Gwennalyn's Sexual Awakening Ch. 14

The constant parade of cock ensured that Gwennalyn was kept in a state of lust-drunk bliss. Orgasms washed over her with regularity and ferocity, the pleasure mounting constantly, the group barely caring if she was in the throes of ecstasy or not, battering her with their thrusts regardless, using her in just the way that she loved, treating her in just the way that she enjoyed, fucking her in just the way that she needed. And while the handmaiden was not as naturally submissive as the princess, Deiara nevertheless relished the relentlessness of the group and the ensuing barrage of sensations, her jubilant cries ringing out in the room during the few moments when her mouth was left unoccupied. The fewer glimpses that Gwennalyn stole of the older woman showed her in a similar state of disheveled euphoria, eyes wide, their dark brown bright and wild, sweat shining on the generous curves that she possessed, mingling with semen all over, the white splatters lashed across her cleavage, a favorite target of the group, as well as slicking her fingers and palms, more on her face, sticky cream running sluggishly down one cheek, a splotch clinging to her chin, several more up at her hairline matting down her usually lustrous tresses against her scalp.

The orcs using the women had tugged and shoved them into their current position a little while ago, having already fucked them in various other configurations, the princess sometimes separated from her handmaiden, on the other side of the bed, the action centered on the different points like a battlefield boasting two fronts. For Gwennalyn, such debasement was made better by her handmaiden experiencing it alongside her, and even more so any time they were physically brought together, semen-glazed bodies smearing along in their squirming, hands reaching out to caress when not used to stroke along throbbing lengths, mouths kissing at swaths of skin when not made to pay homage to fearsome shafts. The princess' pleasure was of no importance to the group, so they made no effort to keep her close to the handmaiden. The times that they did bring the duo together were for their own edification, to watch them indulge in shared whorishness, such a spectacle equal parts amusing and arousing.

Fresh spurts slapped suddenly onto her upper back, making her mewl, the incessant thrusting down her throat muffling the sound. Her hands, left alone for a few minutes, were once again grabbed, and led to straining spears of meat. The thick slabs pulsed dangerously, awaiting stimulation from her delicate fingers, a quick and frantic stroking that wasted no time in coaxing out potent loads, leaving her wrists, palms, and forearms dripping with seed, some of it falling off onto Deiara, the older woman cooing happily from the deluge.

A hand wound into her hair, and suddenly Gwennalyn was yanked back away from the cock pumping into her gullet, its bulbous head popping out from her lips and taking up position in her field of vision.

The formidable slab erupted, painting her face with more spunk, her mouth instinctively opening to let a few bursts land on her tongue. The heavy flavor of semen had already been plastered there from the continual oral abuse. Such a thing was not unfamiliar to her at this point, having had many orcish loads gush over her tongue and many meals ruined by the persistent muskiness.

Ruined or improved?

These sailors seemed to jump at the chance to overwhelm her palate with their masculine essence, the past few days making her swallow several loads whenever the handmaiden announced that it was mealtime. Earlier in the day, before her dinner with Prince Volfen, the gathered orcs in her chambers had coordinated in spurting their seed into her gasping mouth, and then had made her gargle with the combined amount. The princess had obeyed unquestioningly, opening her mouth wide and letting the viscous goo burble over her tongue, shuddering from the heat of their leering gazes, a few rogue streams escaping from the enthusiastic swishing to dribble down her chin.

Another load rained down onto her side, some of it sliding off her and onto the handmaiden. The cock aimed at her face had finished dumping more spunk there, and was now rubbing against her nose and forehead, adding spit mined from the depths of her maw to the mix of fluids caking her features. One eye was forced to close, the lashes encumbered by the stickiness. Still able to use the other, Gwennalyn watched as an orc clambered towards her. Behind her, his fellow sailor sodomizing her drove to the base, his length twitching moments before it began to spew semen into her bruised guts. At the same time, the two using Deiara reached their peaks moments apart, squirting their loads down her throat and into her womb.

As usual, the duo was given no chance to recover.

The princess was yanked upright by the hand still holding a fistful of her hair. Other orcs grabbed at the handmaiden, all holes now emptied, and pulled her onto her knees.

"You both look a mess," a nearby sailor commented, "think it's time for you to clean each other up."

The two women, having already been involved in various gang-fucks such as these since their arrival in Valenzis, knew what was expected of them before he had finished the sentence. Whereas the princess was quite willing to wait for a verbal confirmation, it was easy to tell from the look of sheer desire in her eyes that the handmaiden would have pounced on her in a moment even without it.

As it was, the words meant that Gwennalyn was able to meet Deiara halfway, embracing the other woman, their cum-glazed mouths colliding. That warm, shapely figure quivered under her fingertips as creamy spunk passed from tongue to tongue and those affectionate hands reached around to knead the meager flesh of her backside.

Around them, the group cheered them on as they kissed. The attention further inflamed both woman's whorishness, their kiss growing more passionate, tongues tangling wetly, their moans low and husky, the princess reaching up to caress the older woman's ample bosom, letting her thumb rub along a stiff nipple.

The handmaiden acted quickly and assertively, breaking the kiss, shoving Gwennalyn onto her back, and straddling her head. One hand wound into her hair, and with a rude yank, the princess found her mouth smushed against the handmaiden's cunt, the pink folds flooded with fragrant juices and spent semen. Immediately, she began to suck and slurp, her hips bucking mindlessly at the taste.

"That's good, just like that," Deiara murmured, grinding down against that eager mouth, her hand maintaining a firm grip on the fistful of hair it had gathered, keeping the princess' head close that way.

More spunk rolled over Gwennalyn's tongue, her frenetic swallowing bringing it all down into her belly.

The gathered sailors continued to greatly enjoy the spectacle, the handmaiden giggling at the bawdiest of the comments and jokes. A few orcs took time to reach out and grope the assets that Deiara possessed, slapping at her breasts, pinching at her ass, delighted coos spilling from her at each touch. The steady pace that she set atop the princess was matched by the rhythm of the oral adoration that she received. It took little time for another bout of ecstasy to strike her, more juices flowing out copiously, sliding down Gwennalyn's throat to add to the mess of bodily fluids that the princess had ingested.

"Good girl, that's it, keep that tongue going," Deiara purred, her voice tremulous.

The princess mewled underneath the handmaiden's weight, working to please her, the muscles of that sleek cunt clutching fitfully.

And then the steady pace stopped, Deiara dealing with another climax, her head thrown back, some strands of hair fluttering over her shoulders, the rest still stuck to her scalp by gooey semen. An orgasmic cry ripped from her, the orcs cheering excitedly. The princess kept her tongue wriggling in that channel, feeling the quivers running through the handmaiden's lush frame.

When the orgasm abated, Deiara let her head fall back forward, and the princess caught sight of a mischievous glint in her eyes.

The handmaiden shifted her weight forward slightly, ensuring that the princess was smothered by her slit. One of her hands was still gripping to that fistful of hair, and now the other reached down to the princess' nose, and pinched it shut. Gwennalyn was thus left unable to breathe.

This would have scared me not so long ago...

Now, her reaction was a barely discernable moan, her hips jerking instinctively into the air. She continued her worship of that delectable cunt, not concerned one bit by being cut off from air, instead awaiting the light-headed dizziness that would soon come. And even as her body started to struggle instinctively, separated from her craven mind, the princess continued to let her tongue work, looking up at Deiara, who met her gaze with that same mischievousness.

The familiar light-headedness arrived quickly, the princess swooning, her head swimming, her hips jutting up, her back arching. Darkness began to push in at the very edges of her vision; all that did was make her set her tongue to a quicker pace, seeking to send the handmaiden back over the orgasmic precipice.

After a few more seconds, Deiara let the princess breathe, chuckling at the unadulterated lust on the younger woman's face. Her hips rolled steadily down against the trapped mouth, one hand still holding a fistful of hair.

Suddenly, with an easy grace, the handmaiden twisted herself around, so that she was facing the opposite direction, and leaned forward. Her hands slithered underneath Gwennalyn's ass, and tilted it upwards, bringing that slick sex closer so that Deiara could reach it. A lewd groan came from underneath her as she began to lap at the slit, finding it drenched in spunk, just as hers was.

Their audience was as enthusiastic as ever, shouting encouragement to the duo as they pleasured each other. Gwennalyn quickly shoved her tongue through her handmaiden's asshole, finding plenty of semen oozing out, those wide hips pushing back against the stimulation. Her own womanhood was currently being cleaned of seed as well.

Orgasms came and went for them. Their adherence to their tasks was unwavering.

At least until the gathered orcs' enthusiasm for watching gave way to a desire for more debauchery.

The group swarmed the bed, separating the women, the majority pouncing on the handmaiden. Gwennalyn was hauled away from the madness, watching as Deiara disappeared into the throng of sailors. Her feet found the floor, and she swayed unsteadily, biting her lip as she suddenly caught sight of the older woman, hoisted into the air briefly, before again sinking out of view, an exultant shriek following a few seconds later.

The orc who had pulled her from the proceedings shoved her towards the door that led back into the main part of her chambers.

"Go get us some drinks, girl," he grunted.

Casting one more glance at the chaotic horde of bodies on the bed, Gwennalyn padded away, her bare feet slapping against the cool stone as she headed towards where the liquor was.

There were already some empty glasses back in the bedchamber, but she grabbed a few more for those who had arrived more recently. Several bottles waited for her, a few brought over by the sailors.

When she returned to the scene of raging depravity, she spent a few minutes filling up the various glasses left around, dutifully making sure that each orc had something to drink. The group paid her any mind, focused as they were on either partaking in or watching the proceedings. Gwennalyn could barely see the handmaiden, catching glimpses of her here and there, but from the exuberant squeals and whorish moans that came from the center of the action, it was easy to tell that she was enjoying the attention.

Once every glass was filled, the princess stayed off to the side, watching intently, quickly finding a chair to plop down into.

One of the orcs not partaking noticed her and strode over.

"What's wrong, princess?" he asked her in amusement.

"Don't you want to join in?" another sailor questioned her.

She shook her head.

"I'll just watch. I know my place."

The two orcs chuckled, but a third had heard her, and now joined his fellows in front of her.

"I don't think you do," he said.

She nodded.

"I do. My place is wherever you tell me it is. And since no one is fucking me, that means my place is right here, watching her take all those cocks."

The trio laughed now, uproariously, the princess blushing furiously.

The first of them to recover from the fit of mirth spoke up.

"That's right, girl. Your place is where we tell you it is."

She smiled, pleased by his words.

And then he reached out, quicker than she could react, and grabbed her by the shoulder.

The princess did not struggle as she was brought over to the side of the bed.

"Allow me to show you your place," the orc growled.

His assertive hand shoved her down onto her knees, and then onto all fours.

"Stay," he commanded, pointing rudely in her face to emphasize the order.

She waited patiently as he strode away, only moving slightly to peek over the edge of the bed, seeing mainly green flesh writhing all over, the crush of bodies obscuring the handmaiden, her presence only evidenced by her joyous cries.

After another minute, the orc came back, carrying along two lengths of rope.

Without a word, he tied one end of one rope around her neck. A shudder of arousal crept over her as he tightened it, the embrace pressing in, a discomfort that was more of a delight to her deviant sensibilities.

Not the first time I've been leashed...and hopefully not the last...

The orc tugged on the rope, forcing her down away from the edge of the bed, that spectacular view now out of sight. A soft mewl spilled past her lips at the brutish handling. The orc chuckled at her submissiveness as he tied the other end of the makeshift lead around the foot of the bed.

The result was that Gwennalyn was kept close to the bed, on all fours, every breath pushing its way past the bind that the rope maintained on her throat, the sensation making her thighs rub together mindlessly. She tested her leash, pulling slightly, enough slack there so that she was not flush against the side of the bed, granting her some range of motion. The rope, whether by design or happy accident, was too short to allow her to sneak a peek over the edge of the bed.

The orc circled around her, still wielding the other length of rope. Her hands were then unceremoniously yanked out from underneath her, his strong grip on them the only thing keeping her from falling forward. Her shoulders ached as he pulled, pinning her wrists together at the small of her back. The second rope was wound around them and tied tight enough to press harshly into her skin.

When he let go, she was unable to stop herself from falling forward onto the floor. The architect of her situation guffawed heartily as she whimpered pathetically, unable to move her head much, unable to move her hands at all let alone use them. More laughter sounded from behind her as a few more orcs caught sight of her. The groans and cries from the debauchery on the bed carried on, those involved there blissfully unaware of her pitiful station. Her cunt was gushing from the position that she had been put into, the complete and utter vulnerability before these sailors and the potent humiliation arriving along with it. It was a dangerously delicious combination, their eyes pinned to her as she squirmed helplessly on the floor, tied to the bed with her hands bound behind her back, their ribald comments mocking her so ruthlessly.

"Look at the little slag...is there anything we could do to her that she wouldn't cream at?"

"Maybe we should shove another bottle in her while we're at it..."

"I would feel bad for her if she weren't loving it so much..."

"You've got to give it to her, she does know her place..."

Over the next few minutes, the orcs continued to trade japes, Gwennalyn loving every second of it.

But quickly, their attention switched over to the action taking place on the bed, and one by one they clomped away, leaving her there, commenting now instead on the handmaiden and the onslaught that she was enduring.

Gwennalyn was left alone.

Taking the group's lustful abuses was a wonderful experience. Feeling her cheeks burn from the shame of their jokes was also wonderful in its own way. The question that the first orc had asked proved difficult for the princess to answer, but she did know that what the orcs were currently doing to her was entirely acceptable, just as fucking her and humiliating her had been. Neglect did nothing to shake her submissiveness. These orcs could use her however they wished, and if they decided instead to not use her...

My place is where they tell me it is. So, this is my place.