Azrael's skull felt like it had been used as an anvil.

He slumped against the cage bars every breath of his pulling in the thick stench of sweat and woodsmoke that was like saturated the hut. His muscles screamed from the earlier fight—some gladiatorial nonsense for the orcs' entertainment and he knew rest wasn't coming anytime soon.

'Charisma boost. Fucking brilliant, System.' He would've laughed if it didn't hurt to move. 'I ask for a weapon and you give me a pretty face. What good is charm when these green bastards see me as their next meal?'

The hut door groaned open. Heavy footfalls shooked the floor and then she filled the doorway—the Orc Queen herself. Light died behind her massive frame.

She was all brutal muscle and tusks her green skin was mapped with pale scars from battles Azrael didn't want to imagine. Her dark eyes flicked to him, quick and assessing like she was evaluating a tool she might discard later.

Then she looked away as if he didn't exist.

She strode past his cage and dropped onto her throne with enough force to rattle the bones and things in the place.

Azrael watched through half-closed eyes, too exhausted to do much else.

'Perfect. Back to being furniture. She's probably deciding whether to roast me or just tear me apart raw.' If he could actually move without his ribs protesting, he might try using that so-called charisma. "Hey there, Your Majesty, how about we talk this out instead of you eating me?" Yeah, that'll go over real well.

Time crawled. She sat with arms folded, staring at the far wall but her gaze kept sliding back to him. Brief glances. Calculating. Like she was appraising something valuable she might claim. The chains rattled when Azrael shifted trying to find a position that didn't make everything hurt worse.

Stop looking at me like that. I'm not a prize. I'm barely holding together. Though with his Luck stat sitting at 50 now, maybe he was exactly the kind of prize that got claimed first.

The silence stretched. Torchlight flickered across her broad shoulders while she drummed thick fingers against the throne's armrest each one wider than his wrist.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Azrael's mind spun through increasingly desperate scenarios.

'Alright, escape options. The Thread ability? Too weak, she'd snap them like cobwebs. Scream for help? They'd probably just laugh and place bets. Beg? No, fuck that, They will again mock me. He paused, reconsidering. Wait... charisma. Maybe I could talk my way out of this'. "Your Majesty, I'm nothing but bones and bad jokes. Hardly worth the effort of cooking."

BANG!

Her foot slammed into the floor. The entire hut shuddered. Dirt sifted down from the rafters. Azrael's heart hammered against his ribs.

'What the hell was that? Is that how she shows she's thinking? Stay calm, Kenji. Don't give her a reason to test how flat she can stomp you.'

She rose slowly and deliberately. Each step sent tremors through the ground. She moved straight toward the cage her eyes fixed on the lock. One massive hand wrapped around the bars.

Her muscles bunched, veins standing out like cords beneath green skin. With a casual twist

CRACK

the metal warped like wire. The door popped open. Bits of twisted steel clattered to the dirt.

Azrael stared. That's not just strength. That's the kind of power that doesn't leave survivors.

She reached in and took his hand. Not roughly, not gently just firmly like grabbing a rope. Her palm engulfed his, calloused skin scraping against his.

She pulled him out. His legs nearly buckled, having apparently forgotten their primary function. She didn't look at his face. Just guided him across the room, past the throne, toward a partitioned area curtained off with animal hides.

The hide flap fell shut behind them. A single torch guttered in a wall sconce. Furs were piled into something resembling a bed. The smell hit him earth and musk and something distinctly animal.

Azrael's thoughts stuttered to a halt.' This isn't an execution chamber. So what the fuck is this? A talk? No. Those looks she kept giving me. The way she's still holding on.' Realization crashed over him like cold water. 'Oh hell no. System, I would very much like a do-over right now.'

She released his hand and turned to face him. Her chest rose and fell, straining against a rough leather strap that covered very little. Tusks caught the torchlight. She towered over him by a full head, twice as wide across the shoulders. But there was a curve to her hips, a shift in her stance that spoke of ownership and confidence.

Not gentleness. Power. Like a wall you wanted to touch even knowing it would crush you.

Her fingers went to the leather strap. Unhooked it with practiced ease. It dropped. Her breasts came free—heavy and full, moving with her breathing. Green skin pulled taut, nipples dark and hard. Light scars traced across her sides, trophies made of unknown metal from whatever battles had made her queen. She kicked off her boots, then stripped away her hide skirt in one motion. It hit the dirt with a soft thump.

Naked, Legs like carved pillars, thighs packed with muscle that shifted smoothly beneath her skin. Her stomach was flat and marked with the thin white lines of old wounds, tapering down to dark hair between her legs.

Her ass was solid, curved just enough to be called feminine despite the raw power in her build. She stood without shame, eyes locked on him. Easily twice his size, sure. But the flare of her hips, the arch of her back it was deliberately provocative. A queen built to rule, a body that demanded submission.

Azrael swallowed hard. 'Think this through. Run? My legs won't hold. Fight back? She'd fold me in half without trying. This charisma boost did I accidentally charm a fucking monster? She's massive. This is going to break me.'

She closed the distance. Loomed over him. One hand pressed against his shoulder which was not hard but his knees gave out anyway.

He hit the furs. She swung a leg over him, straddling his hips, thighs clamping down like a vice. Her hands found his shirt and tore it apart in one violent pull. Buttons scattered. His pants followed, shredded with casual ease. Cold air hit his skin, then her warmth pressed down, overwhelming.

Her hand wrapped around his cock. Tested him, stroking the thickening shaft with a firm grip that made his balls tighten.

He jerked involuntarily, hardening despite everything—nerves and that goddamn System boost working against his better judgment, his cock throbbing hot and heavy in her calloused palm.

'Why the fuck is this happening? Is this a bug? Does she actually like scrawny humans? I need to stop this before—'

She positioned him. He could feel the wet heat of her pussy waiting, slick folds parting as she rubbed the swollen lips against his cockhead. She lowered herself slowly, taking him in bit by bit.

Azrael gasped pain lanced through him, sharp and immediate. She was tight despite her size, her pussy gripping his cock hard enough to hurt, velvet walls clenching around every inch like a fist. But she kept pushing down, a low rumble building in her chest. Not pleasure. Just dominance.

Then she started moving. Up and down, riding him with steady, merciless rhythm. Her breasts bounced with each thrust, heavy against her chest. Her hands pinned his shoulders, nails digging in just hard enough to warn without drawing blood.

She controlled everything the speed, the angle, the intensity. Azrael's world narrowed to the sensation of her hips slamming down, the wet slap of skin on skin.

Pain mixed with jolts of unwanted sensation, his body responding even as his mind reeled, her pussy milking his cock with ruthless squeezes that dragged along his length.

'This hurts like hell. Everything's on fire. But the slide, the pressure... damn it. 'He tried to stay silent, tried to maintain some shred of dignity. 'Don't make noise. That's surrendering. Just hold on and—fuck!'

A groan tore out of him, loud and involuntary. She grinned, tusks gleaming. Sped up. Her ass slapped against his thighs with sounds that echoed off the walls.

Sweat slicked her green skin, running between her breasts. She leaned forward slightly, thick hair falling to tickle his chest. Her scent wrapped around him earth and smoke and raw desire, her pussy drooling hot juices down his balls.

He thrust up reflexively. Pain spiked through his back. Too much.' She's completely in control. I'm going to—no, fight it oh shit.'

It hit him anyway. Tension coiled unbearably tight. Her inner walls squeezed, pulled. He came with a raw cry, wordless and defeated, spilling thick ropes of semen deep into her pussy.

She didn't stop. Rose off him slowly. His semen leaked out, white streaks against his spent cock, dripping onto the furs. She stood, breathing steady.

Azrael gasped, sides heaving. Done. Finally. I survived. Might be limping for the rest of my life, but I'm still breathing.

Then she moved again.

She grabbed his arms and flipped him effortlessly, face-down. Straddled him again, but this time pressed her full weight onto his back. Her breasts smothered him, warm and heavy, nipples dragging across his mouth.

She sank down onto him again easier this time, slick from before, her pussy swallowing his half-hard cock in one greedy slide but still completely in control. She ground her hips in circles, sparking bright stars of pain-pleasure behind his eyes, her slick walls churning his shaft in messy, semen-lubed heat.

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