Trading love for safety-bedding the Orc Matron. ('Trap' Elf x Futa/SheM Orc)

[FurredMonster]

Syla couldn't help but let out a frightened whimper as he crouched behind the alchemists bench cluttered with various tubes, flasks, and critter pieces. He peeked over, just barely able to see out the window of the small store and onto the moonlit streets. The sounds of conflict and death filled the petite elf with dread, his eyes watching as his people were slaughtered by the green horde. The Orcs had come.

His head snaps the left as he hears the door suddenly rattle against its frame. Then again, and again.

THUMP

THUMP

THUMP

The small lock is no match for a hearty orc-kick, and the door flings open with a spray of splinters. Syla ducks down again, clenching his eyes shut, trying desperately to keep his panicked breaths quiet.

"I smell you..." he hears, a low, feminine growl. Footsteps make there way closer to the desk, the alchemists apprentice heart jumping everytime the orcs boot hits the floor. Suddenly, he feels a fist tangle itself into his blonde hair, and he's hauled up and backwards before being slammed into the table, expensive equipment shattering and tumbling off the surface.

He catches a quick glimpse of orange eyes, before a fist meets his jaw.

...

Syla comes to with a groan, his head inhabited by a splitting headache, his face bruised and sore. He was outside, tied to a broken lamppost. The sun was rising-he just had been unconscious through the night. Looking one way then the other, a deep despair sets in as he looks over his now ruined home. Buildings are smashed or burning with plumes of black smoke, and corpses litter the street. He turns his attention to his immediate surroundings. It looks like him and a few other elves had been rounded up into the town square. Orcs were crowded into the area too-admiring the treasure of their raid, or feasting upon...

A glance to the middle of the square revealed a massive bonfire, and several, certainly humanoid bodies within it. Some were tied to large poles, others skewered, but thankfully all were quiet. The elf's stomach sunk. He didn't want to die here, cooked and devoured in the remnants of his city.

His chest thumping, a light airy panic flooding his chest, he looks around like a panicked animal, on the verge of screaming, a mental break closing in. He catches the gaze of an older Orc looking right at him. Her eyes were wizened, her long braided hair a ravens black with strands of silver intertwined. It was more than a passing glance, for she held his stare, though her face showed no emotion.

"Save me..." he mouthed desperately.



Looking to play Syla, a very pretty Elf who ends up being saved from a terrible fate by an older Orc. As hinted at by the title, I want to explore the dynamic in which Syla is able to show this Orc the softer comforts of life. An affection and doting, even if his life depended on it. No Orc has had an elaborate meal cooked for her, a flower-oil massage at the end of the day, bathed tenderly with a soft sponge, and so on.

I'm not entirely set on how I would like the relationship to be, so that is up for discussion. The Orc keeps Syla around, enjoying the pampering and doting. Syla does his best to keep the orc pleased, for obvious reasons. Whether he is a slave to be brutalized and enjoyed, a valued possession, a protected campanion, or something in between, can be explored.

Monster taming in my signature can be clicked for my O/Os.

Come chat!