The Warchief's Favour

This story was inspired by the alluringly barbaric and barbarically alluring illustrations of an artist who goes by the handle JustSomeNoob.

I'm not able to link to their work here, but I strongly encourage the reader to google this excellent artist, who also goes by JSNart. If you like the kind of big strong women who feature in the following story, then I promise you will like the art that inspired it. And I further promise that the artist is anything but a noob.

Now, without further ado, I hope you enjoy The Warchief's Favour.

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Örek would never have dreamed that he might look upon a She-Orc with anything but contempt. The ill-humoured northerner had done bloody battle with their male counterparts countless times, and the acts of savagery he'd seen them commit were enough to chill even his barbarian blood. He'd never encountered a female Greenskin before, but all accounts held them to be just as ugly, just as ruthless, and just as violent as their menfolk--and he'd never had reason to doubt the truth of those accounts.

That they were ruthless and violent turned out to be true, as he learned when a pack of Orcesses took him in the middle of night, pouncing on him as he slept and dragging him off to their camp. He'd roared in anger, struggled madly, and laid about him with his fists and shins. But his thickly muscled limbs had been useless against their green thews, and their bellows of triumph and raucous laughter had drowned out his cries of rage as they stripped and bound him.

The morning after his capture, the sun rose on their crude settlement to find Örek naked, hands above his head, bound to a thick wooden stake that stood in the middle of a ring of mud huts. His limbs twitched, and he muttered curses as he glowered out from beneath his short blonde hair at the Greenskins gathering about him. But he was powerless to do anything besides.

Whether their men were out raiding, or whether it was customary among Orcs for the sexes to live apart, Örek could not say. But whatever the reason, the Orcs that emerged from their huts to stand before him were females all, and he was surprised to find that they were far from ugly.

They were, of course, massive, with the smallest of them standing half a head taller than Örek. Their green skin was stretched over thick limbs that rippled with muscle, and short tusks jutted from between their lips. They were unshod, bare feet calloused and covered in dust, and their hands were of a size to wrap all the way around a man's skull--and crush it too, no doubt. In other words, they were the picture of strength and savagery.

But those lips were full and pouting, and though their limbs and trunks were thick, their hips were wide to match. Their busts were just as ample as the rest of them, and all stood before him bare-breasted, mouths quirked in hungry smiles, and wide, lustrous green eyes glimmering in the morning light. Their thick, earth-toned hair spilled over broad shoulders in sweeping waves, and some even twirled it about their fingers, standing with hips cocked like ale-hall harlots.

But these were no waifs awaiting his pleasure. Örek had felt their strength the night before, and he saw it now in their nearly-naked bodies. He knew that he was at their mercy. They knew it too, judging by the haughty looks they wore as they looked him up and down, and he began to wonder what it was they had in store for him.

If his past experience with Orcs was any indication, he could expect his fate to be cruel and drawn out. And yet, something in the way they carried themselves told him that his expectations were about to be thwarted. Something told him that these towering visions of monstrous femininity did not mean him real harm. At least not yet.

And it was at that thought, to his bewilderment, that his bare cock gave its first flutter of the day.

He was so absorbed by his assessment of his captors that he'd forgotten his nakedness. But the moment he felt the blood start to pump a little quicker between his legs, he was reminded of his state by the multiple sets of eyes that darted downwards in unison.

There were at least a dozen Orcesses watching him now, and they all began muttering amongst themselves, elbowing one another, chuckling, and offering up their own guttural equivalents of "oohs" and "ahs." And the more eagerly they expressed their approval, the more aware Örek became of his nakedness, and of the Orcs' own varying states of undress. His heart sped up and he began to recall the feel of their hands on him at the moment of his capture. He remembered of the warmth of their hulking bodies as they wrestled him into submission, and all once he realized with a downward glance that he was half-erect.

When he turned his gaze back towards the gathered Greenskins, they'd grown even more animated. They laughed openly, while some leaned forward for a better look or made wet kissing noises around their tusks with those full, pouting lips. Some made their best attempt at doe-eyes, and still others squeezed their breasts together, no doubt hoping to speed up the stiffening of his uncut cock with their lifting, bouncing, and jiggling.

It worked, and worked quickly at that.

By the time the first of them stepped out of the crowd and started towards him, hips swaying, his member stood as high as his navel.

Örek had never hardened so quickly in his life, let alone without a helping hand, but then he'd never encountered a creature like this before. The woman before him--for she was a woman, for all her strength and her size--seemed more imagined than real. She was at once terrifying and titillating. She had all the proportions and charms of a tavern wench, and radiated barbaric brutality at the same time. She came towards him like a stalking cat, hungry eyes looking him up and down like he was a meal as much as he was a man.

She locked eyes with him, looking down from her towering height to meet his gaze, and her hands slid over her breasts and down the rippling slab of her abdomen to take hold of her ragged loincloth. Örek was so absorbed by the look on her face, and by the way she licked her lips as she advanced, that he didn't even notice when she cast aside that scanty garment, leaving herself totally naked.

"You're small, Human." She said in an accent that oozed allure, for all its huskiness. "But not as small as the other Pinkskins I've met." She cocked eyebrow. "I think I may keep you. I am Warchief of these women, and it is my right."

The sound of her voice broke his stupor, and with his eyes finally freed from hers, Örek became aware of her total nakedness. He'd already had an eyeful of her mountainous breasts, but allowed himself another look, for they now hung close enough that he could reach out and touch them, were his hands not bound above his head. In spite of the the Greenskin's stony thews, in spite of the hardness of her great body, he could tell that her bust was as soft as any woman's, and his racing thoughts were suddenly subsumed by the urgent need to bury his head between her bosoms.

"It was not hard to tie you up and take you last night, Human. But you fought well, and I can see that you're not so soft as the rest of your kind. I was to cook you and feed you to my battle sisters, but I think you'd make poor eating. Your meat is too tough." She looked down again, reaching for his cock, but stopping short at the last moment.

"Too stiff."

Örek knew he should be struggling to escape. He knew that this moment might well be his last, and it would be a shameful thing to meet his end drooling over his enemy like an idiot. But there was nothing for it, and he found himself staring at the thick thatch of hair that started just below her navel and covered the mound between her legs, and at the glistening green lips just barely visible there.

She was close enough to smell, and gave off rich earthy odours that made his nostrils flare and his blood pump even harder. His head swam. Thoughts of escape fled, and were replaced by a frantic need to break his bonds and lunge at the She-Orc--to hurry along what he knew must be coming.

He had to have her!

Here was a woman who was more than his equal in strength and size, who was ample in ways undreamed of, and who was a true match for a barbarian such as he.

"Come closer then!" he growled at her. "If you won't eat me, then put me to better use! Blast you, Orc, I can see that you are a woman, and more of one than I've yet tasted. Make use of me or slay me, gods damn you! I stand ready!"

"Yes, most ready." She said with a smirk, and took another step forward, reaching out at the same time to wrap her huge hand around his erection.

His breath caught, and he looked down to see that his member had almost completely disappeared in her grasp, with just the tip protruding from her fist.

The feel of her hand and its strength sent a thrill through his loins, and all at once he found himself on the brink, ready to burst just like the first time he and one of his village girls had disrobed together in the days of his youth.

"You'll have me, sure enough." She said, leaning forward to whisper in his ear, her thick tresses brushing against his reddening face. "But you will not take me, Pinksin."

"Fine then, only enough waiting! Enough--!"

Her free hand clamped over his mouth, and his nostrils filled with her scent. She leaned in until her eyes were just a hand's breadth from his own, and in them shone a mix of fury and hunger.

"Enough talk from you! We may eat you yet, if you grow tiresome."

He did not try to speak again, but the urgent need to leap forward and press himself against her huge body remained.

"Behave, and you will have us all." She said, smiling and indicating the rest of the waiting She-Orcs with a nod of her head. "We will not eat you, but we will share you. And the first taste is mine!"

She released his mouth and settled into a squat, drawing her hand over his broad chest and down his abdomen to rest on his inner thigh. His flesh tingled at the touch of her nails, and he knew that she could have his guts out with just a little more pressure. But there was nothing to be done about it, bound as he was, and so he stood there, hands over his head, and waited to see what she would do next.

She kept her eyes on his as her right hand started to move up and down his shaft. Her left hand gave his thigh a squeeze, and he was once again aware of how easily she could end him if she chose to. She knew it too, and the wry look in her eyes said as much.

While her right hand worked, her left slid away from his thigh, between his legs, and back up to take his buttock in her huge grip. He felt her fingers dig into his skin, and her eyes narrowed in approval as she squeezed. A broad smile spread across her face, baring her tusks and two rows of huge teeth. Her gaze flashed to his cock, and her eyes widened along with her smile as she gave it a few more strokes.

The sensation was unlike any Örek had felt before. Far from rough, as he'd expected, the pressure and sheer size of her grip kept him teetering on the edge of climax, and when she finally removed her hand and placed it on his other buttock, he sighed with relief. Another few strokes might well have put an end to things, and he doubted that an early finish would help his chances at survival.

Without a word, the She-Orc's mouth fell open. She paused for an instant to lock eyes with him again, batting lashes which--as he only now realized--were surprisingly thick. He stared transfixed into those wide, eager eyes, breathing hard, nigh on mad with his need have her. Then all at once she looked down, rounded her full lips, and buried his cock in her mouth.

Örek's head fell back against the wooden post and he groaned aloud. The entirety of his member was enveloped in the warmth and wetness of her mouth, and he felt her tongue pressing against the underside of his shaft as she began to move her head. At the same time, her hands clamped down on his rump, nails digging in, pulling his pelvis towards her and pressing down until her lips brushed against his scrotum.

She moved all the way up and down his length, drawing her head back until her lips locked around the very tip, then thrusting forward until he felt himself prodding the back of her mouth. When he finally looked down, she was gazing up at him with wide eyes. The hunger was still there in them, but there was earnestness to her expression that made her seem almost vulnerable. Of course she was anything but vulnerable, but her eager expression sent a thrill through him that kept him shuddering on the knife-edge of orgasm.

She did not move quickly, instead working up and down in long, luxurious movements that involved her whole upper body. Each time she leaned in, her huge breasts pressed against his thighs, and their warmth and softness seemed to add itself to the heat that was beginning to build in his pelvis.

It would not be long now, and by the way the Greenskin maintained her relentless rhythm, Örek knew that she meant to see him finish. All thoughts of holding back melted away. The tension in his abdomen slackened, and he groaned again as he awaited release.

She moved faster now, slurping, smacking, and growling with relish as she sped up. She removed her hands from his buttocks, wrapping her left around the base of his shaft, cupping and squeezing his scrotum as she thrust her face down on him over and over. With her right hand she took hold of one of her breasts while the other bounced and rocked with her frantic movement. She squeezed, digging her fingers into the yielding flesh, running her thumb and forefinger over the dark green of her nipple.

She broke eye contact, utterly focused on finishing him off. Her brow wrinkled with the effort and her face contorted into what Örek realized must be a snarl of exertion. Suddenly he was all too aware of the two tusks that flanked his throbbing member as it plunged in and out of the She-Orc's mouth, and all that talk of eating came flooding back to the fore of his mind.

But there was nothing to be done. He was bound and immobilized, and too close to finishing to care about any danger to his cock. As quickly as they came, those uneasy thoughts melted away before the sharp sensations that thrummed up and down his erection.

Then the Greenskin woman tightened her grip and sucked in her cheeks, and the sudden change in pressure tipped Örek over the precipice into release. He moaned aloud before he realized what was happening, his iron self-possession giving way as he shook under the contractions that rocked his pelvis. From his prostate all the way to the tip of his cock, he felt himself filling the Warchief's mouth, and each successive wave of climax struck harder than the last.

Her eyes went wide, and he could see her throat pumping furiously to keep up with him. But she kept her steady rhythm, even as strands of white began to ooze out between her lips to drip down down her chin. It seemed for a moment like she would swallow ever last bit of it, when all at once she jerked her head back, letting him slip out of her mouth.

Even as his member snapped back into the open air, she began to slide her hand up and down its length, and Örek gasped as his climax continued. A thick white gobbet slapped across the Orcess's face from the corner of her mouth to the middle of her brow. Another leaped out onto her neck, running down between her collarbones, and still another dribbled onto her breasts. All the while she held her mouth open, smiling wide-eyed up at the Barbarian as she squeezed out the last of his seed.

After a few moments and a few more strokes, she slowed down and released him from her grip. She looked up at him, grinning with with bestial mischief as she wiped her hand on his inner thigh, and then turned her gaze down to his rapidly softening erection. She watched until until he was fully flaccid, and then abruptly stood up and took a step back.

"Very good, Pinkskin." She said through a smile dripping with thick ropes of semen. "I think we will keep you for now." She wiped her mouth on a muscled forearm, swallowed, and turned around to the fawning women behind her. She uttered a few harsh syllables in the Orc tongue, and was answered by a chorus approving cries, equally harsh, but more than a little alluring.

Örek had forgotten all about the others in the ecstasy of the last few seconds, and suddenly he found himself blushing at his vulnerability before that leering rabble. They smiled, laughed, and leaned on each other. Some licked their lips, some batted their eyes, and some were letting their hands wander over their bare breasts and beneath their ragged loincloths. It was evident that every last one of them had enjoyed the show.

Two from among their number, who'd been busy with their hands and each other's bodies as they watched, broke away from the group. They began to approach the pole where Örek stood bound, naked, and dripping from his limp cock, and both wore looks of pure glee.

"My sisters will cut you down now." Said the Warchief between licks of her fingers. "You will eat. You will rest. You will wash. And then we will begin. I have done you a favour this day, but tomorrow you will return it--to me and to the others."

She took a step back and looked him up and down, once again giving him a full view of her own naked body. Her chest heaved, and white fluid ran between her huge breasts, down her stomach, and into the dark pubic hair between her muscled legs. Her hair was in disarray and her knees were grubby, but her smile remained as broad as ever.

"You will stay with us for a time, and if we are pleased with your work we will let you go. And if you try to run, Pinkskin--"

A wild light bloomed in her eyes and she licked her lips.

"Then I promise we will eat you."

Peals of bestial laughter rose from behind the towering Greenskin, and she joined her sisters in their mirth, breasts shaking as she threw her head back.

Örek knew that she meant it, but only smiled and shook his head. He was their prisoner, sure enough, but he could think of far worse captors. The terms of his release were clear, and something told him that they intended to abide by them.

And they were reasonable terms indeed.