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CHAPTER ONE
The wagon wheels churned the dust, saturating the warm spring air. The dust was everywhere. It obscured Gillian’s vision as she watched the last rays of sun peek over the nearest mountain range before they disappeared and cast everything into semi-darkness. During the day, she had welcomed the sight of random patches of yellowed grass because they had broken the monotony of the dust, but the day had been so hot. In the gathering darkness, she relished the soothing sensation provided by the cooled breeze. It was like having an ice cube melt on her skin after incurring a bad burn. Catching a second wind, she picked up her gait to keep pace with the caravan and continued to move steadily onward.
She had paid for the privilege to travel with the caravan; however, she had not had much to spare, so she walked alongside the wagons instead of rode in them. It really had not even mattered to Gillian where the caravan was headed. The only thing that mattered was that she had finally made the decision to strike out on her own to escape her previous life. That is, her parents had been swindlers. They had made a living out of ripping people off, pick pocketing, and generally taking whatever they could lay their hands on. Every so often, their deception had been discovered too soon—before they had a chance to skip town—and so they were always just managing to evade arrest. Gillian did not think their luck would last forever and she had wanted out before the law caught up with them and took her down too.
Her drunken mother had made it easier for Gillian to leave. If she ever so much as looked at her mother the wrong way, by the end of the night, Gillian would have a swollen cheek, a bloody nose, and a little less self-esteem. But now
that she was of age, the last time her mother had struck her had truly been the last. Gillian had put up with her mother’s slurs her entire life. Slurs that pierced deeper than her mother’s fists could ever penetrate. But no more.
Before leaving, Gillian had had the presence of mind to grab a few items of clothing and to snatch all the coin her parents had acquired, but had somehow managed not to spend. She knew she had left her parents in a sorry state, but it was gratifying considering all that her parents had put her through. She only wished she had thought to take some food with her. After paying her fare, she had little money left to speak of and she was quickly learning that folk in the caravan did not readily warm to strangers.
Gillian’s bitter reminiscence was cut short when the caravan guards gave the order to begin setting camp for the evening. On either side of her, torches were lit, tents began to be unloaded, and canopies were tied to the sides of some of the wagons. Gillian was trying to choose a spot to bed down for the night where she would not be m*****ed when she heard a horn sound in the distance. The sudden blast was repeated and then punctuated by a roar. A second later, several other roars answered the first.
Fear snaked through Gillian. It slithered up her spine and out through her fingers. It felt as if her mother had caught up with her and was about to dispense Gillian’s punishment for leaving them. With apprehension, she watched as the guards drew their swords and raised their shields. Then the sound of drums rose from the darkness and added to the cacophony.
The first creature ran at one of the guards but was promptly dispatched with a sword through his belly. The gush of blood that spurted from his body looked almost black in the torchlight. Then more figures appeared from the shadows and fell against the guards like ocean waves crashing against cliffs. Every creature that came forth was repelled and stabbed. Arrows punctured their shoulders and shields bashed their skulls. But the brutish creatures remained undaunted and continued their assault on the guards until the dirt was rich with their blood.
The caravan did not have a lot of guards hired to protect it, but Gillian could tell that each guard had seen their share of battle. Based on their skill, she guessed it was not the first time they had had to protect a caravan from these creatures.
Gillian crouched behind a wagon and peered into the chaos. She could not see clearly as dust had further clouded the air due to kicking feet and newly-made corpses hitting the ground. She now saw that some guards also lay s**ttered and still amongst the bodies of the creatures. They lay twisted and strange, having been cleaved with axes or stuck with spears. But more creatures kept running and leaping from the dust and the darkness.
All around, she heard the clangs of axe against shield and sword, and the squishing noise of blunt objects pummeling into flesh. Everywhere bodies were torn and blood-spattered and still there were the roars—the roars that stole bravery only to replace it with a lurching fear of death.
The battle continued for what seemed like hours, but in actuality, could not have lasted for longer than twenty minutes. Eventually the roars quieted and new attackers failed to materialize. The pandemonium yielded to the relative silence of wind and dust. But the silence did not bring back the calm.

Gillian was still shaken even after the sun had passed four times since the attack. It occurred to her that, before embarking on her journey, she had heard rumors of caravans being attacked by hulking b**st men called Orcs. The rumors spoke of how they would kill every last person and ransack what remained. But such ideas had been frivolous in Gillian’s world. She had been lost in a c***dhood made of her mother’s fists and spite, her father’s disregard. Even had she taken the rumors seriously, Gillian realized she would have made the same decision to leave. The chance to earn a new life had just been too great an opportunity to ignore.
As she followed the wagon-worn path, she noticed one of the lookouts near the front signaling the group. Gillian’s eyes squinted against the setting sun in an effort to distinguish what the guard had seen ahead: it appeared there were cliffs in the distance jutting forth from the mountainside. As the caravan grew nearer, she caught sight of a narrow passage that led within the jagged walls of one of the cliffs—a channel that looked just wide enough for the wagons to pass through in single file. She noticed that the passage itself was somewhat hidden and protected. Dead trees stood framing the entrance, evoking large skeleton hands; their white bark looked like weathered bone, picked clean and cracked.
Upon further inspection, Gillian noticed that the passage opened into a room of rock. It was as if the room had been scooped from the mountainside with an enormous hand. There was no ceiling, just walls that stretched high toward the darkening sky. From Gillian’s vantage, she imagined that if a bird flying directly toward the cliffs saw the entrance and the room behind it from above, the room would be in the shape of a half circle—like the sun falling behind the horizon. She imagined the room must be large enough to house a small army. The boulders and crags surrounding the entrance would provide much needed shelter. This was where they would make camp for the night.


Gillian awoke in a cold sweat, distressed by yet another nightmare. She had seen the wooden paddle in her mother’s fist grow larger in her vision as it slammed into her cheek, only to vanish into nothing but air. The black of night now filled her sight instead, affecting for her a sort of pseudo blindness, while the moisture that hung in the air further dampened and chilled her skin. The camp was quiet as everyone took full advantage of their rest after enduring the previous day’s grueling pace. The guards had pushed everyone hard in an attempt to subvert another attack by reaching the safety of the cavern. Gillian had even discovered through eavesdropping that the rock room had been used by some of the guards while providing protection for other caravans.
Sitting in the darkness, Gillian had to remind herself that she felt safe within the rock walls with the wagons circled around. It was the first night within the passage and the first night that Gillian felt relatively secure since the attack. But it seemed even here she could not escape from her mother completely. Even exhaustion was not enough to ward off the nightmares. Rather, it seemed the opposite was true—that being exhausted made her even more susceptible to experiencing the vicious dreams. Reticent to close her eyes and return to her mother, Gillian fought to stay awake and to distract herself with thoughts of the present instead.
It was then that she heard rustling in the dry shrubs just outside the entrance. At first Gillian thought the wind had picked up, but then the disturbance was coupled with the sound of crunching grass and the snap of a brittle twig. Some a****l was outside the wall—a boar or a coyote, maybe. A bear? Then the thought of those creatures coming back for them entered her mind. Please let it be a bear. The sound of heavy feet hitting the hard-packed earth outside the passage caused her to nearly stop breathing. But she sighed in relief when she heard the deep pant of what must surely be a bear. She thought the bear must be curious about the new scents in his territory, or perhaps he was just scrounging for berries.
Out of nowhere, a pebble fell from above, bounced off the wall, and landed right next to Gillian’s head. Another plopped on the ground near the closest wagon. It was then that Gillian felt the first icy tendrils of doubt and foreboding course through her veins. Pebbles began to slide and to break from the walls all around. They echoed as they bounced off the embankment, falling like rain drops to wedge in the dirt. Then the sound of a fluid being poured on the ground outside the camp further toyed with Gillian’s anxiety. A moment later, an orange glow and a searing heat enveloped the entrance. People startled awake as fingers of flame crept up the walls of the cliff. Even the skeleton trees outside were blazing, like burning hands of a demon.
She knew they were trapped, but not everyone else had reached that conclusion yet. Some people ran around in confusion, desperately searching for an escape. Others chose to huddle behind their wagons and in their tents. Gillian saw her own terror mirrored in the face of a man crouching a foot away from her.
“They’ve come back for us.” The man looked crazed, his eyes darting around seeing everything and nothing. “We’re all gonna die!”Gillian stared in horror as an arrow tip popped through the man’s chin. It splayed his throat wide and spattered the dirt with his hot blood. Gillian followed the path the arrow had taken and caught sight of a ring of the creatures, braced high above on the ridge, raining arrows and spears down upon the camp. She watched in a daze as the fire caused their shadows to jump and dance like devils against the rock walls behind them. Her body numb, she could not seem to make herself move.
CHAPTER TWO
Gillian took in the scene as she became the center of a macabre masterpiece; the blood of her traveling companions painted the tents, wagons, and rocks all around her. As she surveyed the carnage, it gradually registered in her mind that the arrows were not random as she had first assumed. Instead, from the number of skewered guards, she gathered that the shots were focused and precise.
Gillian snapped back to the present and ducked inside the nearest tent. Hearing the guards and the men scream in agony as their bodies were gored intensified her dread as she cowered beneath the thin canvas. Then the roars issued forth, bellowing rich and deep. They filled the cavern and sent chills down Gillian’s spine. She knew the ambush had escalated into a battle when she finally heard the dissonance of weapons clanging against one another. The b**st men gathered and got louder outside the tent. Gillian was surprised there was anyone left to fight them.
Then a spear shot through the canvas sheeting of the tent and pierced the ground next to Gillian’s left knee. The spear had sunk in deep, but with some effort, she managed to pry it loose from the dirt. Shaking slightly, she held the pointy end toward the tent flap. Spear in hand, she told herself she was a viper poised to strike its prey dead. Her heart was pounding inside her chest, but she fought to maintain control of her mind. She kept her plan simple: stick anything that comes at you.
Gillian’s hands strangled the spear as a shape came hurtling toward the tent—a shape that was far too large to belong to a human. With each step, the footfalls grew heavier as the monster closed in on her. Rage seared through Gillian’s body, heating her blood. She yelled as loud as she could as the b**st tore into the tent. But it stopped dead short as she jabbed forward and stuck the creature in its chest. The spear jutted through its back and out the other side. In shock, the thing released a screeching, guttural howl and Gillian could see jagged teeth and dual tusks protruding past its lower jaw. She watched as drool seeped from its lips and dribbled down onto the spear. Then she noticed a copper smell that swelled and filled the air within the tent.
The creature reached for her. Its large hands tried to grab at her and pull her close. Blood squirted from its back and spilled from its chest as it struggled. Through sheer will, the creature managed to slide its body farther down the spear, closer to Gillian. Despite its injury, she knew she would not last if the creature managed to lock her in its grasp. Her eyes searched for anything she could use against her attacker.
As she hunted for a make-shift weapon, a guard fell through the wall of the tent. He lay at Gillian’s feet twitching and choking. She noticed an arrow was lodged in his neck and immediately knew that he was not long for life. Then her sight rested on his sword, still grasped in his hand. Bracing the spear with her left arm, she reached for the guard’s sword with her right and pulled it toward herself. Then, with all the force she could muster, Gillian drove the sword into the b**st’s eye, puncturing through to the other side of its skull. Finally spent, the brute’s head and arms went limp and dangled as she shoved its body to the ground with the spear still protruding.
Gillian became detached from her surroundings as she gazed at the creature lying before her. Her hands still shaking, she struggled to hold the sword steady as it dripped with the blood of her fallen adversary. She examined the corpse: gray skin, pointed ears, solid muscles; it was larger than any human. It had greasy black hair and dark eyes with pupils like elongated diamonds. She had never seen anything like it. She was captivated by the body she had delivered to death.
In spite of herself, her attention was drawn back to the brute’s muscles. She was completely awed by them. Gillian thought they looked as if they could have been hewn from steel. She considered how powerful this creature must have been and decided to count herself blessed that she had been lucky enough to surprise him with her spear.
Gillian stood and stepped over the body to lift the flap and peek outside. More b**st men, armed with axes and hammers, were now entering the camp by leaping through the fire at the entrance. One of them stood out amongst the rest because he was so much larger than the others. His roars were deep and they reverberated off of the surrounding rock walls. Gillian saw that he wore no chest or shoulder armor and thought he must be confident in his ability to avoid injury. Either that or he did it to inspire fear in his enemies.
She marveled at how his chest bulged with meaty muscle, and at the red and white war paint that covered his flat stomach and traced paths up around his nipples. As he fought, she watched as a thin sheen of sweat polished his skin. Gillian thought he clearly thrived on the frenetic energy of battle as he looked to be entirely within his element. She could not help but notice how a few drops of his sweat slid down his bare chest and wet a curling trail of hair that led down past his heavy belt.
Gillian sucked in her breath. She lowered the tent flap and closed her eyes, but she could not seem to shed the arousal she had experienced. Peeking through the flap a second time,she allowed her eyes to explore the b**st man again and her legs quivered in response.
His hair was dark and unkempt and it lay wild around his shoulders and fell down his back in a mane. She noticed that his war paint also marked his gray face. It lined his eyes and spattered his squished nose. Then she saw him snarl. Her attention now drawn to his mouth, she saw that the canine teeth in his lower jaw were large enough to graze his upper lip. She absently touched her fingertips to her own lips.
Gillian stood transfixed as he gripped the necks of two guards, one in each hand with his arms outstretched and the guards’ feet dangling. Another guard was latched around his neck and thrashing while trying to strangle him. Gillian admired his calm. She could not look away as his biceps tensed and he squeezed the necks of both the guards. The snapping sound that preceded the loll of their heads seemed to echo off the walls and to hang in the air.
Without missing a beat, he then threw both bodies to the ground and bucked his head back into the third guard’s face. His slick hair followed the path of his head. Then, in one sweeping movement, he grabbed a fallen axe from the ground, turned and plucked the third guard up by his armor, and brought the axe blade crashing into the guard’s skull. The sudden blow froze the guard’s last expression into one of surprise as his blood spilled unhindered from his head, eyes, and mouth.
Her eyes wide, Gillian watched the b**st man dump the guard’s limp body with the previous two, forming a small pile made of the guard and his fallen comrades. Then the b**st raised his fists toward the sky and bellowed, reveling in his victory.Gillian broke from her trance to discover that a garden of corpses now decorated the cavern. Severed limbs like weeds were s**ttered here and there. With the guards and the men mostly slain, she contemplated the odds of escaping, but saw that the flames at the entrance still licked up higher than she stood tall with no end to their fervor. An occasional arrow or spear still rained down from the ridge, but she could tell the deluge was nearly spent.
As Gillian scanned the human debris for survivors, a horrifying realization began to dawn on her: the women were still alive. To have survived the onslaught, they would have had to have been deliberately avoided as targets. She saw that women were being herded and bound in a group on the far wall and her fears were confirmed.
The din of battle had died down as Gillian hesitantly stepped from the torn tent. It was useless to hide. She could hear the screams of women who were discovered in the tents and wagons and watched as they were d**g away, some by their hair. It seemed the b**st men had little patience for hide and seek. She knew those women were only prolonging the inevitable.
Gillian waited to be rounded up with the others. She listened as the last agonizing whimpers of the men were silenced with axes as the creatures walked amongst the dead and dying. Doubt once again gripped her and despair weakened her legs. She remembered that she still clutched the sword in her right hand and so she leaned on it for support. The gravity of the situation was beginning to sink in when she felt something wrench her arm. Instantly fueled by panic, she twisted around and brought her sword, as an extension of her arm, to bear against whatever it was that had grabbed her.A gray hand caught her sword by the blade, causing a trickle of blood to drip down the attached arm. There was anger in the resultant growl and it sent shivers through Gillian’s chest. She watched as the gray-skinned creature jerked the sword out of her grasp and threw it aside. He then latched onto her arm and turned so abruptly to head toward where the other women were being kept that Gillian trailed behind and even tripped over her feet to keep pace with him. Every time she stumbled, he yanked her with increasing irritation and force. Gillian’s breathing quickened with fear at the rough treatment and she worried that this was just a taste of what was to come.
Crossing the enclosure, the grayskin pulled Gillian through mud thick with the blood and remains of the fallen guards and men. He did not permit her to slow as they passed the lifeless forms, but she twisted to look despite him. They had all been strangers to her. As Gillian grew closer to the far wall, she could hear that some women were quietly weeping while others were openly wailing, but Gillian’s eyes remained dry. She reminded herself that the men had died trying to protect the caravan and that meant they had also died trying to protect her. She mentally gathered the snatches of faces that she had seen and decided to commit them to memory. It was the least she could do.
At the far wall, the grayskin shoved Gillian in with the other women. They were being bound by their hands and gathered into groups of six to eight with a separate length of rope for each group. Then they sat tethered, each woman linked to another in a chain. When Gillian’s turn came, the moment the rope met her skin she knew immediately that the prickly texture would rub her skin raw if she struggled. Her wrists secured, she was then joined to a line of six other women. Sitting in the group, she could feel the lustful eyes of the orcs appreciating her assets and she struggled not to crumble under the weight of the attention.
Her thoughts were interrupted when the grayskin from before drew near. Gillian recognized the red and white paint trailing around his pectoral muscles. As he moved through the crowd, his companions gave way. He halted when he stood facing the spoils of the ambush. Unable to take her eyes from him, she watched his lips as a sneer formed when he observed the other women.
“Unimpressive. Is this all we got?”
As he said it, his eyes locked onto Gillian and never left. Yellow, panther-like eyes pierced into her and held her captive in his gaze. It felt as if he could peer into her soul and see all of her secrets. The quiver in her legs returned, and embarrassed, she dropped her eyes to the ground. When she dared to look back up, she caught him exploring her body all the way down to her ankles, then to her face again. So direct was his gaze that her undergarments became damp. He grunted as if in response and her chest fluttered. Having forgotten to breathe, she inhaled.
The painted grayskin kept his eyes on Gillian while another of the b**sts addressed the group of women in a voice that sounded more bear-like than man: “As long as you obey, we will not kill you. If you try to run, you will regret it. Do not become more trouble than you are worth.”
Then Gillian saw strips of leather being lowered over the eyes of the other women. She searched frantically for the one who had looked into her but he had disappeared—he was nowhere. The crowd was cheering and their roars clamored against the walls. Then a cover slipped over her eyes and all went black. There was nothing but the din, the discomfort of the rope, and a musky, wild scent of bear or man that combined with the heavy, metallic smell of the wasted caravan.
CHAPTER THREE
Gillian trudged along rugged terrain. The blindfold she wore was so tight it felt as if creases would be left on her cheeks if it ever came off. When it came off. The mask was beginning to feel like a second skin. As she speculated about where the orcs were taking her, she struggled to place her feet carefully one after the other. Occasionally she would trip over the uneven ground or an unexpected boulder. Every time she tripped, the orc that held her lead would pull firmly on the rope and yell at her to pick her feet up. It seemed to Gillian that they had been traveling for miles. Her feet would not stop throbbing and every so often her legs would spasm. Blisters had even formed on her toes and on the soles of her feet; they rubbed painfully with every step she took.
Every now and then one of the orcs would get close to Gillian as she walked. The one currently next to her was close enough for her to feel his hot breath on her skin. She heard a sharp intake of air and knew he had found her scent. Then out of nowhere, his hand grabbed her bottom and squeezed. Alarmed, she twisted and squirmed out of his grasp while she struggled not to lose her footing.
“Keep moving!” The orc leading Gillian yanked extra hard on the rope and caused the binding around her wrists to tighten and burn. The injustice of it reminded her of her parents and she kicked the ground. She did not want to think of them. Instead, she decided to lose herself in her own footfalls as they beat an uneven rhythm in the dirt.
Over time, the parched earth Gillian trampled gave way to dew-covered grass. The soft blades brushed against her skin and tickled her calves. Even the air around her moistened by degrees. It condensed and dampened her blindfold. Little by little, she could feel the cool comfort of this new climate ease away some of her tension. She thought if she could lose herself in her new surroundings, she could almost leave the women, thoughts of her mother, and the b**st men all behind.
Then Gillian ran into the woman in front of her and discovered that everyone’s progress had come to a grinding halt. Disquiet settled around her as the tension returned. Have we arrived? She turned her head toward the sound of footsteps as they grew heavier the closer they came. Suddenly her blindfold was removed and a bright light flooded her vision. It burned into her eyes and sent a dull pain chasing around inside her skull. She sealed her eyes shut to block out the pain and shaded them with her hands until her vision could adjust.
Finally daring a peek, she began to take in the lushness of her environment. There was nothing but green as far as her eyes could see. No skeleton trees, no dry shrubs. She had never dreamed of such beauty and almost forgot that she was a captive until her guard barked an order.
“We eat then we press on!”
Although still linked with the rest of her group, when given the opportunity to sit, Gillian welcomed it and settled onto a carpet of soft moss. From there, she openly observed the grayskins. When she saw them removing large bird carcasses from woven sacks, she realized they must have been hunting as they traveled. She watched as some of the b**st men separated themselves into work details.
To her surprise, Gillian found that she was impressed by the level of cooperation she saw between the gray-skinned orcs. Some orcs felled trees and chopped the wood into kindling, while others made the pits and got the fires started. Still others loaded the meat onto skewers and began to roast it over the fires, turning the meat at regular intervals. It seemed all of them had a role and performed it without question.
In no time, the orcs had several fires smoking pounds of meat and they made it look seamless. Once cooked, the meat was divvied and distributed first amongst the orcs (and more to some than others from the looks of it). Gillian watched as every leg, wing, and breast claimed was ripped and shredded by jagged teeth and large tusks. The grayskins ate like starving wolves biting into their first catch after suffering a hard winter.
A smaller orc caught Gillian’s attention. He had snatched some extra meat even though he already had plenty. Then a larger b**st snagged it from him with a heavy back-handed blow to the smaller orc’s face. The smaller orc was thrown back a good two feet and decided not to push his luck. He backed away from the larger orc and went to sit by himself near a tree stump. So the bigger ones get more privileges. It occurred to Gillian that the information might later prove useful. She stored it away in her memory before turning her attention toward the women surrounding her.
Some of the women were still crying and others were scowling, but many just looked dazed with their heads bowed and their stares fixed on the grass. Without exception, they looked exhausted and were covered in dirt. No one smiled. Gillian did not need a mirror to know that she fit right in with them. She told herself that the sooner she accepted this was her life, the sooner she could find a way to improve it.
“Does anyone know where they’re taking us?”The question had been whispered by a girl that looked similar in age to Gillian. She looked as if she was fresh out of her family’s home, like Gillian, but she seemed more innocent for having lived the same eighteen years or so.
“Anyone?”
Reluctantly, Gillian answered. “No.”
Still tethered to the line, the girl did her best to scoot closer so she could sit near Gillian. Gillian’s eyebrows lifted. She immediately regretted having spoken to the girl and told herself that she probably would have sat next to anyone who had responded.
“Do you think anyone will come for us?”
Gillian sighed. “I hope so.”
“What are they going to do to us? Why keep us alive like this?”
Gillian’s mind responded but nothing crossed her lips. Her voice had been silenced by her fear. She thought the manner in which the b**sts had handled her was evidence enough of what to expect from them, but she was not about to share her suspicions with this girl. Maybe she hasn’t been touched yet.
“I don’t know what to do.”
Gillian shook her head. “Try not to think about it.”
The girl seemed to pick up on the finality in Gillian’s tone and she remained quiet for a while. Then, seeing that no one else wanted to talk, she tried again. “My name’s Trish. What’s yours?”
Gillian took a deep breath and looked into the girls face a second time. Other than her small frame, she was Gillian’s opposite through and through. She had a light dusting of freckles across her nose, sun-kissed blonde hair, and the widest blue eyes Gillian had ever seen. Gillian knew the girl would have a load of trouble in store for her, yet she seemed so hopeful in spite of her predicament. She decided to take pity on her. “It’s Gillian.”
Trish smiled. Apparently comforted to have made a friend, she sat quietly next to Gillian and they shared a silence with one another like a secret all their own.
Not much later, one of the grayskins approached holding a burlap sack. When he stood near, he dropped the sack at Gillian’s feet. The savory smell of roasted bird tugged at her senses. Feeling her stomach rumble, she realized she had not eaten since yesterday’s dinner in the camp.
“Eat.”
The women eyed the orc as he made his retreat. Once he was far enough away that he could not snatch the offering back, a number of women dug into the sack and wrenched out pieces of the meat. With furtive glances toward the orcs, they consumed the food with more civility than the b**sts around them.
“At least it’s cooked.”
Gillian was beginning to appreciate Trish’s optimism. Such things did not come easily to Gillian. Her previous life had taught her that optimism just left room for disappointment.
She turned her attention back to the food. Despite her hunger, Gillian could not bring herself to eat. Her stomach wrestled with her head. Some nights, after her mother had knocked her around maybe a little more than usual, she did not eat for the desire would depart her. Only days later, when the need finally overtook her lack of interest for the food, would she force some cold porridge down her throat. She was still struggling with her decision when she noticed that Trish had stopped eating and was sitting watching her.
“You should eat. Who knows when we’ll stop again or how much longer we’ll be walking.”
Gillian gave Trish a sort of half smile and rummaged around in the sack. It was not as if she could just recapture her desire for food and force it back into her body. She knew from experience that it was a process for her to reclaim some modicum of emotional balance and it usually took time. Worrying her fingers at the frayed edges of the burlap sack, she looked around for a distraction.
It was then that Gillian noticed one of the grayskins was staring at her as he ate. She could not help but wonder how long he had been studying her. She returned his gaze as he chewed his meat, his eyes never leaving hers. As he took another chunk of his meal, he tore into it like a predator savoring the spoils of a fresh kill. Unease crept through her once more. She watched as he rose, with the meat still clasped firmly in his hand, and approached her with determination. As he closed the gap between them, she recognized the red war paint on his face and chest, the hard muscles that seemed to flex as he grew near. His distinctive yellow eyes with their diamond-shaped pupils were unmistakable.
Gillian’s unease faded and was replaced with curiosity. When the grayskin was standing right in front of her, he stepped over the other women, kneeled at her side, and stared into her with his penetrating eyes. She was not sure if it was anger she saw in them or craving. The thought sent tremors through her chest and shoulders. He chomped another bite out of his food while eyeing her over. Then he raised the drumstick and held it a few inches in front of her lips in offering. She knew that with each bite he had marked the meat with his saliva, but her hunger had suddenly become so heavy that it did not matter.
Gillian’s mouth watered. She could see that the meat dripped with juice and she yearned to taste all of it. Her hands still bound, her fingernails raked her left thigh; all of a sudden she could barely hold herself back. She stared at the temptation held in the grayskin’s fist, then looked up into his wolfish eyes. He still wore the same look and she realized he was daring her to take a bite. He wanted her to partake of a meal that was rightfully his—a meal that he had the power to give or take from her as he saw fit.
Her eyes on his, she accepted his challenge. She pulled her lips back and sank her teeth into the offering, letting the juice from the roast run down her chin. Breathing hard, her eyes closed and her head fell back as she chewed the meat. She felt an almost immediate alleviation of the ache that her hunger had left within her.
Pleased, the grayskin turned the drumstick to offer Gillian access to more. With each bite she took, she knew she was trading something to him in return—a promise perhaps—but she did not care. She was consumed by hunger and felt as if she could not get enough. She wildly bit down again and again until only scraps of meat hung from the bone.
A little while later Gillian realized that, in her zeal, she had finished the offering too soon. She sat back on her heels in disappointment. Then, looking around her, she felt a sudden twinge of embarrassment when she realized that she had eaten with such abandon in front of so many strangers.
Appraising Gillian with a look of satisfaction, the grayskin stood and walked back to where he had been sitting.Without taking his eyes from her, he reclined and proceeded to finish the rest of his feast.
Gillian looked at her hands. Hunger had unexpectedly scorched her insides like fire burns through paper. She reached for the burlap sack and lay claim to a remaining breast and wing. This time she ate her food with awkward, measured bites. But as she ate, she discovered that these pieces did not satisfy her in the same way that eating the grayskin’s meal had. She closed her eyes as she ate and imagined that he was still kneeling next to her, that he was still feeding her.
In no time Gillian’s hunger was satiated. She looked down at the wing she still held and grudgingly returned it to the sack. In consolation, she sat licking the juice from her fingers and turned her focus once more toward the painted grayskin.
She found that his stare lingered while his meal did not. Gillian averted her eyes but discovered that, even while looking away, she could feel the weight of his gaze upon her. Somehow his attention was becoming comfortable, like a shield. Everything was going to be ok. She had told herself that when she had first left her parents, but this was the first time she began to believe it.
Despite that Gillian was still bound and linked, she felt a little less afraid when the orc holding her lead urged her to stand. All around, she could see the orcs were breaking their temporary camp and readying the group to move on. Using their weapons, they spread dirt across the fires and killed the flames. She watched the uneaten meat get discarded into the grass, but she already knew it would not go to waste. In roughly ten minutes, the party was set to leave.The orcs holding the ropes approached the women and began to cover their eyes with the leather. Soon, a grayskin approached Gillian and a blindfold again switched the daylight to an artificial night. The smell of the pigskin returned and the knot was secure against her hair when she felt a tug and was compelled forward by her wrists. As she again placed one foot in front of the other, it occurred to her that this time it would be easier to trip over grass rather than rocks and twigs.
CHAPTER FOUR
Gillian could smell smoke on the wind as it mussed her hair and caressed her cheeks. The moisture in the air had not changed, but the temperature had dropped. She thought either the weather had gotten a little worse or the sun was descending. Either way, she realized her mind had escaped in pockets of time so that she had not felt the full impact of walking the entire day. But now she noticed the feeling of wet grass against her calves had vanished, and she seemed to be heading toward a deep rumbling noise that grew louder the closer she came. With each step, she felt her chest grow tense with apprehension.
Finally Gillian felt the lead go slack and she came to a halt in what she assumed was a clearing. From above, she heard another horn blast and an orc’s gruff voice shout, “Open the gates!”
Gillian heard metal hinges creak and felt a gust of heated air blow into her face as heavy wooden doors swung open before her. She was again tugged forward. The smell of burning wood was stronger here and it mingled with the scent of sweat. She could feel a tide of muscled bodies jostling around her and knew she was surrounded by grayskins. A mixture of cackles, grunts, cheers, and heavy breathing engulfed her. Large hands grabbed at her limbs and torso. Different faces—some pointed, others stubby—pressed against her neck and her hair as she felt these strangers take in her scent.
Her body seemed to betray her then as adrenaline began to course through her veins. It caused her to tremble uncontrollably. For a moment, she considered the possibility that she might be the only woman in a sea of orcs. The thought terrified her. She knew what was about to happen and wanted as little attention on her as possible. Then she heard the crowd hush as the massive voice of an orc to her right rose above the din.
“My brothers! I, Gomdrok Thundereye, and my raiding party have returned with women!”
Roars and cheers erupted everywhere at once and Gillian was shoved back to make room for Gomdrok as he swept through to the center of the crowd. There, he continued.
“It has been long since clan Deathfang took our females and murdered them: the coward’s way to wipe out any rival clan. They thought they could destroy us by ensuring we have no offspring. They thought we would grow old and our clan—our future—would die with us. But today, we spit on their graves. We will cheat death with this prize!”
Gillian tried to slow the pounding of her heart as more cheers radiated through the gathering and crashed against the walls of the enclosure. Gomdrok was building the orcs to a frenzy. She could hear him beat his fists on his chest plate as he bellowed above the crowd.
“Now brothers! Let us partake in the spoils of our raid!”
The volume of the crowd swelled and surged forth to break against all reason. Any creature for miles would flee from the cries of these b**sts, yet Gillian could not. With the leather still covering her eyes, all she had was the sound. The roars resonated throughout her perception and deafened everything until she could barely think. Unable to cover her ears with her hands, still bound and sore from the ropes, she tucked one of her ears down to her shoulder in an effort to shelter it.But she could not hide from the sounds of her companions. Their cries and whimpers found her ears through the flood of orc voices and reminded her that she was not alone. But no sooner had Gillian begun to feel tied to these women through their shared experience, but they were taken from her. As each was claimed, it was as if they were being whisked away by giant birds in every direction, their cries growing distant as they disappeared. Others remained and she heard their garments being wrenched and torn from their bodies and imagined giant talons shredding their clothing as easily as a knife slices through butter.
It’s happening.
With her eyes still covered by the blindfold, Gillian could almost imagine she was invisible. She huddled close to the ground and listened to the deep inhales and vigorous exhales of the women. It occurred to her that she could not tell if these were sounds of fear, weeping…or pleasure. The strangeness of the thought captured her attention and then overpowered her to the point of obsession. She had to see what was going on around her.
In an attempt to loosen her blindfold, she shook her head. In the process she also managed to shake her torso—a feat she would have been unable to accomplish if the rope was still secured as tightly as it had been before. She tugged at her binding and discovered little resistance.
Hope replaced her fear as she lifted her bound wrists to her face. She inched a finger under her blindfold and scooted the leather strip upward. It clung to the imprint it had made on her face from wearing it for most of the day, but she managed to free one eye from the cover and expose it to the light of the fires.In the glow, she could barely make out the pale skin of one of the women. She was on her hands and knees in the dirt of the clearing and her clothing hung from her shoulders and hips in long, tattered strips. Gillian saw that the woman’s eyes were scrunched tightly closed and her teeth were bared as a hefty orc gripped her by the hips and thrust his pelvis into her from behind.
Out of nowhere, hands grabbed Gillian by the nape of her neck and forced her body to the ground. She struggled to sit, but the force of the impact knocked the air from her lungs and she lay gasping for air instead. Just as she caught her breath, pain lanced through her head and she was pulled from the ground by her hair. Then she was led like a dog as the orc in front of her walked, pulling her hair like a leash. Despite herself, her body had no choice but to obey as the sensation of needles boring into her scalp was unendurable otherwise. She heard herself scream before she was thrown against the clay wall of one of their structures. There she was turned and held.
Gillian struggled to see what held her with the one eye she had managed to partially uncover. She strained her head to the side to get a better view and saw that the thing had fierce orange eyes with no hint of the diamond pupils she had found safety in earlier. Instead, with just a glance from this creature’s cold, vicious eyes, she could feel his disdain and knew he wished to degrade her.
“My kind will hunt you down for what you did. You won’t get away with this.”
Gillian fought back her rising panic. She knew this monster was an orc but he seemed different than the rest. His skin was gray but there was a green hue to it and he had a bald head and pointed ears. His ears stood out from the side of his skull like bat wings. His nose extended from his face and the point of it stretched his nostrils open as if the tip of his nose was repulsed by the face it was attached to. When he sneered, she saw rotting teeth that, when paired with his distinctive pointed chin, gave the impression of a jackal. He was small in stature, smaller than her even, and he was hunched like a poor, old crone. In fact, everything about this angular creature proclaimed him to be closer to a goblin than an orc, with the exception of his strength.
His clawed hands gripped Gillian’s throat like a vice. He did not tighten his grip, but maintained it so that she would know he was the one in control. He tore the blindfold the rest of the way off her head, then leaned in close and smelled her cheek. His black tongue darted out and slipped across the side of her face. It felt like a slug making a slime trail, while the stench of his breath reminded her of a dead possum. The repulsive tongue then slid higher to encircle her ear as his claws gripped her dress at the collar.
“What is one caravan? No one is coming for you, sweetling.”
He anchored her dress at the top with one hand while he snagged the thin fabric and tugged with the other. Gillian could tell that the creature enjoyed her trepidation as the stitches began to pop. As easily as tearing through paper, he pulled at her coarse brown dress until it gave way. Listening to her dress rip, she remembered taking it from her mother before fleeing and she thought of the flogging she would receive if her mother could see the dress in its current state.
But that thought was ridiculous for it was not her mother that Gillian feared most now. What she feared was transpiring right in front of her and it seemed to only get worse. Another orc approached with a round face with stubs for ears and fuzz where his hair should be. This one had light gray skin, a stubby nose, and rotting yellow teeth that matched the color of its eyes. Its fetid lips pulled back in a grin and it snickered. The bottom of her dress was in rags. Both creatures proceeded to lick up and down her neck.
A third orc got close to her and tugged her head back by her hair. He squeezed her breast through the thin cotton of her undershirt. It was the only barrier that remained between their grubby hands and her nakedness. The three of them snarled and pressed themselves onto her, like vultures pushing their heads into carrion.
Gillian was lost. Her head was foggy. In her mind, she transported herself back to the caravan and the guards she had traveled with along the road. At least there, surrounded by humans, she had thought she was safe. But she remembered that she was still alive and those guards were cold and dead. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to settle her nerves. She knew she could get through this if she could just be anywhere in her mind but here.
CHAPTER FIVE
Gillian was still trying to mentally escape her predicament when she perceived an enormous humanoid shape growing larger as the three scavengers set to work tearing apart her clothing piece-by-piece. In a daze, she watched as the hulking shape snatched the orange-eyed goblin and launched him backward through the air only to knock into a weapon stand twenty feet away. The second orc took a punch to his stubby face and was kicked in the belly. He doubled over and crashed into a banner before he fell against the wooden structure of a nearby observation tower. Then only the third orc remained, and seeing the battle was already decided, he backed away, his hands held in surrender.
The b**st turned to face Gillian. Immediately she recognized the red and white paint that encircled his nipples and felt a twinge of relief. Her sight traveled up to take in his tangled black mane, his sharp canines and squashed nose, his diamond-shaped pupils. She looked down at herself. Her clothes were ragged like those of a beggar. Her intimate parts remained hidden, but she still felt the need to cover more. She crossed her arms to her shoulders and let her head sink to her chest. She did not want him to see her this way.
His growl broke Gillian’s concentration as did his grasp on her arm. He pulled her away from the clay wall and toward a fire pit. There, he shoved her to the ground with enough force to communicate his intent, but not so much as to hurt her. She gasped as her breathing quickened. Fear came back and made her body unstable.
With one tug of his huge hand, he ripped the rest of her ruined dress and her cotton undershirt away. At once, her voluptuous breasts were released, each slipping from the fabric in turn. It happened so fast, she seemed almost unable to comprehend what he was doing to her. But she knew there was no stopping him.
Gillian was at his mercy. Considering how he had handled the caravan guards back at the camp and then the three orc brutes just now, she knew she could not overpower him. But the way in which he exerted his claim over her made her feel desirable as well. As she sat anticipating his next move, the unknown gaped before her and she balanced on the precipice.
The orc stepped toward Gillian. His eyes narrowed and he pinched her panties at her hip and ripped them off too. Her bare ass and pussy were exposed for all to see. She was in conflict still. Confusion dominated her feelings as well as embarrassment, but then she felt something new: a craving—a pulsating hunger from within. His enormous handspropped her legs up over his shoulders without effort. As she watched him stare at her pussy, she thought the yearning in his eyes was almost tangible.
Gillian had no time to think before the orc shoved his face in close against her pussy. She tried to block his advance with her hands but he pushed them away.
“No.”
His voice asserted his claim over her, as if there had been any doubt left in Gillian’s mind. Then he clasped one hand over both her wrists and pinned them above her head. With her body restrained, he pressed his wet tongue into her folds. He caressed the nub of her clitoris and encircled it, teasing it before lapping it up. A moan escaped past her lips as she exhaled. The softness of his velvet tongue was not what she had expected.
His warm tongue made her body tremble. He released her wrists and cupped her ass with both of his strong hands and pulled her bottom off the ground and up to his face. His grip impossible to escape, he gave her no choice but to bear his lust. Despite that her hands were now free, she could not break away from him. She did not want to. With that realization, she made a choice. She decided she would not be a victim to him but would instead take pleasure in her circumstance. She would allow him to explore every part of what she had to offer. She would be coveted and enjoyed. Her fear and anxiety melted away as fervor took their place.
Gillian pushed away from the ground to get closer to the orc’s mouth. She spread her legs wider and encouraged his exploration of her vulva, now very much wet from him as well as her. He licked at the moisture and groaned as he did, letting Gillian know that he appreciated her response. She wondered how she tasted to him. Looking down, she saw him staring back at her. His eyes locked with hers, he stretched his black tongue long and began to trace her clit again. Her body writhed and her hips lifted to meet his tongue. She had never felt such ecstasy before. Wrapping his forearm around her waist, he reached up with his free hand to rub one of her breasts.
As Gillian reveled in the new freedom gained from releasing all responsibility and control of her situation, she looked around and saw familiar faces being fucked by other orcs. One woman was held above one of the orcs and he was lifting her up and down on his cock with enough impact to make her tits bounce. At the same time, another orc was making her suck him as he held her hair and pushed his cock back and forth into her mouth. Gillian watched the others as she felt her painted orc’s tongue upon her pussy. He grunted as he licked as if his appetite was insatiable. He made Gillian want more.
He stood and undid the belt around his waist, causing his leather and fur to drop to the ground. Immediately his engorged cock was released from the discarded covering and it thrust sharply toward Gillian. She could see that the tip was already wet because it glistened in the firelight. He fell upon her then with the force of a boulder descending in a landslide. Both of his knees rested on either side of her shoulders and his monstrous calves pinned her body to the ground.
His hulking cock, as gray as the rest of him, slapped onto Gillian’s face. She inhaled as she felt it slide down past her nose and across her cheek. The heady scent of his groin excited her. Once again he brought his cock up and let it smack down on her other cheek. She yearned to stretch her lips around his cock and to explore him with her tongue. She desperately wanted to find out if he tasted as good as he smelled. As his cock slid across her face, she turned and kissed the side of it. Her lips grazed against the head as it progressed out of her reach. Having caught her attention, the orc raised it away.
Gillian could not wait for his cock to come down and smack her face again. Just the thought of feeling that warm cock on her face dampened her pussy. She could feel her excitement flow from her and slick the top of her thighs. As if he could hear her thoughts, he released his cock and let it smack right in the middle of her face where it rested against her nose and lips. Then he slid it slowly down her face across her open mouth.
She ached to taste him. Her tongue came out and licked at his hardness and warmth. The spicy scent of his maleness permeated her nose. As she lapped at his cock, he let out a rapacious growl which urged her own lust on as a thrill shivered and spread from the base of her spine up through her neck.
He reached out and cupped Gillian’s head in his hand and then pulled it fully onto his cock. He stopped only when his cockhead and the top of his shaft were inside her mouth. She realized his cock was indeed immense. There would be no way for her to fit the full length of him down her throat without pressing beyond her limit. Since he stopped, she guessed that he knew. Breathing heavily, he kneaded her scalp with his fingers and waited for her to continue her ministrations. His patience was not lost on her. To reward him, she decided she would suck him until either he found satisfaction or until he could take no more.
Gillian enjoyed the way he guided her head slowly back and forth on his cock; she could tell he was holding himself back in an effort to avoid hurting her. Suddenly she wanted to suck every last drop of come from his cock. She wrapped her tongue around his head and slid it down his shaft. She just could not get enough, especially with his hands gripping her hair. The scent of his groin made what she tasted all the sweeter. She muffled a moan against him and it caused her mouth to vibrate around his dick.
As Gillian sucked, she looked up into the orc’s face. She saw a wild barbarity in his yellow eyes as he glared at her with his teeth bared. She thought the sight of her mouth around his cock must bring out some primal instinct in him that complemented her own. He threw his head back and released a roar. His body began to spasm as she felt his come spurt in hot jets onto her tongue and then slide down her throat. It tasted sweet and tangy and she did not want to waste any of it. She continued to lick and suck him until he stopped her.
He took his cock from her and stood, then lifted her to her feet and turned her to face away from him. He pushed Gillian to her knees and bent her down so that her hands rested in the grass. In this position, she could take in the orgy happening around her and knew she was equally on display. The knowledge made her pussy ache even more. She wanted desperately to be filled. It was the only thought in her head as she tipped her hips up to open herself and to provide her orc better access. She could feel her arousal slick on her legs as she waited to be taken.
Gillian felt the orc’s callused hand on her ass and the thrill as his grip tightened and he squeezed. She felt the sting of his other hand as he slapped and pinched her other cheek. As he spanked her, she thought of how much she wanted hiscock. She needed to be his. While spanking her, he stroked himself until his cock was ready once more. He squeezed her and growled, then rested his giant cock against her opening.
Gillian considered how enticing the feel of her wet mound against the throbbing head of his dick must be for him. With measured restraint, he gripped her hips for leverage and squeezed the head of his cock past her lips and into her tight pussy. He stopped when she could take no more of him, but the thrill of his cock was heightened by the sensation of his firm abs and pelvis plastered against her back and bottom. She could feel the coarse hair of his belly as it rubbed against her ass every time he rammed his powerful dick into her. Everything he did to her seemed to arouse new sensations in her body. In her blissful haze, she thought being claimed and fucked by this orc was better than anything she had yet experienced.
A moan built from deep within her belly as she rocked against the hardness of the orc’s cock. Her pleasure felt sinful but she never wanted it to stop. She met the orc’s every thrust. All of her nerve endings were alive. Her mouth open, her head thrown back, she closed her eyes to more fully experience the myriad sensations.
But with her eyes closed, Gillian found she could more easily focus on the sounds issuing from the other women. She opened her eyes to find that many of the women around her were being handled by these grayskins. Most of them had several partners even—a fate Gillian herself had only narrowly escaped.
Despite the horror she still felt at the thought of being shared, Gillian found she could not look away. Across the clearing, she caught sight of one of the women clutched by a tall orc who stood leaning against one of the walls. She watched as the woman clung to the orc’s shoulders as he thrust inside of her, her legs wrapping around his torso. As he bounced her on his dick, two other orcs stood near pleasuring her. One licked at her nipples while he fondled her breasts. The other stuck his thick fingers into her mouth and let her suck them while he stroked himself. Every so often, the second orc would whip his cock against the woman’s ass. As she began to moan, it became obvious that the orc was no longer satisfied by his hand alone. Gillian’s eyes grew wide as she watched him take hold of his thick cock and position it at the tiny pucker of the woman’s asshole. He grabbed the woman’s hip and stilled her movement, while grunting at the tall orc holding her to slow down. The first orc paused his thrusts long enough to allow the second orc a moment to maneuver his cock into her ass. Then both orcs settled into a rhythm together as they proceeded to share the woman between them.
Gillian had no idea whether the women were enjoying their treatment or not, but she spared little concern over the issue because there was nothing she could do for them. And, if she was honest with herself, she was deriving her own satisfaction from watching.
Gillian twisted her body slightly to her left to take in another sight. There she saw a heavily endowed woman sitting on an orc’s lap. She saw that the orc grinned widely while he grasped at the woman’s girth. His hands were so large, they spanned all the way around her. In fact, the orc’s body dwarfed the woman’s to the point that, by comparison, the woman looked almost delicate, like a doll. Gillian watched how easily the orc moved the woman up and down on his cock while another orc touched the woman’s pussy and pinched her nipples. The woman closed her eyes and smiled.
Gillian smiled too. She had never considered how beautiful a voluptuous woman in the throes of passion could be. She returned her attention to her own orc lover. What she had captured with her eyes as she felt him move inside of her only served to intensify her passion. It was not long until others started to gather around the two of them. She saw groups of orcs just standing around staring as her painted orc possessed her body. When she looked back at him, he looked so much larger than any of the other orcs that encircled them. And when she twisted to look back at his cock as it reappeared from her pussy between thrusts, she imagined the same could be said of that wonderful part of his anatomy as well.
Gillian could not take her eyes from his beautiful gray cock as it appeared and disappeared behind her. As she continued to meet his thrusts, sensation rippled through her body. She was surprised when she finally glanced up to discover that even more orcs had gathered around her. The look in their eyes held her as if they were waiting to lay claim to her body and could not contain themselves. She watched them drool and they growled in a way that seemed to convey their expectancy.
One orc ran up and grabbed her full tits and bounced them in his hands. Then he slapped them and watched as they jiggled. But Gillian had no time to be offended because her partner grabbed the orc by his dreadlocked ponytail and flung him against a building far to the side of the stronghold. Then two more orcs jumped into the fray. With his cock still dominating her, her orc grabbed them both, and using their own momentum, he slammed their heads into each other and tossed the orcs aside.
Seeing this, a larger orc stepped in, and holding his cock in one hand, he forced Gillian’s mouth open. She could tell that this orc actually was larger in size than her painted orc, but her orc reached over her body and punched the intruder before he could bring his cock any closer to her face. Then he grabbed the larger orc by his leather shoulder straps, and with both hands, he head butted him and sent him crashing toward the ground where he fell a few feet away. There, the large orc lay still before rising slowly and departing.
Gillian’s orc snarled and swung his fists through the air in a show to announce his claim over her as more orcs tried to get close enough to touch her. Then he pounded his fists into the ground on either side of Gillian’s hands. The impact sprayed some dirt across her breasts and sent shivers through her shoulders and down her spine.
“Mine!”
The wind carried his claim to the edge of the stronghold. It startled the group around them and gave pause to others who had initially paid them no mind. Gillian felt the ferocity of her orc’s dominance in his growl. The sound of it caused her to tremble and she moaned even louder as a result. She opened her mouth wider as she felt the tension open her body. Then the beginning of her orgasm rose from her pelvis and spread out to her edges. Even her mind felt opened as she shuddered and came on his cock.
Warmth spread outward toward Gillian’s fingers and toes and provoked an instability in her limbs. She would have collapsed if her orc had not kept her propped on her knees. As she rode out the waves of her climax, the walls of her vagina clenched his cock and milked him as he continued to pummel into her pussy. He was not finished and neither were her fans.
The painted orc again threaded his fingers through Gillian’s hair and pulled gently to keep her head up. Every one of the orcs around her was stroking themselves, eager to reach their own climaxes after seeing hers. Her orc growled; he seemed to appreciate their audience. His enthusiasm caused her arousal to build and rekindle after but a moment.
Hearing the orcs’ heavy breathing and grunting spurred Gillian’s excitement and made her body ache again. She knew how much they wanted to touch her and the knowledge revived her energy. She reared back on her knees and leaned her torso into her orc’s solid chest. In this position, her breasts were more fully on display and she began to knead and pinch them herself. She was instantly rewarded with shouts of encouragement.
Gillian’s orc appreciated her initiative as well. He snarled and raised his hands to rest lightly on hers as he massaged her breasts along with her. In this way, she guided his hands, his long fingers extending past hers. She imagined he felt ho