Fuck! Yes!! Lose yourself!

Chapter 12: Possessed

Why stop now?

Why stop ever?

Wait... your mind suggests.

Fuck her! Fill her! Make it wild! Your hips start a frantic rhythm. The orc whimpers.

She loves it. You love it. Focus on that slick friction. The gliding... Ah!

A tightness in your mind seems to blacken your vision, narrow your thoughts. Her plump, green hips clap back against your muscled waist. They do it again, and then again. Her tight lower back arches as your palms encircle the stiffening tips of her nipples. You pull her back against you and bite her shoulder sharply as you press her chest into the rock. She moans...

She's tight. She's wet. You love it. She's hot. The orc gasps. Something deep in the distance moans too.

Her whole body rotates, spinning in place... Oh... ... No...

That's your vision again. Fuck. Focus.

"K'roohhh..." she cries beneath you. Her arms raising from your hips and fumbling for your wrists. You grab them and pin her to the rock beneath the falls of His bathing pool. Her attempted gasps turn almost instantly into another shuddering, broken orgasm as you ram your hips into hers. The tight, slick suction reminds you of her mouth earlier, but this is more... intimate... Yes... More appropriate, perhaps...

Something black flashes within your mind; something...

She's so tight, wet, hot, molten, thick, jiggling, willing, moaning, green, gasping, tightening, squeezing...

Oh.

"Fuck!" you hear her cry beneath you. You thrust harder, faster, and longer...

Ah...

She cums again, clenching so firmly around your dick that your mindless, thrusting rhythm becomes lost between her convulsions and the cold, lapping of the waves against your hips and thighs. It seems to happen over, and over; over, and over... but surely it's only a few, wet slaps...

For a piercing moment this feels almost surreal, as if something primal screams and tears through the back of your mind, lost and echoing in the fuzzy, orc-brewed distance of the ever-deepening forest behind you. You gaze blurrily back over your shoulder, but all you see is the crash of the river-water above you. The wanton woman beneath you only seems to tighten further, and something deep inside of you pops... In reality, it all took but a few seconds...

You're cumming again, filling the orcish beauty with hot, white, spurting seed. The doubt in the back of your head seems to fizzle away with each bright, intermittent flashing of your vision as the thick, gushing liquid shoots deeper and deeper into her tightening bowels.

You gasp as you finally finish, panting as if you'd just fought off the entire goblin horde... The darkening world spins. You reach for your holy blade... It's not there... You're naked... Wait... (Are you...) No...

Something hot slips beneath your waist - a sharp blow crashes against your arm - your jaw - then suddenly you are floating in a frigid sea of spiraling stars.

(...that drunk?)

This is... beautiful... you imagine. Each swirling thought brings the sky closer, but it swirls too fast. Stop.

Oh, it stopped. It's still... spinning. No, wait. Ahh...

Fuck it. Close your eyes. The spin. The surge. Surge? Pain. Ah, well, yes. The spin. The pain. Oh, fuck! The glistening black... The pain?

Your breath comes wetly... Wait. _No. _That's water. You try to hold it in, like expunging it would be defeat... but it's already spurting past your lips. Your thrashing hands seem to only splash more water into your thrashing face...

You cough, sputtering... **** back the holy water of Myr's bathing pool as pure survival instinct finally jolts you back to full awareness. Your lungs convulse, forcing freezing water into your throat and up into your nasal cavity as you retch painfully into the pool. You plunge, swirl, gurgle, and finally find purchase on jagged rock. Desperately now, you pull yourself up for air. At last you find it. It is heavenly, even amidst the raw, rasping pain.

You gasp; you cough... you sputter... again. Again... You hack until your throat feels justifiably raw. Slowly, you come back to yourself... Your swirling vision starts to center again. The anchoring stone beneath you is wet with your own expulsions, but you are free of the **** water... (His water? asks your sobering mind.)

"What have I..."

The sky is pitch black; Myr's moon fully hidden behind a thick, bulbous coverage of endless, swirling(?) cloud.. Your cock is frigid and soft. No trace of the beautiful orc woman remains, though she's still hot in your mind...

Was she a dream?

No... She was definitely real.

No. You lost yourself somewhere along the way. She has long since left you. Why? Still, even now, your vision seems to swirl as you somehow - instinctively - find your way back to your pile of silver, steel, and leathers. Your gear is untouched, but the orc woman's additions may as well have never existed.

No... No. That's not true, you realize. Her drinking gourd - lacquered and shining in the moonlight - lies there. By your touch it seems nearly empty. Suddenly you feel the cold.

You shiver, naked in the breeze as your arms instinctively search for warmth. You seek your sword. The gloaming scabbard welcomes your encompassing, drunken gaze. To your drunken fingers, the leather-wrapped hilt is like coming home. Youthful memories of your master briefly flash before your eyes, and then you tremblingly, saddeningly, realize that you are no longer in battle.

"M-m-m-yr..."

Only the dimmest, darkest, glimmer of a spark shines back at you within your holy blade's moonstone. The blade itself is still perfectly sheathed within its scabbard. It is untouched, unmarred after its ritual cleansing... but...

Oh. Oh no... What... happened?

"W-what have I d-done?" you gasp shiveringly.

It seems you've come to a... ch-chilling...

END