So Many Questions

I wait a bit to speak up, taking in the surroundings and the weight of Dagul's words. "I have so many questions. I don't know where to start," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

Dagul cuts me off, his voice firm and authoritative, "The old orc woman we met, her name is Itzera. She is the village spiritual leader and the second in command, only under me. If you need guidance or anything that puzzles you about orc culture, she would be the one to go to. The woman at the gates, Shakra, she is my younger sister, leader of the village army, and my personal guard. If you have any problems with anyone here, she would be the one to go to; she'll make sure the soldiers look out for you and keep you safe. Any more questions?"

I take a deep breath, trying to process the information. "Who was that girl who hugged you?" I ask, a hint of curiosity and perhaps a touch of jealousy in my voice.

"Of course... Jealous?" Dagul smirks, a wicked glint in his eye. "Her name is Kara. She was my previous mate, a little over-attached, to say the least. I'd watch out for her; she may be a bit jealous of you. Which is why I have Shakra keeping an eye out for you," he explains, his voice a low rumble.

"Oh, well, that's nice of you. Thank you, Dagul," I reply, a sense of relief washing over me.

"I can't have my mate die after going through all this trouble to break her in, right?" he says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

I nod, taking in his words. "Last thing, what did Itzera mean by 'Am I ready'?" I ask, my brow furrowing in confusion.

"To become Chief-tan, one must complete certain trials to strengthen the body and mind. The last trial can only be done when the orc is ready because it is the most dangerous. I don't know exactly what it is, but it involves traveling to the spiritual realm and back—a sort of ritual. Very few orcs can do this, and even fewer ever return from the spiritual realm. A Chief-tan must do this, but his mate must do so as well. She was concerned because no non-orc has ever survived the ritual, but then again, no non-orc has ever attempted it," Dagul explains, his voice serious and solemn.

"So, you brought me here to my ****?" I ask, a sense of dread washing over me.

"You agreed to it. You agreed to be my cocksleeve. Don't you remember?" Dagul reminds me, his voice firm and unyielding.

"Yes, but I didn't think I could die!" I exclaim, a note of panic in my voice.

"Don't worry; in time, you will come to, and the ritual will be performed. You won't die. I've trained for years to prepare myself for this," Dagul assures me, his voice confident and reassuring.

"I just... I am scared," I admit, my voice small and ****.

"Don't be. It is nothing to worry about. Now, how about you put your agreement to work then?" Dagul says, his voice taking on a commanding tone. He grabs my towel, ripping it away from me completely, exposing me. His assertiveness starts to get me aroused, and I wait in anticipation as he drops down his leggings, revealing his massive cock once again.