Green in Bed - 8 (Patreon)

“There’s a gift waiting for you in your chambers.”

Tura almost jumped, startled by Garen’s voice. She turned and saw the teenager standing just beside her, arms locked behind his back. The she-orc felt the lingering buzz of shock run down her back. How had the lad snuck up on her? She’d always been able to sense his approach before.

She took a moment to collect herself, settling her nerves before she spoke.

“A gift? How very kind of you, Master Garen.” Tura hummed, turning to face the teenager. She slipped her feather duster under one arm, clasping her gloved hands together in front of her lap. A facade of coquettishness, one that she hoped would rile up her young noble lover before their meeting later that night.

A faint smile appeared on the teenager’s face. He watched her for a moment with keen eyes. Something glimmered within them, more than just the candlelight. Tura saw confidence… and amusement. As if the lad knew something that no one else did.

Tura understood why. She’d been milking his balls dry for the last several weeks. Her “instruction” had taught him many, many ways for a man to enjoy a woman… and vice-versa. All under his parents’ noses. It was no surprise that the young duke had begun strutting around the castle like a rooster as of late.

But there was something else, too. An aura of surety. It seemed to radiate from Garen, permeating the space around him. A calm, unshakeable sense that he was in charge. She’d seen it from him before, back when he first approached her with his carnal demands. Back then it was clear that the confidence was a front, a flimsy veneer to cover his insecurities. But now? Tura could see no breaks in this armor. Garen’s new vigor was all too real.

The lad stepped closer, moving very blatantly into Tura’s space. So bold were his steps that Tura almost found herself retreating from him. He remained some inches shorter than her, lean and wiry even under his layers of formal clothing. Tura shouldn’t have been intimidated - and she wasn’t. But when his smile turned into a smirk and cocksure pride lit up his eyes, the she-orc felt stunned.

“It’s more for myself, truly. I want my plaything to look nice.” He spoke with cool surety. His words came smooth and firm. There was a new strength to his voice now. And though his words shocked Tura further, she found them not at all unpleasant to hear.

Tura inhaled softly before speaking again.

“Is that right?” An edge creeped into her voice. The plaything remark had bristled her some. She lifted her chin, looking down her nose at the lad with the daring eyes. “Perhaps you left the gift in the wrong place, then. Seeing as I’m your tutor-”

“Tonight you’ll be my plaything.” Still smooth, still firm. But now his voice came sharp as well.

Tura blinked. Garen stood firm, unmoving, unyielding. The she-orc felt anger flare up within, thinking to shout and curse the boy down. But she thought better of it. She remained silent… and ignored the warmth that lingered in the pit of her belly.

Garen reached out and touched the white ribbon tied around her waist. For a short instant, Tura feared he’d pull on it and strip her bare right there in the castle foyer. Instead, Garen simply rubbed the fabric between his fingers. He gave her a friendly smile, his next words coming sweet and dangerous.

“Tonight, we’re going to do something different.” He told her, his eyes traveling down her body. “I’m going to take all that you’ve taught me. And I’m going to use it on you. You will be my plaything tonight, Miss Tura. And I want my plaything to look nice.”

To her own shock, Tura nodded. She didn’t so much as flinch when the human lad stood up on his toes to steal from her a chaste kiss.

“Come to my bedchamber after sundown. Wearing my gift, of course.” He whispered against her lips. Then he pulled away, stepping back looking all proper and respectful - as if he hadn’t just caused a wild stirring in Tura’s gut.

With a smile of such complete confidence, Garen Corvas walked away, leaving Tura in stunned silence… and with more excitement than she was ever willing to admit.

-  -  -

Garen’s gift turned out to be a gown of white silk.

Luxurious, clearly expensive, its fabric soft as sin and so very sheer. Long and flowing, it covered her shoulders down to her ankles - yet it hid away nothing.

Tura took some time to observe herself in her bedroom mirror, drinking in the sight of herself wearing a garment that was likely worth her contract a dozen times over.

The fabric had the consistency of smoke, almost fading in the light. Beneath the silk, Tura could see green. Sweeping the fabric outward were her large breasts, plump and swaying as she turned, her dark nipples brushing against the thin material. A shelf of womanly flesh, turning the silk gown into a curtain holding just so over the rest of her body. Lower, she could see the lines of her tummy, firm and sensual and enticing all at the same time. Lower still came the width of her hips, flaring out deliciously. And between her legs, Tura could see the tuft of dark hair that hid away the treasure her young master truly desired.

She looked more like a whore or a concubine than she did a housekeeper. Perhaps it’s fitting, thought the she-orc. I’ve spent almost as much time in Garen’s bed than on my household duties.

Tura had stayed true to the young duke’s commands. She had allowed him to enjoy her body, allowed him to gain experience with womanhood, in giving and receiving pleasure. She had even gone so far as to actively teach him the ways of the flesh, offering her knowledge and intimate instruction.

Now, as she swept silently through the dim halls of Castle Corvas, Tura could only wonder… maybe she had done too good a job.

Garen’s sudden renewed confidence had put Tura on the backfoot. She knew how to deal with a boy full of bluster and false bravado. But what she saw in him earlier was very real. The very same nerve that spurred him to demand her body in the first place. Now it was back, stronger than before.

It had Tura’s mind racing, wondering… what did that mean for her?

The she-orc came to Garen’s bedroom door, feeling a taunting chill roll down her body. Her nipples hardened, poking out into the sheer silk. From the cold, she knew. Or because of him?

Tura didn’t let herself think about that. She gave the door three faint knocks and waited.

The door slowly creaked open. Garen greeted her, wearing a faint but pleased smile… and nothing else.

Tura inhaled softly, taking in the sight. For the first time in weeks, she really looked at him. She studied the firmness of his lean body, the definition and tightness of his musculature. It had only been some weeks since they began their wicked relationship but it seemed to Tura that her young master had grown. In mind and spirit and nerve, if not in height.

“Miss Tura.” He greeted her, so calm despite his nudity. He had the confidence only a true noble could have. “Please come in.”

He pulled the door open wide, his eyes shining deviously as they raked over her silk-shrouded form.

Tura’s heartbeat quickened, but she drew her eyes over him as well as she stepped inside. Her gaze dipped between his legs. She found him half-hard, his shaft bobbing slightly - his beating heart pumping it full of hot blood. Even his cock seemed bigger, Tura noted. And she had been the one to teach him how to really use it. Realization came quickly, like a striking viper. Tura had given Garen all the tools he needed to take back control.

Despite herself, Tura felt a tension deep inside. A yearning that bloomed hot. Being commanded, however irksome she felt it was, thrilled her. And by a teenage boy!

She moved into the bedchamber - the place that had been her domain for weeks while she tutored Garen in the ways of a woman’s body. There before her was his bed. Red drapes hung from the posts now, deep warm burgundy that mirrored the couple’s fiery passion on the mattress just beyond.

That was where she made Garen into a man. And tonight it would be where Garen would make her his woman.

Tura turned just in time to see the lad close shut the bedroom door. Then came the click of the lock. There would be no escape. Not until Garen was done with her.

The she-orc felt her body light up with anticipation, a wicked zeal thrumming just under her skin. Garen made his approach - Tura watched as his cock swayed between his legs. It was like she was seeing him for the first time. He may have been young - her young duke - but he was clearly a man. The proof was in his stride, full of purpose and hunger. It was in his eyes, orbs of blue so brilliant and sharp, desiring her.

Garen didn’t waste time. He closed the distance quickly.

His first touch as her master was electric - his hand sliding around to the back of her neck as he pulled her in for a kiss. No warning, no hesitation. He was taking charge. Just as he learned.

Their lips met. No frantic desperation this time. He claimed her mouth with surety, with hunger. Tura sighed, drawing forth into his arms. Their mouths worked together, lips and tongues locked in a lurid dance. She moaned into his mouth.

In a twisted way, Tura felt a measure of pride. Garen was showing clear improvement from their first night together. The way he touched her through the silk dress, slow and deliberate in his groping. Feeling her body just right, putting perfect maddening pressure onto her soft, warm skin. He was showing patience, even as his free hand slid up to cup her breasts.

Tura let out another moan, shuddering as Garen’s fingers teased at one of her nipples. He pinched her through the fabric, making her gasp. He kept his lips locked with hers, silencing her. He slid an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. His other hand dropped from her neck to paw at her buttocks. His fingers groped at her through the silk - she may as well have been wearing nothing at all, so intense were the sensations of his touch.

If this was what Garen had learned to do with his hands… Tura was eager to find out what he could do with his spear.