Kurz the Orc

Female Reader x Male Monster

Originally Posted: January 13th, 2018

Your family hires extra help during planting season and harvest. Your father always hires the strongest hands he can find. Recently, he’s taken to hiring orcs because of their sheer strength and their stamina. He acts like the idea was all his, but really, you were the one who kept insisting to him to hire more orc hands. You had seen the orcs who came into the village and had heard stories of their conquests and battles. You knew they would be perfect. Your father never listened to you, or at least never admitted to doing so.

Right now, your farm is housing five orcs who have been helping on the farm. As always, it’s your job to take care of them. As your father puts it, if they aren’t taken care of then they won’t take care of the farm. Not that you mind, it’s better than most jobs you’ve been given. The orcs drink more than eat, but that doesn’t mean they don’t eat their fair share. Cooking and tending to them is more work than you ever expected.

You feel more comfortable with the orcs than the usual fieldhands. The fieldhands had a way of talking to you that both raised the fires of hell inside you and made you recoil into the shadows never to be seen. All your life you were made to feel like shit for your stature. Both short and fat, you had been called many a name. The fieldhands had names too, both hurtful and degrading. They could call you fat in one breath then grope your ass the next second, well, more than not they would happen at the same time. The orcs were more like to bite your hand off to get at their food and ale than talk to you. The most the orcs said to you was that they were going to get you a box to stand on so they could find you. That seemed cuter than prodding.

The biggest of the five was the leader. He was the only one who talked to you on a regular basis. He was also the only one whose name you knew. He told you and your father off the bat to come to him and him alone with any complaints or instructions for the orc crew. His name was Kurz. He was huge too, he stood at least a foot taller than the other orcs. He had thick hair that trailed down his back in massive locks covered by cords and trinkets. His skin was mottled green and gray, and he took every chance he had to show it off. He was more naked than clothed you felt like.

One night, you noticed four of orcs leaving the farm. You lean towards the window, hearing then guffaw and bray as they make their way up the hill towards the village. As you’re getting ready to go and see why they were heading out there is a knock at your door.

Answering, you see Kurz standing there. You frown slightly as you open the door, leaving just enough space open to be seen. “I assume you’re here to tell me why your men are leaving?”

“They got paid today so they’re on their way out to celebrate,” Kurz replies. He’s shirtless again, broad chest and hairy chest exposed. You roll your eyes at this.

“And aren’t you going with them?” You ask, hand firmly on the doorknob.

Kurz smirks. “Not when I can invite the lovely farmer to dinner alone.”

You sigh, “I don’t care what you do.” You then shut the door.

He knocks on your door again.

“What?” You scoff as you open the door again, this time a small crack just so you can peer up at him.

“Aren’t you hungry?” He asks.

You swallow back a painful lump, wondering if this was going to lead to more teasing. “No,” you huff. “I’ve already eaten.”

“Too bad,” Kurz murmurs. “Maybe another night then.”

You open the door a little more but he’s already turning and walking away. You squint your eyes, watching him as he heads back to the orc’s quarters. You scoff and shake your head before going back into the house.

Aside from the regular chores that happened every day, the next day was a day off. After finishing feeding the animals and milking the cows you head back to your house to settle in and read. It’s one of the few things you find you can enjoy nowadays. As you’re picking up a book there is a knock on your door.

You grunt in frustration and open the door, seeing Kurz standing there. “Oh come on,” you growl under your breath.

“Surely you haven’t eaten yet?” Kurz asks.

Your eyes dart over him and you arch a brow. “Why?” You ask. “Why are you so concerned with me eating?”

He looks you over. “You don’t get what I’m doing here?”

“No,” you snap as your hands go to your hips. “As far as I know you’re insinuating I’m getting fat or something. What do you want?”

“I’m asking for your company,” he says slowly.

Your eyes widen.

“Because I like you.” He taps the tip of your nose and you swallow back a lump in your throat. You take a step back, touching where he touched. Your eyes flick back up to him and your stomach flip-flops.

“No,” you gasp.

“Is that hard to believe?” He asks.

You shut your mouth uptight. Yes, in fact, it is hard to believe. You’ve never been called upon to date or anything. Maybe when someone was drunk and when you were drunk. But this was a very first.

“I’m busy,” you shut the door and stand there confused. It takes you awhile to wrap your head around it.

As you think about it, a few things became apparent that hadn’t before. Kurz had always insisted on dealing with you, not your father. He always talked to you, always came to you with questions. When you delivered their meals and fed them, it was always Kurz who greeted you and smiled at you. The fact he was always shirtless, nearly naked, was because he wanted you to see. He had been showing off since the day he got there. Hell, he had even come to your house that previous night shirtless and oiled like some statue of a deity. You’re not really sure how to process all this. You aren’t used to someone showing off to gain your attention. Now that you were aware your attention was snatched.

Over the next few days, you try to act as normal as possible. You go about your usual tasks and daily chores trying to push every thought of Kurz and his confession out of your mind. All the while, your eyes wandered to him. In the fields, you saw him stand out from the others. You would watch him from your window or find yourself staring as you crossed the fields. He was like some giant, unavoidable blot in your eye. He was always there.

Delivering their meals now was no easy feat. Before you would stay and make sure they ate, clean up and leave. Now, it felt hard to breathe. You felt watched and your every move was questioned. You couldn’t understand why you were suddenly so nervous around him now. He knew this too, his smile was all knowing. He made excuses to touch you. His huge hand touching yours when you offered him a plate or rested on your shoulder as you were handing our chores for the day. He made an effort to be near you or have his hands on you.

Come the next payday and the orcs went their way into the village. You found yourself at the door of the orc’s quarters and you knocked. Kurz answered and he bit his lip when he looked down at you.

“I was just getting ready to bathe, care to join me?” He leans on the doorframe.

You frown a bit. “Well, hurry up and take it. Dinner will get cold.”

He straightens up a bit. “Dinner?”

“Yes,” you huff. “It’s almost ready at my place.” You fidget with your hair as you glance up at him. “So hurry and wash yourself. You stink as it is.” You turn quickly on your hill and jog back to your house.

Your heart is hammering, in fact, you almost said yes to joining him for his bath. You had been wondering at night what his skin felt like. How his body hair would feel against yours. You wanted to know how his hand would hold you and how his fingers would feel gripping your flesh. You bit your lip, feeling yourself begin to grow hot and bothered. You slap your cheeks and shake your head.

“No time for that,” you scold and get to setting the table and finishing dinner. By the time you’re finished he knocks on your door.

You open and let him inside, barely saying a word. His locks are still damp and he smells like soap. To your surprise, he’s dressed. His tunic is open though, so that’s not surprising.

“Smells good,” he says.

“It’s ready,” you’re not sure at all what to say. You just blurt out the basics of hosting someone in your home. “If you’re hungry.”

“Oh, I’m very hungry.” His tone is suggestive and it gives you pause.

You glance up at him, eyes darting over his smirk and his tongue licks his teeth and lips. “Drink?” You squeak.

“What do you have?” He takes a seat at the table as you go into the kitchen.\

“Is wine ok?” You fumble as you try to pour, wine splashes on your fingers.

“Very ok.” He takes the glass from your hands.

You serve his plate and then sit down. You watch him as he starts to eat.

“Do you always do the cooking?” He asks.

You nod. “Yeah. I’ve always done it.” You poke at your food. “I hope it’s ok.”

“Always,” he says. “Food always tastes better when it’s made by a beautiful woman.”

You chug your wine a little too fast, but you find it helps. You begin to feel less nervous around him and the conversation between you flows better. He’s a flirt, and you feel like an idiot for not having picked it up in the beginning.

His hand touches your thigh under the table and mixed with wine you begin to melt a little. “I bet you’re just nice and warm like this all over,” he growls.

“I’m hot in some places,” you say.

His mouth stretches into a smug smile. “I’d like to find them.”

“You won’t be tonight,” you tug your leg away, feeling like teasing. “Not after one dinner.” You look up at him, seeing the desire in his eyes. “I’m not so easy.”

He tilts his head. “Then why am I still here?”

You suck in a breath and bite your lip. “Because sometimes talking is just as fun as other things.”

He laughs, “I don’t think you’ve done those other things properly.”

“Probably not,” you chuckle. “You’ll have to show me some other time.”

You continue to talk like this way into the night. You only know it ended because you wake up in bed still wearing the clothes from the night before. You change and head to the orc’s quarters, Kurz is already up and out, tending to the livestock.

“I hope the evening ended well,” you say.

He turns and smirks at you. “Oh, very well.”

Your eyes glide down his bare chest and then back into his eyes. “Sorry I fell asleep. I guess I had too much to drink.”

“Don’t apologize, you were cute. Like a kitten.” He kneels down to wash his hands.

You bite your lip. “I intended to send you off another way.”

He looks up at you and you grasp hold of his face. You kiss him, pressing your body against his strong chest. He moans, placing his damp hand against your cheek and the other on your thigh.

When you pull back his eyes flutter open and he smirks. “Sometimes things are better when you wait on them.” He kisses your neck and you turn into a puddle.

“Mm,” you nod. “I have to…breakfast…making.”

“The others haven’t come back yet,” he stands up, towering over you. “How about I cook for you instead.”

You feel your stomach drop. “Oh?”

“Show you a real orc meal.” You wonder if he meant for his words to sound that suggestive. All you know is that your face feels like you’re sitting before an overstocked fire.

You go back to your house and he arrives a few moments later. He has a few supplies with him and aside from a few questions, he starts cooking without hesitation. You watch him, your eyes focused on his strong, broad back. Your eyes scale down, admiring his rear as he shifts weight from one leg to the other.

“What did you do before you came here?” You ask, hoping to take your mind off things.

“I’ve always worked odd jobs,” he replies. You hear something sizzle very loud. “I can say that I’ve done everything at least once.”

“What does everything include?” You lean forward a bit. “Give me some highlights.”

He glances at you from over his shoulder for a brief moment. “What about you?” Another loud sizzle. “What have you done?”

“This,” you scoff. “The farm has always been what I’ve done.”

“Surely not,” he chuckles. “Do you never leave the farm?”

“Sometimes,” you murmur. “But not often.”

“Ever been married?”

You frown at that and wish you had something to throw at him. “Why? Have you?” You toss that at him instead.

“Once,” he sighs.

Your eyes go wide and fear wracks your body. “Oh?” Your voice breaks.

“Not anymore,” he laughs. “But I was. I enjoyed it. She didn’t.”

You feel bad now. “I’ve never even had a boyfriend. You’re only the third kiss I’ve had. The only good one,” you confess. “I’ve never even uhm-” you swallow nervously.

“No one has shown you a proper good time?” He asks.

You chuckle nervously. “No. No one has. I mean…I’ve shown myself a good time. But those are two completely different kinds of…times.” You groan into a pillow. Why the hell would you even say that?

“I’d like to see that,” his voice is smooth and seductive again. “I’d prefer to join in though. I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of you.”

You bite your lip, knowing you wouldn’t want anyone’s hands but his. “H-how would you start?” You ask.

He’s still before the stove, turning around and setting things out on the table. “I’d start where all good times start, a kiss.”

“What sort of kiss?” You move towards the table.

He chuckles, pulling your chair out for you as you sit down. He serves your plate and pours you a cup of coffee that is so black you doubt cream would lighten it. “It would be soft. More like a question instead of a kiss.” His hands rub your shoulders as you eat. “I’d wait for your kiss, knowing the answer when you gave it.”

You swallow, your heart hammering. The food was good but you just wanted to hear him talk more. His words and voice had better flavor. “What else?” You ask between bites.

“I’d kiss more. Not soft. I have my answer. They’d be hard and warm. I’d kiss your lips, your cheek, any exposed skin I could find my lips would be on it.”

You pinch your thighs together as you take a sip of coffee. His fingers are still kneading your shoulders.

“What…what if my blouse was unbuttoned?” You don’t recognize your voice when it comes out, but you know it’s yours.

A dark chuckle escapes his throat. “I would open it more,” he purrs into your ear. “So I could see all of you.”

A moan escapes your throat and you cover it by shoving a piece of toast into your mouth.

His fingers slip down your shoulders and knead your chest. Your breath pitches as he goes down further. He gropes your breasts, holding them both in each palm. He growls into your ear and nuzzles to your temple.

“Wuh-what,” you clear your throat. “What would you do then?” You place your hands over his, wanting him to squeeze harder.

“A pair like these deserves a lot of attention,” he kisses your neck. “But what sort of attention would you want?”

Your heart hammers and your throat grows dry. “I uh-” you mewl. Really, all you want right now is for him to touch you. Bare skin against bare skin. Heat against heat. You bite your lip as his tongue traces your ear.

“I want…oh god I want-” you press your chest into his palms. “Touch me. Just touch me.” Your voice is pathetic and wanting.

He opens your blouse with the gentlest of fingers. He opens you to the air and then you feel his skin. You suck in a sharp breath as his fingers glide across your skin, your nipples. He tweaks them, pinching and tugging. Your voice pitches and you can’t help but fidget. It feels better when he does it that you alone.

“Let me see them?” He snarls into your ear.

You whimper, swallowing hard. You know they aren’t the best in the world. Sure, they’re big, but they aren’t perky and cute. The areolas aren’t a rosy pink. They’re ruddy and a little brown. They’re thick too. Nothing cute to them.

You slowly turn around, placing your arm on your chest. His lip curls and he pushes your arm down. His breath hitches and you feel your face go both hot and cold. “Sorry I’m not-” His mouth is suddenly on you before you can finish. You yelp as he kisses your breasts. He holds them in his palms like precious treasures. You fidget, mewling as his tongue traces lines over your skin.

“Kurz,” you mewl.

He laps over a nipple and sucks upon it. His mouth is hot and his sharp teeth gently graze you. You grip his shoulders and stretch your neck back, trying to remember how to breathe as he moves to the other breast.

He makes quick work of the rest of your clothes. His kisses trailing down your belly. You try to stop him but he won’t, or possibly can’t. He makes you sit back down and he spreads open your legs. He pats your thighs and chuckles.

“A good pair of thighs is hard to find,” he kisses your soft flesh. “You can crush me if you’d like.”

You bite your lip and fidget as his palms hold you open. “What are you doing?”

He pulls your hips forward, making you sit on the edge of the seat with your back leaned against the chair. “Giving you a much-needed treat.”

You glance down, watching him kiss your plump belly and thighs. His hands kneading your hips. He then opens you up below and you hide your face. He snarls, nuzzling to your belly.

“Don’t stare,” you almost feel like crying.

“Fuck,” he pants. “Forgive me,” he growls and before you can question why his tongue is burrowed inside. You cry out, unsure how to react. He laps your folds and snarls. Wet, sloppy sounds echoing from below. You moan out, his kisses making you feel better than when you touched yourself.

“Kurz,” you mewl. “Kurz,” you squeeze your thighs around his head and he moans. A moment later he raises his eyes towards you. Your breath is taken as you look into his. You roll your hips, meeting his tongue and lips. A finger slips inside and you squeeze tight around it. You bite your cheek, trying to hold your voice back. He feels so good you want to scream.

You feel yourself begin to shudder. Your heart begins to race and you mouth hangs open. You whimper and grunt, grinding against his finger inside of you. His tongue laps at your clit and you wail, unable to keep quiet any longer.

He rises up from between your now weak legs. His licks his chops and grins down at you. “How was breakfast?”

“I uhm-” you cup your burning cheek in your hand. “Good. Yeah uhm-”

He kisses you, lifting you up into his arms. “Want seconds?”