“Which one is she in?” a snarling voice demands.
I can only make out dark, blurry silhouettes against the bright backlight. Two towering blobs and one much smaller and leaner dark visage.
“The far back kennel, Dorsin. The one away from the others,” one of the big blobs grumbles, pique and displeasure layered in his obedient response.
“Bring her to my office like you were told to do from the beginning,” the smaller silhouette, the one the other just called Dorsin, bellows. I automatically flinch from the exploding rage of the command.
An angry stomp of footfall starts and then quickly fades away as Dorsin’s sliver of darkness grows smaller and smaller until it’s swallowed up by the light of a long hallway. Then the two massive outlines step away from the light and begin to move through the room of cages. The brightness at their backs hides their features, but menace and fury pulse off the figures as they soundlessly make their way closer. The smell of piss suddenly permeates the room. I look and see pools form around some of the other caged and huddled beings, their fear all at once stronger than their ability to hold their bladder. The direction the two mountainous males are moving in makes my stomach drop. Terror starts to choke me, and I fight the urge to close my eyes and pretend none of this is happening.
The light at the entrance only stretches so far, and as the hulking shadows close the distance, darkness works to paint the terrifying duo before slowly revealing their features. When the dark gray skin, slitted yellow eyes, and smashed facial features become apparent, the wordorcscreams in my head. I know that’s what they are, just like I suddenly know they’re members of the Night Court and native to the lava mines. Yet amidst all that certainty, there’s still nothing but blankness when I scramble to search for anything that could explain who I am or what they want with me.
They reach for the front of my cage, and I hurry to get as far away from them as I can. Burning iron bars at my back once again immediately stop my retreat, and my pained shriek has one of the orcs humming in satisfaction as though my cry is its favorite sound in all of the realms.
“Please don’t hurt me,” I beg, my voice barely a croak, as a black key slides smoothly into the lock of my cage. With a flick of a thick wrist, the front of my enclosure swings open with a terrible weighted silence.
My gaze darts around, desperate for a path that leads to escape, or for help, but all that’s there is the cool taunt of iron and the barbarous bulk of orc. Rounded claws tip the hulking hand that reaches for me, and dread slips out of my mouth on a mewl that quickly transforms to an anguished cry as he wraps his fist in my hair and yanks me brutally out of the cage. My hands shoot to the fist in my locks, leaving me defenseless to the palm that wraps around my throat. My tormented and horror-filled sounds are cut off when the orc tightens his grip on my neck and holds me in the air like I’m nothing more than a naughtycriain need of discipline.
Hot piss runs down my leg as I claw at the choking grip on my throat.
“Your fear is making me hard, little gash,” a gravelly voice declares from behind me as the heat radiating off of him engulfs me.
The orc’s thick armor-like skin presses against my back, and a sickeningly long, wet, and warm tongue moves up my cheek. He licks the tracks of tears spilling down one side of my face and then moves to lick the other side as the orc in front of me watches with lurid excitement. The iron burns on my shoulders turn agonizing against the inferno of the orc’s skin, and black edges begin to frame my terrified, watery vision.
“Let me hear her, Ghat,” the orc at my back commands, and the hand at my throat loosens as a large arm wraps around my waist to anchor me to one of the monster’s bodies.
I wheeze and gasp, begging my lungs to fill and empty, over and over again, as pathetic whimpers pour out of me and fresh tears trail down my face.
“Please,” I implore, the single angst-laced word all my damaged throat can manage before the hand tightens around my neck in warning.
“Begging already for us is she, Eorn?” the orc at my front asks, his slitted yellow eyes raking over me with nauseating promises glowing in their depths.
He reaches for the urine-soaked hem of my shift, pulling it up with a jerk, and I explode into frenzied action. I fight and kick and scratch to get away, but the grip on my throat tightens until enclosing black threatens to take me and exhaustion weighs down every limb. My pitiful attempts to break away are useless, the orc’s hold on me certain, and I try to embrace the anger surging through me and not give in to the helplessness that’s now threatening to pull me under like an anchor.
They laugh as I impotently battle and try to keep orc hands from my hips. The arm around my abdomen tightens as the orc in front of me, Ghat, bends over. His lips split into a vicious smile. Sharp teeth gleam at me before he juts out a thick black tongue. He licks a streak of piss from my thigh, loosening his hold on my neck as he laps up another and another. I’m horrified, and disgusted, and painfully aware that each lick is getting closer and closer to parts of me I would never offer freely to a beast like him. Hysteria and horror work to take over my every thought as I desperately gasp for air now that the orc’s hold on my throat has loosened.
Ghat watches me, his salacious gaze never leaving mine as he licks the wet evidence of fear from my legs like he’s savoring it. His eyes light up at the fright and alarm in mine, and he looks down at my piss-stained underwear and then up at me like he wants there to be no doubt where this is going.
“Come, brother, you know Dorsin doesn’t like to be kept waiting. He’s already all twisted up about this little prize,” the orc at my back, Eorn, announces as he nuzzles my neck.
His breath reeks of rotten meat, and I try not to gag as another weak whimper crawls up my throat. Ghat growls irritably, but after another long revolting lick up my inner thigh, he straightens up. “Think he’ll let us play with her later?” he asks.
“I don’t think we’ll get to come to this one’s screams unless her people don’t pay up. This was a big job though. I bet he gives us a couple of the others, let us break them in before they’re sold off,” Eorn replies, a smile stretching across his horrible face.
I study the threatening gleam that grows in Ghat’s eyes at his brother’s words, then all of a sudden, his nails dig into my hip. I gasp in pain and ready myself to uselessly try to fight him off, but with a quick yank, he tears my underwear free from my body, laughing as he steps away from me. His hand drops from my throat, and he brings the crotch of the fabric he just tore from me to his mouth and starts to suck on it.
I don’t know if I want to vomit with relief that he’s no longer touching me or in revulsion at the fact that my soiled underwear is in the monster’s mouth. Eorn laughs, the grating sound wrapping around me from behind just like his massive arm is. He snickers as though he just read my thoughts and finds my repugnance amusing. His brother did just lick urine from my skin as though it were petal wine, so I doubt I’m far off. Eorn drops me down his chest, and just when I think he’s going to set me on my feet, he grinds against the bare cheeks of my ass. The leather of his pants does little to cover the feel of his hard prick against me, and I wail pitifully as I try to push out of his hold and away from the threat in his leathers.
“By the Kings, I hope they don’t pay for you. I can tell you’d be so ripe and fun. Wouldn’t you, little gash?” he asks as he and his brother start to move toward the brightly lit entrance.
Eorn takes every opportunity to continue to grind me against his dick with each step. He’s so gargantuan that my toes dangle almost three feet from the floor. His arm around me is a steel band, and there’s little I can do other than take what he’s rubbing against me as he and his brother lead me out of the room of cages. I hurry to look at the others enclosed in the iron-barred cells, to search for anything that might spark recognition, but eyes are hidden and faces are buried deep in the protective embrace of shivering arms. I can only make out dark stringy hair and other beings who look like they’re nothing more than a pile of rags and hopelessness.
“She would be fun,” Ghat agrees. “You’d bleed all over my cock and scream nice and loud, wouldn’t you, little gash?” he growls, leaning menacingly closer and then laughing when I shiver with abhorrence.
The clang of a door slides shut behind me, and I try to squint through the overwhelming brightness of the wide sandstone hallway we’re now striding through. Nothing looks familiar. The orc’s comments about “my people” don’t conjure any flashes of memory. All I can focus on is trying to ignore the vile orc’s length against my ass and the cold wetness of my shift as it clings to my upper thighs.
Ghat moves in front, checking the turns in the maze of halls and corridors as we go. Their steps are silent, which is surprising for two massive beings, and I get the impression that they don’t want anyone to see us. I have no idea why that would be, but between the stifling terror clawing through my chest, my efforts to ignore the threat pressing against my backside with every step, and the fact that I’m being taken to someone worse than these two, the question ofwhythey don’t want someone seeing them doesn’t rank high on my list of emergent worries.
Quicker than I realize, we arrive at a pair of plain white-oak double doors. Ghat bangs loudly three times, pauses, knocks once, waits a few more seconds, and then knocks one more time in some kind of code. The walls around me are large bricks of tan sandstone, and the floor is a thick slab of something else in the same color. There are no windows, but bright fairy light glows in hanging lanterns on the walls, illuminating the space as though it’s midday.
