tagSci-Fi & FantasyQueen Yavara Ch. 13

Queen Yavara Ch. 13


Part Five: Setting the Dominoes

Chapter Thirteen


"Spin around, Opal, show Sherok your new tat." I said to my favorite slave as the tattooist finished his work.

"Master's Little Anal Slut, that's classy Elena." Sherok laughed as Opal shimmied her hips, the fresh ink contrasting her pale backside.

"Well, Opal's such a classy little girl, aren't you?" I grinned, filling my hand with her supple ass. Opal's tail curled upward in arousal, exposing her holes. "Not now, Opal." I said, running a finger down her taint, "You, your mother and your sisters need to get dressed. We have a big day in store for us." I gave her a parting spank, and watched her go with a fresh handprint on her ass. Opal sauntered away to show her new ink to her jealous sisters and mother. I received many pouting faces from my slaves, all of them aware of my preference. Maybe they'd try even harder to please me next time.

"Your turn, Ranger." The tattooist grunted as he watched my naked slaves bathe in the stream.

"What's that?" I asked, confused.

"Brock made you an honorary member of the Terdini tribe this morning." Sherok said.


"And it is custom for a warrior to get a tattoo after their first kill. Brock said you felled two enemies in Ardeni."

I shook my head. "Two rangers, Sherok. I'm already carrying the guilt; I don't need it etched onto my skin."

"Careful, Elena." Sherok said, crouching next to me, "Brock and Zander trust you, and that's enough for me. You brought them," she gestured to my six slaves, "and that's enough for most everyone else. But us orcs are a suspicious breed, and if trust erodes, it is hard to rebuild."

"I won't celebrate killing my own countrymen."

Sherok grabbed my wrist and squeezed. "They are not your countrymen anymore; we are!" She said fiercely.

I looked coolly at her, running my eyes over the tattoos that sleeved her muscular body to the chin. "Are all these tattoos representations of your kills?" I asked her

Sherok eased her grip on my wrist. "No," she said, "a Terdini cannot ink themselves until their first kill, but after they've been baptized in blood there are a number of tattoos one can earn." Sherok pointed to her left thigh, where a decapitated head and a basket were inked side by side, "This one is for my first raid, and this one I got because I placed third in the biannual basket weaving contest."

"You gave yourself a participation trophy."

"Placing third still gets you on the podium!" Sherok said with such vehemence that it must've been a touchy subject for her.

"And this one?" I asked, pointing to small hand over her left breast.

"Trenok." Sherok beamed proudly. Then she turned over, showing me the tantalizing length of her athletic back, ending perfectly in two robust glutes. "Can you guess this one?" She smiled coyly over her shoulder, pointing to a tattoo of parted lips an inch from her crack.

"Brock likes to eat ass?"

"Do those look like Brock's thin lips?" Sherok laughed, "A chief's daughter from a neighboring clan was abducted by trolls. I happened upon their camp, and rescued her. She was very, very, very grateful." Sherok rotated herself lasciviously, her black eyes glinting with amusement, "So you see, there are many tattoos you can get, Elena of the Straltaira. What deed would you like to immortalize on your flesh?"

I looked over at the succubi bathing in the river, and smiled. "There's only one thing I've done for the Terdini that's worth remembering. What's the symbol for rescuing the chief from a pack of succubi?"

"A heart circled by a broken chain backdropped by a fist." The tattooist replied gruffly.

I turned to him. "You actually have that in your catalogue?"

"No, I'm just fucking sick of your blabbing, and I don't get paid by the hour." The tattooist pulled out his tapper and needle, "There are no set symbols; I just make shit up as I go along, and you get to tell everyone else the deep meaning behind it. Now, where do you want it?"

"I don't... shouldn't I put more thought into this? This going to be on me forever!"

"Gronk is very good, even if he's not very patient." Sherok chuckled, sliding beside me, "You don't strike me as the type with an eye for artistry, no offense, so you should probably just listen to him. Now..." Sherok gently hooked her fingers under my cloak, "where on Elena of the Straltaira should we put this new tattoo?" She pulled my cloak from my shoulders, exposing me to the waist. I felt her eyes moving over me, and I shifted to give her a better angle. "My god Elena, you have a beautiful body." Sherok said softly, her breath caressing my neck. She moved my ponytail over my bronze shoulder and traced her fingers down my spine. A shudder went through me when her hand lingered on the small of my back. "No, not there." She teased as she turned me around. Her hands traveled around my waist and up the sides of my torso. She stayed her fingers at my breasts, caressing them gently, her thumbs tracing my areolas. "Maybe here? No, they're perfect as they are, we wouldn't want to ruin these. Wait, I know just the place." Sherok grinned at me as she hooked her thumb into her thong, and pushed it down. Just above her clit, was the tattoo of her tribe: two jagged lines bisected by waves to represent the Gorge.

"I can't quite see it; can you bring it closer?" I asked with a sly grin.

Sherok stood, her toned legs casting shadows of muscle, her supple ass creasing above the thigh. Her bald slit was a darker shade of green than the rest of her, and it glistened with desire.

"That is an excellent place to put a tattoo." I smiled as I lowered my face to her, "Unfortunately, I have something in the way there."

"You sure?" Sherok smiled down, gently snaking her fingers through my hair, "I think it would look nice. Of course, I haven't seen this magical cock of yours yet."

"Oh?" I asked, my mouth hovering over her clit, "Did you want to?"

"I've been dying of curiosity." Sherok smiled as she dropped to her knees. I raised my ass off the chair and let Sherok pull my cloak to my ankles. My cock sprung forth and wagged in the air, and Sherok eyed it hungrily. Reaching out with long elegant fingers, she clasped me softly, and my head tilted backward, my eyes closing to savor the coolness of her palm.

"I think between the shoulder-blades would work best for you." Gronk grunted. I just nodded and leaned forward.

Sherok's hand made smooth passes up and down my length as Gronk's tapper struck the fine needle. The prickling between my shoulders was painful, but not overbearing, and with Sherok's fingers doing their work, the pain became a backdrop of sensation, an oddly-calming constant in the swelling tide of lust.

"I don't want you to take this the wrong way, because it's not an insult." Sherok said, "But this is the most feminine penis I've ever seen."

"That's an oxymoron." I laughed breathily.

"It's not when there's this tight little pussy right below it." Sherok said, pushing a curious finger deep into my slit. I smiled lustfully at the she-orc, a soft moan escaping my lips.

"Where did your clitoris go?" She asked.

"You're holding it." I moaned.

"Oh my," Sherok said, looking up and down my length, "It must be so sensitive."

"It is!" I gasped when her supple lips wrapped around it. I struggled to stay still for the tattooist as Sherok consumed me fully, rotating about my base, her black eyes twinkling up at me. I hooked my thumbs under her chest strap and pulled down, releasing her breasts in a jiggling explosion. I cupped each of them, her soft skin conforming delightfully beneath my fingers, her nipples hard and wet. Sherok moaned lowly around me, then pulled out slowly, her lips sealed, her tongue licking all the way.

"Wow," She whispered when my tip left her mouth, braids of precum bridging her lips, "there is something in your seed, Elena."

I pushed her breasts together, my thumbs pressing into the nipples. "And how does it make you feel?"

"Hungry for more!" She gasped, and dove back down. As she took me into her throat, she parted the fingers of her exploring hand, and inserted two in my pussy, and two in my ass. The tattooist had to press down on my back to keep it from arching. Sherok winked, her lips quirking in a smile around my cock, her tusks biting playfully into its underside. I pressed her nipples until they inverted, and her smile disappeared, turning back into a ravenous oval about my base. Her long fingers found virgin depths within both my holes, and as I gritted my teeth around my masculine pleasure, I was assaulted with a woman's vulnerable lust. Inside me. So deep inside me! I opened my legs to take her deeper, angling my pelvis so that she could do the same with me. Gronk growled and pushed his hand against my back, folding me over to keep me still. Trapped in that position, with the top of Sherok's head sliding along my belly, at the mercy of her exploitive fingers and consuming mouth, I began to climax.

"Make me come!" I cried.

Sherok smiled around my cock, and complied. Her head bobbed with a gluttonous fervor, glossing my shaft with her spit. When she took me in, her swan-like neck swallowed to apply pressure, the suction pulling at my spasming loins. Her fingers penetrated my holes at a frenetic pace, my juices gushing from me with each push, dribbling down my taint, wetting my anal violation. I whined and hissed, trying to reciprocate with my hands as I clumsily fondled her breasts, unable to find dexterity in the heat of my pleasure. Sherok's other hand serviced what I could not, pushing four fingers between her squatting legs, her nectar stringing from between her knuckles, pooling at her heels. Without warning, a trifecta of pleasures coursed through me, fluttering in my nethers, aching in my anus, raging in my loins. I panted and gasped as Sherok moaned muffled tones, her hips swaying in a dance of desire. She planted her face firmly against my crotch, and I unloaded down her throat. Her moans rose to stifled screams as my cum gushed into her belly, my charmed seed bringing her to orgasm. I saw a spasm lance up her spine, and her hips dropped, her thighs trembling violently. She squirted on the ground between my feet, and though her eyes rolled back, and her face flushed, she didn't stop sucking me until I was dry. Then she pulled out slowly, her lips quirking in a playful smile as her cheeks grew gaunt, highlighting her severe cheekbones. My cock sprung from her lips with a pop, clean and shining.

"It's rare for a thing to be better than advertised." Sherok said, drawing one tantalizing finger along my underside, then sucking it clean, "I can see why beasts of lust would sacrifice their freedom to be in the service of something like this."

"I'm always open for more slaves." I smiled.

"Do I seem the type to wrap myself in chains and squeal for you?" Sherok raised her brows.

"I'd love to see it."

"You think yourself a dominating woman, don't you, Elena of the Straltaira?" Sherok said, standing to her full height, "When all you've had are elves and succubi, I suspect it's easy to think that." She grabbed my cock and squeezed, not to the point of pain, but to the edge of it. She loomed her face over mine as I moaned and withered beneath her. "But you've never been with a warrior like me, Ranger." She flicked her tongue across my lips, "I've made slaves of men twice your size, and I tied them down and milked them until they worshipped me like a goddess."

"I'm feeling rather worshipful right now." I whispered, my voice full of breath.

Sherok's tusked showed in her grin, and she released my cock. "It's a shame that you must be going. With my husband gone, you and I could've had the whole day to ourselves."

"I'll be back. And if Brock's in a generous mood, I'm sure we could share you."

"Share me?" Sherok scoffed, "You'll be the novelty of the bedchamber Elena of the Straltaira, so you'll be the one shared. You might have to take a dick for the team."

"Only if he does." I laughed.

"He'd never!" Sherok snickered.

"I'm done Ranger," Gronk growled, "you didn't make it easy for me."

"Turn around, let me see it!" Sherok said excitedly.

As I turned, I heard the familiar whistle of an arrow over my shoulder and I hit the ground with reflexes honed to instinct. A split-second later, a volley of arrows rained around me, thudding into table tops, singing off rocks. I reached for my bow, only to see Sherok's fist already closed around it.

"Give it to me!" I shouted, but Sherok couldn't hear me anymore. A haft protruded from her right eye socket, her remaining eye staring vacantly as blood flowed from her nostrils. I heard the familiar twangs of bowstrings, and I scrambled under the nearby table. Another volley fell, and Sherok's body was riddled. Gronk gurgled, clutching the haft imbedded in his neck and falling to the ground. Arrows landed like hail, the sharp heads blasting through the wood above me. When the volley stopped, I dove out of cover, grabbed my bow and quiver of Yavara's Nadi arrows, and scrambled back beneath the table. The wails and screams of the wounded sounded from all around, their bodies lying in groups between the huts. Drawing my bow, I searched the tree line, knowing exactly where to look. These were rangers after all, and I knew how they hunted.

I saw a green cowl protruding from a high branch. I put one through his neck and searched for the next one. A bush moved unnaturally, and I fired into it. The ranger tumbled out, screaming at the flights stuck in his belly. At the sight of the wounded elf, a group of orcs surged from cover, and charged the tree line.

"Don't!" I screamed, but it was too late. They were cut down immediately, one after the other until a lone orc was roaring at the top of her lungs with her hammer high overhead. An arrow struck her shoulder, and she spun one way, then another struck her thigh, and she spun another. She danced to the rhythm of arrows until she was porcupined with them, and her hammer fell behind her as she fell to her knees, then her face. But her sacrifice wasn't in vain, for I'd been watching the tree line as she died. I drew my bow, and fired five arrows in quick succession. I missed on two of them, but the other three were kill shots. Then a series of very well-placed arrows zipped right past my head, and I knew I'd overstayed my position. I cursed, scrambled on hands and knees, and darted into a nearby hut.

Around a score of orcs were already huddled there, their eyes wide with terror.

"What the fuck do we do?!" One screamed at me.

"Get your crossbows and follow me!" I yelled, "They'll set fire to the hut if we stay here!"

Ducking at the hips, I sprinted from the hut, moved across the clearing, and dove behind a wall. It wasn't a brave maneuver; the leading runner rarely gets shot. The orcs following me were set upon by a volley, and four were cut down before the rest jumped the wall. Sure enough, flaming missiles came right after, sticking into the dry grass of the hut and setting it ablaze. Their path marked their archers, and I counted three rangers in the bushes and two more in the trees. Rangers operated in squads of twelve, which meant there were two more I couldn't see. The orcs pressed themselves to the wall, thirteen men and women, six with crossbows, seven with swords and spears. A mismatch to say the least.

"Now what?!" A she-orc screamed, her eyes wide with panic. I held up a staying hand, assessing my surroundings. The sounds of skirmishes rang throughout the village, squads of elves firing into scrambling packs of orcs. This was a hit-and-run mission, meant to take out key targets and sow chaos, but the elves that surrounded the village were horribly outnumbered, and wouldn't move from the tree line. They'd pick us off with eternal patience until we forced them out.

"Those with crossbows, fire into the trees at my command!" I yelled. "When we've launched our volley, those with melee weapons charge into the woods and kill everything that moves!"

I stood up, drew my bow, and fired a blind shot into the tree line. I was greeted a downpour of arrows. I dropped behind the wall at the last second, and screamed, "Now!"

Six orcs stood and fired wildly into the trees. One lucky bolt met its mark, sending a screaming elf from the branch. I shot off two more arrows, one making contact. The orc beside me lurched backward with an arrow stuck through his forehead, but it was the last one shot. The elves had expended themselves trying to shoot me, and under the cover of crossbow bolts, the seven charging orcs rushed into the woods unimpeded, and hacked down the remaining rangers. I heard the shrieks, and gulped. There was no doubt that I had known at least one of them.

"Fuckin' eh." The she-orc beside me sighed, lowering her crossbow, "I thought we-" and an arrowhead blasted from her chest, pitching her forward against the wall.

"Behind us!" I screamed, leaping the barricade. Three more crossbowmen were cut down trying to get over, leaving me with only one. The two of us raced alongside the wall, our heads bowed as arrows ricochet above us. The melee orcs in the forest charged after, two of them felled before they reached us. We ran right into another mass of orcs, all of them clutching melee weapons and cowering against the wall. A group of young men, barely past boyhood, not a tattoo on any of them.

"You can't stay here!" I yelled at them, "They'll just flank us! We need to rush them!"

"You fucking do it!" One of them yelled.

"Fine." I said, tossing him my bow, "You cover me! Oh, you've never used one those before? Well then, let me teach you in the short time we have left to live!" I snatched the bow from his hands, "Or you can grow a fucking sack, and earn your ink!"

"It won't mean shit if we're dead!"

"You're not going to die!" I yelled. In times of such terror, a confident voice yelling a blatant lie was all the comfort some needed. Adarian had taught me that. The orcs fixed their attentive gazes on me, waiting for me to tell them the secret to getting out of this clusterfuck.

"I need those with sword and shield to jump the wall and rush the tree line head on. Keep your shields high and your bodies low, and don't slow for a second. You'll be fine!" I assured them, "Just keep your shields at head to chest; head to chest, got me?"

"Yes ma'am!" One yelled. The others nodded.

"Those with javelins and spears follow me around the bend, and we'll hit them from the side. Got it?"

"Yes ma'am!" Most of them yelled this time, their faces set with purpose.

"On my mark." I said, and straightened over the wall once more, presenting a clear target. I fired one defiant shot, then ducked as a volley whizzed over our heads, "Now!"

The ten shield and sword orcs leapt over the wall, and two of them sprang backwards, arrows in their chests. The other eight ducked and kept their shields high as they sprinted, screaming at the tops of their lungs. I raced around the wall's bend with my spearmen, praying that the elves wouldn't notice the utterly exposed troop running parallel to their line of fire. My prayers were answered as the ensuing volley rained down on the attacking melee infantry, dropping two more. The other six had blinders on, focused only on the tree line, not yet noticing that I had lied right to their faces. They were a sacrifice, but it hadn't been in vain. My troop slipped around the bend, and charged head-on into the ranger flank.


Spears and javelins shot through the air and into the trees. Five elves came screaming down. I aimed and fired two more shots, sending two more rangers tumbling from their perches. The melee squad finally made it, barreling through the brush as they screamed their war cry. Elves were no match for orcs in hand to hand combat, and the remaining rangers who hid in the brush were driven out and cut down. The orcs were brutal with battle fever, hacking off limbs in stay of a killing blow, making the rangers know horror and agony before the end. I wanted to say something to stop them, but I couldn't. I understood why they did it. Being pinned against a wall like a trapped rat while your brothers and sisters died around you would make a demon of anyone. The last elf mercifully gurgled his death scream, and the orcs cheered. A bird-call split the air. The encircling woodlands rustled with movement, and the remaining rangers retreated without a sound. It was over. I sighed, and lowered my bow. An arrow struck the barrel next to my face, the shaft twanging. It was a Nadi arrow, a message curled around the shaft. My eyes shot to the far end of the village, where a cowl could barely be discerned above the treetops. Adarian always was the best shot at Castle Thorum. His cowl disappeared, and I plucked the arrow from the barrel.

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