Gwennalyn's Sexual Awakening Ch. 11

The firm grip returned to her hair and yanked her to her knees. She stared up at Akarra with wide eyes, squealing at the roughness. A second firm grip closed around the hand in her trousers, dragging it out. Her confused whine was met with a low growl.

"Enough," came the rebuke, "you don't get to cum until I make you."

With that, she was yanked to her feet, and shoved onto the table.

Akarra stripped her, tossing each garment to the floor until the delicate exquisiteness of that pale nakedness was fully revealed. The princess was left to squirm on the table as the orc stepped back to appraise her.

"Spread your legs wider. Show me that cunt."

The command made her moan, the thighs around her dripping womanhood parting further to display it, several fingers sliding along the petals to frame the slit nestled therein.

Akarra chuckled.

"Javin was not lying or exaggerating at all."

Gwennalyn nodded.

"All those rumors are the truth."

Akarra tilted her head in mild confusion.

"How does a Freelander princess become a very willing piece of meat for orcs?"

"Perhaps I am just lucky."

"Is it just orcs or are you like this with your own kind?"

The princess thought back to her time at the brothel in Rendevel, where she had entertained visitors in the guise of an actual whore.

"I can be like this with humans. But so far, orcs seem to bring out the best in me."

Akarra chuckled again, striding forward towards the princess. A strong hand came up to push her down against the table, the other hand diving down between her legs to caress in a surprisingly gentle manner at her cunt.

"I'll bet you're always dripping," the orc teased her, "walking around this castle looking at all the orcs who could be ravishing you."

"Not far off the mark," she said, the playful comment ending in a soft sigh as the caressing became a bit more assertive on the sensitive folds, gathering up the juices there.

The sticky nectar coated those fingers in a fine web. Akarra sucked at them, growling in satisfaction at the taste. The sight made Gwennalyn coo, her feminine flavor pleasing to her dinner host, who dragged her tongue up and down and in between each finger to clean off every last drop.

"You taste good, princess."

"Thank you."

"There are probably countless cocks in this castle smeared with this taste."

She nodded, watching as Akarra sent those fingers back to that dripping slit, this time easing two inside. A squeal spilled from her, the fingers curling deftly.

"Maybe I should call over some of the guards, have them fuck you while I watch. Then I could see how your cunt tastes shot full of seed."

The comment made her whine, images popping up instantly of her slender frame pinned down and brutalized by dozens of virile, vigorous orcs.

"Not now," Akarra told her, "I want you all to myself for now. Maybe someday."

Gwennalyn moaned, the images still swirling in her mind's eye, the imminent unlikelihood of such an arrangement unimportant to her creativity.

"I would have thought you'd beg for me to arrange such a thing, given what I've heard and now know about you."

A shake of her head made Akarra quirk her brow.

"What, you don't want to be taken by countless orcs?"

"I do. But it can happen any day of my stay here."

"I could arrange such a thing in no time at all. All you need to do is beg me to do so."

"I thought you wanted me all to yourself."

"I do. But what do you want?"

The princess shook her head, squirming as the fingers continued to work inside her.

"What I want does not matter."

Akarra purred in satisfaction at the response.

"So, not only are you a massive whore, but you're also a submissive little thing, huh?"

This time, a nod was the answer, along with a pitiful whine, the princess biting her lip at the way those fingers eased deeper, aiming to bury themselves to the knuckles in her welcoming sheath. The insistent motion dredged up more juices, the streams seeping out to trickle through her folds, leaking out more onto the table, where a thin puddle was now forming.

The princess leaned forward, supporting herself on her elbows, entranced by the sight of those fingers pumping into her soaked channel.

Akarra, however, had other ideas, her free hand coming up to push her down onto the table again, the princess squealing as her back smacked into the wood. The hand remained there, firm and unyielding. There was only a token struggle on her part, as she only wanted to feel that strength easily keeping her in place, overpowering her with no trouble.

Once the orc was satisfied that she would not move, that hand began to roam over the swath of her breasts, fading bruises still speckling the ivory flesh. Two fingers trapped a hard nipple between them, rubbing and tweaking mischievously. The sharp sensation swirled into the mix, stimulation from another sensitive area making the princess gasp, her hands gripping at the edges of the table on either side of her. The two fingers slid over to the other nipple, giving it the same attention, making the princess pant out stuttering breaths, wriggling uncontrollably.

Down between her legs, more fingers slipped inside her, spreading her slit out further, the new additions quickly lodging themselves deep. Fragrant juices were flowing liberally, dripping off her mound and down her taint to add to the puddle on the table, the streams sticking to the wood.

Gwennalyn felt the thrills building, an orgasm oncoming. Her cunt had four fingers inside it, each pumping ruthlessly, each buried to the knuckle, the back of that green hand by now dappled with her nectar, trails of the stickiness reaching the wrist. The other hand alternated between manipulating the hard nipples and caressing the flesh around them, the princess sucking a breath between her teeth whenever a bruise was teased over, the pain only making the orgasm approach quicker. A stream of whorish mewls spilled out in between those breaths, the tone of her voice growing more and more desperate as the point of release neared.

"Are you close?" Akarra purred. "Is your cunt going to cream all over my fingers?"

Gwennalyn nodded, biting her lip as the orc smirked in response.

"Go ahead then. You have my permission to cum."

"Thank you," she managed to gasp, feeling the fingers curling inside her, their pace increasing to drive her into that ecstasy.

The orgasm struck several seconds later, her quim seizing around the quartet of conquerors, dappling them in even more of her ambrosia. She cried softly, shuddering blissfully. Halfway through the euphoria, the fingers retreated, that sensation almost as potent as the previous stimulation.

Akarra had stepped back to watch her convulse in orgasmic bliss. Once the shudders stopped, the afterglow warm and soothing, she stepped forward, reaching out to drag the princess back off the table. Her squeals went ignored as she was shoved forward by the scruff of her neck towards the puddle of her nectar on the edge of the table.

"You made a mess," the orc drawled, her fist firm in those blonde tresses, "clean it up."

Her tongue peeked out immediately to run through the mess. That familiar flavor made her quiver and search out more. Gradually, the puddle diminished, until it had entirely disappeared, now settling in her belly.

From behind her, the orc chuckled, easing up with the grip on the back of her neck.

"Good girl."

Peeking over her shoulder, the princess watched as Akarra dropped back into her chair, lounging comfortably.

"Come here."

That cunt revealed itself as she spread her legs. Licking her lips at the sight, the princess quickly dropped to her knees, leaning forward to bury her face between those powerful thighs. Her tongue lashed all over the fragrant folds, slurping up the rampant trickles of nectar.

"You're welcome to come over for supper anytime you want," Akarra told her, stroking at her blonde tresses.

Gwennalyn stayed there for a while, pleasuring the orc enthusiastically, sending her through several climaxes, gorging on the streaming cream that gushed forth at each one. That musky flavor overwhelmed her tongue, mouthful after mouthful down her throat as she gulped heartily. One of her hands clutched at a muscular thigh while the other was plunged down between her own thighs, fingers frigging at her soaked quim.

Several orgasms washed over the orc from those dedicated efforts. The princess maintained the eager lapping, glancing up at those dark eyes, enjoying how she was controlled by an increasingly firm hand in her hair, first left to her own devices, after a while dragged an inch here or there. During the last part of their rendezvous, Akarra was content to keep that grip tight, her hips grinding against the princess' mouth. Whereas the orc was lazily indulging in such a sensation, Gwennalyn was moaning hotly, her fingers pumping harder, now four of them inside herself. Once again, she was in the familiar position of being used by a lustful orc, and once again, she felt wholly and entirely comfortable.

But finally, the time came for their amorous supper to end.

"Princess," Akarra told her, "while I would love to have you there for the rest of the night, I do have things to do."

A pout crossed her ambrosia-slicked lips as she leaned back.

"Like I said, you're welcome to visit me whenever you want. If you're not always busy getting destroyed by dozens of orc cocks."

The pout was replaced by a saucy smirk.

"I promise I will make time for you," she shot back.

The orc relaxed in her chair, eyes fixed to Gwennalyn as she went about finding her garments. The presence of that audience meant that it took longer for her to fully dress, as she put on a show, wiggling her ass enticingly while slipping on her panties and trousers.

Once she was dressed, Akarra, who had quickly redressed as well, padded to the door.

"Come, princess," she said, gesturing for her to follow, "I'll take you back to the royal castle."

Gwennalyn followed her downstairs and outside, the duo passing through the grounds, other orcs ambling by.

"Do you have any plans tonight?" Akarra asked her.

She nodded.

"I'm going to visit your cousin and his comrades."

"Oh? Perhaps I will stop by and watch the proceedings."

"You are most welcome to."

A small smile crept across her lips, matched by Akarra's smirk. Images already appeared in her mind's eye, of her pale nakedness squirming amongst numerous orcs, crying out as they pumped into her, some using her flesh to get themselves off, spurting creamy loads all over her face and breasts and belly. Those images made her bite her lip, hurrying a bit more to get back to her chambers. Her mind had been made up soon after her audition for Danagon that she would take advantage of their new arrangement right away.

"I can get back from here," she told Akarra as they reached the main castle.

"Very well then. See you later."

"Thank you for dinner," she chirped, curtsying as gracefully as possible in her trousers.

"Anytime, princess," Akarra replied.

Aside from one wrong turn rectified by asking nearby guards for directions, it did not take her too long to get back to her chambers.

Deiara was inside, waiting at the dining table, two cups before her, a barely restrained smile on her face.

"How was supper?"

Gwennalyn giggled.

"The supper was delicious, as was the host."

Her handmaiden rolled her eyes, a smile fully breaking through nevertheless.

Taking a seat at the table, Gwennalyn glanced into the cups, seeing red-tinged liquid settled in both.

"Is that the bloodclove tea?"

"Yes."

"And the second cup is for you?"

"Of course. Did you think you would be the only one in need of it? I don't plan to have halflings myself."

Deiara handed over one of the cups, and they drank together. There was a similar earthiness as in white blossom tea but also a strange and not entirely unpleasant spiciness.

"Baltar also told me that bloodcloves are more potent than white blossoms when it comes to preventing pregnancy. You won't have to drink it every day."

"Good. I won't have to listen to your daily nagging reminders."

Her handmaiden pursed her lips.

"If it weren't for me, you'd be heavy with that halfling we keep talking about."

"I know, I know."

"Or you'd be pregnant with Lucien's bastard."

Gwennalyn frowned.

"Why would you bring him up? This should be a Lucien-free zone."

Deiara sighed.

"Princess, you're going to have to marry him. Your stay here is only delaying the inevitable."

Gwennalyn harrumphed.

"You're putting a damper on what should be a fun night."

"What, you have plans?" her handmaiden asked doubtingly.

She nodded solemnly, a small smile creeping across her face.

"I'm going to whore for the guards."

"I thought you weren't allowed to. You enjoyed it too much."

"The brothers never actually said anything to the guards."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"And anyway, the king introduced me to his Chief Guard, and I proved that I could provide entertainment and pleasure for his guards. Whenever I want, I can go to their lounge and be their whore. I wish to do so tonight. I plan to have it be the first of many nights."

"You're incorrigible."

"I want you to come with me."

Deiara arched an eyebrow.

"I'm flattered. But I would not want to horn in on your happy place."

"Nonsense. Come with me, Deiara, please..."

Her handmaiden laughed, rolling her eyes.

"I have wondered what it would be like to be gang-fucked by orcs. I've only had that happen with human men."

Gwennalyn drained the tea with one swig and leaped from the chair to pad over to one of her trunks. Inside was a heap of her clothes, different dresses and other garments. Her fumbling fingers began to take off her current garments.

"Why are you changing?" Deiara asked her.

"Because I want to whore while dressed as a proper lady. It makes me feel naughtier."

Her handmaiden laughed again.

As the princess picked out her outfit, Deiara drained her tea, and waited until Gwennalyn was dressed.

The duo stole out into the castle corridors, her handmaiden leading the way, turning here and there confidently, as if she had lived there her whole life. Despite this expedition having the approval of the king himself, there was still a certain illicit flavor to their journey towards the guards' lounge.

Reliable as always, Deiara led them to their destination.

The door was open, so they slipped inside, Gwennalyn remembering her first time here, that afternoon spent servicing the guards.

Six orcs were lounging around in the main area. When the two women appeared, they glanced up, wide smiles appearing as they recognized the princess.

"Did Danagon tell you about our arrangement?" she asked them.

"Yes," one of them whose name she did not know answered, "he informed us that you might be coming by."

"My handmaiden and I shall be in the first room," she told them, "somebody should spread the word."

As the orcs discussed amongst themselves who might be relegated to messenger duty, she led her handmaiden into that first room, more memories coming back as soon as she stepped past the threshold.

"Nice place," Deiara quipped, glancing around at the lightly furnished room.

"It'll do just fine."

Five excited voices came from down the corridor, and a few moments later, the quintet crowded through the door. There was a moment of anticipation, where the orcs gazed at the two morsels before them.

"Would you like us to put on a show?" Deiara asked during that moment, padding over to the princess.

Each head nodded eagerly.

Gwennalyn giggled as her handmaiden slipped behind her, fiddling at her dress. In moments, her slim shoulders and meager cleavage were exposed to the five observers, the dress pulled off entirely.

"Why did you even wear a corset and panties?" Deiara asked her quizzically.

She shrugged.

"It felt somehow naughtier than being nude underneath the dress."

There was a silence for a few moments as her handmaiden worked on the corset. Gwennalyn could tell despite not being able to see behind her that she was rolling her eyes.

The orcs' gaze intensified as the corset slipped off, revealing her breasts. Next, Deiara knelt, her fingers lingering here and there as she slipped off the princess' slippers, stockings, and finally, panties. The blush that had risen on her pale flesh bloomed hotter. There were already noticeable bulges in the five trousers before her.

And then Gwennalyn herself became part of the audience as Deiara began to undress.

Although she had seen this so many times recently, it had yet to lose its luster for her, that luscious body showing off curve after curve with each scrap of clothing discarded. She sat down on the edge of the bed, spreading her legs to pet at her quim as she took in the end of her handmaiden's show, those panties taken off to expose that pink slice between her thighs. A few of the five orcs were visibly torn between which woman to watch; it thrilled her selfishly that she could match her handmaiden in terms of appeal to them.

Deiara clambered onto the bed to slink behind her. One of her hands joined the princess' at her mound while the other came around to caress at those breasts. Soft moans spilled from both women as they undulated against each other. Her handmaiden eased her pale thighs further apart, her hand slithering past the princess' to poke several fingers into her quim. As the princess whined desirously, her handmaiden ignored her, glancing past her ivory shoulder at the gathered orcs.

"She's been thinking about this all day long," Deiara purred, "she's so wet right now."

Those fingers worked deftly, stirring up the streaming juices, sending out shudders all over the princess. She leaned back against her handmaiden, arching her back to jut her breasts out further for that caressing hand and the five sets of eyes raking over the lustful duo.

"Look how wet she is," her handmaiden continued, "you can hear her cunt squishing around my fingers from there, can't you?"

They nodded, the bulges in their trousers twitching noticeably.

"She'll cum quickly, and then she's going to make me cum, and then you can come here and fuck us to your hearts' content."

They nodded again, hypnotized by the display before them, Deiara's sweetly erotic voice providing quite the complementary commentary.

A few more orcs appeared at the threshold, behind the original quintet. The salacious scene was enough to make them pause and appreciate the two minxes instead of simply rushing forward. Gwennalyn ran a hand now over her breasts in conjunction with her handmaiden, desperate for any bit of stimulation that would propel her closer to and over the climactic edge.

Several of the orcs began to undress in anticipation of when they would get involved. Their cocks revealed themselves, making her mouth water and her tongue lick out over her lips. Even with the splendid pleasure that her handmaiden's fingers were feeding into her body, she ached for the assembly of thick shafts to pound her senseless, one after the other, an unrelenting sequence of penetration, ruination, and insemination. It was less an insult to Deiara, who over the past few months had been a talented and eager bedmate, than it was evidence of just how whorish the princess had become.

The fingers worked faster, insistent and steady, more juices streaming out around them to stain the sheets on the bed. The warmth of her handmaiden's ample flesh cushioned her, providing a physical anchor for her to shudder back against, for her to nuzzle back into, the creamy brown flesh rubbing against her paleness.