Deadly Stories
patreon
FiOP Chapter 109
🕑 Added 2025-09-21 22:08:10 +0000 UTCThird Person Point of View
Roka was born in an orc stronghold. The childhood of orc children is very similar, no matter their sex. Playing, fighting, and being rambunctious, all under the eyes of multiple mothers of the warchief. Orcish mating rituals were much closer to lions than other people; a single leader led most tribes, and only women captured from other races could be experienced by the other male orcs of the tribe.
Every orc female would belong to the warchief; he would trade away his daughters for the daughters of a different warchief, and the larger the tribe, the bigger the warchief's harem. The largest tribes to ever exist had harems that numbered in the tens of thousands. It had been over a thousand years since there was a tribe of over a thousand orcs, and hundreds of years since a warchief had a harem of over a hundred mates.
Orcs were self-sustaining in size. When they grew too big, they’d start culling their own population, abandoning the ‘runt’ males when they didn’t have enough food. Most warchiefs would only increase their territory to the size they could handle, because just like lions, they could be challenged for their position. A bigger tribe just meant a larger target most of the time.
Another part of the self-sustaining nature of orcs was that they loved warfare and killing each other. Only an orc truly above the rest could lead groups larger than twenty, and to rule a kingdom-sized tribe, they’d have to be beyond what was possible for other orcs to reach. The way orcs worked, most orcs were no longer pure blooded; only those who came directly from a line of warchiefs would be, while any born outside of the warchiefs would have their blood diluted with other races.
That didn’t matter much to them; a human could rule a tribe as long as he was strong enough. There had never been a case of that happening, but orcs have been subservient to stronger races if they proved their strength. If an orc didn’t respect their leader, they could leave at any time if they weren’t as strong as them to challenge for leadership.
That would be how orcs slipped into society; there were now more orcs born to other races in cities than there were born into tribes. The truth was, the tribe model was failing; without large-scale conflict, orcs could only grow so strong. Without constant battle and fighting to be on top, they faltered and were weaker than the average adventurer.
Some orcs were even born into their position as warchief; those who didn’t fight were often even weaker than those they ruled over. Honor played a large part in orc traditions, so more often than not, if the previous leader gave the warchief position away, no other orcs would challenge the new leader until they thought they could beat the previous chief.
Roka came from one of the last true bloodlines of warchiefs. Instinctively, she would only surrender to a male strong enough. And once she reached adulthood, the warchief she was given to was a weakling. Young, inexperienced, weak, cowardly, and selfish, all the things that made a bad warchief. A warchief like theirs shouldn’t have even existed, let alone have one of the largest numbers of mates from all the nearby tribes.
That was because he was good at one thing: being lustful. He traded many children away, which led to having a larger harem than he should have, without needing to constantly fight off other orc males for the warchief position. It was all the culmination of a strong father who gave him the position, which led to having strong orcs who weren’t the warchief to protect his position.
Male orcs liked to bite their mates to mark them. It was normally done once or twice, if the bite scar wasn’t that obvious, but the feeble warchief leader had a bad habit of constantly biting his women, over and over again. Whenever he bred them, he would leave marks all over their bodies. It was a clear sign of his own insecurities; the warchief position was only his for as long as the other orcs thought they were weaker than his father, which wouldn’t be more than a few more years, but Roka was done.
She hated that life; the large group of them should have felt like a family, but none of them looked after each other. No, they actively fought and jockeyed for higher positions in his harem, which he gleefully enjoyed. She was the first to leave, but not the last. She had viewed her lack of pregnancy as a problem, but without a reason to stay, she could leave when it became too much. She sparked the true feelings in many of the other female orcs who stuck with him out of sheer tradition.
In just a few years, the tribe split, breaking into many factions, while others were absorbed by other tribes, as the warchief was finally slain by one of the new females who didn’t put up with his marking her through bites. It was a slap in the face of his legacy, and many orcs refused to do business or trade with the male orcs who let it happen.
Roka felt the racism toward her race for the first time shortly after she left for the cities. She needed to relearn just about everything as she was tricked, scammed, and stolen from, over and over again. She clawed her way from less than nothing multiple times, and more than once, she’d enter a new city with only the clothes on her back, sometimes even less than that.
Finally, years after she left, she made it to the city with enough money to start a business. The business really shouldn’t have functioned; it didn’t make much money, but she could fend for herself, killing monsters in the dungeon in order to have food while she got her legs underneath her as a businesswoman.
By the time the farmer arrived, she was one of the richest businesswomen in the entire village; her inn not only supplied rooms to adventurers who hadn’t purchased a home yet, but her food and midwife subclass made her extremely valuable to have in the village.
She wasn’t sure how things would turn out when they had drunken sex, but a little accident happened. Months of trying from her supposedly fertile warchief couldn’t match the two days of passion from the farm boy as she found out she was pregnant shortly after. How could a human compare with an orc? Well, if she were to compare, he would beat the warchief in every single category, especially in the bedroom, where he cared for her needs as much as his own.
She took the main position of caring for the children, and after the birth of her child, she quickly grew into the second matron of the harem, as many of the other wives would come to her for questions or rely on her when a problem arose. She… She loved it, she thought she would hate being in a harem again, but it was the most fulfilled she had ever been in her entire life.
Not only was she spiritually satisfied, but also sexually satisfied. She often gave her spot in line up to the other girls, but when she didn’t, she liked to be fucked so hard her legs would wobble the day after, and perhaps the farmboy was the only one who could do that every single time they had sex.
