Gentlemen Orcs and Rapebait Elves Alliance - Mediator's Duty (Patreon)

"Apparently we're... uhm, compatible," Bradford said, scratching his large belly with his claws, looking a bit contrite. Beside him, his, uhm... wife, had a similarly large, rounder belly. Which considering how much smaller than him she was, it was quite an accomplishment, but the thin elf was taking the impregnation with an orc baby with commendable aplomb.

Well, the fact that thick yellowish orc semen was dribbling down her legs was probably a good explanation as to why she was so chill and blissed out.

"I guess I can arrange for that," you said, diplomatically. "She's gonna have to live here, though. You wouldn't last a day in that den of evil."

The orcs who had gone over to, ah, 'visit' the Elven Village in the guise of 'captured monsters' told horror stories of it. The elves were merciless, ruthless and voracious monsters, gluttonous entities that knew no satisfaction, and even when any one of them reached the limit of her alloted free time for that day, they'd just switch places with a new one.

Barnaby, a man among men, an orc among orcs, had almost returned a broken man, though with of course, the bone deep satisfaction that came from having become utterly, totally and completely sexually exhausted. At least they helped get him back when he could be squeezed no more.

It all had to be kept very hush hush, the elves were raging nymphomaniacs, almost to the last, but they didn't want anyone to know that they were. Much like how the orcs kept most other sentient races away from their lands, once upon a time, via the threat of brutal retribution, the elves kept others from intruding in their forests through awe and respect.

Something that would be lost, if anyone saw that an elf was never as happy as she was when she was impregnated by an orc and agreeing to become his 'dirty filthy sow' as she herself had put it.

"Thanks man," Bradford said, "I really owe you one for this. The way she is, I don't wanna have her walking around the forest any more than she has to."

Not only were orcs and elves compatible - both species had extremely short incubation periods, and apparently it took a great toll on an elf, forcing them to be very dependant on their, ah, baby daddy so to speak.

Bradford was a bit wobbly on his feet, his wife was running him ragged. You smiled, ruefully, and patted his shoulder. "I'll handle it, you guys go get some food and rest," you said with a nod. "You too, Sara."

She smiled. "Thank you, Mister Mediator."

They'd named you that. Mediator. Representative of the Orcs. The one who brokered the alliance. Diplomat supreme.

Well, in public. Most of the time you were just "dirty orc" or "master", depending on whether your partner wanted to play at pride or let out her inner sow.

"Alright, I'll leave it to you, we'll prepare a feast to celebrate the announcement."

Nodding. "I... hope I'll be back in time to enjoy it," you said with a laugh. It wasn't entirely likely that you might even return within the day. Your powerful orc legs took you to the meeting point with the elves, where a guard would always pretend to be on patrol just in time to 'catch' an orc scout, and where you'd then be taken to meet a diplomat from the elven village in secret.

You waited there for a couple of minutes, but after no one came, you began getting bored. Ten minutes in, your boredom was broken - a forest cat, a cougar of some sort, came wandering in, growling lowly. You hummed. It seemed to think you were a regular denizen of this part of the forest. They didn't hunt near orc territories, and this one didn't seem to know why.

It leaped towards you, and you caught it mid air, its paws swinging wildly, drawing lines across the muscles of your arm. With an exertion of your strength, you put pressure on its torso, causing it to screech, and with a single slam against the ground, it died.

You grunted, running a hand down your rapidly healing arm. Orcish strength, orcish toughness - there were definite advantages. Height was only one of them. You could do without the big belly, but even that had its advantages. Beneath it was powerful muscles, and it meant you never really suffered hard from cold. It also came in handy whenever someone fancied themselves an orc slayer and tried to disembowel you.

And then an arrow buried itself on your bicep. You grunted in pain. Well, this was... not really new, but it was definitely annoying. This hadn't happened since you had that... understanding forged with the elves.

You pulled it out, the barbed tip coming out with a bit of skin and flesh, and tossed it away. You were hit with another one, and brought your arms up, covering your head, just in time to get a third one stuck there, this one head to your face. Thinking quickly, and knowing the nature of elves, you endured a few more shots and when an opportunity came, you let one strike you near the chest. It didn't go very deep, you tested the archer's bow and it simply didn't seem to have the draw strength to do more than lightly sting you.

You let yourself fall to the ground, pretending the arrow had felled you, and an elf dropped from the trees - she'd been jumping around, to avoid detection. Strong and fast as you were, in a dead sprint, agility and dexterity was the realm of the elves, you could not have caught her.

"Savage beast," she muttered, sniffing at the air. "Already spreading his disgusting, thick musk," she blinked, shaking her head. "No, it must be his blood... yes, I'm a hunter, I'm merely excited at the prospect of a completed hunt," she said, nodding to herself and placing her bow on her back, buckling it in place to hold it secure. She wore a green leotard, a 'skirt' made of leather strips dangling from her waist that barely covered her lovely hips, and a leather breastplate that was more of a bra, and it did more to show her breasts off than it did to protect them.

She bent over you, and you pretended that you'd died with your eyes opened - she didn't seem to be too observant despite describing herself as a hunter.

"You've been taking so many of our women... even my sister, you've kidnapped her," she said, icily. "I'll slay you, each and every one of you, monsters!"

Oh.

Ooooooh.

She... she was not on the ball, was she? She was not remotely aware of what was actually happening. The elves insisted on the secrecy, it was a matter of reputation, they wanted to avoid anyone seeing her for the turbo sluts that they were. 

And apparently, not all the elves were aware of what was happening.

As she glared down at you, your eyes focused on her already wetting crotch; her skirt did little to hide the fact that the bottom of her leotard was damp, and it certainly wasn't from sweat.

Your hand moved quickly, and you grasped her foot. You were a bit of a pincushion, but it wasn't hard to move despite the multiple arrows stuck in your muscles. 

"What the-"

Your hand moved, and you quickly stood up, holding her by the foot, dangling her, as she tried to throw fists at you... only to find she just didn't have the reach to. And she was too panicked to reach for her bow.

You growled down at her - and ignored how it seemed that the more you acted like the stereotype, the more she became obviously aroused. Her nipples were not covered by her breastplate, and her nipples were quite visible, sticking out, rock hard within her leotard.

Then you sighed, turned her around, and placed her down on her feet. "You've got the wrong idea."

She crouched down and pulled her bow - the buckle on her back snapping, and aimed it at you. In melee range.

Sure, she was fast, but... well, you had plenty of time to grasp her bow, and break it in half with a flex of your strength. 

She cried. "Oh no! I'm defenseless in front of a vile rapebeast!" she cried. "My purity-"

"Is completely safe," you said, "girl, we... are way less into this than you think."

"W-What!? But, but the stories, big sis always told me of, of how you were powerful, virile, monstrous rapists, with giant dicks that could repopulate an entire elven village!"

"Those are just stories, orc rapebands were never even a thing," you said. 

"B-But, you captured me, and, and made me defenseless," she argued. "Obviously you intend to use your manly parts on me to make me your woman! Like you did to my sister!"

"Okay, first, no I don't, I stopped you from annoying me with a bow that's for hunting forest critters, not for killing orcs, you're gonna need thicker and heavier arrows for that," you said. "And second, that was my bro Bradford, and I assure you, your sister is the one that chased him."

"There's no way we elves would fall for your wonderfully masculine," she sniffed deeply, "erotic scent!"

"Look there's nothing wrong with having fetishes, your sister just wants a man who will fuck her into the ground, and impregnate her, and then invite his buddies to gangbang her, and cover her in excessive amounts of orc cum," you said, gesturing with your hands over your face as if to specify where she was covered specifically, and then you coughed, "and then cook her a nice roast and braid her hair and spend four hours trying to figure out what to name their baby."

"You fiends impregnated her! That's why you're here, you're here to kidnap even more of us elves, and take us to be your breeding pods!"

You rolled your eyes. "Okay, first - let me make it clear. Of all twenty eight elves we've impregnated, twenty four gave birth to elves. If that was our goal, this would be an absolutely terrible method for reproduction. We have orc females for that you know!"

"You do?" she asked, shocked.

"Yeah, where do you think orc babies come from? Spores?"

The elf pouted. "Uhm... elves?" she asked, almost sounding hopeful. "I thought that was why orcs kidnapped elves..."

"Look, this- we're doing you guys a service," you explained. "Your chief said you actually have a legitimate birth rate issue," you said, "and you've been paying us with products from your farms and orchards, and the pelts and bits of animals that are too small for us to be able to hunt reliably. In return, we've been providing our males as service to your tribe."

"Oh..." she blinked. "Uh... I don't understand. What service?"

"Fucking you," you said, bluntly.

"B-But... but, that's what... you should only do that with someone you love," she said. "The chief, she'll-"

You rolled your eyes. "Your chief gets two or three weekly visits," you said. "You ever wonder why she always keeps the 'captured' orcs in her basement despite the fact that they keep escaping from it?"

"Oh. Oooooooooh," she looked at the arrows stuck in your body. "I've... I've fucked up majorly haven't I? Ariadne is okay?" she asked.

"Heavily pregnant, but yes, safe, sane, healthy, having amazing consensual sex daily, and also relearning how to cook," you said.

"Oh, I don't envy whoever's trying to teach Ariadne how to cook. She could burn water," the archer snorted. "Could... could I go see her?" she asked. "Just- just to confirm," she said.

"I'm not sure that's so good an idea," you said. "Your, umh... your kind tends to, ah, not deal very well with places that smell strongly of orc."

She glared at you.

You coughed, reached at her crotch, and ran a hand down her soaked cunny. She moaned, legs shaking, and then she crashed down onto her knees.

"W-What was that," she moaned. "Why'd- why'd I cum just from that!?"

"Apparently our smell does things to you," you said. Your own loincloth felt a bit tight and uncomfortable, you couldn't deny that the elf was sexy. Long blond hair, big, expressive baby blue eyes, an amazing rack, well muscled and yet soft and tender looking thighs, and thick, luscious lips.

She panted. "Uhm... I can handle it, promise. Just, just take me to your village?" she asked.

You frowned. You nodded. "Alright, I'll take you to see your sister - when my business here concludes. Go back to your village, and tell your chief that the mediator is waiting, someone is supposed to come around at this time, but nobody's shown up yet."

She nodded.

It was a strange situation - but on some level, you were actually kind of glad she'd been able to resist her urges. So far, you hadn't met a single elf that didn't become a raging degenerate when exposed to orcish musk. The very fact she was able to leave, walking mostly straight, and not look back or pretend to trip to present herself for your, ah, usage, actually made you respect a little.

Soon enough, your business would conclude - the chief agreed to allow the marriage and for Ariadne to move to the village...

Well, after a round of 'negotiations'...

The chief of the elves, despite counting her age in centuries, was just as youthful as any other, and she had light pinkish hair, rose-colored eyes, and a bewitching smile, most of the time.

Her face, however, was quickly degenerating into a mask of pleasure, as you plowed her into her bed of feathers. The chief had no reason to decline, the only reason she had initially refused was simply to give you an excuse to 'take' her, and 'force' her to accept your terms.

You plowed her long, hard, and fast. The archer who'd attacked, and then helped, you was actually present in the room - the chief always made her 'humiliation' a public one.

"Ugh, you fiend, you beast, you're defiling me in front of my daughters, how dare you, how daaaaaaaaareee youuuu!"

You let out a bestial roar as you lifted her, almost sitting her on your lap, bouncing her like a toy, your cock nearly bulging on her flat tummy.

"Nooo! Your thick orc cock is gonna make me melt, fall apart, you're gonna turn me into a dirty woman!" she cried, "the chief of the elves is just a filthy sow like all the rest!"

"That's right!" you shouted, slamming her down and forcing the entirety of your massive orcish shaft into her tiny elven pussy, and arched your back, your roar matching her scream in volume and both of you conveying little else but the pleasure that you felt in each other's body.

You poured your thick, impregnating milk into the elf. The Chief would only submit to the 'strongest', or so was the excuse she used to ask for your presence so frequently.

Once you were done, she panted.

"W-Woah, Neema was right," the chief said. "You really are a cut above the rest," she panted. "A-Alright, you've, you've tamed my rebellious spirit, this sow will accede to your terms," she moaned.

She was also the mother of the first elf you'd ever, ah, had sex with. In fact, she was the mother of at least a quarter of the elves in the village - Neema was just her firstborn.

You gave her a tusked smile. "Always happy to negotiate," you said, nodding, helping her off of your shaft, and helping her gingerly sit down.

You looked at the archer. "Oh, and I'm taking that one," you said. "To see her sister."

The chief hummed. "Jana - you should definitely lose your virginity to Master Boardman before you go. I definitely recommend your first time be one on one."

"B-But, I'm just going to see Ariadne, Great Chief, I- I'm not-"

The chief rolled her eyes. "Girl, this is why we didn't tell you about this," she said. "But as your chief I can't allow you to continue denying yourself the greatest pleasure among elves."

"But chiiiieeeef," she moaned. "I- I want my first time to be with my husband!"

"You've been reading those silly human romances again, haven't you?" she asked. "They've got that perspective because they only live a hundred years, dear - their notion of 'forever' is a couple decades at best!"

You felt a bit awkward, caught in the middle as the chief began arguing with Jana.

However, your awkward feelings were soon assuaged as one of the Chief's guards approached you, lifting her skirt and showing you her soaked pussy. You decided you might as well kill some time while those two argued...