Gwennalyn's Sexual Awakening Ch. 15

"No, but even if I had, I would not have expected a human. This one must be either very needy or very hardy to withstand all these orcs. How much are you paying her?"

The prince chuckled.

"Nothing. She does this for the love of cock."

The knight answered with a noise somewhere between surprise and disgust.

"Is she from the Free Lands?"

"Originally. She works now in one of our brothels."

"I was not aware that there were any human whores here."

"How many brothels have you checked?" another voice asked.

Sir Hathwell laughed.

"None, of course. It is just a surprise. This one must be a special kind of wretched."

This time, the prince laughed.

"Yes, she is."

Footsteps followed, and Sir Hathwell's voice came from closer by.

"And why the sack? Is she shy?"

"Well," the prince began, "she does not want to be seen here. She thinks all these orcs would seek her out at her brothel. It would add to the demand and be too much for even someone as eager as her."

"That makes sense."

The prince chuckled.

"So," Sir Hathwell continued, "why did you want to show me this?"

"Tell me, what does your wife think of sodomy?"

The answer, predictably, was a scoff of incredulity, sounding to the princess somewhat dramatized.

"Sodomy is outlawed in the Free Lands."

"We are not in the Free Lands, and you did not answer my question."

There was a moment of silence, during which Gwennalyn imagined Sir Hathwell hemming and hawing, searching for a polite answer.

"She does not think it appropriate," was that polite answer.

"And you know this how?"

Another few moments of silence followed.

"Come, Sir Hathwell," a third voice cut in, "you are among friends. We will keep your secrets."

Another short silence followed.

"Well," Sir Hathwell finally spoke up, "I asked her about it once. About what she might think about trying it."

"And what did she say?" the prince asked.

"She told me to go find myself a whore."

"So, I take it she has not given up that particular hole yet?"

Another scoff sounded; the mental image of a blushing Sir Hathwell filled Gwennalyn's mind.

"No, she has not, and I do not imagine she will. She is my wife, after all. Such a wicked thing would be improper."

The prince again chuckled.

"Well, she told you to go find yourself a whore. And as luck would have it, here is one."

The princess moaned, the sound ringing out impossibly loud in the small room despite the sack covering her mouth. The conversation had been exceedingly interesting to her, so she had remained quiet throughout. But now, with the prince's intention made clear, she was excited and aroused by the scandalous idea.

A vague shape appeared to her left, the silhouette leaning over her, a hand pulling the bottom of the sack up over her mouth.

"You heard that, right?" Vyren asked. "It sounded to me like she wants cock."

"From the looks of it," Hathwell countered, "she has had plenty."

"Indeed, but we made sure to stay away from her asshole. It has been undefiled throughout this party. Fresh and tight. Ready for you, if you want it."

Oh, so that's why no one has been fucking my ass...

"I must turn down the invitation," Hathwell said, with a definite reluctance, "if my wife were to find out..."

"Who would tell her?" the prince replied. "It would be our secret."

The princess fought back a giggle, and then, partly to entertain herself, and partly to play up her role, spoke up.

"I won't tell," she purred, making sure to change up her voice slightly, adding a smoky lilt, "so long as you fuck me good enough."

The knight sputtered in indignant surprise, while the orcs laughed.

"You see?" the prince commented. "Your wife will be none the wiser. You will experience the pleasures of sodomy, and she will keep her asshole virgin. Surely your gods would approve of such an arrangement."

It was obvious that the proposition was tempting to him. Both the prince and princess were of the same mind in trying to tempt him further.

"I am sure if she were here," the prince mused, "your wife would tell you to do it. It would make her life easier, no doubt."

"Please, Sir Knight," Gwennalyn mewled, halfway between arousal and amusement, "take my ass. Tear it open, stretch it out, make it yours."

"You can hear how much she wants it. This one is no actress."

"I need it, Sir Knight, please. No one has fucked me there yet. Please...take my ass."

After another brief pause, she heard footsteps coming closer, and a soft chuckle.

"Good choice. You will find this one very accommodating. Anything you do to her, she loves it. Was born to be a whore, weren't you?"

"Yes, I was," the princess answered, "it's what I was meant to be."

"You do not talk like a whore," Sir Hathwell commented.

I guess I've been talking too much...damn my whorishness...

"Have you been around enough to know how they sound?" Vyren mused, quicker on his feet.

"No," Sir Hathwell answered hurriedly, "but I know how commoners sound. I've been around enough of them. This one doesn't sound like one."

"And I've been around enough nobles to know how they sound," Gwennalyn countered, making sure to color her voice just enough to sound different, "so I try to speak like them. A whore who sounds high-class will make more money than one who sounds common."

Sir Hathwell made a noncommittal sound, almost like a verbal shrug.

"Are you satisfied, Sir Hathwell? Or would you like to interrogate her further?"

The knight made a sputtering sound this time, before marshalling words.

"I was not interrogating her. And please, I keep telling you, call me Hathwell. We are friends now, are we not?"

"Of course," the prince said smoothly, "but I know how much you Freelanders love your titles."

"Well, when they are hard-earned, one tends to demand that recognition. Be that as it may, call me Hathwell, please."

"Very well then, Hathwell."

"What shall I call you?" Gwennalyn asked cheekily.

"Whatever you like," the knight answered drily.

"Very well then, Sir Knight," she said, making him chuckle.

Sir Hathwell fell silent for a few moments, and then she felt his hands on her backside.

"Good gods, you really have been used well tonight, haven't you?"

"Not well enough," she said, "I have one hole still untouched."

The knight grunted.

As he readied himself, she quivered, fighting back the occasional giggle at this situation.

If only he knew...

A loyal and sycophantic vassal of her father's was about to fuck her and be none the wiser. Any man of the Free Lands if presented with a chance to lay with the princess would have treated her with great care and utmost respect, but as Sir Hathwell had no clue as to her identity, he would undoubtedly treat her much differently.

This is not the first time I've fucked a Freelander, but this is the naughtiest time...he would have loved to have been betrothed to me or one of my sisters, no doubt, for what status it would have conveyed to him. Now he can't even tell anyone he fucked a princess, sodomized her no less, because he does not even know...

A giggle did escape her this time as Sir Hathwell squeezed harder at her meager rump.

"Not much meat on you," he commented. "How did you take all those orcs?"

"The gods blessed me with whorishness," she answered cheekily.

He chuckled softly, and then she felt his cock nudging against her cunt. The pink petals were awash with sticky cream, so it was easy for him to slip inside. Although it was not a formidable orcish slab like the ones she had grown accustomed to, it was nevertheless delightful to feel it pushing deeper. Part of that delight was the idea that he was, unbeknownst to him, defiling his king's daughter, a breach of trust and decency that in most contexts would lead to his ruination.

That cock only stayed in her cunt for a few moments, before slipping back out.

And then it met her asshole.

Over the time she had already spent in Coronhar, she had taken many orcs inside that tender ring, its natural tightness torn open daily.

So, it gave way quickly to this intruder.

Just as with her womanhood, even though it was not as long and thick as an orcish shaft, it nevertheless made her quiver as it forced its way through her anus. A lewd moan fell from her, followed by a sigh of pleasure from the knight.

"Ah, she's tight," he breathed.

The pressure that he kept up sent more inches inside her, quickly stretching her asshole. She luxuriated in the decadent sensation of a spear of flesh squishing into her guts, its passage at first slow and steady enough to let her adjust. The experience of brutish orcs rutting at her asshole had prepared her for this, both the smaller shaft and the gentler pace. It was still slightly uncomfortable as more inches packed into her bowels, a twinge blooming in her belly from the intruder in an orifice not intended for one. Pleasure came easily from this violation.

"Good gods," the knight murmured.

"How does it feel?" the prince asked.

"Soft...and warm."

"Good, I take it?"

"Incredible."

"Maybe this was a mistake," one of the other orcs said jokingly, "you'll enjoy it too much and ask your wife for it more."

Hathwell chuckled, and then slapped lightly at the princess' ass.

"It's a shame she's shy. I would visit her often if I knew where to find her."

The orcs laughed, and Gwennalyn knew they were amused by more than that comment.

You know where to find me...

The passage of his cock continued, steadily filling her insides. She groaned huskily, grinding back as best as she could.

Once every inch was inside her, he took some time to bask in the sensation of her asshole clutching and twitching. Both hands now squeezed at her hips. His heavy breaths tickled her lower back.

His patience, however, had its limits, and soon, his hips swung back. The next thrust was insistent but not hard, a quicker push through her anus, those inches returning.

Another thrust came soon after and was just like the first, a restrained back and forth instead of the savage pounding that Gwennalyn had come to crave.

"You can have me harder," she cooed, wiggling her ass, "tear me up, Sir Knight, leave me sore."

He grunted in surprise, but the next few thrusts were like their predecessors. There was a measured approach here, the knight unwilling to use any sort of strength besides that which had been required to open her up.

"You're not sodomizing your wife," one of the orcs commented, "this one is a whore. Treat her like one."

"Please, Sir Knight," she mewled, "fuck me hard, I need it..."

"If she can take orcs," Vyren said wryly, "she can certainly take the worst you have to offer."

Even with the chorus of assurance, Hathwell stayed with the same pace, his cock sliding along smoothly. It was of course pleasurable for the princess as well, that stimulation building up towards an orgasm.

But I need it hard...I need it rough...I need to be fucked and ravaged...

The princess knew that Hathwell would not be able to match the sheer might and savagery that these orcs could offer.

It'd be unfair to expect him to do so...but he can at least fuck me...that's all I need...maybe I just need to give him a little push...

"This is why I left the Free Lands," she whined dramatically, "the men are indecisive and weak. An orc would be going at me right now, making my guts ache, but you're too shy to give me what I need. It's pathetic..."

The scornful remark made him growl in annoyance, while the orcs burst out laughing.

"Come on, Hathwell," she urged, "fuck me like the whore I am."

"I am a knight," came his prideful snarl. "You will address me as Sir Hathwell, girl."

She giggled excitedly, imagining how horrified he would be if he knew her identity. His reaction delighted her, so she doubled down on her intransigence.

"You'll have to earn it, boy," she spat back at him.

"Disrespectful little whore! You will call me Sir."

"If you fuck me hard enough, I'll call you whatever you want."

He growled again.

And then began to fuck her, switching from steady and smooth to harsh and rude, his cock quickly jabbing through her anus, leaving her crying out gleefully. The bench shook from his thrusts, his reluctance gone now as he laid into her, angered by her disrespect.

"Is that how you want it?" he asked archly.

"Is that all you can give me?" she shot back breathlessly.

The orcs chuckled from beside them.

"Impertinent little bitch," came Hathwell's reply as he pumped his hips harder, rocking her with all the strength he could muster.

The princess squealed happily, enjoying the abuse, how roughly he hammered at her, how energetic his effort was, how disrespectfully he spoke to her while entirely unaware that he was defiling his king's daughter.

"You must truly be a depraved creature to need daily savagery from the orcs," he spat angrily.

"Indeed," she managed to purr, "I could not get what I needed back in the Free Lands. Those weak men could not satisfy me..."

"Am I not satisfying your needs now, girl?"

She laughed airily, licking her lips at the spitefulness in his voice, at the thought that he saw her as only some nameless, faceless whore who that deserved the treatment he was doling out. His hips battered at her, sending that shaft right into her belly, the repeated strikes against her core helping to usher an orgasm closer. While this abuse was not as brutal as what the orcs could unleash, it was still wonderful, the ache in her guts as exquisite as ever.

"You're doing better," she finally gasped, "but there wasn't much to improve upon, so..."

His snarl of indignation made her giggle.

Hathwell, instead of responding, just reached down and pulled the sack down over her mouth again, muffling the giggle. Her giggle became a moan as she indulged in the salaciousness of the moment.

Gods, I would love to see the look on his face if he were to find out who this faceless whore is...

"Tired of the conversation?" one of the orcs asked Hathwell.

"I don't know why I've even been talking to her," the knight said tersely, "she's a whore. Her job is to take my cock, not speak."

The orcs chuckled, as the princess moaned again at the callous words.

"I don't know why you didn't do that earlier," the prince said.

"Neither do I."

With the princess' voice thus muffled, the knight set about to fucking her, not letting up on the rough rhythm. The bench shook but was strong enough to hold out against even orcs.

A climax quickly broke out over her, the cry of ecstasy muffled but nevertheless noticed.

"Was that climax?" the knight asked, hints of amusement and pride in his voice.

"Yeah," one of the orcs answered, "but don't think too much of it. She's easy like that, gets off on pretty much anything."

"We put a bottle inside her gash once," another supplied, "and she just came and came and came."

"A whole bottle?"

"Yeah. It fit all the way inside her."

"Good gods...sodomy is one thing, but that sounds more like torture."

"She likes that sort of thing."

"What, you haven't noticed?" another voice cut in. "The rougher the better in her mind."

The knight only laughed darkly at that comment.

Another climax washed over her quickly. She giggled idly to herself, utterly delighted by the situation.

This will be our little secret...

His breathing grew harsher, more guttural growls coming from him now, his grip tight against her flesh, the discomfort there mingling with the pleasure.

And then she felt a familiar warmth spreading in her belly. The knight kept pumping his hips as he came inside her, the pace still the same even through his climax. The unceremonious orgasm only inflamed her lust, as although she had grown used to begging the orcs to let such a prize paint her innards, the lack of notice or attention from Hathwell meant that he cared little to nothing about her beyond what stimulation she was providing.

"Ooh, that feels so good, Sir," she mewled, quivering as more ecstasy struck her.

Hathwell gave no answer to that muffled praise, only grunting in satisfaction as the spurts died down, his hips stilling now, one last forward push leaving him buried to the base inside her, ensuring that those last spurts would reach as deeply inside her as possible.

When they finally ended, he stayed hilted inside her for a few moments, enjoying her asshole stretched around him, the combined warmth of her guts and his spent semen encircling his shaft.

But when that cock left, it did so quickly, yanked out unceremoniously, the cool air of the room quickly helping to soothe her aching anus.

"How was it?" the prince asked.

"Incredible," the knight answered, "I just wish it had lasted longer."

"She'll be in here the rest of the night," one of the other orcs said.

"Yeah, just come in here in a little bit and fuck her again," another added.

"I just might do that."

I hope you do...

The group left the room after a few moments. The princess heard footsteps coming her way once the door closed, and then felt someone start to tug the sack up over her mouth. It reached the bridge of her nose before she whined in disappointment.

"Keep it on, please," she whimpered.

An uncaring grunt answered her plea, and then the sack was yanked back down.

The previous cavalcade of abuse started back up quickly, several orcs tramping into the room in under a minute, setting about to claiming her holes. This time, one of them aimed for her asshole and skewered it with a strong thrust.

"Thank Irezis that Freelander finally got his turn," he commented, "now her ass is open for business."

A hand yanked the sack back up over her mouth, and a throbbing member was fed through her lips.

"Just don't tear it up too much," its owner spoke up, "I want to fuck it after I'm done with her mouth."

"She'll be fine," the first voice shot back, "do you know how many times she's taken it up the ass?"

"Too many to count," came a third voice, off to the side.

The other two chuckled, and then the commentary died down as they set about to ravaging her, the princess quickly succumbing to a fierce climax, her quim sending its feminine nectar out onto the leather-topped bench.

The rest of the night continued in the same manner, with the princess occupied constantly by cock and the occasional cunt. No respite was granted nor needed, as she simply wanted to bask in the abuse.

True to his word, Sir Hathwell returned, not once but twice. The first time, he took her asshole again, fucking her roughly from the start, no gentlemanly concern or compassion to be found now. The second time, he took a turn with her cunt, the entire time commenting to those who had stayed in the room about how loose, stretched-out, and sloppy it was, every thrust sending out thick splatters of spent seed that stuck to his cock and her thighs. His contribution to the mess was paltry, but she nevertheless appreciated it.

As the hours went by, the stream of visitors began to die down, until there was some time in between them, with the princess restlessly awaiting the next ones. Those periods of deprivation only made the ensuing debauchery that much better, the next person to set foot in the room greeted by a whorishly needy princess, eager to be defiled despite the formidable amount of semen already on or inside her. Eventually, one of her visitors had taken the sack off her, letting her aim her wide, pleading gaze at whoever came close enough.

Even when the exhaustion caught up to her, and her eyes drifted closed, every so often she would be roused by a shaft shoving through one of her holes, never annoyed or inconvenienced by the rude awakening but rather thankful for it.