I reaffirmed with a shaky breath that nearly broke halfway through, my voice coming out thin and trembling. "That's... gods, that's your condition? Sex? That's what you want in exchange for—for basic information about your background?"

Grisha's grin widened, all teeth and tusks gleaming in the firelight. "That's exactly what I want. And let's be honest, little one—you walked into my room, interrupted my fucking, and now you're lying on my floor with your cock hard and leaking despite the fact that you just came in your panties like a desperate slut." She traced one finger down my chest, pressing just hard enough to make me gasp. "Your body knows what it wants even if your brain is trying to pretend otherwise."

"I—there has to be another way," I stammered, trying desperately to weave my way out of this situation while my treacherous cock continued throbbing against the ruined fabric of my underwear. "We could negotiate, come to some kind of arrangement that doesn't involve—"

"Doesn't involve me fucking you till you can't remember your name?" Grisha interrupted, her voice dropping into a low, guttural growl that sent a molten shiver straight to my core, lighting every nerve with raw terror and a shameful flood of slick, aching arousal. "Let me make this crystal fucking clear. You don't have a choice. I'm going to fuck you regardless of what you say, regardless of how you beg, plead, or try to talk your way out. The only question is whether you fight me and make it rough, or relax and let me make it good for you."

Before I could formulate a response—before I could do anything except stare up at her with wide eyes—her hands were on my clothes.

She gripped my blouse at the collar and yanked, the fabric tearing completely with a sound like ripping paper as I yelped in suprise.

My skirt followed immediately after, her fingers finding the edge near my waist and pulling with such force that the entire garment simply disintegrated.

I gasped at the loss, the sudden exposure making my skin prickle with goosebumps despite the oppressive heat of the room. "Those were—I needed those—you can't just—" I tried, voice pitching higher into a frantic "hnn—!"

She wasn't listening. Instead she continued stripping me until I was left in nothing but my cum-soaked panties. Those came off last, Grisha hooking her fingers into the waistband and tearing them away in one brutal motion that left me completely naked.

My cock sprang out instantly—hard, flushed, and glistening with the thick remnants of my earlier release, bobbing heavily in the air as a final bead of cum welled at the slit and dripped in a slow, silvery string to the furs below.

Then she gripped me by the head—her massive fingers wrapping around my skull with bruising pressure—and yanked me to my knees as she straightened to stand. I found myself at eye level with her crotch, the sight making my breath catch in my throat.

Her pussy hovered mere inches from my face, so close I could feel the radiant heat pulsing from it, every obscene detail exposed in merciless, horrifying clarity under the flickering firelight.

Her outer lips were plump and swollen, flushed a deep, lush green that made my mouth water against my will, glistening obscenely with thick layers of her own slick arousal mingled with Brutus's fresh cum—creamy white strands still oozing slowly from her stretched entrance, dripping in warm, viscous strings that stretched and snapped with every subtle shift of her hips.

The delicate inner petals peeked out, flushed darker and utterly drenched, parting invitingly around her clenching hole—rhythmic, hungry pulses that squeezed out another slow bead of mixed fluids, as if her cunt were breathing, beckoning me closer with every wet, needy contraction.

Higher still, was her clit—throbbing visibly as it pushed free of its slick hood—shiny, engorged, begging to be touched.

Before I could even think to protest—before a single coherent word could form in my spinning mind—Grisha's massive hand clamped tighter in my hair, yanking my head forward with brutal, unyielding strength. My face slammed straight into her dripping cunt with a wet, forceful smack that made me whimper into her folds.

"Mmmph—!" I muffled as the impact buried me instantly.

My nose plunged through the thick patch of her pubic hair, the coarse strands tickling my skin as I was forced to inhale a deep breath that filled my lungs with pure, concentrated orc musk.

The smell was devastating, intoxicating, short-circuiting my thoughts completely, until all I knew was her smell—pungent, fertile, dominant—coating the back of my throat, making my head swim and my cock throb painfully against nothing.

Her swollen outer lips smeared across my mouth and cheeks, hot and slick, parting easily to drench my face in her juices while her clit, fat and throbbing, dragged over the bridge of my nose, pulsing with every roll of her hips.

She groaned above me, a deep, guttural growl that vibrated through her thighs and straight to my core.

She didn't even bother giving me a command—just straddled my face and started rutting like a bitch in heat, hips bucking in nasty, greedy thrusts that slathered her hot, sticky mess across my cheeks, my nose, my lips.

My mouth opened instinctively to gasp for air only to have her taste flood my senses a second later—musky and slightly bitter, mixed with the salt of sweat and the lingering evidence of Brutus's viscous load still drooling from her gaping, freshly-breeded hole.

My mind went absolutely wild, thoughts scattering in every direction as I gripped tight to her thighs, my fingers digging into her muscular flesh as I tried desperately to pull myself back. But her grip on my head was like iron, enhanced with magic beyond my own, and I couldn't move even an inch away from her grinding cunt.

"That's it, you little slut," Grisha grunted, her voice rough with arousal. "Take that fucking tongue and put it to work."

She began grinding harder, her slick and my saliva mixing into a mess that spilled down my chin, dripped onto my chest, coated my neck in sticky warmth.

I recognized then that the best way to get this over with was to satisfy her quicker, to give her what she wanted so intensely that she'd finish and release me. So despite every instinct screaming at me to resist, I began licking deeper.

I focused on her entrance first, pressing my tongue flat against her opening and dragging it upward in long, slow strokes that made her hips stutter, each one pulling a fresh gush of mingled fluids into my mouth—her sharp, tangy cream tangled with the thick ropes of Brutus's spent seed.

Yet still I forced myself to continue, to gather it all on my tongue and swallow it down even as my stomach threatened to rebel.

Then I shifted higher, tracing tight, wet circles around her fat, throbbing clit, teasing the slick hood before flicking the raw tip of my tongue across the sensitive pearl in quick, relentless lashes that jerked her thighs and made her whole body quake like a filthy, desperate animal.

"Fuck yes~" Grisha growled, her grip on my head tightening until I thought my skull might crack. "Just like that, you perfect little whore. Gods, you learn fast. Keep—fuck—keep doing that thing with your tongue, that twisting motion—yes, right fucking there~"

Her praise only made me work harder, some twisted part of me taking satisfaction in her pleasure despite the circumstances.

I alternated between broad strokes and focused attention, reading her reactions through the tremors in her thighs, the way her breathing changed, the sounds she made when I hit her sensitive spots. I pushed my tongue through harder, fucking her with it as deep as I could reach, feeling her inner walls clench around the intrusion, then pulled back to suck her clit between my lips.

Grisha began losing composure completely, her controlled grinding dissolving into frantic bucking, her words becoming incoherent grunts and growls. "Gonna—fuck—gonna cum on your face—make you drink every drop—mark you as mine—"

With one last violent buck of her hips, she began flooding my mouth with her release. It wasn't a gentle flow—it was thick, creamy, and so abundant I couldn't swallow it fast enough.

"Glrk— Hrrk—!" I choked as it filled my mouth completely, spilling out around my lips, coating my tongue in a layer so thick I could feel the texture of it.

Her ravaged cunt spasmed wildly around my buried tongue, squeezing and milking in brutal waves that forced out fresh surges of her spend with each contraction.

Tears pricked at my eyes—from the overwhelming sensation, from the struggle to breathe, from the sheer intensity of having my face being used like this—and my cock, despite everything, gave a few weak spurts that arced through the air before landing on the rug.

Grisha finally pulled back, releasing my head and stepping away slightly. I immediately began coughing, thick loads of her cum spilling from my mouth with each heaving breath. It dripped down my chin in heavy strands, pooled in my lap, and still I could taste it coating every surface of my mouth and throat.

"Please," I managed to gasp between ragged hacks, my voice wrecked and raw. "Please, that's enough, I can't—"

But Grisha was already scooping me up with one arm—just one—before she carried me toward the bed. She crashed down onto the mattress with a thud that rattled the frame, then dragged me between her sprawled thighs, my back pinned to the furnace of her chest, her enormous bulk swallowing me whole.

Before I could even process the position, she grabbed my head again and stuffed my face directly into the damp hollow of her armpit.

My hips shot forward involuntarily, my cock jerking hard enough to ache as I began clawing at Grisha's skin in helpless desperation because the smell was—gods, the smell was detonating.

It wasn't just overwhelming anymore—it was a full sensory assault, a brutal, brain-melting onslaught of concentrated orc musk mixed with sweat and pheromones that seemed designed specifically to break my brain.

"That's it," Grisha murmured, her free hand trailing down my chest, my stomach, getting closer to where my cock was throbbing desperately between my legs. "Breathe me in. Let that scent get deep into your lungs, into your blood. I want you so fucked up on my musk that you can't think straight, that all you can focus on is how badly you need to cum."

Her fingers found my cock then—those fat, calloused fingers wrapping around my length with surprising gentleness. I whimpered the second they made contact, my entire body going rigid with sensation before she gave it a few quick strokes, her grip firm but not overtly painful.

In that very instant, my cock rose back to its full hardness almost immediately, pre-cum already leaking from the tip to coat her fingers.

Grisha gave a low chuckle that rumbled through her chest and into my back. "So fucking responsive. Look at this pathetic cock, already hard again after all that? Gods, you really are a desperate little slut, aren't you?"

She started a lazy, tormenting rhythm—slow at first, almost gentle, her rough palm gliding up and down my throbbing shaft with wicked expertise, every inch of me slick and twitching under her control.

Her thumb ran over the head on each upstroke, gathering the steady river of pre-cum oozing from my slit and spreading it in glossy streaks, turning my whole length into a gleaming, slippery mess that squelched softly with every stroke.

Then she began twisting her wrist, her palm spiraling around my sensitive crown in a corkscrew motion that sent white-hot jolts racing up my spine.

She clamped down harder at the root—squeezing my balls against the base—before easing her grip on the slow drag back up, letting the pleasure simmer and swell.

The combination of her hand on my cock and my face buried in her armpit was devastating. Every breath brought more of her scent, turning my brain to mush, and her stroking was so perfectly calibrated it was driving me insane—fast enough to build pleasure, slow enough to make it last, tight enough to feel incredible, but gentle enough not to hurt.

"It's okay," Grisha murmured, her voice softer now, almost comforting despite the situation. "It's okay to let go. You don't have to fight it anymore. Just relax into it. Let it happen. I've got you. Nothing to be ashamed of—your body knows what it wants, knows what it needs. Just let it out, little one. Cum for me~"

I couldn't take it anymore. The scent, the stroking, the overwhelming sensations—it all crashed together into a wave that swept away every last bit of resistance I had left.

With a muffled cry, I began to cum, my cock jerking violently in her grip. The first spurt was massive, arcing high enough to land on the carpet several feet away—thick, pearly, and painting the red fabric with the evidence of my complete surrender.

Grisha's hand clamped down instantly, her broad palm sealing over the flaring head just in time to catch the rest. Pulse after pulse hammered into her fist. I could feel it—the thick, gooey load spurting out from between her digits where they couldn't quite contain it all, pooling in her palm, coating my cock in the warmth of my release.

Throb after endless throb wrenched through me, each fresh surge making my hips spasm and my vision white out, yet still she kept pumping—slow, relentless drags that wrung me dry with each heavy stroke.

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