Chains of Lust

This is a request featuring Maiev from WoW with an orc. Contains scent and impreg kinks.

It was dark in Ashenvale, with the light of the moon casting a swath of pale light upon the damp forest floor, moving and changing like the clear reflection of water as the leaves above were teased to and fro by the wind. Apart from the occasional call of an animal, rustling of a breeze, or trickling of a nearby brook, the ancient forest was silent in its tranquility.

Maiev's race was attuned to the night just as any other race was attuned to the day--more so, even--and the dull chill that it brought, the solitary feeling rewarded by the subversion of the sun in favor of the moon, was nothing less than natural to her. Her bright eyes, glowing like subtle lanterns, bore through the darkness and saw all, keen as an owl with the temperament of a panther. As a Warden, she stalked and prowled, patrolling her territory for those unwelcome: those with green skin, or bullish snouts, or in general those savage races wielding tusks between their lips. Murderers and thieves, pillagers and defilers.

Her rounds for the night were coming to an end, and had begotten nothing in the way of discovering Horde invaders or other more mundane criminal activities by fellow members of the Alliance. It was during this time that, upon making her return back to the little military encampment she was currently in charge of, that she passed by a solitary moonwell, nestled snugly with a solitary glade, largely unvisited and slightly upraised upon a hill. By a whim she decided to check upon it and, to a degree of anger that made her long ears twitch, she discovered therein exactly the type that she had been on the lookout for: a green skinned, tusked invader. He wore nothing but a loincloth and was bathing--if it could really be called that--within the moonwell, clothes discarded upon the grass, with a serrated axe leaning against a tree nearby.

Maiev's anger, ever quick to boil, rose to dangerous levels. She glided towards the orc, silent even within the stillness of the glade, and her presence was only let known to him by the deliberate wielding of her glaives, sharp steel on sharp steel startling him to attention.

"Be still, or I will sever your head from your shoulders, orc," she hissed.

The orc glanced at his weapon, and then, apparently deeming it too far to reach in time, complied with obvious reluctance that no doubt went against the mindless savagery of his race.

"Out of the moonwell," she hissed, and when he complied with this as well, she gave him further instructions: "Turn around, and do not make any sudden movements."

This, too, he obeyed, facing away from her and no doubt already thinking of an escape plan. She restrained his hands behind his back with bonds of magic that glowed like green crystal against his already green skin, and then bound him further with shackles of iron. "Come, wretch. I will decide your fate back at camp after a period of deliberation."

The orc grumbled something about his clothes but she ignored him and shoved him forward, guiding him with a grip as hard and firm as the iron around his wrists. He was compliant to a surprising degree, but she nevertheless kept her awareness raised, ready at any moment to shackle his feet if he decided to run or to cut him down with her glaives if he decided to try and test his luck against her. He did none of these things, and part of her wondered if he was trying to get on her good side with the hope that she would later let him free.

As they walked, she eyed him through the thin slits of her helmet. He was fairly tall for an orc, and quite a bit taller than her despite her own impressive height. His face was square, his hair short, and his jaw darkened by stubble. Muscles and wide shoulders gave him the appearance of someone broad and sturdily built, like he lifted boulders for a living. The possibility of this being exactly the case was not lost on her, however for prudence's sake she operated under the assumption that he was a soldier capable of the kind of martial prowess typical of other orcs she had fought. For whether or not he was a soldier or trained for combat, he was certainly strong enough to cause harm; his muscles, shining under the light of the moon and with the moonwell's waters, were evidence enough of that.

The chiseled lines of his muscles caught her eye longer than intended for a simple cursory inspection, and she tore her gaze away with a shake of the head and a yank of his arm. Her camp was nearby, and after only a few more minutes of walking they arrived. It was simple and small, a temporary bivouac meant only to be used for a week or two. There were a scattering of tents nestled between long-abandoned homes made of stone, one of which had been transformed into a makeshift jail. It was small in size, barely large enough to fit an elf much less an orc, but the man's comfort was not of concern to her. After unbinding him, she forced him into the cell, gave it a good once over to ensure that he could not possibly escape, and then left without a word, circling the camp and sending forth a number of owl sentinels to take watch. It was unlikely that they had been followed, or that a Horde recovery party would find them here, but there was no need to be lax. Especially when the small outfit of soldiers she was in charge of were off on an exercise of their own.

Once confident in the secureness of her encampment, she made her way to the jailhouse, half-annoyed over the orc giving her more work to do and cutting into her leisure time, but also half-excited over said work. She liked what she did, and though a bath certainly would be nice, grilling the orc would likely come with its own pleasantries.

When she arrived he was lying upon the bed and quickly bolted upright. The room was dimly lit, but she could still see the annoyed look on his face and the bulging muscles that dominated his figure. They were oddly distracting, and she wondered if perhaps she should have allowed him to put his clothes back on before leading him back here.

"How long are you going to keep me in this cell?" he asked, a barely contained edge accenting his speech.

Clearing her throat, Maiev removed her helmet and placed it upon a nearby table, freeing her long, arctic-white ponytail. There was a single wooden chair in the room and she took it, bringing it closer to the orc and then sitting upon it, her hard gaze turned towards him. "Until justice has been done," she said.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that you will leave once I deem you either a threat, or not a threat. If you are a threat you will be executed." She let her words hang in the air for a moment, studying him before continuing. "If you are not a threat, you will be released."

He stood up with a shifting of muscles and ruffling of loincloth. Briefly, instinctively, her eyes darted to the fabric and the noticeably large appendage it contained before she caught herself and looked away, pretending to correct an imagined crease in her cloak.

"I'm not a threat," he said simply and so matter-of-factly that she was almost inclined to believe him.

Maiev cleared her throat and looked up at the orc standing above her, separated only by bars of hard steel. Seated as she was, his clothed member was eye level with her, and for some infuriating reason it was a struggle not to constantly sneak glances at it.

"What is your name?" she asked, taking up quill and parchment.

"Durnok."

She quickly sketched it onto the parchment.

"Age?"

"Thirty-five."

"Profession?"

"Merchant. Primarily leather goods."

"Reason for venturing into the area where I found you and then defiling a moonwell with your filth?"

"I... was exploring, and when I found the well I figured I could use a bath anyway, so why not?"

Durnok adjusted his posture, and once again her gaze found itself drawn to his hidden package. Her nose twitched, and without thinking she sniffed. Despite his dip in the moonwell, his scent was strong. Earthy and masculine in an almost intoxicating sort of way.

Intoxicating?

Maiev blinked, trying to hide her burgeoning curiosity behind a scowl. "You certainly smell. Perhaps I shouldn't blame you for seeking a bath."

"Does that mean you forgive me?" he asked.

"No," she replied, and then continued, "Why were you exploring out so far, away from your own Horde encampments?"

"You won't like the answer to that," he grunted.

"Try me. And do not lie."

"Well... having sold the majority of my wares, and having plenty of free time, I departed Splintertree Post a day or so ago with the hopes of sighting an elf," he explained, speaking fast so as to ward off interruption. "You see, I've never seen a night elf woman before, and from the tales I've heard they are extremely beautiful. Perhaps this is a foolish reason, but it is what it is, and I am a simple man."

Maiev's eyes narrowed.

"So you were seeking to assault some poor girl then slink back to your village of sticks and spikes?"

"A look is all I was seeking. No more than that."

She snorted. "And now that you've gotten it, was it worth the jail cell?"

"Yes."

Admittedly, this was not the answer she had expected, though the tingling sensation between her thighs seemed to appreciate it.

"You think I'm beautiful then?" she laughed, though there was more than just humor in her voice.

"Very."

The scent of him seemed stronger now, or perhaps she was just more attuned to it, but either way it tickled at her nose and made her salivate.

"I suppose for an orc you are..." She hesitated for a moment, searching for the right word and making sure not to leer at his body. "Acceptable."

This could have been construed as both the wrong thing to say and the right thing to say, for the orc brightened considerably upon hearing this.

"Acceptable, eh? Does that mean you'd like to mate with me?" he asked.

Maiev's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. Did he say mate? With him? With an orc? The idea was insane, but she had to admit, there was an attraction there. Honestly, he was more than just acceptable; the greenskinned brute was handsome, and his scent was somehow maddening. But still, she couldn't, or at least, she shouldn't.

"Keep your crude thoughts to yourself or they will be the last thoughts you ever have," she managed to say, pushing down the tiny forbidden part of her that desired to drop to her knees and service the man with her mouth.

Durnok shrugged and did as he was told, content that a seed had been planted within the Warden's mind.

The next day, Maiev returned to his cell after making her rounds and inspecting the perimeter of the camp. There'd been no signs of Horde marauders, and no signs of her Sentinels either. She wasn't expecting them. Placing her helmet upon the table, she sat down and looked at the orc.

Somehow his muscles seemed even more pronounced than they had the day prior, more carved, more appealing, and he gazed back at her with calculating eyes that she didn't quite like. "Morning, Warden," he said. "Or is it still morning? It's hard to tell in here."

Maiev had no intention of engaging in idle chatter with the orc. "How did you come to find the moonwell?" she asked, resuming her interrogation.

"On accident."

"Why the axe?"

"Better to be safe than sorry."

"Was anyone with you?"

"No."

Maiev rattled off a number of mundane questions, gauging his reaction before finally asking, "Who sent you?"

"Nobody," Durnok said, and then laughed. "I'm just a merchant. No one sent me and no one is coming for me."

He sounded believable enough, but it was too early to stop fishing. If he was a spy, or a scout, he'd have been trained to deal with a simple interrogation like this. "I don't believe you."

"Fine, keep me here as long as you like. You'll see."

"I will keep you here as long as I like. A day, a week, a month, until I'm good and ready to release you."

"I'm sure you will."

Her eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I see the way you ogle me." Durnok shifted upon the bed, spreading his legs wider. She had a hard time keeping her eyes on his.

"That's ridiculous," Maiev scoffed. "You're ridiculous."

He shrugged. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. Especially when you're out here all alone. No company, nothing to do..."

"You're full of yourself. Honestly I think you might be too stupid to be lying."

Maiev stood up and retrieved her helmet, cradling it under her arm. Her nose twitched. The air in the jailhouse seemed muskier than it had been when she first stepped inside.

"You're very beautiful you know. Do you have a man?"

"What did you say?" Maiev reddened, from anger or embarrassment was anyone's guess. She put her helmet on, obscuring her face.

"I said, 'Do you have a man?' "

She opened her mouth to speak but quickly closed it. There was no point engaging in his ribaldry, and besides, she was supposed to be asking the questions, not him. Balling her fists and turning to leave, she returned to her own quarters angry and frustrated. To her further aggravation, the heat in her face had migrated lower, down between her legs and making her pussy throb. She contemplated pleasuring herself but ultimately decided against it; the orc was still on her mind, and that was not something she wanted when she was rubbing at her clit and fingering her cunt.

Instead, she bathed in a nearby well. The water was warm, relaxing, and tinged with a rejuvenating current of mana. When she was thoroughly soaked, she stood up and toweled herself off. Her skin was a smooth purple, lush and damp, with droplets of water clinging to her breasts and abs. Elves were naturally beautiful, but she was unique, more fierce, an untamed beauty with both scars and curves.

She stepped out of the moonwell and reached for her clothes. Her ass, large and round, jiggled from the impact of her foot against the earth. It was still midday and she had little to do, so, donning her armor, she made her way back towards the jailhouse. She was calmer now. No ache between her legs or flutter within her belly. She could deal with him without issue.

When she stepped into the tiny prison it was even steamier than it had been before. It smelled like the orc: spicy, intoxicating, not at all unpleasant. She wet her lips and inhaled, taking a deep breath before moving towards Durnok's cell. The heat from before was returning, but she ignored it, or at least attempted to.

She found him in bed, and the thick iron bars did nothing to hide the sight before her. He was lying down, naked, his loincloth discarded upon the stone floor like an old rag. One of his hands was pumping at his erect tool, fast, all the way up, all the way down. It was fat, tall and vividly green, shining with a healthy layer of pre-cum. Maiev stared, mouth ajar, thighs squeezed together, and when Durnok noticed her he stopped for but a moment before resuming again. He said nothing, but he was more theatrical about his performance now, clearly showing off for her and giving her a good look at his package.

She should have said something. Reprimanded him, left, done anything but stare. But she liked what she saw and only caught herself after a good handful of seconds had passed. Flustered, she whipped her cloak around and hurried from the jailhouse without exchanging a single word, returning to her own quarters and shucking off her clothes. The ache would no longer be denied. She collapsed onto the bed, a hand between her legs and a moan on her lips. When night came she brought herself to climax a second time, the image of the orc's manhood dominating her thoughts.

The following day when she woke up she felt much better, loose and less stressed. During her rounds about camp, her thoughts began to wander to the orc and whether or not she should release him. She'd checked his clothes and found nothing indicating that he was a soldier, nor did he seem violent. There was also no sign of a rescue party for him, or even a search party for that matter. Greenskin or not, there was little reason to doubt him. His word seemed true.

She decided that after one last line of questioning she would release him to go about his business. She was growing tired of feeding and looking after him. So, filling out her log with a report of the day's activities, she tucked her chair in and left her quarters, stomping across the grassy encampment and entering the jail house. The thought of discovering him in the same act as he'd been engaged in yesterday suddenly flashed through her mind, and so she deliberately made a terrible clattering of noise as she made her way towards his cell. She would not surprise him in the act this time, though knowing him and the savagery of his race she didn't put it past him to continue regardless.

Maiev instead found him sitting up and waiting for her, an expectant look on his face. "Come to release me?" he asked.

She set her helmet atop the table, sat down and gave him an exhausted look, "We'll see."

"You've asked me just about every question under the sun already," he complained.

"And I'll keep asking until I've sufficiently concluded whether or not you're a threat."

"All right, fine. Make sure to keep your eyes up here though."

Maiev crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "If you're trying to annoy me until I give in and release you it's not going to work."

He laughed at this. "I'm trying to fuck you, not annoy you."

"You're an animal."

"Maybe. I'd certainly fuck you like one."

She cleared her throat and ignored him. "How long ago did you leave Splintertree Post?"

Durnok stood up and moved towards the bars. "You've asked me that before."

He was tall, with wide shoulders and hair that led down to his barely covered groin. She eyed him without thinking. "Answer the question."

Though they were separated by bars, they were only a little more than a cubit apart. "Four or five days ago now, I guess," he said, looking down at her and through her armor as if she was naked. She could smell him more clearly now, and his scent made her clit throb.

"Tell me again why you brought your cock--" Slowly, Maiev closed her mouth, cleared her throat. "Your axe. Why did you bring a battle axe instead of... instead of something smaller, like a knife." Cock? How could she have let that slip? Then again, how couldn't she? She could see the bulging outline of it against his loincloth right in front of her. Hell, she could smell it. Perhaps she should leave before things got out of hand...

As if reading her thoughts, Durnok hooked his fingers around his flimsy loincloth and pulled it to the floor, revealing the overwhelming presence of his tool, fat, curved, robust and looking like the perfect specimen for pounding her pussy into a soaking mess. Without thinking or even knowing what she was doing, she leaned in, her face only a scant few inches from his bulging tip, and then licked her lips. Thoughts of leaving eluded her now.

"This is... disgusting," she lied. "Put it away or I will..."

With his hand as a guide, he pushed the head of his cock against the fullness of her lips, lifting the upper lip and briefly exposing her teeth before rubbing it side to side against her, left and right, teasing her with a dollop of pre-cum that smeared along his path.

"I can show you that I'm not a threat," he said.

"How?" she asked from around his bulbous tip, barely taking her eyes away from his cock to glance up at him.

"By giving you the best fuck of your life. And before you say no, have a little taste."

She swallowed, contemplating her next decision for a moment, then nodded and leaned further forward, hesitancy in her movement but not holding back as she took him into her mouth, her lips wrapping around the engorged crest of his cock. She sucked it, briefly, but then he pulled away after giving her a taste.