Gwennalyn's Sexual Awakening Ch. 07

The princess quickly lost track of time. Time had in fact lost its meaning, measured now not in seconds or minutes or hours but by the amount of cocks she took and the amount of spunk that was given to her.

She also lost track of the count of how many orcs were involved. More joined as the night went on, either replacing orcs who had gone off to guard duty or simply swelling the ranks of those eager to debase her.

Fortunately for those newcomers, they could take the princess alone, not having to share her, except with those who would crowd around her face and mouth, shoving their fat balls between her lips or slapping their shafts against her cheek or simply aiming streams of hot semen at her. One newcomer was able to rail her ass, pounding into it with his foot thrown over onto her head, further debasing her while his fellow orcs rained down cum onto the part of her face that was exposed. Another newcomer made her stand, her legs trembling as he took her from behind, pulling her arms back to leave her defenseless as he rutted her sex, while the other orcs lined up to finish on her face or in her already-matted hair or on her breasts.

The only time they left her completely to the devices of one single participant was when a grizzled old orc showed up, striding into the room, ready to go.

"We hoped you would show up," one of the others told him as he stripped, the princess being viciously spit-roasted by two orcs at the moment.

By the time they had added their deposits to her insides, the old orc was ready to go.

She got a long look at him as he approached, his lean body rippling with muscles and pocked with various scars. Even at his older age, he had an air of unquestioned dominance and confidence. And his cock was just as fat and long as many of the others, the bulbous head sporting a stream of pre-cum.

"I heard there was an eager whore ready to be ruined," he growled, shoving her onto her back, pressing her legs against her chest, his prick lining up to her pussy.

With one harsh shove, he hilted, streams of semen burbling forth, the sticky froth forced out by his insistence.

She purred happily as he fucked her, driving hard into her already seeded cunt, the copious evidence of that insemination streaming forth even without the impacts of his fierce thrusts. Her hands, now left alone for the first time in a while, began to run along her body, rubbing at the smears of cum all over her, not even bringing them to her lips, just luxuriating in the way all that seed felt cooling on her skin.

The orc snarled down at her, her only response a delirious giggle, the sight of an aroused orc only inducing lust in herself now. His hand slid up to close around her throat, squeezing roughly, such a maneuver popular among the orcs that had gathered around her. The swirling pleasure burned hotter as the air was once again cut off from her lungs, leaving her gasping and wheezing, her vision starting to dim slightly even as her cunt gushed whorishly onto the straining shaft.

"I've fucked plenty of humans in my time," he growled down to her, letting up at her throat just enough to allow her to suck down a laborious breath.

His other hand reached down to maul at her tender breasts, squeezing and crushing the soft flesh in his rough palm, the princess purring at the sensation.

"You're all the same," he grunted, "you call us simple, stupid, plain, base, but when we show off our cocks, you beg us to fuck you."

Again he squeezed at her throat, the princess quivering from the treatment, mewling pitifully, the stream of nectar from her quim now constant, flowing forth like a sluggish river.

"You may be a princess," he snarled, "but you spread your legs for us same as any human."

She was choking, his strong hand squeezing the life from her, the orgasms spiking higher, leaving her dazed and addled, her tongue lolling from her mouth as he pounded down into her soaked sex. Bleating grunts spilled from her with each impact of his flesh on hers.

Again he let up on her throat, her gasps quick and frantic, gulping down lungfuls of air. As soon as she could speak, she began to urge him on, begging for more brutality, for him to ruin her as he had said she wanted. It mattered little to her whether or not that desire had sprung originally from her, because he wanted it and would carry on with it with no thought of her.

The other orcs steered clear, letting the old orc have his way with her. Although she missed the way they would crowd around her, how they would rub their cocks all over her as if to eternally imprint their scents on her, it was pleasant to be able to focus on one orc, on one set of sensations, on one direction from which the pleasure came.

"Fuck me harder," she whined, drawing laughs from the other orcs and a growl from the old orc.

He pushed on her hips, forcing her into an awkward position, with her back bent in half, and him directly above her. With a snarl, he sped up, now driving straight down into her sopping cunt, sending little sprays of her cream all over with each thrust.

"How do you like that, whore?" he asked gruffly.

The increased force made it hard for her to speak, but she soldiered on in her response, wanting him to know how good it felt.

"So fucking good," she mewled, "don't stop."

He laughed cruelly, reaching down once again to squeeze at her throat, enjoying how she bucked and gurgled as he throttled her. The experience of being deprived of air while being fucked viciously was as much ecstasy as it was agony, dying slowly while living life in the most carnal way possible. Whenever her vision would dim, he would let up, allowing her to breathe again, before starting up again, the back and forth making her cum all the harder, contrasting pain and pleasure, dark and bright, cruelty and mercy. Of course, not choking her out was the least bit of mercy he could offer, as everything else was savage and strong, from how his shaft stretched her channel to how his other hand squeezed at her breasts and tweaked at her nipples.

"How many times have you been bred tonight?" he asked her, her cunt still leaking streams of cum from the countless loads let loose inside it.

"So many times," she whined, "but it's not enough."

He laughed, along with many of the other orcs, almost of all whom had actually already bred her.

"You won't be satisfied until you're heavy with a half-breed," he told her.

She squirmed and whimpered, her submissiveness dialed up to where she would donate her body to their biological cause, even as she knew that with her daily dosage of white blossom tea, her womb would not quicken for them.

"Don't worry," he growled, "I'll give you what you want."

"Please," she managed to croak, "breed me."

The old orc snarled, his hands wrapping now around her waist, hoisting her into the air, her whorish instinct leading her to wrap her legs around him, safely impaled on his massive prick.

As his hips still pounded against her, he began to pull her roughly towards him, matching one motion to the other to ensure that she was fully skewered, feeling as if his cock might rend through her insides, sentencing her to a depraved, cum-soaked end. Death did not seem so bad if this was the road that led to it.

She hung from his cock, her upper half swaying back, her cum-matted hair reaching down to the bed, more semen dripping off her with regularity, most of it dried and stuck to her skin. The orc fully controlled the pace, leaving her wallowing in her utter helplessness, in how he used her cunt as if she was nothing but that, a walking, talking quim, meant to be fucked and filled. His brutality thrilled her, the way he hammered into her young body, how he cared little of the agonized screams that ripped from her throat despite having caused them. Her cunt wept, gushed, bathed his cock in its ambrosia, begging to be bred, needing that gift and prize.

"Here it comes, whore," he growled at her, his muscles straining as he treated her like a toy.

Her pathetic whimper was overshadowed by his triumphant roar, a primal sound showing how he had laid claim to her in a bestial and natural way, a strong, virile creature conquering a submissive bitch.

The telltale throbbing shot up his shaft. Just before he came, he drove her down onto him, shoving forward to make sure every inch was sheathed in her welcoming heat. She moaned, safely and yet precariously balanced on his prick.

Gwennalyn had been already bred many times that night, but she enjoyed this one no less, not bored or tired of the scandalous act. The spurts blasted out fiercely, drowning her womb in his molten essence, her scream mingling with his roar. Her cunt was already heavily awash in orc semen, and so it began to drip that wasted seed, the trickles escaping quicker with every arc he unleashed inside her. There was already so much inside her, and with his load filling her as well, it was a heady feeling, all that spunk sloshing inside her, enough to impregnate her dozens of times over.

The old orc wasted no time once his last spurt found her cunt, yanking her off him, little streams of more cum following his departing cock, dripping messily onto the bed. She was given no time to adjust, dropped onto the bed roughly, his cock suddenly in her face. There was no need for a command, just his hand twining into her hair to guide her, her own need for cock already controlling her instincts, her tongue running along the length, the princess purring happily as she gathered her own flavor, mixed with the globs of cum caking the dark green flesh.

But the old orc was as impatient as he was rough, and as he had choked her with his hand, he now did so with his cock, shoving it down her throat, falling into a vicious rhythm, skull-fucking her with no hesitation. The hapless princess slobbered nastily onto the thrusts, gagging wetly, her drool quickly gathering, dripping off her chin in slimy lines. The chain of orgasms continued unbroken, helped along by her hands moving to her nethers, one pushing fingers into her stretched sex, the other teasing at her gaping ass, both holes leaking rivers of seed.

During his usage of her, the other orcs had stayed back.

But now, they pounced upon her again, one orc grabbing her hips, shoving his cock through her ruined anus, others crowding around her, slapping their shafts against her pale flesh, loosing loads all over her, crowing at their luck to find such an eager whore.

Thus the debauchery continued.

As the night dragged on, more orcs began to depart, usually dropping one more load onto her face or breasts or stomach. The ones who stayed did not scale back, still treating her with the same violent attention as before, grabbing and pounding and squeezing and ravaging.

The princess was treated to cock after cock, taking more and more cum, her body covered in the sticky seed, her holes squirting out previous loads at every thrust they took, the runoff of fluids reeking of sex.

By the end, there were only a handful of orcs remaining.

She was on the bed, lying on her back, her lower half hanging over the edge while one orc rutted into her white-washed pussy, another orc driving his prick into her throat. The amount of cum deposited into her from both ends had swollen her belly, the flat plane now curving noticeably. It was as if she had eaten a full meal's worth of the thick semen, its warmth and presence soothing, settled in her belly, sloshing gently.

The orc in her cunt finished, pulling out unceremoniously, a nastily wet sound following him, his own load quickly flowing back out, along with all the other loads.

"Fuck," he growled, "we ruined her cunt. She's stuffed with seed."

The orc pounding at her throat chuckled.

"Hand me that," the first orc said to another, Gwennalyn unable to see what was changing hands, wondering if it was something that would add to her debasement.

"Look at this fucking sloppy mess," he grunted.

The orc down her throat pulled out, placing his fat balls in her gasping mouth, the princess sucking happily.

A hand settled on her stomach, and pressed down hard.

She screamed, squirming helplessly, the pressure too much to take, heavy spurts of cum gushing from her cunt and ass.

The hand let up, and the bed shifted.

"Let her up," one orc told the one whose balls she was slobbering all over.

He moved off her, and pushed her into a sitting position.

Several orcs gathered around her, one holding a heavy silver goblet.

"Want it?" he asked her, tilting it to show off the contents.

Her eyes widened.

It was brimming with seed, the runoff that had been pushed out of her quim and ass, slimy and sticky, hot and thick.

She took the goblet, and with their eyes on her, threw it back.

In her fuck-addled state, it was sweeter than any wine, heartier than any ale, its texture rich and its flavor strong. She rolled the cum around in her mouth, appreciating how it dominated her taste buds, how it practically sizzled on her tongue.

A loud gulp made the orcs laugh, and she drained down several more.

"Wait," the orc who had been fucking her mouth said, "let me top it off."

She watched as he aimed his straining prick into the goblet, seconds later spurts erupting from the head to splatter into the goblet, a fresh layer of semen adding to the older spend.

The new helping quickly fell prey to her desire; she finished the depraved snack, swallowing down the semen with glee, running her tongue along the goblet's edges once it was empty, giggling as the orcs watched her closely.

"Tastes so good," she slurred, handing the goblet back.

They each fucked her again once more, the last one throwing her to the floor and mounting her savagely. Once he had spent himself in her cunt, he moved off her, leaving her lying there, tired and sore yet elated at the sexual high.

The remaining orcs filed out, and she laid there, comfortable on a soft rug.

"How do you feel, whore?" came Brand's voice from beside the bed.

"So good," she murmured, her eyes closing, her body winding down after so much pleasure.

"Come here," Brash ordered.

She tried to stand, but could not get far, stumbling back down.

"No," Brand growled as they watched her try to stand, "crawl to your new masters."

Earlier in the night, before the storm of carnality that had ruined her mind as it had her body, she would have resisted, would have spat that she had no masters.

But now, after her mind was reduced to dust, after her womb had been assailed with seed, after her insides had been made a receptacle for semen, after her body had been marked again and again and again, there was no thought of defiance.

She crawled, cum dripping off her as she went, moving from the rug to the stone floor, headed towards the source of the arrogant laughter.

When she collided with the solid bulk of one of the brothers, she stopped, wrapping herself around one of their legs to stay upright.

"You were a good whore for the guards," Brash commented casually.

She nodded, giggling deliriously.

"Take this," he said, pushing a small sack into her hands.

"What is it?" she murmured.

"Each guard who fucked you paid a copper to do so."

"It's your payment," Brand added.

She giggled, letting the sack drop to the floor, already slumping down herself.

"So I really am your whore now," she slurred, the fit of delirious giggles continuing for a few more seconds.

"You can stay here," Brand told her, "and then you'll clean up in the morning."

"Mmm-hmm," she murmured, letting go of his leg, letting herself slide down to the floor.

The stone was hard and cold, but she was exhausted, her body pushed to its limit by multiple lustful orcs.

Sleep claimed her quickly.

Mmmm, what a night...

Deiara slumped further under the soapy water, rubbing her hands all over herself, flashing back to the night before, vivid memories of two desirous orcs taking her together making her body heat up. Even after indulging last night before bed in snacking on the streams of cum trickling from her nethers, there was still plenty left to clean up. They had spent multiple loads on and inside her, and since her princess had never shown up, most of it had stayed on her body, cooling and drying, leaving a sticky coating on her flesh.

Over the past week, it had become a routine for the handmaiden and her princess. Gwennalyn would watch as an orc dropped by Deiara's quarters, starting up an evening of unabashed carnality. Partway through, she would go off to be used and abused by Brash and Brand, the cruel orcish brothers, and would come back to witness the end of the night for the handmaiden, cleaning her after the orc left while Deiara returned the favor.

But her princess had not returned from visiting the brothers. Deiara imagined she had been fucked to within an inch of her life, and had simply stumbled back to her quarters, dropping onto the bed and passing out for the night. Likely, when Deiara would slip upstairs to wake her, she would find the young woman in a state of undress, cum leaking from every hole and sticking to her body.

As much as that thought aroused her, as much as she wanted to indulge, Deiara had to clean herself and get dressed, so that she could get her princess ready for the farewell feast.

So her hand avoided dallying at her cunt, instead washing up quickly.

It took her a few more minutes to get dressed; thankfully, her outfits were always simple, since she did not need to wear as much or dress as fancily as the nobility.

Once dressed, she headed up the small staircase that led to her princess' chambers.

"Wakey, wakey," she called as she padded into the bedroom, expecting to see her princess passed out in a very unladylike way.

But the bed was empty.

Hmmm.

Deiara went into the sitting room, to check if Gwennalyn had simply passed out on the small couch there.

But the couch was empty too.

Son of a bitch. Where is she?

Deiara headed back downstairs, trying to think of where her princess might be.

She wouldn't be dumb enough to sleep over with the orcs. Would she?

Just as she found her slippers and slid her feet in, a heavy knock came at her door.

Standing outside of her room was a tall, burly orc, with a bored look on his face.

"The princess needs you," he said, turning to leave without checking if she would follow.

"What?" she asked, hurrying after him.

He did not answer, so she followed him through the castle, down to the wing where the orcs were staying.

There were several orcs bustling about in the wing, packing and cleaning, but even as they headed through the brothers' chambers, Deiara did not see either Brand or Brash.

"She's in here," the orc grumbled, leading her into one of the bedrooms.

"Holy fucking hell!" Deiara exclaimed when she saw her princess.

"Yeah, they gave it to her good last night," the orc chuckled.

"That's putting it lightly," she muttered, crouching down to examine the unconscious woman.

Having shared a bed with Gwennalyn many times, and having whored with her at the Pink Petal, Deiara had seen her in a much more salacious way than the public ever would. She had intimate knowledge of how lustful her princess could be.

But the creature curled in a ball on the cold stone floor surprised even her.

The smell had assaulted her nose even before she had gotten a good look. A small pool of cooled semen surrounded her princess' lower half, leaking from her nethers, more cum, a ridiculous amount of it, sticking to her body, clumping to her pale skin, coating her hair until it dulled the shine of her lustrous blonde locks. In many places, the semen simply covered her body, her breasts, stomach, ass, hands, and forearms obviously having received a lot of attention, the flesh obscured by the slick seed. Strangely, the only article of clothing she wore was a pair of boots, also sporting quite a lot of semen stains.