A Sex Slave To Alien Masters (Erotica)

“Torren told me that orc weapons are passed on from parent to child. He said that the old weapons often help the wielder in battle, for they hold in their hands the memory of all the ancestors that have come before them.” Gregory crouched down to look at Wrut eye-to-eye. “I didn’t know your ancestors, but I do know that they would want their memory to help you. They wouldn’t want you to carry something that could get you killed.”

Wrut was quiet for a long moment. Then he walked over to the sack and cleaned the dirt from the hammer before slowly setting it down on the cloth and turning to take up the shield. Without saying a word, he walked back into line and gave Gregory a small nod before looking over the tops of everyone’s heads.

“Thank you.” Gregory gave Wrut a little bow of gratitude before turning to Ulf. “That leaves us.”

He then lifted up the three slender clubs that remained.

“Back home, we call this weapon a baseball bat. It has hit many an honourable home run throughout the decades, and many pretzel-fuelled, drunken crowds have cheered its honour. I figured it’d be the closest thing we could get to a sword. Torren balanced it at the pommel for us. I know it’s a lot slimmer than what you’re used to, but it’s been reinforced like the staves. You get two.” He threw a pair of the improvised weapons through the air. “I’ll use one with my shield.”

Ulf caught the bats out of the air easily enough. His were slightly smaller than Gregory’s, and meant to be used together. The Alpha tested them and swept them through the air one at a time to feel their potential impact.Content bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.

“If we fight with these, we’ll need to change everything.” Ulf calmly observed.

“Exactly.” Gregory agreed with a little nod. He took a step back and looked over them all. “We’re not going to be the strongest ones out there, but you know what? We don’t need to be. We can be the fastest. We can be the smartest. And I know this will work, because ever since I stepped out on that field with you all I’ve known you were the bravest ones out there.”

“I’m not sure that bravery is going to get us very far. Let’s concentrate on the speed and the brains,” Nullik suggested.

“If you don’t think bravery is going to get us anywhere then you don’t know what it is.” Gregory crouched down to pick up his shield before turning back to look at them all. “I’ve seen orcs talk about it. Bravery is about glory in battle. It’s about honour. It leads to victory. I don’t think it’s about any of those things. I don’t think you have to be very brave to win a battle. To take the field, knowing you’re probably going to lose, but to fight on anyway? That’s bravery. You guys all know that when we go back out there, we’re probably not going to win. It doesn’t matter. You still show up. You still train harder than any of the other packs I’ve seen. When we’re out there and the tide turns on us-and let’s face it, we’ve had a lot of tides turn on us-I don’t see anyone running away or giving up. You’re not afraid of loss, you don’t give a crap what the others think of you, and that makes you stronger than them. I can’t promise anything, other than that we’ll show them all something they’ve never seen before, and that it’ll be an honour to fight beside each of you.”

“Huzzah!” Nullik yelled, lofting his stave victoriously into the air.

Everyone slowly turned to look at him.

“Not a huzzah moment? Really?” He looked sheepishly around for support. “Come on, guys. We don’t get a lot of huzzah-worthy moments. Let’s enjoy it while it’s still warm.”

Frun grunted, shrugged and lifted his new poleaxe into the air. “Huzzah!”

That got a laugh from Frelki and Ulf. Even Wrut cracked a smile. Then, one by one, they each lifted their new weapons up toward the skies and roared a battle cry.

When they finished, Gregory took a deep breath and looked over to Ulf.

“Ok, enough!” The orc alpha brought them all to silence with those words and a simple gesture. “Let’s get to work.”