Kidnapped by mercenaries, sold to orcs, forced to find pleasure in pain. For the haughty young Countess Llora Ledwa, her ordeal is just beginning.
She finds herself a slave to Mog, the would be orc king, a savior to the defeated knight Conner, and an object of ridicule to the aging and cruel current king.
Now her body is no longer hers. Forced to obey under threat of the magical, electrified obedience sticks, Llora soon finds herself slipping deeper and deeper in debauchery.
Her only hope is a fellow slave, a young peasant turned knight. But can he save her before the orcs’ constant attention on her cunt, ass, and breasts turns Llora the Countess into Llora the Depraved?
Warning! This story contains 5,701 words including m/f orc sex, bondage, piercings, punishment, a forced anal orgasm, and a reluctant young countess and is for adults only!
“They are not for breaking. They are for fucking,” Mog insisted, his jaw tight.
Ironskull laughed in his face. “Watch and learn from a warrior, turnip trader.”
Llora should have expected it. Should have been prepared, but she was too busy just trying to breathe as she crouched on her hands her knees sucking in great lungfuls of air.
So when Ironskull’s cane found the entrance to her ass she shouldn’t have screamed, or thrown her entire body back in shock, somehow impaling herself further on the magical rod.
Electricity ate at her flesh, it tore through her ass and surged into places that she could not name.
Llora had never been so violated.
Or so wet.
Something inside her just broke. Her eyes rolled back in her head, every muscle in her body tensed. A primal scream of pleasure pierced the silence of the room.
And they all saw it. All those orcs who wanted nothing more than to fuck her. Some of them even had there hands under their loincloths, stroking their cocks.
The countess was gone, replaced by whatever Llora had become. She didn’t know herself, only that there was an ache inside her that only that cane could satisfy.
Her body moved on its own, pressing her breasts to the ground and raising her ass into the air.
Ironskull went deeper. Harder. Her ass clung to the piece of bone, squeezing it, soaking up every last tendril of pain.
Llora’s body convulsed. It bucked, then bucked again. The cane was fucking her.
“Yes!” she screamed, gurgling.
Her orgasm came like a thunderbolt.
About Jane Amber
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Published September 26, 2012
Erotica, Literature & Fiction.