The Baroness and the Orc Ch. 01

Just a few author notes, as I prefer a potential reader to know what they're getting into before committing to a read.

The Baroness and the Orc is grimdark erotic fantasy. Very grimdark. It takes place in an unhappy world and unhappy things occur in it. Demons have infested a once peaceful land, and orcs--once humanity's greatest enemy--are now turned to by some desperate humans as saviors, despite their brutality and insistence on enslaving humanity.

The specific kinks included in this story mostly revolve around orcs dominating humans and all that entails. Humans that willingly enslave themselves to orcs are called thralls, and the eroticism is built from that relationship. There is non-consent (orcs fucking humans initially against their will, the humans eventually enjoying it), lots of extreme anal sex, large breasts and cocks, and big, muscled, green orcs doing whatever they want with conquered humans. The story features a very masochistic main character who gets off to everything done to her. There is much debauchery and wanton fucking and degradement, as well as unhealthy relationships. Bad or depressing things are presented as good and beautiful through the main character's masochistic world view.

Quick note on the orcs: they are dual-sexed orcs. Meaning their species has one sex with both male and female genitalia. Basically, they could be viewed as futas, but more in a biologically accurate and serious light. They present as large, muscled females with breasts, and have both a vagina and penis and balls, and even a social system based around the roles a dual-sexed species would develop.

Note there is death, NOT sexualized. Orcs and human soldiers fight, and humans are killed in battle.

* * *

Baroness Emily Lawford found herself surrounded by a bleak vista and bleaker news, and so she clutched her orc tome closer to her heart.

It was supposed to be a pleasant outing away from town. A picnic on a green hill overlooking a shimmering lake. But how could any outing be pleasant in the modern age? Excursions like those were a thing of decades past, when the sky wasn't permanently covered by a thick layer of grey clouds painting everything in dull shades. When demons didn't prowl the deep woods and haunt the shadows of dead human cities.

Before the Ripping of the Realms.

"Truly?" asked Lady Charlotte, her warrior's body tensed as if the story Priestess Raines told was happening next to them at that very moment. Emily nibbled on her cake, eyes cast on the horizon.

"Truly," said the Priestess, looking out of place in her arch light priestess outfit with its long skirts, sleeves, and habit that covered her hair. "The entire caravan was set upon by demons. Not a single one of them was left alive, except for the witness, of course."

The cake went down dry. The witness. The one left alive to run back and tell tales of what happened.

Demons do love their games, thought Emily.

"A whole house," said Emily's mother, a strange combination of despair and exhaustion on her face. Emily was the spitting image of her mother, only three decades younger. They were both short, petite women with light complexions and black hair, troublesomely large breasts for their frames, along with a certain melancholy thoughtfulness on their faces. "Just like that, a whole house wiped away. Simply because they wanted to relocate to the city where its safer."

The senior Baroness Lawford was out of sorts these days. But then who wasn't? Times were hard, and combined with her mother's own personal issues related to aging--even now she hid obvious back pain as she sat straight in her tightly corseted dress--the stress mounted. There had already been discussions of the transition of leadership now that Emily had just come of age. Emily was ready to rule, to finally really help her mother.

"That's the danger of travel on the road these days," said Lady Charlotte, pushing her armored shoulders back. She was a tall, athletic woman with tightly braided brown hair and a stern look perpetually plastered on her face. She wore quite the large greatsword at her back, and Emily knew she could wield it better than any man-at-arms in the barony of Grimsfield. "You think you have enough soldiers to go outside a town's walls, but you can never have enough. If it's not the monsters we've always had to content with, then it's the demons. Did they put up a good fight?"

Priestess Raines winced and shook her head. "The story relayed to me was...distressing." She exhaled a heavy breath and looked away.

"Oh, let's hear it," said Hannah. She actually had a smile on her face, framed by smartly cut black hair. Her trusted lady-in-waiting, always ready to turn everything into a party or a joke.

The Priestess hesitated.

"It would do good to hear an account of the attack," said Lady Charlotte. "For strategic purposes, in case I'll ever have to raise my own sword in defense of House Lawford and Grimsfield."

"Very well," said Priestess Raines, swallowing. She was a tall and full-bodied woman under all those demure priestess robes--and in her thirties, young for an arch light priestess. But pickings were slim lately. Her large, green eyes had a sheen to them, as if she'd seen the attack herself and was relieving it, and she licked at her full lips before continuing.

"The soldiers did indeed fight bravely," she went on. "But they didn't last long. The demons came from all sides, from behind and ahead, and in all shapes and sizes as well. Forms that appeared similar to humans but with wings and tails and fangs, and also forms so wild and disturbing you'd think them nightmares given flesh. Writhing teeth and claws and eyes and tentacles. They slaughtered the soldiers, piercing them with sharpened limbs, ripping their bodies to pieces, throwing them about the road."

Hannah's smile faded, and she looked downward, her brown skin somehow managing to blanch. "Oh. That's...awful."

That was always like Hannah. Ignorant enthusiasm followed by sobering reality.

"At least it sounds like it was over fast," said Lady Charlotte, squeezing a gauntleted hand. The dulled sunlight through thick layers of perpetual clouds managed to make her metal armor glint. "House Parsons at least was given that small gift. They didn't suffer long."

"Oh," said Priestess Raines. "Were it only so. The soldiers were put down quickly, but the family and servants, well...that took longer. The demons, they...toyed with them."

Lady Charlotte scooted closer where she sat on the hill. "How so?"

"It's...too awful to say."

Emily's mother covered her mouth, her eyes glistening. Hannah went silent. Lady Charlotte looked like she wanted to take on the entire demon horde herself right then and there.

Matthew appeared from behind the carriage on the road, where the other house men-at-arms stood a respectful distance away. His smiling face was a breath of fresh air. "Well that feels better!" he called, skinny arms gangling about as he joined the rest of the picnicking party. "I didn't miss all the cakes, did I? You lot are looking gloomy today. Has the tea gone bad?"

He sat next to Emily, and she leaned into him, thankful to feel her fiance's warmth.

"What's this?" he asked, wrapping an arm around her. "Did I miss something after all?"

"No," said Emily softly. "I just like it when you hold me."

Matthew went for the remaining cakes, while the group moved on to other depressing discussions involving how hard things were becoming. Demons that grew more and more dangerous and numerous, along with the more common monsters. They talked about how humanity was reduced to only two major cities now, and how smaller towns like her own Grimsfield seemed to be falling one by one, along with what few walled farms remained.

Matthew joined the conversation, but Emily suddenly wanted to be somewhere else. She opened up her tome on orcs, Sir Gladahan's Guide to the Modern Orc, and began reading random passages.

There are many key differences that separate the ancient orc from before the Ripping of the Realms and the modern orc. One of the most famous and most discussed is in how they deal with humanity. Make no mistake, the modern orc views humans in the very same way they always have. That is, they believe humanity is the result of a rebel goddess' failed attempt at recreating her sister's "perfect" creation, the orc. They still view humans as animals without an ounce of spiritual value in them. But before the Ripping, they would gladly slaughter any and all humans on sight. We were great enemies to each other, we humans and orcs. Great rivals. The sudden arrival of demons in our world changed things, however. The modern orc has committed to only putting down those humans who fight or resist orc imperialism. To those foolish humans who willingly submit? The orc offers mercy and a life of slavery.

Emily flipped the page, her fingers running down the weathered parchment. She had read the book dozens of times, and it only got more fascinating with each read. The orc was truly a marvelous creature. Priestess Raines was going on about needing to increase and spread the worship of Goddess Etana. Emily ignored her and kept reading.

The modern orc has even categorized their chattel. There are two classes among the owned: slaves, and thralls. The slave is forcibly taken and coerced into performing labor or sexual servitude under threat of harm or death. These days, the slave is very rare, if even still a practiced thing. It is now mostly reserved for other orc warriors from rival clans who were captured in battle and forced into servitude as a form of humiliation for the conquered and celebration for the victors.

Thralls share a similar life and status, but have voluntarily entered into this arrangement. They want to commit their lives to serving the orcs. Most all owned humans I met on my expeditions were in this class of servant. They needed no threats or coercion. They obeyed without question. Why would someone voluntarily want to live such a horrible life? That, my astute reader, brings me to the subject of orc cultists.

Emily gripped the edges of the book. Orc cultists. Those humans who cast aside the worship of everything good and pure, who turned their back on Goddess Etana, and chose to embrace the orc deity Goddess Atrix.

Sir Gladahan went on in length about orc cultists and the many reasons they betrayed humanity to serve barbarous beasts, and for every time he condemned the reasoning, Emily only saw rationality.

Sir Gladahan claimed it was cowardly to look to the strength of the orc for protection from the pure annihilation of demons. To Emily, it was logical, and the only solution to the demon crisis.

Sir Gladahan claimed it was shameful to give up the freedoms and pride of humanity and embrace the humiliation of being a thrall. To Emily, it felt natural and right.

Sir Gladahan claimed it was perverse to revere the orc form, and to sexually desire them, that the creatures were no greater than mindless animals. To Emily, they were beautiful and worthy of reverence.

Sir Gladahan claimed to reject the true teachings of the Goddess Etana was pure madness and the Goddess Atrix was a complete fiction. To Emily, the teachings of Goddess Atrix were starting to sound a lot more true than those of humanity's goddess.

She flipped ahead, and found herself landing on the drawings of orc anatomy. The book seemed to just want to open there sometimes, it seemed. The sight always made her heart leap in her chest. It was an exceptionally realistic drawing of an orc, complete with notations all around it.

The average orc stands seven feet tall, and has far greater muscle mass than that of an average human.

Though my penciling can't convey, all orcs are some shade of green, mostly of a deep, forest variety. And no, the orc doesn't shave her body. They naturally have no hair below the neck.

Their hair they do have is usually black, and comes in all manner of wild styles, from shaved and spiked abominations to surprisingly chic cuts that wouldn't look so out of place on a fashionable noblewoman.

Many orcs decorate their long, pointed ears with piercings and jewelry.

Note the mildly protruding bottom tusks. Canine-like fangs are also hidden under the upper lip. Signs of their nearness to the mindless beasts of the wild.

As seen here, the orc creature is dual-sex. Not male and female, as with any divinely created good creature of this world. A single orc wields both male and female sexual organs--a penis, testicles, and vagina--as well as greatly overdeveloped breasts (by human standards). Despite the confusion of their genitalia, they all seem to self-identify as female, and their voices, if monstrous and bone-chilling, would reflect that gender choice.

Emily stared at the drawing of the orc. She was beautiful. So tall, so powerful. Shoulders broad and muscled. Stomach toned like chiseled stone, hips wide and round, thighs thick as trees, the whole shape somehow capturing both femininity and immense physical power at the same time. The ferocious, determined look on her face. The breasts, certainly large, yet they didn't seem to have the soft hang of human breasts, such as her own ample chest had. These seemed to be more resilient.

And then of course, her eyes fell between those powerful thighs. Emily read the notation there.

From my observations, the average orc seems to have a penis roughly twelve inches in length, with varying degrees of width. Upon erection, the size doesn't seem to increase much, but the member simply grows harder and more veined. The testicles are oversized compared to those of humans, which no doubt has helped lead to the barbarous nature of the orc. The amount of ejaculate is many times more than the average human produces, and the orc orgasm seems to last substantially longer as well, reaching the half-minute mark regularly. The degree to which the testicles hang down the length of the thigh depicted here is no exaggeration on my part!

Emily felt herself growing lightheaded, her fingers absently running up and down the length of the penis in the drawing. Her mouth watered.

I wonder, she thought. I wonder what it would be like. I so wonder.

But soon I won't have to wonder, will I?

She flipped ahead a few pages to the section on orc sexuality. There were parts about the roles in orc society, how they mirrored male and female roles in human civilization. How the orcs seemed to choose their role, since they weren't biologically different from each other. Some chose to be a "matriarch", and those managed the homestead and gave birth to orc pups and nursed them. The others chose to be "sires", and those were hunters and warriors, and were the ones who did the mounting during intercourse. Sir Gladahan had never seen an instance of an orc swapping between the two roles freely, and it all rather seemed to be a system that everyone just naturally followed.

Then she got to the part about the biological needs of the orc with regards to sexuality.

No other fact provides credence to the orc's complete absence of divine approval than her insatiable need to achieve orgasm on a daily basis. I don't make this claim lightly. It is a scientific fact of their biological makeup. Something about these testicles requires them to ejaculate at least once a day. If this isn't achieved, an orc can undergo great mental stress, emotional anguish, and physical pain in the groin region. It is truly debilitating. I even witnessed a few cases where the frustrated orc spontaneously ejaculated against her own will, so great was her need for relief. I actually felt sorry for the poor lass! Most orcs I studied "expressed" twice a day at least, once in the morning and once before bed.

Those orcs lucky enough to have an orc mate usually find relief in each other's arms. Then there are those who own a human thrall. A great portion of a thrall's responsibility is helping achieve this kind of sexual relief. To those sad orcs without mate or thrall, they are left to their own hands to milk themselves. This act is considered shameful among orc society, as it is evidence of an orc's inability to find either an orc mate or human thrall.

When it comes to orc-human sexual relations, the less said the better. It is violent, and as far removed from the way the Goddess Etana intended as possible. More often than not, the orc chooses sodomy over vaginal penetration, or might receive oral stimulation, and they are not above doing this with both male and female humans. The orc penis, of course, was not designed for sexual relations with humans, and this, combined with the orc's complete disregard for human comfort, pleasure, or safety, creates great risk for a human being mounted.

Emily was absolutely wet at this point. She bit her bottom lip, and rubbed her thighs together, wanting so badly to touch her clitoris. That would be impossible given her current situation, though. Her fiance at her side happily ate cakes and drank white wine, while the others continued talking about demons and the Goddess and all sorts of things that Emily didn't care about right now.

What she wanted was to provide a solution to the demons that trouble Priestess Raines and Lady Charlotte and Hannah and her mother so. She wanted to tell them the orcs could help. The orcs could protect them.

Emily let out a silent whimper.

The orcs could fuck them.

"You're reading that book again?" came Matthew's voice out of nowhere. It shocked Emily awake and she snapped it closed. It was an uncomfortable feeling being ripped from her dream and tossed back into immediate reality.

"She's always reading that book," said Hannah with a little laugh, her eyes big and round and dark.

"Orcs," said Priestess Raines with a disgusted shake of her head. "Just as bad as demons. You shouldn't be wasting your time reading about them, young Baroness. There are other things ladies of your station and age should be reading. The Goddess' teachings, for one thing."

Emily couldn't help feel a tiny swell of anger at the Priestess' words. "Orcs are not just as bad as demons, and you know it."

Lady Charlotte shifted where she sat, uncomfortable. "They're the mortal enemies of humanity, Baroness. Priestess Raines has a point."

"They may be, but that doesn't mean they're just as bad as demons. All demons care about is mindless killing all the time. The orcs are willing to reason. If you were to throw down your sword, Charlotte, why, they'd spare your life."

"Aye," said Charlotte. "And that life would be one of slavery."

"Still better than demons." Emily bit her bottom lip, and dared to test the waters. "I think we should broker some kind of treaty or agreement with some orc tribes, honestly. We could pay them like mercenaries, they could protect us from demons. Nobody can kill demons like orcs, after all."

It wasn't the truth of her heart's desire, of course. She wanted to serve the orcs, not hire them. But still, there was no way she could breach that idea in her current company.

Her mother chimed in softly. "Things like that have been attempted in the past. Orcs want nothing to do with humans if it's not enslaving or killing us. They view any kind of cooperation with humanity as going directly against their religion. They only see us as livestock."

Priestess Raines grunted. "Atrix. What a sham of a goddess. Their religion is as barbaric as they are. It's true, Emily, that orcs may give mercy to those surrendering, but I might choose death over that if it comes to it."

Hannah giggled and grabbed the book, flipping through its pages. "Oh, I don't know. I think orcs are pretty, actually. Lady parts and boy parts all mixed in together. And those members of theirs. Look at the size. I wouldn't mind having a tussle in the sheets with one."