A Sex Slave To Alien Masters (Erotica)

“Thanks, Jan.”

She yawned again and waved her acceptance of his thanks before walking along out of the camp towards the proving grounds.

Gregory lifted up one of the products of their productive evening, looked it over, and grinned.

* * * * *

The Runts had been persuaded by Janette to break away from their daily training with varying degrees of reluctance. Nullik was overjoyed that he wasn’t going to get the tar beaten out of him for a change and Frelki was also somewhat relieved by the summons. Frun and Wrut were both quietly curious about the change of plans. Ulla and Ulf had taken the most convincing. Ulla didn’t like to be summoned anywhere and Ulf thought that their place was on the proving grounds. He was quite the dutiful type.

Janette managed to convince them all that it would probably be worth their while, and Gregory had earned some respect amongst the group as he was often one of the last to go down in the pits despite his unfortunate lack of tusks.

When he emerged onto the open glade in the jungle and saw the pack standing around, he decided to start as he meant to go on.Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

“Alright you lot! Form a line!” he bellowed.

The sudden commanding tone got all the runts forming a single line before they realised that neither Ulf nor Ulag had ordered it. Ulf himself only seemed to realise that he’d been thus commanded a few seconds after standing at the head of the line and straightening up for inspection.

Everyone of them except Ulla, who turned to Gregory as if he’d just openly challenged her.

“We answer to Ulf. Not you,” she growled.

“Gregory, it is not your place to-” Ulf began in a more diplomatic tone.

“I don’t give a shit!” Gregory quickly put down both arguments whilst setting his shoulders and calmly holding his arms behind his back. “I don’t know if any of you have noticed, but what we’re doing right now is not working. It’s not a matter of practicing. It’s not a matter of trying harder. We are simply not built for this kind of battle.”

“You would say this to us? After we accepted you?” Ulf might have been reasonable as far as orcs went, but Gregory’s words certainly seemed to bring out his primal side.

Good.

“It’s not frustrated criticism, alpha. It is cold, hard fact. Do you want to know what I see when we take the field?” He turned to Frun and addressed the stout young orc directly. “I see a slow, unimaginative warrior who follows his elder and his alpha expecting them to pave the way.” As Frun bared his teeth at the human, Gregory wasted no time in continuing on to the massive form of Wrut. “And you, with all your experience you should be the most dangerous of all of us out there on the field. I don’t know what the hell happened to you that you’ve been cast back into the provings and I don’t give a damn. Right now you’re a liability. You can’t wield a two handed weapon with one arm. So, I’d suggest you learn how to grow a fucking arm before dawn tomorrow or you start to use the one you’ve got left a whole lot better.”

He could see the look of bloody murder he’d brought into Wrut’s gaze, but he paid the old orc no heed and casually dismissed him to move on between Frelki and Nullik.

“Then there’s you two. Did it ever occur to you that getting into a close-up grappling match with an opponent twice your size might be a stupid idea? I’m just suggesting it because you both charge right at the other orcs like you think they’re made of feathers rather than muscle and bone.”

“We do as we are commanded!” Nullik stepped forwards and Gregory rudely shoved him back into line the moment he saw the orc was off his balance.

“And that brings us to the last, and why we are here tod-” Gregory was quickly interrupted by Ulla’s fist swinging over his head.

It was going to connect with his jaw, but the human had long been keeping the unstable female orc in his peripheral vision and saw the attack coming. She predictably put too much power into the lunge and he wasted no time in slamming his shoulder into her belly to crush the air from her lungs before uprooting her completely. He lifted her into the air and cast her over his shoulder without a second thought to land with a heavy thud on the dirt at his feet. Without a moment’s hesitation, he jammed his boot on her throat to make damn sure she couldn’t get back up again.

“Yeah, I didn’t forget about you.” He said as he looked down upon her. “You’re the worst of all of us, Ulla. The provings aren’t about fighting on your own. They’re about fighting together. I might be challenging Ulf today, but I’d never ignore him. I don’t know who made you so damn pissed off all the time, but you lose control way too easy. We always start with one of our pack down because of you. Now you just tried to strike me like a damn coward because you couldn’t hold it in. So get up, get in line, or get the hell out of here.” He lifted his boot and stepped back from the struggling orc. She quickly hoisted herself up and looked for support amongst her pack mates.

Orcs might have been a harsh people, but they prized honour above all things. Attacking a single opponent without an open challenge would have been considered poor form. Trying to lay into them from behind would probably have gotten Ulla a beating if she’d done it in public. As it was, the shock of her actions had taken quite a bit of the outrage from the others, and instead they just stood and watched her in silence.

She stood up and looked between them all, and finally to Ulf who made no move to intercede on her behalf. Then she turned and fled into the jungle, back towards the camp.

Gregory watched her go, then turned back to Ulf and gestured to the pack before them.

“This isn’t working.” The words came out steady and solid.

“What would you have us do? Flee to the human lands?” Ulf wasn’t angry any longer, he was desperate.

“Fuck no.” Gregory turned towards the jungle and nodded towards the foliage.

At his signal, Torren emerged with Talina and Algra. The big smith carried a large, heavy sack over his shoulder and brought it up to Gregory. With a quiet gesture of his master’s hand, Torren spilled the contents of the sack on the ground before the Runts. The pack looked over the items, somewhat baffled.

“If we can’t win on their terms, then we change the way the battle is fought. Nullik and Frelki? Step forward.”

Curiosity outweighed anger for the two orcs, who took a step forwards to get a closer look at the items on display. Gregory reached down and picked up two long wooden staffs.

“These are called quarterstaves.” He cast them through the air and each orc snagged one to look over. “They’re your new weapons.”

Nullik actually laughed at that and grabbed the staff at one end before giving the long weapon a playful twirl. “This? You complain that we pick opponents too big for us and then give us a weapon that would snap in half on the first parry?”

“Ok, first off, it’s not designed to be used like a club. It’s light, balanced and very effective in keeping enemies at a distance. It can also be used for more precise attacks. The point isn’t to charge in with it, it’s to . . .” Gregory shook his head and opened his hand to take the staff back. “Let me show you. Pick up the club and attack.”