Orcs Read Online Free PDF

was yanked upright, then goaded to the marble slab, where they lifted him bodily by his arms and legs. The agony of being dumped unceremoniously on its surface made him cry out. He lay panting, his eyes watery. They removed the chains and fastened his wrists and ankles with the shackles.
    Jennesta curtly dismissed the guards. They bowed and lumbered out.
    She went to the brazier and sprinkled powdered incense on the coals. Heady perfume filled the air. Crossing to the altar, she took up the ceremonial dagger and the chalice.
    With an effort, the man turned his head her way. “At least allow me the mercy of a quick death,” he pleaded.
    Now she loomed over him, the knife in her hand. He drew an audible breath and started to recite some prayer or incantation, his panic making the words an incomprehensible babble.
    “You’re spouting gibberish,” she chided. “Still your tongue.” Blade in hand, she stooped.
    And cut through the loincloth.
    She sliced away the material and tossed it aside. Placing the knife on the edge of the slab, she contemplated his nudity.
    Slack-jawed, he stammered, “What —?” His face reddened with embarrassment. He gulped and squirmed.
    “You Unis have a very unnatural attitude to your bodies,” she told him, matter-of-factly. “You feel shame where none should exist.”
    She lifted his head with one hand and put the chalice to his lips with the other. “Drink,” she commanded, sharply tilting the vessel.
    Enough of the potion poured down his throat before he gagged and clamped his teeth on the rim. She removed the cup, leaving him coughing and spluttering. Some of the urinecoloured liquid dribbled from the sides of his mouth.
    It was quick-acting but short-lived, so she wasted no time. Untying the straps of her gown, she let it fall to the floor.
    He stared at her, wide-eyed with disbelief. His gaze took in her generous, jutting breasts. It moved down past her taut midriff to the pleasing camber of her hips, the long, curvaceous sweep of her legs and the luxuriant downy mound at her crotch.
    Jennesta had a physical perfection which combined the sumptuous charms of a human woman with the alien heritage of her crossbred origins. He had never seen the like.
    For her part, she recognised in him a struggle between the prudery of his Uni upbringing and the innate hunger of male lust. The aphrodisiac would help tilt the balance in the right direction, and deaden the pain of his ill-treatment. If need be she could add the persuasive powers of her sorcery. But she knew the best inducement required no magic.
    She slid on to the side of the slab and brought her face close to his. The strange, sweet muskiness of her breath made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. She blew gently in his ear, whispered shockingly explicit endearments. He blushed again, though this time perhaps not entirely because of abashment.
    At last he found his voice. “Why do you torment me this way?”
    “You torment yourself,” she responded huskily, “by denying the joys of the flesh.”
    “Whore!”
    Giggling, she leaned nearer, the tips of her swaying breasts tickling his chest. She made as if to kiss him, but drew back at the last. Wetting her fingers, she slowly trailed them around his nipples until they became erect. His breathing grew heavier. The potion was beginning to work.
    Swallowing loudly, he summoned enough resolution to utter, “The thought of congress with you is repulsive to me.”
    “Really?” She eased on to him, straddling his body, her pubic hair pressed against his abdomen. He strained at the shackles, but feebly.
    Jennesta was enjoying his humiliation, the destruction of his resolve. It heightened her own excitement. She parted her lips and disgorged a tongue that seemed overlong for the cavity of her mouth. It proved coarse-textured when she started licking his throat and shoulders.
    Despite himself, he was becoming aroused. She squeezed her legs more firmly against the sides of his