Orc Bound Mates

Chapter Two - Part Two

“Here. This gown should fit. It was our mothers. She does not need it.” He hands it to me with a pleased smile. Orguk busies himself with the food at the fire pit. Vlorg is standing, holding his hand out to help me out of bed. Skarr lifts his head as everyone starts to flurry around but drops it back down.

“Your mother's gown? So, you’re brothers?” I ask.

“Yes. We have the same sire and mother.” Borguk replies. I nod.

Making sure that I clasp the tattered edges of my shirt together before leaving the coverage of fur, I accept his offered hand. Climbing out of bed, he doesn’t let go of my hand, and I don’t pull mine from his gentle grasp. I take this moment to enjoy the warmth of his skin against mine, appreciating the soft contact. I’m surprised the texture is not as leathery as I imagined but warm and supple over sturdy muscle. Standing next to him makes me feel even smaller than usual. He must be over six and a half feet tall and built like a brick house; I barely reach his chest. Which draws my attention to the thick shining silver bars pierced through each of his n*****s; I look away quickly, a little too hot under the collar. Sinful thoughts of pinching, licking, and sucking on the bars more than I can manage with him so close.

He leads me fifteen feet to another door on this end of the Longhouse; before opening it for me and showing me inside. The walls are consistent throughout, with the stone bottom topped with thick wood logs curving upward to a center point. Hanging from the ceiling in multiple spots are fist-sized crystals that emit a crisp white light, illuminating the whole space. It’s a large room with a deep pool of steaming water in the back, taking up more than half the room. Inside the oversized tub are more crystals embedded in the solid stone floor, lighting the water from underneath. Along the walls edging the pool are shelves with more crystals of light, bottles of liquid, and several scrubbies that look like loofahs. On either side of the door are Orc-sized benches to sit on and a couple of baskets to toss dirty clothes in.

“Soiled clothes in the basket. Drying furs on that shelf.” He gestures to a stack of white furs to the right, stacked neatly in a cubby. “Use what you want. Take your time. Call out if you need anything.” He turns to leave.

“Thank you, Vlorg,” I say a little shyly; not my norm, but again, nothing about this night has gone according to expectation. Plus, good manners have been ingrained in my soul when I’m not in raging b***h mode. Which I try not to let happen too often. He dips his head with a grunt before leaving and pulling the door closed behind him.

Taking a deep breath, I strip off the torn mess that is my work clothes. I’m not sure if they’re worth saving, so I drop them next to the bin to toss out when I finish bathing. I unclip and slip my bra off, letting the heft of my boobs hang free of restraint. I toss it into the basket before stepping out of my panties and throwing them in too. I reach up to check the state my abundant strawberry blonde hair is in and groan at the tangled mess of mud and debris. I gingerly tug the tie out of my messy bun and let the heavy locks fall to my hips. Looping the tie around my wrist, I step over to the pool's edge. Tentatively I dip my toes in to feel the temperature before groaning with the satisfaction that the water is just the right amount of scalding. The warmth sends a shiver up my spine in anticipation of the hot bath.

I walk in deeper; the bathing area is like a pool back home. Steps lead into the shallow part before it slopes down into deeper water. At the deepest part, the water laps at my chin, which is nice as I lean my head back into the liquid and float along the surface. The hot dip into the water relaxes all the soreness in my muscles. Wading to one side of the pool, I draw myself upright and reach for a loofah. I sniff it, worried it would stink, but a robust masculine scent tickles my nose. I inhale it again, enjoying the fragrant aroma of the Orcs.

I pluck a bottle off the shelf, sniffing it; lavender hits my nose, and I put it back on the shelf. No flower scents for me; lavender makes my nose itch. I grab the next one, pleased that this one smells like lemongrass and basil. Taking my bounty to the shallow end of the bathing pool, I deposit them on the ledge. Leaning forward, I let the heft of my hair create a veil over my face. With most of the bulk in the water, I comb my fingers through the thick locks, doing my best to dislodge most of the mess before applying soap.

Straining my ears, I can hear the Orcs moving about the Longhouse on the other side of the bathing room door. Images of the big Orcs busting through the entrance, hard and hungry, flash through my mind, and heat floods my slit again.

You f*****g unhinged hormones! Quit running wild with perverse Orc-ish fantasies.

I groan at myself, grabbing the bottle I picked out and pouring some liquid over my head. After thoroughly scrubbing the soap into my hair, I notice it doesn't lather into subs like my shampoo at home does, but it cleans the same. Relieved, I dunk my head under the surface, rinsing my hair before lifting and flipping it over my shoulder.

I pour more of the liquid on the loofa and work it over every inch of my body, scrubbing away all the horrible encounters of this night from my skin. The rough surface stings my minor cuts and bruises, but I don’t let that stop me. I finish quickly, immersing the loofah in the water and shaking it out before setting it back onto the shelf with the bottle. I drop back into the deeper part of the pool, rubbing my hands over my skin and wiping away the lingering cleaning liquid.

The tightness in my abdomen is not fading, and my p***y is still throbbing with heat, n*****s hard and straining; I huff out in frustration. Floating on my back in the pool again, I reach down between my thighs, fingers brushing over swollen, sensitive lips. I bite my bottom lip to keep from moaning at the light touch and press between the folds to circle my c**t. My breath hitches in my chest as fire flashes hotter in my belly.

My body jerks in pleasure as I roll the little nub between my legs with one hand while my other hand pinches a hard n****e. I gasp at the electricity that sizzles through my limbs before the current settles in my core. My orgasm is mounting fast, my imagination dancing with the sexy Orcs. With a firm pinch on my n****e and faster strokes to my c**t, I see stars behind my closed eyes. The moan catches in my throat as my body jerks hard at the intensity of it, trying to waterboard myself in the process. Drifting back down from the high of my climax, I get out of the pool and grab two drying furs.

Next time, I better not masturbate in the deep end. It would be ironic to die by drowning after everything I survived today.

Drying myself with the pelt, I worry that stray hairs will cling to my skin by the end, but the fur is thick and absorbent, leaving nothing behind. I rub the fur through my hair, hoping to pull some of the moisture from the thick bundle. I toss the hide into the basket before grabbing the gown Borguk gave me to wear for the night. Holding the dress in front of me by the collar, I look over the garment. The shift is barely a slip of fabric, near sheer. But with little else to wear, I pull the gown over my head and slip my arms through the short sleeves. The material feels silky as it caresses my skin; shuddering at my fingers ghosting along my curves, I pull my bottom lip between my teeth. Hair sufficiently dry, I collect the heft of it back into a messy bun and tie the band from my wrist around it, securing it in place.

Taking a deep breath to study myself, I head out of the bathing room in nothing but the simple gown. Before I can close the door behind me, three sets of eyes focus on my body. The intensity of their gazes makes my knees weak, my breasts heavy and achy under the gown. n*****s pulling taut against the silky confines, my slit clenches in need, even though I just came moments ago. I stumble to the bed, crawling back under the covers, trying to give myself more modesty.

I glance over at the Orcs, taking in the way each one of them seems to be sniffing the air. It makes me feel self-conscious that I might not have gotten rid of all the filth covering my skin.

“Why do you keep sniffing the air? Did I stink that bad?” I lift my arm to my nose and sniff, smelling nothing more than the clean scent of the lemongrass soap. “I don't smell anything.” I can feel my brows drawing down over my eyes in confusion. Each male adjusts the hardness in their pants, trying to ignore the tents bulging the front of their trousers.

“You do not stink. Your scent is,” Vlorg inhales sharply. “Intoxicating.” He rumbles as he pours a bowl of stew, shifting from one foot to the other, before carrying the food to me. Setting the bowl and a spoon down on the bedside table, he kneels beside the bed and draws the hand that I used to touch myself to his nose. Taking a deep breath of my fingers, the rumble in his chest turns to a full-on growl. Through his arms, I watch his erection jerk. “Orcs have extremely keen senses of smell. As well as hearing.”

I stare at Vlorg as he releases my fingers, and the realization hits me like a Mack truck. My already flushed skin ignites further, nearing a fever pitch at the mortification.

Fantastic, not only can the Orcs smell when I'm excited, but they can also hear when I'm doing naughty things by myself. Just my f*****g luck.

“Eat.” Vlorg urges as he lifts himself from the floor and returns to the fire pit. He grabs a bowl of stew and starts to eat with his brothers. They stay away from me, giving me a little space to eat without having them too close to be intimidating. However, I can still feel them glancing my way frequently, the caress of their stares tingling across my skin.

Needing something to distract myself from the growing tension in the space between us, I grab the bowl of food and bring it into my lap. The stew is a generous helping of meat, potatoes, carrots, and celery. The rich aroma makes my mouth water again, and my stomach grumbles angrily in need. I don't waste any time digging in as I scoop a heaping spoonful into my mouth. The stew's flavor is just as delicious as the scent hinted at, every mouthful exploding with flavor across my tongue. A soft moan of delight tumbles off my tongue, the flavors so fulfilling after the unwanted fast. Every few bites, breathier sounds of happiness vibrate in my throat. I polish off every morsel of the food, hardly noticing the intense stares in my direction.

“Have you had your fill?” Orguk asks, his voice huskier than before, as he heads over to me, eyes eager and warm. I glance down at the empty bowl in my hands, and the blush might as well be covering me wholly by now. I’m doing everything I can to make a complete fool out of myself in the brief time I've been with these Orcs. Have an all-out panic attack as soon as I wake up. Check. Flash them my titties. Check. Masturbate in their bathing pool. Check. Get caught m**********g in their bathing pool. Check. Scarf down an Orc-size bowl of food in less than five minutes, all while moaning. Check.

“Little female, you need not be embarrassed. Healthy females have good appetites.” Orguk reassures me in a gentle voice that does little to cool the flaming embarrassment on my face. His sizable hard-on is straining against his trousers, not helping a different burning that I’m having. “Please. Have your fill.” In my lust-addled brain, it sounds like a vastly different kind of offer, but I nod, needing to save myself from more shame.

“I’d love another bowl of stew. It’s delicious. I don't think I've had a better meal in a long time.” I smile at Orguk, handing him my bowl and spoon, grateful for the offer of more food. Sometimes my stomach is a bottomless pit that no amount of food can fill. After my impromptu fasting and exercise tonight, I'm famished.

He takes the bowl back to the fire pit and ladles in another helping of food before bringing it back to me. I do my best to ignore his tent, just as he is. Thanking him, I proceed to eat this bowl at a more appropriate pace. I take one spoonful at a time into my mouth, chewing thoroughly before scooping up another. Even as I slow the ravenous pace of my eating, I still feel all their attention on me.

“Guys, I don't mean to be rude, but it's a little difficult to eat comfortably with you staring me down like I'm prey.” I chastise the big Orcs like I have any right to; I’m the woman interloping in their home. Distracted by the Orc’s intense stares, I didn’t notice the giant wolf edging itself closer to me. I squeak in surprise as its nose nudges my hip through the furs. Skarr lets out a tiny whine, much too small for such a giant wolf, and sniffs at the bowl in my hands. The beast begs for what’s left of my meal. He licks his chops like an overgrown puppy, waiting patiently for my consent. I bring the bowl down so he can have it, and he happily devours the remaining stew, licking the bowl clean. It appears that all the boys in this Longhouse wait for permission regarding a female.

I put the bowl and spoon on the bedside table and relax against the wall. Skarr, content with his late-night treat, curls his warm body against my side, nestling down into the furs before resting his great head on my lap. The size of it dwarfs my abundantly thick thighs, snout resting down to the top of my knee. After the gentle interaction, I feel far less anxious with the wolf. I cautiously stroke my fingers over his head. When he makes no sounds of protest, I scrub my fingers through the thick, silky fur around his ears and neck. Despite him being significantly superior to me, I don’t have the sense of dread at the idea of Skarr near me anymore. The way his tail flops freely on the bed fills me with giddiness at petting such a ferocious creature.

Lost in the tranquilizing feeling of running my fingers through the silky black fur, I don’t notice the guys joining me on the bed. I look up only after the surface dips with their weight. My eyes widen as they seat themselves around my legs, close but not close enough to touch without meaning to. I can’t stop myself from noticing that all erections have calmed back down to normal. I’m mildly surprised at the disappointment dampening my mood.

Dirty Girl!

I glance between the three Orcs, Borguk on the left, Vlorg in the middle, and Orguk on the right. Something else glints in the firelight that I note; the twins also have thick silver bars through their n*****s. I bite my lip to distract my mind from the wicked thoughts I had earlier about Vlorg’s piercings, the desire to play with them still swimming in my brain. From my current vantage point, I confirm that Orguk’s tattoo covers the surface of his strong hands, thick forearms, and corded biceps. Before swirling into misty lines over his broad shoulders. In contrast, Borguk’s tattoo is the reverse, solid on his shoulders, down his arms to whirl over the tops of his hands.

“What are you doing?” I squeak out, nerves flaring at the proximity of so much naked flesh and my impure thoughts. I swallow thickly and try to appear unfazed; smell or no smell, I will try to keep some of my dignity. I’m very conscious of the finite amount of clothing I’m wearing in the same proximity.

“We would like to know more about you. We would like you to know more about us.” Vlorg initiates a conversation to get to know one another better, his handsome, stern face flushing a deeper shade of green in what I can only assume is a blush. It’s so shocking to see the massive Orc bashful that I nod without thought, realizing that my mouth is hanging open, and I snap it shut.

“Okay.” I trail off before collecting myself for the hundredth time tonight. My body around these Orcs is a spell of distraction and awfully delicious sensations. “What would you like to know? Ask anything you want, and I’ll ask you what I want to know in return.” I nibble at my bottom lip, worrying the plump flesh between my teeth. Not used to the amount of attention laved over me, my fatigue makes it more difficult not to be overwhelmed by it. Guys didn’t go for the bigger girl, not wanting anyone to know they were with the ‘fat friend.’ Good enough to f**k in the dark but not good enough to acknowledge in the day. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve dated, but it never worked out. I didn’t need anyone telling me I could stand to lose weight, pointing at my fluffy parts, and making cruel jokes or comments.

Fuck them; I love my body just the way it is now. I was skin and bones in high school, striving for the perfect skinny girl's appearance. Trying to fit in with all the other emaciated skinny girls in my group of ‘friends.’ The downside is that I almost starved to death trying to fit into the awful beauty standards shoved down children's throats. I passed out in Biology class and woke up in a hospital bed, IVs in both arms pumping me full of fluids. My parents were at my bedside, Mom sobbing into Dad’s shoulder. After leaving the hospital, my parents got me in to see a psychologist where I could talk everything out and help me get to the roots of my eating disorder. The memory still makes my heart ache for putting them through that; I swore that day that I would never compromise my health for anyone else’s view of how I should look.

Confusion fogging my brain, I blink at them, unsure if they’d spoken while I reminisced on things long passed. I must look exhausted because they shake their heads.

“We can speak after we rest. May we sleep in our bed with you?” Vlorg asks gently, not wanting to make me uncomfortable, it would seem. I nod as I shuffle down to get comfortable, disturbing Skarr’s snoozing. One of the Orcs banishes him to the end of the bed before situating themselves under the furs—Vlorg on one side of me and the twins on the other.

Despite everything I’ve been through, having them surrounding me has my body relaxing. The heat of their bodies near but not touching lulls me into sleep. Every frazzled nerve calms.