Deepthroat Diplomacy

The dress wasn’t exactly appropriate ambassadorial attire, but no-one had seen her pack it so Kitarai felt she could, on this occasion, get away with it. Unprofessionally bright blue skirts flowed around her freshly moisturised legs as she made her way up the neat stone path towards what her mentor had told her was called the Khezegh. Translated, it apparently meant something like ‘house of debate’—a fact which made a great many of the elves of Al-Sinneas extremely happy. There was nothing they loved more than a good debate.

Kitarai adjusted her low-cut bodice to better display the small, delicate curve of her breasts, then raised a hand to knock. Before her knuckles could make contact with the painted wood, an orc opened the door.

“Ambassador Starflower, I presume?” he asked, grinning rather tuskily down at her. He was tall and broad and wore only dark trousers, held up beneath the fuzzy swell of his stomach by a thick brown belt. Kitarai drew on all her training and managed to both look him in the eye and not squeak as she spoke.

“Yes. Madam Vyel is expecting me.”

“Madam,” the orc repeated, chuckling. “She’ll get a kick out of that. Come on in. We’ve been waiting for you.”

She followed him inside, marvelling at how solid everything was. The hall, lit by lamps of flame instead of starlight, was fashioned from wooden planks and warmed with a long, leaf-patterned rug. How delightfully odd to enter a building and not be able to see several hundred feet down through a crystal walkway before you made it to a room!

Her guide escorted her into a large, high-ceilinged chamber where a half-dozen orcs of similar build and dress sat around a circular table, already engaged in lively discussion. They spoke in the orc tongue, which Kitarai couldn’t understand but which had a pleasant rolling rumble to it—nothing at all like the birdsong cadence of Elvish.

“And here she is,” said a rich, gravelly voice, switching to heavily accented Trade. “Ambassador! How kind of you to come all this way to visit our humble town.”

The town—Kudri—didn’t have any kind of formal government, according to Kitarai’s mentor, but it did have a leader, and that leader was Maazen Vyal, who sat on the far side of the table drinking in Kitarai and her dress with bright hazel eyes filled with amusement and no little hunger. She was by far the largest orc in the room, with breasts one could suffocate in, a broken tusk that gave her smile a stomach-flipping lopsided tilt, and hands large enough that Kitarai’s waist would vanish inside a single palm.

Kitarai cleared her throat. “It’s no trouble at all, Madam Vyal. We’re rather keen to finalise the treaty as expediently as possible, and—”

“Maazen,” interrupted the orc. Kitarai stammered to a halt.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Maazen’s my name, so that’s what you’ll call me. Unless that’s a high offence for an elf?”

“N-no,” Kitarai said. Her hands wanted to twist together—a bad habit she hadn’t yet conquered—so she put them behind her back to make them behave. “Maazen. My apologies. At any rate, if you’ll recall the negotiations my colleague began in Al-Sinneas, we’ve already agreed to—”

“Yes, yes, I was there, as you take so many words to say,” Maazen said, rolling her eyes. “But you’re not here to hash out a trade agreement.”

“I’m not?”

“No. You’re here to see how well you can handle my people.”

Kitarai hoped the darkness of her skin hid the flush that crept up from her chest to her face. “In a fight? Because if you—culturally speaking, that is—require some sort of trial by combat as part of the negotiations you ought to have mentioned it before, because we have plenty of willing and able warriors who would be far more suited than I to—”

“Who said anything about fighting?”

From the moment Kitarai had first laid eyes on Maazen Vyal she’d known she was going to get herself in trouble. She’d stood at her mentor’s side in the negotiation chamber, not listening to a word he was saying, whilst Maazen grinned at her in much the same way as she was now, scratching at the neat, close stubble that darkened her jaw, and Kitarai had gone to bed every night since and fingerfucked herself silly to the thought of her. For stars knew what reason, the idea of such weight atop her, of those thick, hairy limbs entangled with hers, of that stubble scraping her skin…it was enough to make a mess of every set of sheets she owned, and most of her undergarments too.

Maazen snapped her fingers. “Toza, find out what the ambassador’s got on under that fancy frock.”

The orc that had guided her in took hold of Kitarai’s waist, pulled her flush against him, then lifted her pretty skirts so Maazen and all her compatriots could see for themselves that what she had on beneath her fancy frock was precisely nothing at all.

“The floor is yours, friend Toza,” Maazen said, leaning her chin in her hand. “Make your opinions known.”

If Kitarai had thought herself blushing before, it was nothing to the heat that flew to her face now. Toza’s thick fingers delved between her legs, quick to find her wetness and sink into it. She bit her lip—just one finger was so very much!

“I find the ambassador quite eager,” Toza said, dipping in and out of her at an exploratory pace. “But worrisomely small.”

“Small but capacious,” Kitarai rejoined. “And more than capable of handling orcish negotiations.”

A rumble of laughter rippled around the table. Toza pressed another finger into her, thrusting and spreading, working her open—not particularly difficult work, since her cunt was more than eager to comply with the orc’s desires. All eyes were on her, watching her squirm in his arms, but Kitarai looked only at Maazen, who seemed as yet unimpressed.

“That’s enough for opening remarks,” one of the watchers said. “Cede the floor to me, Toza. Let’s see how she responds to a serious point of discussion.”

“You’ve never raised a serious point of discussion in your life, Adroll,” Toza said, though his tone was teasing. He withdrew his fingers, lingering on Kitarai’s clit in a way that severely challenged her poise. But she was no novice, and maintained it—right up until her confident stride brought her in sight of the moss-green cock in Adroll’s fist. It was so…proportionally large. Much larger than Toza’s fingers.

Stars, she wanted it inside her.

Adroll tugged her onto his lap, skirts rucked to her ribs. The hot weight of his shaft rubbed against her slick folds as he groped her breasts out of her bodice, rolling her rapidly hardening nipples between his rough fingertips. He rocked his hips, streaking her belly with pre-cum and his cock with her own arousal.

“You raise an interesting point,” Kitarai said, keeping her words mostly steady, “but it has yet to be properly argued.”

“Bad form to rush into an argument with such a delicate opponent,” Adroll said, licking at her neck.

Kitarai squeezed her thighs tight around his cock. “Demonstrate the worth of your argument or cede the floor.” At that remark—much to Kitarai’s satisfaction—Maazen let out a bark of laughter.

“As the ambassador wishes,” Adroll said. He lined up his cock with great deliberation, and Kitarai moaned as she sank down onto it. She’d never been so stretched, so filled—her own fingers were never going to be enough ever again.

Adroll’s thrusts were slow at first, growing harder and deeper as she opened to accommodate his girth. She reached back to grasp his shoulders as he fucked her, struggling to keep her breath. All around the table, the other orcs were openly stroking themselves and each other, hands around cocks and fingers in cunts—Maazen included, though from her position atop Adroll’s cock Kitarai couldn’t make out which of the two the orcish leader possessed. Whichever it was, Kitarai wanted it, and was prepared to negotiate as long and hard as necessary to get it.

Adroll’s grip on her hips tightened. “If the ambassador will allow,” he said, “I’ll present my concluding statements.”

“I’ll hear them with gratitude,” Kitarai replied.

He held her close as he fucked her quick and needy, grunting syllables of pleasure against her cheek that culminated in a long, breathy groan as he spilled inside her. Every twitch of his cock deposited another hot gush of seed—she could feel it filling her, in a way she’d never felt with her elven lovers, and for a moment it took her breath away.

“Excellent points, and well made,” she said weakly, as Adroll lifted her off of him. She tottered a little in her heels—they weren’t that high, but her legs had turned traitor—and put her hands on the table for balance. The woman seated nearest them put a hand to the curve of her ass.

“If no-one objects,” she said, “I’ll take the floor.”

No-one objected. Without further comment, the woman pushed her face down onto the table, ripped off her skirts, and drove her cock into Kitarai’s cum-filled cunt. Kitarai cried out at the sudden force of it, her surprise shifting into a moan as the head hit a point of pleasure deep within. The heft of the woman’s belly smacked her rear with every thrust, her heavy balls slapping the tops of Kitarai’s thighs in a hard, steady rhythm. Adroll’s cum helped slick her way—though as much of the wetness was Kitarai’s own, eagerly soaking the cock that filled her.

“I do believe the ambassador is warming up to us,” the woman said, then delivered a firm smack to Kitarai’s ass that made her yelp. “Not come yet, though.”

“I don’t…concede…to terms…that easily,” Kitarai gasped out.

“Then we’ll just have to keep negotiating,” Maazen said. Her eyes, when Kitarai met them, glittered. “Bring her here.”

The woman didn’t stop fucking her to do so. Instead, she lifted Kitarai and held her in place on her cock, squashed against her belly with one large forearm as she ambled around the table.

“Lot more room in her worldview than I thought there’d be,” Maazen said, sitting back in her chair. It was a cock she had, as it turned out, almost as thick as Kitarai’s forearm, and a lot longer than the one currently inside her. How she could hope to take it she hadn’t the faintest idea—all she knew was that she desperately wanted to.

The woman holding her pulled Kitarai off her cock and dropped her at Maazen’s feet. She tossed her hair back from her face, the glimmer of it casting a silvery glow over Maazen’s thick thighs. “And what do you bring to the table?” she asked, proud of how coherent she sounded.

Maazen reached down and fit one large palm to the back of her head. “A taste you’ll not soon forget,” she said, and pulled Kitarai’s mouth onto her cock.

It was a struggle. Kitarai opened as wide as she could and still it was a struggle, but she wanted, and when one wanted badly enough the stars found a way to make it happen.

“There’s a good girl,” Maazen purred, rubbing a thumb gently over the bulge in Kitarai’s throat. “It’s a difficult discussion, I know, but you can hold your own, can’t you?” Kitarai nodded as much as she was able. The throbbing heat of it consumed her senses, the taste of the pre-cum unlike any elven fluid she’d ever encountered. Earthier, somehow. Richer. More delicious.

She bobbed her head, drool soaking the length of Maazen’s cock, dripping down her chin, over her chest, spattering to the floor. The wet sound of her mouth was accompanied by the equally wet sounds of self-gratification around her as the rest of Maazen’s people gathered to watch her swallow their leader’s cock. The fist in her hair, the intense observation, the command with which Maazen claimed her throat—all combined with the lack of air to render her lightheaded, starbrained, full of heat and want and oh, stars.

Kitarai moaned around Maazen’s cock as she came, eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy.

“Finally coming around to our point of view, are you?” Maazen said, tugging her hair. “What are the rest of you hanging about for? Press our argument!”

Hands covered Kitarai from all sides: tearing off what remained of her dress; stroking her hips, her shoulders, her breasts; taking her own hands to fit them around a cock on this side, over a clit on the other; to caress a breast, a thigh, a stomach. A tongue lapped at her cunt and she gasped, half-gagging, but the only way to escape the overstimulation was to get closer to Maazen, and she was running out of throat. Tusks scraped her thighs as the tongue worked her clit relentlessly—she sighed in relief when it finally withdrew, only to let out a high, muffled cry as a cock took its place.

“Willing to concede yet, ambassador?” Maazen asked.

Kitarai put a hand on each of Maazen’s knees, bracing herself, and shook her head. Again that lopsided grin. Then the orc behind her bucked his hips, and the latest round of persuasion began in earnest. Every thrust pushed her face into Maazen’s groin, while each buck of Maazen’s wide hips shoved her back onto the cock ploughing her cunt. She sucked hungrily at Maazen’s thick cock as she bounced back and forth between the two huge members, luxuriating in the slap of skin on skin and the continual feel of large orcish hands on her body. She fairly vanished beneath a sea of mossy green, consumed by her pleasure and theirs.

It was entirely too much. The next time a finger brushed her clit she spasmed with climax, which seemed to inspire the orc behind her to fresh heights. He fucked into her with such force she couldn’t pull off of Maazen’s cock even a quarter inch—she dug her fingers into Maazen’s knees, able to do nothing but cling there and take it until at last he let out a shuddering moan and came in a hot flood. He pulled out midway through, decorating her ass and thighs with thick ropes of his seed, and Kitarai whimpered.

Maazen finally pulled her off her cock. Kitarai’s lips came free with a wet pop and she sucked in air frantically, jaw aching, chin and neck glistening with drool. Having nothing inside her felt appallingly wrong. She wanted more, and she wanted it now.

“A great many views have been expressed to me today,” she said—rasped—gazing up at Maazen. “But I’ve yet to hear yours.”

“My views won’t fit you,” Maazen said.

“I think I’ve proved how accommodating I can be.”

Maazen laughed, a full-throated, belly-shaking laugh, and slapped her thigh. “I admire your determination, ambassador. Up you come, then.”

She lifted Kitarai onto her lap. Kitarai’s legs strained at straddling it—both her thighs could have fit in one of Maazen’s with room to spare—and her cunt, still leaking orc cum, pulsed as Maazen’s cock slid against it. Stars, the thing was big.

“Alright, little sky-dweller,” Maazen said. “Let’s hear what you think of my personal opinions in the matter.”

Kitarai threw back her head with a scream as Maazen hauled her onto her cock. It split her in two, stretched her beyond reason, drove into her depths with such immediacy and force that she forgot her own name. The sheer size of it was enough to send her crashing over the edge again, pleasure so strong it was almost painful tearing through her from the soles of her feet to the points of her ears.

“How sweet,” Maazen whispered, stubble scraping lightly against her cheek. “You know, ambassador, I’m very much enjoying this negotiation.”

“A-as am…I…” Kitarai panted weakly.

“You don’t say.”

The last ragged remnants of Kitarai’s poise fled as Maazen took hold of her hips and began to fuck into her with abandon. She babbled and cursed and writhed, almost sobbing when she looked down and saw the way her flat little belly bulged to accommodate Maazen’s cock. Half out of her mind, she groped at Maazen’s breasts, dragging her fingers through their dark, downy hair, sinking her fingers into their vastness. It took both hands to pull one nipple to her mouth, and when she managed it she buried her face in the perfect wall of titflesh, sucking and licking and biting as if she were starving—and, despite how full she was, how her stomach stretched, near-pregnant with cock, she was nevertheless still voraciously hungry.

The other orcs watched on, their small orgy of self-pleasure yet ongoing. Toza caught her eye as it passed him and winked. His cunt gleamed beneath his fingers. Kitarai licked her lips.

“Friend Toza,” Maazen called, “get up here. The ambassador wants a word.”

Toza hopped to his feet and came to perch on the table, legs parted, one hand spreading the heavy lips of his sex. “I’ve been eager to hear her thoughts since she arrived, friend Maazen. Let’s hear what she has to say.”

Soon enough, Kitarai found her face between Toza’s plush, muscular thighs, the rest of her hanging off the table, supported mostly by Maazen’s cock. Her toes barely brushed the floor—she’d lost her shoes at some point; where in the world had they got to? Maazen delivered a motivational thrust, refocusing her attentions, and Kitarai set to work. She licked at Toza’s folds, delving her tongue into his warm wetness before sucking the short, soft length of his clit into her mouth. She’d eaten out plenty of elves before—all of them combined were a mere appetiser compared to the full course meal of one single orc cunt.

“Ah!” Toza cried out as Kitarai slid her fingers inside him—it swallowed three without issue, and she could have gotten her whole fist in there quite easily if she’d wanted to. She curled them up, stroking in time with the efforts of her lips. “Excellent point, ambassador, I concede to your…to your…oh fuck!” He came in a startling gush, flooding her mouth as he fell back on the table with a deep groan.

That made three inside her, which was very nearly a majority. Kitarai twisted to look over her shoulder. Maazen’s face shone with exertion, darkly flushed and stunningly handsome. “And what about you?” Kitarai asked breathlessly. “Do you concede to—oh!—to my…my…”

“Your cunt? Yes, ambassador,” Maazen said. “Yes, I do.”

She slammed her palm between Kitarai’s shoulderblades, pinning her to the table to pound into her with more ferocity than Kitarai could ever have tried to dream of. Her cock fit perfectly now, filling Kitarai’s cunt as if the slick hole had been explicitly crafted to take it. Stars above—that weight atop her, the scrape of stubble on her neck, that thick, fat, beautiful cock deep inside her, so deep she could think of nothing else—! Kitarai thrust her hips back what little she could, trying with all her might to take it yet deeper.

A growl was her only warning. Maazen came, hot and hard and—so Kitarai was certain—directly into her womb. She moaned out a thanks of some sort, but Maazen wasn’t done. She kept going, maintaining her brutal pace until Kitarai hit her own climax with something very like a shriek, tears springing to her eyes at the immensity of it, mouth wide, her entire body shaking uncontrollably.

“Persuasive little speech, that,” Maazen whispered, and nipped her earlobe. “Want to hear mine?”

“Stars, please!”

In some orcish show of endurance, Maazen slammed her cock yet harder into Kitarai’s depths, spurts of seed spraying out around her shaft with every thrust, snarling epithets in orcish until her words collapsed into a guttural roar and this time when she came she buried herself to the base and remained there, nails digging into Kitarai’s back so hard they stung, as she emptied her balls into Kitarai’s overflowing cunt.

Cum splattered thickly to the floor when at last she pulled out. It slid down Kitarai’s legs, which trembled so badly she didn’t dare try to move. Maazen was the one who turned her over, gazing admiringly down at her heaving chest and sweat-shined brown skin, and petting the slim bones of her hips with gentle thumbs. Did the orcs truly find her—find any elf—as attractive as she found them? Did her smallness arouse something in them the way their vital size did in her?

Questions for minds more coherent than hers. Once Kitarai had recovered her breath and enough strength to sit up, there was only one thing left to ask.

“So,” she said. “About that trade agreement…?”

“Oh, we signed that yesterday,” Maazen said. She returned to her chair, sprawling unselfconsciously with her cock hanging, half-hard, out of her trousers. “You can take all the papers with you when you leave. It’s a fair enough deal for all involved; we’ve plenty of harvest from the orchards to share. Although…” That damnable grin, conjuring heat from the embers of desire Kitarai had thought surely exhausted. “If that floating globe you call a town is sticking around, we may be in need of your ambassadorial services for the duration.”

“Couldn’t have anyone else,” Toza added. He shifted up the table, wrapping his arms around her, a tusk settling alongside her cheek. “Don’t reckon any other elves would be nearly so accommodating.”

From the other orcs there rose a general noise of agreement, all of them looking at her with lovely, eager eyes. Kitarai bestowed on them all, but especially on Maazen, her prettiest, sweetest, most diplomatic smile.

“No,” she said. “I suppose they wouldn’t.”