Gwennalyn's Sexual Awakening Ch. 11

As she wallowed in the afterglow, that hand moved to her throat, a pitiful squeak coming from her as the strong fingers closed around it. Combined with a particularly powerful thrust, the rude act triggered another orgasm, the princess choking out a cry, her body writhing wildly on the desk, easily corralled nevertheless by the orc's strength. A small smirk appeared on his lips at the sight of her reaction.

Her vision dimmed. The weak wheezing from her trailed off as she struggled to breath. He drew back again and restarted the rhythm. The light blue of her eyes rolled back in their sockets from the swirling thrills, intensified by the lack of air.

And then he let up, Gwennalyn gasping and coughing, still caught in the throes of ecstasy.

"So you do like being choked. And here I thought you were just putting up with Harrum."

She giggled weakly. His hand moved to the slight rise of her breasts. The nipples crowning each one attracted his attention, their pink erectness tweaked and teased. That punishing beat of his hips on hers carried on while he busied himself with fondling her bosom.

The first few climaxes were quickly followed by more. Her moans were ceaseless; she found herself imagining somebody passing by the office, hearing the noises but unaware that it was the princess herself making them.

Although any orc would probably know that it's me.

The hand at her breasts slid down to her hip, clutching opposite the other hand. They squeezed possessively to keep her securely in place, the orc growling as his thrusts came harder, rocking her defenseless body, her pale flesh rippling from the impacts. Another orgasm made her cry out, her legs slipping from his waist, dangling uselessly on either side of it, juddered by the rough hammering.

Easily able to tell that his release was nearing, she began to urge him to his finish.

His eyes blazed, the last few thrusts jabbing deep into her cunt, the final one leaving him buried inside her to the base, throbbing with the oncoming flood of fresh semen.

"Breed me," she begged, biting her lip at the way her plea made him growl bestially.

The first spurt burst forth, splattering her womb with potent seed. Danagon snarled, staring down at her as he filled her with more, the spray hot and hard, pushing her into another orgasm. Her legs locked back around his waist in an unnecessary attempt to keep him lodged inside her.

The flow of seed warmed her, the afterglow settling in, leaving her shuddering and cooing, watching him come down from the ecstasy as well. That harsh grip on her hips left as he moved back, breaking the weak hold of her legs. His eyes flickered down to where their sexes were fused, watching as he vacated that channel. She whimpered at the feeling of that thickness sliding back along the walls that it had so thoroughly stretched out. Once every inch slipped from her confines, he dropped into his chair, groaning in satisfaction.

Wanting to make the best impression on him, she heaved herself off the desk, sinking to her knees before him. Her mouth found his cock, smeared with their combined fluids. A surprised grunt came from him, the princess now kissing and licking at his meat, purring all the while. The taste was delightful, as was the look on his face, eyes wide and jaw slack, his hand coming down to wind into her hair. Rivulets of her ambrosia mingled with specks of his cum, the mixture quickly sucked up by her enthusiastic mouth. She worked her way up and down, pausing at the head to nudge the tip of her tongue into the slit at the top, taking that same amount of time down below the base to drag her lips along his balls, cleaning more of her juices off that musky pouch.

After several dedicated journeys up and down, Gwennalyn indulged for a few minutes, locking her lips around those fat testicles, slurping loudly. Drool ran off her lips, some sticking to the crinkled orbs, the princess spending quick seconds in turn lapping her own spit off the leathery sack. The smirk from before returned on his face.

From her energetic administrations, his cock swelled back to readiness.

Breaking away from his testicles, she stood, turning to bend over the desk, reaching back to spread the cheeks of her ass.

"I have one more hole for you to sample."

After a quick chuckle, he stood and moved up behind her. A few of his fingers slipped into her cunt, steadily leaking his seed, and swirled in the mess, finding a gooey coating. With the princess offering her asshole up, those fingers first daubed the cream all over that crinkled bud before pushing through to do the same to her insides.

Once he was satisfied with the improvisational lubrication, his focus shifted to stretching her out a bit, his fingers flexing against the walls of her bowels. Her already ebbing patience diminished further, the desire to be torn open once again paramount.

Danagon slid his fingers out. Her breath caught in her throat when she felt the head of his length press against her anus a moment later. Even with the sheen of semen easing his passage, it took him a bit of effort to squeeze through the tight entrance, her asshole having adjusted back to normal since the last time it had taken an orc. She shuddered against the cool wood of the desk, focusing on that moment of penetration, when the broad tip compelled her body to yield, the first few inches after not waiting to follow, her insides once again accepting a thick shaft. As earlier with her quim, there was no need for involvement on her part to reach full impalement. His strength and insistency would render any attempt from her to help redundant.

Shivers ran along her flesh as he eased deeper. His hands took hold of her hips.

A low growl came from him at the sensation of her straining anus. Ambrosia mixed with more strands of his spent semen streamed forth, running down her thighs.

His hands tightened, and he shoved forward, forcing more through her asshole. The room was silent for a few moments, aside from their heavy panting.

And then he shoved forward again, putting muscle behind it, not letting up even when the tightness of her insides smothered him. She mewled, trembling and sweating, arms extended out, her fingers gripping the edge of the desk. His cock came to a stop, by now halfway through her sphincter.

"How is your ass still tight?" he growled. "I heard you gave it up to the princes every night this last week."

"And to your guards earlier in the week," she added.

"Of course, how could I forget? That too."

She felt one of his hands leaving her hip, sneaking down to collect more of the mixture slicking her thighs. A glance over her shoulder showed him glaring down at where he was spearing her asshole. His free hand went down there, the princess picturing him using the fluids as extra lubrication, making it easier for the remaining inches. Sudden curiosity rose in her mind, so she reached back, caressing at what was still outside her, bumping into his hand applying the recently gathered creaminess.

A strong grip latched onto her wrist, the princess yelping in surprise, that hand then pinned to the small of her back, the other hand quickly in the same predicament. She was left immobilized, only kept from falling forward by his grip, both of her wrists held in one of his hands. The other one snaked up to her hair to take a firm fistful.

This was a situation she had found herself in often lately. While many women she knew would have been terrified by such helplessness in the face of a lustful orc, Gwennalyn embraced it enthusiastically, in fact craving it these days.

"Make me take it," she whined whorishly, "make me take your cock. Don't stop until every inch is inside me."

"That's the plan."

The hand at her hair yanked as his hips thrust. A weak gasp spilled from her parted lips at the dual feelings, thick meat surging into her guts combined with her head wrenched backwards. Danagon kept up the pressure with his forward motion, fitting inch after inch through, groaning at the way that she clenched around him, her asshole easily conquered, made to stretch further.

There were still a few inches remaining. The princess keened as he slid back slightly.

And then he drove forward, stirring up a cry from her.

His hips drew back again, and then swung forward, striking deep, more inches crammed through.

He began to fuck her, building up a rhythm, her gasps stuttering out from the continual force. The thickness hammered at her asshole, more and more fitting inside, until the last bit lodged into those innards, the princess crying out in ragged submission, her guts packed with every inch of his shaft. Even with that accomplishment, he did not let her adjust, the rhythm unrelenting. Ecstasy battered her, intense and overwhelming. Her hands were still in his grip, his other hand keeping her head back and her spine arched with the occasional yank at her hair, each of those yanks making her tongue lick over her lips and her eyes flutter. The desk creaked, his effort growing stronger and rougher until he was energetically rutting her ass. She wailed joyously, taking those piercing thrusts deep into her belly, each one impossible to ignore, more orgasms set off.

The hand in her hair shoved her forward, whacking her face into the desk, the sudden contact disorienting her briefly. He shifted, still pounding into her, no quarter given, preventing her from reorienting. The sound of his cock striking true repeatedly rang out in the office, her ambrosia coating her mound, taint, and thighs, making the noises wetter and obscener. Drool spilled slightly from her lips to form a thin puddle on the desk.

His strength left her helpless, from the hand pinning her head down, to the powerful strokes driving into her insides. As her head finally stopped spinning, she whined pitifully, legs kicking up intermittently, cunt seizing from the roiling pleasure.

"No wonder my guards enjoyed you so much," he growled.

She giggled weakly at the comment, clenching her asshole around him, earning a snarl in response. Just like with the many other times she had been sodomized by an orc, the relentlessness of the assault gradually loosened her anus, so that it took each subsequent drive easier and easier.

The hand pinning her wrists eased and slid up to her head. As it moved around to her mouth, the fist gripping her hair let go, and matched its counterpart on the other side. Three fingers pushed past her lips from either side of her head, curling into her mouth, making sure it stayed open.

The princess mewled meekly as he pulled with his fingers. Her head was wrenched back further than before, her lips wide, drool running forth onto his fingers. The rude maneuver only made her cunt gush yet again, her moans turning into wet gargles as she slobbered all over herself, hands scrabbling uselessly on top of the desk.

"You like that, princess? You like being fucked like a whore?"

Her attempts to answer were fruitless, and amusing to him, a few wry chuckles mixing in with his grunts. The only result of those attempts was more drool dribbling across his fingers and her chin.

She was kept in this unladylike position, all the while her eyes fixed on the door to the office, part of her wishing that someone would enter to witness her whorishness on full display. The streams of her saliva reached the delicate stem of her neck, leaving the ivory flesh gleaming. Her cunt seized again, dappling his balls in nectar, more of it flowing out onto her upper thighs as well.

The thrusts increased in force again. His length pulsed in her guts, heralding an oncoming release.

He growled, tugging his fingers out from her mouth to shove her unceremoniously down onto her desk, the constant impacts in her belly stirring up her insides.

Those impacts kept up even through his orgasm, spurts erupting out in heated ropes. Another series of climaxes washed over her. He pumped steadily, ruining her asshole further even as he seeded her guts. The princess clutched at the desk, quivering at the warm flood bathing her bowels and the ruthless passage through that sloshing sea. His thick fingers pressed firmly against her cheek and temple, keeping her head down on the desk.

Danagon only stopped once every drop had been loosed. The pressure eased on her head, and then he slid back, her asshole twitching weakly around him during the retreat. She felt him move off her, all too soon depriving her of his cock.

When she glanced back, he was reclining in his chair, head tilted up, a satisfied smirk across his face.

Still wanting to leave him impressed, she slid back off the desk, plopping herself down between his thighs. He glanced down at her, arching an eyebrow. Her tongue snuck out to taste herself on the flesh, the flavor making her giggle with delight. Trails of her saliva went all over, leading down to his testicles. She glanced up at him, sucking eagerly at the musky pouch, running her fingers worshipfully over the dark green member rising above her face.

"Whenever you want to be their whore," he began, "just go to their lounge. I'll let them know of our arrangement, and they'll spread the word to their fellows whenever they see you there."

She leaned back, still stroking at him.

"Thank you. I promise I will not disappoint."

He chuckled, groaning then when she returned to his balls, slurping her own cream off.

After a few more minutes of such indulgence, she gave one last lingering kiss to the leathery testicles and then stood to gather her clothes. He watched her dress, ignoring the papers strewn about on the floor around his desk.

"And I will expect you here every so often," he told her, "so that I can make sure myself that you are still performing to expectations."

She nodded, grinning widely.

"Of course. Such is your right."

Once fully dressed, she curtsied, and left, practically bouncing forth, happy and excited.

The way back to the king's dining chambers was familiar enough that she only had to ask a guard for direction once. From there, it was little time until she was back in her own chambers. Her handmaiden was elsewhere, so Gwennalyn flounced onto their bed, stripping quickly. Gooey semen coated her mound and taint and flowed still from her nethers, so she fed herself fingerfuls, the delicious cream rolling over her tongue and down into her belly.

This gorging led to her simply lounging on the bed, running her hands all over herself, sometimes leisurely cataloguing the remaining bruises, idly caressing each angry stain, shuddering at the memory of their creation, other times masturbating frenetically, thrusting her hips into the air against her pumping hand, feet planted on the rumpled blankets for maximum leverage. In the moments after the ecstasy, secure in the afterglow, she cleaned her own ambrosia off each finger with a slutty thoroughness, purring in satisfaction.

It was with no little amount of reluctance that she heaved herself from the bed when the hour for her afternoon rendezvous with Nefera approached. Mindful of what the king had said, she chose an outfit that back home would only have been worn if she were out riding.

The ankle boots, simple trousers, loose tunic, and leather vest were complemented by the same pink panties from before underneath, a little detail that she found a delightful feminine touch amidst the more masculine clothes. She wore her hair in a loose tail, snatching up a straw hat, throwing it on her head in a decidedly rakish angle.

If only father and mother could see me now...

Expecting a knock at the door, she waited out the time by reading one of the tomes she had brought with her, lounging in a chair in the main room.

Finally, the expected knock came.

It was an unfamiliar orc, who bowed respectfully.

"I am Ruvor, the attendant to Nefera. She is waiting for you. If you would follow me, please..."

With that, they set off. As they strode along, she made sure to focus on her surroundings, in case it was necessary to navigate back to her chambers on her own.

Their destination was the courtyard where the castle stables were. Behind the stables was a large circular stretch of fenced-in space, where several horses trotted about, each one with an orc alongside.

Nefera was waiting, already astride a horse. Next to her were two more, their reins held by a young, burly orc. He stepped forward, the horses ambling forward after him.

Ruvor stepped past the princess, taking one of the horses' reins from the other orc, climbing quickly atop the mount.

Gwennalyn glanced at the remaining horse, slightly larger than her own back home, a dark brown color with lighter swaths here and there. It snorted softly, returning her gaze with a stoic indifference.

"'Is name's Cocoa," the young orc explained, "e's a good horse."

"I like his name," she said, smiling at both orc and horse.

"I named 'im that b'cause he's brown...like cocoa."

She giggled.

"Fulg," Nefera cut in, "help the princess onto Cocoa."

The young orc gaped at the naval advisor.

"Princess?!"

Nefera nodded.

"She's not dressed like it right now, but she is the daughter of King Freirick of the Free Lands. She will be staying with us for a few months."

Fulg bowed deeply.

"My apologies, princess."

"You are forgiven," she said airily.

Nefera rolled her eyes.

"Fulg," she sighed, "help the princess onto Cocoa."

"O' course, right away!"

Gwennalyn shook her head, waving off his extended hand.

"Thank you, but I can manage myself."

In truth, every time she had ever mounted Zephyr to take him out for a ride, it had been with the help of one of the stable hands. It was only on the way back that she could do so herself.

After all, no proper lady should mount a horse herself. So undignified...

Coca snorted as she clambered atop him. Murmuring gently, in the same manner she would with Zephyr, she ran a hand up his mane, his bulk shifting slightly underneath her.

"I think 'e likes you," Fulg said brightly.

She giggled, nodding thankfully.

"Come, princess, we have much to see," Nefera called, already bringing her horse around.

They departed, the attendant falling in behind them.

One of the side gates from the castle was closer to the stables than the main gate, so they exited there into the city proper, the spires and towers rising above them into the placid blue sky.

During the week, when she had accompanied her parents on trips about the city, her mind had been occupied with thoughts of what the brothers might do to her later that day.

But now, with them gone, she was able to take in the sights, sounds, and smells, watching as the orcs went about their daily business, a few stopping to give a second glance to the trio, most ignoring them. The general environment was not dissimilar to Crownhold, as befitting the capital city of a major nation.

"So, princess," Nefera began, "what do you know about the history of your land's naval culture?"

Gwennalyn thought back to the lessons her tutors had imparted upon her. Some had been easier to remember than others, depending on her interest or the skill of the tutor in engaging that interest.

"I know that the lands that became the Free Lands were discovered by Estefaloni sailors. They landed and made a home on the southern shores, eventually expanding further northwards and westwards. They mingled with the populace and the pirates who had also settled there, eventually forming a culture different from their native Estefalon."

"Correct," Nefera acknowledged with a nod.

"At first, the sailors who had landed and settled were reluctant to return to the seas, but they shared their wisdom and knowledge with those they had joined, who wanted to explore the seas. Much of our naval knowledge, customs, and traditions can be traced back to the Estefalon of that age."