Gwennalyn's Sexual Awakening Ch. 10

"So, what is it you would like to speak of?"

It can't hurt to try.

She took a deep breath.

"Father, I would like to stay here for a little while longer."

His immediate answer was a frown.

"Stay here?"

"Yes. I have come to enjoy my time here, and the people here."

"And you wish to stay here?"

"Yes. It could help your relationship with King Victorin to have me here."

His frown did not change.

"Our relationship is fully rebuilt now."

She took another deep breath, wracking her brain for other ways to couch this desire.

"I also think that it would be beneficial for me to be here, to learn about their culture and their societies. Once I marry Lucien, I'll be busy."

Popping out babies and keeping his household.

It was easy to sense her father's mix of confusion and reluctance.

"And you have said recently that I should start acting more like an adult. I went with you on that trip to some of the vassal cities and came here with you because of that."

He nodded, the frown dissipating slightly.

"That's true."

She nodded back.

"But you must consider your marriage. The plans must be made."

And there it is.

His frown was relentless.

"Much of what you say is in fact wise, but again, your wedding remains to be planned."

Of course, Lucien can go away when he wants to. He just writes a letter, I'm actually talking to my father, face-to-face.

"Maybe once you are wed to Lucien, we can arrange for him to spend some time here."

She ignored him, her mind suddenly occupied with the letter that Lucien had written to her father. His sentimental and romantic words, of going on the expedition to 'prove himself to his future wife', had swayed her father.

So maybe if I do the same thing...

Her thoughtfulness was met by his slightly confused expression.

"Father," she began, wringing her hands for extra effect, "I do not think it appropriate for me to plan my wedding without he who I shall wed. Lucien will be away for a while longer, and I would not want to do him such a disservice. I do not think it a good start to our union."

The frown suddenly became a smile, her father clapping his hands together.

"Now I understand! You wish to remain here instead of doing this disservice to Lucien."

She nodded, feeling a bloom of hope at his exuberance.

"How selfless of you, my daughter! You shall make a splendid wife."

She forced a smile.

"You would like to stay here for a while? Until Lucien is finished with the expedition?"

"Yes, father."

He stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"I will talk to King Victorin. You have my blessing, but it ultimately depends on him."

The forced smile became real.

"Thank you, father!"

"Don't thank me yet. We must see what he has to say of the matter."

She laughed, patting him on the arm as they walked back into the hall. Along the way, he continued to marvel at her selflessness and love for Lucien, that she would feel it wrong to plan their wedding without him.

At the table, her father went over to King Victorin, leaning down to talk to him. Keeping an eye on them, she sat down, doing her best to not appear as nervous as she was.

After a moment, the orcish king stood, and followed her father back out into the garden. As her mother had gone over to chat with a few of the knights they had brought with them, Gwennalyn was left alone.

Torturous time passed. She kept her eyes on the doorway into the garden.

Finally, the two reappeared.

Her father came over to the table while King Victorin waited by the threshold.

"What did he say?"

"He would like to speak with you."

Seeing a slight smile on her father's face made her hopeful.

"Would you like me to go with you?"

"No, father, no need."

He nodded, taking a seat again, watching her cross the hall.

King Victorin turned once she reached the threshold, walking back into the garden, to where she had brought her father.

Finally, he stopped, turning to fix her with an inquisitive look.

"Your father told me you wish to stay here for a little while longer."

She nodded.

"If you permit me."

"Why?"

"Well, I have come to enjoy it here, the people, the culture. I think it could be good for me to stay here, to learn more, from you and other orcs. And it could be beneficial for your relationship with my father."

His gaze was inscrutable. Feeling a nervous flutter in her belly, she toyed with the scarf wrapped around her neck.

"Princess, I shall ask you again. Why do you wish to stay here?"

She hesitated.

"I have an impending marriage, and my husband-to-be is away. I do not wish to plan this wedding without him. I would prefer to stay here until he returns from the expedition he is currently involved with."

He shook his head.

"No, princess, that is not the reason either. I would like for you to tell me the truth."

His stoic countenance made her bite her lip nervously.

Can I tell him I don't want to marry Lucien? He might tell father.

"Princess, know that whatever you say here, I will not repeat to your father. Speak, and your words shall stay between us."

Looking up at this intimidating orc, his piercing gaze boring into her, she could not stop the truth from tumbling forth. The expression on his face did not change even as she told him how she did not want to marry Lucien, how planning her own wedding seemed needlessly cruel, how the life after said wedding would only hold boredom. It was terrifying and yet thrilling, sharing such thoughts with someone nearly a stranger. The only two who knew her true feelings on the matter were Lucien, who seemed to have the same reservations, and Deiara, her handmaiden and confidant.

Once her story was finished, she stood there awkwardly, waiting for his response.

"That's the reason?" he asked finally.

"Yes. It's because of my marriage. I wish to postpone it as long as possible."

"This has nothing to do with my sons?"

"...wh...what?"

"My sons did not put you up to this? So that they could keep you here and have you continue to whore for them?"

She gaped, blushing brightly as his gaze kept up its penetrative effect.

"How- how do you know about that?"

"I am the king. There is little I don't know about."

She stammered, suddenly cursing her own whorishness.

"And even if I did not know, I would be able to tell that you and my sons have been fucking for a while now."

"How?" she sputtered out, wracking her brain as to the answer.

"Humans seem to always forget an important part of orcish anatomy. We have much better senses of smell than you. And everybody, even humans, has a specific scent. When I smell my sons on you or you on them, I can easily divine the meaning."

"Uh...please don't tell my father."

"Don't worry, princess. We orcs are good at keeping secrets. To be honest, the only reason I did not stop it myself was because it did not seem that they were forcing you. Am I correct in that assessment?"

She nodded.

"Except for when they first met me. They raped me then, although I quickly came to want it."

"When was this?"

"It was some time before your last visit to Crownhold. I was on the road, disguised as a man."

He growled in annoyance.

"Leave it to them to waylay a princess."

His gaze shifted then, losing its penetrative quality, becoming softer, more relaxed.

"You can stay under one condition."

"What's that?"

"Keep away from my sons."

She hesitated, biting her lip.

"It...it would be difficult."

"Why?"

"Because...they have a certain hold on me."

"They do? You enjoy how they treat you?"

She nodded, blushing.

"I can't understand why. They're cruel and careless."

She nodded again.

"I sometimes don't mind that."

He chuckled, shaking his head in bemusement.

"I doubt you will have trouble finding orcs who would love to treat you the same way."

"True. But they would be persistent. I would try my best, but any promise I make now would likely be broken."

He sighed.

"Then leave them to me. You can stay."

"Thank you," she said, curtsying gratefully.

"Come with me," he told her, heading back towards the hall.

At the threshold, he got the attention of the brothers' attendant, who was again chatting with Deiara.

"Fetch King Freirick and my sons."

One quick nod later, and the attendant went over to the table. Brand and Brash had returned there during her conversation with their father. Hers was currently talking to them, their faces showing barely veiled disinterest. After some quick words, the attendant brought the three over, her father looking expectant, the brothers still disinterested. The quintet walked back into the garden. Once hidden by the hedges, King Victorin turned to his sons.

"The princess has asked to stay here for a while longer."

Their faces broke into knowing smirks.

"I have decided to grant that request. She shall stay here, and learn from me and my people."

Her father nodded, smiling gratefully.

"The princess said so wisely that such a thing might help solidify the new relationship between our great kingdoms."

"She is indeed wise," Brash said, his brother's smirk growing wider.

"I feel what would truly set this relationship in stone is for me to reciprocate."

The smirks dimmed slightly.

"So, with your acceptance, King Freirick, I shall send my sons back to Crownhold with you."

"Of course!" her father crowed happily, turning to clap both brothers on the back.

They had no response other than slack-jawed shock.

Gwennalyn did her best to fight back a giggle, and failed miserably.

Her father said something to King Victorin, a conversation starting up between them. It was background noise for her, focused as she was on the brothers, their shock morphing into anger.

Once her father left the garden to return to the hall, they rounded on theirs.

"Why would we go to Crownhold?!" Brash asked.

"We don't give a fuck about the humans," Brand added.

"It is time for you two to understand that you are princes and must act like it."

"We're not next in line, remember? Why should we pretend to care about the Free Lands?"

"You represent my kingdom as my sons. That is enough of a reason."

Brand turned to Gwennalyn.

"Did you put him up to this?"

She shook her head, giggling again.

"No, but it is fun to watch."

Brash moved quickly, looming over her before she had a chance to step back.

"Have care what you do," his father warned.

"Don't worry, father," he spat, "I simply wish to question the whore."

"I'm a princess," she scolded playfully, "and I shall be spoken to like one."

"You're a whore," Brand growled from behind his brother.

"That is all you are good for," Brash added spitefully, his hand moving up to caress at her scarf.

"You say that as if it's a bad thing," she murmured, feeling a heat spring up all over as Brand joined his brother in front of her.

The duo was angry, teeth bared, fists clenched. Her wanton mind imagined them taking out such rage on her, pounding brutally into her holes, forcing agonized screams from her.

"You will miss us," Brash warned her.

"No one can fuck you like we do," Brand added.

Brash closed his hand around her throat. A pitiful whimper eked past her lips, her cunt twitching.

"I am sure she will find other orcs to scratch that itch," their father said dismissively.

The princess squirmed, her hands straying unconsciously to Brash's chest, feeling the familiar muscles there underneath his tunic. Even with their father standing there, the heat began to spread quickly.

"Don't forget that you belong to us," Brash told her, squeezing hard to emphasize his point.

Another whimper spilled out from her.

Their father chuckled.

"You must really be a special creature to enjoy what they do to you."

Brash took his hand away, a disappointed whine her response.

Without another word, the brothers left her with King Victorin, trudging back into the hall.

She stood there for a few moments, sucking down deep breaths, shaking her head to clear the amorous haze.

"Your handmaiden can stay as well," the orcish king said.

"Thank you," she managed to sputter.

He nodded, and walked back towards the hall, leaving her alone.

Once the cobwebs were cleared from her mind, the realization struck her that she had succeeded in her ramshackle plan.

Deiara was waiting expectantly just inside the hall.

"What happened? The brothers came in in a huff."

"They're letting me stay. But the brothers are going to Crownhold in exchange."

"What? How did you pull that off?"

Gwennalyn giggled, suddenly pulling her handmaiden into a hug.

"You'll be staying here too," she added, giggling again at the resultant purr from Deiara.

The princess returned to the table in a happier mood. Brand and Brash had left again, and now her parents were chatting again with King Victorin.

During the conversation that had just taken place, the servants had brought out pastries.

She reached out to take one off the plate, feeling freer than she had in a long time.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The sun was setting, gold, orange, and red streaking through the sky above the castle.

Gwennalyn walked along, following an attendant to the king's personal dining chamber.

After the late morning feast had finished, her father and King Victorin had retired to the latter's chambers to have one last discussion. An invitation had been extended to Gwennalyn and her mother, to have mid-day tea with the king's three courtesans. Her mother had been offended, interpreting such a set-up as equating her status with theirs.

"I am the queen, not some bedwarmer. I advise the king, and have responsibilities of my own."

The annoyed murmurs had continued until the courtesans had shown up, after which point only perfect politeness was directed their way. Gwennalyn had enjoyed the time spent with Mazin, Neya, and Irris, their conversations sprinkled with innuendo that her mother of course failed to pick up on.

After the tea came the farewell at the docks. It had cost her a lot of restraint to not seem so happy as her parents waved to her while boarding the ship.

While watching the Cerulean depart, King Victorin had invited her to dinner in his private dining chambers. Given time between the farewell and said dinner, the princess had spent it in her new lodgings, her clothes and other belongings moved there by Deiara and a few servants during the tea with the courtesans. Her new lodgings were larger, with a cozy sitting room leading off into a larger room on the right and a smaller room, ostensibly for the handmaiden, on the left. Neither woman expected that room to be used much.

The attendant brought her to the doorway of the dining chamber, and opened it for her.

"Greetings, King Victorin," she chirped, curtsying.

He nodded back.

"How has your afternoon been, princess?"

She smiled, thinking back to the time spent alternating between reading and having unhurried sex with Deiara.

"Wonderful, thank you for asking."

They sat at the table, and in minutes the meal was served.

Gwennalyn had quickly learned that for orcs, meals were first for eating, and afterwards for talking. Although her parents had found it difficult to adhere to such a practice, the princess, tired of the incessant chattering rampant at their feasts, had taken to the orcish attitude.

The two ate in silence, save for a few words here and there. Crispy duck, roasted potatoes, buttered green sprouts, slices of flaky and delicious meat pie, followed by a dessert of honeyed pears and succulent peaches.

After the final dishes were removed from the table, the conversation began.

"I wanted to discuss your schedule with you," the king began.

"My schedule?"

"I hope you did not think you would spend all of your time here fucking orcs."

She blushed, shaking her head.

"I did not think such a thing."

"Good. You said you thought it could be beneficial for you to learn about our culture, and I shall take it upon myself to teach you."

"I said it, and I meant it. Orcish culture and way of life interests me."

"You find us a novelty?"

"Heavens no. I simply find your way of life appealing. Your people are more direct and not as obsessed with politeness."

"That is the stereotype. We are uncouth and rude."

She stammered, taking a moment to choose her words, lest she offend him further.

"I do not mean any offense with my musings. All I mean is that the obsequiousness of Crownhold bores and frustrates me sometimes. Here it seems to be different."

The king stared at her for a long second.

"Relax, princess," he finally said, "I take no offense. We can be interesting to outsiders."

She nodded, relieved.

"As I said, I shall take it upon myself to show you parts of our culture. I will not have you by my side all day, because it would not do to show an outsider everything, but I shall expect that you spend part of the day learning from me and my advisors. A few hours or so each day."

"That sounds very reasonable."

"The rest of the day can be spent however you like. The castle, and the city, are both yours to explore."

"Thank you, good king."

He levelled a more serious gaze at her.

"I assume that high on your list of priorities is finding replacements for my sons."

Another blush bloomed on her cheeks.

"Yes, I have thought about that. Is such a thing bothersome for you?"

He shook his head.

"No. As long as your dalliances do not affect my kingdom in any direct way, I don't care."

"And are any orcs off-limits?"

He chuckled softly.

"No, princess, no orc is off-limits."

"What about Sir Hathwell?"

"What about him?"

"Well, I know that orcs are good at keeping secrets, but if he were to find out about my urges regarding orcs, he would immediately inform my father."

A smile curled the edges of the king's lips.

"Sir Hathwell will see what we let him see. Provided you do not become too careless, he will not be an issue."

She breathed an audible sigh of relief.

"Thank you again for allowing me to remain here."

He gestured dismissively.

"You're welcome. I hope you enjoy yourself."

She smiled, struck then by a thought.

No orc is off-limits...

"I know that I shall enjoy myself," she purred, standing smoothly.

The king stared as she walked around the table, coming over to in front of his chair.

His face was impassive as she climbed into his lap.

"I wish to show you that my being here will also be enjoyable for you as well."

Her hand slid down between them, quickly finding his belt.

"Princess," he said warningly.

"Hmm?" she asked absentmindedly, working at his belt.

"Stop."

Confused, she glanced up at him, his expression still impassive.

"You said no orc is off-limits."

"That does not include myself."

Still confused, and now curious, she leaned back in his lap.

"Why not? My father won't find out."

"Of course not. But as he and I have recently rebuilt our relationship, I feel it would be a disservice to him to then fuck his daughter."

His hands settled on her hips, and he gently eased her off his lap.

"You're the only other orc besides your sons to reject me," she said, the confusion and curiosity joined by a strange feeling of offense.

"I do not mean to manipulate as they likely did. Do not take it personally."

"Surely one fuck won't ruin your relationship with my father."