Orc Dominion: Triumph Ch. 09

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The Princess-Knight falls further under the orc's spell.
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Part 60 of the 71 part series

Updated 01/20/2023
Created 01/31/2014
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Author's Note: Here's Chapter 9, and I hope you enjoy it. Please leave a comment or send feedback through Literotica. I love hearing from you! I'm particularly interested in learning how you think Triumph stands against the others. Zentara and Rebellion seem to be rated higher than Elfin Descent and Triumph, even though I would probably put Triumph ahead of them. Though to be fair, Triumph is a much different story than Zentara, which was more focused on porn than plot. Let me know what you think!

Thanks again to all my editors and proofreaders, especially at catching some of my stupider mistakes.

****

The crowd roared as the javelin plunged directly into the center of the target. "Princess-Knight! Princess-Knight! Princess-Knight!" The entire stadium was on its feet cheering for her. Sir Andrew Torrence, the Master-At-Arms of Orlous, the capital of Thesta, clapped her on the shoulder and congratulated her.

"Well thrown, Your Highness. 52 paces! That's the best bullseye since your brother competed in a tourney."

"Thank you, Sir Andrew. But you must share some of the credit. You're the one who taught me how to throw a javelin, after all. My brother too." Amelie smiled up at the older knight, and then turned to face the crowd. She brushed a long lock of brown hair behind her ear and then raised her hand to the crowd in triumph.

The people of Thesta loved her. She was born at the end of a period of tragedy for the Kingdom, and since her birth the realm had enjoyed peace and prosperity. When she earned her knighthood last year the whole city took up a collection to buy her arms and horse, despite the fact that she could easily afford it on her own; they all wanted to be a part of her triumph.

The title of "Princess-Knight" came about quickly and easily. All her life she had striven to be the perfect Princess. She was a master of dance, decorum, and courtly manners. She knew how to weave and bake, and how to manage a household staff. Amelie gave alms to the poor, even more than what was normally expected of a Princess. She knew the names and families of her petitioners the same way she knew the names of the soldiers under her command.

But she also knew how to manage an estate and the realms finances. She knew how to wage war; both as a general and as a warrior. As she proved today, she was the finest with a javelin in all Thesta. She knew how to wield a sword, a mace, and how to ride a warhorse. Amelie strove to be the best at everything she did.

It helped that she looked the part of a Princess-Knight. Her lithe, athletic body fit well into a pretty dress and was strong enough to wield a sword and wear armor. She was beautiful, with long brown hair and crystal blue eyes. Her skin was fair, but with good color from hours spent outside in the practice yard. Though her bust was not nearly as large as say, the Queen of Zentara's, it was still large enough to give her an hourglass shaped figure.

Amelie exulted in the pleasure of the crowd, but as she turned towards the royal box her heart fell. Her father wasn't in attendance and hadn't seen her triumph. The smile fell from her face and she quickly departed the stadium before her people noticed.

"Fuck the king if he doesn't care to see your win. You don't need him, Your Highness." Katerei said.

Amelie shot the mercenary a cold look. "Watch your tongue when you speak about the King, Katerei, or you'll find yourself hunting orcs in the Angrian March." The foul-mouthed mercenary had been hired to instruct her in close quarters combat two years past. Amelie reasoned that there was no one better to teach her how to fight against men than another woman. She was crass, but she knew how to fight.

"Apologies, Your Highness. I didn't mean to offend."

Yes you did. "Of course my father wouldn't be here; I just forgot what day it was." It was a shame that the Mayfair tournament fell on this day this year. "Excuse me, Katerei, but I am going to tell my father the good news."

She knew exactly where to find the King. Amelie made her way back to the castle, and then down into the crypts beneath. King Guillaume was exactly where she knew he'd be; at the tomb of her brother, Francis. It had been seventeen years to the day since he died in the Great Sweltering Sickness.

Francis had been everything her father could have hoped for in a Prince and heir. He was smart, strong, and brave, but also kind, wise, and compassionate. The King had never gotten over the loss of his son. "Good evening father." She wrapped an arm around her father and pressed against his side. "He was a great man. Everyone was talking today about the great throw he made to win the tournament all those years ago."

Guillaume didn't turn to look at her. "He was a great Prince. Unmatched in skill at arms. It's a tragedy that he was taken from us so early."

"Yes father, it was." Francis had been born late in the King's life. By the time he passed, the Queen was too old to bear him another child. Under the advice of his ministers, he divorced her, though he loved her dear, and married Amelie's mother. Three years later she was born, somewhat of a disappointment since she wasn't a boy. Through simple bad luck, or perhaps a lack of interest, her mother never bore another child and Amelie became his heir. "I won the javelin toss at the Mayfair Tournament today, father! I threw a bullseye at 52 paces!"

"Your brother threw one at 56 paces." Guillaume turned to look at her. "But 52 paces is good as well." He offered her a weak smile.

"Thank you father. I threw even better than Sir Andrew! I told you that my training was complete. I earned my knighthood, it wasn't given to me because I'm the Princess." She waited a moment. "Please, I promise you father, I can lead our troops in battle. Let me take the Falcon Guard to Zentara. We should support our most important trading partner against Heste. We cannot let the trade from the Elfish Isles fall into Hesten hands."

Guillaume sighed with a mixture of resignation and annoyance. "We've been over this, Amelie. Zentara's problems are not our own. Queen Jeanette should not have taken the Duchy of Braden from Heste after the last war. It destabilized everything. Of course King Connor was going to take it back! What else did she expect?"

"Heste has always been the greatest threat to all the realms. Taking the Duchy of Braden created a buffer between the Zentaran heartland, and our trade routes, while greatly diminishing Heste's ability to field and maintain an army. If it weren't for the rebellion, Connor wouldn't have a chance to defeat Zentara."

"But there is a rebellion. Do you think that it's a coincidence? It's a further example of Queen Jeanette's reckless policies. No, no, Amelie, we are not going to get involved in her wars. I forbid it!"

"It's not about that at all, is it? Queen Jeanette, for all what you may think of her policies, has expanded trade with us through her entire reign. All our people have benefited from our relationship with Zentara. It's not about her, is it? It's about me! You don't trust me to lead our armies. If Francis were still here you'd let him go without a moment's hesitation!" Amelie fought back the tears welling in her eyes.

"Your brother was the finest knight this Kingdom has ever seen! Now that's enough about Zentara. You're staying here and that is all there is to it!"

"Yes Father." Amelie said stiffly, before departing the tomb. One day she'd be as good as Francis was. Then her father would trust her, and would no longer have any doubts about her ability to rule Thesta.

"Amelie, wait!" Her father called out to her.

Her heart lifted as she turned back, but the twisted, deranged look on her father's face made her freeze. She was so surprised that she made no resistance when he grabbed her by the arms and yanked her forward, then spun her around and pushed her against the side of the tomb.

"How many times do you think I am going to put up with this insolence from you? How many times do you think I'm going to let you fail me?" Before she could answer he raised his hand, and then slapped it down sharply on her rear. The loud crack echoed through the crypt, but was quickly followed by another and another. Each time after he smacked her bottom his hand squeezed her rear, groping the flesh lewdly.

"Ah! Father! What are you doing?" Amelie cried out as her bottom was struck. Something was wrong though. It wasn't hurting like it should: it was feeling good. Amelie found herself enjoying being spanked and groped by her father!

"You're not my son! You're not Francis!" Guillaume snarled as he gripped the sides of her pants and yanked them down, then resumed spanking her. This time his palm collided with her bare ass in a resounding smack that quickly reddened the pale cheeks.

"Nnng! Ah! Ah!" Amelie squealed out loud as her father's hand smacked her naked backside over and over. "I know father! I know I'm not him! I'll never be him! I'm not good enough!"

"No, you're not! You're a slut! A whore! Aren't you?" The king growled and slapped her bottom one last time, then slid his hands between her legs and pushed two fingers right up her wet slit.

"Oooh! Yesss!" Why am I agreeing with him? "Yes I'm a slut! A whore! A worthless whore!" No I'm not! Amelie moaned louder as she pushed her hips back into her father's fingers, making them slide deep inside her.

"I should have known you wouldn't be a virgin! You deserve this! Every inch of this!" Suddenly his cock was deep inside her, and he was thrusting madly inside his daughter. "This is what you're good for! Not fighting, and certainly not ruling. But fucking! You're a whore!"

"Mmm! Ah! Fuck me father! Fuck me like a whore! Fuck me hard and breed a real heir from me!" Pleasure began to mount inside her, welling up and building to a crescendo before Amelie snapped awake with a cry.

Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, and despite the depravity of the dream she groaned in frustration at being left unsatisfied. It had been happening more and more frequently; despite the lewd dreams she wasn't getting any satisfaction, just more and more aroused. The dream was an old one, though it had never ended quite like that before. She ran her hands down over her chest, moaning softly as her fingers brushed over her hard nipples.

No, no time for that. Amelie brushed her brown hair back, tied it into a ponytail and swung off her cot. There is too much work to be done. She picked up Drauken's letter again and reread it what must have been the hundredth time searching for some previously missed detail. The orc's letter was vague, but some salient points were clear. The remnants of Agmar's army would be reinforcing Grotok and Augras, and together they were going to invade Thesta before the start of the campaign season.

It also told her that they would not be bringing their baggage train with them, but foraging and living off the land. Beyond that though, there were no details. The whole plan was being kept secret, so she had no idea what their target was or what their exact timetable was going to be.

"Well, clearly they plan on using Augras' magic to grow crops and feed themselves." She said to herself as her hand drifted between her legs and idly stroked her clit. "That means they'll want to leave the mountains and head into the farmlands." She looked over the map again as she mused, "Orlous is the obvious target, but they'll have to get past the Sandoran army first. They'll also want to draw us out, but not get caught between us." Her breath quickened as she pressed her finger harder against her little button and rubbed faster.

"The Duke of Lisene is going to move to attack them quickly." She traced a line with her free hand from the Sanrodan army marker to Hell Pass where the orcs would march through. Then she traced a line from the Pass in the direction of Orlous. The only landmark of any significance in the vicinity of both paths was the town of Benodetienne. "That's where they'll meet. Grotok will want to get their food stores and sack the town, Lisene will want to be the hero who stops them." If the General could get there first then the orcs would be trapped between them. We'll have to move quickly though, and stay right on their tail.

With a sigh she set the letter aside and picked up the one from her. Amelie suppressed a shiver of pleasure as she read it again.

Mother,

I hope things are going well with the Falcon Guard and you're staying safe, well, as safe as you can be during war. I'm sorry I can't be there with you, but we both know that I wasn't born to be a warrior. Still, you'd be proud of the progress we've made in Orlous. The expansion and reinforcement of the walls has been completed and we've laid in enough food stores to last two years of siege if it comes to it. The guard has also been replenished, and we have more than enough soldiers to man the walls and defend the city. Are you sure you wouldn't rather have them on the front lines with the army?

The mood in the city remains positive. So far the war has been far away in Heste and Zentara, and the tales of victory which have come back have only strengthened the faith they have in you. That is why you need to be safe, Mother. The people believe in you, and your invincibility. Were you to fall, our people would fall. I trust you mother, but you're not a young woman anymore. Be careful! We need you, I need you.

With love and devotion,

Anna

Amelie rapidly blinked her eyes to fight away the mist building in them. Somehow she doubted that Jeanette got many letters like this from her children. But she couldn't afford to be careful. Everything was on the line now, and this war would determine the fate of the entire Western Kingdoms. True, fatigue had been hitting harder than when she was younger, but she wasn't in her dotage yet. It was lucky the war broke now and not ten years from now!

Amelie rolled up the letter and was about to put it aside when she noticed the damp stain on it. I didn't think I was crying... Then she noticed the wetness on her fingers, and the smell of sex in her tent and realized what she'd been doing. Ugh, what's wrong with me? I was touching myself the whole time? Without even knowing I was doing it? These dreams need to stop, one way or another I need to get some sexual release, just to keep my head on straight!

But there would be time for that later. For now she had to get the camp ready to move at a moment's notice. Besides, I haven't been able to climax on my own any other time this past week, and what other options do I have?

****

Dew glistened on the grass as Augras stepped out of his tent with Marishka. It was the first time in months that the land wasn't frosted in the morning. The air was brisk, but not biting as it had been. "You're sure it will be here today?" Augras asked for what might have been the hundredth time.

"Oh yes, the darkness arrives today. You did well in your choice." Marishka turned south and pointed into the distance. Here it comes now."

Augras turned, and in spite of himself almost expected to see darkness creeping over the land. Marishka's cryptic pronouncements could have that effect on people. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of dust clouds kicked up by the approaching column. "Let's go find my uncle then, he'll want to be here for this."

The pair wandered through the camp, and Augras couldn't help but notice the tense, nervous expressions of the soldiers. Weeks of raids by Amelie's forces had worn them down, and the state of near constant alert had left them frayed. Coupled with the fact that they were stuck in place as they slowly cleared the wreckage of the castles in the Pass, and the soldiers' morale was severely crippled.

People were starting to wonder if they would ever take the offensive again, and if the Princess-Knight could be defeated. Of course she can, and I'll be the one to do it, Augras assured himself. He had a plan, and now finally the weather had turned enough to implement it. As soon as his cousin Bogor arrived, they could finally get underway.

They arrived at Grotok's command tent and went inside. The King was already waiting for them, standing alone over a map of the Western Kingdoms. They had agreed to keep the number of attendees to a minimum to reduce the chances of Amelie discovering their plans. "Good morning, nephew. You're looking chipper this morning: did you spend the night 'rehearsing' your spells with Marishka?"

"Don't be jealous, uncle, it's not everyone who can make magic happen between the sheets. If you'd like, I could give you some lessons; then maybe you'll finally be able to find a Queen. Well, besides Grandmother of course." Augras smiled pleasantly back at Grotok as the older orc scowled.

"How droll. Someone should have taught you to respect your elders; but with a father like yours I understand why you never picked up the habit." Grotok shot back.

"For once we agree, uncle." Before he could continue the repartee the flap to the command tent opened and Bogor strode in, his armor still dusty from the road.

"Good morning, Your Highness" Bogor said, bowing respectfully to Grotok, before turning to Augras, "Good morning to you as well, Prince Augras."

"Welcome to Hell Pass, Bogor," Grotok said, "it is good to have you here. With your help we can finally take the war into Thesta!"

"But first, I think you have something for me?" Augras asked eagerly.

Bogor nodded and pulled a small wooden casket from his pack and handed it to the Prince. "Here you are, Your Highness. As requested."

Augras opened the box and pulled out the jet black ring contained within. "The Eye of the Abyss! I've never actually seen it, until today." Augras looked at Bogor with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Did you look into it?"

"Yes, more than once, to see what the fuss is about. It's just a ring."

"It is more than that," Marishka said, "it is as black as the souls who cling to it."

"Then you don't care to gaze into it?" Grotok asked haughtily.

"I do not need to, for I have already seen its darkest depths. But it will serve."

"Serve what?" Grotok asked suspiciously. "What foul magic do you have planned next?"

"It is time to continue the plan against Amelie, and this stone is the key. I've already begun influencing her dreams; probably why she has not been seen personally in the field as often. But once the next phase is completed, I'll be able to begin binding her directly."

Bogor snorted. "Is this why I was summoned all the way here? To win the war with magic tricks?"

"Magic isn't going to win the war," Grotok declared, before adding, "though it may help us win it. You're here because we need your expertise."

"We're going to abandon our wagons and push through the Pass on foot. My magic will grow us the food we need on the other side. Other than that we'll have to forage. You'll take my Minotaurs and march to the Catabrian Hills from behind, while we check the Sandoran army."

Bogor strode towards the map in the center of the tent and gazed at it thoughtfully. "That will draw the Tribesmen serving with Henry off his army, making it easier for King Belkor. It will also threaten his base with the northern Hesten lords. It's a bold move."

"Amelie won't pursue you," Marishka said before Bogor had a chance to continue, "Augras will see to that. She will chase after us."

"How can you be so sure? If you're wrong, we'll be run down and annihilated."

"Because as much as she might care for the Catabrians, she cares for Thesta more. Besides, I intend to give her all the motivation she needs to chase after us. Trust me, she'll do as we expect." Augras said confidently.