The Price of Freedom

~Price of Freedom
Tags: HalflingxOrc

    Night makes everything seem louder. The orc's heartbeat pulsed so loud that it drowned out the screams and cries of the pursuing mercenaries. His footfalls beat into the ground like a hammer on anvil, echoing through the moonlit, treacherous viridian. The forest afforded nothing but tribulation, roots and branches that jutted out at odd angles, random undergrowth and increasingly agitated wildlife that threatened to impede his progress.
    Scrambling through the woods, the orc's mud-caked, braided teal hair kept getting caught on twigs and branches, ensuring that even when he found soft, quiet ground to tread on, there were still snaps to alert his pursuers to his presence. It didn't help that green skin stood out in night time.
    A light shone from between the trees, and while every conscious thought he had told him that it was unwise to head to it, he knew he could only outrun them for so long. He gathered himself and sprinted headlong for it, traversing the large ditch near the source with a mighty leap, clinging onto a tree for support. The loss of footprints might lose them for a moment or two.
    He clambered up the hillside and emerged in the faint lantern light of the cottage. A couple animals here and there, a couple of vegetable patches, but hardly what one would call a farm. However the stead was self-sufficient, which meant food and drink. He gazed at the windows to see if anyone was watching before making his way down to the stead, heading straight for the cellar door.
    Luck was not on his side, the door was locked. He glanced about, satisfied that he was alone, he crept around the house, looking for anything that would hide him. Quickly realising that there were little in the way of external nooks and crannies, he chanced a glance through the window, seeing a rather squat interior that was only sparsely furnished and had no signs of life.
    He crept in, being sure to close the door silently behind him, the screams and yells from the mercenaries were drawing nearer. The little cottage had such a low roof that he found himself crawling just so he wouldn't smack his head on anything. It only took a couple of moments for him to find the hatch to the cellar. He lifted the trapdoor, glancing under it to make sure that there would be no one below who would notice his passage.
    Closing the trapdoor as gingerly as he could above him, he crept down the stairs, a quick survey told him that there was no one there. He let himself give a gentle sigh before searching for a nook he could hide in. There was barely anything down there aside from foodstuffs and wine. He leant against a bare patch of stone wall to catch his breath, but when his relaxed elbow swung into the wall, it hit a tiny little hidden latch that opened the wall.
    With a cry, he fell backwards slamming into the floor of an even tinier section of cellar. He tried to clamber, rolling over and pushing himself upwards.
    CLANG!
    He registered the impact on the base of his skull, but immediately after it was lights out.

    ***

    He awoke, this time in the centre of the cellar floor. Kneeling on his chest was a diminutive girl that he initially mistook for a human child. She cocked her head, strands of dirty-blonde hair falling on her face. She gave a sweet smile that seemed rather off considering she had a frypan in hand. She definitely wasn't human, the proportions were wrong for it. He quickly clicked on to key details, that made sense even through is nearly-concussed daze. Pointed ears, like an elf but not as long, adult proportions on a body that was barely three feet tall, a house designed to accommodate that height.
    He had to ask, "What's a gnome doing in these parts?"
    CLANG!
    For a man accustomed to taking hammer blows to the face, that frypan still hurt.
            "Do I look like my head's the size of my torso?" She narrowed her amber eyes.
    The orc chewed his lip, "Halfling. What's a halfling doing in these parts?"
            "Better!" the girl became chipper again, giving a smile so wide she closed her eyes. Just as quickly, her face became a stern mask, "Because this is my home in case you can't tell. What's an orc doing breaking into it?"
            "Hiding..." the orc tried to rise but discovered in the attempt that he was bound, wrists tied behind his back, ankles bound together.
            "From who?"
            "How long have I been out?" demanded the orc
            "Not telling..." the halfling had a wicked grin that made the orc a little unsettled, "How about we start with a name... and who are those people I heard squelching through the woods?"
            "My name is Warwick," said the orc, "and they were mercenaries!"
            "Mercenaries? my, my, someone is upset with you mister orc! Pray tell, why would mercenaries be hired to chase your sorry hide?"
            "Maybe because I killed a few people?" the orc made a point to flash his pointed teeth and jut the tusks protruding from hid bottom jaw.
            "I knocked you out with a frypan and tied you up while you were sleepy-byes, if you think you can scare me, you're sorely mistaken mister Warwick. Real reason, or I tell those mercenaries I've got you bound down here. If I think you're lying at any point, I'll beat you down with the frypan."
            "Because I set fire to their headquarters, long story but they specialise in 'pest control'."
            "Was is the Dead Leaves company?"
            "Yes it was."
            "Those guys chasing you were Dead Leaves?"
            "Yes."
            "Did any of them die?"
            "I heard about three voices screaming in the flames, killed two to get into this forest."
            "Good!" the halfling was chipper again, this time tossing aside her frypan, "that means I don't have a guilty conscience."
            "Excuse me?" asked the orc as the halfling started to undo his binds.
            "They tried to beat down me door saying that they knew you were in here and that I was going to be executed for harbouring a fugitive. They didn't even give me a choice or chance to explain..."
    Warwick glanced at the frypan, for the first time he noticed that it was caked in blood.
            "I mean, I have no issue with humans but those guys are dicks. They hate everyone that isn't a human by the way, refer to us all collectively as 'sub-humans'. Jerks..."
            "What did you do to them?"
    She smirked, "Did you know that meat makes for good fertiliser?"
    Warwick blinked, unsure if he wanted to know more, "Who... are you?"
            "Just a simple halfling looking for a quiet existence. Away from jerks and arseholes and other assorted dicks."
            "Does this simple halfling have a name?" he asked.
    She shrugged as she finished undoing Warwick's feet, "Bethany is what I was called back when it mattered. Haven't seen much in the way of friendly faces up in these parts for some years. Used to be a halfling village not five miles up the road..." her face hardened, "used to be..."
    Bethany became cheery again as she pulled all of his binds off and tossed the rope aside, "So in reality you could say we're in this one together."
    The orc sighed, "If you say so, I intend to vanish the moment I get my bearings,"
    Bethany chuckled as she dusted off her simple dress, "you'll die in these woods lost and alone if you're not careful. I know my way around, but that means in a way I'll be sticking my neck out for you, there's no way you'll make it far without food, water and some tinder."
    Warwick raised an eyebrow, "I suppose you're not going to part with them for free."
    Bethany shrugged, "Everyone places value in something"
    Unsure of what she meant by that, Warwick weighed his options. Bethany was a capable combatant who was running her own self-sustaining property. He was an escaped prisoner who only really knew how to fight. He realised about the only thing he could offer was his time, as clumsy as that would be.
            "I suppose you want me to help you around the place in exchange for some bread?"
    Bethany smirked as she clambered back onto him, her tiny, delicate fingers pressing into his tunic, "not what I had in mind..." her face reddened, "As I've no doubt made clear... it gets lonely..."
            "Call me dim, but you've lost me..."
    Bethany clambered backwards, resting on her knees and between Warwick's legs. She reached forward, pulling the orcs trousers down, and then sliding her hands back up towards his flaccid member.
            "I've heard stories of the girth and... prowess... of orcs..." she clasped his cock in her hands and leant forward, giving the head a couple of quick pecks before wrapping her lips around the head, slipping her tongue around knob a few times to try and liven it.
            "Uhh... Bethany."
    The halfling was too absorbed in what she was doing to bother responding, the cock was hardening with every lick and every gentle tug she managed, before long Warwick indicated to her that he wasn't going to get any bigger, which made Bethany giggle a little.
            "I think that's big enough, oh, wow!"
    Eight inches long, two inches diameter. Warwick was a little on the larger side for an orc, but not excessively massive for his kind. For Bethany however, she started to question if her body could even take it.
            "Tell you what, you just... lie there..." said Bethany, "I want to enjoy this after all!"
    Warwick shrugged, he wasn't about to argue.
    Bethany tugged at his member a little, an action that required both hands considering the monumental size difference. She then opened her mouth once more and started sucking on the head, her tongue flicking around to moisten it. She withdrew for a moment and took a deep breath.
    Putting her lips back around the orc knob, her brow furrowed as she focused, slowly sliding her lips down his shaft, taking as much of the member as she physically could. She leant forward, raising her whole body to open her throat enough to take it. She gulped about half way down to suppress the gag reflex as she continued, determined to get to the base. Steadily, slowly, she slipped her way down, flexing to tongue to massage the shaft as she did so.
    Eventually, she reached the base. She made good time too, she was nearing the point where she couldn't hold her breath any longer and her gag reflex was starting to kick. She summoned as much saliva as she could muster and slipped back up, depositing as much lubrication on the member as she could as she rose.
    When she withdrew from it entirely, she gasped for breath, threads of spit still connecting her mouth to the cock, the distinct taste of pre-cum in her mouth.
            "Oh my, that was hard..." she stroked the shaft a little to massage around the moistness, "I think I might just be able to pull this off..."
    In a flurry of whirling cloth, she yanked off her dress and tossed it aside. It wasn't the time for ceremony or foreplay, Bethany was far too excited to fluster about with the niceties. She was relieved to be naked in fact, she was so tightly wound that even the mere sight of a cock had her dripping wet, and she intended to correct that state of affairs.
    Warwick on the other hand was fine just relaxing, he even found her rather pretty for a halfling. She wasn't quite curvaceous but she was well endowed for her size, for them to be the size of an apple as, proportionately speaking, quite large. He reached forward with his hands and began massaging them, barely a handful to him, but for her it was likely she'd never had a lover who could wrap his hands around the entire breast. She shuddered a little and pressed against him, coaxing the rhythm and direction of his fondling with her hands.
    The other thing he noticed was how well she took care of herself, he didn't notice it too well in the dim light before, but she was well groomed, clean for someone who lived off the land alone. She even shaved her body, pubes included. His eyes drew down to her pussy as she massaged it a little to get everything ready, beginning with a gentle massage of the clit, followed by her exploration of her own pussy. She quickly worked up to two fingers, making galloping 'come hither' motions to get the juices flowing, before drawing her hand to her mouth and licking the fingers clean.
    She writhed forward, sliding up the shaft, grinding against him with her clit, before moving up to the tip. She parted the lips with one hand and directed the cock in with the other. She worked slowly, tentatively. She managed to take the entirety of the head before stopping, letting out a gasp and a wince.
            "Gods above..." she writhed on the spot for a time, letting out a couple of moans as she did, "I've been missing out, holy hells..."
    Warwick started thrusting, soft and gentle to begin with, but increasingly firm as he went.
    Bethany let out a gasp as her body slowly adjusted to the gargantuan member, slowly working to accommodate the girth. As she found herself slipping farther down on the cock, she reached a finger down and starting massaging her clit once more, trying to control her shuddering breaths as she did.
    Some time passed like this, but soon Bethany noticed her stomach moving oddly with every thrust. She had slipped right to the base of the cock and every thrust was sinking into her gut, so much so that Warwick stopped out of concern.
            "I will hit you again if you don't start thrusting right now!" Bethany managed between laboured breaths. Not wanting a concussion, Warwick continued, and Bethany stared down in amazement as she could see her tummy bulging around the gigantic cock, impressed with herself that she managed to comfortably take the whole member.
    She played with her clit again, this time not bothering with controlling her breath or her pace, just letting it all come out in the moaning and the exaltations of all the gods watching.
            "Come on mister Warwick!" she pleaded, "treat me like one of your orc women!"
    Warwick grunted, "Are you sure!?"
            "Just fuck me like you mean it!"
    Warwick didn't object, he moved his hands away from Bethany's breasts, which she immediately too up and started massaging of her own accord. He wrapped his fingers around her hips and pulled out almost all the way, so that he could feel her vulva on his head.
            "Ready?"
            "Just fuck me," she moaned.
    Warwick sighed, okay...
    He trust hard and deep, sinking his cock as deep into her body as he possibly could, pushing down on her hips with all his might. Bethany let out a yelp, "Don't... stop!" she pleaded.
    He pulled out again and thrust the same way, this time using the momentum to bounce her up and thrust again yet harder. His speed increased, pounding the tiny woman with his fleshy piledriver.
    Bethany's moans eventually congealed into a string of uninterrupted screams, she reached for the orc, only managing to reach his stomach from her position, and instinctively looked for handholds. Her fingernails sank into his skin, pressing harder and tightening with each and every thrust.
    Within moments, Bethany's pussy tightened, clamping down on his cock tighter than anything Warwick had ever felt and for him it felt divine. As Bethany started shaking and convulsing to the whims of her own body, she silenced her own moans for a moment before arcing back and letting out one almighty yelp.
    Warwick was having trouble controlling himself, but the sudden relaxing of Bethany's body informed him of what had happened, and that it was safe to let loose. He pounded her as hard as he possibly could to the chorus or Bethany's quietening moans.
    She let out a shuddering call as he blew his load inside her, the sudden warmth filling inside her came as a pleasant shock as he slowed down and started massaging all over her body to help her calm down.
            "My gods..." Bethany murmured, "I'll... I'll put breakfast on for us..." she pulled herself off of him and scooped up some of the cum oozing out of her pussy and tasted it.
            "Do you think you'll be recovered in twenty minutes? because I know what condiment I want with my toast now..."