Gwennalyn's Sexual Awakening Ch. 09

Although it was no thick cock, the four fingers lodged inside her quim was more than enough to drive her to a messy climax. The female orc smirked at her as her peak hit, the princess moaning and wriggling, her channel clenching around the attention. Her juices streamed out onto those fingers, dappling them in cream.

Drawing her fingers from that stretched cunt, Shen kept her eyes on the princess as she slid them down to her distended anus. Those four fingers pushed through, forcing a squeal from Gwennalyn, who was still in the throes of an orgasm, the ecstasy extended as Shen continued the same rhythm in a different hole. The salacious thrills carried on unabated, more semen leaking out due to the energetic motion of those fingers. As the fingers worked harder, Shen's other hand moved down from Gwennalyn's breasts to her unoccupied cunt. The princess watched with bated breath as four fingers from that hand pushed past her slit. A whorish moan spilled from her at the sensation, both holes once again skewered, this time by eight insistent fingers.

"You should stay with us," Shen suggested saucily, "after this, you won't be good for much else."

Gwennalyn groaned, bucking mindlessly, her hair plastered to her forehead and cheeks with sweat and semen.

"Yeah, wouldn't mind having her here all the time," the other orc agreed.

With a little patience, Shen managed to fit both thumbs inside the princess, her choked gasp trailing off into incredulous whimpers. The female orc chuckled, taking in the sight of those stretched holes, how both tried to clutch onto her hands. A smirk crossed her face as she flexed her fingers, widening each hand so that it even further stretched both already well-used holes. The princess squealed, struggling against the blazing pleasure, teeth gnashing, head tossing from side to side. The abuse that Shen inflicted upon her forced the bliss to spike into delightful agony.

Both hands pumped ruthlessly into the princess' ruined holes. Streams of her nectar and thick trickles of wasted seed leaked constantly from her ass and quim, staining the green flesh of Shen's wrists. Breathless and mindless, overcome by the onslaught of sensation, the princess cried out, her throat already hoarse from a combination of the rough thrusting many of the orcs subjected her to, and her own frenzied cries over the previous several hours.

The chain of climaxes was relentless, her cunt and ass forced to stretch again and again as Shen flexed her fingers, gleefully opening her palm, amused by the wild reactions it resulted in, the princess sobbing and thrashing at the harrowing pleasure.

Mercy was slow to show itself, but finally, Shen slid her hands from the princess' nethers. The orc grinned as she watched both holes struggling to close, having been torn open by countless raging cocks and her insistent hands. The princess squirmed on the bed, ragged breaths highlighting how her torment had overwhelmed her, wide eyes gazing up at the female orc.

"Fuck, ruining your holes really got me hot," Shen sighed, moving up now.

Gwennalyn purred, watching the orc straddle her head, bringing her dripping cunt down. The musk blanketed her nose and mouth before the source of it reached her. It was sweet and sour, strong and piercing, the layers of fragrance making her eyes water.

The wet folds of that orcish quim met the princess' mouth. Shen let out a low growl, her hips immediately starting up a slow roll, grinding languidly. Squealing around her treat, Gwennalyn began to work her lips and tongue, kissing and sucking, her hands sliding up, one up to the orc's breasts, the other around to her lush ass.

"Yeah, use that mouth," the orc growled.

The taste seared onto her tongue. It intoxicated her, leading to her enthusiastically slurping at the drenched sex positioned directly onto her mouth, wanting to drink up as much juice as she could. Shen groaned sultrily, swaying atop the trapped princess, her own hands gathering fistfuls of blonde hair beneath her. That leverage was slowly but surely put to use as her hips sped up, until they were aggressively rocking onto the princess' face, the noises she made subsequently muffled.

Gwennalyn had plenty of experience with her current situation. Her handmaiden was a daily paramour, often riding her face gleefully.

So, she lay there, her tongue peeking out of her mouth, letting the lustful orc find her pleasure. The flow of ambrosia was thick and rich, the princess gulping down mouthful after mouthful. Her own cunt was drenched yet again, the wayward dew seeping into the sheets. On the orc's body, her hands were busy, enjoying how those heavy breasts felt between her fingers, the ample flesh spilling out. The sensation only further aroused Shen, who was by now wildly grinding onto her face, her body rippling rhythmically. The increased twitching of her cunt presaged an orgasm.

One climax was not enough for the orc. Instead, she rode Gwennalyn to several climaxes, groaning lewdly as her hips rocked, the pace reducing in speed as the ecstasy tore through her. The flood of juices by now was streaming over the princess' face, forcing her eyes shut, reaching down into her hair, further plastering the tresses down onto her scalp, more streams headed in the opposite direction, staining as far down as the faint slope of her chest.

Finally, Shen stopped altogether, hopping off Gwennalyn with a satisfied sigh.

"She's all yours," she told Groma, who had already stripped at some point.

The princess moaned at her words, spreading her legs, hungry yet again for more abuse.

"Hands and knees," Groma ordered.

Eagerly, she complied, presenting herself to him as quickly as possible.

Aroused as he was watching the prior proceedings, he wasted no time taking her quim, driving deep with zeal. His hands squeezed all over her, at her hips, her ass, her breasts, her shoulders, testing her body as he used it. She squealed happily, pushing back at the thrusts, the wetness at her nethers resulting in loud, slick slaps as their hips collided.

"I know it's a bit selfish, but can I join back in?" Shen asked him, standing next to the bed, still naked.

"Sure, why not?" Groma replied.

The female guard quickly arranged herself on the bed, thick thighs spread to frame her drooling sex.

Gwennalyn needed no encouragement to lean forward. Her tongue peeked out to slather all over the fragrant folds, the orc groaning as she laid back on the bed, letting the princess pleasure her.

"How's her cunt?" she asked her compatriot.

"I thought it'd be looser, what with you straight up fisting her."

"And with all of the orcs that used her before us."

"Yeah, that too."

The thrusts from behind the princess rocked her forward consistently into her treat. She gripped at Shen's thighs, moaning into the channel between them, doing her best to drive the orc to orgasm. The conversation had died down as both of her paramours endeavored to find their pleasure. Groma fucked her harder, pumping into her silken quim with a vengeance, his hands now slapping at her ass, provoking delighted squeals from her each time. Shen began to work her hips against the princess' administrations, that eager tongue wriggling all over her sex, slurping up more juices and driving up her pleasure.

It did not take long for both orcs to finish.

Shen gave Gwennalyn another coating of cream over her face, whereas Groma dumped yet another load into her stuffed womb. Her shameless cries made both of them chuckle.

After letting her clean him off, Groma left, with Shen riding the princess' mouth one more time before following her compatriot. By then, other orcs had arrived, and they took advantage of the opportunity, manhandling her into their preferred position.

The last hour flew by, with the princess trying her best to luxuriate in her whorishness. After this, she would be at the mercy of the brothers. Whereas they enjoyed humiliating and tricking her, the guards had just fucked her, something that she had greatly preferred. It occurred briefly to her, during one orc-less interlude, that she could eliminate the middleman and simply whore for the guards, receiving her desired attention without the psychological chicanery. It also occurred to her, immediately after the first epiphany, that the brothers would likely find some way to stop her, flexing whatever authority they might have over the guards. The dilemma that had presented itself was forgotten when more orcs showed up.

Not long before the end of her term, Wray, Javin, and Akeza returned to keep their earlier promise. They switched places constantly, eager to try out every bit of her.

Once they were done, the last few guards took turns.

After the last guard finished, the princess was left alone, lying on the bed with a soreness cropping up here and there.

"Well, well, well," came a teasing voice from the doorway.

Gwennalyn craned her head, to see her handmaiden standing just beyond the threshold.

"You should have been born a commoner," the older woman remarked, "because you would have made a magnificent whore."

"I know, right?"

The princess rose up onto her knees.

"Are you here to clean me up?"

The handmaiden stayed at the threshold.

"I'm here to take you back to your quarters. Your family dinner with the king is not that long from now."

"Okay. The princes destroyed most of my clothes, though."

Deiara brandished a dress from behind her back.

"I heard."

And then she threw it at the princess, who took the dress full in the face, sputtering as the light fabric then fell into her lap.

"What was that for?" she asked incredulously. "You could have just handed it to me."

Deiara rolled her eyes.

"I know you, princess. You would have tried to pull me down onto the bed to get me to clean you off."

The princess' incredulous veneer quickly cracked into a bleary snicker.

"You know me so well."

"Get dressed," Deiara told her, sighing heavily.

She slipped into the dress, collecting her shoes, stockings, and panties from where they had been left.

A few guards were waiting in the lounge beyond, including Wray, Javin, and Akeza.

"Come back anytime," Wray said, the other two echoing the same sentiment.

At the exit, the attendant who had led her there was waiting with a small sack.

"Your payment," he told her, handing it over.

Gwennalyn took it, catching Deiara's amused expression out of the corner of her eye.

The duo walked back to their quarters, the handmaiden luckily knowing the path. Along the way, they passed a few guards, some of which had been involved in her whoring. Her body began to ache from the abuse, the dress clinging here and there to her from the sticky residue of semen, streams of wasted seed still leaking sluggishly into her panties. Luckily, they managed to avoid running into anyone from her father's retinue.

When they reached their quarters, the handmaiden directed her to take off her clothes as she readied a bath.

"Alright, it's ready," came Deiara's voice after a few minutes.

The princess padded into the adjoining room. A large bathtub awaited her, filled with gently sloshing water, thick steam wafting off the surface.

"Get in," Deiara ordered.

The abuse that the guards had unleashed upon her, while incredibly satisfying, had taken a toll. Bruises marked her all over, making her wince as she stepped into the tub.

Slowly, she lowered herself beneath the water line, the hot water immediately soothing her. The steam blanketed her, the princess sighing as she soaked, closing her eyes.

Footsteps nearby made her open them.

Deiara smiled at her, and whipped her dress off, revealing her voluptuousness.

It was something that the princess saw every day.

And yet it never gets old.

Ever since her own physical development had failed to produce a form as shapely as her handmaiden's, her feelings towards her had been colored by jealousy. But recently, with Deiara as her daily paramour, she had learned to simply appreciate that generous figure.

The handmaiden put on a small show for her, unlacing her corset torturously slowly. It slumped forward, off her chest, as the last laces were undone. Deiara caught it before it fell fully away, smirking mischievously. Grinning back, Gwennalyn lounged lazily in the bathtub, her eyes not leaving the vista for a second. As the handmaiden slid the corset down, those magnificent breasts were slowly revealed. The princess watched intently, feasting first on the soft swell of their heft, tracking the path of the concealing corset, the edge of the areolas now visible, a richer and darker shade of brown, leading to her fat nipples, an even darker and richer brown, the corset falling away now to show off those breasts in their splendor.

Next, Deiara hooked a finger from each hand into her panties, turning away teasingly. Slowly, just like with the corset, she slid them down. Her ass was gradually revealed, the round globes of flesh begging to be worshipped, the puffy lips resting underneath them already wet.

Once the panties were cast aside, she padded forward, and stepped into the bathtub.

Gwennalyn cooed happily, helping her come down into the water, her hands already caressing at the bounty before her.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Deiara murmured.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

An hour or so later, the princess followed an orc attendant as he led her to the king's private dining chamber. She was clean, dressed in a new outfit, revitalized by the twilight tea that Deiara had brewed for her.

The attendant led her past a lush garden, up a set of stairs, and through an ornate doorway

Just beyond it, her mother sat waiting on a stone bench, a large door set in the wall next to her.

"There you are," she said, nodding thankfully at the attendant as he left them there.

"Where is father?"

"He is with the king. They wanted to discuss some things before dinner."

Gwennalyn sat down next to her mother.

"You must be enjoying herself here," her mother said.

If you only knew...

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, when they visited us, you took a liking to them."

"I did. I told you, they are a straightforward people, and I like that."

Her mother laughed lightly.

"Well, now that your father and King Victorin are talking again, we'll surely be seeing more of them."

"About that. I've been wondering. I remember when I was younger, there were orcs at the castle fairly often. Why did that stop?"

"The king's wife died. His grief made him retreat into his kingdom, into himself. Our kingdom and his had always been staunch allies; it was sad to see us lose that relationship."

"How did she die?"

"You know, I never found out."

"Hmmm. I wonder why he is reaching back out now?"

Her mother shrugged, obviously uncaring as to the answer.

The two of them waited patiently on the bench for a little while longer.

After a few minutes, footsteps came from the direction that the princess had come from.

Brand and Brash appeared then, striding purposefully through the doorway. Their faces masks of casual arrogance, they nodded at the two women with an approximation of respect. Gwennalyn did her best not to blush.

"Hello, Princes, how are you this evening?" her mother asked politely.

"Very well," Brash replied coolly, "how are the queen and princess faring?"

"Very well as well," her mother answered, "waiting for the kings."

Brand grunted noncommittally, both orcs taking up position against the wall across from the large door.

It finally opened after a few minutes, the awkward silence overbearing.

Another attendant shepherded them into the spacious dining room beyond. Her father and the orcish king stood on either side of a rectangular table, awaiting the new arrivals, several plates of food already on the table.

"Greetings, queen and princess," the king intoned, "you have joined us just in time for the first course."

Gwennalyn took a seat next to her mother, while Brash and Brand sat together, leaving the kings to occupy opposing sides.

The orcs began to fill their plates, and she followed suit. Used as he was to the way feasts went in his kingdom, her father attempted small talk with the princes, both of whom answered laconically. A second attempt at small talk with the king also fell flat.

Any conversation that occurred during the first course was thanks to the spirited efforts of her father, who was thrown off by the silence broken only by the light clattering of plates and the occasional bout of loud chewing.

Once the first course was finished, the conversation began.

Her father engaged the princes, who answered his questions and comments with barely concealed boredom. In turn, King Victorin talked to her mother, evidently more skilled than his sons at concealing his own boredom.

Finally, the king turned to her.

"So, princess, are you enjoying your stay so far?"

She nodded, fighting a blush.

"Very much so. I took a stroll around the castle today, met some of your guards."

Brand and Brash smirked from across the table.

Their father, turned to her as he was, thankfully did not see it, instead nodding sagely.

"Ah yes, our guards. Some of the best warriors in the kingdom."

"As are ours," her father cut in pompously.

"May I ask you a question?" she queried the king.

"I might not answer," he joked lightly, "but you are welcome to ask."

"Why do you have female guards?"

"Did you meet Shen or Zarra?"

"Both. Zarra when you visited us, and Shen today."

He sat back in his seat, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"My having female guards surprises you?"

"Yes. We have no such thing."

"We orcs believe in strength above all else. Or, we once did. Nowadays, we do value other things, such as intelligence and compassion."

Gwennalyn could not mistake the meaningful glance he sent his sons' way.

"Shen and Zarra are guards because of their skill," he continued, "and they are far from the first female orcs in the martial ranks."

"Such a thing is unheard of in our kingdom," she countered, "for instance, my father would never have a female guard, is that right father?"

He nodded.

"Women are kind creatures by nature. Combat does not suit them. I respect your inclusion of these females into your martial ranks, King Victorin, you know that, but such a thing would be met with derision and disbelief elsewhere."

"You remember my wife, yes?" the king replied, "So you must know that not all women are kind by nature."

Brand and Brash chuckled to themselves.

Her father smiled politely.

"Well, I meant our women. They are kind and fragile. I think of them as flowers. Tend them carefully, and they will grow to be beautiful."

Gwennalyn sat politely, while mentally rolling her eyes.

"Now, just because we do not involve women in certain matters does not mean we do not deem them important. Our great kingdom cannot succeed without the energy and enthusiasm of both its sons and daughters."

"Do you wish to take up a sword?" the king asked Gwennalyn. "Is that why you have an interest in my female guards?"

"Heavens no," she answered airily, "I am much too kind and fragile for that."

He chuckled, her father joining in politely, not as aware of her sarcasm.

"I was simply curious."

"If you have any other questions about our culture and kingdom, I would be more than happy to answer them."

Why are your sons such bastards?

"If I think of any, I shall let you know."

The king nodded, and turned back to her father, who began another conversation.

Thankfully, the second course arrived not long after, and the glorious silence resumed. The rest of the dinner was a mix of said silence and the conversations in between courses. After all four courses, the princess was stuffed, having delighted in the sumptuous foods before her.