Scratched My Inner Thighs

Journal of Rowana, daughter of Rowetha
22 / 04 / 2120 of the Fourth Age

I woke to the smell of breakfast. Fresh eggs and the last of the soykaf. Bebe was cooking in the pre-dawn darkness. Azzie was wearing only a pair of panties, which her ass was doing the best to swallow. Without a word, the big-dicked Orc dished me up. On the counter by the sink, the green dildo was freshly cleaned and set out to dry. He gave us an awkward smile and left to climb into his sleeping bag, before the sun rose.

As I forked eggs into my mouth, Azzie sat opposite me, her tits on the tabletop. The little glimmer of the ring deep in her cleavage, like a vein of native gold on the wall of a cave. She waited patiently as I ate. It was like a game. Which one of us would crack first.

"Why?" I asked, as I set my fork on the plate and reached for the soykaf.

"Why do you think?" Azzie shot back. She raised one eyebrow, and her ears wiggled.

Sip. Swallow. There was a stupidly obvious answer.

"You want me to get pregnant," I said.

Azzie smiled.

"I want us to get pregnant," she said.

"Precious...we're barely surviving as it is. All we have is my pension and we already have three mouths to feed. We're out in the sticks. There's no doctors, no prenatal care. If the crop fails..."

My left hand clenched into a fist. Azzie reached out to grab it. Her fingers were very warm. Strong.

"Those are considerations," the Uruk said. "But not the reason."

"I'm a lesbian, babe. I don't want to fuck Bebe," I said, bluntly. "I don't need a cock in me."

"You like the dildo well enough," Azzie countered. "And you've had dicks before. That's not the reason, either."

"Okay, if you know me so well, what is the reason?" I said, more peevish than pissed.

There should have been anger. Righteous anger. She'd invaded my privacy at a level that I'd never experienced. But those big dark eyes focused on me and I felt it hard to feel mad. We'd jacked straight across. I'd seen her past. What she'd done. What they had done to her.

"You're afraid you'll be a bad parent," Azzie said simply. "Like your parents. You don't want to do a bad job of raising a kid."

That...made me freeze. It was deep, and struck hard. I had never known how much of my memories Azzie had seen, when I saw her own. Azzie extended one finger, to let the tip play on my wrist.

"Anyway, it was really a...proof of concept. I didn't do it because I want Bebe to bend you over the kitchen table and knock you up right now," the Uruk said, although the way she smiled it was clear that she was thinking about that. "What I wanted to see is if I could do it. Because if I could enable your ovulation...then you can enable mine."

I frowned. Forehead crinkled.

"Why can't you enable your own?" I asked. Then it came to me. "The people who made you. They disabled that functionality."

"Didn't want us to have any control of our own reproduction," Azzie said with a nod. "I can't have a family. But I want one. I want the option."

I chewed that thought. It was something I understood. Not all shackles were physical. Bodily autonomy was important to a former ****. To any woman, really. And, in truth, I couldn't stay mad at her.

"You should have asked me," I said.

"I should have," she agreed.

She drew back her hand...and then bent my fist backwards. Her fingers sought my palm, and I let her in. Let our fingers interlace, palm to palm.

"How can I make it up to you?" she asked.

I blinked. We didn't have a relationship of debts. My brain couldn't think of anything. Ranger training really didn't prepare me for a relationship with a Uruk-hai.

Azzie leaned across the table. Dragged her tits right up to the edge of my plate.

"How about," she said, voice soft and husky. "Tonight, when you get back from Bardur's...you fuck my ass?"

Despite the soykaf, my mouth was suddenly very dry.

"Um. Yeah. Okay," I managed.

She flashed her fangs. "Remember some lube. In the meantime..."

Azzie let go of my hand and pulled back. Then she ducked under the table, and I realized why. I felt her tug at my boxers, and the rag that I had stuffed in there since I didn't have any tampons or pads.

"Precious, I'm still..." I warned her.

She didn't need warning. Her nose bumped into my clit. Tongue ran wet and hungry over my cunny. The stubble on my labia must have scratched her face. Her lower fangs—small tusks, really, though smaller than Bebe's—scratched my inner thighs. As they had many times. I had little scars there, from where Azzie had scratched me hard enough to break the skin. Her hands rubbed at my thighs as her tongue moved deeper.

That wasn't the way she normally ate me out. Azzie liked to focus on my clit. Liked to lick and suck, make me moan and quiver in her grasp. This was different. That warm, strong, tongue licked the menstrual blood from her labia. Then it delved deeper. As if driven by some primal bloodlust. Into my hot depths. After the source of that nasty crimson flow that I hadn't felt for over twenty years.

Only then, I'd never had anybody to lick my sore pussy. Never had anybody to kiss it and make it better.

"F-fuck, Azzie," I said, as the sun came up. "I've got to go...you'll have to stop..."

She did. About twenty minutes later, with a satisfied grin.

"My ass," she promised. "Tonight. All yours."