Not really

Eventually, Miriam’s warm, soft body disentangles itself from yours after seemingly a sweet eternity of holding her close passes. It’s when she comes free that you hear a jingling sound, and it’s then you realize that attached to a simple necklace around her throat is the shining stone! You try to supress the shock and desperation in your voice that might betray its true worth as you stammeringly ask where she got it. She replies that the camp quartermaster gave the seemingly worthless bauble to her as a condescending gift to the camp’s favourite pet. Luckily for you, it seems your meagre posessions were some sort of a bonus for your sale to the orcs. Looking into your lover’s lust-glazed, adoring eyes, you sieze the opportunity and ask for it back, making up a story about it being a sentimental trinket given to you by your family. She replies with a broad smile

“Of course, Melena! To tell you the truth; I think some of the others don’t like me because I’m a good, obedient **** and I know my place. They’re probably just jealous. I like you though, you’re an utterly shameless orcish cock-whore, just like me! I’m sure we’ll have lots of fun together!”

She hands you back the invaluable stone, as you nod nervously at her appraisal of you and blush a deep crimson. You decide to loop the necklace with the stone under the **** collar on your neck, which is loose enough to hide it comfortably. You smile at how befriending Miriam and playing the part of a lusty **** girl seems to have paid off, though you worry how far this mentality will take you.

Miriam takes you by the hand playfully and brings you to your feet. The intoxicatingly wanton brunette flashes you a devious smile that makes your knees weak. With a girlish giggle she starts dragging you off somewhere like an over-eager child.

“Come on, time to meet the others.”

Miriam seems completely oblivious to her own nudity as she practically skips through the orcish encampment, passing many rough looking orcish warriors, who all smile at the sight of her body, her sluttiness attested to by the thin stream of orcish cum trickling down her thigh. Some of them give her a firm smack on the bottom, greeting her almost universally in a sexually degrading way, their tone ranging from affection to contempt. However she is greeted though, Miriam responds with a sensual flutter of her long eyelashes and a deferential tilt of her head, a perfect combination of submission and sexual promise.

The **** tent has as humble an exterior as the staus of its inhabitants, but inside it has the combined odors of fine perfumes and fresh sex befitting a high-class whorehouse. You see a breathtaking array of girls inside, just as Miriam described, of many pleasing varieties, all either nude or dressed in clothing so brief it emphasizes their sexual servitude as well as nudity ever could. Some girls rest in simple cots around the tent, others eat or preen, others openly service visiting orcs who seem to enjoy taking the human and elvish women in front of their enslaved sisters. You almost jump as you hear a high pitched squeak from near your bare feet, only two discover a exotic dusky skinned human woman entwined with an equally naked and gorgeous willowy elf. The former seems to be bringing the latter’s quivering body to orgasm simply from nibbling on her slender elvish ears.

The scene is so intensely erotic, you feel your own body twitching as your moisture slick thighs rub together. Miriam stirs you from your reverie to introduce you to the aforementioned elvish doctor, who is a sight no less erotic than anything else in this tent. She is “dressed” only in a white nurse’s cap and some white wristbands, seemingly some erotic parody of what she might have worn before she became a ****. Her skin is almost as fair as her clothes and her comely body smells fresh like the spring, and you have a sudden desire to find out if she tastes the same way. Both her nipples are pierced with thick golden rings that are attached by a fine but strong string to the front of her **** collar, keeping her full breasts uplifted. After Miriam introduces you to each other and you find her name is Aleriel. She raises her brow quizzically at you.

“Alright, Melena, was it? Let’s give you a look over.”

Aleriel kneels before you and starts to prize your shut legs apart. Ashamed of such a completely stranger looking so closely at your deeply aroused womanhood you try to keep them closed. She seems merely irritated by this and you feel too weak to resist as she forces your knees apart and gazes deep into your moist sex, her inquisitive eyes seeming to bore a hole into you as she examines your most intimate parts. Her index and middle fingers part your puffy petals, letting a few droplets of lingering orcish seed drip down to the ground, and you bite your bottom lip. She methodically feels around inside you with her thin elvish fingers drawing breathy gasps from you as she gives her matter of fact assessment.

“Excellent. Tight, but able to become wet, aroused and accommodating easily for a variety of different partners.”
She places her fingertip in a pot of cool ink and traces the inky digit along your buttocks, making what appears to be some arcane orcish symbol on your left buttcheek and another on your right, the feel of the cool ink and her gentle touch making you squeal. After she finishes marking you she seems to take more mental notes.

“Hmm, subject also exhibits extremely strong homosexual tendencies, aroused even by incidental touching by the same gender. Eminently suitable for lesbian sex shows and the like.”

You can’t help but ask her what she has just casually written on your pert bottom.

“Just the obligatory tattoo that brands you as property of the Black Steel Orcs. Also, a certification that you’re suitable for penetration by orcs of all shapes and sizes, and any of their equally well endowed allies. Well, alright, a more accurate translation of the marking is substantially more colloquial; something like “Grade A cock-slut”, I’d say.”

You instinctually move your hands down to cover the marking, suddenly aware of how unseemly it is for the chosen bearer of the shining stone to be marked in such a way, but Aleriel simply laughs telling you how the markings are written in enchanted ink, meaning not only are they resilient and very long lasting, but glow when the wearer tries to hide them. That’ll be yet another impediment if you can ever come up with an escape plan, you think.

Just then, a broad shouldered orc, garbed in a magnificent black steel breastplate, strides purposefully over to Aleriel. He has an almost maniacal look in his eyes, as he looks at her, a few strands of saliva dripping from from jagged teeth as he opens his mouth to shout.

“Bend over that desk right now, elvish whore! I’ve been out raiding for over a week, and I’ve gone half mad thinking about everything I’m going to do to you.”

The **** girl-cum-doctor gulps heavily as the orc’s massive shadow darkens her pale skin and seems uncharacteristically stammering and inarticulate as she weakly protests.

“B-but Master Hurash, I’m working right now…”

“But nothing, slut. Your work is to please me and you’ll do a good job of it!”

Hurash takes her little forearm in his huge clawed hand like he was simply squeezing the hilt of a blade, spinning her around and pushing her forward, bending her over her desk, the lithe elf almost toppling over it as various medical implements fly everywhere. He raises his hand and brings it down with such **** you can hear a whooshing noise as the air resists him. His calloused palm bounces off her fleshy ass, quickly raising a giant red handprint on her otherwise unblemished skin as she yelps.

“Master, I’m so-”

Aleriel’s apology is cut short as Hurash drops his britches and awkwardly places his already hard and throbbing cock at the entrance of her tiny anal pucker, grunting with frustration at the difficulty of the delicate task given his lust-addled lack of precision. The moment he manages it though, he thrusts forward with a triumphant roar, burying himself inside the svelte elf. Both rear their heads back and let out a bellow, one of triumph and one conveying the sensation of such a rough and sudden anal intrusion. His strong hands dig into her rump as he starts hammering into her, buggering the little elf without subtlety, not giving the slightest thought to any observers as you stare slack-jawed at the scene. You notice how unnaturally bulbous and swollen his green balls look as they whip around and smack Aleriel’s cunt rhythmically, seeing the obvious effect of prolonged abstinence on the orcish anatomy as you wonder if Aleriel’s body could contain the results of it when he climaxes.

It’s just then that your transfixed gaze remains on them a second too long and Hurash notices you.

“What are you looking at, ****?” he asks, still pounding away.