"Warchief Ryoz Gaozlinn." You turn to face the voice that asked for you.
He was a large massive figure of hulking green muscle, prostrating itself before your gigantic shadow.
Adrenaline was running through your powerful veins. The fresh blood of your human foes caking your face and torso.
Your warband had successfully obliterated the vanguard which the Kingdom of Hololive had sent to stymie your conquest of their borderlands.
"Status report." You growl out imperiously in your baritone voice. Unlike the rest of your Orcish kin you had been blessed with an intellect that not only matched the higher races but actually outstripped them.
"We've captured the commanders of the vanguard, alive." Your subordinate puts emphasis on the last word. You made it a point that you wanted the capture of high value targets. Any failure to do so would punished with the pain of death.
"Take me to them." The lower orc nods, standing and leading you away. Your retinue in tow.
You descended on the humans when they were making camp, taking advantage of the natural nocturnal eye sight of your orcish band.
The battle was a route, even though the vanguard outnumbered you. It was raining heavily last night and thus a strong mist had blanketed the ground, something which you took to your advantage.
Across the camp your "men" take the spoils of battle, looting from the dead, killing the survivors with brutal joyful abandon. You hear the screams and pleas of mercy from those who arrogantly believed they could defeat you.
You are lead inside a large ostentatious tent that bore the colors and livery of the Kingdom of Hololive.
You enter, the torchlight causing your eyes to narrow a bit until they adjusted to the elevated luminosity.
You see them there, the both of them.
They were stripped naked, bruises covering the entirety of their body. Their hands manacled to the wooden pole in the center that served as the spine of the tent structure.
You tower over them, the both of them stare at you, their battered faces still defiant.
The black haired woman had blue eyes, and a lithe but well muscled frame. You recognized her as Ouro Kronii, she was the leader of this section of the Royal Army.
Flanking her was a pink haired woman, with rose-pink eyes. There was more flab to her bountiful meat. You can feel the whiff of magic out of her. This must be Mori the Reaper.
The both of them had massive chests.
"You will never get away with this orc." Knight-Commander Kronii spits out with laced venom, unheeding of her unfortunate position.
Her compatriot says nothing, her rosy eyes just staring on in narrowed hate and malice.
You will find good use for them.
You grab the blue eye bitch by the hair, lifting her off of her feet. She was strong for a human female, but she still was incapable of anything but helplessly dangling from your monstrous strength.
You bring your mouth closer, it's many fangs and tusks slowly approaching her left breast.
"Let me go!" She can only scream out before she unleashed a wail of pain as you sink your teeth into her boob flesh.
You were quite careful, you weren't going to tear it off. This was simply how orcs marked female property.
You let go, she's sprawled on the floor, grasping her aching chest. She was crying and pissing herself.
You moved over to the other.
"Y-Yo! C-Come on let's be reasonable about this!" She offers even less resistance, merely raising her arms as a shield.
You did much the same, imprinting your teeth marks on her udder. Mori reacted to your rough touch much worse than Kronii, passing out immediately as you let go.
You stand over them, lying down next to each other. A still conscious Kronii shivering from both physical suffering and mental anguish while Mori laid still with blank eyes and drooling mouth.
You smile.
You liked your meat high-quality.

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Pub: 22 Sep 2021 00:01 UTC
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