Obediently Await your Fate

As the Hob-Goblins bark orders at you, all that they see is submission. Shivering, you raise your hands and lower your head. Your exposed nipples peak out, hardening from the night air and the undeniable thrill of your fire situation. More orders are barked, and the Hob-Goblin rider makes a beckoning motion towards you.

You momentarily glance at your short sword, hidden expertly by the river bank, before striding forward from the water. You bite your lip as your sex, with it's unshaven golden tuffs of hair, peaks from the water. When you emerge, you're left standing by the fire light, dripping water.

You hear a small form approaching you from behind, likely trying to sneak up on you. You're hardly surprised by the blow hitting the back of your knee, but you allow yourself to topple. A repeat strike to the back of your other sends you toppling down to your knees.

"Please, wait. Please." You fake a sob. "My village is just over yonder. My father could -"

A rough blow from grubby hands strikes the back of your cheek, silencing you. You have to stifle a moan. You almost want to keep talking, so he'll do it again.

But you're conflicted. Is it better to show yourself tough so they know you'll make a good mount? Or docile so they won't think you're too much trouble?

Ultimately you meekly lower your head. If they think you're too weak a mount, they'll likely bring you back anyway. There would be more chances to prove that you're good mount material.

You feel a pair of hands slide harsh hemp rope up your wrists. The knot he ties is rough and tight, if you squirm too much your wrists will bleed. Although, if you so desired you could easily slip them.

The Hob-Goblin who'd tied you moved up, addressing the mounter rider. There's a faint resemblance between them. Are they kin perhaps? However their exchange of words, while clearly argumentative, is lost to you.

You're struck by the fact that your fate is being decided by this conversation, and not only can you not interject, you can't even understand it. There's a strange, masochistic thrill that comes with that, only blunted by a dawning realization that it's actually possible you might die here. The risk makes your heart beat so fast.

As they continue to exchange words, and the other goblins draw closer, your eyes are drawn back to the Orcish Wo-Mount standing so close to you. From your kneeling vantage point, your line of sight is directed right at the mount's crotch, and the circular insertion emerging from it. From up close you can see the straps holding it tantalizingly in position, the signs of slickness running down it's side, the split of her green lower lips to allow it in. You're also close enough to see the sleight way that the orc squirms every few seconds. Almost so slight you'd miss it. She must be well trained at keeping that...that thing inside her. Your own cunt dampens with anticipation.

Your captors continue to argue, but here you are staring at an Orc's cunt. Your lips slightly part, so close they can almost taste the woman's scent in the air. You're surprised by that. Sure you're aroused from envy, however as you stare at it, you wonder why, for the first time in your life, you're looking at another woman's parts...and find them sexy?

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