You are captured.

You look around trying to make sense of the battle. You have never had a head for battle and often spent what little war councils you attended fantasising about losing. Sometimes, when you were particularly daring, bringing yourself to a wet orgasm under the table. When the Mad Duke had rebelled your mind had been full of you being stripped, naked and helpless, **** to kiss his feet.

But the Mad Duke hadn't even made it close to the capital. It was just a fantasy, and this was real not as glamorous as you thought and very scary but still a little sexy. The orcs carve their way through the disorganised men. Wanting to defend yourself you beg your men "someone, please, give me a weapon!"

Sir Henry tosses his sword at your feet and draws a mace. You bend at the waist, something both a proper queen and a proper slut would do. The sword is heavy but you can use it if you hold it with two hands.

The knights seem to be the only ones holding their own against the orcs, their heavy armor allows them to survive a hit or two from the screaming barbarians. The archers are also safe, high up on the ramparts aiming for gaps in the orc's rough plate. Everyone else is retreating or being cut down.

Closer to the palace entrance you see a few officers have managed to rally some formations around them and are preparing to advance.

You feel trapped on your platform surrounded by a violent sea growing full of orcs. Your mind doesn't like this feeling of helplessness, but your pussy certainly does, A relatively reserved orc is looking at you and heading straight for you. You grip your sword preparing for a fight.

There isn't one. As you bring your sword back the orc deftly tosses a net over you and grabs your hands in his iron grip. He lifts you up and starts walking towards the gate. You scrabble to keep up with your arms as you are dragged away from your men. You do manage to free your left hand and grab a post; this prompts another orc to grab your left arm. They carry you out of the gate. Your feet barely touch the ground and you twist around shaking your breasts in a pathetic attempt to escape. The net hanging over your body doesn't hid anything.

You look back at the battle your men are slowly gaining an advantage, but they won't win fast enough to rescue you. The devastating siege weapon, what ever it is, takes out a section of the castle wall, sending many archers flying with a large crash. Panic builds in you; you do like the idea of being captured in battle but not by orcs. They are more pig than man. Well, these ones do have mostly human faces and are leaner. You scan green skin stretched tight over rippling muscles, and imagine his long, thick cock. You shake your head trying to clear it; a queen, even a slutty one, should have some standards.

A group of orcs have left with the two carrying you. They all wear matching war paint meaning they are likely part of the same tribe.

They carry you out of your castle through the city. Walking is very difficult with your impractical heels on the rough cobble stone; you would trip if the orcs weren't holding you up. The orcs have to move slower not out of consideration for you or because of your attempts to resist, but because they can't quite move at the same speed. You often feel like a tug o' war rope as they pull unevenly on your arms.

To move faster the orc that first grabbed tightly wraps his net around your torso binding your arms to your sides. You struggle and manage to make sure your tits work their way through two holes in the net. He then lifts you on to his shoulder and moves at a pace that makes you bounce uncomfortably. Your ass is high in the air covered in only the chain of your steel thong. He gives it a few pats that you feel as stinging slaps. You look around; the orcs did very little damage You catch townsfolk peaking out of upper story windows, and wonder how many others are hidden witnesses to your humiliating capture.

As the group approaches the get you hear the whistle of an arrow come from the gate. It is immediately followed by a voice saying "you fool! that could have hit the queen. No one loose any arrows, just watch."

It is likely that by tonight every man will have heard every detail of how your tits bounce when freed or your ass shakes after an orc smack.

Outside of the city there is a small siege camp. There are some human tents and a trebuchet set up. Orcs have been known to use human slaves to help with sieges, but not on this scale. Maybe a human has hired the orcs, but humans find it even harder to control the beasts. This means only two or three orcs are hired at a time, hardly the army that stormed your castle. You are taken to where the orcs' part of the camp as evidence by their unique carts.

Lacking any form of civilisation orcs **** their females into one of three roles: warriors some were in the group walking you out, child care, or **** labour usually pulling carts for the tribe. These female orcs were still in their harnesses. Looking over their toned bodies, you do feel a little bit of jealousy for these slaves: a rope between their legs to keep them satisfied, kisses from a whip, and surprise sex at anytime. But you are about to have your own fun you know what orcs do to captives.

The orcs release you, tossing you to the ground in front of them. You wince and prepare for the utter humiliation of having their thick cocks roughly penetrate you, but nothing happens. You stand they have form a loose circle around you, looking their prize up and down, but just stand there. One of the orcs is speaking probably the closest thing to an elder. Your orcish is rusty but you can make out him saying something like <boss said not to be rough with her unless she gives trouble>.

The one you think to be the leader agrees saying something like <She hardly put up a fight>. Fuck them you think annoyed. Give them a fight. Well that you can do. Your borrowed sword had been tangled up in the net and made the trip with you. You ready it, knowing you have no hope of defending yourself, but you do like making men work for you.

They laugh. You can't believe it. Chance or not you are swinging a blade around; they should be taking you seriously. You feel your face get scrunched up in a mixture of anger and frustration. You decide to remind them and take a swipe at the shoulder of the nearest orc. He easily deflects the blow with one arm and pushes you with the other. You tumble to the ground a few feet from your sword. Your ass wiggles in the air as you crawl over to it.

Fighting isn't effective. You decide to make a run for it the orcs will likely recapture you, but there is a chance you will make it to the safety of the wall. You decide to risk it, and run through a small gap in the the circle.

You of course can barely run in your heels and make it five steps before being tackled. You cry out as the leader picks you up by your left tit. He carries you back; you clutch his arm gasping in pain. When he tosses you to the ground you notice an angry red hand print forming on your sore breast. He looks down at you saying "I guess we will have to tire you out."