"What?"

Drako, standing before the nearly ten foot tall orc, was shocked at the expression of the Orcish woman, not one of fear, or of apprehension. Nor one of sadness, or any real negative emotion, as she simply gazed at him, an expression of pure, unadulterated bliss, as her jaw was nearly unhinged, a smile of an odd sort, full of glee, as she stepped towards Drako, one step, another, and before even a single second had passed, she was upon him.

The beautiful orc, utterly unperturbed by the previous, seemingly traumatic experience, she simply wrapped her legs around Drako’s waist, a strong, firm pair of legs, straining greatly to hold his form, as she was simply dwarfed by him, thick beefy arms, more defined and while much smaller than Drako’s own, they were quite enticing, leaving nothing to the imagination,, as she spoke her first sentence since meeting him, “What are ya’?” An intriguing tone left her lips, as she simply trickled her hands daintily across his form.

Drako, confused at her forthright attitude, answered her honestly, to the best of his knowledge, “I’m a sort of Giant… And a sort of Dragon. But really, I don’t know…” Then, as Drako stood there, he suddenly became curious, as he spoke once more, introducing himself with a tender tone, “My name is Drakor’Anos Incinerath Frostreaver, and so on, but you can call me Drako… what might your name be, my lady?”

This brought the eager orc to a halt, as she responded simply, “Dala’Sathryni Elthestrea… Or just Dala, if you prefer…” As she responded to him, her hands resumed their work, moving swiftly about Drako’s body, as she spoke once more, a tone of slight teasing, but mostly of lust, “What are your plans for me, sir Drako?” She whispered into his ear, drawing each word out as they crossed the tongue, a tender breath for each and every word.

This stopped Drako in his tracks, as he promptly considered every option he had, what would a true Dungeon Master do? Who cares, Drako sure didn’t, as what he TRULY wanted to do was something much more primal than what the Master of a Dungeon would have time for, as Drako held Dala within his surprisingly gentle embrace, as a sudden shift began shaking his form, growing it subtly, though quite discernible after merely a minute. Then, Drako responded, a similar, breathy whisper within her ear, “My plan? I could plan to hold you, oh so tender, and oh so gently… I could treat you with all the care and grace this world could handle… Though, I fear you don’t want that…” He stopped briefly, a momentary halt on his thoughts, before, “But, I must admit, neither do I…”

And with that, Drako took a single step forward, falling with Dala in his arms, finding the firm ground of the throne room surrounding him, as he looked around, finding nothing but a bare chamber, aside from all the suddenly useless embellishments, before tossing that idea aside, as he simply approached his throne, a cool, icy expression of hardly obscured lust, hidden under a visage of obviously faux anger, as he reached his throne.

All the while, Dala had heard Drako’s words, and what came wasn’t fear, or apprehension, not a feeling of dread as with the horrid orc from before, this monstrous, bestial entity before her, who saved her life, probably, in some way or another, but disregarding that entirely, every single word that slowly left Drako’s mouth, each and every thunderous proclamation had drop after drop dripping in nigh endless droves from between her legs, as she donned her own faux expression, once more, hardly contained lust, brimming at the surface of her entire rippling form, as she slowly released herself from Drako, standing before him, as he took his seat upon his throne, and she kneeled, the expression of faux emotion, fear, as she ‘begged for mercy’, “Please, sir Drako… I’ll do anything ya’ want me too, I promise… Don’t be too rough, I can’t handle it…”

Every word that left her mouth was caked in a sultry, lustful tone, though it was also laden with an, again, obviously faux hesitance, as Drako responded in turn, “Ok, dear Dala… As long as you follow my orders, I shall treat you kindly…” As Drako spoke these words, it suddenly dawned on him the satisfaction he was deriving from it, as his rock hard member was bursting at the seams of his pants, as he continued, “Now come, don’t keep me waiting…”

Breaking through the thin veil of fear and worry, unwittingly breaking free of the facade she was playing into, a wide, beaming smile was suddenly upon her face, as she crawled on her knees over to the throne, head firmly pressed against his leg, as she spoke once again, an utterly unmasked tone of excitement bursting through.