Commander Pinter Ch. 04

He was sturdy and erect, a full twelve inches. Pinter looked up at him, and she ran her tongue up his green cock. Ultur groaned as she licked him over and over, rubbing the base of his shaft with one hand, sliding out of her panties and playing with herself with the other. She licked him again. Ultur grunted and pet the top of her head. Pinter put her mouth around him. And she plunged down.

Pinter milked him. She stroked him off with her hand while she sucked him. Ultur wobbled on his feet. The more she sucked, the harder he went. He grew larger, bulging in her mouth, ready to pop with so much Orc cum. Pinter sped up, sucking harder, stroking faster. She looked up at Ultur with innocent eyes. He looked back with gritted teeth and stroked her cheek. Pinter popped him out of her mouth and reared up, guiding his cock between her breasts, pressing them together with her hands. Pinter fucked him with her tits.

Ultur's breath picked up. He grew in that moment before coming, and Pinter pressed her breasts tighter around his throbbing cock. She kept rubbing him, feeling him well, and she ran the tip of his heavy cock up and over her chin, over her lips. She opened her mouth just as he grunted loudly. Just as he burst.

White hot cum shot onto her face, onto her cheeks, into her eye, into her mouth. She rubbed out every last drop that Ultur had, and she put her mouth back on him. Pinter sucked him clean. She had a mouthful of Orc semen, and she swallowed. She came up for air, wiped the cum from her eye, and she looked back up at Ultur.

The Orc opened his eyes. He touched her cheek. And he grinned. "Little thing," he said. "Now I can go longer than you know."

Oh, shit.

He clutched her, and then Pinter was on her stomach. She prayed he didn't stick that thing in her ass, and then she felt Ultur push his erection between her legs, into her pussy which was soaked with arousal. She was ready for the size, but Ultur fucked her in a frenzy. Her ass lifted in the air and he knelt there effortlessly, ramming himself into her, pushing up to her womb. Pinter clawed at the wooden floor as the pressure was far too much at first, as it burned like nothing else. Pinter grimaced in discomfort as he shoved her back and forth on the floor, but then it was like a switch flipped.

Pinter moaned in pain at first, but then she closed her eyes. She wanted more. She moaned for it. She hoped for it. "Oh, shit," Pinter gasped. "Oh, yeah. Fuck me."

"What did you say?" Ultur asked. He grabbed her blonde hair and yanked her head back.

"Fuck me!" Pinter cried out as her scalp burned, as she felt her core erupt. Ultur felt it, too, and he sped up, taking the moment, fucking her faster and harder, his hips smacking into Pinter's ass. Pinter didn't have to push back. She cried out over and over as her heat rose, as she came to her plateau. She even laughed a little as it drew near, and then she screamed in her orgasm.

Ultur wasn't done with her. He kept thrusting as Pinter's pussy oozed, and suddenly she was on the brink one more time. Ultur grabbed her waist and pulled her backwards, lying down on his back with her up in the air. He thrust upward wildly, steadily. Pinter moaned in mindless abandon. "Oh, shit, you're breaking me," Pinter managed.

"I'll break you," Ultur said.

Pinter tried to laugh again, but then she flared. She screamed, and she bucked as her insides convulsed and clenched Ultur's cock. She threw her head back, trying to ride out her come.

Then she was on the floor. Ultur was in front of her. He grabbed her ass and hefted her up. Pinter laughed as he mounted her, and she wrapped her legs around him as he thrust into her. "Oh, son of a bitch," Pinter said nearly out of breath. "This is too much!"

Pinter was completely into it now. She took Ultur around the neck. He moved her up and down on his own, both his hands grabbing her ass that was tiny by comparison, and Pinter smiled as she cried out to the ceiling. She bounced in his hands. His cock drove into her, wide and powerful, and she wanted it. She could do this all day. Pinter felt another orgasm about to explode, and she let go of his neck. She threw herself backwards, arms wide open like she were flying. She felt like she was in the air, lawless, boundless. Pinter filled with expectation as she realized Ultur hadn't come yet. There was more to go.

With that, she was on her back, her legs in Ultur's hands pushed above her head. Ultur fucked her on the floor as Pinter lay there completely motionless, completely at his mercy, a prisoner to his desire and her own. Ultur nailed her, and she looked up into his face for the first time. He wasn't even close yet. He was just working, like this were nothing. Pinter exploded once more, and as she came down she found her senses for a moment. She was running out of time. The other Orcs would be back soon, and she had to get out of here. She had to find Mandala and warn the others.

Ultur grabbed her waist and pulled her back with him. She straddled him best she could, but Ultur held her up. He clutched her in the air, and he thrust upward with rapid movements, slapping into her crotch over and over. Pinter moaned loudly, her voice shaking with his thrusts, wanting the next orgasm like a child throwing a temper tantrum, but she forced her eyes open. She scanned the floor, and she saw it. Right next to him. The knife.

Pinter pushed back. She worked her hips just enough, and she saw the first bit of strain on his forehead, a single line that stretched across Ultur's brow. She had him. She felt anther orgasm coming on, and she pushed it away. She had to concentrate on this. She had to make him come. She had to last. Pinter's pussy was on fire for more, begging her to let go, but Pinter breathed in concentration. She strained, but she saw the same strain on Ultur. She grit her teeth. He grit his in return. Ultur held her waist tighter, and there it was. The first disrupted thrust. And another. This was it. Pinter let go finally, her core burning all the way up to her chest. Her stomach fluttered, and she called out again as another orgasm overtook her, but this time Ultur closed his eyes tight, grunted, and pushed his head back. He pulled Pinter off of him and laid her on his chest, and she felt his erection pressed against her ass. She felt him pulsate, and he burst.

Hot cum splashed all over Pinter's ass and the small of her back. She laid on Ultur, feeling the young Orc's heart beating through his climax, through his ripped chest. Pinter lay there as they both calmed. When he was done, she kissed his chin. "That was something else," Pinter said.

"You got me," Ultur said. "Even the best women here can't make me finish."

"I'm not from here," Pinter said.

"Maybe I can convince them to keep you alive," Ultur said. "I can think of a few better things for you to do than be snake food."

Pinter laughed and stroked his bushy sideburns. "Where's my stuff?"

"By the wolf pen."

"Thank you," Pinter said, and she rammed the long knife straight up and through Ultur's chin.

The Orc's eyes went wide with shock. His limbs went rigid as the blade pierced his brain. Pinter held it there, and she pulled it out. Ultur went limp. He was dead. "Fucker."

Pinter cleaned herself up with Ultur's clothes, wiping her back, her face, her crotch. She found her panties, and she crept outside into the bright Nagrand day.

A gulch ran through the Mok'Gul camp, between the row of huts that Pinter found herself in. The gulch was like a second road beneath the wooden bridge that ran the entire length of the camp. Pinter looked left and right. She ducked beneath the hut's porch, and she saw stable posts a little up the way, not too far. Pinter moved fast from shadow to shadow. She heard wolves growling quietly, and she saw a hefty chest beneath a tall totem. Pinter dashed to the chest, broke the lock with a stone, and pulled out her gear. She didn't see her bow anywhere, so she would have to make do.

Pinter dressed quickly in the shadows. She was tying up her bracers, fully dressed, when she heard a snarl. She looked behind her, right into the eyes of a giant wolf. Thankfully it was on the other side of the fence. "Easy, buddy," Pinter said. "I won't hurt you, just as long as you don't hurt me."

"But I might hurt you," an Orc voice said.

Pinter whirled around, ramming Ultur's knife straight into the gut of a towering Orc. She pulled it out and threw him aside, and she saw a second Orc running away, running to a long wooden chime that hanged from a nearby hut. "Sound the alarm," the dying Orc said.

"This is going to be fun," Pinter said to herself, and she raced to catch the running Orc.

* * *

Mandala's battle with the Everbloom druids had not been going on for hours. It only seems that way because we had to build dramatic tension.

After she threw her shield into the middle druid, Mandala lifted her hand in the air, sparking a flash of light that turned into a radiant hammer. She threw the hammer in the ground at her feet where it sparked in every direction. Energy flowed through her legs, revitalizing her, strengthening her, and she saw the adverse effect written all over the druids' faces as the holy force she had summoned shocked them like electricity. Mandala took their stunned moment and swung her sword into the nearest druid, not penetrating his hide of vines but knocking him flat on his back. The other two druids recovered and moved their hands, conjuring spells. Mandala tossed her shield again, ricocheting it between the two, interrupting their casting. She swung her sword into one druid's head, doubling him over in a daze. She swung back again into the other's shoulder. She was about to attempt a killing strike and decapitate the first druid, but then a vine wrapped around Mandala's foot, yanking her down, tossing her twenty yards away.

Mandala rolled to her knees and shook her head to clear the cobwebs. She cursed herself aloud in Draenei for being so clumsy and not interrupting the earth spell. Now she was back to square one with the three druids regrouping away from her hammer of light, and it still had a minute to cool down before she could cast it again.

Mandala closed her eyes. Light erupted around her in a bubble. This was going to be a regular barroom brawl, and the shield barrier would absorb a little bit of their attacks. She spat at the ground, smiting the earth with a glowing web of cinders. "Come at me, daz ashjraka ," Mandala said, insulting the martial status of their parents.

Fighting in close quarters made it difficult for the druids to find the time to cast more spells. Whenever Mandala heard the hum of conjuring magic she threw her shield at the source, knocking him back behind a wall of fading incandescence. All Mandala had to do was close her eyes to recreate the bubble of light that surrounded her, and for the most part the swinging vines that the druids summoned flecked harmlessly away. A few of them made it through, though, mostly tapping away like paper balls against her plate armor, but one of the vines lashed Mandala's exposed midriff. She grunted as it smarted, and she hacked the vine in half. Mandala rammed her axe shield into the druid's gut. A brown cloud of dust burst with sappy, evergreen scent, and the druid staggered away, clutching the wound.

Mandala didn't think. Years of fighting told her when the death blow was there. She ducked a swinging vine, bunched into a crouch, and leapt at the prone druid in a three-hundred-and-sixty degree spin, her sword out and deadly.

The long, wide blade ripped through the leaves around the druid's neck, and with another brown dust cloud his head popped a foot in the air, plopping in the grass at his feet. Mandala knocked down the now useless body with a kick square in the chest, and she turned, throwing out her hand in a defiant "stop" signal.

One of the druids growled in frustration as his spell vanished in his hands. He lowered his head and charged Mandala, but she was ready. Mandala jumped effortlessly over the attack, flipping over once in the air, spinning around, landing perfectly behind him, and she plucked his legs from under him with a flick of her sword. The druid tumbled face-first in the grass, and she was on his back, the forward blade of her axe shield planted firmly in whatever spine the druid had. His arms and legs curled up and out as his nervous system failed, and Mandala pulled out her shield, finishing him with a hard crack of her sword hilt straight down on the top of his head. The skull gave way, and the druid went motionless and dead. Mandala jumped up and turned around.

Empty grassland greeted her. The last druid wasn't gone. Mandala could smell him, that sappy evergreen scent. She closed her eyes to renew the bubble, but then the ground beneath her swelled with vines. Mandala tried to jump away, but it was too late. The vines wrapped around her legs, up her waist, around her arms. She dropped her sword and shield as they lifted her ten feet in the air.

"Too slow, Draenei," the lead druid said as he held his hands out, his spell firmly in place. He twisted his hands. The vines squeezed tighter on Mandala, and she cried in pain. "Quite the fight, I'll admit," the druid said. "But the Everbloom will overtake you all."

As Mandala hanged there suspended she felt the vines working on her armor like sentient things. They undid her clasps, untied her, pulled away her breastplate and leggings. Mandala tried to fight, but she couldn't move as her garments came off one by one. She hanged there suspended in just her boots and spaulders.

"Settle down, young one," the druid said, working his hands. "This will be over soon."

Mandala wondered what the druid wanted, and then the vines wrapped around her exposed purple skin. Her vision slowly went green with a haze that crept in from her periphery. They were poisoning her. They had needed more access to her body, and so the druid had undressed her. Now whatever venom he had in store could take effect.

And it did. Suddenly Mandala's crotch ached. How could there be so many vines holding her and none of them were running up her pussy and or slithering up her ass? Her skin burned with rising, insatiate desire, and tears welled in her eyes. She needed the vines inside her. She wanted to be violated like a toy. "Please!" Mandala called out. "Oh, by the Light, fuck me!"

The druid sneered, and Mandala understood. This was torture. He would destroy her mind with arousal, bring her to the brink of pleasure but never let her cross, and she would go mad before he finally ended her. Mandala couldn't move her hands to interrupt the effect. She was encased in this prison of vines, but just the feel of them drove her insane. She had to come. She had to get off, right now. If she didn't her brain would turn to mush, and that would be the end. The druid would probably bury her under a tree in the Everbloom or feed her to one of the mandrake hydras. But she couldn't move. Green haze danced in her vision, and her mind went blank except for her desire, her itching need to come, and she cried real tears for it like a departed love one. She couldn't even cry for her rapidly approaching end.

Somewhere in the haze Mandala heard the growl of a wildcat. The druid called out in shock, and then the encasing vines withdrew into the earth. Mandala fell in a heap, writhing on her stomach in her newfound freedom, and she put both hands in her crotch, rubbing her clit vigorously, rocking against her hands as she saw Pinter's face. Mandala finally exploded in her orgasm, her pleasure bursting throughout her body like a popping balloon. The dirt muffled her pleasured screams as her hot fluids poured all over her fingers. She brought them to her mouth and licked them clean, loving the salty sweet taste of her insides, and when she was done she sat upright.

Mandala threw her arms to the sky with a cleansing spell. Her vision cleared. Finally free, she was able to rid herself of the druid's poison, negating the effect. Pressure welled in Mandala's chest. She coughed a cloud of green gas, exhaling long and drawn out as every ounce of the poison escaped her system. When it was done, she collapsed on her hands, the weight of her spaulders anchoring her with no other plate on her body to offset it. Mandala was cured. She looked to see who had saved her.

It was a Saberon, attacking the druid, ripping away chunks of green and brown, throwing them willy-nilly as the druid fought back vainly. Soon the druid went still, but the Saberon kept attacking. Mandala sat back, watching the fight, not particularly rushing to end whatever misery the druid found himself in now. It would be over soon, and it was better than he deserved.

Finally the Saberon stopped. He crouched over his deceased prey, panting heavily, and he looked back at Mandala.

She gasped in surprise. "Is it you?" Mandala asked.

The Saberon licked his nose, and she knew him. It was him - Pinter's Saberon. Mandala laughed at the impossibility, but she stopped as the Saberon found his feet. "Pinter," he growled.

Mandala picked up her plate leggings. "What are we waiting for then?"

* * *

She tackled him a foot short of the wood chime. Pinter crashed heavily on his back, knocking the wind out of them both, but she fought through the pain and drove the knife through the back of the Orc's skull. She looked behind her and spotted another Orc rushing to another wood chime. Pinter dug deep and drove her legs, closing the distance on the slower brute, catching up just in time and tackling him backwards by one of the leather straps on his upper body. The Orc slashed at her face with his fingernails, but Pinter had rolled away. She jumped back and plunged the knife through his sternum, and the Orc gave a loud death moan as he went limp. Pinter pulled on the knife. It was stuck. She tugged harder, but to no avail. Shit.

Two more Orcs ran up. She would have to find a bow. First she would have to get away from these two, but she was useless without a bow. Pinter didn't much care for the idea of an entire township of Orcs hunting her down, but she was wasting time playing keep away with these assholes. She grabbed a rock and broke the latch on the wolf pen. Pinter slapped one of the wolves on the butt, and it took off straight for the two Orcs. Six more wolves followed their leader.

That would buy her a little bit of time. Pinter ran the opposite direction as the commotion of the opened wolf pen unfolded, as the startled cries of the two Orcs turned into screams as the wolves went to work. Pinter rounded a corner and got her bearings. The path forked in two directions to the right, and it continued in a single way to the left. There wasn't long to decide, and so Pinter ran left.

She skidded to a halt when she realized how bad an idea it was. Three Orcs on wolf back greeted her, not alerted to her escape but out on patrol. One of the Orcs pointed at Pinter and growled something she couldn't comprehend. She didn't wait to find out, turning to hightail it back the way she came. She reached the fork as the sound of wolf steps came closer and closer. Pinter ran up the right fork and took the wooden walkway that ran over the ravine. She waited as the wolves drew closer, their barks sending shivers up her spine, the Orcs shouting commands and calling out the alarm. She stopped and turned.

They were right on top of her! Pinter crouched, and at the last moment she jumped over the side of the walkway into the ravine.

The Orcs pulled back on their reins, one of the wolves stumbling, tripping up the other two in a comical crash that Pinter didn't stop to appreciate. She crawled out of the ravine and saw one of the Orcs on the walkway shove away his wolf and fumble with something.