F5: Invasion of the Orcs

She paused to look at her reflection in her dresser mirror. Her figure was lithe, body taut and toned, her chest topped with a small set of breasts that had failed to ignite much attention from the men her age. For as much as she'd heard of guys liking fit women, it didn't seem to work in her favor. Laura's only real sexual interaction had been during a drunken 7 Minutes of Heaven game during a summer party before college started.

Being eighteen and highly curious of the opposite sex, she'd readily agreed to the game and soon found herself in a darkened closet with a slightly chubby young man. Taking full advantage of the time, she'd skipped with the kissing and went straight to unzipping his khakis, greedily taking his cock in her mouth. He hadn't lasted very long, nor gave her much in the way of warning before flooding her mouth with his load. Unfortunately he still remained the only cock she'd gotten to play with so far.

Having remembered that night riled her hormones, not that it took much, her hand slipping into a drawer. Into the back of the drawer she went till her fingers wrapped around the latex shaft. The toy was her only one, bought as a gag gift by a girlfriend when she was nineteen. The area that Laura lived in was fairly religious and kept out those who were interested in opening an adult shop. She'd entertained the thought of buying one online that was a little more suitable in size, but if her father had found the package she would have been mortified. And so she was left with the dildo she had in hand, a replica of some pornstar she'd never heard of, a Mr. James Deen who seemed to be rather thickly endowed.

Taking the dildo with her, she got into the shower and while the water warmed she affixed the suction cup against the back wall. The tip of her finger flung the end, her eyes watching as the toy bounced and wondered if a real cock did the same.

Laura soaped up her washrag and slowly scrubbed herself down, in the back of her head remembering that each shower could be the last time she got to have one. After thoroughly scrubbing her skin, she pulled out her razor and touched up her bald pussy. Porn had given her the idea that men found that attractive and after a couple of times of doing it, she'd found that she enjoyed the feeling of water running down the smooth skin.

With the razor away, she turned her attention back to the dildo, kneeling before it. Her eyes closed, imaging it to be the real thing as her lips pressed up against the head, then parted to let the toy slip into her mouth. Every few days she like to take the time, when she knew she wouldn't be discovered, to try and practice what she'd seen in porn videos. Deepthroating had turned out to be much harder than it appeared and so that was the main focus of her training, working on trying to get more to fit down into her throat.

Releasing the toy from her mouth and watching a bit of the spit fall down as a string from her lips, Laura turned around and leaned back, guiding the toy into her soaked hole. A long sigh slipped from her lips as she took the toy into her, feeling the latex stretch her out. It had taken a couple of months before she'd been able to take the girth of the toy, but now she savored the sweet feeling of being full. Laura took it slow at first, waiting till she felt comfortable, and then quickly rode the toy to orgasm. Reluctantly she slid off of it, her body craving more but her mind was slowly drifting back to reality.

She washed her hair out, twice, and conditioned it while savoring the fact that she still could enjoy such luxuries. Stepping out of the shower, she sighed to herself, hoping that she wouldn't die a virgin or at least got to lose it of her own will.

Stepping out of the bathroom with a towel around her midsection, she could heard the television droning on with news of the invasions. Slowly she towel dried her chin length brunette hair while watching the latest reports. Astronomers, secure away in their remote viewing locations had fixed in on the Swift-Tuttle comet and were reporting constant streams of spheres headed towards Earth. Some seemed to come from the comet, others from nearby, leading to the theory that the comet was merely a shield. Not that it mattered so much since Earth had no means of retaliation.

The spheres were beginning to spread out from the cities, working their way into the suburbs. They were targeting the centers of local commerce, the Wal-Marts and Targets of the towns. A slight smirk crossed her face as she noted the choice of stores, well that one had certainly made itself attractive to them hadn't it?

The coffee maker was started as she went into the bedroom to get dressed, putting on some of her hiking clothes. All things considered it was better to be ready for a trip into the woods. Part of her wanted to leave right then and there, just get it over with and be on her way, but her father still working anchored her to the town. Laura didn't want to leave without him and she knew that he wouldn't leave until he was forced to.

While sipping her coffee she busied herself with unpacking the bags and getting set to repack them. At the minimum she wanted to replace the water, stale water tended to be unpleasant, and more importantly it gave her something to do.

She finished with her father's pack first, tugging the straps down tight so that the load would stay as still and centered as possible. A short break was taken so that she could refill her coffee mug and grab couple of hard boiled eggs to snack on.

When she finished refilling the water bladder and several bottles, Laura turned her attentions to the .40. She removed the magazine and racked the slide back to remove the round in the chamber. Once unloaded, she removed the slide completely and began to coat over the barrel and interior of the slide with a light layer of Break-Free.

Reassembling the pistol, she loaded the magazine and racked a round into the chamber. She tucked the pistol in her belt at the small of her back, smirking a bit as she knew it irked her dad when she did that. At the moment though, the weight of the pistol was a security blanket to her.

Grinning to herself for a couple of seconds, she trotted over to her father's liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Stoli vodka and his flask. She took a swig for herself, grimacing a little at the burn of warm vodka, and proceeded to fill the flask. That vodka could be used as an antiseptic was her excuse, though she hoped that it wouldn't come to that. The flask she tucked securely away in one of the pockets of her pack.

Out to the porch she went, weary of the constant and depressing news, to sit upon an Adirondack chair. She watched the clouds moving across the skies, wishing her mind were as calm as the clouds. Instead, her thoughts raced, wondering just how much time she had left in her home. Occasionally she could see the bright flare of another sphere burning through the atmosphere, headed to the next target.

As if to answer her questions, the house and ground shook beneath her, followed shortly after by a wave of hot air and dust flying down the street. Once she was able to get to her feet, Laura jumped first to the railing of the porch, then down to the sidewalk to see what had caused it. Her fears were confirmed as the dust began to settle and the sparkle of metal glinted in the sunlight.

Her heart raced as she ran back inside, almost on autopilot going straight for the table with the bug out bags. Laura finished packing the bag with the items that were on the table and then ran over to grab a couple more boxes of ammo. These she tucked away into the bag before strapping on the thigh holster and strapping the pistol into it.

She left the other bag on the table in hopes that her father would still be alive and knowing he would need it. One last lingering look was paid to her home, knowing it would most likely not look the same by evening. Wiping away a tear, she turned and ran out the backdoor towards the woods.

* * * *

Drying her sore eyes, Laura used the handkerchief to wipe away the salt and finally took a look around her. In the fading evening light she barely recognized the stream, but could see enough to figure out roughly where she was. More importantly she knew that twenty miles down the stream would merge with several others until eventually it ran into a river. There was a watersports rental facility that she and her father had agreed to meet at should they be separated in an emergency.

She rinsed the handkerchief of the salt in the stream, then folded it lengthwise and laid it upon the back of her neck, tying it lightly to the front. Rising up, she shouldered the pack again and began to pick her way down along the stream using the fading sunlight.

The moon was three quarters full, giving her enough light to make her way without having to turn on a flashlight. Slowly she walked through the woods, careful not only for drawing the attention of the orcs but also wary of copperheads that might have curled up for the cool of the night. Gently she'd toe a spot before lowering her heel and working on the next step. It was a slow process but safety overrode the need for speed.

As the night began to wane away, Laura began to pay more attention to her surroundings away from the stream. Her eyes began to search out the occasional pockets of pines that dotted the landscape. An hour from the breaking of dawn she found a suitable thicket.

Within the pines she pulled out the paracord, the book, and a hatchet. Using the book as a reminder to the steps, Laura carefully trimmed limbs and slowly tied them together to create a lean-to shelter just large enough for her to lay out and store her pack.

Once the shelter was done, she crept out to the stream and slipped one tube of the filter into the water. First she filled up the bottles to refill her water bladder and then partially filled a collapsible sink. This she carried gingerly back to her shelter and settled in for the day.

First she setup her little hiking stove, surrounding it with a heat shield and then putting a pot of water on to boil. This she used to make herself a quick meal of Mountain House beef stew, and a few dashes of Tabasco. Hungrily she wolfed down the meal and put another pot of water on the stove, not letting this one get quite to boiling.

The warm water was poured into the collapsible sink and mixed with a few drops of camp soap. Laura first used the soapy water to clean up her couple of dishes and set them aside to dry. She then setup a small sheet under her and stripped off her clothing, putting it up to air and dry out. The handkerchief was then used to slowly give herself a sponge bath.

Sighing at the simple pleasures of the warm water scrubbing away the night's sweat and dirt, she mused at the luxurious shower she'd had just a day before. Once the bath was done, she dried herself off with a camp towel and hooked it up to air dry out. Leaning back on the pack, she pulled out the book and flicked through its well-worn pages. A little smile played on her face as she noted her father's notes, written in margins. It was an old Scout book he'd picked up at the local Goodwill and insisted that she keep it with her whenever she ventured out.

Turning to a page on knife sharpening she pulled her Case knife out of the backpack and opened its three blades to inspect them. Running her thumb along the side of the blade, she tested for nicks and the relative sharpness of the edge. Then, glancing at the book just to verify her memory, she took a fine stone and gently coaxed a sharper edge in two of the three blades. The knife was folded and put into her pants pocket. Wrapping herself up in her sleeping bag, she pulled her pack up to her head to use as a pillow and drifted off into an exhausted slumber.

The sound of rain gently hitting the stream caused her to awake a few hours later. As much as she would have enjoyed rolling over and going back to sleep, Laura knew it would behoove her to take advantage of the dark skies. With a sigh she dressed herself and packed up her belongings, then covered the pack with a rain-proof cover and donned a poncho. Strapping the pack on, she slipped out of the shelter and began to continue her trek down the stream.

The stream's size began to pick up as springs fed into it, then another stream, and another. Taking another sip of water, Laura pushed back the hood of the poncho and looked up at the moon peeking out from the clouds. The wet leaves made for slick travel but the rain had silenced her footfalls. With it gone, she found her mind wandering, wondering if any of her friends had made it out of the town. Purposely she avoided thinking of her father, not wanting to think of what probably had happened. Instead she kept up her pace, determined to make it to the store and hope that she found a familiar face there.

Through the forest she trudged until the roar of the river's rapids caught her ears. With a surge of hope she shrugged her pack up a little further on her shoulders and picked up the pace. Within a few minutes the outline of the building came into view and she had to fight to keep from running towards it. Instead, again, she had to suffer the agony of taking an even slower pace as she looked over the building, trying to determine if she were alone or if it was occupied.

Slowly she circled the building, stopping at the river and coming back, staying within the woods and progressively getting closer with each sweep. When she came to the edge of the forest, Laura drew her pistol and held it tight with both hands on the grip. A surge of adrenaline shot through her body as she broke out from the cover at a trot and made for the racks of kayaks. Noting that she didn't see or hear anyone, she broke from the kayaks to a Rubbermaid shed, dropping down along its side.

Carefully she peeked out from the side of the shed, eyeing the door and then whipping back against the shed as she saw a figure step out from the building. She grit her teeth together as fear overtook her, slowly she moved to peek out from the side of the building. Quickly she noted the handgun the person held, then looked up and recognized first the police uniform shirt, and then the face of her father. "Dad," she screamed as her legs scrambled under her.

The figure turned her way as she bolted out from behind the shed and sprinted across the lawn. He barely had time to recognize the person yelling at him and running across the grass when Laura wrapped him up in her arms. Her face buried itself into his shoulder as she let loose her emotions, bawling her eyes out like a toddler. Gently his arms went around her torso, protectively holding her close to him.

For a couple of minutes they stood while she just let loose with the tears. The tension of the previous days melting away, and while the fear of what would come in the future was there, for now she felt secure. For now the orcs could not touch her and that was all that mattered at that moment.