In Love and War

All too soon came another knock at the door. Judging by the sound, it was Brent again.

"Fuck, has it been two hours?" Aiva wondered as she shook Kathryn awake and made her get dressed. The sorceress shrugged on a robe herself before giving permission to enter again. Brent walked with Bjorn in tow.

"Captain, corporal," Bjorn saluted. "I understand we are to talk about rescuing the prisoners?"

"What's this?" Kathryn asked, which caused Brent to explain the situation again.

"Alright, now that we've all heard the story, let's get to talking," Aiva said. "Who's for and who's against?"

"Fuck it, we're not being paid to win this war for them," Kathryn scoffed. "Let them fight their own damn battles for a start."

"Captain, we can't just ignore this," Bjorn pleaded. "I know it's not justifiable, but I really think we should do it."

"You're damn right it's not justifiable," the assassin snapped. "We're not here to give away services for free. If Feurst wants more, he'd better pay for it."

Bjorn looked like he might lost control of himself for a second, but he eventually managed to clamp his jaw shut and look down at the floor. It seemed as if something was bothering him beyond the idea of leaving helpless hostages in the hands of the enemy.

"I do agree that partaking of this mission without payment is a bad business decision," Brent chimed in, "However, I am in favor of our participation as I believe it the right thing to do for ethical reasons."

Despite what their opinions were, the final decision rested with Aiva. The sorceress frowned and weighed her options; on one hand, the company was generally not in favor of knight-errantry, but on the other, she did trust Brent's judgement and if he was for it, then that was something in its favor. How did she herself feel? Aiva had no particular investment in this war, nor would she be affected by its outcome.

A timid knock came from the door and Aiva looked past Bjorn's hulking frame to see Sophia standing there, with a lack of sleep evident in her tired eyes.

"Please... can I say something?" Sophia asked shyly. "Look, I... they took my sister in the fighting. Can't you do something?"

So that was what Bjorn was bothered about, Aiva concluded. Well, if she had been the one in bed with Rachel, she might have been tempted to rescue her as well.

"Got money?" Kathryn's brusque voice cut into Sophia like a saber.

"No..." The girl trembled, painfully aware of how poor she was. "But I'd do anything if it meant getting Rachel back. Anything. I'll even..."

Sophia blushed and could not continue the sentence. She walked up to Aiva and whispered the rest into the sorceress' ear, glowing like the setting sun by the end of it.

"Well, that's certainly a flattering offer," Aiva said after she heard it. "But, um, that won't be necessary. We'd be happy to have you enlist in the company, though."

"You mean it?" Sophia cried happily. "You'll go and rescue her? Oh thank you, thank you!"

Aiva found it hard to breath with Sophia's arms wrapped around her, but Kathryn eventually intervened and pried the girl off.

"You've got your deal, now fuck off," Kathryn spat, shoving Sophia out the door and locking it tightly.

"Really, that was unnecessary," protested Bjorn, earning himself a wrathful glare for his efforts.

"Out," the tiefling ordered.

"How?" the orc asked. "You've locked the door."

"Out!" Kathryn pointed at the window and Bjorn sighed, opening it and jumping to the ground. Brent soon followed suit, not wanting to be caught in the impending fight, leaving Aiva and Kathryn alone again.

"For fuck's sake, Ashley, think about what you're doing," Kathryn said, accidentally using Aiva's real name.

"Watch your damn tongue," Aiva hissed back.

"Sorry, but still, we're going to be flying blind here." Kathryn said. "It's a dangerous mission and I'd like to at least let know why we're doing it for nothing."

Aiva was silent for several minutes. "I never had a family."

Kathryn looked at her lover in surprise. This was the fist time Aiva had ever talked about her past.

"Ok, that's not technically true," Aiva clarified, mistaking Kathryn's expression for one of confusion. "Obviously, I had parents. That being said, a devil who specializes in seducing noblewomen and an aristocrat who considered me a liability at best make for pretty shitty parents. I grew up in a monastery to avoid embarrassing my mother. Very few people know we're related."

"So you had a crappy childhood; doesn't explain why you're taking on a charity case. Hell, I had it pretty rough growing up too, but you don't see me rescuing damsels in distress for free."

"I suppose it's not the best reason, but I do see something of myself in Sophia. Besides, she said she'd join, so we'll be getting something out of it. It'd be nice to get a spellcaster we could mould from the ground up instead of recruiting someone and having to work out all the bad habits they've picked up over the years."

Kathryn shook her head. "I'm sorry, I can't agree with that. Too much risk, not enough reward."

"I know," Aiva admitted. "I'm probably going to get us all reprimanded for it, but that's what we're doing. Can I count on you?"

"Aiva, I'd throw myself off of a cliff if you really wanted me to, but I don't expect I'd be happy about that either."

"That's so sweet and disturbing at the same time."

"Oh, you know me, I'm just a big softy deep down inside," Kathryn laughed, before turning serious again. "Say, as long as we're going to be tempting fate again... can I tell you something?"

Aiva leaned forward and listened attentively.

"Alright, I figure I should tell you why I used to hate you so much," Kathryn said. "Bjorn keeps telling me I should always settle my accounts since I might die at any moment."

"Wasn't it because I helped capture you when you were working as a pirate?" Aiva recalled. "Helped kill your captain too, didn't I?"

"It was more than that... do you know what I was doing on that crew?" Kathryn swallowed before continuing. "I was the captain's fuck toy. She caught me stowing away aboard her ship and gave me a whipping for it. Would have thrown me overboard and made me swim back to land if I'd just given in like a normal person, but I was arrogant and took everything she could dish out that day, which impressed her enough to keep me like some sort of pet. She healed my wounds and spent the better part of a month breaking me. She would whip me, starve me, drug me, chain me naked to the deck so the entire crew could see and use me... and she even made me like it. After a while, I stopped trying to escape because it was easier to just be a slave. No need to be strong, or brave, or powerful that way. No way to fail because I couldn't fall any lower."

Aiva squeezed the assassin's hand sympathetically. "And that's when we caught you?"

Kathryn shook her head. "No... you see... it gets worse. She lost me in a fight with some paladins, and they decided to let me go after realizing what I was. I was free for the first time in months and I made a living for myself again as an assassin. Things were going pretty well until one day the captain knocked on my door and walked into my house like she owned it. She demanded that I come back with her because she could use a good assassin. I drew a sword and pointed at her, swearing I'd never serve her again, but she simply batted it aside and became... insistent. And I... I just folded right then and there. Collapsed into a crying wreck before her. The bitch didn't even have to do anything to me other than ask, and I was helpless to resist her. She had her fingers wrapped around my mind so tight that I think only her death would have freed me."

"Then why'd you hate me for it?" Aiva asked, looking rather perplexed.

"Because, as much as I detested her... I also loved her," Kathryn admitted hesitantly. "She was so strong and powerful... when she made me worship her, I did so honestly because I truly respected her in some sick and twisted way. After she died, I blamed you for it and felt like I could never forgive you. Liliths' blood, it all sounds like some cheap romance novel, doesn't it?"

There was something blurring Aiva's face, and Kathryn realized that she had been crying as she told her story. She looked away so that Aiva would not have to see her face and wiped away the tears.

"But that's all in the past now," Kathryn said. "Your team was just doing it's job, and she was a bitch anyways. You make a better captain for me than she ever could."

Aiva drew close and put her arms around Kathryn's trembling body. "Well, now you're making me feel like such a jerk for eyeing Sophia. Don't suppose I could make it up to you later?"

"What do you have in mind?" Kathryn purred seductively.

"You decide," Aiva replied playfully. "I like surprises."

Chapter 4

Cold water washed over Rachel's body, which jolted her from her sleep. The comforting tavern she worked in was gone now, replaced by a dimly lit cell whose floors were smeared with blood. In front of her sat a fearsome looking orc with a leather mask on his head and a nasty looking whip in his hands. Rachel trembled in fear as she realized what had happened; she had been captured at some time during the fighting.

"Greetings, wench," the orc in front of her sneered. "I am Taskmaster Gurz, and you will answer my questions or suffer my... displeasure."

"I have nothing to say to you," Rachel replied with as much bravery and dignity as she could, sprawled on the ground in soaking wet clothes.

"I see they never bothered to break you in," the taskmaster noted, unfurling his whip. "Baern and his men might have been soft, but I assure you that is a flaw not shared by all of the Bloodmaw clan."

Gurz spoke with a sinister eloquence lacking in the other orcs Rachel had encountered so far. She shivered, and was sure that it was due to more than just the cold. The mindlessly violent orcs she knew were bad enough; what would happen when they had intelligence to direct their actions?

The whip sprang forward and slashed across Rachel's chest, cutting through her shirt and leaving a bright red mark on her breasts. A wild scream tore through the air as Rachel covered her aching chest and pressed her body against the ground so that Gurz could not attack there any more.

"That was just a taste of what you can expect for disobedience," Gurz snarled. "Now, let's see what I have here..."

A table stood in the corner of the cell, holding a dish with a metal cover on it. The taskmaster brought it over to Rachel and set it on the floor in front of her before lifting the lid. A fragrant aroma spilled out and Rachel saw that it contained several roasted pork ribs.

"I do apologize for forgetting my manners," Gurz smiled, picking up one of the ribs and gnawing on it. "Would you care for something to eat?"

Rachel looked at the meat suspiciously. While she was unsure of why the orc had offered her food - bribery, probably - she doubted very much if it was for the sake of manners or her own good.

"I ate before coming," Rachel replied, as her stomach betrayed her by growling loudly.

"I don't doubt that you did." Gurz laughed at the unintentional innuendo. "Speaking of which, that orc you bedded... who was he? I am interested in knowing what clan he hails from."

"We didn't talk much."

"I suppose he didn't tell you who he worked for either?" The orc picked up another rib and made short work of it.

"It never came up," Rachel stated defiantly.

"They never choose the easy way." Gurz sighed and finished off the ribs by himself. "Oh well, I suppose I'd be out of a job if you did."

The whip sang again and slowly, painfully, stripped away Rachel's clothing and dignity with each lash. Much like the pleasures of last night, this kind of pain was also a new experience for her. Gurz set her flesh ablaze with pain as he sought out whatever bits of information Rachel might possess, but in truth she knew very little and none of it was of tactical value.

Eventually, Gurz let her have a brief respite as he pondered his next move. The girl had no use as a source of information, but her young body would be just the thing to the boost morale of his twice defeated clan. The taskmaster snapped his fingers and called in a priest, who came in wheeling a cart full of sacred oils and ointments, along with the necessary implements for their application.

Rachel's eyes darted back and forth between her two captors as they spoke. The dialect they were using was not quite familiar to her, and she found that she could only understand snippets of information. Whatever they were planning, though, it seemed to involve her. The young girl flinched as the priest approached her, but the crack of the whip soon convinced her to stay still.

"Hurts, don't it?" The priest seemed rather amused at Rachel's discomfort. "Here, this'll help."

Too hurt and afraid to refuse, Rachel closed her eyes and let him spread a clear cream that smelled strongly of tree bark over her skin. The pain from Gurz's lashing soon stopped, and was slowly replaced by a pricking sensation on her skin, which gradually turned into fire. Rachel moaned as lust welled up between her thighs. It reminded her of what Bjorn aroused in her, but whereas their passion has been satisfying and almost romantic, this feeling was... corrupt, and dirty.

The priest chuckled again and turned the naked girl on her stomach, with her knees under her so that she was kneeling with her bottom up in the air. Rachel moaned as she felt something prodding against her rear entrance; her mind screamed at her to fight whatever the orcs were doing to her, but her body refused to listen and wiggled excitedly as if inviting the priest to continue with his work. The orc's body prevented Rachel from getting a good look at his actions, but whatever it was that he was forcing into her felt thin, flexible, and tubular. A hose, perhaps?

Coldness flooded Rachel's bowels, and the sane part of her mind concluded that it probably was some sort of hose. A shudder ran through her body, and as much as Rachel wanted to blame it on the frigid liquid spreading through her insides, she knew that excitement played as much a part in it as anything else. Tears trickled down her face as she wondered exactly what she had become; this was not right, none of it. No normal person became charged under these circumstances, and especially not from that hole.

The tube came out of her and Rachel clenched her sphincter with all her might, afraid to let even the smallest drop through. Both orcs laughed as the expression on her face, which grew more intense with each passing moment as her bowels demanded that she relieve the pressure. Cramps soon started to set in and Rachel's legs began kicking in frustration.

"Want to let it out, bitch?" Gurz asked maliciously, clearly enjoying the spectacle in front of him. Rachel cast her pride aside and nodded.

"Well, then I guess you'd better ask for it," the priest said. "Go on, beg."

"P-please..." Rachel whimpered, desperately searching for the right words. "I... I'm sorry... I'll be good, I promise..."

The orcs looked unimpressed and Rachel wondered exactly what they were looking for. How would she know what to say? She was just a working girl who had lived all her life in one town. A girl like herself knew no fancy words, but if she wanted to avoid losing control of herself in front of the orcs' cruel eyes, she would have to come up with something.

"My lords, I beg of you, please let your... your..." Rachel swallowed and comforted herself with the thought that this would all be temporary. She would eventually escape and be back home again, with her sister and their friends. All she had to do was to survive and endure.

"Please let your slut find release," Rachel cried. Talking about herself in the third person made it easier, as if it was not really her being humiliated. "Please show her mercy for behaving so badly! She knows she was wrong to have defied you!"

Finally satisfied with her debasement, the priest pulled a bucket off of his cart and placed it on the ground in front of him. Rachel crawled over and squatted over it; having to relieve herself in front of onlookers was beyond embarrassing, but it was better than the cell floor, and was probably the most she would get from her captors.

No sooner had Rachel relieved herself than she was bent over again and another tube inserted into her. This time the liquid was warm, with the same foul heat that the cream had. Lust took hold of Rachel and she sank to her knees, panting like a dog. This time a round object followed the enema and Rachel found herself plugged so that nothing could escape. A collar was fixed around her neck and the priest led her away with a leash.

Rachel instinctively crawled on all fours in the priest's wake as he took her out of the interrogation chamber and down a dark hallway. They proceeded slowly, as the fullness of Rachel's belly prevented her from moving at anything faster than a slow crawl. It was too dark to tell if anyone was watching the, but Rachel kept imagining unseen horrors in the shadows who would see the slut that she had become.

All of Rachel's fears became reality as the priest opened a heavy door at the end of the passage to reveal a large chamber, where at least a hundred orcs knelt before the statue of their terrible god. She shrieked with shame and tried to cover herself, but Gurz's ever present whip slashed across her behind, causing her to collapse on the floor.

"Men!" Gurz bellowed. "We have tasted bitter defeat this day, but by the god that made us, I swear to you now that our vengeance against the humans will be both complete and terrible. Tomorrow we will set out to repel the invaders, but for now let us plunder this human wench!"

A kick hard enough to send Rachel sliding forward several feet landed on her sore bottom, drawing a burst of applause from the audience. The taskmaster moved to take Rachel in front of his men, but the priest stopped him.

"Now now, Gurz," the other orc reprimanded, "Leadership might be your department, but we are in the presence of the Warbringer himself now, and this is my domain. I say it would be only proper that the first of us to taste this morsel be our god himself."

"Right you are!" Gurz laughed. "To the alter with her!"

Two grunts lifted Rachel by her arms and carried her to their blasphemous alter. The brief outburst of resistance Rachel had shown earlier had faded due to the drugs, replaced by a mellow compliance as she was laid atop the cold stone surface. A bowl full of golden oil was poured over her chest and stomach, rendering them hypersensitive to touch. Some of it leaked down to Rachel's flower, nearly driving her mad as the slightest touch felt like it would send her over the edge. A heavy incense was lit and its heady vapors clouded Rachel's mind even further.

A dull, monotonous chant filled the room as all the orcs knelt in supplication to the fearsome idol behind the alter. Rachel stared up at the harsh face of the orcish deity above her, and to her surprise, it looked back. The statue's hands went under her arms and held onto her breasts as they pulled Rachel onto her feet, holding her to its chest. Rachel was not too far lost in the sensation of the statue's hands mauling her chest to notice something nudging her thigh. She gasped when she saw a rock hard penis erect itself between her legs. Its cold, smooth surface brushed against her flower and its bud, causing Rachel to grind herself against it involuntarily. She shuddered in disgust at her body's betrayal, but could do nothing to stop it.

Every orc in the chamber had their eyes on Rachel as her body begged their living god to claim her. It raised the mortal offering off of the alter so that its member was in line with the woman's cunt and slowly brought her down upon it. A howl of pleasure rang out amidst the ensuing applause as Rachel found herself forced to spread her legs in order to accommodate the idol. The plug and liquid made her passage so much tighter for the monstrous length in her and she had no idea if it would ever fit without breaking something.