The Farmer's Son and the Orc Chief

This story was written as a part of the “Tales of Leinyere” event on Literotica, a collaborative fantasy worldbuilding event from many talented Literotica authors. It’s written by the fictional in-universe author D Proudpen. Look for the event on Literotica’s story page to find links to a map of Leinyere, the official timeline of all our stories, and links to all the stories in the event from all the fantastic authors who have participated. Thanks for stepping into this world with us, and happy reading!

The Farmer’s Son and The Orc Chieftain, by D. Proudpen

There was a farm outside the Quartoc lands
With little land and even fewer hands
The father was a human, mother elf
Proud and strong, reliant on themselves
They had a couple daughters, then a boy
Grew up with handmade clothes and makeshift toys
But hearts and bellies full for every year
Their life was peaceful, if a bit austere
The father aged, the mother stayed the same
The oldest daughter, Larin was her name
She grew into a beauty of the age
Her sister, Yela, something of a sage
They say she read the seasons like a book
And quieted the storms with just a look
Their brother got his father’s bulging arms
From years and years of working on the farm
And though he got his mother’s pointed ears
He turned out larger than his human peers
Young Darrett, with his father’s strapping chin
And handsome, if a bit lopsided, grin
An eligible bachelor in town
Attracted smiles and glances all around
But whether he lacked notice or intent
He remained a stubborn, single gent
Until the days the orcs rode to the farm
Intending just a little bit of harm
It was a small band riding to the west
Led by a fiery, fearsome warrioress
They’d lost their land along with half their clan
Their warriors were killed, quick, to a man.
So Gilgurat the chieftain's wife, bereft
Fled with all the women that were left
They rode for new lands, looking to survive
A place to call home, hopefully to thrive.
The lands near Darrett’s father’s farm were good
Open fields lined with fertile wood.
They settled there and then they thought they’d try
And raid the nearby village for supplies.
A dozen burly women made their way
Through orchards filled with fruit and fields with hay
And on their way along the country road
They passed our hero Darrett’s own abode
He heard the rumble o’er the rolling hills
And came outside to battle arms and wills
He’d heard the savagery of brutal orcs
And had no wish to be an early corpse
With axe in hand he stepped outside the door
And when he saw them coming, how he swore
Every one of them was six feet tall
At least. And armed. And ready for a brawl.
“What do you want?” He called out in a shout.
His booming voice turned Gilgurat about
“What? No ‘Hello’?” she answered with a growl
“And no ‘Good Morning’, no greeting at all?
What has become of hospitality?
Why not invite me for a cup of tea?”
Young Darrett held his ground and set his jaw
“I’d love to have a seat, reach an accord
But most people don’t do that armed with swords.”
He had a point, he thought. They’d come to fight.
But Gilgurat thought she was in the right.
“Where I come from you’d have to be a fool
To walk around without your killing tools.”
Then Darrett said without a trace of fear:
“You’re not there anymore. You’re here.
And I would like to know what you intend
Are you here as a foe or as a friend?”
The orcess licked her tusk and paused in thought
She knew just what would happen if they fought
They’d kill him, just as easy as could be
And move on through the village on a spree
It’s what their husbands would’ve done for sure
And thought it had a certain bold allure
They needed more than just a few supplies
They’d like to set up shop here for their lives
A peaceful life for orcs was something new
So Gilgurat considered what to do
“We’d like to settle on some land nearby
Suppose it’d help if no one had to die…”
Safe to say that Darrett was surprised
That orcs were not as cruel as advertised
And so they spoke. She told him of their flight
He empathized with them in all their plight
Young Darrett thought that they could get along
He hoped the future wouldn’t prove him wrong
But still he knew he’d help this band of orcs
And hold at bay the torches and pitchforks
“You’ll have to trade. You can’t just take supplies.”
He told the women, looking in their eyes
The grumbled, but they knew the words were true
And Darrett helped them know just what to do
They talked about the things that they could trade
And one by one the orc women were swayed
But Gilgurat had one more thing to say.
“We’re journeyed far. Our nerves begin to fray.
Our husbands died and left us all alone
It’s been a while since someone made us moan
We’ve hungered on our melancholy walk
So would you fuck us with your human cock?”
The man was stunned. He’d not expected this
He hadn’t even had his first real kiss!
His jaw hung low, he couldn’t think to talk
But such a muteness spared his growing cock
Gilgurat looked down and smiled to see
“It looks like something there wants to agree.”
He swallowed and he stammered and he choked
“I wuh, I guh, I duh, uh luh,” he croaked.
He thought they’d kiss or talk or maybe flirt
But Gilgurat just opened up her shirt
It didn’t solve his tongue’s stuttering fits
To see her soft and massive hanging tits
She asked him if he’d like for her to stop
He shook his head, afraid that he would pop.
“He’s cute,” remarked one of the other girls
Her finger twirling in her dark green curls
He started getting over all this shock
And unbuckled his pants to show his cock
“Do you like what you see right here?” he asked
She did, especially since he was at full mast
She wrapped her thick green fingers round his shaft
And showed how good she could be at her craft
She pulled and stroked and rubbed him up and down
And teased her fingertips along the crown
And though his cock stood straighter, tall and grand
The rest of Darrett melted in her hand
She pulled him close. He pursed his waiting lips
And suckled on her lovely pine-green nips
She cradled heavy balls in lime-green hands
And teased her other thumb around his glans
He used his mouth to suck and squeeze her tits
And reach his hand below to stroke her bits
They worked each other up into a lather
As round the other orcish women gathered
They watched as Gilgurat and Darret groped
And waited for their turn, at least they hoped
The chieftain and the farmer rubbed and stroked
Her orcish pussy quickly getting soaked
Just as quick as Darrett’s cock got hard
His eyes rolled up and then he dropped his guard
The orc, she pushed him over on his back
And went onto the sexual attack
Then she gripped his cock with all finesse
And lined it up to give the man access
into her tight and wet and dripping hole
He pierced her to her fierce and orcish hole
He couldn’t think to speak. So wet! So Tight!
There was no chance that he would last a night
She rode him on the ground with vim and verve
And Darrett, he was more than glad to serve
He hadn’t ever felt a thing like this
Never such an urgent, soothing bliss
He felt her asscheeks bounce against his thighs
And soon enough his balls began to rise
She cried out as she joined him at his peak
And all at once her pulsing thighs grew weak
He felt his torso clench, his toes go numb
He filled her with his sticky, dripping cum
She closed her eyes, collapsed against his chest
Settling in to have a well-earned rest
The other orcs, excited for their turn
Licked their lips and felt their pussies burn
Once the chieftain had her chance to wallow
An orgy with eleven orcs would follow
One of them, a redhead, faked a cough
So Darrett tapped her ass to nudge her off
He spent the whole day drowned in massive tits
His fingers and his tongue awash in clits
His cock consumed by pussies plump and tight
And thus he passed a long and blissful night
And once the day arrived and all were spent
Young Darrett was a very happy gent
The orcs, they had no need of pen or quill
No parchment onto which ti scrawl their will
They made alliances in blood and flesh
It worked, although they didn’t smell refreshed
The orcs would trade and work to earn their coin
The men of town were welcome ‘tween their loins
Their welcome took a bit of elbow grease
But all in all they lived a life of peace