Chapter 104 Boneripper.

Rorg Boneripper liked the finer things in life.

And what could be finer for an orc than bending the wife of a noble over his bed, and claiming her pussy with his thick, green cock?

"Hrrrr!" Rorg grunted, slamming his hips forward, his scarred, muscular form tensing in the light of golden lamps curling up from above the bed.

"Yesssss!" Lady Margave moaned, head thrown back, her plush breasts swaying as she was fucked down into the bedding, her whimpers and moans rising in delight, her hands clutching the blankets in paroxysms of pleasure.

"Yes! Fuck me! Master! Yesssss!"

Rorg chuckled to himself.

Humans always fantasized about orc warlords. About being taken by brutal barbarian monsters. Claimed. Enslaved. Kept as little more than fuck pets for potent alpha males.

A fantasy Rorg was fine to indulge.

After all, he was more powerful than any warlord from the Cliffs of Karn.

Had he remained, he’d likely have ended up just another barbarian brute, wandering the foothills until he was recruited into the Black Horde, and invade some villages before the invasion inevitably self-destructed and he was killed by some heroes.

But here, here in New Larrin, he ruled!

His criminal empire was vast. The shadows his home. His soldiers gangs. The money that poured through his hands more than any chieftain could dream.

And the sluts.

Ohhh, the sluts.

Sure, keeping a woman chained to your bed was nice.

But having a choice from a whole city was so much finer. A new whore a day. A new eager, wanton slut begging for his cock.

Although, he mused as he slammed his hips once more into the gasping brunette beneath him, he wouldn’t mind keeping that elven beauty, Ava.

Ohhh, now there was a slut who knew how to please.

Compared to that blonde, buxom beauty, the woman currently wailing in ecstasy beneath him barely compared.

Maybe he should pay Ava a call? It had been a while since he plundered her pussy and fucked her full of orc cum. Maybe he’d even manage to breed her this time...

Someone cleared their throat.

Rorg slowed his thrusts into the woman beneath him. He turned his head.

Three robed figures were standing in the corner, their hooded faced hidden in shadows. Rorg narrowed his eyes.

And resumed fucking the woman under him.

Rorg was a practical orc. He didn’t fuck around. Didn’t play. He didn’t gloat or cackle or swish elaborate robes.

His club was protected by some of the strongest arcane charms in New Larrin, rivaled only by the palace itself. His defences were top notch.

But these people had bypassed them, entered his home, and were now before him.

Clearly, individuals of power. But Rorg was also not dead, which meant they wanted something.

"What?" he growled, low and deep.

"Rorg Boneripper?" one of the hooded figures said.

"Yes," Rorg said.

"R-Rorg?" the slut under him moaned.

Rorg delivered a stinging spank to her ass, making her yelp, then coo with pleasure.

"We wish to discuss business," the hooded figure said.

"Fine," Rorg growled, reaching forward, filling his hands with the brunette’s plump tits, squeezing them as she whimpered at his rough handling, his corkscrew cock pounding up into her. "I’ll be... hrrr... right with you!"

The three looked among each other, huddled up and spoke in hushed tones. Rorg let them talk.

He had to get his rocks off before he was going to deal with a bunch of weirdos in robes.

His hips increased their pace, jackhammering into the brunette beneath him.

He pushed a finger into her mouth, relishing how she yielded eagerly to his touch, arching under him, pushing her ass into his thrusts as she bit down on his finger to stifle her moans, the pain driving Rorg to fuck her even harder.

"Mm! Mmm! Mmmmnnnn!" she wailed, cumming, the sudden squeezing of her pussy pushing Rorg over the edge.

The orc groaned, hilting within her, pushing his cock deep inside her rippling pussy, releasing a sudden burst of his load inside the cooing slut.

Every pump of his cock thrummed through him, his cock bucking as he emptied his balls in her tight pussy.

Fuck. He might have gotten her pregnant. Well, would hardly be the first one.

Who knew how many bastards he had running around New Larrin at this point?

With a grunt he unsheathed his cock from the woman under him.

She slumped on the bed, face slack in slavish pleasure as cum oozed from her pussy, ass upraised and twitching with aftershocks like a bitch in heat.

Rorg allowed himself a brief smirk, admiring the view. Then he turned to the intruders and gestured. "We can talk in my office."

"That would be acceptable," the leader of the trio said.

Rorg shrugged, walking past them. He didn’t bother to throw on a robe. He merely pushed open the doors and entered his personal chambers.

The huge window at the back overlooked the club below, the glow of lamps and slot machines illuminating the pit.

The stage was alive with lovely dancers, their clothes already mostly off, the crowd loving it, their hoots and cheers mingling with the music into a dull roar.

Rorg walked to his desk and opened a drawer, fetching out a cigar. The trio had glided in after him and waited in the middle of the red carpet.

"Smoke?" Rorg offered.

"No, thank you."

"I’d like one."

"Hush."

Rorg shrugged and snipped off the end of his cigar. Still naked, he sat on the edge of his desk, sweat gleaming across his densely muscled form, red like molten metal in the glow of the lamps. He exhaled a cloud of smoke. "What can I do for you?"

"We are given to understand that you have a hand in the underworld of New Larrin."

Rorg laughed, the gold cap of his tusk gleaming as he smiled. "You could say that."

"An... object was stolen lately. Fenced, we believe. We should like it back."

Rorg snorted. "Lots of that goes on," he said, crossing his arms. "Be tough to find who did it."

"We did. He was... uncooperative."

Rorg raised a heavy brow. A lot in his business was implied with ’uncooperative’. Including a certain finality.

"So you want me to find out where it is?"

"We would be quite grateful."

"I bet," Rorg said. He stroked his chin, looking at the group.

Rorg rarely got involved with the cults and black wizards of New Larrin.

Not because he had moral qualms about it, but because they rarely paid, aside from promises of a place in a ’new world order’.

Which was fine and dandy, but Rorg rather liked his place in the current world order.

And getting involved with cults never ended well. The Silver Griffons and heroes usually dealt with them before long, often involving copious amounts of property damage.

But as has been established, Rorg was not stupid. And if these people could break into his home without a whisper of alarm, they could do it again.

"I’ll expect compensation," Rorg growled.

"Would you like a boat?" one of the hooded figures said.

"A boat?"

"It’s quite nice."

"No. Thank you," Rorg said.

"We will pay you," another figure said.

"How much?"

"Four hundred thousand gold pieces."

That got Rorg’s attention. He chewed on the end of his cigar, intently scrutinizing the trio. "...Alright," he said at last. "I’ll find it. But I’ll expect payment up front. No offence."

"None taken. It has already been deposited in your safes."

For the first time, Rorg flinched. "...I see," he said as coolly as he could. "Alright. What is it you’re looking for?"

"It’s a black sculpture made of stone, depicting several tentacles winding together. We advise you not to keep it overlong. It was last seen near the docks, and we would dearly like it back."

Rorg nodded slowly. "Easy enough," he said. "I’ll see what I can do."

"We have great expectations of you, Mister Boneripper. We will speak with you again shortly."

Rorg took a slow drag of his cigar. "How will I contact you?" he said

That gave the trio pause. They turned, bending into a huddle again.

"...did you..."

"I didn’t think..."

"Well how are we..."

Rorg slowly puffed on his cigar, watching the trio discuss. At last, they turned back to him.

"We will contact you when it is done," one said.

Rorg shrugged. "Alright."

"Farewell."

The three figures glided to the doors, opened them, and slipped through. Rorg waited a few seconds, then strode across the room and swung the doors open again.

Nothing.

The two orc toughs standing outside the door looked to him in surprise.

"Boss?"

Rorg glanced at them. "Did three people just walk through here?"

The two orcs exchanged a glance. "Er, no one’s been through, boss. Why? Expecting anyone?"

Rorg ground the end of his cigar between his teeth, then glanced at the pair. "Get the word out," he said. "Every pawnshop, every fence, every crook in town. I’m looking for a sculpture. Looks like three tentacles. Black."

"Uh, sure, boss. Anything else?"

"Yeah," Rorg said, feeling a stirring of loins once more. "And get me another slut. Gotta work off some of this tension."