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Sarah's Sex Stories


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Before I discovered this forum, I wrote sex stories: some true accounts, some fantasies.

I have shared some on other forums - Literotica and Kristen's Board - but since I have now started to role play here, and some of these themes lay behind my role play fantasies, I thought it might be nice to share some here. 

I think I can add an index, as I may add more stories:

Doing it: a description of how I masturbate

Alien: I encounter an alien on an abandoned spaceship.

Edited by Sarah_1964
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Doing it:

I do it on my front.
Masturbating, that is.
I lay on my front, on my bed, naked, to masturbate.
One hand pushed under me, palm up - my right hand - under my cunt, for me to grind down on, hard. My head to one side - to my left - my cheek squashed into the mattress, my eyes closed. I do not penetrate myself, even with my own finger, I keep my hand flat, open, palm up, and I use my body to grind my cunt down on the flat of my hand as hard as I can.
It is very tiring doing it like this, because I do not move my hand or my arm. I do not use my hand to masturbate myself, instead I use my whole body to grind my cunt down as hard as I can on my hand. I used to think that I looked inelegant doing this - like a beached whale - until I saw a video my husband took, which showed me how sensually I moved - my whole body writhing, squirming, my hips rising and falling, my thighs parting and closing - surprisingly sensual. Doing it this way squashes my clitoris inside me. It takes a long time, and sometimes I do not have the energy to reach orgasm, but when I do it is intense - powerful, so that I feel how tightly my cunt clenches and ripples inside me, and my whole body snakes, and very often I cry out - sometimes quite loudly - with the power of the orgasm. But orgasms through masturbation do not sate my needs for long, so often I have to do it again - sometimes three, four or more times - until either I am sated or my body is simply too tired to do it any more.
Sometimes I fuck like this too - when I am on top, sometimes I lay as I do when orgasming, only I am on top of the naked male body under me rather than flat on the bed, and I have a cock inside me, and I grind down on the man's pubic bone instead of on my own hand, but I move as I do when masturbating - grinding myself down, hard, sliding my body up and down, and then orgasming, hard, loudly, snaking and thrashing and crying out as I do. I don't always fuck like that - nor even most often, even when I am on top - but sometimes I do, using the man's body and cock to masturbate on.
I have always done it like this, ever since I was quite young. I called it rubbing, and for many years successfully avoided admitting, even to myself, that I was really masturbating. My capacity for self deception is great, it preserves a sort of innocence, even naivete, in me, this ability to deny the undeniable - to deny the power and intensity and frequency of my need to fuck and be fucked. It is why I can talk to a man, and in my mind entertain the most vivid and extreme images and words that describe him fucking me, but my capacity for denial of the truth means the man senses none of this - no hint at all, none whatsoever, of the raw primal awesomely powerful sex and fucking that I am thinking while I talk to him, about anything but sex. It is this that I think I want to release - I do, within marriage, though not outside it - I want to release the power of my desire, to be seen as sexual, fuckable, to be seen getting fucked, to be fucked. I never do - almost never - but here, now, writing this, I am exposing this side of myself.
I used to 'rub' - masturbate - ever such a lot. At first it was only physical - the physical movements, sensations, feelings - but then as I grew older and realised - still without admitting it to myself overtly - I realised that it was to do with sex, so I started to imagine sex. I told myself that I was trying not to have these vivid sexual thoughts - but I was, of course, quite definitely, and I knew, really, that I would have them - I pretended to myself that the thoughts stole up on me, and that I couldn't help it, but that wasn't true - I would think about them, guiltily, building them up, making some kind of more or less coherent picture or scene or story in my mind, so that when I actually masturbated I knew full well that I would have those thoughts - wanted to have them, fully intended to, but pretended they somehow 'made' me think them, that I could not help it. I remember the first time I let myself imagine an actual boy - a boy I knew - as I masturbated, instead of the formless faceless men who had taken me in my dreams and fantasies until then. It was actually hard to let myself think of an actual boy - I felt so guilty, so shameful, so dirty - but when I did, I came so hard, for so long, that I knew I had found something more awesomely intense than ever. I still feel guilty when I think of actual men - even when I think of the more extreme sexual scenarios I now entertain in my mind - and the guilt, the shame, somehow make it more intense, make me cum harder.
So that is how I masturbate. On my front, naked, one hand pushed under me, grinding my cunt down, hard, my mind filled with images, feelings, words, guilt, shame, arousal. And I orgasm hard, snaking, naked, crying out, the images and feelings and words intensifying the tidal wave of orgasm as it washes through me.
That is how I masturbate.

Edited by Sarah_1964
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I wrote this after beginning to explore wilder - for me - themes in role play: here, such themes are better developed but at that time I was experimenting with forums that offered 'role play' as an option but were really little more than immediate sex chat. I think, with the orc story, it is perhaps the closest of my tales to the themes that are developed here. It is perhaps more of a beginning than a story but I enjoyed it.

The space station seems deserted: I walk carefully through it's wide empty corridors, cautiously, nervous and increasingly anxious. My shorts and t shirt leave my arms and legs bare to the cool air: my hand wipes a stray wisp of short hair from my forehead.

Behind me, silent, the alien humanoid moves: powerful, sleek, its muscle human form metallic but moving with fluid grace and evident power. Although its form is human its movement is less so: flowing, silent, stalking like a snake following its prey. Its eyes focus, scanning the corridor but resting mostly on my own petite form as I hesitantly explore the empty corridors. If you could see thorough its eyes you would see how they scan, targets focus: registering first my female form, then scanning my bare legs, my arms, the gentle curve of my breasts when I turn to the side, and the shape of my buttocks covered by the tight shorts. Its eyes linger on my shorts, roaming the tops of my bare thighs: and its silence is lifted as it breathes, audibly, a sort of hungering sigh. Its powerful body tenses, its very male penis stiffness, grows, elongated: like a snake slithering thickly but visibly thickening as it extends so that it is monstrous in it's hugeness but also disturbingly - horrifyingly - human in its reaction.

I pause, hesitant, listening: and the creatures launches itself, in a fluid motion of raw but controlled power, towards me.

The beast's movement through the air is cat like: feline grace but with the power of a tiger: but as it lands, knocking my slight body forwards, it seems to morph so that its stance is like a dog: and I, knocked to my knees under it, in the position of its bitch.

It's hands rip my clothes from me as if they were paper.

It grasps me, cupping my tits, its cock so big that it pushes between my legs from behind and nudges up at my tummy.

My struggling is futile, its strength is such that it easily overpowers me. Its enormous thick long shaft slides back and forth between my legs, like a python slithering with sinuous slick strength. The side of it pushes up at my cunt lips, separating them, pulling them back and forth with its insistent sliding. At the scent of me the beast raises it's head, sniffing at the air, and its muscled metallic body tenses, its grip tightens on my waist, its hips draw back so far that now the huge bulbous cock head nudges at me, as it tilts its head back, gathering its strength in the flexing power of its hips.

The alien is huge, its powerful body looms above mine. My soft whispers of protest are drowned by its own rising deep roar. Its massive muscles visibly ripple as it prepares to take me.

My squirming in its grip only serves to enrage it: it flexes its powerful hips, a fluid forceful motion that shoves the head of its enormous cock right into me so that I yelp, crying out, visibly shaking as it forces its way in, stretching me.
The huge cock head visibly stretches me, opening me up, as I cry out and writhe under the great beast. It forces in, deeper - an audible 'plop' as the ridge behind its helmet pops past my tigth cunt lips.

The alien hands haul me onto his throbbing shaft: forcing my cunt wide to take it, the slick metallic shaft visibly sliding in and in and in and INNNNN.
So big it makes my tummy bulge visibly: my body shivers and shudders, as it impales me, its alien need merciless, ruthless. A snaking of my body signals first intense orgasm, and provokes the beast to THRUST, embedding almost half its giant shaft in me.

The cock lodges in me, massive, thick, like a python: so hard and so strong that as it twitches it physically lifts me off the ground like a stick puppet.

The alien's hands wrap around my body: cupping my breasts, holding me upright as my own bodyweight settles me ever more firmly onto the raging erection. My arms and legs flop as he thrusts, up into me, hard and deep, ramming in to my small body, over and over again - ruthless, merciless, alien fucking - forceful, demanding, remoreseless.

The shiny metallic shaft plunges up into me, making my belly bulge: and my soft whimpers are punctuated by orgasmic groans as it drives me relentlessly to orgasm after orgasm.

My body jerks, impaled on the huge throbbing cock, orgasm shaking me over and over again. My cunt juices flow slick and fluid down the shaft, lubricating it copiously. It is hard to see now whether I am being tucked by the dock, or fucking myself on it, as my organising cunt engulfs the thick snaking pillar and my arms and legs flail: but the creature is energised - even enraged - by the tight wet clashing of my helpless cunt and it's hands grasp my small body to slam me up and down on its visibly pulsing erection.

The cock bulges my tummy, then the alien's powerful body tenses, arches back, his mouth open in a fierce fearsome roar. His hands release me but my petite body stays skewered on his shaft: he is knotting inside me, like a dog in a bitch: his cock head swelling so immense as to lock him in me so that my whole body is literally fastened to his cock. And his sexual rage takes him, rearing back and beating his chest with his fists like a huge robotic gorilla, his immense cock swaying as he does so with me impaled on it's end being swung side to side, screaming in continual orgasm.

Inside me the knotted cock throbs, stimulating the already spasming walls of my cunt, driving me into a mindless orgasming frenzy that matches the alien creature's thrashing thrusting fucking. My small tits swing, my eyes close in erotic surrender, my body is exposed with each swaying swing of the gigantic pole.

The long metallic pipe writhes, snakes, shakes my tiny body: the huge shiny balls at its root pulse and swell, readying. The beast grasps my body again, holding me down on the knot inside me.

The massive balls contract, pulsing: pumping a visible huge blob of alien cum along the flexing cock. My tummy inflates as the wave of sperm floods me, blocked inside me by the knot. The creature roars, arching back, ramming me down on himself as the cream pulses and flows in to me.

The flood of alien sperm is such as to viisbly surge and flow inside me, my belly bulging with it and visibly rippling as it spews up into me. The knotted cock holds the alien cum in me, like a cork holding in the fluid as the pressure builds. My arms and legs jerk spasmodically now, thot thrown about by the alien's thrusting but jerking as my orgasms merge into a groaning thrashing chaos. The great metallic beast shudders as he empties himself deep insside me: his roar melding with my orgasmic cries. He is nearly finsihed with me. Around the far corner of the corridor, alerted and now drawn by the unmistakable sexual sounds, huge hairy apelike forms surge....

Each pump of his cum into me makes me grunt:"UUUUNGGHH!"

Each thrust up into my spasming cunt makes my arms flop upwards.

Each downward push from his hands forces the knot deeper into me.

My face is red, my eyes wide but vacant, my tummy is distended by the pulsing flood of alien cum.

The alien's snaking cock slows, its rippling pumping pulsing flow draining the last from its massive heavy balls. For long moments my body hangs limp, impaled on the knotted pipe: then he staggers back, the long shaft unknotting, withdrawing from me in a seemingly endless slick snake of metallic flesh: and at the last, the alien sperm flows from me, spurting from my spasming cunt almost as if my whole naked pink petite body has become a cock and is cumming, fountaining creamy cum from my cunt.

Edited by Sarah_1964
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This is one of the first erotic fantasy stories I wrote that is set in a fantasy (as in fantastic) world.

It is also the sexual fantasy that eventually brought me to sex role play, and now to this forum.

I had never been a role player - in table games or on line - but have since I was young written down sexual experiences, and some fantasies, in a secret diary.

I was invited to attend a live action role play event (LARP): a big one where thousands of people dress as warriors, elves, peasants,.Lord's and ladies, knights and barbarians - and orcs - and act out epic battles and intrigues over a weekend.The event accepts all standards of dress and ability but most people wear very convincing costumes - chain mail, armour, leather, sometimes amazing dresses for the ladies - so it is very immersive. I sewed my own costume - a simple tunic - but had no time to complete the pants to go with it so ended up as a sort of miniskirt female peasant fighter with a silly short sword. I enjoyed it much more than I expected. Orcs there are perhaps the fiercest and most captivating characters: latex face masks that are indeed convincingly brutish, and act as brutish but intelligent, organised, sophisticated in their way - and to me, as a skimpily dressed female peasant fighter facing literally hordes in battle, quite surprisingly erotic in a twisted way.

At such events there are strict rules of engagement and conduct - no sex references being one - but I started to fantasize afterwards, eventually developing a vivid fantasy where somehow the pretend world became real, with me, alone trapped in it with the strange creatures. Eventually  wrote this story: then started to experiment with sex chat on line, hoping to explore the theme - but sex chat is mostly quick and dirty immediate sex and I was searching for development of character and story in greater depth. I did find a role play partner in another forum, and played out the orc fantasy with great erotic intensity: but that forum was mainly also chat, and the moderators were trolls, so I left it and found this one which is much more what I first hoped for - fantastic worlds, weird characters, odd fantasies, and development over time in some depth.

Anyway, here is my first - but I hope not last - orc fantasy as I first wrote it:


I am at the Live Action Role Play, ready, with many others, to pass through the pretend 'portal' that supposedly leads into the fantasy world of orcs and monsters. I have been shown how to 'fight' - to wield my small safe latex sword in dramatic mighty sweeps but to pull back at the last so the blow will not hurt my opponent; to make the 'kneel and raise hand' gesture that calls for a pause in the game and summons a referee; and to act as the fierce warrior I have chosen to be despite my small stature. Even so I am nervous, unsure. The portal, though pretend, is impressive: 20 feet high, realistically rock like, weirdly lit in changing green and reds with a roar of sound emanating from it. Through it, although we have to pretend not to see, the shapes of orcs in latex masks, warriors in leather armour, strange monsters, lurk and shift in the trees.

The darkening summer sky lends an eery unease: thunder rolls in the distance, clouds lower so it feels like evening. I shiver in my light home made tunic, and not only from the sudden cooling - I feel very small - very slight, very naive - alongside my companions with their realistic costumes, heavy armour and fearsome weapons.

At the signal I hold back, hesitating before hurrying to catch up with my companions as the last of them passes through the portal.

The rolling crash of sound is deafening: the portal sizzles and crackles with blinding electricity and sparks; I feel myself lifted from the ground then hurled back down again - arms flailing as my body hits the ground with an audible thud, rolling twice before coming to a stop at the edge of a circle of scorched grass.

Raising myself cautiously on my elbows, the world looks too sharp - colours too vivid, an intensity to everything that is too real to be true. My companions are nowhere to be seen: but circled around me, their looks astonished, is the most odd collection of creatures: orcs rippling with green tinged muscles, humans tall as giants with faces cruel and crude, but others portly and lordly - and all visibly shocked at what must have been my spectacular entrance.

I scramble to my feet, confused, trembling. My hand sewn tunic is too short and has ridden high up my bare thighs; a seam has ripped so that it slips baring one shoulder; but I am too stunned to do anything other than gawp open mouthed at the fearsome warriors who surround me - even as they gape just as open mouthed at me.

A big orc steps into the crcle - oddly wary considering my small size - and I realise that the nature of my appearing has left them cautious lest I weild some great power. So I crouch, in what I imagine to be a defiant fighter's pose - legs bent, feet well apart, short sword held in two hands to hide my trembling - not realising how my stance causes the tunic to ride up further, exposing even the sides of my buttocks.

The orc hesitates. His voice is a low growl but I understand his words: "what are you? who? what is your purpose here?"

Even several paces away from me his height is such that I have to look up to hold his gaze - which I do, in hopes that my own eyes will hold the steely resolve I hope they do. But I see him smile, and I realise that I am convincing no-one. I feel myself crumple inwardly, and I fight the feeling, blurting out: "oh god. oh fuck"

Then I gather myself, draw myself up to my full 5'1" height, look him straight in the eye, and try to recall the dramatic declaiming they showed me in game practice. I throw my arms wide in a theatrical gesture and shout, in what turns out to be more squeak than roar: "I COME..." but as I say it his smile widens and I forget what I was going to say, my mouth opens and closes like a stranded fish.

I hear the surrounding warriors murmur to each other, and I catch fragments of what they say: "she is a god!" - and "her name is fuck!" and I know they understand the swear words even before the great orc in front of me squints, suppressing a grin, bends his head down to look me in the eye at my own level, and laughs: "you cum..?" and he turns to the surrounding warriors, boastful and proud in his stance, grinning at each around the circle as they all nudge each other and share their guttural laughter. And I realise I have made a mis-step.

The orc steps forward, towering above me so that I have to lean back to hold his gaze - which I do, though tremblingly. His grin broadens, and with one sweep of his hand he swipes away my silly sword, leaving me unarmed. I try to remain defiant, but inside my mind races -- is this a dream? a nightmare? if I let it happen will I wake?

His huge hand reaches down, takes hold of the scruff of the neck of my tunic, lifts, hauling me off my feet so that my face is level with his, my bare legs flailing, the tunic pulled up so high that it completely uncovers my buttocks and reveals my sensible plain white panties to the gawping laughing crowd. I try to shout: "put me down, you brute!" but it comes out as a sort of squeal and he turns to his companions to acknowledge their laughter. His words are a growl, his breath warm in my face as he speaks: "such a pretty little thing...a god, then?" and he laughs, and with one hand grasps my waist and slings me over his shoulder, as one might a sack of potatoes, my head hanging down his back, my legs grasped tightly in his fist, my tunic rucked up to my waist.

His torso is bare, his muscles huge, rippling with masculine power, his skin a light tinge of green, and my face hangs against his bare back, breathing in a scent of such extreme maleness that even in this situation it is almost intoxicating. My fists hit at him but he shrugs, and his other hand - huge and flat - flicks up in a SMACK that even in this dire circumstance hurts my pride more than my body - but I stop in my struggling and surrender to being hauled away like this, like a hunter's prey.

He begins to walk, the other orcs closing in around him, my body slung carelessly over his shoulder. And his hand - the hand that slapped - stays, rests, on my buttocks, resting on the bare skin: I can feel the strength even in his hand, the sense of such awesome raw power, such strength, dormant but ready to be roused. And as he walks, I feel his thumb slip down, between my thighs, as his fingers remain on the lower curve of my buttocks. It slides, between my thighs, tickles through my soft dark curly cunt hairs, rests against the soft warnth of my cunt lips. I squirm, trying to shift away from the touch, but my wriggling only serves to increase the contact. He shifts my weight, ever so slighty, and the thumb starts to enter me- to penetrate me, to slide in to my cunt - and I realise with shame that it does so easily because my own cunt juices already lubricate its passage. It stimulates me, despite myself - even though my mind rages agaist this invasion of my body, and even more at the humiliation of this being done to me. But I cannot resist - the thumb is thick, big, long, and it fills me - fills my cunt - and I hear him grunt, and laugh, and it curls, inside me, and I am lost - my orgasm a shuddering moaning gasping surrender that does not go unnoticed. An orc walking by his side turns to him, grinning widely: "so she does cum..?" and they laugh, as do some others nearby: and the orc carrying me growls in response: "yes the god cums ... and we will see if she earns her name - fuck - soon"

The march through the forest brings us to a clearing where the company pauses, and rest their packs on the ground. My orc withdraws his thumb from my still spasming cunt, with an audible sucking sound that draws giggles from those nearby. His fingers drag my panties with them, soaked, and he flings them to the ground where a younger orc recovers them and ties them to his spear where they flutter dismally like a flag of surrender. My orc slides me down from his shoulder, but does not lower me to the ground: instead he holds me by my waist, my legs dangling, and I realise with horror that he has dropped his loincloth to reveal a raging erection of enormous size: the head already hard and shiny, domed like a helmet with a prominent ridge, and the shaft so thick that my eyes widen. His eyes burn with a raw primal fire - with animal need, with all-consuming savage lust. The cock head nuzzles up between my thighs, huge beneath my cunt as he lowers me and my arms flail as I feel it nudge and probe, teasing my soft dark curly cunt hairs, parting my soft - and shamefully wet - cunt lips, opening me up. My eyes widen in horror, pleading with him but there is nothing behind his own gaze now but lust and need. I smell it emanating from him - an awesome incredible maleness, masculine strength and power - and demand. It is overwhelming, and despite my fear it works on me so that I feel my nipples stiffen, rubbing gently at the rough material of my tunic, and my lubrication flows to ease - almost to welcome - the stretching penetration as he lowers me, so that my own bodyweight slowly impales me on the erect rock hard shaft. I feel my eyes roll back, my head flops, I jerk several times as the penetration proceeds: as I am filled full of cock.

My arms and legs hang limp and I have the strange vision of myself like a rag doll helplessly skewered on the thick stake of his cock. I am tiny compared to his towering muscled figure: his hands almost wrap right round my waist. I hear the whispers from those around us, and I know they are hushed because they are watching my small petite frame slowly but surely accept the massive orc penis - the slow but full penetration eliciting from me occasional gasps, a twitching of my limbs, a spasmodic jerking of my small body.

Finally, after what seems an age of endless stretching and filling, I feel the root of his cock press up at me and I know the penetration is complete. And so it begins - the hard deep full awesome powerful FUCKING of me.

His eyes burn but are vacant of all except the animal need to fuck: and fuck is what he does, with harsh powerful upward thrusts that make my arms and legs fly up and out like those of the floppy doll I resemble. And his thick rigidity fills and stimulates every part of my insides, driving me to a sexual intensity I have never before experienced. The fucking is focussed, driven, almost demonic, and I feel my cunt clutch and clasp at his invading violating shaft - and ripple all along it, spasming tightly as I orgasm in a thrashing flailing screaming mess.

Unbeknownst to me, the mating of orcs is brutal, animal, and swift - like the raping of a duck by the drake, more a fight than a fuck, a desperate emptying of the male's balls as deep and as fully as possible ending with no emotional connection or joy. And my orc has never impaled one so tight, nor so wet, nor so easy - and one whose cunt sucks and spasms and milks at his cock. His eyes suddenly blaze with an amazement that eclipses the unthinking animality of primal lust and burns with an almost awed orgasmic realisation and I feel his mind - for the first time in his life - join with his body in total absolute all-consuming orgasm as his cock thrusts up one more time, filling me completely, and he pumps spurt after spurt of orcish cum deep inside me. His hands slip from my waist but I am held upright by the sheer rigid strength of his erection impaling me as I thrash and flail in screaming orgasm on his pumping pulsing rod, like a stick puppet writhing and thrashing.

A chant rises, and I at first mistake it for an urging command before I realise that just as my orc has never been brought to shattering conscious orgasm in a tight human cunt before, nor have these companions witnessed a human female orgasm so intensely and loudly: "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" they chant, and as indeed we fuck - as my orc fucks me and I fuck myself on him - I realise it is my name they chant - the name they thought I gave myself, and that now they see fits me, defines me and what I do and what they will do to me. And my orgasm peaks in snaking shouting flailing total surrender.

Lowered to the ground, my orc helps me stand, holding my hand with surprising gentleness for such a massive brute - and his eyes rest on me, wonderingly, and with a desire that is sated only temporarily.

As we march onwards, there is a change in the orcs' attitude towards me: a giggling disrespect replaced by a sort of awe - but I am a captured god, not a powerful one. I am permitted to walk with them, and this world offers no sanctuary so I accept my fate. I am tiny in their midst: a slight figure, dishevelled - and pensive, thinking, absorbing the strangeness not only of my situation but of the savagery of what was done to me and of my reaction to it. The orcs emanate a maleness, a power, an intensity, that I can feel even as we simply trudge on - an intensity of which they seem unaware but that I feel as an exquisite sexual arousal that I cannot suppress, a sexual need that - like that of my orc - is sated only for now but will rise again.

There is much muttered conversation, many glances my way, often heated discussion - and not a few scuffles break out as they obviously argue about what I am and what should be done with me. Once, a young orc approaches me, tugs curiously at my tunic, but is pushed away by my orc - and I realise they must be curious still as to what is beneath my simple clothing.

The town we reach is obviously an outlier of a greater city - bustling with life but obviously not a center of government. The tavern is rowdy, raucous, with a wide arena in its main room. A table to one side is dominated by an orc of impressive appearance. Unlike my companions who are in loin cloths, he is clad in armour woven of leather and metal scales, that sit on his incredibly broad shoulders to lend the appearance of solidity as much as strength - of easy confidence, of power and control. On the table is a helmet with the sketchy appearance of a dog's head. He sits very still, but his eyes scan the room - he gives the appearance somehow of world-weariness, shaped by long and arduous and brutal experiences - in my mind emerges the phrase " A dog of war" - an old solider - no, a commander - one who has seen too much and commands with easy but weary authority. My own companions mutter amongst themselves, glancing nervously his way, obviously summoning the courage to approach him - and I realise that where my companions are probably a rough band or mercenaries, here is an orc of consequence. They talk with him nervously, gesturing my way, and his eyes sweep over me, skeptically, disdainfully - but at a nod they leave him and return to where I stand, tiny and still, near the entrance.

I am shocked when two of my companion orcs take hold of my arms and usher me to the center of the arena. They seem tense, nervous, wary - and for a moment I fear that this will be a kind of gladiatorial combat - a fight, and one that I am certain to lose. Swiiftly, one moves behind me and I feel his strong hands clasp my arms, holding me still, turning me so that I face towards the warlord - the dog of war - whose eyes seem already to dismiss me as a wearisome and unpromising distraction. But his eyes hold mine - his gaze compelling mine - and I shiver as the second orc reaches for my tunic, taking hold of it nervously at first but then, at my lack of resistance, with firmer resolve. They raise my arms, and tug the simple tunic up - up my arms, and off, to be discarded to one side. There is some surprise at my plain white bra, and comical fumbling that fails to find its clasp - but I reach compliantly behind me to unclasp it for them, and shrug it forwards to reveal my small but pert breasts. Fully naked, I feel the dog of war explore my body - my firm legs, my tummy, the patch of soft dark curly cunt hair, my breasts - and I hold myself still, despite my trembling.

But my body has not been stripped only to be displayed. One of the orcs lifts me, facing him, raising me from the ground, and I again feel that male intensity and power as he positions me, and then brutally slams my body down to impale me on his raging erection.

The fucking this time is merciless - I feel that he is at first perfoming for the audience as much as for the fucking of me - but in my hyper-aroused state it brings me quickly to loud shaking orgasm, and the tight rippling of my cunt all along his shaft awakens that same shocked consciousness that my own orc showed when he fucked me, and he loses control - so that although I writhe and thrash and moan on his cock, it is he who shouts - roars - his orgasm to the rafters, he whose body shakes and shudders as he unloads his cum deep inside me, and he who groans in hepless mad thrusting - until I join him in the final wet wild loud screaming orgasmic frenzy.

The tavern is silent - stunned by the frenzied sexual display. The orc releases me and I fall, sprawling on the arena's dirt floor. I raise myself to hands and knees but before I can recover the seond orc is on me - and in me - thrusting deep and hard into me from behind, taking me, making me take it - and making me orgasm, again and again, under him, as my bare tits swing under me with each and every ruthless thrust until he too unleashes his spurting load of creamy cum inside me, and the crowd starts to applaud, slowly at first, then thunderously.

I am still shaking from the intensity of the fucking - from the power of my orgasms - when the dog of war gestures with his hand and they lead me, naked and sweaty, cum dribbling down my thighs, to his table.

His armour is open, parted - and his erection is out, exposed, huge and throbbing as he lies back in his seat. His eyes hold mine, and as they release me, I know what I have to do - what is expected of me - and I move to straddle his groin with my spread thighs....

This time it is I who take the initiative - not brazenly but without hesitation - straddling the dog of war's thighs, reaching down with one hand to grasp the gigantic thick throbbing shaft, guiding it as I postion myself. And he has eyes that do not go vacant with simple animal need - nor does his body flex in animal reflex to drive himself brutally into me - instead he lays back, a look of wariness on his face but also of anticipation. He has seen me - seen my naked body, in its tiny smooth soft perfection and also seen my orgasms - and those I provoked in the mercenary orcs - and I can feel him weighing me up, measuring me as he waits.

The cock is huge - masively erect, thick and hard as polished rock. It throbs in my hand as my small fingers wrap around it. His eyes hold mine - but mine also hold his, in a mutual challenge and a mutual anticipation. I lower myself, carefully, feeling the hard shiny head touch me, tickling at my cunt hairs before pushing gently against my wet cum-smeared cunt lips. I bite my lip, lowering myself so that he opens me up, peeling back the cunt lips, slipping wetly up into me - and I note with satisfaction that his pupils do widen as he feels how tight I am. Down further, so that the helmet opens me wide, and its ridge plops through my cunt lips into the warm wet tightness inside. And lower, so that the shaft envelops itself in my velvety wet soft tight warmth. My eyes half close, my head tilts back, I place both hands behind me on his massive strong thighs to support my body as I arch lightly back - my small pert tits stand proud, nipples siffly erect as I take his whole length. And then I ride him - my hips lowering and raising my body so that my own body weight impales me over and again on his hard long shaft - fucking myself on him, my cunt gripping him so tightly. My tiny naked body moving above his, my small tits jiggling mesmerisingly, my mouth open in a soft 'O' from which emerge quiet moans, rising in loudness as I take him in me, ride the cock, fucking myself up and down on him.

And now the tightness of me, the lewd perfect jiggling of my tits, the snaking sensuality of my bare body, provoke in him that all-consuming, savage but entirely conscious orgasm that engages his whoe body and his whole mind and his whole sexual soul so that he THRUSTS up into me with one massive flex of his powerful hips, burying himself in me so deep that I cry out - and my own body jerks, shakes, shudders, flails above him as he IMPALES me on his cock as it spurts and flows and pulses and his head goes back and his eyes are wild and his ROAR of sexual orgasm echoes through the tavern and silences the crowd in awe as my body and soul join his in unstoppable unlimited unleashed total mad crazed ORGASM.

Released, limp, I am lifted from his lap: my trembling naked body held upright by supporting orc hands. And again that low growling, stamping chant rises: “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” and I understand that I have earned my place in this world.

Edited by Sarah_1964
  • Love 2
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