The Exile’s Path, Chapter 01

The Exile’s Path, Chapter 01 - Life Lost, Life Gained

She had seen many seasons, her black hair was silvered with age, wrinkles creasing the corners of her nose, mouth and eyes, but an orc did not reach Tula’s age, especially in the wildness of the eastern reaches, by being stupid. She was still formidable - her numerous scars spoke to many a struggle survived while her pronounced musculature told any threat that she could survive many more. Naked, but for the wooden spear she had crafted, tip blackened by fire, Tula stalked through the rainforest, pushing her way south towards the shores of the Darksea and away from her former tribe’s lands.

Tula - the name was a title too. Exile. The result of a mistake that had cost her the leadership of her tribe and all the accoutrements of that life. She had once been Trabba of the Redtooth, but now she was clanless, having banished herself from the lands of which she was once master. She looked down at her chest, at the bone piercing she bore through the nipple of her left breast; the only memento of her past life the tribe had left her with. The tip of an ancestor’s tusk, the piercing served as a reminder of the clan she had let down. The plain ornament was a far cry from the golden rings she had once borne upon her ample bosom - it was no mark of honour or high stature, but a symbol of her disgrace.

The exile had stopped only briefly on her journey south to hunt and rest and now, five days after her banishment, she could smell the Darksea through the trees ahead of her. She could also smell smoke, carrying with it the hint of cooking fish. Her stomach rumbled. She was hungry.

Reld turned the spitted fish fillet over and watched as the flames of his campfire licked its untouched side. It was midday and he had paused his fishing to make land and sate his hunger. Not many fishermen out of Bal’s Post had the nerve to cast their nets on the far side of the lake; the threat of running into the wild orcs that inhabited the woods was too great, to say nothing of the other, even more bestial denizens of the eastern reaches. The best spots closer to the town had been claimed, however, and Reld was too young to vie for one of the premium locations against the older, more experienced fishermen. His father had been one of them, but, upon his death, he could only leave his boat, nets and house to his son - fishing territory could not be inherited and his had been quickly snapped up by those more senior to his son.

Still, Reld had his longknife and trusted his youthful ears. The rest of his catch was still in the boat, only a few yards away, and the lad reckoned he could make the dash to his craft before any trouble could reach him. He was caught completely unawares when Tula spoke from behind him.

“I request passage on your boat, fisherman.”

Reld started forward, knocked his spit from the rock it rested upon with his leg. His lunch fell into the fire. He jumped from the log he was sitting on, turning and scrambling backwards while fumbling for his knife.

“I mean you no harm, human,” said Tula, watching the panicked boy calmly. “I simply seek passage across the water.”

Reld stared wide-eyed at the orc before him, taking in her scarred, bare skin, her long, silver hair, her toned muscles and the fact that she wasn’t stabbing him with the spear she was leaning on.

 “Uh, what?” he stuttered.

“I have no gold to pay for passage, but I can service you as recompense,” explained Tula.

“Y-you wa-want to be m-my s-servant?”

Tula sighed. She wondered if she should have announced her presence before getting so close to the lad, but then she would have run the risk of him fleeing to his boat. “No, boy, you may mount me.”

“Wha-what?”

“I shall let you mate with me if you give me passage across the lake,” said the orc, rolling her eyes.

The young fisherman ran his gaze over Tula’s body. She was certainly appealing - her toned form, her large breasts, her shapely waist and legs and her noble, attractive visage (despite her grim expression) all combined to create a flutter of arousal in his loins, but the lad knew he had more fishing to do that day. He could not cut his work short to act as a ferryman, tempting older orc woman or not. Besides, the older greenskin was clearly down on her luck, with nothing but a primitive wooden spear to her name, and his father had not raised him to take advantage of those experiencing hard times.

“I can’t,” said Reld, gathering his wits as his instincts grasped the concept that he wasn’t about to be spitted like his burning lunch. “I have more fishing to do today. I won’t be returning until this evening.”

“I can wait,” stated Tula. “I do not mind.”

“Uh, okay,” said Reld, getting to his feet and brushing the sand off his tunic and shorts. He bent over to retrieve his burnt fish and scraped it off the stick. “I’m going to cook up another fish. Would you, uh, like some...?”

“No,” said Tula. She had journeyed to other settlements before and knew how trading worked. If she offered to service him now, in exchange for food, then he may not be in the mood later on in exchange for passage across the water.

“You sure?” said Reld, retrieving another fish from his boat. He flopped it down on a rock and deftly gutted and filleted it.

Tula sat down a short distance from the fire and watched the youth skewer his new lunch. The smell of cooking meat wafted into her nose. Her stomach rumbled hungrily, but she said nothing, even once the boy’s meal was ready and he tore a piece of flesh off and took a bite.

“Come on,” said Reld, holding the skewer out towards his audience. He felt awkward eating his meal while the attractive orc sat watching.

“I cannot pay,” said Tula. The fish smelled delicious.

“You don’t have to,” laughed Reld. “I’m sharing my lunch with you, is all. You don’t have to ‘pay’ me to take you across the lake, either. I’ll be heading that way anyway and an extra passenger is no trouble, if you’re willing to wait for me to finish checking my nets.”

She couldn’t resist the boy’s offer. Tula took the skewer from Reld’s hand and tore a chunk of meat from it. “Thank you.”

“My name is Reld,” said the youth, seeking to make small talk as they ate. “What’s yours?”

“You may call me Tula.”

“Where are you heading?” asked Reld.

“Away from the forest,” replied Tula.

“That’s not really a destination,” chuckled the fisherman. “Where are you going?”

The orc grunted gruffly and chewed her mouthful. The boy’s question had brought back the memory of her dishonour and of her current, depressing situation. “I do not wish to talk about it.”

“Okay,” said Reld placatingly. The pair finished their lunch in quiet.

Once their meal was complete, Reld stood and kicked sand over his small fire. As he turned to head down to the boat, he found Tula standing in his way. The orc calmly looked him in the eye and reached down to grab his crotch, cupping his package through the cloth of his shorts.

“Woah!” exclaimed the startled fisherman. “No need for that! I don’t mind helping you out!”

Tula looked at the youth appraisingly. “If you will not accept it in trade, then consider it a gift. I do not like having to accept charity. If you would permit me to service you, my dignity would remain intact.”

Reld’s brow furrowed as he tried to wrangle an understanding of the orc’s sense of honour. Despite his befuddlement, he could not deny that the older woman’s gentle massage of his nethers and her curvy, ripe, naked body was having a pronounced effect on his cock.

“Uh, now, look here…” he began, his words trailing off as Tula kneeled before him and undid the drawstring of his canvas pants.

“I understand,” said Tula, pausing with her hands on the waistband of the youth’s shorts. “I am too old. You do not find my body appealing.”

“Thuh- No- That’s not what I meant!” babbled the young man. He looked down to see Tula looking up at him, an eyebrow raised and a faint smirk playing around the corner of her lips.

“Do you not want to mount me?” said Tula, sliding the man’s shorts down. His cocked bobbed upwards, swollen and stiff with arousal.

“I… I’m trying to be polite hereahhh…” sighed Reld. Tula had unceremoniously taken his shaft into her mouth even as he spoke. “Oh! You -ah!- don’t mmmneed to -haa!- do this!”

The mature woman paused her deft slurping and pulled the fisherman’s spit-slick member from her mouth. “I, too, am being polite,” she explained, casually tugging on Reld’s phallus as she spoke. “Let us agree that you have fulfilled the demands of your human politeness. Now let me do mine.”

She released his dick and turned around, presenting her pussy to the lad. “Besides, the orc way is not without benefit for the one who is being polite. Fuck me.”

Reld could see a sheen of moist arousal glazing Tula’s cunt-lips. With a hapless shrug, he pulled his shorts off and knelt behind Tula’s offered cunny. “Well… if this is cultural…” he murmured, brushing her drooling cock-hole with his engorged glans. “I guess it would be rude to refuse…”

“It would,” growled Tula, pushing back against the hard breeding-pole probing her cunt. Reld was far from under-endowed, but Tula’s fuck-hole was accustomed to her former clan warriors’ girthy organs and easily devoured the youth’s shaft. She clenched the powerful muscles of her haunches on the human’s tumescent fuck-meat. Behind her, his hands clenching her muscled asscheeks firmly, Reld grunted in delight at the orc’s flexing twat.

Despite being somewhat smaller than an orc male’s weighty cock, Tula’s nose still wrinkled in a grimace of pleasure as Reld’s tool filled her. Like the rest of her kind, she had a healthy appetite for a good rutting and the lad’s penis was certainly up to the task. She let out a quiet, throaty growl as Reld began to buck his hips.

“Shit -ah- that feels -uh- fucking good!” grunted Reld, picking up speed until his hips and thighs were slamming against Tula’s, causing her butt to jiggle and shake under the vigorous impacts.

It had been a long while since the youth’s cock had last tasted cunt juice. There were few single women in the fishing village on the outskirts of Bal’s Post - most of his generation had been levied into the Kingdom’s soldiery and the meagre income his fishing granted him was not enough to spend on the whores in the city’s taverns. Revelling in the sloppy, hot embrace of Tula’s cunny, Reld was in heaven. He leaned over the orc’s back, resting his chest against her, and reached under her to grab her wobbling tits.

Tula easily bore the boy’s weight on her back and shivered with pleasure as she felt his hands seize her pendulous breasts. With his fingers teasing her hard nipples and toying with her piercing, she pushed back against his thrusts, purring in satisfaction as the pair coupled. The obscene sounds of their mating drifted along the beach - the meaty *fwup fwup fwup* of his swinging balls slapping against her, their primal moans, grunts and pants - an animalistic chorus not out of place in their wild setting.

“I’m gonna cum!” panted Reld. Tula’s clenching cunt was too much. The feeling of her sweaty skin pressed against his chest, her cushiony buttocks bouncing against his pelvis, her heavy titties and erect nipples in his hands - it was a sensory overload.

Tula was mildly disappointed. She had been hoping to cum, herself, but, clearly, the lad needed some training if he were to satisfy her. Still, the boy’s enthusiastic humping, however brief, had been enjoyable and she was returning a favour by letting him use her cunt rather than trying to sate her own needs. She clenched her pussy firmly around Reld’s over-stimulated shaft.

“Do it, boy,” she commanded. “Fill my cunt with your seed.”

With a sigh of relief, Reld complied. Tula felt a warm surge of viscous fluid in her cunny and the male mounting her tensed, his hips pushing against her spasmodically as he inseminated her. She gently flexed her haunches and arched her back, milking the ejaculate from the boy’s twitching organ.

“Oh, wow,” groaned Reld, pulling his spent penis from Tula’s grasping quim. A thin trickle of slimy, white sperm dripped from her cunt.

“I am happy to satisfy you,” said Tula, getting to her feet while Reld wiped himself off with a rag he had tucked to his belt. “Shall we depart?”

Reld was taken aback by the orc’s quick return to matters of business. “Was that okay for you?”

“You did not make me climax, if that is what you are asking,” said Tula. “I shall help you push the boat out.”

“I’m sorry,” said Reld, feeling a little stung by the orc’s casual response.

“It is not a problem,” explained Tula, walking down to the beached boat while Reld followed, lacing up his shorts. “It was still enjoyable.”

The pair pushed the craft into the water and climbed aboard. Tula did not seemed bothered by their perfunctory mating and sat facing the youth, unfazed by semen still dribbling from her pussy, as he manned the oars and rowed them out into the lake. Reld, however, felt embarrassed by his performance. His ears grew hot and he avoided the orc’s gaze. An awkward silence hung in the air around him.

After they had reached the fisherman’s first set of nets, Tula finally broke the quiet. “You are ashamed?”

“Well…” mumbled Reld, still blushing as he turned to pull in his net, “I don’t like to be selfish.”

“You have not been selfish,” said Tula. “You have shared your food and given me passage across the lake.”

“No, I mean… back there… when we…”

“When you mounted me?”

“Uh, yeah,” mumbled Reld, still unaccustomed to the orc’s forthright speech.

“Why? I am happy to return a favour by letting you use my cunt.”

“But that’s not usually how I do it,” said Reld, sitting down once more and pulling the few fish the net had trapped from its tangles and tossing them into a large chest between him and the greenskin. After watching to see how the task was done, Tula joined in and pulled a few of the flopping creatures from the net.

“If you seek to improve, you must have more endurance,” said Tula. “Your cock is not as big as an orc’s, but if you take your time, you can still satisfy an orc woman.”

Reld’s face took on an even deeper shade of red at Tula’s nonchalant appraisal of his manhood. He worried that his black hair was going to combust with embarrassment.

“You can also use your hand on my clit, or make sure I have enough time to do so,” continued Tula.

“Uh, I guess I have a lot to learn,” mumbled the boy, taking up the oars once more.

“This is very true,” agreed the orc, matter-of-factly. Reld’s cheeks flushed so furiously he felt as if he could fry an egg on his face.

“So, uh, the next net’s over this way…” said Reld, hurriedly changing the topic of conversation.

The sun had just sunk below the horizon by the time the fisherman had finished checking his nets. With steady strokes, he rowed the small boat towards the western shore of the Darksea and the distant lights of Bal’s Post. Tula was impressed, despite the boy’s somewhat lacking performance on the beach; he was strong, easily propelling the craft across the water for the duration of the afternoon and evening. He seemed tired by the time they pulled up to the wooden piers of the town’s harbour, but not as much as she thought a human should have been.

The docks were bustling with other returning fisherman and various fishmongers. Located on the shore, just outside the yellow, sandstone walls of the city proper, the buildings of the harbour were mostly wooden, single-storey affairs, although a few two-storey sandstone buildings were scattered among them. Further away from the harbour stood the wooden shacks the fishermen called home. Looming above the city walls was the city’s keep, adorned with the orange banners of Tennegin. As they pulled up to the pier, a heavy-set woman, attended by a man pulling a handcart and a guard in the orange and yellow tabard of the city guard walked over to them. The newcomers gave Tula a curious glance, but made no mention of the orc’s presence.

“Productive day, Reld?” said the woman. She scrunched her nose as she peered into the chest in the middle of the young man’s boat, counting his catch.

“Good enough,” replied the youth.

“We’ll take ten today,” said the large woman.

“Ten?!” complained Reld. “But that’s half my catch!”

“War effort,” grunted the woman. “You know how it is - the Duke needs to feed his troops.”

Reld sighed as the man pulling the cart handed him a bucket and he filled it before handing it back, repeating the action until he had handed over half of his day’s labour. Once the trio had taken their share, Reld sold the rest, bar two, to the fishmonger who ran the dock he had moored at. Tula watched as the youth pocketed the pitiful few coins he received in exchange.

“That is not much reward for a day of labour.”

“Nope,” agreed Reld, picking up his bucket with its two fish. “Taxes. The King’s trying to take back Sandrest and the Dirnese are trying to stop him. Or is it the other way around this time? I dunno - there’s always some reason the duke is taking my fish.”

“That does not seem fair,” said Tula.

“Well, the duke’s soldiers keep us safe,” sighed Reld, his words lacking conviction. “Anyway, what are you going to do now?”

“I was going to keep heading west.”

“You can’t go like that,” said Reld. “It’s a warzone out there.”

“I shall buy some armour and weaponry.”

Reld shook his head. “With what money?”

“How much will it cost?” said Tula.

“I don’t know - five or six pence for a sword or axe, I suppose. Probably at least a few shillings for an iron helmet and that again for a leather jack, or thereabouts.”

“How many ‘shillings’ did you make today?”

“I didn’t,” shrugged Reld. “I made four pence. There’s twelve pence to a shilling.”

“Oh.”

The orc hid it well, but Reld could tell the information he had just revealed had depressed her. “Look, why don’t you stay at my house tonight? You can figure out what you’re going to do in the morning.”

With a downcast, vulnerable look in her eyes that Reld found strangely unsettling, Tula followed the boy through the darkening streets. A few fishermen gave the boy a wave or a nod as the pair passed them. Tula noticed all the inhabitants of the town seemed to be significantly older than her companion.

“Where are the other young people?” she queried.

“Off fighting,” said Reld. “The duke’s levied most everyone to go fight out west.”

“Why are you not fighting?”

“Because I own a house and a boat. My pa’ left them to me when he passed two years ago,” explained the boy. “I guess that makes me lucky.”

“This does not seem like a fortunate existence.”

“Well, how does it work back where you’re from?”

“Back in my tribe, we all worked for the good of the tribe,” said Tula. “You did what you could and gave what you could for the benefit of the tribe. Then the chief would make sure everyone had their needs met.”

“That seems all well and good, but what if you had a chief who was greedy or stupid?” asked Reld.

“Then a warrior would challenge them. The loser would be banished or killed.”

“That seems harsh, but fair, I suppose. Why would you want to leave that to come to a place like this?”

“I did not choose to leave,” said Tula.

There was a long silence. They reached the door of a small, single-room, wooden shack. Reld opened the door and turned to let Tula inside.

“Were you banished, Tula?” he asked softly as they stepped inside.

“Yes.”

Reld politely let the subject drop and knelt beside the fire pit, sparking it to light with a piece of flint and the back of his knife. The house was scantily furnished; a small bed lay against one wall, a table, with a few pots, bowls and pans upon it, and three chairs sat against the opposite wall. A couple of barrels sat next to the table and an iron grill lay beside the hearth. The floor was packed earth, strewn with rushes.

After sparking the fire to life, Reld walked over to the barrels and hefted one aside. He brushed aside the rushes beneath it to reveal a small hole containing a wooden box. Tula watched as he opened it and dropped his few coins into it. The lad then stood and placed his bucket of fish on the table.

“You’ll have some dinner,” he stated. The boy didn’t phrase it as a question.

“Thank you,” said Tula.

The meal was a simple affair. After filleting the fish, Reld fried them on a pan while boiling a pot of vegetables and rice. The two sat down at the table to eat.

“I’d leave if I could,” said Reld. “This isn’t much of a life, I know, but it’s a life. All I know is fishing.”

“You seem to be a capable fisherman,” agreed Tula.

“What about you?”

“I know how to hunt, but that was in the forest and I cannot return there,” said Tula. “I can fight, but I have no weapons. I find myself without purpose.”

“And you were just going to head west?”

“Yes. I thought I could find work as a mercenary, but it seems it will take much time to raise the money for equipment.”

“Well, you can stay here as long as you need,” said the lad, between the last mouthful of his supper. “It’s not much, but there’s room enough for two. Maybe you can find work down at the tavern tomorrow? People looking for extra hands on the farms or down on the docks often leave word with the innkeep.”

“I shall do that,” nodded Tula, scraping her bowl clean. Reld reached for her empty dish.

“No, let me clean up,” insisted Tula, picking up the two empty dishes and standing up. She paused. “Um. Where can I wash these?”

Reld laughed. “Here, follow me.”

He took a torch from the wall and lit it in the fire. Burning brand in hand, the fisherman led the orc outside and down to where the waters of the Darksea lapped at the shore behind the shack. In the flickering light of the torch’s flame, the two scrubbed clean their dishes and pans with a rag. With the task completed, they went back inside and Reld went back to the barrels, fishing around in one until he pulled out an old tunic, a worn pair of shorts and a well-used pair of boots.

“Here,” he said, handing them to Tula. “They probably won’t fit very well, but people won’t stare as much if you wear them.”

“I do not care if people stare,” objected Tula, refusing to take the offered clothing. “I am proud of my body.”

“Yeah, but...” said Reld, trying not to stare too hard as Tula stood with her hands on her hips, proudly displaying her assets.

“Besides, it is too hot to wear such coverings all the time,” continued Tula.

“Look, as proud as you may be, I’m not sure the guards will appreciate you walking around like that.”

“What is not to appreciate?” said Tula. Reld felt a warm, pulsing tingle in his loins as he watched the older orc heft her bountiful bosom in her hands and examine them critically. “Are my tits unpleasant to look at?”

“They’re, um, definitely not unpleasant,” stammered the boy.

“Then why should I get all hot just to hide them?”

“You might attract, er, unwanted attention,” sighed Reld. “From impolite types.”

“Then I shall beat them,” said Tula, flexing a well defined bicep.

Reld didn’t doubt the orc’s ability to deliver a sound thrashing to even the roughest denizens of Bal’s Post. He shrugged resignedly. “At least wear the shorts.”

“They are too long.”

“Fine!” he rolled his eyes, his exasperation with the stubborn orc getting the better of him. “Cut them shorter - but you can’t go walking around town with your junk hanging out like that!”

“My ‘junk’?”

“Your pussy and ass!”

Tula grinned at the boy’s exclamation. She turned around and squeezed a round, green buttock while looking over her shoulder at the despairing young man. “I never understood your human obsession with trying to conceal these things that everyone has.”

“They can be distracting!” grumbled Reld.

“Do you find my buttocks distracting?”

“Yes!”


“Very well, I shall wear these ‘shorts’,” acquiesced Tula, still smiling slyly. “Give me your knife.”

Reld watched as Tula quickly cut the knee-length shorts until each leg was no longer than the crotch. The clothes were leftovers from his younger days and he did not mind that the orc woman was butchering them - they had been destined for use as rags, anyhow. Putting the knife aside, Tula stood up and stepped into the modified pair of pants.

If anything, the sight was even more distracting than had she gone naked.

The voluptuous orc was barely able to squeeze her ample buttcheeks into the miniscule garment. The material stretched taut across her amazing ass, the modified article clinging to each cheek precariously and scandalously sinking into the cleft of her asscrack. The waistband barely rose above her mons. Altogether, the result left little to the imagination.

As he stood there gawking, the orc casually took the tunic from his hands and tried to fit it over her head. After much struggling, she gave up, sat down at the table once more and picked up the knife. With its sleeves cut off, the torso shortened until it only just covered the top of one’s chest and collar roughly cut into a large vee, the product of her endeavours was drastically different from the tunic she had begun with. Once more, Reld found himself watching with a dry mouth as Tula crammed herself into her modified outfit.

Her heavy breasts strained at the thin, confining material of the modified shirt, the outline of her nipples and her piercing plainly visible. The freshly adapted collar of Reld’s old tunic, like a master sculptor working with the finest clay, mashed her voluminous titties together to create a luscious valley of cleavage.

“You still seem distracted,” said Tula, folding her arms across her chest and looking at Reld with a raised eyebrow.

“Uh, what? No! You’re distracted!” babbled Reld.

Tula laughed. The boy’s befuddled state reminded her of the first time she had taken the youngest of her clan warriors to her bed. The young orc - Grotag had been his name - didn’t know what to do with himself, that night. She had trained him well, however, both in and out of the bedroom, and he had grown into one of the finest warriors the tribe had. She wondered, briefly, if he had fought to take the seat of chief upon her departure. It is what she would have hoped for him and the tribe.

The orc pushed the thought out of her mind. That life was long gone, if not by time or distance, by the impossibility of return. The recollection had reminded her of skill she had neglected to mention during her dinnertime conversation with the boy, however. Trabba had trained numerous warriors to be adept fighters, brave and cunning. Although she was now called Tula, the skill was still with her. She looked at the youth before her; inexperienced, but strong, kind and hard-working. Yes, she could work with this.

“Strip,” she commanded.

“Huh?” blurted Reld.

“Let us see if we can improve that endurance of yours. Strip!”

Reld did as he was told. His cock protruded, swollen and erect, between him and the former clan matriarch. Roma kneeled down before him and took hold of the bloated organ. Squeezing it firmly, she milked it from base to tip until a large bead of pre-cum oozed from its cumslit to dangle obscenely in front of her face. With her eyes locked to Reld’s in a steely gaze, she stuck out her tongue and licked the slimy discharge from his glans. The boy’s hips quivered and bucked slightly.

“No,” said Tula, pulling her lips away from Reld’s cock. “You must stay perfectly still. You do not move unless I tell you to. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am,” groaned the youth through a clenched jaw.

Tula opened her mouth again and slid her lips over the smooth head of Reld’s engorged organ. The lad’s shaft fit snugly between her tusks and she slid her tongue underneath it as she began bobbing her head back and forth, sucking gently but firmly. She worked the pink organ adroitly, her dark green lips sliding along its length, nursing it with skill borne of years of practice. Well trained muscles in her neck flexed and relaxed over and over again until the youth’s abused schlong oozed a steady stream of pre-cum into her mouth.

After a sustained period of oral attention, by the way the tumescent column of aroused flesh throbbed against her tongue, she could tell the lad was on the cusp of ejaculating. She released Reld’s organ and stood.

“Lie down on the bed,” she directed.

While Reld lay down on the bed, Tula stripped off her clothes. The young man’s bloated shaft stood straight up, glistening with her saliva. Tula moved over to the bed and climbed atop the youth, squatting over him, her pussy hovering scant inches above his breeding-pole.

“Keep your hands by your sides,” commanded the voluptuous orc. Reld nodded.

With her hands braced on her knees and her quads flexing with effort, Tula lowered herself down until her labia kissed the tip of Reld’s cock. She paused there, easily holding herself in a squat above the boy’s lap, his hungry shaft only just parting the moist lips of her cunt. She looked down at Reld. His lips were pursed, his jaw clenched, his eyes travelling the length of her body, from her cool gaze to her ample bosom to where her pussy tantalizingly caressed his dick. Tula grinned and lowered herself onto Reld’s ravenous erection.

“Alright, lad, I am going to mate with you now and you must not cum until I say so. Do you understand?”

“I don’t know if I ca-”

Reld’s objection was cut off by Tula suddenly pulling herself up and off his aching shaft. Her pussy-lips clung hungrily to his skin, leaving them slick with her juices as she withdrew until his cock was left abandoned and cooling in the night air.

“No, please, I’ll do it,” babbled Reld, desperate to experience the older woman’s exquisite snatch once more.

Smiling smugly, Tula lowered herself back down. “Very good,” she grinned. “You tell me if you feel like you are going to cum and we will pause until you calm down again.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Let us begin then.”

She had seen many years pass, but those years had been spent hunting, training and fighting - Tula was in superb shape and she put her strength to good use, rising and sliding back down the length of Reld’s phallus by the power of her legs only, her hands resting on her knees. Joined only by his cock and her cunt, Reld struggled to keep his hands by his sides as the warrior-woman fucked him. Her tits heaved, jiggling subtly at the base and peak of her up and down movement. Her eyes remained locked to his and he met her gaze, half because to look upon her toned, ripe figure, her green skin glistening slightly with sweat, would only serve to bring him closer to his threatening orgasm and half because her level, direct stare was all but hypnotic.

“So, you want to leave this place?” said Tula without breaking the steady pace of their coupling.

“Of course. It’s a shit hole. But what can I do?” replied Reld through gritted teeth.

“I can train you,” grunted Tula, her ass and thighs clenching and flexing as she worked over the boy’s cock with her cunt. “I will train you to fight and we will both leave this place and go west.”

“But we have no equipment,” groaned Reld in objection.

“Ha!” snorted Tula. “Training is not something that is easy or fast. It will take some time - I will find work and you shall continue to save up your money and we will buy equipment.”

“Why train me, though?” said Reld, sweat beading on his brow with the strain of holding back the pleasure that threatened to boil up through his cock on a wave of jism.

“Why did you help me?” replied Tula. “We both desire to get away from here. Let us achieve this goal together. It shall be may repayment for your kindness to an old, exiled orc.”

“I’m going to cum,” breathed Reld.

Tula paused, holding herself above the young man she was mounting. His penis throbbed anxiously in her pussy.

“Fight it, boy,” she encouraged him. “Take control of the pleasure and hold it back.”

Beneath her, Reld breathed heavily, his teeth bared in a grimace of determination as he fought the rising need to hose his seed into the wet sheath engulfing it. A trickle of Tula’s cunt juice, mixed with his own pre, slid down the veiny, hot skin of his shaft. His cock pulsed angrily, but he suppressed the urgent desire to unload his pent up ejaculate.

“Okay,” he panted, “I’m okay.”

“Well done,” commended Tula. She resumed her steady humping, but now moved one hand from her knee to her clit and began to massage her desperately erect nub as she fucked the boy’s straining erection.

Their steady, unhurried mating continued. Tula’s experienced cunt slid wetly along Reld’s bloated tool with tortuous slowness. With their only skin contact being the orc’s cunny grasping the slick skin of the youth’s organ, the only sound produced by their coupling was Reld’s heavy breathing and Tula’s quiet gasps as she mashed an orgasm out of her protruding pleasure button.

With a final grunt of relief, Tula climaxed. Reld watched in astonishment as a fountain of liquid sprayed from the orc woman’s cunt, splattering his chest. He felt her pussy clamp down on his entombed member, clenching and releasing in furious delight. The orc grinned ferally at him, tusks glinting ferociously in the firelight as she sprayed him with her female ejaculate.

“Fuck yesss!” snarled Tula. “That is how you service a warrior!”

Reld could only return a tight grin at the orc’s exclamation, the spasming convulsions her pussy was pummeling his cock with bringing him perilously close to his own orgasm.

“Alright, boy,” sighed Tula, finally, her own pleasure tapering off, “you may seed me.”


“Yes ma’am,” groaned Reld.

He bucked his hips. His balls heaved. His phallus pulsed. Cum surged up the well-used organ to spurt into the orc’s welcoming cunt. Wave after wave of debilitating, exquisite pleasure accompanied each blast of sloppy ejaculate that squirted into the quim enveloping his dick. Reld’s muscles tensed and he growled with satisfaction.

Tula climbed off Reld’s twitching schlong. Cum oozed in an obscene river from her twat. “Good boy,” said the orc approvingly. “You learn quickly.”

“Any time,” breathed Reld, wearily.

Tula scooped up a dollop of the lad’s seed as it escaped her cunt and licked it off her fingers before pouring water over the fire and casting the room into darkness. “We sleep now. You will need your energy tomorrow.”

The pleasantly sated youth scooted back, closer to the wall, making room for the orc. It had been a day. “Uh, Tula?”

“Yes, lad?” responded the former chief as she climbed into the bed next to the young fisherman.

“I’m glad to have met you.”

“Shush now,” said the woman, gruffly, but Reld smiled in the dark when he felt her lift his arm over her side and nestle it between her breasts.

Reld was used to waking before the sun. As the first calls of the waterfowl waltzed through the shutters of the window above the bed, he opened his eyes. Beside him, Tula still slept, her hand still holding his own to her chest. He idly caressed the thicker, nubbed skin of her nipple and gently cupped her heavy tit. Between his legs, his cock was swollen with morning need and was comfortably nestled between the orc’s round buttocks. He subtly moved his hips, enjoying the sensation of the woman’s asscrack rubbing along his bloated shaft.

The slumbering greenskin beside him grunted softly. He felt her shift her legs, parting them slightly before she pushed her ass back against his exploring cock.

“You may take me whenever you need to,” murmured the orc, moving her hand from atop Reld’s and down to his engorged organ, “but when I demand it, I expect you to make me cum.”

The woman’s fingers found his bloated phallus and skillfully guided it into her pussy. Her hole was still slick with his seed from their evening fuck and Reld sighed in pleasure as his needy tool slid smoothly into her welcoming fuck-hole with a wet slurp. She moved her hand back up to where his was squeezing her heavy titty and held it against his. With a happy grin, Reld began shunting his penis into Tula’s sloppy, slick depths.

“Go harder,” encouraged Tula. “We have things to do today. You must be quick.”

“Yes ma’am,” said Reld, swinging his leg over Tula’s. The greenskin rolled over onto her stomach and raised her ass slightly, giving the fisherman easier access and better leverage.

With quick, hard thrusts, Reld speedily fucked Tula’s cunny, pressing himself against her back and bucking his hips hungrily. Knowing that she had granted him the right to sate his need as quickly as he required, the boy humped the older woman vigorously, his pelvis smacking against her meaty ass with loud, rude slaps until her warm, buttery tunnel coaxed the jism from his balls.

Grunting like a rutting beast, Reld poured a fresh dose of semen into Tula’s pussy.

“Good,” said Tula, once the youth’s energetic spurts of cum had tapered off. “That is how a warrior does it - sometimes you must mate quickly - but if I require the same, you must service me. Do you understand?”

“Yes ma’am,” said Reld, pulling out of her cunny and climbing off the bed.

“Alright,” said Tula, “now I will put on these silly clothes and you can show me where this ‘tavern’ is.”

They ate a quick breakfast of rice porridge and were out of the shack while the sun was still only thinking about cresting the horizon. Other fishermen were emerging from their own adjacent huts and the pair joined the general procession heading towards the harbour. Reld shared morning greetings with a few of the others. A few seemed interested in his new companion, but Reld simply introduced her as a friend and Tula nodded along. There were hushed comments between some of the women and more than a few of the men’s glances lingered on Tula’s lush figure and the way it seemed to be struggling to escape the heavily modified tunic and shorts she was wearing, but the orc ignored the villager’s stares and whispers, so Reld did the same, helped in the task by the pleasant, post-coital glow he was suffused with.

Close to the waterfront, Reld indicated one of the few two-storey, stone buildings. “That’ll be the inn,” he explained. He handed her a folded leather pouch with the remains of the previous day’s fried fish. “Take this for lunch. There’s a well behind the tavern if you need a drink. I’ll see you back at the house tonight?”

“Indeed. Good hunting,” said Tula with a nod.

“You too,” smiled Reld and turned to walk down to his boat.

The tavern that occupied the bottom floor of the inn was a well lit, large space. A bar ran along one side of the room, opposite the door, and a wooden stair occupied the wall adjacent to the dark wood counter. Scattered about the center of the room was a collection of square tables and chairs, while long benches ran the length of the walls. In the corner next to the bar sat a fireplace with a metal hood - there were a couple of slumbering bodies around the fireplace, all but one of whom had spears and shields lying beside their cloak-wrapped forms. A large, brown haired man in an apron was behind the bar, wiping it down with a rag. He looked up as Tula entered.

“‘Morning. What can I do for you?”

“Greetings,” said Tula, walking up to the bar. “I seek employment. I-”

“Sorry, no work on the board,” interrupted the innkeep.

“I am strong and hard-worki-”

“Look, lady, there’s no work.”

“Surely, with the young off fighting, there is work to be had?”

“You’d think so, but no-one can afford to take on hired hands - taxes and such. Unless you’re a merc,” continued the large man, giving Tula an appraising once over, “and you’ll pardon me, but you’ve got no weapons, there’s no work.”

Tula turned and began to walk away, disappointed.

“Well…” said the barkeep.

She stopped and looked back at the rotund barman. “Yes?”

“Well, I hate to ask… and I mean no disrespect if it’s not your thing…”

“What is it?”

“I could do with another wench,” said the big man. “My boy can handle any female customers, but my only girl’s a bit swamped with all the foreign soldiers coming through these days.”

“What is a ‘wench’?” said Tula.

“Uh, really?” said the innkeeper, grinning. “A, uh, whore.”

“A whore?” asked Tula. She had heard the term before, but was unsure of what it meant.

“Yeah,” said the amazed barman. “You’d, um, serve drinks and food, but, er, mainly you’d have, ah, sex with the patrons. For money.”

Tula laughed. “People come here and pay for sex?”

“Uh, yeah, you know, often folk are far from home or deep in their cups and looking for a little companionship.”

“Why can I not walk outside and just ask a man if would pay me to mate?” said Tula, puzzled.

“Well, you’d get arrested,” explained the barman. “The guards only let whores and gigs operate out of licensed inns and taverns and, um, unless you go into the city, that’s me.”

“How well does this pay?”

“It depends on how much you want to do,” said the innkeeper, leaning on the counter, less worried that the muscled orc was going to respond with violence to his proposition. “Hand-jobs are one pence, two pence to use your mouth, three for your cunt and four for your ass. Sometimes you get some guys who want to go two at once or something like that - that’s usually one pence extra per patron.”

“This seems like easy money,” said Tula. “What do you get out of it?”

“Well, like I said, you gotta serve drinks and food while you work and, um,” the barman considered taking advantage of the naive orc, but then realised the muscled greenskin could probably snap his neck with one hand behind her back, “and I get a half cut.”

“This seems reasonable,” said Tula. “Is there anything more?”

“Not really,” shrugged the barkeep. “Sometimes I get special requests, you know, to visit a patron’s home for a party or something. The pay for those jobs is a cut above the regular stuff. It also helps to show a little skin, but I think you’ll be alright with that little number you’re wearing. Oh yeah, and I’m happy to get you a panacea if you need it, but it’s not usually necessary, and a contraceptive potion once a week, not that that’s going to be a big issue with you being an orc and all; most of my patrons are humans.”

“Very well, I shall be a wench,” announced Tula.

“Not so fast, lady,” said the big man. “I like to, um, make sure my wenches know their business before I take em on. You’re a little old, but you’ve got the body - I just don’t know if you have the ability.”

“Ha!” snorted Tula. “Fine, I shall service you.”

“Alright, girl,” said the large man, undoing his apron and tossing it onto the bar with a grin, “why don’t you come around here and show me what you can do.”

Tula walked around behind the bar while the heavy-set barkeep pulled his trousers down to his knees, exposing a fairly hefty slab of meat. The orc kneeled in front of the half-hard schlong and casually hefted it. After a few expert tugs, the organ inflated to full extension.

“You’re pretty good with that hand,” breathed the innkeep. “Let’s try that mouth out now. Oh yeah, the name’s Danton,” he added as an afterthought, “but most call me Dan.”

“Tula,” grunted the orc, before leaning forward and taking Dan’s swollen shaft into her mouth.

With well-practiced ease, Tula fed Danton’s cock past her lips until her tusks were pressed to the skin of his abs and his large belly bumped against her forehead. Used to the girth and length of an orc penis, the orc woman could easily deep-throat the innkeeper’s human member. She licked his balls with her tongue while his shaft took up residence in her throat.

Danton’s eyes rolled back and he leaned over Tula’s head, his fingers gripping her scalp. “Ohhh shiiit,” groaned the big man. “You are gonna be popular around here!”

“‘Morning,” said a feminine voice from the stairs.

“Oh, ‘morning -ungh- Jess,” grunted Danton. “Just testing -oh!- out the new wench. That’s good, girl, you can get up now,” said the barkeep to Tula.

After pulling the innkeeper’s cock out of her mouth, Tula got to her feet. A young blonde woman, dressed in a simple, but rather revealing, short blue dress was leaning on the far end of the bar, near the stairs. She smiled at the orc.

“Looks like we’ll be working together,” said Jess.

“Jess, this is Tula,” said Danton. “Tula, this is my daughter Jessemyn.”

“Greetings,” nodded Tula.

“I’m going out to refill the water,” announced the blonde. “Don’t let pops get too carried away, Tula,” added Jess with a wave on her way out.

“Light of my life, that girl,” said Dan, smiling at his daughter’s receding figure. “Now, where were we?”

Tula pulled her shorts off over her boots and leaned on the bar.

“Oh, right!”

The orc woman felt Danton’s bulk press against her back while his spit-shone cock probed her moist folds. After sliding his blunt dickhead up and down her slit, the big man pushed into her. Tula conceded that the man’s hefty tool felt rather excellent. She grunted in satisfaction as he began bucking his hips, his hands holding her hips firmly. She clenched her tunnel down on the pleasant invader.

“Mmm, nice trick, that,” said Dan approvingly. Tula’s bountiful jugs bounced rhythmically under the large barkeep’s steady thrusts.

Contrary to Jess’ warning, Danton did not get too carried away. The big man gave Tula’s arse a hearty manhandling while he sampled her cunt, but after a few minutes of languid humping, he ceased his thrusting and slowly pulled his shaft from the orc’s grasping fuck-hole.

“That’s a good technique you’ve got there,” he commended the orc. “Nice and slick, too - although it looks like you might have had a guest already this morning, huh?” he added, looking down at the slick sheen Reld’s earlier deposit had left on his cock.

“Is that a problem?” said Tula, looking over her shoulder and giving the congenial innkeep an arch stare.

“No no no, ‘course not,” smiled Danton. “So, uh, you mind if I finish up in your ass? We always keep some oil back here behind the bar, but if that’s not your thing, that’s fine. You’ve definitely got the job if you want it.”

“You may use my ass if you wish,” said Tula, arching her back and presenting her hindquarters.

“Oh, good, I was hoping you’d say that,” said the innkeep agreeably. “It’s really quite fine.”

“Thank you,” said Tula.

“Not sure I need the lube, though,” continued the large man with a friendly, deep chuckle. “You’ve left me quite slippery.”

Nevertheless, the barman applied a healthy dose of the slick fluid to his shaft and Tula felt the blunt tool pushing at her anus a moment later. Like her other orifices, Tula’s asshole was accustomed to the presence of meaty orc cocks and, when she flexed her sphincter, Danton’s broad tool slid into her easily. The big man grunted in delight as his shaft was speedily gobbled up by the orc’s butthole until his balls came to rest against her cunt-lips.

“Damn!” he gasped, the exquisite pressure of Tula’s anal passage massaging his swollen phallus leaving him paralyzed with pleasure. “That is fantastic!”

The inn’s front door opened and Jess walked back inside carrying a large pail. She gave her father and Tula a friendly smile. “How’s the interview going?”

“Oh Jess,” groaned Danton, “Tula here is a real treat!”

“Your father seems to be enjoying himself,” remarked Tula sardonically.

Jessemyn giggled. “He hasn’t got to try out a new girl in a long time. You better tip her, pops, or I’ll tell mum on you!”

While the blonde lass carried her bucket past them, Tula looked back at Danton, who had begun to slowly piston his slick shaft in and out of her ass. “What is this about a tip?”

“Uh, just a small gratuity to get you started,” explained the barman gruffly without ceasing his steady assfucking. “Usually it’s for clothes or whatnot, but you seem dressed well enough.”

“I shall still accept it,” said Tula, pointedly. It wasn’t that she was not enjoying the big man’s cock in her ass - she was a fan of a good bit of sodomy - but money was money.

“Of course!” mumbled Danton.

The big innkeep increased his pace, his slow, long strokes transitioning into short, eager thrusts that sent ripples through Tula’s buttcheeks. The greenskin’s quim clenched in hungry sympathy as her asshole was reamed and she moved a hand down to her clitty to chase down her own orgasm as Danton humped his way towards his. Tula could feel the desperation in the large man’s firm grip on her waist and the hard, somewhat disjointed impacts of his pelvis against her ass. With fingers slick with Reld’s ejaculate that Danton’s pistoning schlong had squeezed out of her pussy, the orc viciously abused her swollen nub.

“Danton Brakiis!”

A stern, feminine voice cut through the meaty slaps of flesh on flesh and the wet slurps of a slick cock pumping in and out of a well-lubed asshole.

“What is it Victoria?!” growled Danton. “Can’t you see I’m busy here?!”

“That bar is supposed to be spotless and here I find you balls deep in an orc wench!” Tula looked over to the door behind the bar that led to the kitchen. A striking, blonde haired woman was standing in the doorway, hands on her hips. She bore a strong similarity to Jessemyn. The woman cast an apologetic look at Tula. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not your fault. My husband will take any opportunity to skip out on cleaning.”

Tula couldn’t respond - she was cumming too hard. A spurt of fluid gushed from between her fingers to splatter the flagstones between her feet. Her cunt spasmed in pleasure. Her ass gripped Danton’s cock like a vice. With a loud exhalation, the innkeeper's cock erupted, spewing forth a torrent of hot cream into Tula’s bowels.

Danton squished Tula’s ass against his crotch, holding her against him as his cum-hose poured his ejaculate into her. The big man grunted, his hips bucking, as he emptied his balls.

“If you are quite finished, you layabout, I expect the floor and the bar to be shining!” exhorted Victoria before turning on her heel and slamming the kitchen door closed.

As she shuddered through the aftershocks of her climax, Tula noticed a few of the once-slumbering figures by the fire had been roused by the loud conversation and were now propping themselves up, watching the theatrical display with wry grins on their faces.

“I’m sorry about that, Tula,” said Danton apologetically as he pulled his spent member from her sphincter with a vulgar squelch. “Now you just need to meet my son and you’ll have met the whole family. Anyhow, I daresay you’ve got the job if you want it. You certainly know how to take a cock.”

Tula straightened herself. She could feel the barkeep’s slimy discharge squished between her asscheeks, but she ignored it and pulled on her shorts. “There is no need to apologize. My ‘tip’ if you will.”

“Right-o,” said Danton, pulling up his trousers and pulling his coin purse off his belt. The big man counted out four coins and handed them over to the orc. “Well, you can work whenever you want, but the best times are after the end of the morning guard shift at lunch time and in the evenings when the fishing boats come in.”

“This is good to know,” replied Tula with a nod of thanks. “I shall return at noon.”

“Great!” smiled Danton.

“Do you know where I could find a smith?” she asked the jovial barkeep.

“Sure!” replied her new boss. “There’s one just down the street past the well. Can’t miss it.”

Once out on the street, her first coins in her hand, Tula felt satisfied - she was on her way to forging a new life. Her path to the blacksmith led her past the inn’s kitchen. She could hear Danton’s and Victoria’s voice through the windows.

“... a bit dour, but damned if she can’t handle a cock!” said the deep-voiced innkeeper.

“That’s nice, hon,” came his wife’s reply, her dismissive tone hinting at a lifetime of listening to and tuning out her husband’s rambling.

“Bah!” retorted Danton. “A good investment, that one! You’ll see!”