The Son of Lust Chapter 20: Taming the Orc’s Wild Passion

The Son of Lust

Chapter Twenty: Taming the Orc’s Wild Passion

By mypenname3000

Copyright 2020

Note: This story was commissioned by Ultrasound 7 and has allowed me to share it with you. This may contain scenarios and acts that I normally wouldn’t write. There will be a strong sex slave/domination theme. I will keep this from violating any cannon established in the world and I developed the mythology that drives this story.

Pyrriah – Ankush, the Queendom of Naith

Solja’s ram-dao slammed down at me, the two-handed sword flashed in the sunlight. The crowd cheered, roaring with hunger for my death. For blood to be spilled in this cruel and terrible place. I hissed and rolled to the side.

The sword buried into the sand, kicking up a spray of particles.

I rolled to my feet, feeling energized. My fires burned hot in me, fueling my limbs. I moved quicker and felt stronger as I whirled around. My hair flashed by, glowing bright red, shining with my power.

“What are you, red?” growled the troll. He stood over me, his woody body looking unharmed, the wounds I had dealt having regenerated.

“Pyrriah, twin sister of Kurtis and daughter of Las!” I growled.

“A demigoddess?” The troll slashed in hard blows. “You’ll still bleed!”

I danced back as the ram-dao hacked through the air before me. The hulk swung that blade so fast. He didn’t leave himself open. He wielded that blade like it were an extension of his tall and lanky body. I could only dodge and dance.

Merely a flame rippling in the wind.

My tulwar flashed out, the curved blade deflecting his thrusts, nudging them from impaling through my body. I had to find a way to hurt him. It wasn’t just how impossible it was to get inside his guard and hurt him.

He healed.

He was a troll.

If I didn’t have my flames burning hot in me, if I didn’t hear Lasla cheering me on from the stands, I would have given up. But nothing was ever lost. Nothing was ever hopeless. I just had to figure out how to take him down.

He slashed in at my right. I flowed to my left, glowing hair whipping behind me, only for his blade to change direction. A feint driving me right into position to be cut down by the hard slash now hurtling at where I stood.

Instincts blazed through me. I thrust my tulwar out before me, grabbing the back of the blade with my left hand. I held it braced before me, a rod that caught his sword. Sparks burst from our weapons. My tulwar flexed, on the verge of bending or snapping. My arms burned, bending at the elbows from the force of his blow. I slid back on the sands.

“How many times can you block blows like that before that little twig snaps?” Solja growled.

I grinned back at him, my resolve blazing inside of me, and roared, “For Kurtis!”

He slammed another blow at me. Solja slashes swept down in rapid succession.

I gasped at the speed. They came one after the other, hardly a pause between them. Even with my new found speed, he was faster. I dodged and danced. I whirled out of the way of the attacks, but they were pinning me. Anticipating how I moved more and more.

He was understanding how I fought and countering me.

The next slash hacked in at me with blurring speed. I gasped, unable to dodge it. I thrust up my tulwar again to block, bracing the back of my blade against my left hand. Would my blade hold. Fear swept through me as the sword slammed into my tulwar. Sparks flared. A notch appeared in my sword’s edge, the weapon damaged. He drew back and hacked in before I could retreat.

I was dead.

There was no way I would survive this. He would cut through my blade and my body.

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Kurtis

The berserk Tharaka slammed her fist into my face. I groaned, lying on my back on the coliseum’s sands. I had thought I had her beaten, but then she unleashed her bloodlust. Her rage roared out of her. I groaned, my head throbbing from the impact.

She raised her fist again.

My brain ached. Blood trickled from a cut on my brow. If I didn’t get her off of me, she would kill me. Berserk, she had a massive increase to her strength and would feel no pain. I had no way of overpowering her.

Which I had to do. There was only one way to stop a berserk orc: let them fight everything until bloodloss or exhaustion overwhelmed them, or make them cum. Sex would turn that rage into a mad passion. It would be almost as dangerous fucking a berserk orc as fighting one.

But it was the only chance I had.

I thrust a powerful surge of lust into her. I was Las’s son. I could ignite desires and manipulate them in people. I rarely did it beyond giving a woman just a nudge to lose her inhibitions and fuck me hard.

I didn’t give Tharaka a nudge.

I punched her with pure lust.

Her next pummeling blow faltered. She arched back, roaring. Spittle flew from her pierced lips. Bones adorned her swarthy face. Her head tossed from side to side, her breasts heaving in her chainmail top. She grabbed her tits and ripped the armor off of them, roaring as the lust surged through her.

I bucked my waist, thrusting my crotch up into her, and rolled her off of me. I scrambled to my feet, my head ringing as her naked breasts heaved. She had bone pierced through both her fat nipples. She growled and then focused her eyes on me.

“BASTARD!” she roared, her anger stronger than the lust. It hadn’t even blunted her fury.

“Gods damn!” I cursed as she threw herself to her feet with her arms. She flew at me.

I raised my armored, left arm to block. She slammed her fist into my bracer. I groaned as she punched again and again, her swings wild and brutal. I moved my arm, lifting it up and down to parry her.

She dented the armor. The bracer, strong enough to block powerful sword strikes, deformed before the strength of her punch. Spittle flew from her as I retreated. I thrust more lust into the fury brimming in her.

Tharaka had a boundless sea of rage that festered in her. The choppy fury battered waves of anger against her mind. I swelled the lust in her, trying to form some sort of barrier to keep that black hatred from consuming her mind.

I just had to turn her on.

My shoulder joint throbbed from absorbing the impacts of her wild blows. She growled like a beast, her eyes wild. Spittle flew as I backpedaled. How much lust could her fury swallow? Did I have enough power to awaken her lust for me?

If I couldn’t she would rip me apart.

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Pyrriah

“KURTIS!” I screamed as death hurtled down at me.

My world burst into fire.

Flames erupted around me. The fire swept down my arms and then engulfed my weapon. Solja’s sword slammed into my burning sword. I tensed, expecting the snap of the metal and then the ram-dao cutting me in half.

My sword held.

“Illth’s poxed cum!” snarled Solja. He stepped back as fire burned over my body.

I shuddered, staring at my sword. The flames went out. The sword was whole. The nick had vanished. I stared at it in shock. I didn’t understand what I had just done. Where had all that power come from? The flames had blazed over my body but I hadn’t burned.

“Las, what did you give me?” I whispered.

Movement drew my eye.

I looked up and gasped. The ram-dao thrust right at my gut. I had lowered my guard and left myself open to death.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kurtis

I threw off my damaged bracer as I faced her. I had to get through to her or she would kill me.

As she swung her fist, howling in mindless fury, I gathered a huge blast of lust. A desperate thrust of passion that I plunged into her soul. I had to get through to her. I had to awaken her passion for once. I had to get through to her.

The lust slammed into her rage and wasn’t swallowed.

“Yes!” I hissed.

Her fist slammed into my chest.

Air burst from my lungs. My feet left the ground. I groaned and struck the sand, wheezing. Pain radiated over my rib cage. Tharaka snarled as she threw herself on me. She straddled me, her eyes blazing with furious passion.

I had awakened desire in her, but her lust and violence had wrapped about each other. Instead of her desire being a barrier to her rage, it had united with her fury. She growled at me, her large breast heaving.

I couldn’t tell if she wanted to fuck me or kill me.

Or both.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pyrriah

A burst of fire-enhanced speed exploded out of me. Flames licking over my body, I dove to the right. The sword slashed past me, missing me by a few fingers width. I hit the sand and rolled. I rose to my feet, the flames burning down my arms to my sword.

The fires reflected in his eyes. He stared at me, his chest rising and falling. I rose and stared at him. And then something clicked. He had a wary look. He had retreated when I first burst into flames, and now he looked equally as cautious, his reckless attacks gone.

Why?

Then it clicked in my mind. Realization burned across my thoughts.

Fire could hurt him. I didn’t know why, maybe because he looked to be made of animated wood. Suddenly, I had a weapon. A way to hurt him. Even kill him. I focused on the fire that burned through me, keeping it burning up my blade.

“You can’t regenerate from fire, can you?” I asked, his eyes fixed on my sword.

“Believe what you want,” he growled.

I slashed at him. His ram-dao parried it.

“No, no, you can’t,” I said with such certainty. “Fire’s the one thing you can’t regenerate.”

He growled and swung at me, but it lacked that wild, brutish force. I flicked the blade aside and darted in, looking to close the distance, but his reach was too long. He slashed the air before me, driving me back.

“Why do you want to be the ambassador so badly?” I asked as I faced him. “You have to overcome my fire to get it. And trolls hate fires.” Stories from my youth, told by my dragon-mother, came back to me. Trolls did despise fire. It was the only way to kill them.

Did Mother know that I had this fire? Does she understand what I am?

“You’re going to burn, Solja,” I said. “Is that worth being an ambassador to the snakes?”

“Yes!” he snarled.

“Why?” I demanded and darted in for an attack.

He drove me back as he snarled, “Vengeance!”

His previous recklessness had returned, swinging at me, driving me back.