War Room Romp

Korr lifts Stella on top of the map table, pushing away little figurines. A token showing a fox falls to the ground and one of the puppets promptly comes to pick it up, but cannot replace it on the map as there is now a thick witch booty on the spot where it used to stand. When she sees the mannequin standing awkwardly beside her, as if waiting on her to be done, she berates them. "Get out you useless fools!" They promptly leave the room, giving the witch and her boytoy some privacy.

Korr's tusks brush against her neck as he kisses her soft skin, swiftly taking her mind away from her animated servants. She doesn't waste time opening his robe, trailing her hands all over his muscular hairy chest. She touches him as if trying to memorize his whole body by touch alone, moving her fingers over every inch of him. She revels in the hardness of his muscles, in how she can tell them apart as they bulge across his green skin.

His breath is ragged and loud, as if it takes an effort on his part to not vocalize his enjoyment of the witch's touch. His crotch rubs against hers, and the massive hardening bulge makes her bite her lips.

Her legs spread open as if guided of their own volition, and she pulls her dress up. She has stopped wearing underwear around the tower, to always be ready for her stud. He has to bend his knees a little to be at the right height while she sits on the table. While he looms above her, she cannot stop thinking about how huge he is, in every senses of the word.

The massive head of his dick pushes against her vagina, and then slips in with ease. Her hole is starting to get used to his enormous cock, allowing him to go much harsher on her.

He pounds her hard enough to make the table move with each thrusts, shaking the tactical tokens off the edge. Stella's mind slowly turns to mush as she is overtaken by the intense pleasure. Her eyes climb up, her fingers dig into her paramour's arms, her toes curl and her tongue hangs out as she reaches her climax. Her screams meld with the uncouth sounds of flesh hitting flesh.

Korr keeps pounding into her until he reaches his own climax, pumping her womb full of virile seed. He bends down, pushing more of his weight on top of the witch and letting out his moans close to her ears.

The room grows warm, humid, and pungent. His sensitive nose picks up every fragrance that she lets out, and he pushes his face against her neck to fully appreciate her natural perfume while he slowly climbs down from his climax. Stella's nose is also filled with the scent of their dirty romp; The mix of orc's musk and the scent of his thick sperm seems to seep directly from her nostrils and into her brain, making her crave more of him.

She twitches under him, her vagina spasming around the dick still embedded inside her. She wants him to stay forever intertwined with her, and she silently curses that thought. It has been a while since she has felt such a deep craving for another person.

Korr lifts her up from the table, pulling her in for a kiss while she is still impaled on his dick. She squirms in his arms, kissing him back but tapping him on the chest to express her disgruntlement; He is the plaything, and yet he handles her like she's his good little fucktoy, holding her up with one arm.

Once he pulls his lips off hers, he takes a look at the map, which is now devoid of strategic tokens. While he observe the painted landscape, Stella keeps quivering against his chest, clenching her pussy around his dick.

"Your wood guys know where to replace the troops, right?"

"Hmm-Hmm."

"Good, I almost felt bad for messing up your map."

She weakly lifts a hand, sending arcane sparks fly. The wooden puppets promptly re-enters the room, busying themselves to redo the map. One of the mannequins is still clutching onto the fox token, replacing it in the royal forests south of the human capital.

"Does the prince ever joins his troops on the field?" Korr asks. The fox is the nickname given to Prince Enguerrand the Eight, a cruel and sniveling coward who fancies himself a cunning hunter. The token represents the army division that he leads.

"'course not," Stella mumbles shakily.

"Of course," he spits, shaking his head.

"What 's it?" Despite her current mindscape, she can still sense that there is something on her stud's mind.

He snickers, then looks down at the map. "Before my capture, when I was leading my party in enemy territories... We were trying to get to the fox battalion."

"Why?" Stella has to make a considerably effort to ignore the dick and focus on the conversation, but she is greatly intrigued by what her prisoner has to say.

"We... we wanted to get to the prince. To... **** him."

Stella's eyebrows rise up. She wasn't expecting that, and is actually surprised to not have seen this information when she first delved into his mind. Then again, she can hear a hint of shame in his voice; This could've been the reason why his latest mission was hidden in his mind during her delve.

She gasps when he pulls her up to take her off his dick. He drops her on her shaky feet, then brings his attention to the war map. She has to hold onto the side of table while her legs slowly regain their composure.

"Why would you kill the prince?" She can think of at least ten reasons why she would kill the prick, but she's curious to hear what Korr's reasoning is.

"He's just as much of a warmonger as his father... and mine, for that matter. Both the King of Gallade and my father want to keep this conflict going. I didn't really see any way to stop the war without taking them out of the picture, but in the case of the human king, it wouldn't be much better if he was replaced by his son."

"You really want this war to end, huh?" Stella places one hand on her stud's arm, looking up to him.

He turns to face her and gives her a shy smile. In his eyes, she can see the toll that this ongoing war has taken on him; The fatigue-filled right eye is just as telling as the missing left one. She remembers a time when the orcs of the Charred Marshes lived peacefully on the border of the Kingdom of Gallade, but the war had already been going on for years when Korr was born.

"You mentioned the king and the warchief... After killing the prince, were you planning to take out these two? Would you kill your own father."

Korr freezes. He was expecting the question, but that doesn't make it any easier to answer. While he considers how to respond, a puppet enters the room with a letter, and then rearranges some of the tokens to illustrate troop movement according to the latest reports of the witch's spies.

"Only if there are no other recourse," he finally utters.