The Orcs Are Coming!!! Ch. 01

Green hands reached out and partook each of a noble lady, like children squabbling over their new toys. Terrified, the nobles have no choice but to comply, overwhelmed and rendered meek by the insatiable aura that the collective greenskin giants permeated.

The orcs tore away what remained of their once fine liveries, gathering themselves in little enclaves in the hall of the Warchief. And just like children, tearing away the wrappings of their newfound presents. Various women were then rendered in varying state of undress, helpless at the many grasping hands as pieces of their clothes were torn off as they squealed and screeched at the brutish hands of their captors.

Some resisted, some were more adaptive than others.

Lady Charis Altham, a landowner and a mother, pushed into an arrange marriage some twenty years ago, all but accepted her newfound fate with melancholic determination. Her eyes sad and forlorn as she engulfed in her mouth the breadth of this Orcish phallus. She stomached the sweaty stench that emanated from her captor's groin as she hoped to make him come as fast as possible. Her own flesh and blood weren't exempt either. Her daughter, nineteen-year-old Carmin, who inherited her mother's auburn locks, also serviced the very same orc her mother fellated by suckling the balls (with alarming expertise noted by her mother) while her mother worked the shaft. Their master was quite pleased with the combined efforts of both mother and daughter, evident by the shower of thick, viscous fluid that erupted from the glans of his meatspear.

Lady Robine of the Sutherlands, known among the nobility for her chestnut complexion and sultry voice that was said to make men stiff with but a single sigh from her lips, was pinned helpless against a table, while being rammed by a young, overeager orc warrior from behind. Her supple flesh shaking with each wet smack of his juice-drenched manhood, mulching at the sound of her slit being turned to mush by twelve inches of pulsating, veinous member.

Connie Sherwood the Young, slender of frame, flat chested and was adored for her bright personality by her peers alike was spitroasted in betwixt two scarred warriors, eyes smeared by the stain of mascara as tears flowed freely from her eyes just as much as the jizm that overflowed from her cunt and mouth.

Many other highborn ladies were in similar states of debauchery and defilement, amidst the gathered throng of libidinous warriors.

Yavla Greatflare herself was found to be the most popular flesh pocket as she had been during her stay as among the finest beauties in high society. Great breasts fondled by half-a-dozen hands. Just the mere sight of her sent the orcish men wild and frenzied, unable to contain their lust, they stroked their spears of flesh, hard and veinous. Like some sow, she was helpless as all around the orcs were eager to sample the taste of her fluids, to take but a mere lick of her soft, supple, white flesh.

The strongest among their gathering shoved and punched his way until he was on the most prized position in between her legs and thighs, directly ahead of her groin. His tongue was quite unlike anything Yavla ever experienced; Thick and yet viscous, velvety even. Another warrior of great skill fought his way and laid claim to her lips, Pressing his tongue against hers in a dance in of saliva and spit. None were more showered by the white seed than Yavla Greatflare, so drenched was she might as well have taken a bath in it. So riddled was she, she might as well have undergone a storm of jism.

Aniza was stripped of much of her dignity and clothing, leaving only her lacey black stockings and trifling portions of her undergarment. Beat as she might with her feminine hands, Aniza was helpless as the massive girth of the warchief was enveloped by her tight human cunt. Whatever protestations she had, died in her throat as another sound came out, a sound she never thought would come out of her. Lewd and coarse, her head snapped back, eyes wide and tongue out as loud moans escaped her lips.

It was heat, red and fiery like the lifeblood of a volcano, enveloping her folds and setting them ablaze. Her blood afire and her nerves were lit, she nearly blacked out. Her nails dug deep or tried to against the hide of her captor. There was no room for anything else in her mind, his very girth pushed out all thoughts and reason with each squelching ram of his hips. All complaints and decency she had as a noble, gone. She was just another human bitch thirsting for some girthy hot orc cock, tits jiggling as her mind was lost in the tsunami of heat and pleasure.

All night long till the break of dawn did their mad orgy persist. The sight was witnessed atop the battlements by the defenders on the walls. The good men of the City Watch saw all the defilement that would befall their womenfolk should the greenskinned beasts ever lay claim to their city. Their morale was brought low at the display of debased fornication done to their nobles, their alleged leaders.

Was there no hope? No hero to come to their aid?

While the beleaguered defenders of the city waited in hopeless abandon for a miracle to come, they failed to notice the descending dark clouds that encircled atop the Temple of the Gods. There, the air sizzled with the electric coldness of a calm before a storm. For inside the bowels of the timeworn edifice, there are those who, instead of waiting for a miracle to come, they would make one themselves.