Orc Boyfriend: Bodrik (complete)

You became part of King Nazrath’s harem when you were young. It was a fate that promised comfort and safety in harsh, unpredictable times. You had come from a life of poverty, working ever since you were physically able. And war was a constant, as Nazrath was often at war with the orc tribes surrounding the kingdom.

Nazrath is vengeful and hateful towards the Orcs, taking out his wrath on them in hopes of purifying the land of their stench. This is not well-liked amongst the people, as the Orcs often do trade with and provide work for the poorest of the kingdom. They are slowly being driven from their homeland while Nazrath seizes control.

Often Nazrath sends his favorites of the haram to spas and retreats, where they prepare for his return from battles. One such spa is located in the mountains, where there are hot springs that soothe the body and soften the skin. You have been sent to this spa, at a time when there are warnings that refugee Orcs are hiding out in these mountains. You  realize that you are being set up as bait. The other girls with you are new and not usually the first chosen from the haram. Nazrath intends to use you to draw out the Orcs and hopefully find their hideout.

There are many knights stationed in hiding around the hot springs, disguised as workers. It is obvious to everyone what the plan is, and you can only hope the Orcs are this smart as well. None of you want any trouble.

One evening as everyone is trying to sleep, the knights get drunk and are making a ruckus. You decide to go and lock the doors to keep the knights from getting to you and the other girls. As you move from door to door, you hear a noise from the dining hall.

Stepping into the dark room, you see several small figures. As you lift your candle, they all go still and stare back at you with wide, terrified expressions. They are Orc children. One is bigger and older than the rest, and he thrust himself in front of the others.

“I’ll kill you if you make a sound!” he snarls at you. His dark hair is cut into a mohawk, but it has grown out enough to become shaggy and greasy. He is as thin as the smaller children, who are clutching bundles of food stolen from the kitchen. Most of them look so young, almost like babies.

You slowly raise your hand to you lips, pressing your finger against them. “Be quiet. The knights are right outside.”

The biggest Orc child’s hand quivers at the hilt of a dagger in his belt. 

“I said be quiet!” You see he has a cut running across the length of his forehead that looks new. You shake your head slowly and raise your hands. “Take all the food you want. I will not stop you.”

The Orc’s angry expression shifts. He looked near tears, almost terrified. “Why? What have you done to it?”

“Nothing,” you whisper. “It’s all safe.” You glance behind you as you hear the knights whooping and hollering outside. Then you look back to the children. “Tell me - are you with the refugees?”

The biggest child scowls. “We were hidden during the last siege. Our parents said they would come back for us, but if they didn’t, they told us to go into the mountains.”

“How did you get in without the knights seeing you?” you ask.

He glances aside, looking at one of the smaller children who has begun to cry. “We’ve been hiding in the basements since before you all arrived here. We’ve been trying to save supplies, but since you and the knights came, we’ve been trapped.”

You nod. “I won’t ask who is waiting on you or where they might be, but I trust there is someone who is going to be expecting you.” You set down your candle on the table. “Come morning, the knights will all be passed out drunk. The other girls and I can get you out of here.”

The young Orc grimaces, his brow pinching. “Why would you do that?”

“Because we’re bait here,” you answer softly. “If we get you out and away, there will be no reason for your people to come here. Gather as much as you can carry and we will lead you out.”

His eyes widen as he gazes at you. “Are you not the King’s property? Why would you spite him?”

A cold spike goes through your heart at that moment. “He can own our bodies, but he cannot control our loyalty.” You hold your hand out towards the child, telling him your name. “What is your name?”

“Bodrik,” he answers. As he takes your hand you can feel his bones and the roughness of his skin.

You gather the other girls of the harem, and together you help Bodrik and the children gather supplies. Come morning, when all the knights are sleeping off their inebriation, you lead the children away. Bodrik leads you through a pass to a secret entrance he sends the children through. Before he goes, he turns back and looks at you.

“When I am strong, I will come back and rescue you.” He says this with the seriousness and stalwart determination of princes in storybooks. 

You smile at him and place a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Save yourself before you save anyone else,” you whisper.

“I mean it!” Bodrik is called by the children, and his attentions are turned for a moment. “I’ll get big and strong, I’ll kill Nazrath with my own hands, and I will set you free. I’ll even love you if you let me.”

“You’d best hurry,” you urge him. “Go, go.”

“I vow everything I said!” Bodrik is pulled through the entrance, and you are assured that he is safe and you will never see him again.

Years have gone by, and now you sit at King Nazrath’s side as his favorite. You have grown into a soft, supple shape that Nazrath enjoys, and cultivated a beauty that has become admired. You know your time as favorite is limited, though. Nazrath prefers his women at a certain age, and you are beginning to creep beyond those years.

Nazrath has grown even more arrogant and lazy, as well as a lush - a combination that has begun his downfall. His armies have been decimated by an encroaching Orc army with a powerful leader, who have been aiming for the palace. War is creeping closer day by day, and in secret, you’ve been sending the women of the harem from the castle to much safer locations. 

Nazrath’s failures have turned him to greater violence, and with each battle lost, it grows. You have fallen victim to it many times, grateful that the alcohol has dulled his fists. You pray for the Orcs to come and destroy everything. You pray Nazrath is knocked down from his throne sooner rather than later.

Word soon arrives that the Orc army is heading towards the castle. You can see their fires on the horizon, and no matter how many men Nazrath sends out, they keep coming closer and closer until they are through the kingdom’s walls. Nazrath pulls all his men from the villages and into the castle. It stops nothing, as the Orcs soon overpower and take over the palace.

Nazrath forces you into the throne room, where he wrestles you to the ground. He sits on top of you, pulling out one of his daggers. “They will not have you!” he shouts.

“No!” You scream, trying to fight him off. Your hand is slashed as you try to protect your chest and throat. You fight against Nazrath, then watch in shock as a blade pierces him through from behind.  You lie with wide eyes as blood pours from his mouth. Then the blade is pulled out, and his corpse is tossed aside.

You stare up, barely able to breathe as the massive Orc stands over you. He is wearing a helmet made from an animal skull and leather armor that is stained black. He kneels and lifts you from the ground.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

You’re trembling uncontrollably, and can only weep in response.

“Your poor hands,” the terrifying Orc whispers. “Do not worry, our only target was that.” He points down to the body. Then he takes you in his arms like something precious. “Let’s get you taken care of.”

He hands you over to an Orc who dresses the cuts on your hands. The Orcs remove everything from the castle, and Nazrath’s body is hung from the castle gates. There is celebration at the Orc’s victory over their tormentor, but you feel as though your fate hangs in the balance.

The evening, after a bath and a change of clothes, you are delivered to the Orc leader. He has pitched a tent in the center of the rose garden. Inside the bed is covered in furs, and the floor of the tent is strewn with rose petals that brush tenderly against your bare feet as you walk.

You bow your head quickly as the Orc leader turns around. His hair is shaved saved for a mohawk down the center. His is monstrous in size and towers over you. His strong, rough hand slips under you chin so your gaze is lifted to meet his face. His eyes are nearly black, like his beard. There is a scar running across the length of his forehead that reminds you of something from ages ago.

“No wonder you were the favorite.” His voice is soft as his thumb rubs your bottom lip. Then he runs his hand down your neck. “I can at least admit that Nazrath had good taste.” His fingers gently caress your arm, then take your bandaged hand. “I am sorry I did not get to you in time.” He bows his head so he can kiss your fingertips.

You flinch slightly at his touch but quickly recover and stiffen your jaw as you raise your chin. “I suppose you intend to take everything he had?”

The Orc smiles. “I don’t care for what he had. It’s what he took that I wanted. All these years Nazrath has been trying to get rid of my people. He has slain countless numbers of us without any regard.” His dark tongue licks the side of his tusk. “This was purely revenge.”

Your stomach tightens into knots. “It matters not what I can say to defend myself at this point, I suppose.”

The Orc looks you over, his eyes grazing down your body. “Aren’t you a prisoner here?” he asks. “Someone he kept for his own selfish needs?”

You keep a firm stance, but your eyes falter and you look away.

“How much have you had to put up with because of him?” The Orc circles around you. “What have you been forced to do? To see? What has he taken from you?” He stops right behind you and places his hands on your shoulders. “I am here to give it all back.”

You look over your shoulder at his hand, then up into his eyes. “It’s too late to give me anything back.”

His hands squeeze your shoulders while his thumbs knead the base of your neck. The sensation is relaxing, making all the tension of the day melt. He is turning you into clay in his palms. 

“Nonsense,” the Orc growls. “You’re still young, still supple. No matter what that cruel man has done, I am sure you’re still a woman with desires as strong as any.”

You close your eyes and moan softly as he continues to massage you. “Your hands.”

“Should I remove them?” His voice rumbles right next to your ear. 

You take a deep breath as you weigh how to answer him. You say nothing and allow his touch to continue. 

“I do not intend to keep what was Nazrath’s for my own. I will keep his castle, but I will return the lands to the tribes he tried to destroy. His property, his wealth, everything will go back to the Orcs. But his people can choose their own fate.”

“I know nothing but this life,” you confess. “Where will I go? What will I do? The people will know me as his whore, and I will be cast out no matter where I go.” Tears start to slip down your cheeks. “And the girls… I have to protect them.”

The Orc’s hand cups your cheek and wipes away the tears. “Then stay here with me. I will protect you and them. I will find them purpose in my keep. My men will not touch them unless they want them to.”

You look up at him again. “How can I trust you?”

The Orc steps away from you and takes a dagger from his boot. He hands it to you, then removes his leather armor and all his clothing. He stands naked before you and spreads his arms out. 

“Strike me, and I will do nothing to you.”

You grip the dagger tight in your hand, looking from the shimmering blade and up at the Orc. “You’re insane! I could kill you!”

He grins. “I’d like to see you try.”

You look at his bare body, drinking him in like a strong liquor that steals your breath and heats your belly. Nazrath was not a well-kept man, despite all his power and wealth. He was haggard, hunched, and vile. This Orc is strong, healthy, virile, and hung like a god. His body is chiseled, hard, covered in dark curls and scars. You have always admired Orcs in their commitment to their health, hygiene, and appearance. But you have not seen one in this state before, and this feels like your first taste of true masculinity.

You drop the dagger and shake your head. “Please, stop,” you whisper. “I do not wish to harm you to prove a point.”

The Orc kneels in front of you. “Forgive me.”

“Forgive-” You stop and stare down at him. “Why would you-” You cup your hand over your mouth and start to laugh. It’s all so ridiculous! Why would this man in such a state of power ask you for forgiveness?

The Orc stands again, his cock twitching. Its getting bigger, growing hard. You are used to this, but Nazrath was never so well-endowed. 

“Let me show you another way.” The Orc picks you up and lays you on the furs at the foot of the bed. Then he kneels again, kissing your feet and legs.

You sit up, looking down at him. “What are you doing?”

He runs his hands up your legs, moving your skirt aside. You frown, but his strong, warm hands on your thighs feels good. 

“Tell me,” the Orc growls. “When was the last time you took pleasure in laying with someone?”

You scoff. “Never.”

He smirks. “Nazrath wasn’t known for his stamina?”

You push your foot against his chest. “What are you intending to do to me?”

The Orc licks his lips. “I will give you a great gift without taking anything.” He kisses your thighs, lowering his head between your legs.

You watch as he pulls your hips forward and buries his face between your thighs, planting himself near your slit. You can feel his hot breath on you, and then his tongue presses against your folds. You gasp out loud and grab a fistful of his hair.

The Orc doesn’t budge. In fact, he moans the harder you pull. His tongue pushes deep, finding your bud and swirling around you. You let out a strange, garbled cry, unused to being touched in that exact spot.

“Won’t you come up for air?” you wheeze. “Won’t you suffocate?” You clamp your thighs tighter around him. “Or is that the point you are trying to prove?” Your voice cracks. The more he licks, the more you melt.

You keep his hair in your fist as you fall back onto the bed. His tusks push against your soft flesh as his tongue works you over. He slurps and moans, sucking on your lips. His fingers massage you, rubbing your mound so that your wetness seeps out.

“You’re so-” you pant. You tighten your grip on his hair. “What is this?”

His finger eases inside you, staying shallow and finding a place inside that causes your hips to jerk. You cry out, twisting and jerking as his finger thrusts within you. Then, his lips suction like a kiss around your clit, and you’re done for. He sucks as his finger moves, causing your body to spasm, your legs to kick, and your voice to cry out.

You have not felt such a sensation since you were young, and your body is unused to it. You writhe on the furs, gasping for breath and laughing despite yourself. The Orc rises up, stroking his cock, his come smeared between his fingers.

You sit up, still shaking all over. You take his hand and lick his fingers clean, sucking each one and then gazing up at him in awe. 

“Stay with me, then,” he whispers. “From here on out, I will keep you safe.”

“Am I yours now?” you ask with a soft voice.

“Only if you want to be.” The Orc kneels on one knee before you. “I said I would free you, and I have. I also said I would love you if you would have me.”

“You’ve come too late if you expect that.” You lower your eyes. “I can pleasure you as thanks, but I am afraid my years for love have been stolen from me.”

The Orc lets out a bawdy laugh, slapping his knee. “Do not tell me you loved that dead man?” His lip curls.

You shake your head. “Of course not! Never!”

“Then there is still time.” He pats his knee. “Come, sit with me. I have been waiting for this moment for a long time.”

You sniff, folding your hands before you as you gaze at him. “If I am to stay, what will you do with me? What of my girls?”

“Whatever you want,” he replies. “I’ll let you stay, give you work, whatever you need. I will not turn you out.”

“Why would you do this for us?” you whisper. “For me? How can I trust you when I do not understand your reasons?”

The Orc smirks. “Do you not recall?” he asks. “You were once kind for no reason. Now look what your good deed as done.” He stands back, spreading out his arms. “Because of you, Nazrath is dead, and I am now a mighty conqueror.”

You furrow your brow, staring up at him. You recognized the scar on his face, but its meaning didn’t come to you until now. Gasping, your fingers flutter around your lips. “It’s you. The young Orc from the mountains.”

“You remember,” Bodrik smirks. “I made a vow, and I have kept it.”

You shake your head. “But why? Just because of a vow you made as a boy?”

“Because I made it to someone. Had I just made it as a boy, it may not have been fulfilled.” He steps towards you. “But I made that promise to you, and I knew I had to uphold it, or I could never become a man and only remain a child.”

You avoid his eyes and look away from him. “You owed me nothing.”

“I owed you everything.” Bodrik slips his fingers under your chin. “And I will earn you, just as I earned this victory.”

The tears come again and you begin to cry. “But I am worthless!”

Bodrik chuckles. “I ended a war because of you. I killed a king because of you. I am lord of this land because of you. You are treasure vast and untold.” He kissed your neck and cheek, moving you until your lips touch. 

You sigh softly as he pulls away. “I am exhausted,” you whimper.

“Then sleep.” Bodrik points at the bed. “I will leave you alone to rest.”

After dressing, Bodrik leaves and you settle down to sleep on the bed. Looking through the flickering of the torches, you can see Bodrik asleep at the entrance of the tent, his back braced against a support pole.

You shift under the blankets, having taken off your robe to lie naked under the furs. You feel strange. Your whole body has become sensitive since Bodrik made you come with his tongue. Every brush of the fur stirs something in you and makes your skin tingle. Your nipples grow hard, and a dull ache grows in your loins.

You reach down, touching yourself and feeling your wetness. You peer out, seeing Bodrik is still asleep. You run your fingers across your folds, opening yourself up so you can slip them inside.

The image of Bodrik’s virile and strong body is burned into your mind. You can see the muscle, the veins, the thick hair on his arms, chest, and legs. His cock is hard and engorged, throbbing just from looking at you.

Taking your wet fingers, you place them on your tongue, tasting yourself before touching again. You move the furs away and let the cold air flow over your skin. You run your hands down your body, feeling aroused for the first time in so long.

You turn your head to look at Bodrik, and this time you see his eyes. You don’t stop. You continue to touch yourself as he watches. Your eyes are locked together, unflinching. In fact, having him see you this way makes the experience all the richer.

Bodrik stands, walking over the bed and staring down at you. Your fingers keep moving, touching yourself as his gaze becomes molten on your skin. Your hand shakes and you spread your thighs more. Your gasping grows in volume, turning into grunts of desperation. 

Crying out, you come around your fingers. The wetness drips out out of you, becoming cool in the night air. Your breathing is heavy, echoing the flutter of the torches. 

Bodrik bends down, taking your hand and licking each finger clean. His cock rubs against your breast, leaving a string of precome against your skin. The tip presses against your mouth and you lick it, swirling your tongue around him. You kiss down the shaft as his fingers tangle in your hair. Looking up at him through the shadows, you try to find his eyes. Then you take as much of him into your mouth as you can stand. He stretches your jaw, and you gag a bit. 

A low growl fills the tent and Bodrik removes his cock and rubs against your cheek. He presses your head down, smearing your lips against his sack. You lick at the base, moaning for him. His balls are huge and heavy when you hold them in your palm. Nazrath always had what you and the girls called ‘rat testicles’.

Bodrik pushes you back down onto the bed, his hand on your throat. He leans down, nuzzling between your breast before his tongue laps over a teat. He moves on top of you, his great body warm and hard.

You grab his wrist, holding him there as he moves into place. Without a word his cock is at your folds. You let out a pleasured gasp and roll your hips to meet him.

“Give it to me,” you pant.

Bodrik chuckles. “Of course,” he purrs as he guides himself inside.

Your vision goes hazy for a moment - you are not used to something so big. He stretches you, almost painfully so. His laugh fills the room and you mewl out in pleasure. When he moves you can feel tremors down to your core. The pain changes into a pleasure you’ve never experienced, and you become like clay for him to mold.

Bodrik’s voice grows animalistic and primal as he drives himself into you, mixing with your own cries. His burly hands grip your thighs so hard that you’re sure there will be bruises. His mouth sinks around your breast, biting and tugging on your nipples.

Your inner walls squeeze tight, and for an instant things are still. Time halts, your breathing fades, and stars fall into your eyes. Inside everything is hot and liquid. Bodrik’s cock twitches, filling you to overflowing.

“That’s it,” he growls. “Take it. Take all of it.”

You close your eyes, breathing deep until he lays on top of you. You wrap your arms around him, giggling softly.

“Let me see,” he growls. Bodrik pulls away and you whimper. He looks at your folds, seeing what he has done. With a grin, he cups his hand over your entire mound. “Tell me,” he breathes, “is that another victory for me?”

You nod. “Yes.”

Bodrik lays back down, kissing you hungrily. “I have dreamed of this moment for so long. The night I truly kill Nazrath.”

“If only you had made him watch,” you purr. “Bodrik.” You stroke your hand down his face. “What have you done to me?”

“I woke the beast that slumbers inside,” he whispers. “Now tell me, who does it howl for?”

You kiss him, then press your lips to his ear. “You.”