Aylee vs The Poundflesh Clan
I never get to do these kinds of fun bondage images any more, so I was pleased to take this on for Aylee in this kinky pin-up! Hope you like how it turned out folks. Sorry for the quiet first half of the month, been busy with IRL stuff so I haven’t got as much time to work on art as I’d have liked. Don’t worry though, more coming real soon!
Commissioned by: Aylee
Aylee peered around at the gathered crowd, exhausted and aching all over, as they made a spectacle of her capture. She had spent the last three days in the warrior’s barracks by command of Warlord Mar’gur. The beginning of her punishment for her crimes against the Poundflesh Clan as a spy for the Kul Tirans.
The barracks housed the meanest, toughest and most well-endowed of Mar’gur’s all woman war band. In three days she had been taken by all fifty of those brutes many times over, and it had been personal. Aylee had committed several acts of sabotage around the fortress, injured and even killed a couple of the Orc guards while evading capture for over a week before she was finally apprehended. The warriors took great pleasure in humiliating and using Aylee as a sleeve for their needs. Yet not a single one of them did anything beyond anal and oral sex, it was clear to Aylee that they were saving her pussy for some reason.
It was like a different world inside these walls. Orcs stood in the crowd looking up at Aylee, their taken human wives at their side. Many of the human wives looking happy to be there, and more than a few were heavy with child as they stood loyally at their Orc’s side. She watched as one Orc held her human wife’s hand affectionately as she cuddled her arm around her to watch the twisted spectacle. Aylee couldn’t believe it, nobody outside had any idea what was happening in here, that their countrymen were happy to be with these savages. It defied all reason.
“This human stands charged with cowardly acts of espionage, sabotage and the dishonourable taking of the lives of our sisters. Striking from the shadows and seeking to destroy our well-earned way of life here in these lands.” Warlord Mar’gur announced as she drew the attention of the crowd, continuing.
“And so we shall mount this spy on the southern wall, so that the allies who sent her here can see what fate awaits their honorless curs who stand against the Poundflesh Clan!” Mar’gur roared loudly to the cheers of the crowd.
With a wave of the Warlord’s hand, Aylee and the post she was bound to were hoisted up the southern wall. A thirty-foot wall that pointed directly towards Fort Daelin to the south. Aylee wriggled and writhed about as she realized that her own people could look out from the ramparts of Fort Daelin and see her laid bare and displayed like a trophy of the Poundflesh Clan atop the wall. The ropes on each of her limbs were too well knotted and too firmly tightened to slip free of. Even if she did manage to get free, she’d fall those thirty feet and seriously injure herself – perhaps fatally.
Mar’gur was approached by her most loyal ally in the clan, her second in command, referred only to as “The Fist”. A rugged veteran Orc like Mar’gur herself, she sported an eyepatch and her body was a tapestry of fights old and recent, with many scars and burns.
“My Warlord.” Fist said respectfully as she pounded her fist against her chest in a formal greeting. “How long would you have us leave the spy on the wall?” she inquired.
Mar’gur returned the chest pounding gesture, nodding. “Three days should do. Ensure she’s fed and quenched of thirst while she’s up there.” The Warlord commanded.
“Of course, Warlord. And after the three days?” Fist inquired again. “A small minority of the sisters who keenly feel the loss of the ones she killed wished for her head. I have quelled such talk, though.” The veteran Orc nodded as she confided in her warlord.
“Good, we do not use such brutal methods. Least of all in the presence of our human wives.” Mar’gur nodded firmly. “Take her as one of your wives, Fist. I know you won’t mistreat her and the sisters won’t dare seek to either, if she’s yours.” Mar’gur commanded, patting Fist on the shoulder firmly. “Breed her well. Make her heavy with child.”
“It will be done, my Warlord.” Fist said firmly and with all the assurance of a second in command. An exchange of nods as she set off to her tasks.
Aylee could feel those distant eyes from Fort Daelin upon her as the gentle breeze kissed her skin. When night fell, she could see the torches on the fort’s walls moving around and the gentle glint of spyglasses on the ramparts catching the moonlight. They were looking at her body, shamefully displayed. The Orcs had put up torches of their own to illuminate Aylee so that they could still see her in the dark of night.
A blush settled on Aylee’s cheeks, and a gentle trickle of her excitable juices trickled down her thigh.
So shameless. To be turned on by such a thing.
