The Ins and Outs of Peacemaking

The Ins and Outs of Peacemaking

Synopsis: Clumsy, bumbling, ginger would-be heroine sneaks into an infamous orc warlord's tent in the night to convince him to leave her village alone. He seduces her. Not finished yet.

	“Ow!” cried the redheaded girl as she tumbled through a bush in the dark of the night, only barely catching herself on the hard earth at the last second. “Stupid plants!” The echoing hoots of an owl nearby were the only reply to her complaint. Rubbing her scraped hands gingerly, she returned to her feet, glancing around nervously. The moon was a thin crescent in the starry sky, and cast an insufficient amount of light down for a bumbling, untrained human’s eyes to function.

	“Stupid moon! Stupid darkness! Stupid mama! Stupid warlords!” the girl, Nephrite, whined as she continued carefully walking through the rows of gnarled oaks that was the Forest of Rivas. By now, her expensive, fine silken garments had been scratched, soiled, and torn in a dozen places, a sight that would bring its proud tailor to tears. Unfortunately, the girl cared not for such trivialities. If she had owned tougher clothes, she would have gladly donned them for this nightly voyage as a meager form of protection from the elements and the foliage. Unfortunately, her mother despised such rough garb upon her beloved daughter, and so the young one was left nothing but her thin white silk dress, trimmed with gold on the hemline, collar, and cuffs, and the sandals she wore for day-to-day activities in the village.

	The cold of the night was nearly as awful as the rapidly accruing bruises and cuts on the girl’s body. Any sane human would have been in their home and either warming themselves by a fire or buried under warm blankets and sharing warmth with their family. Nephrite had foolishly chosen to embark on a perilous crusade that night, sneaking out of the humble shack that served as her home without her stern mother’s knowledge. If she had known, she would have forbidden it and taken measures to prevent it. She had better odds of success if she kept it all a secret. And so the redhead, whining ever still, forayed further and further into the darkness, in search of her goal, the forward camp of the warlord, Viktor.

	A couple of minutes later, the orc known as Kaptin Viktor was sitting cross-legged on the ground, enjoying a tankard of fine mead, lazily sipping at it and staring out through the tied up entrance flap of his tent, watching his men dance and laugh and party around the large fire pit outside, the usual festivities on the day before a raid. His motley party of bandits had achieved grand success in their not-so-righteous activities for the past three years, thanks to his particularly vicious talents in war. While countless hosts of knights and soldiers, other criminal gangs, and even assassins had all come to slay him and stop his rampage across the countryside, they had all failed thanks to his clever strategies and the honed, disciplined strength he and his men commanded.

	As far as he was concerned, the nobles had nobody but themselves to blame for his crimes. He was an up-and-coming captain in their armies who achieved great fame in the wars with the neighboring countries for his feats of arms and feats of command. However, when the war ended, he and his men were all denied the payment they had been promised, and for which they fought and bled and died for. All because their commanding officer was an orc. Most of his men were human, like the nobles. What did they think would happen when a bunch of angry, bloodthirsty, hungry, lonely men with spears, swords, and bows were set loose in the realm with nothing to lose?

	Viktor used to be a man with morals. Used to be. But now, even he had to admit that might controlled everything. The nobles were powerful because of the armies they commanded. The people they ruled. The money they held. He could never fight them directly. But he could harass those armies, kill and rape those people, and steal that money away from their greedy, fat fingers. He had devoted his life to revenge, at any cost. Those bastards would pay. His band of rogues was growing in number and strength. They had successfully stolen several large cannons and crates of shot and barrels of gunpowder and hidden them in the mountains where they could never be found. They were amassing armor, weapons, horses, food, everything a campaign required to be successful. And every skirmish they fought was training for real war. Day by day, raid by raid they marched on, gradually threatening those damned scumbags at the top of the world. Soon, soon his host would be prepared to lay waste to the cities, sacking them and murdering the nobles like the pigs they were.

	A sudden rustling outside his tent sent the malevolent thoughts from the grizzled man’s mind. Another assassin? A drunken soldier stumbling around? Viktor hoped it was an assassin. He was bored. Wait, no, he had a better idea. A female assassin would be much more fun. His manhood was rather parched, and he did not feel like waiting for the morrow to come so that he could sack the village of Wunchester and claim the prettiest beauty there for himself like he usually did. Quietly, the man grabbed his sheathed sword that he never allowed to get more than arm’s length from his body, set his mead aside, and withdrew the blade from the leather scabbard with practiced ease. He stood up and wiped the leftover liquor from his face with the back of his calloused hand, feeling the black stubble that had grown over the day. He would need to shave at dawn again. What a bother.

	He did not have to wait long. A few moments later, a young redheaded girl lifted the baggy leather canvass of the tent off of the ground and crawled under it with the crinkling of leaves beneath her, clearly trying to sneak in. Viktor stared at her, and the girl noticed his gaze moments later, locking eyes with the orc. An uncomfortable, awkward silence settled in, the girl only halfway inside the tent, the orc holding his sword out and slowly raising an eyebrow.

	“Uhm… I know how this must look. I come in peace!” Nephrite said nervously. “Can you take me to your leader? I must meet him and negotiate for the safety of my village.” Viktor did not immediately reply. He briefly scanned her face for any signs of deceit, noting her thick freckles, glowing emerald eyes, and her full, lively, wavy red hair that fell to her shoulders. Then, his eyes zeroed in on the girl’s ample bosom, flattened against the ground, clearly defined under her sheer white silk dress. There was no need for cleavage with a dress like that. He could not resist a small grin. A face and body like that, in that kind of clothing? Definitely an assassin. An incompetent one, judging by the state of her clothes and the amount of noise she had made, but an assassin nonetheless. He had seen much worse over the years.

	“Peace, you say? I am Kaptin Viktor. Let us discuss the terms of this peace,” he said, slashing the rope that held up the front flap to his tent to drop it for privacy. “But first, please undress, mademoiselle. I must check for weapons, you understand.”

	“Oh! Right. That’s important. Yeah. Just gimme a second,” Nephrite said, ditsy and naïve as always. She finished crawling into the tent, breasts dragging heavily on the ground due to their size, and then she climbed to her feet. Without any further ado, clueless of the orc’s leering gaze upon her body, she pulled her dress up and over her head, dropping it on the ground. Her bare, shapely tits, round and firm, featured hard pink nipples, due to the cold of the night. Thankfully, the tent was much warmer and safe from the bitter winds. Upon her waist was a pair of silken lace bloomers, cut short to the very edge of her hips as per her mother’s preference in underwear. They looked more like baggy boyshorts, really. The orc was fascinated by the sight, as few women wore such revealing undergarments. All of her thick, pale, and milky thighs were in plain sight.

	“Is that good enough?” Nephrite asked. “I’m rather chilly and I’d like to get my dress back on.”

	“No, mademoiselle. I must be thorough in my inspection. Please remove your bloomers as well,” Viktor grinned, aware of the tricks of a female assassin. She would now protest and kindly ask to keep them on while they got to know each other a little better, and then she would withdraw a poisoned dagger or needle from them and attempt to slay him. Unfortunately, he had seen this tactic before. It would not work on him.

	“Oh, alright,” Nephrite nodded, understanding completely. Trust was vital to the success of these talks for peace. She reached down and pulled her bloomers off her legs, stepping out of them. Now, her labia was in plain sight, a small, trimmed tuft of red pubic hair just above it. The oblivious girl had never felt self-conscious in her nudity, but ultimately she had no reason to be. She had the voluptuous form inherited from her lewd mother, though she was but fourteen years old, and so was a bit less curvy and a bit more toned from playing games with the boys of the village most of her life. Her wavy red hair, tumbling down in thick locks, was messy and unkempt, reminding the Kaptin of a woman’s hair post-coitus. It was frighteningly arousing.

	The issue, however, was that this assassin was being difficult to figure out. As the yells and laughs of the party outside continued, Viktor carefully eyed up the curvy girl, trying to judge her intentions and the ways she could kill him. “Hmm. You are forthcoming, that is good. But I must examine you more thoroughly, if you would be willing,” the muscled orc said, snorting.

	“Of course, be as thorough as you wish,” the nude girl said, crossing her arms and inadvertently pushing up her breasts, goose bumps forming on her skin from the cold. “I do not desire any sort of suspicion between us.”

	“Of course you don’t,” the orc snorted, sheathing his sword and setting it on a table before walking up to the young girl. As he approached in the dim light of the oil lamp in the corner of the tent, Nephrite took the chance to look him over as well. His dark green skin had a healthy gleam to it. His black hair was pulled back in a long ponytail, and the dark stubble on his chiseled face betrayed a hint of savage manliness that his otherwise refined appearance hid. Nephrite could taste the heavy scent of sweat and hormones emanating from him. She had never seen an orc before, as they were a rarity in that country. Something about his smell was attractive to her, though she could not understand it, young and clueless as she was.

	Then, Viktor reached out and cusped his hand over her tender flower. The girl glanced down in confusion. “Why are you touching my no-no bits?” she asked as his thick, warm, and coarse fingers slowly rubbed back and forth over her labia. “It’s bad to touch no-no bits, the priest said so!” she said, though she made no move to stop him. She simply watched in a mixture of awe and confusion as warm, bubbly sensations slowly flowed up from her accosted loins. The orc, on the other hand, marveled at this reaction. An assassin would have been well acquainted with such acts.

	Now curious, he continued to play with her lower lips, feeling them heat up from both the friction of her soft flesh dragging against his hand and as blood slowly filled them with arousal. Her clitoris emerged, hard against his palm. Then, a small drop of womanly lubricant spilled upon his finger from her tight, virgin hole. He grinned wide, and the girl glanced up with an open mouth to look at him, struggling to find words to express herself.

	She did not understand what she was feeling, but it felt far too good and natural for her to protest it. Instead, a weak moan erupted from her mouth. “This feels… naughty!” she gasped.

	“It is rather naughty, isn’t it?” Viktor chuckled at the girl’s naivete. He found himself eager to sample her nubile flesh, and his manhood was already forming a tent in his loose trousers.

	“S-should we be doing this?” Nephrite asked.

	“Do you want to stop?” the Kaptin said. His index finger began rubbing between the puffy outer lips of her pussy, feeling the even softer pink flesh beneath them, and finding her hole, which he tickled. The redhead’s thighs twitched around his hand from the sensation.

	“Uhm, no,” she said. There was much that she was not sure of, but she was positive that she liked this.

	“Good,” he said, suddenly pressing his thick middle finger into her passage. The girl swallowed back saliva as she felt it pushing deeper and deeper, wiggling between her folds, until it was stopped by a thin, slightly elastic flesh. “A virgin?” he asked in surprise. He had expected to find some sort of exotic weapon in there, but all he found was her maidenhead. The orc rapidly re-evaluated the girl before him. She was definitely no assassin.

	“I feel really warm and gooey,” the redhead whined.

	“Do you like it?”

	“Y-yeah. It’s strange but I like it.” The orc snorted at that.

	“Who are you, exactly?” he asked.

	“Nephrite. Nephrite of Wunchester,” she answered, looking up at his eyes, mouth hanging open slightly as she began to rock against his fingers.

	“Named for the gem, I reckon. You're a local?”

	“Yes, I live just through the forest. You are Warlord Viktor, are you not?” she asked.

	“I am. So you really came here to discuss terms of peace? Why not your elders or leader?”

	“They refuse to negotiate for peace. My mother said that we’d all be burned and raped if they did not, but they did not listen to her. I-I want to make things right. We do not wish to die!”

	“I see. My envoy for peace was rejected, you know. I offered to leave you all alone if you gave me what I asked for.”

	“I know! And it’s wrong! Fighting is bad! Please don’t attack us in the morrow!” Nephrite said strongly, the force of her will apparent to the Kaptin through the shimmering of her bright green eyes. He slowly slipped another one of his fingers into her muff, rubbing her insides roughly with them. It was not long before lewd juices began to wet her passage and his hand. The girl gasped again, knees shaking by now.

	“Fighting may be bad, but it is something that I must do. I need your resources for myself and my men to survive the coming winter.”

	“Why do you have to fight?” Nephrite continued, refusing to back down, despite the fingers sliding in and out of her rhythmically that made her feel dizzy and lightheaded.

	“Because I must have revenge, for myself, and for the men who have fallen under me. The nobles must die for their crimes!” Viktor declared loudly.

	“What’s so great about… hah… mmm… revenge?” the redhead persisted, her pussy throbbing twice in rapid succession around his fingers from the pleasure. She broke in a light panting, the goosebumps gone from her delicate skin, replaced by the heat of lust. The orc, fascinated and charmed by the beautiful girl, reached out with his other hand to grab one of her great breasts, squeezing and caressing it as it heaved with her breathing.

	“Revenge is justice, and this world needs justice,” the orc said, though he was starting to lose focus on the conversation as well due to the girl’s bountiful bosom being so firm and squishy in his hand. Unbeknownst to him, the girl had allowed several boys in the village play with her jugs in secret, as their puberty had brought with it an odd desire to sample the flesh of the opposite sex. She always liked the attention, but never understood it due to her silly head. Now she was starting to understand it. She remembered the conversation they were having, but it was really the last thing on her mind at this point.

	“Killing isn’t justice, killing is wrong, even if you’re doing it to a bad person,” she said.

	“Sometimes, people just need to be killed,” he said.

Viktor’s guard, up before due to the perceived danger, was now solidly down, and his manhood was now solidly up. He had been slowly inching towards her for the past few minutes, and by now, the bulge in his pants was so large that it brushed against her navel. The rumors that flittered around about orcs were true, at least in the Kaptin’s case. More than a few assassins had been “persuaded” to defect to his cause with his hidden greatsword. What he did not expect was for the girl to reach out and unbuckle his belt to drop his trousers for him out of curiosity, revealing his massive dark green sex implement that swung up eagerly without the cloth to hold it back.

	“Wow,” Nephrite gasped, looking at it with a lustful hunger in her eyes. Her natural instincts, buried behind her ditsy personality, were slowly emerging. “It’s all big and veiny and throbby! I’ve never seen a man’s stick before!” Gingerly, she reached out a hand to touch it, and it pulsed upwards as her soft fingers ran over the engorging skin. She could feel her desire growing as she observed the massive shaft, and reflexively grabbed it with both hands, feeling the blood slowly pulsing through it with every one of his heartbeats. Viktor groaned, her soft fingers tentatively caressing and stroking him experimentally. He was really horny now.

	“But you’re still wrong about that! Even if there are bad people in the world, killing itself is a bad thing!” the girl suddenly blurted out, just as things were starting to pick up.

	“Damn it,” the orc growled, pulling his fingers out of her snatch to grope her other delectable tit. “Shut up and lay down! We can talk about peace later!”Wordlessly, with a sort of nubile excitement and curiosity at what was to come, Nephrite quickly walked to the mass of deer, bear, tiger, and lion hides that served as the warlord’s bedroll. She laid down on it, though her arousal made her confused about what way she should do so. The orc sighed at her awkwardness.

	“Look, just lay on your back and spread your legs,” he said as he pulled his coat, shirt, belt, boots, and finally, his trousers off, revealing his large, toned muscles. The girl found herself feeling even funnier at the sight of the orc’s nude, chiseled form. He was quite a looker. She eagerly spread her thighs wide, shamelessly showing her soaked crotch to the Kaptin, wet and thick with desire.

	The orc required no further foreplay, and he laid down over the girl, hands planted firmly on either side of her head for balance. He slowly lowered his hips down, pushing his solid cock head against her tight hole that gleamed with juices. She breathed heavily, her breasts that were flattened with gravity heaving up and down slightly with each inhale and exhale. In and out, the air from her lungs went. In and out. In, his rod went, piercing her hymen with the girth of an orc. She groaned in pain as the manhood tore deeper and deeper inside of her, stirring up her insides with its size and the force behind his thrust. Then, after leaving it still inside of her for a moment – only a moment, only long enough for her to catch her breath and gather her thoughts -  he withdrew. Out, his penis went, leaving only a sensation of emptiness behind. She gasped and grunted, writhing beneath him from the discomfort of her lost virginity.

	“That hurts!” she finally managed to say, but her words were lost on her lover, as he was already entering her again, slamming even more of his length inside of her in one smooth motion. As each centimeter pushed in, her pussy throbbed around him, thighs twitching and shaking when he reached a part inside of her that jolted with pleasure and sensation. Then, with one last effort, and a grunt, he forced his remaining centimeters in, all to way to his hilt. He was quite impressed with her depth, as most women could not handle having his full size buried inside of them. Her tightness and softness were exquisite, a true rarity. The warm lubricant that coated his manhood was copious, and he could feel it starting to drizzle down his ballsack.

	"Damn, that's phenomenal," he said to himself, grunting and squeezing his body to hold back the urge to blow his load so early. “How do you feel?”
	“It’s really hot inside of me… I feel like it’s filling me up,” Nephrite panted, unable to look anywhere but between her breasts to see his meat slowly sliding in and out of her gash. “It’s so deep… I can feel it… rubbing, scratching that itch…”

	“Do you want me to keep going?”

	“Yes! It feels a lot better now,” she said, her lewd instincts rapidly overwhelming any other feelings or sensations. Without further ado, Viktor began slowly, rhythmically pumping her, watching her squirm, moan, and chew her lip beneath him with proud glee. Soon, the wet sound of sweaty flesh slapping against sweaty flesh echoed with each thrust of his hips into her. Both could smell the musk of each other’s scent – and it only served to drive both into heightened sexual arousal, smelling the healthy hormones that each gave off to the other. He grunted, and she moaned. He fucked her, and she gasped.

Before long, instinct told Nephrite to lock her legs around her lover, so she slowly wrapped them around his back even as he continued to plow her. The additional skin contact – the sharing of their heartbeats, between one another – proved to be more than either could bear. “So great!” the girl gasped out loud, and the Kaptin could only grunt in agreement with her. They both panted like dogs as the pace picked up, accelerating faster and faster towards the inevitable climax ------

	“Shit! Hnnngh!” the orc groaned, his face contorting, teeth grinding, as he attempted to hold back the tide of cum surging from his balls. Unfortunately, it was futile. Half a second later, his thick white semen exploded deep within her, and he gave several powerful, heavy pumps to try and maximize the unbearable pleasure for himself. Finally, he buried his dick all the way in, his balls twitching and cock throbbing visibly with each splurt into her deepest depths. The nubile girl panted, her eyes shut in ecstasy as she felt his manhood work out each splash of cum.

However, as the warlord slowly removed himself from her quim and rolled over to the other side of the animal hides, she could not help but feel less than satisfied. That itch in her loins was still there, worse than ever before, and because she could feel something dense trickling out of her passage, she could tell that he had gotten the better end of that encounter.

	“Is-is that it?” she asked, confusion settling in again.

	“What do you mean, ‘is that it’?” the orc said.

	“I thought there would be something more than that. I felt like I was going to fly or something for an instant there!”

	“Are you… are you saying you didn’t finish?” he asked, a foul dread emerging in his heart. He’d never heard that before.

	“Well, I don’t know what that is, but yes, I feel unsatisfied,” Nephrite sat up and shrugged. “Was I supposed to be feeling as good as you? It was nice, really nice, but…”

	“Yes, you were supposed to be feeling as good as me! Better, even! No girl has ever not reached release from my Little Warlord!”

	“Well, I didn’t. Was that breeding, like the animals do?”

	“It’s called sex when people do it!” Viktor groaned, rubbing his face.

	“I like sex! But I’m a little disappointed, too… Mama said it would be something really special that I should save for marriage.”

	“It is something special!”

	“I don’t know about that…”

	“Argh! I will not stand for this! Begone, girl!” the orc roared, his wounded pride getting the better of him, shoving her off of his warm animal skins with callous force. She pouted and bristled.

	“You… you insipid ape!” Nephrite yelled, fury like she had never felt before bubbling up to the surface. She grabbed her bloomers and dress and pulled them both on before lifting up his tent’s canvass and storming out into the forest again, anger clouding her mind. It would only be when she had snuck back into her home and laid on her bed that she would recall why she went there in the first place, and then her outrage would be replaced with sorrow and despair at forgetting her purpose and failing at her task due to her capricious personality, just like so many other times in her life.

	While the callous, hardened warlord simply shrugged, finished his mead, and flopped down on his bedroll to sleep, the beautiful girl cried herself to sleep.