Orc Relations

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.

*****

Chapter 1

The forge roared with heat. The anvil screamed under the hammer. Fiery sparks flew in every direction, as red-hot steel was being shaped into a rugged blade.

"Pardon me!"

Helzan paused, her hammer suspended at the top of her swing. Frowning, she tore her eyes from her work and looked over.

The one who interrupted her was standing at the entrance to her smithy. It was a man, small of build and, by the looks of his fine clothing, not from around here. The man regarded her with an odd curiosity before speaking again: "Pardon my interruption, but I have found myself in need of your services."

Helzan put down the hammer, wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, and tossed her long, thick braid over her shoulder. Untying the soot-blackened apron, she hung it on a prong next to the anvil.

"What can Helzan do for you?" she grumbled, with a hint of annoyance.

"I was told you are the finest smith in this village and that I may acquire a few things from you," the man replied.

Helzan squinted at the man - she was the only smith in this village. Nevertheless, she replied, "Be my guest," while sweeping a muscular arm towards the back wall where an assortment of weaponry was displayed.

The man nodded and strolled over to examine the wares. "I've heard nothing but good things about Orc smiths," he said, turning his head this way and that. "Although, I've never heard of a female Orc smith before." He glanced, smiling, at her.

"Now you've seen one," Helzan grunted in return. There was something peculiar about this man, and it made her uneasy. Spreading her powerful legs wider apart, she straightened her broad shoulders. Absentmindedly, she caressed her oily braid, her eyes following the stranger, while he walked down the length of her smithy nodding in approval.

"Very fine weapons," he murmured. "Very fine indeed. Such admirable daggers and stalwart swords." Little by little, he made his way through the smithy inspecting swords, daggers, axes, mauls, and other assortment of steel and iron wares. Eventually, he came to stand before Helzan. She was almost a whole head taller than him, wide of shoulders and hips, her mighty arms and legs rippled with muscle.

"Going to buy something?" asked Helzan, putting her hands on her hips and glowering down at him, unwilling to waste time on yet another gawker.

Nodding, the man threw another glance over at the weapons. Getting out his coin pouch, he said: "If the price is rather agreeable, I'll be sure to spread the good word about you."

Helzan's full, pouty lips curled into a smirk - finally, a paying customer. "Where you headed?" she asked, trying to sound friendly.

"To the capital," the small man replied. "It's a long journey and there's word of bandits on the way." He paused, then glanced up at Helzan. "Orc bandits, they say."

"So they say," agreed Helzan.

"You wouldn't happen to have any advice for a passing traveler?"

"Aye," Helzan grinned. "Travel well armed."

The man smirked back. "That is exactly what I intend on doing - armed with some of this fine steel." He picked up one of the daggers and twirled it in his palm. "Just look at it... the curves of this hilt..." he said, lowering his voice to a whisper, "... truly reflect the curves of its maker..." He glanced at her peculiarly.

Frowning, Helzan felt a sudden shiver pass along her spine.

The man continued, glancing from dagger to its maker: "Such unique and marvelous work..." he murmured. "Can only be done by an appropriately... gifted... artisan."

Helzan's eyebrows furrowed further. She didn't know what to make of this stranger's sudden tone. She was not in the least bit accustomed to praise and flattery. She saw the man's eyes trace her body from her legs, past her hips, to her exposed stomach below the short, leather tunic, and finally settle on her breasts. She suddenly felt like her tunic was much too small and much too tight. In fact, it was, but it has never bothered her before. There was something about this man's intensive gaze that made her feel suddenly self-conscious. She, of course, knew that her breasts were large, even by Orcish standards. Numerous times she has caught men ogling at her cleavage before realizing that she was an Orc. It never bothered her before, but this man made her uncomfortably aware of the flesh bulging out of her short tunic.

"Going to buy something?" Helzan asked again, breaking the drawn-out silence.

The man glanced up from the large, green bulges restrained by the tattered leather and flashed a playful smile. "I'm entirely impartial to these two daggers and that sword. If the price is as enchanting as the maker, then I'll be glad to take them off your hands."

Helzan swallowed and shifted from foot to foot. "The sword is ten silvers. The daggers are seven a piece." She tried to avoid his gaze.

"That is almost as tempting as the bargaining queen before me," purred the man. "I'm sure the smithing mistress can offer a more affordable price to a traveler in need."

"Twenty silver for all three," Helzan blurted out abruptly, without thinking.

"Oh my, that's quite an offer," the man whispered. "But I'm sure we can come to a better price. Did I say what beautiful physique the lady of this establishment possesses? Did I mention that her silky black hair reminds of a beautiful obsidian river? Her smooth, delightfully green skin, is like..."

"That's enough!" Helzan grunted. She was suddenly aware of the influence his words were having on her mind. This man was using magic or some other power. She has felt it once before, and she wasn't going to fall for that trick again. She let out a low growl, baring her sharp, curved teeth. "Twenty silvers. Pay up or get out!"

The man spread his arms. "Your wish is my command." He counted off twenty silver coins and handed them to Helzan. "I thank you kindly for the generous bargain, my lady." Before stepping out, he turned and fixed Helzan with a provocative look. "Say, is smithing the only kind of services you offer?"

"Out!" roared Helzan.

The man hurried out, chuckling.

A door creaked behind her.

"Who was that, mother?"

"A customer," Helzan replied, tucking the coins into the back pocket of her tight leather pants. "Did you finish oiling the blades?"

"As you instructed, mother."

"Good. I'm done for the night. I could use a hand cleaning up in here."

"Of course. I'll put out the forge."

Rubbing her tired arms, Helzan watched her son, Rago. He's been a great help around the house and the smithy. He has seen eighteen winters now and has reached maturity, but still hasn't filled out. At this age, he should be taller than her and twice as wide of frame, with hulking muscles. Instead, he was a few fingers shorter, lean of body, and timid of character. Perhaps she was to blame - sheltering him from the world and raising him in this remote village. Nevertheless, he was her only child, and she couldn't help being protective of him. One day, she hoped, he would become the master of this smithy.

"Rago," Helzan said, thoughtfully petting her braid. "I'm taking a load of weapons into town tomorrow. It's about time you came along. You're learning the trade well, and I want you to meet the shopkeepers who buy my wares."

"Really?" Rago looked up, hopeful. "I would be rather glad to accompany you, mother."

Helzan nodded. "We head out early. Get some sleep after you finish up in here."

Chapter 2

They woke while it was still dark, readied the horse, and loaded the cart. It was a half day's slow ride, and Helzan wanted to get an early start.

"You'll ride in the back," Helzan instructed. "Don't let the blades rattle too much."

They spent most of the journey in silence, listening to the creak of the wheels and watching the change of scenery - from rocky mountains to green flatland. Eventually, the town loomed ahead. Approaching the main gate, they saw three town guards lazily keeping watch. Upon noticing their cart, one of the guards, who wore a leader's insignia, broke off from the group and approached them.

"What's your business?" asked the guard leader - a stocky, scruffy man.

"A smith," replied Helzan. "Taking weapons to the shops."

The guard looked from Helzan to the cart behind her, then back to her. "Let's see!" he announced. He walked up to the cart and tapped his spear on it. Rago pulled off the heavy cloth and opened up the crates. Frowning, the guard glanced at the weapons. "Orc steel," he spat.

"Aye," said Helzan. "I'm an Orc."

"Who buys this shit?" muttered the guard, walking off and waving them through. "Pass along."

When the leader rejoined the other two guards, one of them, a big fellow, asked: "Did you get a good look at them tits?"

"That's an Orc!" the leader grunted, looking up at his big comrade. "Are you an Orc fucker now, Ed?"

"I ain't no Orc fucker," the big guard replied. "It's just that... tits are tits. And she got some big 'uns."

"Big Ed's got a point there," said the third guard, smallest of the three. "Come to think of it, I've never seen a pair of Orc tits before. You reckon they look the same?"

The scruffy guard turned his head to watch Helzan's cart disappear down the street. "I wager they look like cow udders, judging by the size of them things," he mused. "Well shit, boys! Now you've got me curious. Tell the others to take over at the gate. I've got an idea."

The merchants were already out in the Marketplace Square, haggling with customers over the prices of their goods. Helzan stopped the cart next to a stone building with a wooden sign. She never could understand the writing on the sign, but she imagined it said "Weapons".

"Wait here," she told Rago. "I'll go inside and have a few words with the merchant."

"Hold right there!" came a sudden shout from behind them.

Helzan whirled around to see the same three town guards approaching them. "What's the meaning of this?" she growled.

"You two," barked the scruffy guard leader from the gate, "are to come with us for questioning!"

The two other guards flanked him on each side.

"On what grounds?" demanded Helzan.

"Those weapons," the guard indicated with a finger, "are the same weapons the Orc bandits use. We have orders to interrogate you."

"I don't..." Helzan began.

"Silence!" the guard shouted. "Take them in!"

The two other guards lowered their spears. Helzan's muscles tensed, her anger flashed. She could snatch one of the swords from the cart and try to overpower the two spearmen. That might surprise the third one enough to buy her time. It was risky, but it could work. Then she turned and saw her son, looking anxious and confused. The fight went right out of her. What if one of the guards went for him while she fought the others? She wouldn't dare risk his life like that. Furthermore, she had nothing to hide. She has often sold weapons here. The merchants knew her. She was certain they'd be released in no time. She stood still, brooding, while the guards tied their hands and led them away.

They were taken to the town's jail and led down into the cold dungeon. A row of torches illuminated the grey, stone walls as they walked down a long corridor. At the very end of it, the leader of the guards entered a cell, lighting a few torches. The others followed him in. The guards unbound Helzan then chained her hands and feet to the wall - arms over her head, legs spread apart. Next to her, Rago was chained in the same manner.

Helzan looked over at her son. He had been silent this whole time and she was getting more concerned for him. Scowling, she turned her head and glared at the guards.

"Allow me to properly introduce ourselves," said the scruffy leader of the guards. "My name is Stigg. This here is Big Ed, and that's Jarem."

Helzan let out a low growl. "Get on with your questioning."

The leader, Stigg, shook his head. "Such manners... Oh, very well! Let's get to it." He hooked both thumbs into his belt and looked Helzan up and down before asking: "What do you know about the Orc bandits that have been raiding these lands?"

"Nothing," replied Helzan.

"They use weapons like the ones I saw in your cart," Stigg added.

Helzan shrugged. "Orcs use Orcish weapons."

"How do we know you're not supplying them?"

"I'm not."

"And we are to simply take your word for it?" Stigg turned to his comrades. "Eh, boys? Do you believe this one?"

"I think she ain't telling us something," said the big guard, Ed.

Stigg turned back. "As do I." He looked over at Rago. "Who do we have here?"

"My son," growled Helzan, with a hint of threat. "Leave him out of it."

"Oh, would you look at that, boys? We got ourselves a bitch and her pup! Perhaps, the little whelp will talk."

"No!" growled Helzan. "He doesn't know anything. He's just helping me."

"Oh, now it sounds like there is something to know!"

"I told you," said Helzan, trying to stay calm. "I know nothing about Orc bandits."

Stigg scratched his stubble. "We're not getting anywhere like this. What do you think, Big Ed?"

The big guard stepped forward. He was quite large for a man, almost the size of a full-grown Orc male. "I bet she'd speak if we made her a bit more comfortable," he rumbled.

"Good idea," nodded Stigg. "Would you do the honors?"

Before Helzan could realize what they were speaking of, the big guard's dagger flashed before her and she felt her leather tunic give way. Her tightly confined, substantial breasts burst out of it. They were so full and massive that they spread apart on her chest, her thick, dark nipples pointing in opposite directions. Deep green, like the rest of her skin, and slightly elongated, her astounding breasts resembled big, oblong watermelons as they hung down to her muscular stomach.

"No!" Helzan howled, straining against her bonds. Her impressive bosom bounced freely, liberated from its confines. She groaned and pulled, but the chains held her still.

"Don't touch my mother!" Rago yelled, attempting to break his bonds as well. "Don't lay a finger on her!"

Big Ed turned to Rago and buried a heavy fist in his stomach. Rago groaned as the air rushed out of his lungs, his body going limp.

"Don't hurt him!" Helzan yelped, giving up her fight against the chains. She sucked in a ragged breath and looked anxiously at her son.

"If you play along, nobody will get hurt," said Stigg casually. "Tell us what we want and no harm will come to either of you." He smiled as his eyes trailed down to the large, green tits before him. "I guess I was wrong," he added, glancing over at the small guard, Jarem. "They don't look like cow udders, though they might be just as big."

Helzan was caught off guard - her tunic in tatters, breasts out, was not something she could have anticipated. She glanced over at Rago again. He hung from the chains, his head slumped, after the blow that was dealt him. At least, it spared her the shame of him seeing her like this.

Helzan straightened herself and glared at the guards. "You scum!" she spat. "Let us go! Or I will tear out your hearts and feed them to the dogs!"

Stigg ignored her. "Do you know where the Orc bandits are hiding?" he asked again.

"No!" exclaimed Helzan in frustration. "I've already told you. I don't know anything."

"Stubborn Orc," sighed Stigg. He walked over to Rago and lifted his chin up.

"Don't touch him!" snarled Helzan. She noticed that Rago's eyes were barely open.

Abruptly, Stigg gave Rago a sharp slap on the cheek. Rago's eyes flew open, frantically darting from side to side.

"Don't look over!" Helzan screamed.

In confusion, Rago looked directly at her. His eyes grew round, his body tensed, as his awareness returned. He tried to look away, but Stigg caught his chin and forced him to look at Helzan.

"Go ahead, pup," said Stigg. "Take a good look at your ma's giant tits. Aren't they quite a sight?"

"Rago, don't look!" exclaimed Helzan again.

Rago tried to turn his head, but Stigg held him still.

"What do you say, pup?" chuckled Stigg.

"Stop this!" Helzan protested.

"Are you ready to talk yet? Or do you want your pup to keep looking at your tits?"

"I told you already..." began Helzan.

"You see, boys," Stigg cut her off, letting go of Rago, "you just can't reason with these Orcs."

"Maybe we get those pants off of her," suggested Big Ed. "Maybe then she talks."

"You reckon she got a cunt under those?" asked Jarem, leaning against the far wall.

"I'll wager, with that attitude, she must have a cock," jeered Stigg, then gestured to Big Ed.

Helzan was so dumbstruck that she didn't have time to react. With surprising skill, the big man stepped up and slashed delicately at her leather pants. Like bark off a tree, the leather peeled away, falling at her feet.

Stigg whistled. "Well, would you look at that? I guess it's true what they say - Orcs are mostly hairless."

Speechless, Helzan felt the cold, damp air of the dungeon cell wash over the bare skin of her nether regions. She felt a sudden rush of blood to her face, but it wasn't in anger. It was something that Helzan couldn't quite place. Something she supposed one felt when they got put on a spot. She was aware of the guards peering right between her legs, where her bare privy mounds formed a shapely cunt. Additionally, she was aware of her son, chained next to her, as she wore only the taters of her tunic.

"No cock," laughed Jarem. "I win that wager."

"Just a hairless cunt," agreed Stigg.

"Smooth as a baby," muttered Big Ed.

"What do you say, Ed?" asked Stigg, squinting at his comrade. "Want to try it out?"

The big man looked at his comrade with uncertainty. Reluctantly, he shook his head. "I ain't no Orc fucker."

"None of us are, Ed," said Stigg.

"We got the pup," offered Jarem.

Stigg smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Indeed we do. You think Orcs fuck the same as us?"

"I bet they fuck like dogs," boomed Ed.

"Nothing wrong with that, my big pal," chuckled Stigg. He looked at Helzan again. "Got anything to tell us about the bandits?"

Helzan was too shocked by her predicament, to muster the words to reply.

"I didn't think so," said Stiggs, turning to Big Ed. "Shall we continue?"

"Aye!" declared Big Ed. "I always wondered what Orc cock looked like."

"I heard they are hung like horses," chimed in Jarem.

"We're about to find out," huffed Big Ed, flashing his dagger at Rago.

"No!" screamed out Helzan. "Don't you dare..." Her words caught in her throat as she looked at Rago. Big Ed had swiftly sliced away at her son's cotton breeches and they fell down to his ankles. Helzan's eyes flashed as she was suddenly presented with the sight of her son's manhood. Soft and slender, it dangled half-way down his thigh. Green and uncut, it looked like a big cucumber. Hurriedly, she turned her head the other way.

"Well, shit!" exclaimed Big Ed, stumbling backwards from Rago. "You were right, Jarem. He's quite hung!"

"No wonder they rape and pillage everything in sight," laughed Stigg. "I would too if I had a thing like that between my legs. Tell me pup, have you gotten to use it yet?"

Rago gazed solemnly down at the floor.

"Let him be!" Helzan barked, finally gathering her composure.

"Aren't you a tough one? Chained next to your pup, both of you buck naked." Stigg continued laughing. "Tell me, did his father have a big cock too? Is that how he managed to get between your legs?"

"How dare you!" screamed Helzan, straining against her bonds, but only managing to send her heavy breasts bouncing about.

Stigg smirked. "I saw the look in your eyes when you caught a glimpse of his cock. Maybe the pup is bigger than his daddy!"

"Why don't she try it out," suggested Jarem. "See if she made something that she can't handle."