The Slave World Abductions Ch. 08.1

Haggath only became aware of the others when the Hetman's hand fell upon his shoulder.

He stopped and turned, ready to unleash Hades on the orc who'd dared interfere with his attempted breakage.

The Hetman's face stopped him short.

"You've had your fun, Haggath," he growled quietly, "It's time for your brother orcs to take their turn."

"Uh," Haggath hesitated. He was still hard, still lustful. What did this slave do to me?

He wanted to go on still, but it wasn't just the Hetman standing, with lust-filled expressions and hard cocks pointed at him and the slave. Orc custom reasserted itself in his brain, but just barely.

He pulled out; his cock slipped from the slave's pussy with a "ssshluuurp," and a gush of cum. The slave had unwrapped her legs, and she stood against the pole, spread, wet, and waiting.

Haggath staggered to the dining table to pour some mead. He looked down at his cock. Fuck! I'm still hard!

Furthermore, his horniness hadn't abated.

I want to fuck her still! She's a slave. I should have killed her. The others should kill her. Yet, I'm hard for her . . . a slave . . . a human sla . . .! By the Black Gods of Dis! Did we buy a succubus?!

It made sense. The intense atmosphere of lust. The drive. He may be an orc, and orcs usually don't give much thought to where they stick their spears, but he knew very well of the infernal races.

Gods curse that goblin and those cows! No wonder they sold her cheap . . . but wait . . . Why don't I feel drained?

Haggath thought some more, Yeah, no . . .

He did feel mildly tired, but more from exertion, not the feeling which comes from tantric or soul drainage. In fact, he was hornier than ever. His cock was so hard, it was almost painful.

He looked at the slave. Her pale gold and flesh pink body was lost in a pile of orcs. Grunts and growls rumbled from that quaking, throbbing mass. Its shape made literal the term, "balling".

Haggath's cock strained towards that flesh pile, as a metal spear to a magnet. The air in the tent was thick with lust. Haggath drained his mead, and followed his cock back to the mass.

"There is something else going on here," he thought but, for all his orc strength, he couldn't resist it.

The Red Horde did everything they could to break the slave, short of hitting . . . or strangling . . . or cutting.

Fists were raised, but the fists became open palms. Hard spanking was the best they could muster. Something, some powerful spell, kept the orcs from achieving the level of violence, per the usual custom.

So the Red Horde resorted to stuffing every hole they could find.

Cocks, big, thick, and veined, rammed into her bung, her pussy, and down her throat. Whether from stretching in the dungeons, or some unnatural, but human aspect, the slave's holes took them all.

Cocks slammed into her mouth and flooded her throat with cum. A lesser slave would have choked to death under the assault (something the orcs wouldn't have noticed, nor cared in they had. "Fuck 'em 'til they're cold," was an orc motto). She swallowed with near superhuman suction.

Depending on their size, the orcs found her holes could take two, or three, at once.

The whole affair passed beyond orgy into hysterical frenzy. Orc curses, and black prayers to the darkest gods, filled the tent. Orcs fought, killed each other to get to the meat who could take them in.

She was rammed, drilled, spitroasted, masticated, basted, and tenderized. The slave never tired through the whole action. She fucked back, keeping a stamina that first matched, then surpassed, the orcs.

A lull came into the frenzy late in the night. The slave rested atop an orc, Korath the Flesh Grater, who was ass-reaming her with almost desperate enthusiasm (he had insecurity issues, and drawing a response from the slave would prove his manhood cred).

An orc withdrew his cock from her mouth. The slave, her expression still contemptuous, and distinctly unimpressed, looked around at the sweaty, gasping Horde, with their hard, dripping cocks.

The cum and sweat-drenched hellslave smirked, licked the splooge from her lips, and said words which set off a Slaveworld mini-nuclear explosion, "Come on boys, I know you got more than that."

A slow building rumble swept the dining hall. In spite of everything in the hours before, this bitchslut dared to still challenge the Horde.

A collective growl of rage, emasculation, and overwhelming lust grew into a roar, and the Red Horde rushed to break this insolent slut once and for all.

To Be Continued in Chapter Eight: Part Two