The Prince and the Orc Queen Ch. 02

"Yeah, it grows on you." Shaka chuckled as she roughly patted him on the back before going back to drinking.

Peter attempted to continue dining despite his shame, wishing that he had some other beverage to wash his mouth out with. Instead he had to settle for popping a few small potatoes in his mouth and hoping the starchy flavor would douse the heat tormenting his orifice, which it did somewhat. Whit that crisis averted he was about to return to his meal when a sudden burst of cheering rolled through the air demanding his attention. An Orc woman and a futa were entangled together on top of a nearby table, apparently the first couple of the night to start fucking. Orc and human alike cheered their approval as the futa sloppily guzzles ale while slamming her cock in to her partner, the two of them rolling around the table between the dishes occasionally squashing a pie or knocking over mugs. Soon more would follow their example and the hall was practically transformed into an orgy.

He was completely engrossed in watching an Orc woman simultaneously grinding her hips on a nobleman's pelvis while mashing her face into a cleaning woman's muff when he felt Shaka swat his arm to get his attention. When he turned to her she simply gestured off to the distant corner of the room, too busy loudly slurping from a bowl of rabbit stew to speak. Following her hand his gaze eventually landed upon Delilah sitting by herself, wearing once more the thick leather collar but also an Orc vest and loin cloth this time. She watched dreamily as her lover Mugg-Ran engaged in some sort of drinking competition with two other Orcs and a very obese man some few feet away. His heart gave a small flutter, like a butterfly with crumpled wings still trying to fly. She was alone, if he wanted to talk to her now would most likely be his best chance. Shaka gave him an encouraging nod as he got up, as well as a firm slap on his ass as he walked by her.

His heart rattled around in his rib cage and the breath flew from his lungs as he approached her table. Deep down he had already abandoned any hope he had that he and Delilah would be together romantically, but she was still such a huge part of his life that he didn't know if he could handle it if she was torn away from him completely. He felt like her sudden absence would leave a vacuous void in him and his entire world would collapse in on itself. Perhaps Shaka was right though, that she would still have room somewhere in her heart for him, he had to know for himself. Carefully he sidestepped around the drinking contest, sure at any moment that Mugg-Ran would turn and catch him. Blissfully however he got around her without incident and sidled up next to Delilah on the bench. For what felt like an eternity he sat there trying to work up the courage to speak to her, while she remained too busy ogling Mugg-Ran to notice him.

"Delilah..." He finally managed to softly speak, gently tapping her on the shoulder.

Delilah swiveled around to face him, seemingly startled to realize that someone had been so close to her without her noticing. In a flash her face transformed from surprised to one of recognition and her cherry lips blossomed into a beautiful smile.

"Peter!" She cried out excitedly as she threw herself against him, wrapping her arms over his shoulders overcome with bubbly giggling. "There you are, I haven't seen you in days! Where have you been, silly?"

Feeling her warm skin against his was almost orgasmic, for a second flinging him back to a much different time in their lives. He couldn't help but melt into her, laying his head on her shoulder and squeezing her tightly. An peaceful eternity passed like that before she broke the hug, making him experience the loss of her all over again.

"You- you remember me?" He asked, blinking back tears.

"Well of course silly!" She chided him, giving him a solid punch on the arm.

Peter forced himself to chuckle as he rubbed the spot where she had hit him. That was a surprisingly aggressive move for her, he thought to himself. Delilah had previously been a very shy and reserved person, he recalled when they first began their courtship how intimidated she had been by him and was hesitant in the beginning to even touch him.

"Well, I only say that because... back in the garden... you know, you sort of..." He began to mumble quietly, trying his best not to think of that day.

Delilah drooped slightly at he mention of the incident and took on an expression of genuine sadness as she laid her hand on his arm. Even such a small gesture from her was enough to signal to him that she did still care on some level about him. His heart swelled and roared like an unleashed beast, but in the next moment he did his best to tame it and temper his expectations. They were no longer together, he had to keep reminding himself.

"Yeah... I'm really sorry about how that happened." She told him honestly. "It was just a lot for me to take in at once and my brain kind of shut down for a bit. I wish I would have had a chance to explain things to you in private rather than having you find out that way."

"Well... explain it to me now." Peter stared at her seriously.

They sat there with their eyes glued to each others for an achingly long time as Delilah scrunched her face up in a pensive reverie. Peter still struggled to understand the relationship between his lost lover and her Orc partner and it was his hope that she could shed some light on the situation. He wasn't sure if he could ever truly move on from her but he thought he could learn to live without her as long as he knew she was happy, which so far she seemed to be. But the way he had seen Mugg-Ran treating her gave him severe fears about her well being.

"Okay, first off..." She finally began. "I want to say I'm sorry about how it happened again, but I'm not sorry that it happened. I want you to know that none of this has anything to do with any shortcomings that you have, this isn't about you not being good enough it's about me changing as a person. I know you tried your hardest to make me happy but, I think Orcs may just be better at sex than us."

"There's more to life than just sex!" He automatically snapped back, taken aback by her wanton reasoning.

Delilah let out a frustrated sigh as she attempted to explain further. "okay, yes. But sex is super important. Like way more important that I used to think. And yeah of course there's more to it than that, but... I don't know, it's complicated. So, when we were together we just kind of existed without any direction or purpose. We just kind of did what felt good and tried to work things out as we went along, and that was fine I guess. But now with mamma, there's none of that uncertainty or guess-work. We both know exactly what we're doing and I finally feel like I have a purpose!"

"But that purpose is being a sex object for someone else!" The conversation certainly wasn't doing much to calm his concerns so far.

"Maybe... but it's a purpose that I can have certainty and confidence in. What was I doing before? Washing bed sheets and cleaning windows? I didn't care about any of that, and it didn't make me happy!"

"And this does?... make you happy?" Perhaps it was because he'd spent his life being groomed as a ruler, but the idea of finding happiness in being beneath someone else seemed unfathomable to him.

"Yes." She answered confidently. "I can easily say I'm happier now than I ever have been."

That was what he had come here to find out, but he wasn't sure if he completely believed her. In part, it was because he didn't want to believe her. He didn't want to believe that the woman he had spent the past several years of his life madly in love with would rather be a sex toy than be with him. Mostly he didn't want to believe that it was possible for submission to create happiness because he knew that if that were true, it was more than likely that he would soon fall victim to the same fat as Delilah.

"But...but you're a slave!" He continued to try and convince both her and himself.

Delilah winced and slightly recoiled at his tone. "Well, slave probably isn't the right word to use. I know how it must look, but it really is wonderful. Yes, mamma controls my life now, but in doing so she has completely removed all the stress and worry from it. I don't need to be concerned about any of the little things like what I'm going to wear or what I'm going to do that day because mamma takes care of all that, and she takes care of me. All that's left for me to do is enjoy life!"

She stared happily off into space as she thought about her new life, seemingly completely content in her existence. Peter meanwhile sat with a puzzled expression plastered on his face as he attempted to parse what she was saying. She acted as though Mugg-Ran were some kind of savior for her, who swooped in and established order in her life where none existed before. An image he found somewhat difficult to reconcile with how he saw her, as a sadistic barbarian who raped an innocent girl so hard her brain melted and then reluctantly decided to keep her as a pet. Surely he could convince her that Mugg-Ran was no good for her, he had seen the rough way she treated her and doubted that she enjoyed any of that.

"But doesn't she... hit you though? I've seen her slap you before." It pained him to see someone mistreat her like that and he couldn't fathom how she could possibly defend that kind of action.

"Oh yeah, mamma hits me a lot!" She chirped in excitement, her face not changing at all from her distant smiling expression. "But not in a mean way, I like it when she hits me!"

"You do?" He exclaimed, confounded. "But what if she hurts you, like seriously injures you?"

Delilah looked at him quizzically for a moment as if she didn't understand his question. "Mamma would never do anything like that." She assured him. "She only hits me to establish her control, and because I don't think she's comfortable expressing affection any other way. But I know what she means when she does it so it feels good!" She could tell from the befuddled way he looked at her that he had trouble grasping the concept. "Uh, maybe it's something that's easier to understand after you've experienced it for yourself." She sighed.

"And, what about... the uh, name calling?" He asked in disbelief.

"Yeah that..." Delilah blushed. "That feels good too! It's all just pillow talk I guess, I mean it's not like we mean any of it I don't think."

This conversation had done very little to quell Peters fears that Delilah was being mistreated. He greatly suspected that Mugg-Ran had some very different feeling about the nature of their relationship, as far as he could tell she just enjoyed raping and beating people. But deep in the back of his mind he couldn't help but wonder if what Delilah said made any sense. The powerful submissive feeling he got around Shaka did border on feeling surprisingly pleasant, could it be the more he surrendered to her the better it would feel? Already she had given him those dildos that ended up delivering a new world shattering form of pleasure to him. Maybe she had more to show him if only he was willing to be shown. He just didn't know if he could stand to let go of the last of his self respect in order to find out.

"Has the queen never been rough with you or called you names? I'd heard she could be a bit of a hard ass, but maybe she's different in private settings." Delilah said mostly to herself with a shrug.

Now it was Peter's turn to blush. "Oh...no, we uh. Well she decided to wait until our wedding night before we... uh, consummated our relationship."

"Oh, I get it then. That makes sense." She gently laughed before placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it Peter. I promise it will all make much more sense after being dominated by an Orc yourself. Just trust me for now, okay?"

She stared happily at him as though she had just said something meant to reassure him but all it did was serve to remind him of the upcoming traumatic event. While he was perfectly willing to believe that he would experience a life changing evening that night, he had trouble seeing that as a good thing. Shaka was right about what she had said the other day, Delilah had become a different person now. Thinking that the young girl he had fallen in love with was now replaced by someone different caused his heart to burst like a rotting fruit. The woman he had lost his virginity to was no longer there, and most likely never would be again. He wondered if she even had that memory, if she could even remember the times they shared together. Did she remember so often sneaking into his room in the dead of night to make love, or the time they dressed as commoners to attend the fair in the guise of normal citizens. Were those memories still in there, or were they lost in the midst of a swirling vortex of lust and Orc cock? He almost hoped she couldn't remember those moments, now that she was someone else. They were too private, too personal to be with anyone else. Those times were only for him and his beloved, and she was gone now. So they were just for him. And if what she said was true, soon he would be gone too.

That's what truly frightened him, seeing what had been done to Delilah was just a preview of what the queen planned to do to him. He knew there was nothing he could do, they had fought the Orcs all they could and lost. He wasn't a prince anymore, he was just the spoils of war. Over the past five days he'd done all he could to convince himself that it wouldn't be all bad, that life was still worth living. But now his resolve was weakening. He had traded himself for the safety of what was left of humanity, but he had a few questions regarding the fine print of that deal. He wondered what would happen if, for instance he "fell" from the peak of a tall tower and died. Would Shaka still honor their agreement or would she put his people to the sword? It was a very cowardly thing he considered doing, but he was unsure if staying alive would prove an any more dignified fate. He needed counsel and he could no longer go to Delilah for it, nor could he tell Shaka about his potential plan. There was only one other person he could possibly turn to.

Peter bid Delilah a hasty farewell and abruptly stood up and moved towards the nearby door on the east wall, leaving her to watch his exit in confusion. After a moment she simply shrugged and focused her attention once again on the festivities. As he slipped through the door and out into the darkened hallway Peter thought about what he would say to his father. His father and him had gotten along quite famously when he was younger, he recalled. But as time had dragged them forward it had also dragged them apart. Seen through the naive rebellious nature of youth his father became less of a strong moral example and more of a withering old man befouled by prejudices, stubbornly clinging to the ideals of an outdated and fast fading past. More and more as he had grown he found reason to distance himself from the king, who in his old age had become paranoid and distrustful even of his own son.

Still, if there was one thing he could always count on his father for it was his honesty. The king had never been shy about telling him when he had acted a fool, and was a great proponent of letting his opinion be known even when it was not necessarily asked for. He would be able to tell him plainly if what he was thinking of stupid and selfish, or if it was the only honorable way out of a bad situation. He only hoped his father would still be awake this late at night.

The king had been keeping odd hours as of late and from what Peter could tell very few people had seen him. He himself hadn't even spoken to him since the occupation, he had tried to see him but was told by his staff that he wasn't receiving visitors of any kind and turned away every time he tried. He would be insistent this time though, his fathers stewards may serve the king first but they serve the prince second. He was prepared to command them to step aside if he had to, he was sure his father would understand after he explained things to him.

"Hey!" A threatening gruff voice echoed loudly down the hall, passing over him and stopping him in his tracks.

That is if he made it to his father he thought as he slowly turned around to see who had followed him from the feast. The door to the dining hall was still slightly ajar, sending a sliver of light down half the hallway that partially silhouetted a gently swaying Orc figure. She stumbled forward unevenly and he realized she was drunk, an impressive feat for an Orc given their naturally high tolerance for alcohol. As the figure continued staggering down the hall she became unbalanced and teetered toward the wall, sending out her arm at the last minute to catch her self. Leaning against the wall put her mostly in the illuminated part of the hall and burned away her shadowy mask revealing an agitated looking Mugg-Ran staring him down.

"Shaw you talkin' to my bitsh!" She slurred angrily. "You think she'll go back to a pushy like you?"

The hairs on the back of Peters neck stood on end as he began to shuffle away from her. "I...uh, I'm not sure w-what you mean?" He stammered nervously.

"Ha! Not when sheesh got dis' good dick!" She belched out, completely ignoring what he said as she barreled uncontrollably towards him.

Somehow she managed to stay on her feet while lurching forward at an alarming speed, quickly towering over him in a inebriated craze. Her eyes, dark orbs cracked with fresh blood, burned into him as she approached. Peters survival instinct kicked in and forced him to spin away in a desperate attempt to escape from the drunken Orc. He made it less than three feet before he felt an iron grip around his neck, violently yanking him backwards and slamming him painfully against the hard wall. The force of the impact radiated through him, rattling his skeleton around inside him. Blackness overtook his vision making him think he'd gone blind until he realized it was just Mugg-Ran's enormous body eclipsing his own. Pure alcohol steamed down on him from her panting breath as he wrestled impotently against her vise like grip, kicking and thrashing as wildly as he could.

"Think yer bettah then me?" She growled, tightening her fist around his neck.

It was becoming increasingly difficult for Peter to take in breath and he clawed frantically at her hand to no effect. "N-no!" He managed to squeak.

For a long time she stood there, pinning him to the wall and breathing heavily. Her powerful grip left him just enough room in his throat to wheeze air in and out at a panicked rate. After an uncomfortable stretch of silence she looked down at him as if seeing him for the first time, her drunkenness clearly taking a toll on her thought process. With her other hand she clumsily started to grope and feel along his flat chest, digging her fingers into his pectorals and squeezing his flesh through his clothes. A sloppy grin appeared on her face as she slowly started moved down to his groin, pawing at his genitals. He renewed his struggling under her wandering hand, desperate to free himself.

"Can't believe she hashn't fucked you yet." She mumbled to herself. "I'd 'ave raped you bloody firsht chance I got."

A serpent of terror wrapped itself tightly around his heart as he felt her pulling at the waist of his pants, stretching them until the fabric tore apart loudly. He reached down to hold the garment in place as best he could as she continued to lazily strip them from him, revealing his loose fitting shorts beneath. Lust started to pool in her eyes and she licked her lips menacingly as she wormed her fingers into the waistband of his underwear, brushing roughly against his privates.