Murkuk Ch. 01

She fingered herself idly and glanced around, watching the other pets rapidly pack up their masters' belongings; in a just few minutes they would be ready to depart. Nearby, Master Gurgun was discussing something with another orc, named Volgus. Murkuk could hear their grunts and snarls, but could not make out any of the conversation.

But they were discussing her, it seemed. Master Gurgun pointed in her direction several times, as did Master Volgus. Murkuk's intestines were suddenly gripped with dread. Had she done something wrong? Would she be beaten? She had suffered only one beating in the last three months, early in her captivity when she had inadvertently collided with one of the orcs while rushing to obey a command given by Master Gurgun. The beating had lasted less than a minute and had left no lasting injury, but her body had never before absorbed such punishment. Her nose had been broken and she had swallowed two molars, and her eyes were swollen nearly shut for two days. She never wanted to endure another beating as long as she lived!

Master Gurgun and Master Vulgus both gestured forcefully at her, indicating that she was to come to them; their fierce expressions seemed full of malice, threatening violence. Murkuk lurched to her feet with a mounting sense of terror and stumbled to her Master. She dropped to her knees before him, her face pressed against one of his clawed feet, whimpering and trembling helplessly.

The orcs were laughing at her -- a horrible gobbling, slobbering, snorting sound. They were obviously stimulated by her groveling degradation, and she well knew that an aroused orc could be as dangerous as a feral animal. Even Master Gurgun, though notably lenient and indulgent for an orc, frequently enjoyed inflicting pain and hardship on her, whether fucking her in the ass or whipping her with his quirt on the march. She, in turn, savored the suffering he imposed on her, and took immense joy in the pleasure her Master derived from her distress. But if he were ever to lose control of himself, she feared she might very well be killed by one of his violent passions. Murkuk had seen more than one pet killed by an impassioned orc.

"Slave up!" demanded Master Volgus. When she had obeyed, he hooked one of his huge clawed fingers through her left breast ring. He turned and started to walk away, yanking at the ring. With a gasp of pain Murkuk followed, casting an anguished look at Master Gurgun. Was he finished with her? Was he giving her away?

Master Gurgun was laughing again, evidently amused by her dismay. He struck her across one firm buttock as she was led past him, a savage playful blow. She cried out, cringing at the sharp sting; but then, reassured by her Master's sportive manner, she grinned tentatively through her tears. He could not be giving her away, not if he were in such high spirits. Perhaps Master Volgus merely wished to use her briefly before the march began. That would not be too unusual -- she had pleasured half the orcs in the camp at one time or another.

She followed Master Volgus, struggling to match his impossibly long strides and ease the enormous strain he was putting on her breast. When he finally halted on the other side of the camp, she knew at last what was expected of her, and her stomach sank. Master Volgus had led her to the four-wheeled wooden cart on which the orcs carried their loot. Every day a pet was harnessed to the cart and forced to pull it during the arduous march. Murkuk had so far managed to avoid that torment, often through the collusion of her Master, who would deliberately pleasure himself with her while the other orcs were deciding which pet to harness. But now Master Gurgun seemed willing, even eager, to see her hauling the cart. Admittedly, Murkuk herself found that the sight of a pet toiling in anguish for hours on end was enormously stimulating. She liked marching near the cart so she could watch surreptitiously, and by the end of the day her body would be thrumming with arousal.

Master Volgus immediately began strapping the harness to her, pulling the buckles painfully tight about her hips, chest and shoulders. Murkuk bit her lip to strangle her sobs, and tasted blood. Volgus took her arms and bound them in a tendon-straining position behind her back, her elbows lashed together and her thumbs fastened with a thong to the back of her leather collar. Master Volgus surveyed his handiwork.

"Slave pain?" he grunted.

Murkuk nodded vigorously, whimpering, her face deeply creased with misery. She writhed in the straps to test their constraint, but they remained cruelly secured. Master Volgus observed her tormented contortions with obvious satisfaction, grunting softly. His organ was distending rapidly, and Murkuk felt a rising heat in her own loins. She squirmed more vigorously, her excitement fueled by Master Volgus's increasing stimulation.

She moaned hopefully, her eyes fixed on the Master's massive cock; it was still pulsing upward, lengthening and thickening, swelling with blood. Murkuk felt her heart in her throat, hammering against the constriction of her tight leather collar. Her ravaged cunt, still sore from its rigorous use earlier that morning, was nevertheless already drooling at the prospect of submitting to another savage fucking.

She had never yet pleasured Master Volgus, but she had watched assiduously when he used other pets. He was one of the most brutal of the orcs, his ferocity and prurience inextricably conjoined. He owned two girls, Urgurr and Fugkuk, and took great pride in their tremulous apprehension, which he instilled in them through regular rigorous thrashings. The two cunts did absolutely nothing without their Master's command, and obeyed him without question or delay, but they were nevertheless bloodied daily by him.

The thought of enduring a taste of that cruel mistreatment excited Murkuk beyond measure. She whined needfully, edging closer to the huge orc, still staring at his cock. She shook her pendulous breasts, causing them to sway enticingly for him. She could hear orcs in the camp bellowing commands to their pets, making ready to leave. There was very little time left! She took another mincing step toward the Master, guided it seemed by her ravenous cunt, so eager to cram itself full of that monstrous cock.

Master Volgus spoke, his words slurred with harsh laughter. Murkuk could not fully comprehend his meaning, though she understood the words for "cunt" and "fuck," as well as "fist" and "face."

"Please fuck Murkuk, Master!" she cried plaintively, her body shuddering with desire. "Please fuck Murkuk, Master!"

Master Volgus suddenly gripped her by the hair, yanking her head to the side. She gasped with alarm and turned in the direction he was pulling her. The Master positioned her in front of the cart and fixed her in the traces.

"Cunt pull hard," he admonished, brandishing his fist. "Or much pain!"

Without warning Master Volgus punched Murkuk in the mouth, little more than a half-hearted jab. The blow struck her like a brick, however, and she dropped to her knees. For several seconds she knelt dazed, held upright only be the harness. The lower half of her face was numb, but she could taste blood in her mouth and felt it trickling over her chin.

"Cunt up," commanded Master Volgus, almost laconically. "Pull now!"

He clapped his hands sharply together and Murkuk recoiled, crying out in fear of another blow from the Master. Seeing that he had already turned away, she leapt to her feet and immediately threw herself forward against the traces. Her legs were unsteady, her head swimming with stars; the cart did not budge.

Murkuk breathed deeply and strained forward again, a strangled sob escaping her throat; the cart responded with a loud creak of dissent. Murkuk advanced one arduous step, then another, her face contorted, and the cart followed grudgingly. Murkuk clenched her jaw, and realized then that both of her upper teeth were loose. But she ignored the distraction and trudged forward, groaning with exertion. The orcs were on the move all around her, striding past with their pets following behind. She knew many of those pets were watching her as she struggled, aroused at the sight of her and thankful it was not their turn in the harness. The thought excited and invigorated her.

She toiled on, laboriously accelerating to avoid being left behind; if she fell too far back Master Volgus would simply replace her with another cunt -- and then more than likely slaughter Murkuk on the spot. That frightful thought added impetus to her stride, and she soon settled into a steady gait.

Murkuk hauled the heavy cart through the rising heat of morning, for hour upon interminable hour. Her arms, bound so unnaturally behind her back, began to trouble her first. They ached awhile, and then cramped painfully. Soon after, the muscles of her thighs began to tighten. The pressure in her thighs gradually intensified, until the muscles were racked with searing pains. She sobbed and groaned piteously, but willed herself forward.

Her cries apparently reached Master Volgus's ears, for he was soon striding alongside her, leering down at her.

"Cunt move!" he growled angrily, raising his huge quirt. He struck her churning buttocks, and the sharp CRACK resounded in Murkuk's ears. With a breathless squeal she fought to pick up her pace, grinding her teeth together as Master Volgus whipped her ass again. Her jaw throbbed with a sudden brilliant pain as both of her loose teeth were torn almost free; she let this fresh agony overwhelm the duller complaints of her arms and legs. Plodding resolutely on, she wrenched the two teeth forward and back with her tongue.

One tooth came free in Murkuk's mouth, and then the other. She spat them both out wearily, along with a stream of bloody saliva. Master Volgus seemed to take this as a satisfactory signal, and after putting one last welt across her backside with his quirt he moved on. Murkuk, panting heavily, trudged after.

The road they were traveling was narrow and uneven, winding through the lightly wooded countryside. It had been poorly maintained since the first incursions of the orcs a decade ago, and was now little more than an overgrown hunting trail. Murkuk's face and shoulders were periodically whipped by the long supple branches of bushes and trees growing alongside the path; rivulets of blood trickled down her cheeks and arms. She could hear only the sounds of her own deeply labored breathing, the steady rhythmic creak of the cart, and the irregular spattering of the perspiration which rained from her body onto the ground.

The harness straps, tightened so brutally across her body, chaffed against her sweat dampened skin. Her hips and shoulders, bearing most of the weight of the heavy cart, began to ache ferociously. The pain was deep in her joints, as if the enormous strain might slowly pull her limbs from their sockets. Nevertheless she trudged on, sobbing as the pain became less and less bearable.

Murkuk was not even aware of having halted during the midday rest break; she was conscious only of a sudden flurry of vicious blows to her buttocks as Master Volgus whipped her awake. She must have collapsed the moment the halt was called, and remained unconscious even as the meager ration of water and stale black bread was distributed to the cunts.

She lurched to her feet, squealing incoherently, her head spinning with nausea. Master Volgus was bellowing at her, punctuating the merciless blows of his quirt with threats and insults she only half-comprehended. She retched violently, her knotted belly disgorging what remained of her breakfast of Master Gurgun's sperm.

"Yeth mathter!" she screamed, delirious, gagging on the half-digested orc semen which dangled in strands from her lips.

Master Volgus whipped her to a trot, then finally desisted. He bared his fangs threateningly at her for good measure, then moved on ahead, leaving Murkuk to plod resolutely forward. Her mind was numb, her body operating instinctively, without her volition. She gazed unseeing at the ground beneath her, planting her feet one after the other down that interminable little trail.

Her senses were diminishing rapidly, mercifully -- she was dimly aware of the harness straps digging into her hips and shoulders, and of the aching muscles in her thighs and back; she heard only a dull roaring in her ears, and the strained thudding of her over-taxed heart; she saw only the ground rushing by beneath her, and her tear-blurred legs churning endlessly. She was wheezing, fighting to breathe past the leather collar fastened tightly around her thirst-swollen throat.

Murkuk lost consciousness again, blissfully releasing herself from the toil her body was enduring. She felt nothing, saw nothing, heard nothing. She would be butchered, of course, for failing to keep up on the march, but that thought only brought a sense of euphoria to her mind. Death would mean peace, and rest. Forever.

She waited in darkness, resigned to her fate.

With a sharp gasp Murkuk awoke, and jerked her head up. She was still in darkness, but it was not complete. Dusk had settled, and she was still on the trail. She could feel nothing, but she sensed the harness straps still on her body. She heard the creak of the cart behind her.

She blinked, amazed. Her body had carried on throughout the day, even after she had given up. She watched her legs driving forward step by step, though she could not feel them. How long could she go on? How long before she simply dropped dead from exhaustion?

The answer seemed to come even before she had finished the thought. The cart grew suddenly heavier, and she slowed rapidly. Within a few strides she had come to a halt, though her body strove to press on. She heard a sharp grunting, and only after several seconds did she realize the sound was coming from her own throat as she strained mightily against the straps. She heard more grunting, louder and deeper, and very faintly the sound of a leather whip cracking against flesh.

She felt a dull burning, which alerted her that the flesh being whipped was her own. With a sob of dismay she flung herself forward in the harness and succeeded in dragging the heavy cart for another stride; but when it halted again she did not have the strength for another effort.

The whipping stopped. Murkuk sank to her knees, head bowed. She felt powerful clawed hands remove her limp body from the harness, depositing her unceremoniously to the side. She expected at any moment to have her neck broken by Master Volgus, or to feel his sharp cold blade open her belly or her throat.

Instead she heard her own Master Gurgun grunt, "Slave pull good. Very good."

She opened her eyes and grinned dazedly up at her owner as he grasped a handful of her hair and dragged her fifty yards to the little lean-to he had already set up. When he released her she lay all but immobile, her limbs still numb. She felt a faint tremor in her thighs, and looking down saw the bulging muscles spasming furiously. She grimaced, though she scarcely felt the pain.

Master Gurgun had removed his skirt of human heads, revealing his huge semi-erect cock pulsing with arousal. He squatted beside Murkuk, so that his bulbous glans pressed into her ribs. Murkuk, despite her bone-deep exhaustion, felt her own loins respond immediately to this contact. She whimpered meekly, too weak even to offer her eager holes to her Master.

Master Gurgun shifted his hips, rubbing his massive cockhead hard against Murkuk's belly. He uttered a long, lingering uructation, gripping one of Murkuk's heavy breasts in his scabrous hand and squeezing it savagely. Murkuk cried out, arching her back, the tender flesh of her breast bulging between the orc's clawed fingers. Her Master's other hand was groping between her thighs, his rough palm abrading her shaven pubis, his claws seeking the huge iron ring through her vulva. Grabbing the ring, he pulled and twisted it, distending and distorting her swollen labia.

Murkuk writhed and groaned, clenching her jaws and her fists. Her lips parted in a rictus of agony, baring the gaping hole where her upper front teeth had been. Master Gurgun, seeing the disfigurement, twisted her vulval ring even more sharply and hissed with pleasure. Murkuk sobbed, lurching toward her owner.

"Fuck Murkuk, Mathter!" she cried, the loss of her front teeth causing her to lisp just as Lubgush had. Her fingers raked deep furrows in the soft earth. "Pleathe, Mathter!"

Gurgun immediately took her by the ankles and roughly parted her trembling legs. Murkuk gasped breathlessly, desperate to be filled. Her Master's cock descended toward her, a gleaming strand of smegma already dangling from the gigantic glans. Her labia stretched enormously as he penetrated her, and she watched with mingled fascination and ecstacy as the huge shaft slowly, steadily disappeared into her body. Murkuk cringed and shuddered as her Master sank deeper inside her lubricious hole, until she thought her pelvis might split in two. She threw back her head and uttered a groan of feral intensity, pounding her fists helplessly against the ground.

Master Gurgun, still holding her by the ankles, shoved her knees against her chest to improve his leverage and adjusted his angle of penetration. With his next thrust he embedded himself entirely inside her, his belly striking the backs of her thighs with a sound which echoed through the camp. Murkuk thrashed her head, sobbing ceaselessly, crying out with joy and desire. Her Master's thrusts intensified, his breaths coming in rhythmic grunts. Murkuk's body very quickly climaxed, though she was so numb with exhaustion that she was scarcely aware of it -- She felt only a muted flare of heat and pleasure in her loins and a sudden shuddering of her body.

As the warmth of her orgasm suffused her limbs, she felt Master Gurgun abruptly reposition her body once more, shoving her knees into her armpits so that her pelvis was lifted higher. Murkuk grimaced and whimpered with anxiety, realizing what Master Gurgun intended to do with her. His cock, dripping with her juices, was bobbing just above the tiny puckered entrance to her bowels. She glanced up at her Master's face, her brow creased with dread, and Gurgun snorted sharply in pleasure. His cock descended, the broad head pressing lightly against her sphincter. Murkuk squeezed her eyes shut, whimpering softly; warm tears flowed down the sides of her face as she waited.

Master Gurgun's glans opened her forcefully, plunging through her vastly distended anus and filling her rectum. Murkuk groaned, her body lurching weakly against her Master's bulk as he crammed himself far down her backside. His engorged glans plunged into her colon and she sobbed piteously at the sharp throbbing pain of his intrusion. His enormous testicles slapped weightily against her buttocks.

Then Master Gurgun withdrew for a moment, and Murkuk snatched a hurried, quavering breath, anticipating the next agonizing penetration. She ground her teeth as he filled her again, the enormous shaft sinking even deeper into her body, its swollen head driven past her spasming colon. She squealed, her bowed spine shuddering.

Her Master's next stroke encountered less resistance from her bowels, and soon he was thrusting steadily into her. Murkuk's body gradually responded to the abuse, and her loins began to squirm with mounting pleasure. Master Gurgun was holding her knees pinned against her shoulders, her calves pressed to either side of her face; he plundered her bowels mercilessly, cramming himself almost to the matted hairs of his pubis with every thrust. He had never fucked her hole so deeply. She sobbed, attempting to cry out in pleasure to her Master, but no sound escaped her lips. She tasted bile at the back of her throat and gulped it down with a gasp of delight.