Skyrim Page 3 - "Either you're naked, or I'm drunk. Maybe both."

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Lady Orc/Lady Orc(s)

[(Anonymous)]

Basically, queer lady orc decides "no, fuck it, I'm going to be chief and have all the wives." Can be any orc women author!anon wants, named character or OC, in any situation dealing with this prompt: Lesbian orc orgy? Sure! Fluff with the chief and her first wife? Yes, please. Wooing a second wife? Go for it. Just please, author!anons, fix me up with some lady orcs being chiefs, having all the wives, and giving no fucks about propriety.

Re: Lady Orc/Lady Orc(s)

[(Anonymous)]

How do you feel about DB!Orc wanting to use her powers to fulfill this, or do you prefer pure Orc?

Eitherway, fuck yeah, Orcs need more love! College starting up in a few days, but would be willing to work on this during free time c:

Re: Lady Orc/Lady Orc(s)

[(Anonymous)]

YESSSSSSSS

Re: Lady Orc/Lady Orc(s)

[(Anonymous)]

This needs to happen!

Breaking Tradition (1/?)

[(Anonymous)]

(So sorry this took so long!)

Shugak ‘The Red-Eyed’ was, by all means, was not the most normal Orc to have ever graced Tamriel. She had left her native Orsinium, believing if they were to worship, an Orc should worship what Malacath had become, not who he once was, and set out for Skyrim.

Then, when realizing her new life in an Orc Stronghold would have been characterized by marrying some chieftain and working to bring honor to her Orc-kin. While she had no problem with the latter, she more or less said “Fuck it,” left, went to Cyrodrill for a few years, and would later attempt to sneak into Skyrim to settle an old debt with the Thieves Guild. She would then go on to discover her identity as the Dragonborn, become Harbinger of the Companions, in an odd turn of events a Nightingale of Nocturnal, become the Daedric Champions of Hircine and Malacath, and would go on to finally defeat the World Eater.

“Agh! F-fuck! Shu! Not now!”

Still though, none of that really seemed to have the same amount of pride she took in teasing Borgakh the Steel Heart as she tried to sleep.
Beats being some chief’s wife, Shugak thought, licking her lips and roughly grasping the other Orc’s right breast from under her and flicking her clit, chuckling at Borgakh’s growls. How she hated being teased when tired…

“Stop it, you- you- you-“

“Me- me- me? You’re going to need to ask me a bit more… nicely if you want to get me to do anything,” Shugak said with a smirk. While never in a relationship, she had her fair bit of fun with the other Orc during their adventures. She knew this wouldn't advance much farther, but hey, she could at least have a little fun before-

“Cut it out or I’ll tear your arm off and beat you with it,” Borgahk said, grabbing Shugak’s throat hard enough to cut off her breathing for a few seconds, before finally letting go.

“T… that’s better….” Shugak said after a gasp of fresh air, smirking to herself as Borgahk returned back to sleep, as Shugak sat at the edge of the bed, thinking about her situation and her boredom. In all, she never really stopped to think what she was going to do once the whole Dragon Crisis was over. Go back to Orsinium? Traveling with the Companions was fun and all, but dammit, even after so much of that it just became work. Killing a bunch of Silver Hands and Ysgramor’s tomb was pretty cool, but it lacked excitement. Was this really going to be the rest of her days? Go on adventure here and there; screw a lady that didn’t mind having sex with an Orc (usually Borgahk), repeat?

She wanted more out of her life. She couldn’t give enough of a shit about either side of the Civil War (despite numerous requests from both sides to aid them)- there was no way she saw the Orcs benefiting from other side in the long run.

…

The Orcs.

Opposed as she was to tribal system, dammit, she envied the Chiefs (except, of course, that fuck Yamarz), having all the wives. Did she want to see that changed? Of course, but hey- even she couldn’t help but admit just for a few days, having a nice little harem… sounded pretty damn nice. It didn’t help most races just didn’t compare- the Nord and occasionally Redguard women she could sometimes be a little rough with, but the Imperials, Bretons, Bosmer? Fuck it, she had to be so damn gentle- and if that wasn’t enough, she was the one that had to finish it herself once all was said and done. She didn’t want to be some princess- she wanted to hit and scream, and wanted them to return that favor.

But she couldn’t do that unless she returned to Orsinium, or something in Skyrim in the Strongholds changed.

And Shugahk would rather die than go back just for a little sexual pleasure. And damn it to the Ashpits she let something like 'tradition' stand in the way of what she wanted, or her stories.

“Borgahk, asleep yet?”

“… I was.”

“Pack up your stuff in the morning,” she said, picking up Volendrung. “We’re heading to Giant’s Cove in the morning.”

“May I ask why?”

Shugak let out a smirk, looking over at her companion with her one good eye, holding up the warhammer, before turning up to the ceiling.

“Gonna go see if we can get a certain Daedric Prince’s approval on something I really wanna do.”

“Which is? Get on with it, Shu.”

“Fuck the chiefs. I’m gonna get all the wives."

F!Orc!Chief/F!Orc!Wives “A Stronger Hold” (1a/?)

[(Anonymous)]

Tags: race:Orsimer, relationship:femslash, es:skyrim, kink:oral, kink:strap_on, kink:virginity, char:F!NPC, kink: dirty_talk, kink:threesome, kink:bondage, kink:marriage

A/N: I have no idea if the OP is still around, but I’ve been working on this fic for a while now in secret, since I wanted it to be pretty much done before I posted. Brought to you as a little femslash for Christmas. I’ll be posting a few parts, but will wait a little bit before posting more to avoid spamming the meme.

Summary: A young orc woman refuses to become wife to some half-wit chief. She decided to become a chief instead, and they’d make a better hold. A stronger hold.

“It will bring much glory for clan for you to marry Chief Yagarz.”

The very idea made Durash scoff, “And how will simply ceding and agreeing to be the wife of some slow-witted chief bring honor to Malacath? He values strength, not weak will and subservience. I would think, good mother, that you would want more for your daughter than that. I see I am wrong.”

The older orc woman was fairly vibrating with fury, “How dare you question the will of Malacath!”

“This is not his will! Malacath blessed me with skill and speed beyond any chief I have ever seen. I have killed giants, trolls, and even brought a dragon to its knees and you think that I should be prize for some male simply upon virtue of my sex!? Any man who had shown half as much strength would have been made chief, not tribute!”

Her mother’s sneer was an ugly baring of teeth, “You bite your tongue, girl, or so help me you will be banished from this tribe!”

The threat hit Durash like a bucket of cold water. Her eyes widened as she looked at her noble mother snarling like a beast, no semblance to woman who had once raised and cared for her. Was she so stuck in tradition that she would forsake her own daughter for virtue of tradition?

She supposed she had her answer. If she was willing to so relegate herself due to the bounds of tradition, there was little hope she’d want differently for her daughter.

Durash had watched how her forgewife mother was treated as the third wife to a lazy chief. Her mother was a handsome woman, but no delicate creature fine of features and dark of attitude as the chief’s first. She had seen how she had always been less, forced to wait behind the pampered first woman, stunted in her accolade and neglected in her pleasure. This was no life for her. This tribe, any tribe, was not with forsaking her gifts and relegating herself to a life wasted in weakness. She was stronger than that, and she would prove it.

“Then I will gather my things. I leave in the morning. And Lagat is coming with me.”

Lagat had long been her companion in the hold, near her own age, the Orsimer girl had been taken in by the hold after she had been dropped off as a babe outside its gates. They had been inseparable since then, if she left, she knew Lagat would follow.

Her mother snarled, tossing the hammer she’d been using far away into the dirt. “If you leave you’ll take nothing from this tribe, and you most certainly won’t lead Lagat off with you on this cursed path!”

Durash had enough of her mother, and of the arrogance of the whole tribe. She was strong, and no one, not even her mother was going to stop her. “Then stop me! I will take my things, and my friend, and anyone who wants to stop me are free to challenge as they will.”

Snarls and swears followed the young orc woman as she pushed open the longhouse door, moving to her bed to throw open her chest and begin to furiously pack her things into a knapsack. Snarling she pulled on her armor, carefully kept beneath her bed, only to startle as a gentle hand brushed against her tense arm.

Durash reared up at first, ready to unleash her wrath at the intruder, when she spotted the gentle eyes of Lagat, her closest companion. “Durash, what happened? Why are you packing your things… did the chief say something to you again?”

“No, no, Lagat, it wasn’t him. Not this time. It was mother. She wants me married to some second rate chief off in the Rift.”

F!Orc!Chief/F!Orc!Wives “A Stronger Hold” (1b/?)

[(Anonymous)]

Lagat’s gentle hands fluttered on Durash’s forge-hardened shoulders. “Oh Durash, oh no… I’m so sorry.”

Durash shook her head, “it doesn’t matter what she wants. I’m leaving, and you’re coming with me. We’re starting our own stronghold, with me as the chief.”

Her friend stumbled back, stunned. “What? Durash we can’t. It’s forbidden, there’s no way the other strongholds would accept us. No woman is chief, it’s unheard of.”

“So you refuse to come with me?”

Lagat snorted and smacked her shoulder, the change was abrupt, but still made Durash smile. “Of course I’m coming with you, I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

Durash laughed, that was the Lagat she knew. “Not really, but we’ll make it up as we go…first wife.”

Lagat went still abruptly. She would have chuckled at the look of shock on the other orc’s face if she wasn’t so anxious of her reaction. Durash had been looking with increasing interest at her old friend for a while now. But she’d never acted on it before. Lagat was beautiful, bright, and all those things that made for quite a prize of a woman. She knew many of the tribe’s men had their eye on Lagat, the law of Malacath had kept them back, but she had seen their interest. Durash was not really so delicate and fine a beauty, and she had little indication to hint at Lagat’s temperament. But Durash wanted her, Malacath did she want her.

The silence was deafening, and Durash was starting to shore up her defenses as she readied for the increasing possibility of rejection.

“You’re not just teasing me… you mean that?” Lagat questioned urgently, her pale eyes searching.

“Of course, I’d never joke about something like this,” Durash whispered, trying not to reveal the tension that made her muscles tight. She wanted her, but it was alright if Lagat didn’t feel the same… they could still go on. They could be friends and she could still start the tribe.

“Then of course Durash. For the love of Malacath, you’ve been my best friend for practically forever. I can’t turn you down now. And… I like you. Of course you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.”

It embarrassed her, but Durash was infinitely relieved to hear those words. Her impatient hands finally put down the pack and Durash turned to wrap her arms around that more slender form. She was stiff for a moment, but then Lagat embraced her back and Durash melted against her. She savored the feel of those curves pressing into hers, the slighter Orsimer’s warmth, her regard. It was enough to made one giddy, but there was still business to be done.

Reluctantly she released her, going back to packing her bags. Distantly she heard Lagat gathering her own possessions, and just the sound of it made her smile.

They’d just finished pooling their things when she heard heavy boots on the wood plank floor. She didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. The chief. Her father. Durash braced herself with the bag slung over her shoulder, gaze turning to the looming form of her chief snarling with deliberate impassivity. Her father’s disapproval was nothing new, and Durash had no intention of backing down now.

“You are not taking Lagat with you!”

She had to laugh, of course he didn’t care about her leaving, it was Lagat he didn’t want to go. Honestly, she shouldn’t have been surprised, she’d noticed the way her father had started looking at her dear friend ever since she’d started to visibly mature. The man didn’t care that Lagat was almost the same age as his own daughter; he only cared for his own interests. “I am, Father, and we are leaving.”

The Chief grabbed her arm, his gauntleted fingers digging in and tusks flashing as he growled, but Durash was not going to be manhandled. She shifted and drove her knee right into his gut, doubling him over before dragging him up again by that flashy tail of hair, her dagger at his throat. “You’re not going to try and stop us. If you do, it will be a challenge, and then we’ll see once and for all if you’re really worthy to be chief.”

When the man was done panting like a scout on their first run, he was growling. She let him sit up a bit, but that didn’t mean the blade came away from his throat. There was darkness reflected in her eyes, and she knew there was no coming back here after this. Good.

F!Orc!Chief/F!Orc!Wives “A Stronger Hold” (1c/?)

[(Anonymous)]

“Everything alright here?” Lagat’s voice purred from behind her. The sound distracted her, and Durash leaned back. She hadn’t even realized her knife was pressing so hard into her father’s throat until she saw the line of red that was sluggishly welling blood.

“It’s fine, we’re going Lagat,” Durash snapped, her challenging gaze never leaving her seething father. She didn’t trust him with her back, not for a moment. She took Lagat’s bag as well, and the both left under the hard gazes of the entire stronghold. The other orcs grumbled, swore, and cursed them as blasphemous when they left, but none were brave enough to try and stop them. That said enough to her about their assembled cowardice. They would make a better hold, a stronger hold.

F!Orc!Chief/F!Orc!Wives “A Stronger Hold” (2a/?)

[(Anonymous)]

They must have ridden for hours. She had to stop to kill a few bears of course, but that was typical of any journey. She’d heard about a mine that wasn’t too far away, highly coveted but overrun by foresworn. On any other day she’d have thought it to be too much of a risk to take for no reason, but good ore made a strong hold. They would need more to mine it, and to build, but the errands the chief had sent her on before had left her with a good amount of loot she could sell off to some of the outlanders. It’d at least be enough for timber and to pay help to build.

Clearing the foresworn had been messy work. The first she’d had to pick off with arrows, but two fully armored orcs were more than a match for the four that were left. The briarheart was the only one that was truly a challenge, and he’d gotten his hits in, but he had little time to cherish such a victory before her greatsword cut the man in half.

*****

Months later Durash Gar was looking out at her new stronghold. Some of the city orcs that had helped to build had chosen to stay and were helping in the mines. There had been a few foresworn attacks since the inception of the hold, but they were poorly organized and easily driven off. To be honest the first months were nothing more than a bustle. She’d really only seen Lagat briefly as the two of them passed each other in their duties. But now that they were mostly established, she wasn’t sure how to approach her old friend and new first wife.

Lagat was outside barking orders at some miners who had been slacking off, and the mere sight of it made Durash smile. She didn’t see how what had once been so easy now seemed so complicated. She loved Lagat, wanted her, it should have been simple to say something, to embrace her. Instead she found the words dried up on her tongue and her hands were left fitfully skittish as her eyes rolled wistfully over those curves.

A loud knock on the door to the stronghold distracted her from her reminisce. Durash stood, grabbing her greatsword as she stepped toward the gateway. Foresworn had never knocked before, but there was a first time for everything. “Announce yourself!”

“It’s kin, my chief,” a guard yelled.

“Alright.”

A guard unlocked the door, and even the chief startled when it was promptly kicked open. Durash’s grip on the sword tightened before she raised her brows at the sight of a lone female Orsimer staring boldly back at her.

“You got a forgewife?”

Durash sheathed her greatsword, her gaze roaming over the newcomer. “No…” the young chief started, unsure of exactly where this strange new woman was going with her query. As her mother had been the forgewife of her old chief, she had taught Durash some things, but her skill with metals would never compare to that of her dam. For now they were getting by on her smithing and that of a few others who were at least acquainted with the forge.

“Good. I’m Kharzu. So you’re really the chief, huh?”

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

“Nope. Heard about what you’ve got going here, and I’ve come to be your woman. My home hold, Daguk Yar, is just over the mountains. Brought a dowry too,” the sturdy, dark-skinned Orsimer raised the massive bag that somehow Durash hadn’t even noticed until now was settled on her shoulder. “Strong ore. We’ve got an ebony mine, and my Chief offers his best if you’ll have me. I suppose he’s just happy I’ve got an interest in any chief. So, what’d ya think?”

F!Orc!Chief/F!Orc!Wives “A Stronger Hold” (2b/?)

[(Anonymous)]

The young chief was speechless, just staring between the bag and the tall, hard-built woman in front of her. Talk about direct. As chief she had been expecting to find other wives as well, as much as she loved Lagat, it was what bonded the hold together. But so soon? Still it was no offer to turn down lightly. The woman was obviously affiliated with another hold, and thus far the best they’d gotten from the surrounding chiefs had been an uneasy tolerance…but an alliance? That could mean much for their group.

Considering it brought Dursh’s thoughts more firmly to considering the woman before her. She was no slight thing like Lagat. No, this female orc was one of the largest she’d seen. Her shoulders were broad and her arms hardened from long hours at the forge, and even through the weathered travel clothes she could see that the rest of her was just as trim and toned. The only thing that really made her stand out as a woman was a proud, ample bosom which admittedly quite drew Durash’s eye.

And it seemed the new Orsimer sensed it, because a husky laugh brought the chief’s eyes up and had her cheeks flushing in awkwardness. Durash may have been mortified, but at least the newcomer didn’t take offense. Laughing like that, she was actually quite striking. Kharzu was not a pretty thing, handsome actually suited her better. The forge woman’s features were vaguely androgynous, even on the side of masculine. Full lips added a touch of sensuality, and her short hair cut emphasized the pleasing, if hard, planes of her face. Honestly, she was very attractive, in that bold, aggressive way of hers.

In fact, Durash was actually shifting embarrassedly under the scorching gaze that the new female was giving her at the moment. The chief couldn’t help but feel sort of ridiculous that the perusal made her feel such a sudden surge of excitement. She was keeping a hold now, being eyed up by a stranger should not get her going the way it was. But considering how things had not progressed with Lagat, it wasn’t surprising that she responded to such overt female interest.

And Kharzu was making no excuses. Malacath help her, Durash couldn’t help but wish it was that easy for her.

Still, Durash was not about to be cowed under a little attention, and the chief stood tall and proud like the warrior that she was. This didn’t seem though to dissuade the other’s gaze, and in fact it only seemed even more intrigued as it examined her assets. Malacath, the woman was incorrigible.

“Oh, we have a visitor?”

Lagat’s voice cut through Durash’s thoughts of the visitor, and her gaze darted a little guiltily to her first wife looking with obvious interest in their new arrival. While Durash was still trying to think of something to say the newcomer took the liberty of answering.

“Kharzu. I have come to propose as forgewife to your chief. Are you the first?” Durash did not like the knowing gaze of the visitor as she looked between Lagat and herself.

“Yes, I am.” She didn’t think she’d ever seen Lagat blush so deep as she did then. Kharzu was looking at her similar to how she had Durash; weighing, appreciative, and it had her first wife flushing and grinning a little before she looked the other woman over in return. “So, you’re proposing to my chief?”

“Indeed. I’ve trained under my mother’s forge and we make strong weapons, much coveted even in the surrounding holds. And I bring ebony ore as dowry. I hope that these offerings are… acceptable.”

Durash couldn’t help the way her gaze nervously went to her first wife. She’d always planned to get more wives, but she’d never spoken to Lagat about it. Of course she’d thought that such things were a long time coming, especially with a stronghold newly established and of their…controversial nature. But to have someone actually approach them, and not only that, but come with offerings and alliance. She didn’t know if she was relieved or worried when Lagat was smiling brightly in pleasure. Durash may have been conflicted, but she had to do what was best for the hold.

“I accept your proposal.”

“Alright then, I’ll just get set up in the longhouse then, my chief.”

F!Orc!Chief/F!Orc!Wives “A Stronger Hold” (3a/?)

[(Anonymous)]

She watched the new woman swagger past, the heaping bag of what must have been heavy ore held aloft like it was a sack of feathers. Durash wasn’t sure what to admire, the strength of those shoulders or the firm sway of the ass hugged tightly by her leathers. Though when the chief realized just what she was doing her cheeks flamed brilliantly and she turned her gaze tentatively to Lagat. Durash wasn’t surprised to find Lagat watching Kharzu. But as well as she knew her friend, she couldn’t identify the look in those pale eyes.

Unsure of what to think, she cleared her throat, and Lagat turned back to her. If she didn’t know better she’d say the woman was actually blushing a bit. But the Lagat she knew rarely blushed, even when she was swearing like a sailor as she smacked a lazy worker she’d caught daydreaming. “What─what do you think?”

A thin brow raised, “what do you mean ‘what do I think’? Do you mean do I think she’s genuine? That she’d be good for the hold? If that’s what you’re asking then yes. I think she’s honest, frightfully so in fact. And she looks like a fine smith, if the blade on her hip was anything to go by. I think she’ll be a ideal forgewife, particularly since she’s fine with our…situation. And not only that, she brings connections we well need.”

“That’s all good. But I meant what do you think about my taking another wife? I mean considering…” Durash forced herself to look Lagat in the eye, even as she wanted to avoid the conversation desperately. They had never resolved this thing between them, she’d thought she had more time, but now she feared Lagat would just be farther from her.

“I’m not angry at you, Durash, honestly. This new wife, I have a good feeling about her. I think it is the will of Malacath that she came to us now. You need this, we need this, and the hold needs this. Don’t worry about me. Why don’t you check on the new woman, I’m going to send a runner to confirm it with her sire’s hold.”

“Thank you Lagat. No chief could ever hope for a better first wife.”

“You better believe it. Now go, make sure the new woman isn’t trashing the place or rearranging my things.”

She heard Lagat chuckle as she smacked her on the ass, making Durash start and blush darkly before she shot her first wife a look and started off a bit more quickly. Malacath, could Lagat possibly know what that sort of teasing did to her? Swallowing hard the chief eased open the door to the longhouse.

Not built terribly long ago, the wood was fresh and still smelled pleasantly like tall trees and sap. The craftsmanship wasn’t too bad either. They’d hired some wandering artisans to help with the place, and they were responsible for the fine carving decorating the heavy supporting beams and dark wood ribs. Both Durash and Lagat were proud of it, but she couldn’t help but feel anxious at what Kharzu might think of it. She didn’t know what the other woman’s home hold was like. Kharzu had said they had an ebony mine, that was good ore, and though they had a fine mine, they’d just gotten started.

“It’s nice.”

Sudden sound of Kharzu’s deep voice did nothing for her nerves, and Durash cursed inwardly at how ridiculously skittish she was being. She hadn’t given a single fuck about telling off her father or telling all tradition to piss off, but get her near a good looking woman and she fidgeted like a nervous mare. “Oh, um… thanks. Are you settling in? I think there’s a free dresser…”

“I found it,” Kharzu’s dark eyes were sparkling, full lips quirked impishly at the edges, “Chief Durash.”

The handsome orcismer woman licked her lips and Durash swallowed hard as she felt a shameful frisson of heat warm her loins and her cheeks. “Would you like me to show you to the forge then?”

“Already want to get me to work, hm? Alright, I don’t need too much warm up anyway.”

Durash didn’t think her cheeks could get any hotter. She soon discovered that she was very much wrong. “I didn’t mean, of course if you don’t want to…”

F!Orc!Chief/F!Orc!Wives “A Stronger Hold” (3b/?)

[(Anonymous)]

Kharzu tossed her cloak on the bed and took up the bag of ore again. “I know what you meant. Lead on, my Chief. After all, what’s a forgewife without her forge?” Again Durash found herself admiring how easily the stallion of a woman tossed around that bag. She was no lightweight, but Durash found swinging a sword suited her better than a hammer.

They walked across the hold and up the stairs that lead to the mine and the forge outside it. Durash had been raised on the forge, even if it wasn’t her calling, and it was well outfitted. She’d traded and worked with rest of the hold to build up a very respectable forge. Their smelter was one of the new and one of the best available. Fire salts made the forge’s flame burn particularly hot, a trick she’d learned from a blacksmith she’d helped in Riften during one of the trips her father sent her on.

Still, she waited anxiously as this new woman, this new wife that she’s just met, circled around the blacksmith’s camp. But when she saw the woman smile, looking up from where she leaned over the forge, Durash felt her heart go light. “You know the forge?” Kharzu’s throaty voice inquired, sounding deeply satisfied with something.

“My mother was the forgewife of our clan. I learned the trade, though I don’t have near the skill she did. Still, I’ve been holding us over for now.”

“You’ve done well, I don’t think there’s so well appointed a forge in all of Skyrim. I’d be honored to work it.” Kharzu stroked her hands over the smooth stones surrounding the fire pit, and nodded, seeming to have come to some unknown conclusion. Durash was just pleased that Kharzu seemed to like it. “I’m going to get started, why don’t you go check on the beautiful Lagat? I am fine here.”

The chief tried not to look too embarrassed at the amused weight of Kharzu’s gaze, so she simply nodded and left her new wife to her forge. There were other things to be managed, and she saw Lagat busy herself, directing other kin as they worked on building a larger stable.

Organizing things with their alchemist was a welcome distraction. She knew that there was a lot to think about, to discuss, but for now she could focus on immediate business. Even with a forgewife there was still a lot to be done to fortify the hold, and it was her responsibility to make sure it was done.

F!Orc!Chief/F!Orc!Wives “A Stronger Hold” (4a/9a)

[(Anonymous)]

The next morning the messenger arrived with word from Daguk Yar. Her father was apparently pleased, and with him the messenger brought a respectable chest of gems and a fine stallion from strong war-bred stock, its coat as rich and black as the ore it was named after.

Kharzu seemed infinitely glad to see the horse. “Ebony! Now I never thought that old boar would ever let you go with me. I’m glad he did, handsome lad like you will take good care of our ladies now won’t you?” The horse whinnied agreeably, and her forgewife laughed, patting his smooth mane before leading him off to the temporary stables herself.

It had been a relief last night that they hadn’t had to worry about sleeping arrangements. Kharzu had been busy in the forge and insisted on working late into the night, even camping out there. She’d tried to tell the smith that she was welcome, and the woman had grinned quite wide and shooed her off, though she’d promised she’d take her up on the offer soon enough. As much as it shamed her, she’d been glad to have that awkwardness put off for the moment.

“She’s a good woman. I saw a bit of her work earlier today, it was impressive,” Lagat noted in pleased tones as they both watched Kharzu lead the stud off.

“Rub it in why don’t you? I never claimed to be a master smith,” Durash grumbled in a playfully disgruntled tone.

“Well its good you can kill bandits and beasts, then isn’t it? But it is good to have a forgewife official. It’s getting to look like a real hold now, chief.”

Lagat’s warm regard had Durash feeling giddy and unbelievably flustered. All she could manage under such scrutiny was a shy sort of smile before she took off to sharpen some of her old blades. The task always helped to keep her distracted, and she found that she’d needed a lot of… distracting of late.

*****

It was quiet like that for a week. Durash had hardly seen Kharzu, but then she’d also not made a real effort to go and see her new wife, and if she was honest with herself she had been avoiding her a bit as well. Something about Kharzu’s dark gaze, how it burned over her or the husky rumble of her voice just made Durash embarrassingly uncomfortable. Her forgewife had come to sleep in the longhouse, but with separate beds it wasn’t really anything different than it had been before. She wasn’t sure how she should regard that.

Once again Durash found herself running her fingers over the honed edge of her greatsword. The blade was good for what it was, but she would have to get around to replacing it soon. Honestly she may have been sharpening it a little too much lately, but it was really the only thing she could do to get her mind off things.

“My Chief.”

In the doorway stood Kharzu, her imposing form taking up a good portion of the frame as she stepped forward, a well wrapped bundle filling up her large hands. Durash stood up from the bed she’d been sitting on, feeling color heat her cheeks for no apparent reason. Like always her words seemed hard in coming as she looked at the handsome woman. “Kharzu.”

“I thought it was about time I brought you your wedding present,” the tall woman’s teeth flashed sharply as she pressed the bundle into Durash’s hands. “Well, one of them. The other you’ll get when we’re a bit better acquainted.”

Durash didn’t know quite what to think about her forgewife’s phrasing, but either way took the present as it was given to her. It was long and heavy, and it didn’t take the chief long to figure out what it was after she cleared some of the rags wrapping around it. Still, seeing it in its entirety took her breath away.

It was a greatsword. The blade was solid ebony and a gorgeous motif of a beautiful, fearsome woman decorated the crossguard. Orichalcum inlay colored her skin, making it clear this was an Orsimer blade. The design carried on in embellishments both sharp and exquisite, curving down to accent a blade that was wickedly sharp.

For once it was more than the manner of her forgewife that left Durash speechless. What could she say in the presence of such a masterpiece? There seemed no simple words that would express the honor she felt in being gifted such a weapon.

F!Orc!Chief/F!Orc!Wives “A Stronger Hold” (4b/9a)

[(Anonymous)]

“I…thank you, Kharzu.”

“You’re welcome. But it hardly compares.”

Durash started, “to what? I have never seen anything of its like─”

She knew Kharzu was laughing at her horror, but it just seemed absurd. “Not the blade, my lovely chief. To you.”

Malacath, if she’d thought she was utterly, completely flustered before, it was nothing compared to this. Kharzu smiled and she would swear she’d never seen a grin so full of teeth. The forgewife stepped closer and it wasn’t until her back hit the longhouse wall that she realized she’d been retreating back. The impact startled her, but it only seemed to reflect in more feral amusement in her second wife’s handsome face.

“You know, my chief …My beautiful Durash... I noticed that you have been avoiding me.”

“N-no, I would never─”

“It wasn’t a question,” Kharzu whispered, a strong reaching up to touch the wall by Durash’s shoulders, the other woman using her larger body to pin her in. The chief’s heart was beating like a caged thing, and she couldn’t help the awful need to squirm as her forgewife’s intense gaze focused on her.

Durash was a warrior. Any bandit or intruder she would have cut down easily if they tried to pin her so, but the chief found herself helpless against her wife. “I know why,” Kharzu continued, “so I’m inclined to forgive you. But I’ve come to see that you’re not going to bridge that gap on your own. That’s alright though, I don’t mind teaching you a thing or two.”

Durash was still trying to get together something to say when she felt full lips press to her own as an assertive leg pressed up between her thighs. All breath escaped the smaller orcismer as Kharzu drank it down for herself. A hot mouth was claiming hers, but she was grateful for it as a strong thigh rubbed insistently against her mound and she had to hide a cry between their lips.

She didn’t even know when she’d gotten so hot and so sensitive, but she was clawing at the forgewoman’s hard shoulders, crying out even as she was embarrassed at the pleasure. At first she really tried shying away, turning her head a bit, raising to her toes to keep her throbbing sex from making contact with that leg. She was being overwhelmed, drowning in her first real taste of female flesh and admittedly going into the unknown like this scared her.

Kharzu held no such uncertainty. Growling deep, the smith grabbed those fickle hips and dragged them down and back against the firmness of her leg, moving what she could feel was a wet, tender sex up and down a muscled length of thigh. High, pleading noises met her ministrations, and she taught Durash how to grind on her, how to take her pleasure. It was embarrassing, but the chief was taking to it. Short breathed and aching, the younger orc was actually bold enough to slide her hand under her forgewife’s tunic as she rubbed her aching apex into that pleasing friction.

“You ready to take these clothes off?” The forgewife whispered just as her hand went down to cup the hurting heat between her legs.

Durash only nodded, not quite able to make the words form.

But it seemed Kharzu had endured enough of her uncertainty, as she didn’t make any moves to take the breeches off. The dark-skinned orc just brushed her lips against the chief’s, rubbing a frighteningly accurate thumb right over where her clit hid behind the leathers. A cry sobbed out of the virgin chief’s mouth, her nails digging hard into the flesh she had found under her tunic. Kharzu just kept stroking, back and forth over that sweet little spot until Durash thought she would hit her peak, only to move those awful fingers just far enough away to keep her tormented and ready.

“Tell me you want to be naked with me, tell me you want to fuck. I want to hear your pretty voice say it, my sweet chief.”

If she was in a more coherent state of mind, Durash was sure she would have been mortified at the lick of excitement her second wife’s dirty words caused within her. As it was, the trembling young chief had to force herself to speak before Kharzu returned to tormenting her tender sex again. “Malacath, yes get me naked… please. I want t-to fuck.”

F!Orc!Chief/F!Orc!Wives “A Stronger Hold” (5a/9a)

[(Anonymous)]

A/N: Some fireworks for your New Years Eve.

That seemed all that it took, as Durash found herself abruptly clinging to Kharzu for other reasons as the larger woman carried her over to the bed. It wasn’t large, but it was plenty big enough when Kharzu was on top of her, Hands drifting to the closures on her tunic. Durash tried to help, only to have Kharzu quite firmly knock her hands away from where she was at work.

“None of that. You have been a terrible tease Durash. So lie back, because I like to take my time opening my presents.”

Durash wanted to say something. About being a warrior, or about being chief. But all she could manage with Kharzu’s experienced hands on her was a muffled bout of whimpers. The chief moaned as Kharzu lingered over every inch of her.

As she worked on the ties at Durash’s throat they kissed, the forgewoman’s mouth dominating her own briefly before she moved that mouth to peruse her jaw. When those lips brushed over the sensitive tips of her ear she thought she’d reached Oblivion. Careful tusks nipped at their fine points before they were sucked into a vigorous mouth and the chief thought the points had to be directly connected with her clit.

Kharzu wasn’t done yet though, as her mouth migrated down to Durash’s throat, licking and sucking the sensitive territory. All the time her hands were not idle. She’d removed Durash’s tunic and her own somehow and now they were pressed even more tightly together. The chief found her hands guided to a set of ample breasts, and she eagerly caressed over the offering even as strong hands perused her own.

An expert flick over the erected nubs on her chest made her arch, and she tried to duplicate it with Kharzu’s dark nipples. At the very least she felt a breath hitch against her throat, and it encouraged her to try again, rolling the stiff points between her fingers until she felt the other woman brush a hot sex against her thigh.

The chief smiled, bringing her leg up to give her wife something to rub against, satisfied at how Kharzu had gone just a bit breathless against her throat. But the forgewoman wouldn’t be distracted for long, as soon she lifted up and away a bit, and Durash’s eyes went wide as she felt Kharzu’s hands go to the hem of her breeches.

Her forgewife’s grin was as dark and feral as she had ever seen it, and Durash already knew she would both love and hate what was going to happen next. Even though her thighs were shaking the chief let her wife begin to peel down the tight fitting leather. Now all she had to hide her was a scrap of underclothing, and it did very little to make her feel less naked when Kharzu put strong hands on her knees and brought her thighs apart so she could see her. It was almost worse than being nude when she looked down and saw the material soaked and near transparent with her moisture. Her wife could see the dark curls saturated with cream, and hot blush of folds flushed with arousal.

Though it seemed to please Kharzu, as one of those too knowing hands rubbed against her trembling inner thigh, her thumb brushing against hem of the soaked cotton fabric. That finger traced over the soft outline of her outer labia, moving over all of her delicate places and leaving Durash quivering beneath her.

Without warning Kharzu’s finger pressed between those saturated folds and under the hood, rolling the little treasure it found there. The thin veil of fabric was not enough to keep the chief from howling as her wife rubbed her good and hard in a firm circle, a hot mouth embracing the tender point of one nipple as finally the young chief came under her.

The smith didn’t let go, but stroked more gently as Durash’s body bucked with orgasm. Kharzu was dragging it out, toying with her carefully as she became intolerably sensitive for a few moments. Durash tried to whine, to get away, but Kharzu was having none of it, bringing her chief back to arousal after she’d finished before finally pulling away.

F!Orc!Chief/F!Orc!Wives “A Stronger Hold” (5b/9a)

[(Anonymous)]

Honestly, the chief was put out with all of her forgewife’s terrible teasing, but she forgot all about her growing outrage when Kharzu began to strip once more. Before she had leaned back Durash had never really gotten the chance to appreciate her wife’s glorious breasts. But seeing them now, high and ample before her she had to appreciate how they complimented the confident muscle and fine curves on her forgewife. She couldn’t help reaching out to run her hands over some of the fine dark flesh that was revealed, and she was pleased to see that Kharzu didn’t stop her.

The concession gave her confidence, and soon Durash was cupping those lovely breasts, plucking the nipples again and smiling at how it made Kharzu’s hips roll. When her forgewife leaned forward so she could take her own breeches off Durash took the opportunity to capture one of her wife’s stiff nipples into her mouth where she sucked its point eagerly. Kharzu’s low moan in response filled her with pride, and soon Durash was dipping her hands down lower on her wife, taking two handfuls of toned ass as Kharzu finally wrangled the leather down her legs.

It didn’t seem that her forgewife ever wore anything below her leathers, because there was nothing blocking her view of soft nether curls and slick sex between Kharzu’s strong thighs. A mere half hour ago she may have been speechless for embarrassment at such a sight, but now Durash just heard herself purr, “Not the only one excited.”

Kharzu gave a rough groan, “of course not, you know how it’s tortured me having my pretty virgin chief always shy away from me? Damn slut, I just wanted to pin you and have you hard.” The forgewife’s voice only got darker and dirtier as Durash dared to reach down and brush her fingers through Kharzu’s slick folds. Though the older woman moaned and for a moment seemed to cede to the pleasure as her chief ever more confidently started to explore, but when Durash found that stiff pearl that had driven her so crazy, Kharzu slipped away. The withdrawal made the chief frown, the warrior ready to drag the older woman’s hips back up before Kharzu smacked her hands away again.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Kharzu growled as she moved down her chief’s shapely form and removed the last barrier between them. Durash gasped a little at the first brush of cool air against those private places. With her forgewife positioned firmly between her legs there was nothing she could do about being spread out before the other woman’s gaze. Though Kharzu certainly seemed to relish the sight of her glistening pussy, the muscular woman rumbling in appreciation before her lips brushed over the curve of one thigh.

Malacath, she wasn’t… oh, but she was. Durash let out a long, wrenching moan as Kharzu dragged her tongue across the dripping lips before her. She didn’t get any time to catch her breath before Kharzu began devouring her in earnest. The aggressive woman licked, sucked, and lavished her like she was hungry for it. And there was nothing Durash could do against the onslaught, all that seemed left to her was moaning and writhing as Kharzu’s decadent tongue took her close to her peak only to move away as she grew too close.

Again and again her forgewife played with her, massaging her stiff little clit, making it throb under her deliberate sucking before going away to tease at her flushed lips. All the while fingers rubbed at the fickle gateway of her soft cunt.

Teasing kisses brushed against her thigh again, only amplifying the torture when Kharzu wouldn’t stop rubbing at her tender clit. “Do you want your other gift now, my chief?”

Durash’s mind was hazy, tears welling in eyes in desperate arousal. Regardless she nodded, not sure what it possibly could be, but hoping to Malacath that it was her orgasm. “Fuck, yes, just please…”

“Alright,” Kharzu chuckled, finally letting Durash’s shaking thighs down from her shoulders. Though she didn’t leave her spot between her chief’s spread legs, she reached into a knapsack Durash hadn’t previously noticed and held aloft what it was that had been inside.

F!Orc!Chief/F!Orc!Wives “A Stronger Hold” (5c/9a)

[(Anonymous)]

Her gift did not take terribly much explanation, not when she was spread and wet under her wife, aching on the brink of orgasm. Presented before her was a cock; carved out of ebony with lovely ridges spiraling down the shaft, just as gorgeous and exquisitely carved as the sword she had been presented earlier. Attached to it was a mess of well tooled leather straps and onyx rings which didn’t immediately make sense until she noticed how they worked together and even more excited cream moistened her folds. It was a harness… so she could… Malacath. Durash fairly trembled as what she was beginning to recognize as Kharzu’s sadistic smile played over her lips.

All Durash could do was watch, quivering as Kharzo rubbed the thick tip of the toy between her slick folds, making sure the carefully crafted head’s gentle ridges fluttered across her clit. “I made this toy for you,” her forgewife whispered, rolling the ribbed toy over and over again through the tender flesh between her legs. “Made it while I aching waiting for my pretty chief to finally take me to her bed. I thought about this wet cunt all the time then, what I’d do if I got my hands on it, my mouth. How you’d sob and squirm, how I’d fuck you and you’d like it,” she accented that by rubbing the toy right across her sore button again.

“Hmmm… I don’t know... should we do this the first time though? I could always just use my mouth. What do you think, my chief? Do you want my pretty cock in you?”

After Kharzu had been teasing her with it, rubbing it between her swollen labia, brushing it against her aching opening, she couldn’t help but start feeling empty. She wanted her forgewife inside her. The thought of those ridges rubbing against her walls, and knowing already how well Kharzu could play with her, she couldn’t do anything but agree. “Yes, please, fuck me, Kharzu.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. Durash watched in embarrassed anticipation as Kharzu watched her while she put the harness on. It should have been boring, like watching someone slip on armor, but instead she could hardly keep her hand from drifting downwards to touch herself as the blacksmith readied herself. Kharzu adjusted the black leather straps, but Durash couldn’t take her eyes from the thick toy bobbing between her legs. It wasn’t until Kharzu had her hips raised and was grinding the length against her wet sex while she thrashed that she realized that it wasn’t natural for onyx to be so warm, silky, or throb like it did against her pussy.

Almost seeming to pick up the thread her thoughts had taken, Kharzu chuckled. “I also may know a thing or two about enchanting,” the blacksmith rumbled before a groan shivered from her throat. She had already gathered that Kharzu liked to tease her, but Durash was aching, and she wanted them both to finally get off.

Indulging herself with the soft breasts swaying before her face, Durash claimed one of the nipples once more for herself. She sucked hard, and Kharzu’s hips gave an abrupt jerk, the forgewife finally faltering in her relentless rubbing. At last the older woman started to feel a similar desperation, and Durash felt the hands on her hips tightening.

“Naughty little chief… fine, if you want me, you’ll have me. But remember that you wanted it this way.”

F!Orc!Chief/F!Orc!Wives “A Stronger Hold” (5d/9a)

[(Anonymous)]

Durash wasn’t sure what that was even supposed to mean, but she didn’t have much time for thinking as the teasing toy rolled over her clit just one more time before Kharzu positioned the blunt tip at her entrance. Her forgewife knew what she was doing, and eased herself into those virgin depths nice and slow.

Still the chief whined at the stretch, the feeling of being opened making her panic at first. A moment of resistance as it pushed in scared her even worse. Though she’d been expecting the sting as Kharzu pierced her, that didn’t keep her cunt from throbbing in an offended manner. She couldn’t lie, it hurt for a few moments, but Durash was not chief because she was prone to backing down.

Soon enough Kharzu slid in smooth, and Durash allowed herself to yeild. It was a strange feeling, to be so full and open, but good. Even more so when Kharzu moved a little and she actually felt the supple ribs stroking her walls. Before she knew it the chief was moaning, pressing herself against the intrusion.

This had to be what Kharzu was waiting for, because the moment that she pressed back against her wife’s thick toy the forgewife hoisted her higher and began to fuck her in slow, deep thrusts that made her feel every detail of the toy inside her. Durash found herself desperately moaning, writhing underneath the tender ravishment, trying to squirm away as Kharzu’s long, calloused fingers found her sweet spot again. But there was no escaping, not as Kharzu fucked her tight cunt, strumming her stiff clit until she came undone beneath her.

As she came Kharzu let out a tortured moan, almost like she could feel the chief’s silky walls milking the thick toy inside of her. In sounder mind Durash may have wondered if there were more enchantments on that toy than she had thought. But she wasn’t given a chance, as Kharzu didn’t let up. No, when Durash came, depths still fluttering around her cock, she just fucked the sobbing chief harder, all throughout her loud orgasm. The younger orc was flushed, overstimulated, but Kharzu wanted to feel her again. Durash could hardly believe when she found herself being forced through another climax, this one leaving her shivering and too weak to do anything but whine quietly into the pillow as Kharzu turned the chief onto her stomach, her pretty ass high in the air before she mounted her sore, sensitive cunt again from behind.

This time was slower. Kharzu was groaning continuously now, as she’d sink all the way into her chief’s trembling sex just before pulling back so far that she’d almost come out. Just the tip teased Durash’s tender gateway, and she’d stroke her lover’s bottom briefly, teased over her hips before pressing that length back in and rubbing her chief’s pretty little hood again. Durash didn’t know how long it went on, only that some indeterminate amount of orgasms later Kharzu’s hips jerked particularly hard against her and the other woman came, groaning against the sweat-slick small of her back.

Durash was tired, and sensitive, and Kharzu was considerate as she slipped the toy out a final time. She thought she heard the other woman put it away, but she didn’t know with how simply exhausted she was by then. The forgewife chuckled a bit tiredly as she pulled Durash’s drained, but certainly plaint body against her and they both tried to get comfortable on the small bed.

“We’re going to get a bigger bed,” Kharzu groaned against her hair. “And tomorrow, my no longer virgin chief, you’re paying that beautiful first wife of yours the respect she deserves by giving her what you’re both aching for. You’ve been an awful tease marrying her and leaving her to a lonely bed.”

The scolding actually made the chief feel a little abashed, even barely conscious as she was. She really hadn’t meant to neglect Lagat, but it had been hard to shake the feeling of being foolish and unwieldy around her. She knew that Lagat had been with a few lovers back in her father’s stronghold, all of whom she’d wanted to kill with her bare hands. And being less experienced she wasn’t sure how to approach her beautiful friend. But after Kharzu she at least knew what to do, what they could do.

She would to do something about it tomorrow, like Kharzu said. For now though she just wanted to sleep.

*****

F!Orc!Chief/F!Orc!Wives “A Stronger Hold” (6a/9a)

[(Anonymous)]

What woke the chieftain later that evening was the soft kiss against her lips and a sore throbbing between her legs. Durash shifted restlessly in bed, a frown marking her features as the normally soft expanse felt almost too warm and uncomfortably cramped. Though it wasn’t until she heard the rumbling chuckle of the body underneath her that she truly understood that she wasn’t alone in bed. Durash raised her head from its soft pillow, and her face became rapidly redder when she realized that the pillow was under Kharzu’s head. Hers had been snuggled against her forgewife’s ample bosom.

Durash was still stumbling for some something to say as Kharzu slipped from the bed stark naked. Now every word dried upon her tongue. Her second wife’s muscular body rippled and curved in all right places as she stretched, pendulous breasts driving Durash to a state of total distraction.

“I would love to oblige that longing look, my Chief. I really would, but we’ll miss dinner if we try and play again.”

“I wasn’t…I…” Durash blushed, finally just shutting up as she got a little shakily to her feet. Kharzu was dressing right behind her, and her forgewife was kind enough to help keep her steady as she nervously fished through her dresser to find fresh clothes.

When both of the orc women were fully dressed Durash started heading out to leave, but Kharzu’s firm hand stopped her retreat. The older woman was taking no excuses as she turned Durash back to her, making the furtive young chief meet her focused gaze. “There is nothing to be ashamed of here, my chief. I am your wife, and we had sex, just like you’re going to have sex with that lovely little first wife that has been aching for your touch. It felt good, just like it should, and we’ll be doing it again very soon.”

Her forgewife words didn’t leave any room for discussion, and as bright as she knew her cheeks were going, she couldn’t deny that everything the woman said was true. She shouldn’t be embarrassed of enjoying her first time with her handsome forgewife. Durash was chief, it was her right to be with her beautiful wives, her duty to make sure that they are pleasured as they deserve.

These women were helping keep her and their hold together. Kharzu had forged most of the new fixtures around the hold, reoutfitted many of the guards and set the foundations for many of the buildings that were transferring from temporary to permanent. And Lagat… who she’d loved practically forever. Her first wife had stood by her when she’d first started the hold, she’d been the voice of diplomacy even when she knew Lagat wanted nothing more than to smack the arrogant chiefs they were negotiating with. For them she had to get past this. And if Kharzu was correct about Lagat desiring her, well then she had a lot to make up for.

Walking out to knowing glances and approving nods Durash quickly discovered that though the longhouse walls were thick, they weren’t enough to drown out completely the sound of the chief and her second wife enjoying themselves. It took everything in her to force herself not to be embarrassed that the entire hold had heard her consummate her marriage. Though she knew there was little she could do with the color darkening her cheeks.

Still, she wasn’t a virgin and the world had not ended. The pleasant smell of meat and strong spices was emanating through the camp, and she tried to let her focus on the food dim her consciousness of all the eyes on her.

Unfortunately she had not thought of what she was going to say to Lagat about things. Needless to say when she and Kharzu approached the fire and Durash met her longtime friend and first wife’s unreadable gaze her heart beat harder. Lagat didn’t look angry, but sometimes her being quiet like this was a sign of something even worse. She didn’t want to look guilty, since she hadn’t been doing anything wrong, but still she felt like it when Lagat just nodded at her and then at Kharzu.

“Malacath Scorned… why can’t I just fight a troll or something? It would be so much easier…” Durash found herself groaning, not even noticing how whiny that sounded until Kharzu laughed at her back.

F!Orc!Chief/F!Orc!Wives “A Stronger Hold” (6b/9a)

[(Anonymous)]

“Nothing worth having is easy, Chief. Give her a moment. You’ll make it up to her tomorrow.” The chief reluctantly nodded, taking her own bowl of hearty stew and chunk of bread as she tried to think of just how she was going to approach her first wife.

Lagat was helping to coordinate dinner and was on her feet still while Durash was seated at the head of the long table, her forgewife seated to the left. The food was good, but how could she concentrate with Lagat moving about so close to her? And what was worse was when the beautiful woman had to raise her voice to snap at someone Durash could actually identify that ache between her legs.

“My Chief.” The voice of her first wife gave her a start just before Lagat came from behind her to take her proper seat to her right. “Forgewife.”

“Lagat,” both Durash and Kharzu replied. The chief knew her words were at least a little breathless. She’d didn’t recall ever being as aware of her first wife as she was now. But somehow she couldn’t keep her eyes from rolling over Lagat’s luscious lips and dainty tusks, or the glorious ratios of full breasts to thin waist and shapely hips. Had she always ached like this?

No, it was worse now that she knew what it was like to taste a woman. It wasn’t just a distant dream anymore, or late night imaginings with a guilty hand between virgin thighs. For better or worse her forgewife had initiated her into the sexual world, and now she knew all too keenly what she was missing. Durash was moist at the sight of her first wife, even as her body still throbbed from Kharzu’s ardent attention.

But had the very thing that released her ruined her chances?

A cleared throat had Durash raising her eyes, and her cheeks absolutely blazing heat as she met Lagat’s gaze. The beautiful Orsimer had an eyebrow raised and a smile was playing over her lips. “Have a nice lunch?”

“Lagat!” Durash gasped, and of course both of her awful wives laughed at her.

And just like that the tension between them dissolved like fat in a fire.

*****

F!Orc!Chief/F!Orc!Wives “A Stronger Hold” (7a/9a)

[(Anonymous)]

That night they’d slept in their respective places, as Durash’s bed was still really too small to accommodate much more than herself. The morning was busy and Durash did not even encounter her wives as she was occupied discouraging a giant from their doorstep. It was the first time that Durash got to use her new present. The sword, of course. Onyx cut through the giant like nothing, though she had to fell an angry mammoth as well. Unfortunate, but no doubt her alchemist would be pleased with the extra toes and horn.

She was just cleaning off her blade when she found herself nearly walking into Lagat. The beautiful woman chuckled at her, “Gorgeous sword.”

“Um, yes… from Kharzu.” Durash took in the sight of her wife, and happened to spot the pommel of an ebony blade at Lagat’s hip. “That dagger… from her as well?”

“Actually yes.” In response her first wife pulled it out for her to inspect, showing her the onyx blade inlaid with orichalcum just as her greatsword was. The motif was also similar, portraying an Orsimer woman like a siren, with flowing hair and a curvy body that shaped the blade. “She also made me another present.”

“Oh, what was it?” Durash started, not sure if she wanted to ask just what Kharzu had done, especially after her…other gift.

“Now wouldn’t you like to know?” Her first wife purred.

She never thought she’d heard a tone like that in Lagat’s voice before. Durash couldn’t explain why it was she fidgeted so much at that, licking her lips as she started to shy under her first wife’s regard.

“That’s alright…” the chief started, knowing that she couldn’t stop her own damnedable blushing. But she wasn’t going to let herself back down so easily. Lagat was her wife, her first, and she was owed more of Durash’s time and attention.

She’d been thinking on things for a while now, and it seemed as good a time as any to finally address the…status of their relationship. The chief couldn’t give herself the time to try and worm her way out of this. “Am I neglecting you?”

Lagat actually looked startled voiceless before sheathing her dagger. Her mouth opened to begin saying something, but then she seemed to dismiss it, gesturing for Durash to follow her to the longhouse. It wasn’t until they were safely inside the building, away from prying eyes, that she spoke again. “What are you talking about?”

Durash shored up her courage, looking at her gorgeous first wife and tried to remember that she had battled dragons before. There was no way that this could be harder. “Yesterday I was with Kharzu. I never would have come to her myself, but she took charge, made me see my own needs and her own. And I know that I’ve not thought much of yours. We were just so busy to start with, getting the hold together, and you are so much more than I deserve… Malacath would be ashamed, but I didn’t have the audacity to approach.”

“Not everything is on your head, Durash,” Lagat sighed, running her hand over the chief’s armored thigh. “I could very well have tossed you down and ravished you myself.”

The frankness of it had Durash reeling to process it; fortunately she was saved from having to think of something to say by Lagat’s lips. They tasted even better than they looked, and she could only wonder why she hadn’t discovered this sooner. As their mouths embraced she found her hands wandering to all those curves that she’d admired from afar. It was strange that touching Lagat was similar, but also quite different from her previous encounter with Kharzu. Where Kharzu’s frame was hard with muscle Lagat was softer, more pliant. She rolled into her arms, and shuddered as Durash’s hand found a supple breast beneath her tunic.

Lagat’s mouth broke from her own and started a merciless descent down her sensitive throat. Perhaps it had been how long she had been waiting for this, but Durash found herself unable to contain her voice. Before she knew it they’d made their way to the too-small bed. There was no way to describe how it felt to have her wife’s dainty tusks nipping at her neck while she was rocking in her lap. The chief was trying to keep up, but found it hard to concentrate with the wet pull of Lagat’s mouth suckling a pointed ear.

F!Orc!Chief/F!Orc!Wives “A Stronger Hold” (7b/9a)

[(Anonymous)]

She was so thoroughly distracted that she didn’t notice her hands being eased above her head, not until the cool kiss of metal clasped her wrists. Durash gave a start, only to have her hands come up short as she tried to reach for her wife. “Lagat…”

She could feel Lagat’s smile against her lips and Durash’s heart started to beat like mad. The beautiful orcismer did not reply at first. Lagat was straddling her on the bed and the chief groaned at the heat of her supple body rubbing against her. Her wife was hot, and grinding their lower bodies together until the chief was left weak and breathless beneath her.

When Lagat sat up Durash was just trying to get a hold of the relentless throbbing of her sex between her legs. The Orsimer was like a siren sitting astride her, hair flowing down her shoulders, breastband loose beneath her disheveled tunic. “First wife…” Durash tried again, growing increasingly restless.

“You wanted to know what Kharzu gifted me,” she purred, pale eyes smiling as Durash abruptly realized what she meant. The cuffs. Of course. No normal object of ebony would be so warm or gentle about her wrists. Malacath…that woman. Lagat seemed to sense what she was thinking and a delighted laugh rolled through her chest before she retrieved the dagger that was her other gift. The blade shone brightly as her wife twirled it between her fingers, then brought it down to skim the point over the leather holding together the chief’s armor. The tough hide parted like butter. Her mouth tried to form some sort of protest at the destruction of her best set of armor but found she couldn’t form the words.

Heat was high in her cheeks as she was stripped with a feral grin, her best friend looking exceptionally pleased as she freed the chief’s breasts to the open air. Durash yelped when two hands reached down to cup them, kneading the full flesh and making her whimper. Lagat was savoring the weight, rubbing them in circles before her mouth descended down to kiss their aching tips.

In her wife’s greedy hands her breasts felt sore and sexual like she couldn’t express. That merciless mouth worried at a pebbled nipple, sucking and teasing her teeth over the tender place until the chief could hardly say still through the torment. A high noise of protest only motivated her wife to move to the other peak, leaving Durash slick with sweat and writhing as she tried to either get closer or father from that evil mouth.

It was only then, when Durash was a hot mess that Lagat leaned back, seeming to admire her handiwork in the long pause. The chief knew she made a sight, her breasts heaving, glistening with sweat and saliva their peaks so red and sore by now that just the slightest breeze seemed a torment. “Very nice,” Lagat purred at her, deft hands traveling down Durash’s trembling body to caress her flanks.

The chief could only watch in terrible anticipation as those careful fingers slipped down to play over the waistband of her leathers. Well tended nails scratched just above the level of the hide, teasing the skittish skin below her navel. “We ought to take these off I think… after all I want a good look at my good chief.”

Durash didn’t know what it was about the women in her life that they seemed so keen on tormenting her. But Lagat seemed in no hurry to go about it. She stroked and teased, rubbing her palm against the heat between her legs before going down to work on freeing Durash from her boots. By the time the chief was nude she was terribly excited, tusks biting into her full upper lip as Lagat at last slid down her smalls and tossed them a distance away.

There wasn’t any negotiation as Lagat came back to the bed and wrapped a gentle hand around her ankle, and Durash started when ebony enveloped it as well. She swore, immediately moving to close her legs when a gentle but ruthless magic drew her thighs apart and allowed Lagat to easily bind the other to its corresponding post. Now she was nude, strapped down to the bed with all of her too eager body on display for a wife that seemed to take great pleasure in her humiliation.

“Is this really necessary?” Durash croaked on the second try, her voice having failed her on the first.

“Well, I don’t want you interrupting my little show.”

F!Orc!Chief/F!Orc!Wives “A Stronger Hold” (7c/9a)

[(Anonymous)]

“Your─” The chief completely forgot what she was going to say as Lagat settled between her thighs and drew her tunic up over her head. Her beautiful first wife’s breasts bounced as her arms came down again, and Durash watched with baited breath as Lagat’s skirt pooled around her knees. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath it.

With a grin as wide as a sabre cat’s Lagat’s hands perused her own body, effortlessly capturing Durash’s undivided attention. Deft hands smoothed over a glorious landscape of curves. She’d pause to pluck a nipple, tongue traveling over her lips as the beautiful woman eased her knees just a little farther apart. Already the chief couldn’t help the way her gaze fell to the soft petals glistening between her first wife’s legs. The slight down over her mound was matted with dew, the sheen of moisture making Durash’s mouth water for her taste.

She suddenly realized that she had not gotten the chance to taste Kharzu the night before, and the revelation made her even more eager to know the flavor of a woman. As if she knew Lagat seemed set on teasing her with it, one slim hand running down her body to finally come to stroke between her swollen folds. The first wife leaned her head back as she began to lazily bring herself pleasure.

Thin fingers massaged the nether lips under her fingers, stroking the flushed skin with a lingering sigh as she started slow. Durash jerked under the bonds minutely, but Lagat didn’t pay the movement any mind. No, not when she could explore the more delicate petals hidden there, spreading her moisture all over the blushing sex. A profound shudder rocked her wife, and Durash knew she was rubbing the hood over her hardened clit.

Durash would never admit to the thin whine that escaped her as she ached to replace that hand between her thighs. Lagat took a good long time working that sweet spot with her fingers, a high little cry tearing from the beauty as she pulled that hood back to touch the swollen spot directly. It was so intense it had her first wife pitching forward, bracing herself against Durash’s chest, hips rolling into her hand. “Oh Durash...”

F!Orc!Chief/F!Orc!Wives “A Stronger Hold” (8a/9a)

[(Anonymous)]

A soft knock on the doorframe was the only warning before Kharzu came sauntering in. As always the scent of smoke and iron accompanied her entrance. The tall woman’s gaze appreciatively perused Durash’s bound form and the nude body of Lagat above her. Durash couldn’t even image how many colors she turned as she squirmed in the cuffs.

“Lovely to see my wedding gifts going to such good use,” the smith rumbled, approaching the bed at a leisurely pace.

When forge-roughened fingers stroked over her bound ankle Durash found herself releasing a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Durash shivered under the touch, but Kharzu’s dark eyes were moving to Lagat next. That hand moved from where it was teasing her ankle to mold itself over the ripe swell of Lagat’s raised bottom. Her first wife’s back arched like cat, a wrenching moan slipping between her lips as she finally extracted that hand from where it had been buried between her thighs.

A deep chuckle echoed in the forgewife’s well-muscled form as strong arms wrap around Lagat’s waist and shoulders, and her first wife’s nude form was dragged back against the smith. It was a striking juxtaposition. Durash watched as with one hand Kharzu handled one of Lagat’s small, pert breasts, the other lingering around the light-skinned orc’s navel. “Would you like some help?” Kharzu purred into the smaller woman’s ear, and she could see the shudder travel through every inch of Lagat. A sharp tongue traced the pointed tip of the first wife’s ear.

“Yes, Malacath yes.”

Dark lips curved, “Alright then. Let’s show our sweet chief a thing or two.” With those words of forboding Kharzu’s hand traveled the short distance down to those most coveted places. It was no surprise that within moments Lagat was whining, moaning as she rocked against the hand between her legs. Durash knew firsthand how skilled those fingers were, and Kharzu did not seem keen on sparing the petite woman. She could see a rough finger firmly rubbing Lagat’s clit as she writhed, another two buried in the wet heat of her cunt. The forgewoman plucked at a pert nipple as she drug more moisture out and slicked that pussy further.

It was a beautiful torture as all she could do was twist in the bonds holding her tight while she watched Kharzu toying with Lagat. Oh but her first wife was beautiful in pleasure, even more so as she grew desperate for it. Nothing spoke desire like the way Lagat’s legs parted further, her hands had to come down to brace herself as she offered Kharzu more of her body. The forgewoman seemed to take full advantage, her strokes growing more vigorous.

Lagat made a whining moue and Durash’s eyes snapped up to see Kharzu bringing glistening fingers to her lips. She seemed to purr with satisfaction, savoring the flavor even as Lagat bemoaned the pause in her ravishment. It made the chief’s mouth water.

“Want a taste?”

Durash could only assume that Malacath had chosen to have mercy on her, because soon she was allowed to lick up the sweet honey of Lagat’s sex from those fingers. She found herself sucking hungrily on those digits, leaving Kharzu’s hand immaculately clean and both of her wives staring at her, cheeks flushed. Durash didn’t know whether to be proud or embarrassed at the starkly ravenous way that both women looked at her lips. Just having been acquainted with the scent of a woman’s sex, she’d always found it intoxicating, but the taste seemed a thousand times better. The chief hadn’t exactly meant to make a show of it, but it seemed to have riveted her spouses.

“Me next.”

Durash found all her fantasies coming true as Lagat started crawling up her body, the woman finally getting high enough to bring that fragrant sex close to level with her face. The chief did not need prompting, not with the thick scent of pheromone and excited woman making her mouth water, the taste of Lagat still lingering on her tongue.

F!Orc!Chief/F!Orc!Wives “A Stronger Hold” (8b/9a)

[(Anonymous)]

She slid her tongue across that flesh, groaning as it was so slick with cream she seemed to be drinking her pretty wife up. Lagat’s delighted squeal did not disappoint. Durash lost herself in exploring the fine petals of her wife’s flushed pussy, probing and stroking with that agile appendage as Lagat’s increasingly urgent cries filled the air. It was quite the sight to look up her wife’s body and see those curves heaving, noticing with ample appreciation Kharzu gently stroking down Lagat’s form as she helped support her while the slighter woman writhed.

Durash could tell she was getting close as her tender pearl throbbed under an insistent suck. She swallowed and growled hungrily as her actions elicited more delicious nectar and the chief lapped eagerly away again. She wanted to feel her come under her mouth, yet Lagat twitched desperately when she got close, starting to shy away in the most frustrating manner. But Durash was not going to be denied.

She didn’t know how her hands were freed, all that mattered is when they came down she was able to grab those squirming hips and hold her woman still. The action wrenched a hot yelp from Lagat, but soon she was shuddering, thrashing, and sobbing out as she came while Durash swallowed down her pleasure like drink.

She was still sucking at the spasming folds, licking the stiff little jewel until Lagat’s cries took on a shriller note and Durash realized her girl was a little too sensitive. She released her hips, and Lagat shakily backed up, sitting lower astride the chief as she caught her breath.

Durash was aching herself, but she couldn’t help but feel terribly satisfied seeing Lagat look so surprised and pleased as she shifted restlessly due to her tender, well-attended sex.

“Do you want to show your dear first wife your wedding present, Durash?”

Kharzu was grinning roguishly as she stroked a lazy hand over the heaving breasts under her hands, casually tweaking a nipple to drag out a groan. Durash’s gaze fell down to the wet, swollen sex she had been worshipping and the chief felt her own cunt ache with longing. It was beautiful looking at Lagat while she ate her, but to see her writhe around her wedding present, riding her to satisfaction… “Fuck yes.”

The forgewoman chuckled, finally releasing Lagat while she went to retrieve the toy. When she returned she had that infamous harness with her and Durash gave a shudder. Lagat seemed too addled at the moment to notice what was going on, the pale orc having settled on Durash during her recovery. Of course both Durash and Kharzu had yet to come, and the chief found herself riveted as her forgewife began to actually strap the device onto her.

If Durash had suspected magic before, she was sure of it as licks of frightful pleasure made her glad she was lying down. The phantom echo of Kharzu’s firm hand around the shaft as she settled things seemed to stroke her clit like it was much larger than it was. She didn’t know whether to bless or curse her forgewife as the aggressive woman grinned at her reaction and gave the toy three hard pulls.

The stream of swearing that came from Durash was sure to strip the varnish off the walls. Her forgewife was clearly wasted making weapons, as it seemed her true calling was in torturous sexual devices.

Kharzu just laughed and patted her thigh as she groaned, trying to get used to the feeling. “You’ll be fine,” she chided. Durash was feeling just off balance enough to want to snap at her, but all thoughts of complaint fled her mind as Kharzu’s hands came around and started pulling Lagat back.

Her firstwife started, and Durash hissed, feeling the echoes of the soft curve of Lagat’s ass brush against the smooth ebony of the toy. Lagat turned her head about to look, a soft noise coming from her throat before Durash felt her rub more firmly against it. Pale eyes looked between Durash and Kharzu, and her face spread slowly into a vulpine smile, “I feel like I’m getting all the attention.”