Chapter 1 - Gethan's Shame

Gethan’s Shame
             Gethan Adlan, revered paladin of the Silver Hand, an imposing figure standing like a statue in his glittering, silver plated armor, watched the new recruits intently. His hands rested on the base of his mighty two-handed mace as it sat on the ground before him, a weapon that few men would dream of using, bulky as it was, but Gethan wielded it easily and to great effect.
       Gethan cut an awe-inspiring figure, especially to the fresh paladin recruits who came to Stormwind to train. He was six and a half feet tall, broad chested and hugely muscled from years of rigorous training. Many recruits withered before his piercing blue eyes, eyes that gazed at one with such intensity that one was soon convinced he could see into the darkest recesses of your soul.
       He ran a hand through his shoulder-length, dark blonde hair and scratched the whiskers on his square, closely shaven chin.
       Gethan, besides being renowned for his prowess as a paladin, was also famed for his handsomeness. Though he was not a vain man by any stretch of the imagination, he served as the model for the Silver Hand’s recruitment flier; his face, hair swept back by the wind as he looked to the horizon, graced the posters that the Silver Hand recruiters hanged throughout the city. Many of the females, and a few of the males, priests and paladins fantasized about the studly paladin, and, when he trained, the audience around the training grounds became suspiciously packed with a female audience who watched Gethan’s training with great interest.
       It became such an issue and so much of a distraction that the officers of the Silver Hand banned any unauthorized audiences in the training grounds, much to the disappointment of many.
       For his part, Gethan was well aware of the ogling and half-lidded stares, the innuendo and flirting from the silly young, giggly priests, the overfriendliness of the female paladins; he could have any woman he wanted, but these things neither phased nor tempted him: he was happily married to his beautiful wife, had two adoring children, and a well-paying, high ranking position in the legendary Silver Hand. He worshiped the light and was a firm believer in its purpose and of spreading its beliefs. Gethan found himself frequently consulted by high ranking officials of the Alliance’s armed forces, his opinion carrying weight amongst the most powerful leaders of the Alliance.
       He had all of this by his twenty eighth birthday.
       But today, under his steely, seemingly focused gaze, his mind wandered elsewhere. Thinking ahead to tonight, he was both nervous and excited and ashamed of what was to come.
       
       “Your parries need work,” he informed Melinda, a recruit fresh from the fields of Westfall, as training broke for the day. He saw the devastated look on her pretty face. He laughed warmly, throwing his mace over his shoulder. “You’ll get there. Don’t worry. You have improved a great deal since you first came to us,” he said, seeing the recruit’s face light up, as she stared at him reverently, puppy love in her eyes. He knew they all worked hard to earn his praise; he hated that about training: they should be laboring to improve their service to the light and to the Alliance, not to Gethan. But what could one do? You trained them as best as you could and hoped they retained enough of the lessons to be useful, or to at least not get themselves or others killed.
       “Thank you, my lord. I’ll do better next session,” she said bashfully.
       “I know you will,” he stated.
       He dismissed her to the lady’s barracks and made his way to the officer’s quarters and hastily changed out his armor. He went to the stables and saddled his trusty horse, Swiftwind, and rode for home.
       Bystanders waved as he rode past them, recognizing the famous paladin from the posters, or from the tales of his heroic deeds. He waved back and smiled at them, inwardly worrying that he was too recognizable.
       He hoped he had taken enough precautions for tonight. He absolutely could not be recognized; everything depended on him not being caught. His reputation would be in ruins.
       
       Gethan rode up to his modest house, located in the Old Town district and stabled Swiftwind in the small stall adjacent to his house. It was lit brightly from the inside as it began to grow dark outside. He breathed deeply before he entered the door. He made it a point in his life to be as honest as he could, but he had to sell the lie that he had practiced in his head over and over again. He had to make it stick.
       When he entered, his wife greeted him as he removed his overcoat and cloak.
       “Gethan, honey!” she hailed him as they embraced. He felt his loving wife’s head nestled against his chest and experienced a pang of guilt so sharp that he almost abandoned his plans that night, but the wheels were already in motion. The gold was already spent. He was expected. And he had to get this out of his system, or it would gnaw at his mind the rest of his life.
       “My sweet Myra,” he said fondly, feeling his heart beat more rapidly at the utterance of her name. From the moment they met, those few years ago at the Cathedral of Stormwind, Gethan was sure she was the only woman for him. He was just a recruit back then, new to the big city of Stormwind. Just an orphan from a small village in Elwynn. She cared for him after he had taken a nasty beating in a training session.
       Myra had been a priestess of the light and was so kind to him and so compassionate as she treated his wounds. He was smitten by the beautiful, innocent brunette. Only six months later they were married. A year after their marriage, their first child was born: Gethan Jr., with long blond locks that matched his father’s. The year after that their second was born, a little girl named Ailsa.
His life had fallen into place so quickly that he barely realized it. He rose in the ranks of the Silver Hand and saw his prestige grow.
       He was happy, mostly. But he had to get something off his mind so he could finally move forward. That would be taken care of tonight, a small indiscretion to right him on his virtuous path.
       “What’s the matter, husband?” she asked. “Something’s on your mind. I can tell,” she said, frowning. She stroked his cheek as she looked at him with concern.
       His insides went cold. The words hit him like lightning. How did she know? Light, had he really been so careless.
       “Nothing, my sweet. I’m fine. It’s only just…”
       “What? You can tell me anything Geth.”
       I’m not so sure of that, he thought sadly.
       “Well, the Alliance High Command has called me into an emergency summit tonight. I had to come home to grab a few things before heading back.”
       She tilted her head to the side.
       “Tonight?” she asked. “Why tonight.”
       “They didn’t say,” he responded. Sell the lie, he told himself. “My guess is some sudden horde maneuver or somesuch and they want me on hand to mobilize the Silver Hand if need be. It’s likely a false alarm.”
       She frowned. “You’ve not spent a night away since you came back from the front. I just pray they won’t send you to the back there again. I couldn’t stand it.”
       “I know and I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I can’t do anything about it. Let us hope it’s nothing, huh?” he said, his voice breaking as he said it. Tears stung his eyes. He hated to do this to her. She didn’t deserve these lies.
       “I’ll say a prayer for you tonight, dear,” she hugged him again, burying her head in his broad chest. He twined his fingers into her chestnut curls and held her tight.
       I’m so, so sorry.
 
 
       He grabbed the pack he had hidden and prepared for this night from his closet and readied to leave the house, saying goodbye to his children before grabbing a hooded cloak from the coat rack.
       “Are you certain I can’t pack you any food for the night, Geth? You didn’t even get to eat dinner,” Myra said as she followed him to the door.
       “They’ll probably have something there, dear. I don’t want you to worry. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
       She nodded with resigned acceptance
       “Tomorrow then. Be safe,” she said. He leaned down and kissed her on the lips, prolonging the moment. He held her chin gently in his hands.
       “I will. It will be alright. I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said sadly as he turned to leave.
       Myra watched him from the doorstep.
       That’s odd, he didn’t take Swiftwind, Myra thought as Gethan rounded the corner and disappeared from sight.
 
       Gethan turned into the first alley he could. He swung the cloak over his shoulders and tied the clasps tight. He pulled the hood down over his head far enough so that was sure his face would be in shadow. His destination was the Stormwind Docks district, the seediest and most degenerate part of the city. He couldn’t risk being seen on his famous horse Swiftwind, so he would have to walk the whole way.
       He moved hurriedly, his stomach pitted in excitement and nerves. It was growing darker outside as he made his way through the city, avoiding any contact he could. He pulled the cloak tighter around himself, against the slight chill in the air. Gethan began to smell the salt on the wind. He was getting closer.
       The buildings started taking on a shabbier appearance, and he knew he was in the right area when he saw a sailor shouting drunkenly at a scantily clad woman across the street. She laughed, harsh and loud, and shouted back at him; the language made him cringe. He tried to keep his eyes straight ahead and ignore the wickedness around him. Drunks staggered through the streets, and he did his best to swerve out of their way and ignore them.
       Gethan followed the directions that had been given to him; he had an excellent memory for such details and soon found himself standing in front of the building he was looking for: The Mast Raiser, a large, three story house perched at the end of one of the quieter roads in the dock district
       He stood outside looking at the entrance. The name, engraved above the door, was lighted in deep purple fluorescent, the product of some spell no doubt. Candles burned in some of the windows. He heard what he was sure was a muffled moan from one of the upper windows. Gethan stood there, holding the cloak tight to his body; he felt more the scared little boy than the mighty, prestigious paladin he was. He fingered the engraved coin in his pocket. An enormous figure appraised him from the shadow of the doorway.
       His nerves threatened to abandon him again as he stood there.
       Just turn around now, forget this madness. Go home, you fool, his inner voice screamed at him.
       “Help you?” the shadow barked out, in a tone that suggested he wanted to anything but.
       Now’s the time: just turn around and run. It’s not too late. Think of Myra and the children. Think of the shame you would bring them.
       “WELL?!” the figure shouted, out of patience, hand moving to his hip. He couldn’t make out any features on the man; he was too enshrouded in the doorway’s deep shadow to see, but his size suggested he was Kul Tiran.
       Before he could think it through, Gethan pulled the large, runed coin out of his pocket, holding it before him like a ward. The figure shifted and moved towards him, stepping into the pale moonlight.
       The bouncer was almost as wide as he was tall and as ugly as he was surly looking, with a bushy black beard and a scar that ran vertical along his face. He held his hand out, and Gethan carefully placed the coin in it. The guard inspected it in the moonlight, then brought it to his mouth and bit down. The coin remained unbent and unmarred.
       He flipped the coin back to Gethan, who caught it and repocketed it.
       “Alright, follow me,” he grunted, beckoning the paladin as he stuck a meaty hand into his pocketed and produced a set of keys. Gethan followed. The bouncer opened the door for him and invited him inside.
       “Welcome to The Mast Raiser,” the guard said, with all the forced politeness he could muster.
       “Thank you,” Gethan said as he hurried past him.
       The door clicked shut behind him with ominous finality. The inner voice was resigned now; he knew it was too late to turn back now.
 
 
 
       
       The parlor he entered didn’t match the seediness that he had pictured in his mind. Two divans flanked a counter that sat at the far end of the room. A large metal chandelier cast light over the room. He could faintly smell lavender in the air. A pink haired gnome sat on a raised chair behind the counter; she wore a pair of black framed glasses and was reading intently, immersed in the book she had her head buried in. When she glanced up, she jumped in surprise.
       “Oh, hullo there, so sorry. This book is…whew. A real page turner. Anyway, welcome to The Mast Raiser, Stormwind’s premier bordello,” she said cheerily. “Well come on forward, big fella. Don’t be shy now. First time here I’m guessin’?”
       Gethan nodded, approaching the counter with hesitation. “Yes, ma’am,” he said sheepishly.
       The gnome giggled. Ha! Ma’am! Your first time here and my first time being called “Ma’am. Day of firsts for us both, eh? Well, let’s get you checked in so you can have some fun!”
       From over her glasses, the gnome peered up at his cloaked face.
       “You can take that cloak off if ya want! Or not, I suppose. Alright handsome, what’s your name?” the gnome asked, pulling out a thick appointment book from under the counter and cracking it open.
       “Gregory Smith,” Gethan said, giving her the pseudonym he had used to arrange all of this.
       She flipped a few pages and dragged her finger along the paper.
       “Hmm. Smithe. Ah ok, here ya are,” she said. “A bit early but that’s perfectly alright.” She fumbled under the counter again, cursing and shaking her head before she finally emerged wielding a skeleton key with a number five engraved on the bow.  She pressed it into his huge palm with her tiny hand.
       “You’re gonna have a great time tonight, good lookin.’ You’ll find your room up that main stairway, down the hallway on the right, then second door on the left. Your companion will be with you shortly. They’re one of the best. Have fun, Mr. Smithe,” she winked, smiling up at him before returning to her novel.
       When Gethan walked hurriedly towards the stairs, the gnome’s eyes followed his behind with a lecherous glint.
       “Nice ass,” she observed to herself, before returning her book.
       Gethan followed her directions, moving swiftly towards his room. He heard muffled sounds of pleasure as he passed other rooms on his way. When he found door five, he fumbled with the key before finally figuring out the lock and pushing into the room.
       He quickly closed the door behind him.
       The room had the same lavender smell as the lobby. It was lit low with candlelight, giving the room a relaxing, romantic ambiance. A large, comfortable looking four post bed, freshly cleaned and made, sat in the center of the room. An empty, copper colored clawfoot bathtub was placed in the room’s back left corner. A painting of a woman lounging nude hung on the far wall. A changing partition stood in the front left corner.
       Gethan put his rucksack down on the bed and removed his cloak and laid it beside it. He walked over and inspected himself in a body length mirror that was beside the tub; he fixed his dark blonde hair after the hood had flattened it.
       Gethan paced back and forth, his stomach in knots, feeling as though he was a recruit going into his first real battle. This proceeded for a few minutes, each of which felt like an eternity to Gethan, before a knock on the door interrupted.
       He breathed deeply.
       “Come in,” he said.
       The door opened, and she stepped through.
       She strode in, wearing a long coat that covered her body and carrying a bag in one hand. The heels of her leather boots clicked on the wooden floor. She shut the door behind her.
 
       The orc woman who stood before him was exactly what he had asked for when he arranged this night.
       She was a caramel brown skinned Mag’har woman. A few inches shorter than Gethan’s six and a half feet. Her face was beautiful, and not just by orc standards: savage, untamed beauty mixed across the features of her heart shaped face. Her little tusks poked out from the edges of her bottom lip. Her black hair was styled in an undercut, thick and rich on the top with the sides shaved close to her skin. Two bone earrings jutted from the upper half of her left ear. A ring pierced the septum of her nose.
       She looked him up and down, appraising him with bright amber eyes. A smile crossed her plump lips, lips that were painted with a deep ruby red, so dark a shade that they almost looked black.
       “Well, well, well,” she observed. “I was told you were handsome, but that was clearly an understatement,” she said bluntly, eyeing him up like a side of meat. Her voice was huskier than most women’s. “Quite different from the fey little warlocks and mages that I usually get as clients. Look at the muscles on you. We are gonna have some fun together, stud,” she said as she placed the large leather bag she brought in on the floor beside her.
       “Pleased to meet you ma’am,” he said, awed by the beautiful orc, in a tone that was more appropriate for greeting an ambassador rather than a lady of the night. He had only ever known orcs as the enemy, any he had met had been on the battlefield, certainly not in the bedchamber. It was the first time he’d ever even spoken a word to one.
       She scoffed. “Ma’am. The name’s Shahki.”
       Gethan inclined his head towards her in greeting.
       “I’m Ge….Gregory.”
       “Right. So, let’s get this part out of the way. I was informed of all your preferences for tonight. I’ll be taking control from here on out. You will refer to me as Mistress S from here on out. Or simply Mistress. Our safe word will be peacebloom.”
       “Safe word?” Gethan asked.
       She laughed harshly. “First timer, huh? Yes, it’s a word you can use if things go too far, and we need to stop.”
       Gethan’s jaw clenched, and he shifted uncomfortably.
       “Look, that rarely happens; I’m very good at this. You’ll get everything you wanted out of tonight and more. And no more questions from here on out, understood?” she said. He nodded.
       Taking on the persona of the Mistress, she looked at him sternly.
       “Now, I imagine contained in that bag on the bed is your change of clothes for tonight. Take them behind that partition and put ‘em on and let your mistress see how you look,” Shahki commanded. The brown skinned orc woman crossed her arms.
       Gethan couldn’t wait to see her out of that over coat. He grabbed his bag with nervous, trembling hands.
       She watched him as he walked away from her. A wicked smile crossed her lips as she beheld his thick, muscular ass straining against his tight linen pants.
       “Mmm, mmm, mmm,” she whispered under her breath.
       Once behind the partition, he stripped off his clothes. He could feel the orc’s eyes on him from behind the wooden, slitted curtain that stood between them. Standing naked, he looked down into the tied-up rucksack. He permitted himself a smile. No turning back now. He bent down and opened it.
 
 
       Frightening hunger burned in Shahki’s eyes when she saw Gethan step out in his new attire.
       Gethan Adlan, alias Gregory Smithe, proud paladin of the Silver Hand, married father of two, well respected paragon of the alliance, pillar of masculinity and handsomeness, stood before her in skimpy, bright pink lingerie.
       It was a far cry from his usual ornate armor. That much was certain.
       His cheeks burned bright red with embarrassment as his mistress’s amber eyes inspected him. His lips were painted with gaudy florescent pink lipstick. A lacy bra stretched across his broad pecs. His chest tapered down into his bare midsection, his chiseled six pack on display for his mistress’s viewing pleasure. A floral patterned, pink garter belt wrapped around his hips, the suspender belts stretching down and attaching to the bright pink fishnet stockings that covered his thickly muscled legs from mid-thigh down to his feet, the skimpy fabric straining against his skin, a sensation that brought Gethan great pleasure. And crammed into a pair of panties, barely contained in the sling custom made for them, was Gethan’s sizeable manhood and his hefty ballsack.
       His mistress was pleased. Oh so very pleased, but she only showed it in a slight upturn of the lip.
       “Turn around,” she ordered sternly.
       He obeyed, and the view did not disappoint.
       A thin pink thong, barely a string, ran up the crack of his ass, disappearing between his muscled buttcheeks. They were big, juicy orbs that were firm, round, and deliciously thick, the product of years of hard training, framed perfectly by the ladies’ underwear. A mouthwatering ass if Shahkia had ever seen one, a real feast for the eyes.
       Gethan was so different from Shahkia’s usual clientele: effeminate limp-dicked caster types who were sallow chested and flat assed. This was such a wonderful change of pace.
       “Perfect,” the orc said, a hitch in her voice. To think she was getting paid to have her way with this statuesque stud. Lucky gal.
       He turned back around.
       “Thank you, my mistress,” he said, bowing slightly. His face was still beet red from embarrassment, but the bulge in his panties only got bigger.
       Shahki untied her coat’s belt and let the thing fall, kicking it away with the high heel of her boot.
       Gethan knew right away he was going to get his money’s worth tonight.
       The brown skinned orc goddess’s juicy tits swayed free, high and firm but dangling a bit due to their considerable weight; they were a pair of delectable, head sized brown orbs ending with little dark brown nipples. Both nipples were pierced through with a small black ring, a matching onyx chain connected them, with enough slack that it swayed as she breathed. Every few inches, placed along the chain, a twisted bit of barbed wire appeared along it.  Just below, she wore a skintight leather corset, strapped together in a tier of three belts that circled her waist. At the corset’s bottom, black straps connected it past her midsection and onto the black stockings that ran into the thigh high black leather boots she wore.
       She was in fantastic shape, a perfect mix of muscles and curves. She looked strong: big biceps and thick legs, solidy built all the way through, while still maintaining her womanly curves. A tattoo covered her right shoulder, a black inked skull and crossbones with a pirate flag waving above it.
       But the real attraction, the thing Gethan had paid a premium for, the reason she was so popular amongst women and a certain type of man, was right in between the corset and the boots: it was packed into a pair of skin tight, black leather panties and strained for release from its confines.
       Gethan couldn’t take his eyes off that huge, alluring bulge. He licked his plump, painted-pink lips as he imagined all the possibility that portentous bulge contained.
       “I see my slave likes what he sees,” she observed with a wicked smile, noticing his ever-growing erection pressing against the sling on his silk thong.
       “Yes mistress,” he said breathlessly.
       “Good. Now, on your hands and knees and crawl to your mistress.”
       He gave her a quizzical look. The one she shot back could have melted permafrost.
       He fell to his knee and then fell forward on his hands, the thong digging uncomfortably into his ass, a sight that gave Shahkia great joy. He crawled on the smooth wooden floor until he was right before Shahkia’s boots. He heard the rich black leather creak as she adjusted her stance. She stuck one boot out.
       “Lick your way to the top, bitch,” she ordered.
       Well, he had asked for this treatment he supposed. He was far away from the command tables of the Alliance, that much was certain. Gods, if they knew about this….
       He stuck his tongue out and gave the leather a little lick, tasting the rich material. He licked his way upward, moving slowly, though he was eager to get to the main prize.
       “That’s a good human bitch boy. Polishing orc boots is all you’re good for,” she sneered, looking down at him.
       He came to the top of her boots finally. He was getting agonizingly close to it. He could feel the anticipation surging through his body.
       “You wanna see it, dontcha? I can see it in your eyes, dirty boy,” she teased. She reached down and cupped his chin. “Go on, pull my panties down.”
       He hooked his fingers into the tight waistband. He wriggled them off Shahkia’s body, no easy feat given how they strained against her wide ass and the forbidden content Gethan was trying to access.
       He finally yanked them all the way off with his big manly hands. She kicked them off from around her ankles. The cock sprung out so suddenly it smacked him in the chin. His eyes went wide in wonder as he stared at the orc woman’s massive meat that was suddenly invading his vision, a look of awe on his face.
       Shahkia smirked when she saw his reaction. It always amused her, seeing a client’s response to witnessing her glorious rod the first time.
       Swaying just before his face, invading his vision, was a mighty girl cock, eleven inches or so, meaty and thick. The brown orc poll, finally released, made his mouth water: it had a large throbbing vein that ran down the top until it came to the fat mushroom tip, a tip that was a deeper shade of brown than the rest of her meat. A triangular patch of black pubic hair hung above it. Below it were two smooth balls, big and succulent and surely loaded with orcish cream.
       “By the light,” Gethan whispered in awe.
       She smiled that wicked smile again, smug in her victory.
       “Light? No, the Light isn’t your god anymore. My cock is your god now, and your new god needs to be worshiped. Now tell me, I want to hear it from your mouth, slave: what is your new god.”
       He couldn’t. He had been a true believer in the Light all his life; he was totally devoted to it. His family, his work, his life all revolved around it.
       He shook his head.
       She shot a shocked, malevolent look down at the man kneeling before her.
       She bent to her side, reaching into the bag she brought into the room. She produced a short horse whip. She brought it down unceremoniously on his firm rump, the smooth flesh rippling around it. It cracked loudly, echoing through the room. Gethan yelped in pain.
       “I’ll give you another chance ‘cause I’m feeling generous: what is your new god?”
       He bit his lip. He didn’t see a way out. Call out peacebloom? Well, then the fun ends, but he couldn’t genuinely renounce his faith, could he? Maybe he could hazard a bit more defiance to stall. After all, the whip had felt kind of good as it stung his ass.
       Shahkia’s cock still dangled before him, leaking pre cum.
       He shook his head again. Her eyes grew wide with fury.
       CRACK.
       CRACK.
       The whip bit down on his ass twice. He moaned in shamed pleasure.
       “Last chance: what is your new god.”
       He looked up at her, his eyes pleading, hers full of fury and lust. She held each end of the whip.
       Gethan reasoned with himself. This was all fantasy, just say what she wants to hear. You can make penance with the Light later.
       “Your cock is, mistress. Your cock is my god now. I will serve it however you see fit.”
       “Better,” she exhaled. She grabbed the bottom of the shaft and lifted the cockhead away from Gethan’s face. “First, I wanna see some of that slutty pink lipstick on my balls.”
       She dangled her heavy sack towards his face.
       “Kiss ‘em,” she commanded.
       Moment of truth, Gethan thought. He swallowed deeply and grabbed hold of Shahkia’s legs for balance. He looked up that mag’har woman, who was grinning down at him, then straight ahead at the smooth brown orc nutsack swaying before his face.
       This moment would prove to be a dividing line in his life: everything that came before it and then everything after. It would all change after this.
       He puckered up and buried his face in Shahkia’s balls. They tasted slightly salty and had a faint but potent musk. The thrill of the act sent a surge through Gethan’s body; he knew his panties would be stained with precum. He kissed them hard, smacking his lips together; he had to ensure his lipstick made an impression on the smooth ballskin.
       Gethan had only ever been intimate with his wife. They dutifully made love once a month, setting aside a planned ahead time for it. It was often a dull affair, though Gethan looked forward to it. He did what he could to make it fun for Myra, but she never seemed too into the whole act. He had to go slowly with her, as she often found Gethan’s size painful.
       “Yes, yes, good boy,” Shahkia exulted over her domination of this powerful human man. “All those muscles, but you’re still a sissy at heart.”
       He moaned into her nutsack.
       When he pulled back, he inspected his work. A perfect silhouette of his pink lipstick was stamped on the orc woman’s balls.
       “Let me see how you did.” She pulled the sack up with her other hand and appraised it, finding it to her liking. She reached over, setting her whip aside, and took another toy from her sack.
       She pulled a collar around his throat, a black leather collar with metal spikes protruding outwards along the band. She attached a leash to it and held the leash in her hand.
       “There. You’re my pet now,” she said.
       “Yes, mistress, thank you.”
       “Mhm, so polite,” she said lowering her cock and letting it dangle in his face again. “Alright, I’m guessin’ you’ve never sucked cock before, so let’s change that, shall we? I’d get as much of it wet as I could if I were you. Where it’s going next, you’ll wanna ease its passage, trust me.”
       She laughed cruelly at this.
       Gethan felt this task would prove difficult. He had certainly never done anything like this, and, given the size of the orc woman’s meat, fitting the whole thing in his mouth was damned near impossible.
       The intimidating orcish girlcock swayed ominously in front of him, precum leaked from the slit; it seemed to pulse in anticipation. He could smell the salty discharge as it dripped to the floor.
       Shahkia yanked on his newly installed collar bringing him closer to the tip.
       “Worship at the altar of your new god. Suck. My. Dick,” she said, cold fury in her voice.
       His tongue darted out and licked the leaking mushroom tip, tasting the strong salty cream that oozed out of it. Maybe it was the delirious horniness overtaking him, or the powerful orc musk acting as an aphrodisiac, but Gethan found himself rather enjoying the taste of orc cum. His boldness grew, and he reached one of his large hands up and wrapped it around Shahkia’s thick shaft, feeling the girlcock pulse in his hand. His plump lips latched onto the wide mushroom tip like he was sucking on a hose. He drained more of the orc woman’s yummy ballbatter and swallowed it hungrily.
       Gethan swirled his tongue around the tip and pumped on her shaft at the same time. The orcess was soon breathing heavily, burying a hand in Gethan’s rich, blonde hair. It was all new to him, so he just went on instinct.
       “Mmm, you aren’t so bad at this. Ah, ohhhh, yeah pump that dick, bitch. Yes. YES. Fuck, you’re a natural.  Ain’t so shy now, are ya? Let’s get some more cock down your throat,” she moaned as she pushed his head farther down her pole. It throbbed and pulsed with heat.
       First an inch, then another, then another. She was steadily leaking cum now as the man worked her cock, stroking it and sucking on the first few inches, his tongue working on the underside. Shahkia backed against one of the posts of the bed and dropped the leash she held and grabbed the post with her free hand. It had been a while since she had been this turned on. Watching this godly hunk, dressed in slutty clothes, service her member with his hot mouth was driving her mad with pleasure.
       “Fuck yes. Good slut,” she sighed, as she thrust into his mouth.
       A messy cocktail of spit and orc cum was oozing from the man’s maw, down his square chin before dripping onto the floor. He gagged against her cock as she managed to get half of her meat into his mouth. She pulled back a little to give him some breathing room. After all, he was already doing so well, no use in breaking him too much right now.
       His tongue swabbed the fleshy bottom of Shahkia’s meat.
       “You’ve got a mouth made to be fucked, sissy boy. You sure you ain’t done this before? There you go, past halfway. Good cocksucker. Oh fuck yeah, stroke my big dick. Yes. Yes,” she grunted as she facefucked the once proud paladin.
       Gluck. Gluck. Gluck, Gethan’s throat sounded as he struggled to take Shahkia’s rod.
       Gethan felt tears well in his eyes and his jaw ached badly as the orc meat invaded his mouth. He coughed and more thick spunk overflowed from the corners of his mouth. Despite the difficulty, Gethan was truly enjoying himself. This alone had been worth every copper he spent.
The taboo and the depravity of what they were doing, the foreignness to his experience, submitting to this beautiful orc woman, it was all incredible and new to him, but it felt so right.
       Gods be damned though: his jaw was sore.
       She finally pulled all the way out of Gethan’s abused mouth. He gasped for breath as a web of jizzum and spit formed a web between his lips and the girlcock. He labored for breath, looking up at his beautiful mistress.
       “Now. Now. I can’t let you go wasting that precious orc seed,” she said as she grabbed the leash again and forced his head suddenly down towards the wood floor, until he was only a few inches above it. He looked at the congealed puddle on the floor and knew what she wanted him to do.
       She put a leather boot to the back of his neck and pulled the leash tight, driving his face to the floor. Like a dog gobbling up a treat, he ravenously licked up the puddle of spunk and spit from the wooden slats on the floor, making sure not to miss a droplet.
       “Such a good boy,” she sneered as she held the heel of her boot to his neck, watching the man lap up the remnants of her seed from the floor. “You humans truly are pathetic. So easy to break.”
       He listened to this as he licked up the last of the spunk from the smooth wooden floor.
       She eased her grip on Gethan after he finished his cleaning duty.
       “That was a nice warm up,” she stated.
       She turned and walked towards the bed, swaying her thick, wide ass. She knelt on the edge of the bed and bent over, giving Gethan one hell of a view of her rear and her dangling balls and cock.
       “Next, you’re gonna eat my ass out,” she stated matter-of-factly.
       “I’m going to…. what now?” he asked, dumbfounded, cum drizzling down his chin as he looked up.
       “Are you questioning me?” she thundered, looking over her shoulder at him, fire in those amber eyes.
       “No, mistress, no. I just. I don’t…understand what you mean.”
       She sighed. “It’s quite simple, dumbfuck. You get your sissy ass over here, pry my big ol’ cheeks apart, then lick my butthole like your life depends on it. Because it does. Got it?”
       “Y... Yes mistress. As you wish,” he answered tentatively.
       He walked up behind her and cautiously sunk his hands into her fleshy brown rear, pulling the huge round orbs apart with his strong hands, revealing her dark, wrinkled star.
       Fuck did those manly hands feel good on her ass, but she would never say it out loud.
       The thought of licking such an intimate part of someone’s body both repulsed and aroused Gethan in equal measure, but it was that kind of night. So Gethan stuck his tongue and licked that orc’s asshole like his life depended on it.
       Shahkia shivered through her whole body as her hunky paladin slave lavished her back hole with his tongue. Whatever shyness he had seemed to be gone. He licked the wrinkled skin, circling around the entrance. She felt the shaved hairs on his chin tickling along her taint, causing her to giggle girlishly.
       “Ooohhhhh, quick learner, fuck that feels good,” she panted out as Gethan’s tongue flicked across her hole.
She reached back and grabbed his hair and pressed his head into her backside.
“Mmmpph,” his muffled cried vibrated into her ass.
He let go of one of her cheeks and stroked his rock- hard cock through his panties. He couldn’t help himself. By sheer instinct, because it seemed like the next logical step, he penetrated her bum, snaking his tongue into her tight hole.
“Yesssss, oh good boyyyyy,” she howled. “Lick orc ass, suck orc dick. You are a good slut.”
“’hank zou misress,” his muffled voice sounded from her canyon.
Her hole was warm and tight, even his tongue struggled to get in. Light be damned was it delicious though. He delighted in the shivers coming off her body and the guttural growls of pleasure from her mouth. The combination of his hot breath and wet tongue penetrating her behind was driving Shahkia close to the edge. She pumped her dick furiously.
“Unhffff, Uhnnnn, ohhh,” she squealed out. The paladin’s wet tongue worked further into her tight backhole. His face was buried in her cheeks. The cum was roaring out of her balls like a raging river and down her shaft.
She had to stop it.
She kicked the hard-working man away from her ass. She was so close, and it felt so good; but she wanted to hold off and save it for a big finale.
Gethan looked puzzled and a little sad. Shahkia rolled over and beckoned him over fervently.
“C’mere. Kiss me. I wanna taste my ass,” she gasped out, short on breath. She had dropped the mistress character for the moment. Right now, she was just a simple orc girl horny for the human hunk in the bedroom.
He practically jumped on top of her, meeting her in a sloppy, cummy kiss. Their tongues flicked at each other and invaded one another’s mouth. Her tusks poked his cheeks, but he ignored the pain. She tasted her cum and ass in his mouth. They fumbled at each other’s sweaty bodies in crazed desire. He fondled her bountiful breasts, and she groped at his chiseled frame and squeezed his beefy ass. He finally freed his dick from his panties and let it rub against hers.
They moaned as they writhed together in the silk sheets. Kissing, fondling, sucking, stroking, licking. All roles were forgotten. Their minds clouded with lust.
Gethan pulled away from the kiss and latched onto her pierced nipple and sucked at it hungrily. He tasted metal and sweat. He manhandled her breasts, soft and pliable in his hands, and sucked on the dusky, erect nipples, alternating between them. She let her hands explore the striations of muscle on his back, pawed his ass, caressed his chest. Their dicks grinded against each other between the vice that was their bodies.
 She pulled his head off her breast and looked into his piercing blue eyes.
“I wanna fuck you,” she stated, holding his iron gaze.
“I wanna get fucked by you,” he answered.
“I want that beautiful ass,” she said.
“It’s yours,” he answered obediently, looking down at her.
“Damn right it is,” she shot back, trying to get back into character.
He got off her. She lay there panting for a few moments, her big brown pole jutting up obscenely. He stood there looking at her prone form, idly stroking himself. She looked up.
“Nice dick, not as big as mine, but not bad for a human sissyboy,” she deadpanned. She wiped the pooled sweat from her forehead and forced herself up.
“Alright, you get on the bed, on your hands and knees, rump up. I’ll grab some lube and then the real fun starts.” She went over to her bag and rooted around till she found a small vial filled with translucent liquid. She uncorked it with her sharp teeth and spit the cork on the ground.
When she turned, she saw Gethan had obeyed her.
The human was on his hands and knees in the middle of the bed, ass sticking out and gods be damned she almost busted right there. The sight was that fucking spectacular.
It stuck out, still with that pink thong digging up his crack, two perfect orbs and a little hole somewhere in there hankering for orc girlcock. He wiggled it back and forth, enticing the orc.
Shahkia tipped the vial and let it spill onto her massive erection. She ran it from base to tip, coating all eleven, azerothian diamond cutting inches in lube. She ran over and leaped on the bed, which sagged under their combined weight, and loomed over the paladin. She squatted behind him and grabbed the pink thong with both hand and pulled at it hard in opposite directions, her sweat sheened muscles flexing with the effort until the thong finally snapped in half. She cast the ruined underwear aside and gave his ass a smack. The flesh was firm and rippled slightly from the hit. A red handprint outline remained.
Buried in between his massive, muscled ass was his barely visible netherhole, a tiny, pink, puckered thing that looked just impossibly tight.
“I bet all the alliance girlies coo and just go crazy over you, but you don’t want them, do you bitch? What you really wanted was an orc queen to fuck every hole in your body. That’s why you came here. And I am gonna ride. That. Ass,” she said, emphasizing each word. Her meat dangled behind his outthrust, inviting tush.
“Yes mistress, please, please fuck your slave,” he pleaded. “Your cock is my god.
“Damn right it is. You want nothing more than to get dicked down by shestud cock, dontcha?” she asked, slapping her hefty brown meat on his taut, pale ass.
“I want shestud cock,” he agreed.
This is it, he thought. This is what it was all about. Gods, this is living. I’ve buried my head in prayer books most of my life when I could have been living it up. No more, he vowed, lustdrunk. It struck him that he had just said goodbye to his wife a few hours ago. So much had changed for him since then.
Shahkia grabbed a cheek and pulled it aside and lined her fat brown cockhead up with his bud. She eased the bulbous, greased mushroom tip into his tight hole, relishing the sight of deflowering Gethan’s backdoor and the man’s whorish moan.
Gethan whiteknuckled the bedsheets as his lover eased her way into him. She pushed past the resistance his tight hole put up. Shahkia gripped Gethan’s flanks tightly and watched her thick brown shaft disappear into his pale white rump.
Gethan squirmed and gasped and grunted. The massive invader was too much for his virgin ass. He heard the mag’har woman sigh in both triumph and pleasure as she mounted him. Tears once again welled in his eyes. The pressure in his ass built and built as more orc cock was crammed in. He felt so full. Inch by inch, he could feel every contour of the femcock in his bowels, every vein, every ridge.
“Ahhh, so tight,” she growled. “This is some prime, virgin manpussy.”
He tried to give her a yes mistress but all that came out was inane babble. He couldn’t form coherent thoughts. His eyes rolled back in his head. This was pleasure he never thought possible. Precum ran in rivers down his shaft.
Shahkia slid the last few agonizing inches in, watching the rest of her pole get swallowed up into the man’s ass.
Finally, her balls rested on his as her entire eleven inches of thick orc girlcock were sheathed inside Gethan’s snug bum. She relished the triumph for a few moments, delighting in her conquest. Gethan squirmed and gasped, feeling the massive invader pulsing with heat in his poor, stretched anus.
“Hope you’re ready,” she said.
He tried to form words but couldn’t. He only nodded. She ran her hand up his burly, sweaty back and grabbed a fistful of Gethan’s blonde hair. 
Shahkia pulled back slowly, the suction of Gethan’s ass making it difficult as it reluctantly released the sheathed girlcock, until just the tip was inside the paladin’s backdoor. She grinned and licked her lips.
She slammed forward, hilting herself again.
Gethan screamed, if it was more in pleasure or pain no one, not even himself, knew it.
His mistress had a tight grip, one on his hair the other on his flank; she began her work in earnest.
She reared back and plowed forth again, and again, and again. Her cumsoaked balls slapped against his with each stroke, the noise lewd and wet.
“YES. YES. YES. TAKE IT, WHORE,” she screamed with each thrust
, laughing cruelly as she conquered the previously formidable man.
       Gethan squirmed and writhed as his orc mistress pounded him. His gasps were silent: it was like being punched in the stomach and having the air knocked out of you. Except it felt a lot better somehow. He felt full, satisfied, used like a piece of meat. A piece of human fuckmeat for superior orc cock. That’s all he was now. He managed to look back at his ferocious lover.
       She was beautiful and frightening. Her malachite titchain swayed like a jump rope as she thrust back and forth. A sheen of sweat covered her. She looked him in the eye, not stopping her assault on his rectum. She grinned at him malevolently, showing off her little white fangs.
       She smacked his ass and threw her head back and cackled.
       The loud squelching of his ass filled the room, along with Shahkia’s grunting. She yanked his head back and pulled it back to hers. They kissed with sloppy passion. She kissed his neck and licked his earlobe.
       When they broke the kiss she shoved his head into the bed with tremendous force. She pulled his ass high in the air and held his shoulders down on the bed. Leather boots creaked as she widened her stance.
       “You’re my fuckhole now. Just a slutty piece of ass, to use as I see fit,” she growled in triumph. “Just a dumb slut to dump cum into.”
       “Yes mistress,” he gasped out. He was hers now; he knew it. The proud, powerful paladin was gone. His faith was gone. This was all he wanted now.
       She rode him hard in their new position, crashing into his anus with reckless abandon. His neck was corded in bulging veins, his face bright red, his entire body electric with pleasure. Her balls swayed below her like a pendulum and crashed into his with loud wet smacks.
       His ass was on fire with pleasure. He couldn’t hold back any longer.
       Hoarse, Gethan finally cried out as his cock erupted, spewing cum all over the bed sheets under him.
       “Cumming before me? Without permission? Bad boy,” she snarled. Her strokes increased and became lightning quick, the flesh smacking sounds filling the room.
       She gave him a few more hard strokes. She was close. She drove back into his abused tunnel.
       Shahkia let out a monstrous roar as she unleased a torrent of cream into his bowels. Hot spunk spewed from her tip and filled the paladin’s asshole. She came and came, shooting rope after rope, painting his insides white. She growled with each spurt. The piping hot cum filling his ass felt better than Gethan could have ever imagined.
       When she pulled out, an avalanche of nut came spilling out of the man’s stretched hole. She shot two wads on his firm backside. It ran down his ass and seeped into his fishnet stockings.
       Gethan lay there, abused ass still in the air, his face turned sideways, tongue lolling out of his mouth. His hole pulsed and throbbed in pain, and he could feel a draft in his gaped chasm.
 Shahkia stood on the bed and picked up his leash.
       “We ain’t done yet. You made a mess now clean it up,” she said, pointing at her cumcovered girlcock.
       She yanked him up onto his knees, and he held onto the mag’har woman’s big brown ass for support. He brought his tired, sore, abused mouth to her cock and started lavishing it in long licks, cleaning it off as best as he could.
       He tasted the delicious orc cum, as well as his ass and the lube she had used. He licked it all over while she stood above him clutching his leash.
       She held his hair, almost fondly, as he licked her dick clean.
       “Good boy,” she said, smiling down at him.
 
 
       They collapsed on the bed together. Shahkia went to her bag and grabbed a rolled cigarette and match and struck the match on her boot and lit the cigarette. She sat on the edge of the bed and peeled off her corset and boots, leaving only her stockings on. She lay back on the bed and smoked, her erection softening. The cigarette’s aroma was pungent and heavy. Some kind of herb, no doubt.
       “Have fun?” she asked, the voice of the Mistress gone. Gethan was shocked at how quickly she was able to drop character. “Hope it was worth the gold.”
       “Every copper,” Gethan said, lying beside her, still in recovery.
       “Good, good, what say we get a bath after I smoke?”
 
 
       She rang for servants, who came soon after and poured them a hot bath in the tub in their room.
       “Don’t worry, the servants here are deaf, mute, and unlettered,” she noted when she saw Gethan trying to hide from site under covers.
       Steam rose off the freshly poured water. They peeled off their stockings and the rest of their clothing. Gethan got in first, wincing at the water’s heat. Shahkia got in after him and laid back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her.
       They lounged in the tub. She lay back against him and closed her eyes. It was darkening in the room, the lighted candles burning down to their stems now.
       “Curious, what spurred on this fantasy,” she asked, looking up at him. The paladin considered for a moment.  “You don’t gotta tell me if you don’t want to,” she added.
       “No, it’s fine,” he said, his voice still hoarse from their session. “Started out simple enough: I was on patrol in Stranglethorn one afternoon and came to the bank of a river. I saw a figure there bathing. She was a mag’har woman, hadn’t seen me yet. I crouched in the bushes and watched her. She looked somewhat like you: pretty, nice body, and, of course, she had a little extra on her. A cock that is.
       “So, I just watched her. Keep in mind, my whole life, I never desired a woman that wasn’t my wife. Not one. But there was something about watching this orc. I took my cock out and got myself off, never done anything like that. I took off afterwards, never reported seeing her of course.”
       “Huh, that explains one part I suppose,” she considered. Gethan was idly rubbing her body as he told the story, tracing lines along her brown skin. He brought his hand to her flaccid cock and pumped it slowly.
       “For the other, well, I saw some sexy underwear while I was shopping for a present for my wife. It was a simple enough thing, but it set my mind working, you know. And you hear things around the barrack, even amongst the righteous. You hear about places where you can get certain needs taken care of and who to see about that.
       “So I went to The Slaughtered Lamb and used the password I had overheard and set this all up,” he said simply. He had her hard again, fondling her breast with his left hand and pumping her cock with his right.
       “Mmm, glad ya did,” she cooed. She reached her arm behind her and wrapped it around his head, giving him better access to her tits. He tweaked the nipple and massaged the sumptuous flesh. He kissed at her neck. He worked her cock, alternating fast and slow, doing it just like he had to his own when he saw the mag’har woman bathing in that river. The water sloshed in the tub as they got more into it. Shahkia felt the man’s erection flattened against her back.
       “Glad I did too,” he whispered in her ear.
       She finally blew, firing an arc of jizum out of the tub and onto the floor. Weaker spurts went a shorter distance until she had finally emptied her balls again.
       “Whew, that was nice,” she sighed.
 
 
       They laid on the bed naked and talked.
       Gethan told her of his worries, about his wife and kids and some vague details about his position in the alliance.
       She shrugged. Her hand ran along his abs gently.
       “What they don’t know won’t hurt ‘em is my thought on the matter,” the orc said. She was smoking another cigarette. She shared a puff with Gethan. It made him giddy and lightheaded and eased the pain in his throbbing ass.
       She put out the candles, and they laid there under the covers in the dark, the bordello quiet around them.
       What a night, Gethan thought, as he fell asleep.
          


