Orc Bound Mates

Chapter Three

Feeling cozy and light, I wake from the most restful sleep I’ve ever had. Opening my eyes slowly, I can see beams of sunlight streaming in through windows set in the same wall as the fire pit. The sun casts the Longhouse in a new glow, brightening the room more than the fire from last night. Despite this home belonging to a trio of Orcs, it is surprisingly clean and free of clutter.

Lazily, I shift around, trying to stretch out my sleep-tightened limbs. I freeze at the deep, pleasured groan from behind me. One arm loops over my waist, curling up under my t**s from behind, and another drapes over my hip, hand resting low against my thigh from the front.

Oh hell.

An exceptionally enormous and ridiculously rigid c**k is wedged against my ass, taking up all the space between my heavy cheeks. It pulses against me, causing me to jerk involuntarily, and elicits a moan from Vlorg, who has drawn me much closer to him in the depths of sleep.

Oh, holy f*****g hell!

Sometime during the night, my gown managed to ride high on my body, twisting around my waist. The unwanted state of the shift allows everything below to be open and easily accessible. Scratch that observation. Make it two pricks wedged against me. Vlorg’s c**k lays sandwiched between my thighs. Rubbing deliciously along my wet, parted p***y, delirious desire surges through me like wildfire.

Unable to control the mini quakes that rake over my sensitive body, I’m all too conscious of every marginal shift of hard flesh against my skin. The enthralling sensation overwhelms my cognitive mind, and I can’t help rocking my dripping honey hole along his rigid prick. I mewl softly in pleasure as the length of his c**k grinds against my over-sensitized c**t. My free hand grips Vlorg's arm, which rests like a scorching iron bar against my skin, as my consuming desire flares into an inferno. I must have closed my eyes at some point because they snap open at a hungry growl and strong meaty fingers squeezing my thigh. I lock gazes with Vlorg's blazing sharp green eyes, his c**k jerking against my cunt in need. I'm powerless to stop the way my hips buck against him, my abdomen tightening in a warning. The only sign I get before a powerful orgasm breaks my body apart and rips a throaty moan from my lips. My hips undulate with frantic convulsions of their own accord. As I dissolve against Vlorg's pulsating shaft, the arm wrapping my upper body tightens. The solid rod trapped along my ass cheeks pulses rhythmically at the tension created by him pulling me closer.

Panting through the echoing waves of my crashing climax, still clinging to Vlorg’s arm, and staring into his eyes, I don’t have a single thought running through my head. The frantic rhythm of my hips slows into tiny twitching shudders, my excited moaning reducing to shallow whimpers. Everything is coming down and settling into a dreamy afterglow of post-orgasmic haze.

After my pleasure-driven actions, I’m acutely aware of hot, sticky c*m splattered against my back and oozing all over my thighs. Heart kicking up in my chest, I can’t pull my gaze from Vlorg’s as reality slams into me. Mortified to hell and back by what I’ve done, I repeatedly apologize, forcing my eyes to shut and tucking my chin down against my chest—trying to hide inside myself. I genuinely want to understand what the hell my body is thinking because I seem to be losing all control over myself. It hasn’t been a full day that I have been here, in this fantastical world, with large Orcs, and I’ve gotten off twice. I should be hysterical in an entirely different manner, like, sobbing in despair, screaming in terror, fighting off monstrous creatures, and dying like an i***t for fighting.

Vlorg pulls me tight to his chest, c**k sliding deeper between my thighs, and a soft cooing vibrates through me like a salve. Orguk and Borguk are stroking my side and shoulder, Borguk pressing snuggly against my back. Both are rumbling softly to pull me further into the calming vibrating coo. I'm not too fond of the emotional mess my mind throws me into; I don’t fight the gentle sound that profoundly affects me. The mortification ebbed away, replaced with calming acceptance.

Deep breath in, shuddering breath out. Repeat. Panic attack number two; successfully avoided.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with my body. I swear it has a mind of its own.” I grumble from where my face hides against Vlorg’s chest under his chin. His rich woodsy scent fuels the excitement that hasn’t dissipated in my belly; I feel more moisture leaking from my puffy t**t. I’m confident the hot press of muscular male skin against the bare parts of my body isn’t helping in my current dilemma. I need to find a way to get home, not hit the third base with the Orc versions of Thor and two Loki from the Marvel movies. They coincidentally happen to be my celebrity heartthrobs and bean-flicking material; the Orc look-a-likes are doing something extra to my libido.

“No, Alexa. Do not feel sorry. We are as affected as you.” His rich voice reverberates through me, zapping every part of me that is touching him. I bite my lip to hold in the moan, forcing my mind to be clear enough to continue listening. “Your scent is so sweet. So, inviting. Your cunt weeping with honey. Begging for attention.” His voice drops to a fierce whisper, thick and hungry, and his prick jerks against me in excitement to help give me attention. Shuddering against the heady sensation, I try to smother a gasp, having a laborious time fighting the temptation to let myself go. Again.

“We feel the draw to be with you. The desire to formally court you. Make you, our female.” Borguk whispers gently against the nape of my neck, rubbing his nose along the edge of my hairline, breathing my scent in intimately before letting it out on a shuttering breath. His hand resting on my shoulder traces meaningless patterns with the soft pads of his fingers. Orguk’s fingers are doing the identical mindless tracings along my side and hip, snapping more electricity charges through every nerve. Something in what Borguk said clicks in my head, jarring me from the hazy fog in my brain.

“Wait! Our female? Like all three of you?” I ask in shock, finding some hidden nerves to wiggle around to stare at Borguk over my shoulder. Hungry spring green eyes stare back at me with steady determination, his expression pairing gorgeously with his sexy smile. His d**k twitched against me as my ass grinds more firmly against him, broadcasting his desire for more. I glance up at Orguk's midnight blue eye, mirroring the passion in his twin’s, his hand gripping my hip to emphasize his feelings. Turning back to Vlorg, butterflies swarm in my stomach, the same dark sea green blush coloring his cheeks.

The Orc could talk about my cunt no problem but bring up making me their female, and he gets shy.

“Yes. We would court you together. Care for you together. Attend all your needs together. You would be ours. Our female.” Vlorg hesitates a moment but shudders out. “We would be your males.” His misty deep forest eyes filled with longing and hope. I stare for a moment, unsure what to do in this situation. They want me to stay with them, be theirs and take care of me.

Since my parents died a few years back in the hurricane that ravaged parts of Florida, I’ve been on my own. When the storm hit, I was away for college; a tornado touched down and ripped through my childhood home, killing my parents. I don’t have any siblings or extended family waiting on me back home, just a sad half, dead plant and work that takes advantage of me. After the incident with my ex-friend and boyfriend, I lost most of my friends when they told everyone horrible lies about me. I have nothing worth going back to in my world.

“I don’t know. Can I have time to think about it? I’m supposed to be trying to find a way home. You said you would talk to your father about it.” I say to the quiet space between us, not wanting to put the words out there. Some part inside me is already setting up the foundation needed to build a life here and be a part of this world. This polyamorous love bubble is starting to sound more appealing by the moment. Not sure if I could take one of their large baby makers inside me, let alone three, but I find myself wanting to try.

Before another word can find its way into the silence, my stomach growls like a ravenous beast. The sound rumbles against my bladder, reminding me I need to pee. Cheeks still flushed from all the sexy times, the new flood of embarrassment blends right in. The guys chuckle at my stomach’s angry demand; Orguk shuffles out of bed to get the fire going. He starts making breakfast for everyone, not that I can see him doing anything. Vlorg’s massive shoulders block everything but the ceiling from view, and his torso is twice as broad as I am, so I’m guessing off the sounds of logs hitting stone and fire crackling to life. Borguk gently slips his prick from between my cheeks, and the slide of his hardness grazing over-sensitized flesh draws a whimper from my lips.

“Weren’t you all wearing pants before lying down?” I ask, noticing Borguk stuffing his prick into a tawny-colored loincloth too small to hold all of him hard as he steps over our legs. “Trousers for the day. Loincloth for sleeping.” Borguk chimes brightly, going to help Orguk with food.

“That is our oversight. We did not think it would end up like this. The trousers came off after you fell into sleep.” Vlorg admits with shame flashing through his eyes, his lips twisting in a grimace as my thighs shift around him, his jackhammer twitching at the pressure. “Sorry.” I squeak.

I lift my leg, spreading my thighs wide to release him, biting my lips in preparation for his c**k sliding against me. He takes great care in reaching down to push himself away from my soaked p***y to save himself and me from the teasing that would come with dragging my cunt along his entire length. Once he achieves adequate clearing, I clamp my legs shut and shift back a little to give us some space to breathe.

“Where can I go to urinate?” I phrase the question to avoid any confusion on terminology, the need to pee becoming more urgent. Vlorg shifts to the edge of the bed, legs hanging over the side; he reaches down for a moment. Standing, he tugs his trousers up as he stands, fumbling with his prick before wrestling the thing inside. His heavy muscled thighs and big meaty ass are on display for my viewing pleasure for only a moment, but what a wonderful moment it was.

“Come.” Vlorg turns towards me and holds his hand out, just like last night, waiting to guide me. I try to pull the gown back down to cover myself before getting up, but the skirt stubbornly wraps around my waist. Growling, I flick the furs back and crawl off the bed; once up, I untwist the fabric and let it fall back over my naked form. Not that the damn thing didn’t show everything anyways, I notice looking down at it in the morning light. Hugging every inch of me, my n*****s pebble under the fabric, and my large, heavy breasts are evident beneath the silky fabric. The gown clings to the wet c*m still sticking to my back and ass, I pluck it away from my skin, but it sticks right back into place when I let it go.

I glance up, and again all eyes are on me, eating up every inch of flesh beneath the ghostly gown—nothing I can do about it. Huffing, I take Vlorg’s hand and let him walk me to the door next to the storage room; at least, I think it’s a storage room. Borguk pulled the dress out of there last night.

Speaking of clothes.

“Do you have anything other than a see-through gown I can wear?” I glance over to Borguk, who blushes a beautiful shade of deep shamrock green, nodding his head, quickly slinking behind Vlorg to duck into the next door over. Vlorg, the big chivalrous Orc, opens the bathroom door for me. Peering inside, I fear seeing something resembling a dirty outhouse; a clean ordinary-looking bathroom stands before me. Carved from a large stone sits a normal-looking toilet against one wall, and a matching stone sink stands against the adjacent wall. More hanging crystals, some illuminated with a bright silver light, others shimmering a dark red.

I slip inside and shut the door behind me, closing off my view of Vlorg and his view of me. I glance around the smaller room, taking in everything I can. The dark wine crystals glow, flickering a couple of times before blinking off. Sighing for the millionth time in less than 24 hours, I lift the gown's skirt and plop onto the toilet, the cold stone freezing against my heated skin.

There’s not much else here; the toilet, sink, and crystals. I look to either side of the bathroom, which is empty—no toilet paper or furs to clean up my mess. Just as I’m about to call out for help, a spray of warm water hits every bit of my nether regions. I jump away from the toilet bowl with a shriek. Whirling around, I peer into the bowl from against the wall to see what the hell is in it. More water sprays again, and without a body to block the spout, it flies across the space and soaks me from chest to knees. The equally warm gust of air starts just as Vlorg yanks the door open, Borguk and Orguk at each side, ready to save me. They chuckle at the sight of me staring at the toilet like it was out to get me. I can’t seem mad at their laughter; it’s funny, even at my expense. I brush the front of the dress, failing to wipe any water off. I turn to the Orcs, putting my fists on my hips to look intimidating.

“A little warning would have been nice! The first shot scared the hell out of me, and the second one soaked me!!” My voice is a mock scolding that ends with me giggling at the situation. They aren’t laughing anymore; smoldering stares devour the stark silhouette of my every curve and asset in the wet gown. Not a single inch of my body remains hidden anymore.

I guess my intimidating stance doesn’t work so well when the thin gown is entirely transparent and plastered to my body.

I wrap my arm over my n*****s and cup my lady parts to stave off hungry eyes. “Eyes up here, boys!” I demand, and three pairs of eyes rocket to comply.

“Sorry little female,” Vlorg mumbles, scratching the back of his head. Orguk turns back to the fire and the food cooking away now that he knows I’m fine. Borguk steps back enough to let Vlorg move aside for me, and I come out of the bathroom. “All water-related things in the Longhouse are Fae magic. It stays at the right temperature. It also cleans up the soiled parts. And dries them.” Borguk explains, shifting from one foot to the other, again sporting a hard-on, but he is holding some clothes for me to wear for the day. It looks suspiciously thick and very not see-through. “Yeah, thanks. A whole lot of good it does me now.” I grumble.

“Is that for me?” I ask, nodding to the little bundle he is holding; he opens it up so I can look it over. “You had that this whole time, right?” I question, giving him the stink eye. I grumble at his choices in attire for me, ready to yell at him for the poor first choice but huff out an exasperated breath instead. Still clutching my bits, I turn away, head over to the bathing room door, and wait for someone to open it.

“Door, please. My hands are a bit busy.” I glance at the door meaningfully and flare my fingers open. Vlorg slips into the bathroom to clean up the mess or use it; I'm not sure. So, Borguk comes my way, dress folded back up and in one hand, still hard, with a smile tugging his lips wide. “Yeah, laugh it up, big guy. You’re not the one wearing a soaking wet slip of nothing in front of three horny Orcs.” I glare at him as he opens the door for me, letting me go ahead of him. He slips in behind me and places the dress on the bench.

“Sorry little female. I meant no offense. Just enjoying the feast to my eyes.” He tries to sound guilty, but his smile only spreads wider. He slips out quickly as I let out my version of a growl, chuckling as the door clicks shut.

I want to wash up quickly as my stomach growls loudly in the quiet room. I pull the clinging damp gown over my head and chuck it into the basket, leaving my hair up as I slip into the water. Wading chest deep into the water, I rub my hands over my body to brush some cold drying spunk from my back and thighs. Most of it off, I head back up to the edge where I left the loofa and lemongrass wash; dumping a generous amount, I scrub it over my thighs. Getting to my back is a little more complicated, but I manage. Cleaned up and ready for food, I rinse quickly and exit the pool. Fur in hand, I dry off and slip into the much more modest dress.

It is a soft brown dress that hangs down to my ankles, the skirt flowing and heavy. The waist cinches tight and pushes my t**s up to show a decent amount of cleavage, but not too much. The bust of the dress is a white peasant-style blouse sown directly into the brown skirt, the same brown forming a vest along the back and front. Satisfied with this one, I redo my messy bun before leaving the bathing room.

“Much better,” I grumble to the bathroom as I return to the main room; the guys are ladling another stew into bowls and setting them on the long table in the far corner. I head over to find a bowl, spoon, and cup of water already waiting for me, a large loaf of bread next to the bowl.

“More stew?” I question as the same stew from last night stares back at me from the bowl. Vlorg shrugs as I sit in the bench seat against the stone wall, the table higher than I’m used to, so I pull my feet under me to reach comfortably.

“Food stores are low on morning foods. Please make do with the stew. We will restock for more variety.” He promises, taking the seat next to me, the twins on the other side, Orguk in front of me.

“No big deal, it was delicious last night and will be delicious this morning. Just wondering.” I dig into the stew, confirm that it’s still delicious, and pace myself like a lady, not a starving beast. “So, what’s the plan for today?” I wonder aloud, trying to start a conversation where I am not naked or dazed from being knocked out.

“Borguk will go to the village and speak with the Chieftain. We will stay here and wait for his return.” Vlorg says between mouthfuls; Borguk nods across from me. Wondering why we couldn’t go as a group, I take another bite before asking.

“Why just him? Why can’t we all go now?” Orguk shakes his head, adding his bit to the conversation.

“I said we should. Vlorg would not have it. It is insulting to show up at the Chieftain’s Stronghold unannounced. Sired sons or not.” He explains having finished more than half his food before dunking his bread into the leftover liquid in the bowl. Everyone finishes eating in silence, bowls empty and pushed to the middle of the table. No one makes a move to get up.

“So, Borguk, want to tell me why this dress is so different from the first? This one sure covers a lot more.” I invite him to explain his choice; knowing he could have picked this one from the start is a little peeving. Vlorg’s just finishing his cup of water when the question causes him to choke. Orguk chuckles at his brother’s chagrined expression, a knowing look in his eyes. Borguk clears his throat, pulls himself straight, and nods.

“That is a day dress. The first was a nightgown. Meant for sleeping.” He explains, nodding his head again; his twin sits there shaking his head in the negatory. Clearly, he’s not telling the whole truth; the gown might be for the night but not every night. Orguk glances from his twin to me and chuckles again, still shaking his head.

“Orguk, what isn’t he saying?” I demand, leaning forward on my part of the bench and rapping my fist on the table; He stops chuckling and swallows like he fears the tiny human in front of him.

“That gown is for the night a female takes the … seed of her males.” Borguk elbows him in the ribs, glaring daggers as his cheeks darken with embarrassment. Vlorg clears his throat next to me, scratching the back of his neck.

“Naughty Orcs!” I chastise all of them. Because one of the other two could’ve stopped him but didn’t, leaning back against the wall to glare at him, I can’t stifle my laugh. Confused, I turn to Vlorg. “Wait, I thought you were going to ask your father about my situation. Why the Chieftain instead?”

“Our Sire is the Chieftain.” He states, pouring himself another cup of water and taking a drink.

“Your father is what, like the King or something?” I ask incredulously, eyes widening at what that might imply. I’m bedding up with Orc princes, some lowly human. Orguk huffs a humorless laugh.

“Our Sire is no king. He is Chieftain. Kings are for the human males and Fae.” He growls at his mention of the human men but continues. “He leads our people. He helps those who need it. A chief does not lord over his people. Demanding they work to death for his benefit. No Orc would ever follow the rule of a king. Selfish males.” His brothers grunt in agreement for their dislike of kings.

Okay. Note to self, remember not to call the Chieftain a king. It might piss him off.

“Okay.” I hedge away from the sour topic and try to bring back the laughing Orcs; these grumpy growling ones are overwhelming. “If I’m allowed an audience with the Chieftain, what should I call him? Is it okay that I’m here?”

“Chief or Worthag.” Vlorg offers, his temper calming after the mention of kings. Borguk collects the dishes and puts them in a bin beside the fire pit before returning to his seat. “Sorry for the anger. Orcs do not like kings. All the kings we have met are greedy, Honorless males. Any Chieftain acting as a king is struck down and replaced.”

“Don’t worry about it; I was just surprised. I wanted to understand more and didn’t want to get anyone in trouble.” I brush a few whisps of hair out of my face, trying to camouflage my discomfort.

“Why would anyone be in trouble?” Borguk asks in confusion, his brothers wearing the same look of concern as he is.

“I don’t know.” I can’t help the blush that creeps up my face or the unwarranted insane jealousy that sours my stomach at the thought of some Orc woman touching my Orcs. “Wouldn’t want the Chieftain’s sons to be sleeping in a bed with a little human. I didn’t know if other females were already in line for you.”

My Orcs! They aren’t my Orcs. i***t. You’re trying to go home, leaving them here. Remember!?!

Mental chastising done, I glance around the table, avoiding eye contact with them as I nibble my lip. Vlorg’s laugh is deep and tantalizing, drawing my attention to him.

“Little female, there is nothing to fear. There are no other females, and our Sire and Mother would be pleased.” He soothes the acidic jealousy in my stomach without realizing it, and a small smile breaks across my lips. “Mother especially will be incredibly pleased. She has pulled our ears about finding a female for many winters.”

“Oh, okay. Good.” I don’t know what to say as silence fills the room again. Pondering over the added information I have learned, I start feeling restless sitting at the table. The three Orcs stare at me like I’m the stars in the sky, dreamy and wistful. I clear my throat, unsure under their longing gazes.

“I shall make haste to the village. The day is passing, and I wish to return before the moon rises.” Borguk announces, getting up from the table to grab supplies from the closet. He pulls on thick leather boots, adjusting some leather straps to get the fit right. Fur shoulder coverings slide on easily as he straps a nasty-looking obsidian stone axe to his hip. Borguk heads for the front doors and slips outside to complete his task.