The Queen's Conquest. Chapter Five.

A commission from AshenGray.

As Arruk's body births the many seeds planted within her, her astral form, trapped in Aisshaee's realm, is tormented by pain and pleasure.

-o-o-o-

“Nyaaaaaaah!” Arruk howled, tears of frustration pouring from her as she convulsed on the Queen’s bed. She bit her lip and tasted blood, fingers clawing viciously at Aisshaee’s arm, sliding uselessly off her ironbark skin. Her legs shook and quivered, spread wide as the poor Orc’s pussy spasmed and pulsed and sprayed her nectar over her captor’s bedchambers. “M… make… it… stoooooop!”

“Shhh.” Aisshaee smiled soothingly, one arm wound around her orcish slave’s throat, the other hand slowly stroking over her braided hair. As she petted her slave, almost tenderly in her movements, her eyes glowed with evil delight, shining a sharper orange with every groan and gasp of pain and pleasure that came from her dear pet.

“Make… it stop.” Arruk demanded, her obedient façade completely abandoned. “Make it stop or I swear I will kill you! I’ll tear you limb from limb!”

“Oh, you were doing so well.” Aisshaee pouted sadly. “I was almost convinced your little act was genuine for a moment.”

“Make it s… stop!” Arruk repeated before another pulse hit her and her eyes rolled back. Her massive pregnant belly twitched as if it had been punched from the inside and a fresh spray of quim gushed from Arruk’s sopping nethers. The orc’s threats and screams melted into moans and whimpers, her hips bucking and toes curling as yet another unwanted orgasm ravished her.

She fell back onto the bed, head limp against Aisshaee’s breasts as the Dryad tutted sternly. “Doesn’t it feel nice? All my previous broodmothers found giving birth completely addictive.”

“Please.” Arruk sobbed, tugging uselessly on the Queen’s arm. “M…mercy.”

The queen smiled. “No.”

Arruk whined and desperately tried to prise Aisshaee’s arm from around her throat before the next wave of mixed agony and ecstasy rushed through her. The dozens of seeds her dryad captors had planted inside her had begun to slip from her bloated body a little under an hour ago, sliding from her cunt and ass as she stood helpless within Aisshaee’s tree, being carefully drawn away to take root and expand the forest. Whilst it was only her physical body that was subjected to the real birthing, Arruk’s astral body wasn’t spared humiliation and pain.

She could feel the seeds glow with energy inside her, each one pulsing with light and vanishing from her ruined body as it slipped from her cunt in the real world. Every shift of the seeds inside her sent an orgasm rolling through her body, each one seeming to be more intense than the last.

“Hate you.” She choked, whimpering as yet another thundering roll of pleasure pulsed inside her. “I… hate you.”

“For now.” Aisshaee chuckled, “But you can’t deny how I make you feel, every second of bliss I give chips away at your pride. Every seed I plant in you makes submission just that little bit easier. I’ve seen those looks you give when you think I’m not looking, I’ve felt you press close when you think I’m asleep. Why not give in, hm? Why not just accept your place at my feet?”

“N… no.”

Aisshaee sighed heavily and nodded. “If you say so. Perhaps you won’t break, perhaps you’ll just go mad. Either way I’m sure you’ll be entertaining.”

Arruk’s rage-filled response was lost in a breathless mew as her hips jerked upwards and she sprayed an arc of her arousal onto the floor.

The seeds seemed to be coming faster now, each one passing from her one after the other more and more quickly, the orgasms they brought growing closer and closer together until Arruk was howling and twitching in a maddening, lustful haze.

In the real world, Arruk’s ruined, humiliated body’s monstrous belly slowly began to flatten, not to it’s former muscular glory, but to a plump softness that was still far better than the inhumanly round state it had been in before. Locked within the Queen Tree, in Aisshaee’s realm, Arruk’s astral body only continued to be transformed.

Aisshaee purred as her prisoner drooled unconsciously, eyes open but unseeing and breaths coming in ragged gasps. She stroked her claws over the orc’s bosom, fingers squeezing the supple green flesh to a contemplative hum from their owner.

Arruk was progressing quite nicely all things considered, her resistance, albeit a touch tedious, was beginning to show its cracks. Each hateful comment having just a little less venom behind it. Each reluctant pause before the orc humiliated herself growing just a little shorter.

Her body was coming along wonderfully, that big fat belly giving the young orc a delightful maternal glow, and her hips and thighs thickening pleasingly, whilst still retaining their well-earned musculature. Aisshaee chuckled and pinched a green nipple, coaxing a bead of glossy white milk from its dark emerald bud. She rubbed the milk between her fingers and flashed a fang-filled grin. Soon enough sweet Arruk’s milk would be nourishing her tree even as the rains of spring faded and the long hot summers came.

The door slid open and one of her guards stepped into the chamber, smiling toothily at the state Arruk was in. “Majesty, the new sisters are coalescing as we speak, will you be welcoming them personally?”

Aisshaee smiled and stroked a talon over Arruk’s blushing cheek.

“You know my dear, I think I’ve just thought of the perfect way to welcome my new subjects.”

-o-o-o-

“So… you are the vessel that carried us?” a cruelly smiling Dryad sniffed, prowling back and forth in front of Arruk as the orc sat uncomfortably on Aisshaee’s lap. “I expected so much more.”

Arruk growled dangerously, pulling against Aisshaee’s grip as the Queen kept her wrists locked behind her back. “If it weren’t for your mother, I’d show you just what I can do, twig.”

The Dryad laughed coldly, rubbing her hands together as she inspected her prey. “My Queen is not my mother, and if she says you are not to be harmed, you are not to be harmed.” She paused and stroked a hand over her cock. “And if she says you are to be used… who am I to disobey?”

“Hmmm.” Aisshaee purred approvingly, admiring her latest subject as the fully formed dryad prepared to put her incubator to good use. “My my, you have my pet’s spirit, don’t you? You’ll make a fine warrior.”

“If it pleases you, Majesty.” The new dryad preened happily. “Am I to breed this creature, or is it simply humiliation you desire?”

“Use her as you wish, little one.” Aisshaee grinned, twisting Arruk’s arms enough to draw a pained whine from the sullen orc.

The new-born Dryad needed no further encouragement. With a hungry snarl she pounced, sinking her fingers into Arruk’s bust and kneading the soft green flesh violently. Arruk’s shout of pain was cut as the Dryad thrust into her defenceless womanhood, knocking the breath from her and pressing her tight against Aisshaee’s belly.

The new dryad’s cock was big, just as big as all the others who had had their way with Arruk all the times before. Some small part of the poor orc had hoped that maybe the younger dryads wouldn’t be quite so well-endowed, or quite so strong. Unfortunately, it seemed they were every bit the equals to their elder siblings.

“Hah!” she grunted, lunging forwards with her teeth in an attempt to bite the dryad thrusting into her. Her tusks were still nowhere near the smirking Dryad’s flesh when a second of the dryads who had been within her snatched her by the throat and squeezed.

Arruk choked, wheezing as a thumb pressed her windpipe, mouth gasping for air only to receive cock instead. She gagged and spluttered as the taller, slimmer tree-spirit rammed her cock into her waiting gullet, keeping a tight hold on Arruk’s throat all the while as she sank deep into her lips.

“Come girls, don’t be shy.” Arruk heard Aisshaee call, “Put this fine broodmare to use, the forest must grow further! Our kingdom will cover this land by the time this sow is spent!”

Arruk’s eyes watered and darted around desperately as the dryads she had birthed swarmed her. Only a few managed to get their members attended to, many more had to satisfy themselves or one another. Arruk gurgled and shook and tried to struggle, her petals being ruthlessly pounded and her throat squeezed and stuffed even as hands and yet more cocks rubbed against her helpless form.

Any way the dryads could find pleasure with her, they capitalised on. Cocks rubbed every inch of her skin, pressing to her belly, her swinging udders, her grasping hands and her shaking thighs. Her braided hair was wound around dryad shafts and used to stroke them off. The soles of her feet were thrust against, tickled by cockmeat and making Arruk jerk all the more as she was taken.

It didn’t take long to realise that these young, new-born dryads were inferior to their older kin in one respect: stamina. After less than five minutes of filling Arruk’s hole the cruel dryad emptied herself with a roar of victory. Her honey-thick seed splattered into Arruk’s womb and took root immediately, what little that was left oozing out as the dryad retreated, making room for the next.

She didn’t realise Aisshaee had released her until she was lifted above the crowd, carried away from the throne before being swallowed back into the horde. Only a week, pitiful whine came from her as the countless dryads she had bourn grabbed at her, determined to have their way.

Arruk’s lips were stretched by taloned fingers, her mouth shoved full of one cock, then another, then another, each one leaving their tar-thick spunk behind to slide lazily into her stomach. A muted squeal of pain came as, after the fourth or fifth user stepped aside, two dryads began fighting for the next spot, managing to wedge both of their manhood’s into her mouth and down her gullet.

Feeling her throat bulge obscenely, Arruk wanted to clutch at the intrusion, drive the cocks out of her, but instead each of her hands was desperately stroking the many cocks that were pressed into them. She didn’t even realise she was doing it; she couldn’t exactly see her hands once the dryads had begun to mount her chest and titty-fuck her, splattering her neck and chin with their seed time and time again.

It was instinct. Not the primal orcish instincts that still urged her to fight and bite and claw at her attackers, but an insipid, insidious urge that had been growing with each moment of pleasure the dryads had given her. Arruk’s mind might have been resisting Aisshaee’s charms, but her body was far less stubborn.

Without thought or complaint, Arruk pleasured her dryad captors, hands jerking off cock after cock, hips bucking against each new intrusion into her welcoming holes, tongue swirling hungrily around every pole that forced its way into her cheeks. Even as her mind refused to admit it, her body played the role of whore to perfection.

The need to breed and fuck was strong enough to overrule the dryad’s cruelty for a while, but before long their loads were spent, dripping out of and over Arruk’s body, and their attentions turned to harsher entertainment.

By the time Arruk was finally freed and returned to Aisshaee’s bed, her body was littered with bruises and shallow cuts. Her rump had been spanked raw. Her cheeks had been beaten mercilessly. Her udders had been swatted and battered like punching bags, made to jiggle and swing with each new strike, much to the amusement of the dryad clan.

As sperm sunk into her skin and matted her hair, stinging on the scrapes and scratches that littered her flesh, Arruk sobbed.

“There there.” Aisshaee tutted comfortingly as her orcish bride trembled in her lap. “No need to cry, I have just what you need to feel better.” She took her cock in one hand and brought it to Arruk’s quivering lips.

“Go on.” The queen purred. “Do what you do best, and then I’ll soothe those nasty cuts.”

Arruk sniffed pathetically and hauled her sperm-soaked, battered body closer to her queen, meekly wrapping her lips around her cock and beginning to bob.