Mushog's Ride

Or

Orc-brat Gets Zooped

Ages ago, I read the Lauderdale's wonderful fic, Orc-brat over the course of several days. I was transfixed. I was amazed. I was enthralled. And then it ended.

I waited. I chewed my fingernails, wondering what came next after Chapter 26. Would Leni and Maevyn ever escape? Would Grymawk survive the bite wound? Would Kurbag get pwned for being such a jerk? Would any of them get pwned for being such jerks? Who was going to get their ass kicked over the misplaced silverware?

Like many, I'm sure, I imagined any number of scenarios where pwnage would be dished out and the girls set free. Only recently did I actually come up with a way. A very interesting way. A decidedly Zoop-like way. And yet... not what you'd expect.

Playing with Orcs takes you to very dark places. Some of them even an Orc doesn't feel comfortable exploring. I'm sure many of you who've found something you like in these guys will wish you were Shannon. And then quite suddenly... you'll be glad you're not.

Have a seat. But you'll only need... the edge.

Disclaimer:

All characters except Shannon (who is mine) belong to The Lauderdale, as does the setting, the headcanon, the lore, and the character backstories. If you haven't read Orc-brat, you likely won't get any of the inside jokes pulled mercilessly straight out of the narrative of that glorious fic. So do yourself a favor: READ IT.

This little tale is by no means an inserted lost moment intended by the author (who will expand on her views below), nor is it a continuation of the story. THIS NEVER HAPPENS IN ORC-BRAT. Don't look for mention of these events when The Lauderdale picks her story back up.

~ Zoop

Foreword from a Disgruntled Author

In my capacity as the author of Orc-brat, I must condemn "Mushog's Ride" and its underlying perversions of character, plot and scenery in the strongest possible terms of my indignation and resentment. The appearance of the woman Shannon presents a gross disruption to the world of my characters as they inhabit it. That she proceeds to have carnal relations with over half my Orc band is, to my mind, a wholly unacceptable tampering with the tale.

As the author of a stunningly original fanfiction work of fanfiction originality, I have been painstaking in my efforts to delineate certain totally unprecedented themes and character dynamics (mine!) With a disregard for narrative integrity breathtaking in its casual attitude and sheer recklessness, Zoop has wrought havoc upon my entire cast. It is not enough for her to pervert my characters: she must even pervert their perversions. Shrah'rar hasn't screwed a horse in over a week, and I don't think Mushog has tried to molest anyone since –

Well. We're all a little worried about Mushog.

I fear for their physical and emotional stability; also for the many trees in this story, compelled to bear the weight or force of sundry bodies engaged in libidinous activities presented ad infinitum. Yavanna wept.

In short, don't read this story for the sometimes frighteningly apt elucidation of certain plot points and themes, or because I'm a slow author and who knows when the next chapter of OB is coming out. Read it because Zoop is hysterical and you're going to have fun.

~ Laud, AKA The Lauderdale

Dear Penthouse...

"Did I ever tell you about the..."

"Most likely."

"How about..."

"Heard that one, too, I'll warrant."

Mushog fumed, shooting a glare at Kurbag. They still had a mile or so to hike and it was obvious Kurbag was going to make it as dull as possible. The Uruk stared sullenly ahead, grumbling under his breath.

The game trail they were following was the 'quickest' way to a village Bragdagash was fairly certain still stood, though where he got his knowledge from was a mystery to Mushog. Didn't really matter anyway. If he was right, there'd be spoils and plunder aplenty. The leader hadn't steered them wrong yet.

He was just wracking his brains for a good joke he might not have told in awhile when Kurbag stopped, standing stiff and alert.

"Hear that?" the tall half-Uruk said quietly.

Mushog strained his ears, but not for long. A low susurrus of barking and snarling made itself known. Furrowing his brow, he met Kurbag's equally suspicious look.

"What do you think?" Mushog asked. "Getting closer?"

Kurbag listened for a moment, then slowly nodded. "Yeah. Headed this way."

Grinning, Mushog drew his sword. "And I thought there wouldn't be any fun on this trip." Kurbag pulled his own with an equally feral smile.

The path dipped into lower ground some ways ahead, so the two Uruk-hai stayed put. If the pack was too big, they'd have enough room to make a run for it. By the sound of it, there were more than a handful of wolves on the run, but neither was ready to admit worry over it to the other just yet.

Unexpectedly, a figure came running up the rise, arms and legs pumping hard. Mushog grinned.

"Tark," he crooned. Seeing the long hair and the clear evidence of unfettered tits bouncing in its jerkin, his grin broadened. "And a female. This one's mine, Elf-fucker."

"Shut up," Kurbag snapped.

The tark didn't seem to see them, or was too afraid of the wolves chasing her to consider a pair of Orcs as threatening enough to stop her. She ran up the path right at the bemused Orcs.

"Don't stand their gawking!" she yelled. "Run if you don't want your asses chewed!"

Stunned, Mushog darted a look at Kurbag. Then the tark reached them and grabbed their slack wrists. Whirling the pair of them around, she all but dragged them forward.

"Run, you dumb fucks!"

Glancing back, Kurbag saw the first wave of wolves come over the rise and his eyes widened. "Shit!" He needed no further coaxing from the tark. Mushog picked up on Kurbag's alarm and didn't even bother looking back.

Once they were running alongside her, the tark let go of them. Her eyes darted from one side of the trail to the other, in constant motion, looking for a refuge.

Mushog was a fast runner on the flat, but this tark was overtaking him. By the smell of her, she'd been running for some while, yet she still had enough left to outrun an Uruk. Something else wasn't quite right. He caught no appreciable whiff of fear off her. Not of the wolves, and strangely not of them, either. Interesting.

"There!" she suddenly cried, and veered off the game trail. The Uruk-hai automatically followed, crashing through the underbrush in her wake. A stand of tall, thick trees lay ahead. The tree she picked had branches low enough for them to grab. "Up the tree! Up the tree!" Then she leaped at the lowest branch and pulled herself up.

She didn't just leave them there, either. She stopped a few yards up and turned to make sure they were coming. Mushog hadn't launched himself as well as she did, and found that without momentum, he wasn't going to get himself up. Now he looked back, and saw the not-so-distant bodies of a larger pack of wolves than he'd ever seen mustered in one place, heading for the break in the trail they just made.

"Fuck!" he yelled, and once more made a grab for the branch. To his surprise, there was a pale hand grasping above him.

"Come on!" the tark barked. "Take my hand!"

Without thinking, Mushog grabbed her wrist and let her help him scramble up into the tree. It didn't register for a bit that she did most of the work.

"Now you," she called down to Kurbag, who stood there nearly gasping his last breath. He kept staring at the tree, unable to move. Her voice lowered to a soothing cadence. "Come on, gimme your hand. You can do this. Believe me, the alternative is worse. Let's go, now."

Kurbag blinked up at her, swallowed hard, and took her hand. She wasn't particularly gentle in hauling him up, but she managed to get him off the ground.

"All right, guys, keep going up," she said in a businesslike fashion. "Those fuckers jump." And she began to climb.

"Mine," Mushog hissed at Kurbag.

"I'm gonna be sick," the half-Uruk breathed, clutching the tree trunk tightly.

"Move it!" the tark yelled down at them. "Maybe White Hand Orcs can't jump, but hungry pissed wolves sure as fuck can!"

"Can't!" Kurbag snapped. He was shaking hard.

"You great hairy twat, get your fucking ass up the god damned tree!" the tark roared.

At that moment, the ground below them filled to capacity with wolves. The cacophany of their barks and howls was deafening. The ones closest to the tree began jumping for the low-hanging fruit frozen in terror just within reach.

Squirming and shimmying down to his level, the tark grabbed Kurbag by the hair and bounced his forehead off the tree trunk sharply. "Snap out of it! One of them almost got you! A couple more feet won't kill you, moron, but staying here sure as fuck will!"

Grabbing the back of his shirt, she hauled and pulled, urging him with a stunning variety of descriptive phrases, none of them flattering, to climb a bit higher. Kurbag's fear turned to anger, and he moved up a few more feet with the hope that he might get a swipe at the damn tark if he had a little less to worry about.

Mushog hadn't moved from his perch, watching the tark harrying Kurbag. His dick was so hard he thought he might explode if a breath of wind hit it. She didn't look anything like a Dunlander, nothing like an Easterling. She had a Gondor look about her, but only in coloring. Pale skin, dark eyes, and dark hair, so not from Rohan. In short, not at all one of the Men who allied with the White Hand or the Red Eye during the war. So why was she helping them?

Breathing a sigh of relief, the tark ascended to where Mushog was sitting and nigh collapsed in the crotch of a great branch.

"Phew!" she said with a sharp exhalation. "Wolves do not have a sense of humor, do they?"

Scanning her leather-clad body with hungry eyes, Mushog lamented that they were up a tree. That made things... difficult. "What were they chasing you for?"

Taking a deep breath to still her racing heart, she replied, "Threw rocks at'em. So sensitive."

Startled out of his leisurely examination and enticing imaginings, he frowned. "You threw rocks at them? What the fuck did you do that for?"

She shrugged half-heartedly. "I was bored."

"You could've got us killed!" he roared, suddenly furious. "Cause you were bored?"

"Haven't you done worse for less of a reason than that?" she asked mildly, arching her brow.

Dismissing her statement as if she hadn't said it, he thrust a clawed finger in her face and snarled, "You owe me."

"Do I?" she asked incredulously. "How do you figure that?"

"We had something to do, you know," he snapped. "Weren't just fuckin' around. Now we're stuck up a tree with a tark bitch and can't go nowhere for hours."

She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Huh. Didn't know you were there... didn't leave your asses to distract the wolves so I could get away... helped you both up the tree... but if you say I owe you..." Shrugging, she sighed, "All right." And she moved to sit on the branch he was astride, facing him, and began untying the laces of his breeches.

Taken completely by surprise, Mushog gasped, "Whuh...what're you doing?"

She grinned. "Paying a debt."

"In a fucking tree?"

Her hands quickly freed his cock and she smiled, admiring it for a moment. She looked him in the eyes. "Better hold on tight, then." Leaning down, she took him in her mouth.

While Mushog had stuck his cock in a lot of places, even the occasional mouth, he'd never gotten sucked off by someone who knew what they were doing, and was willing to have him.

He thought he'd died and gone to the sweetest dream imaginable.

She wasn't being quick about it, either. She teased with her tongue and varied her speed. She fondled his balls like a lover. Once he grabbed her head to push her down all the way, and her fist shot into his gut. Releasing him, she glared hotly. "Hands off or I puke in your trousers. Comprendé?" He blinked and nodded, grabbing the branch beside him and nearly crushing it. She snorted at him with satisfaction, then went back to work.

Glancing down, he realized Kurbag wasn't aware of what was happening. Though he was barely coherent himself, Mushog didn't want his mate to miss out on this. "Oi, Kurbag, will you look at this? Tell me I'm not dreaming."

Without turning, Kurbag growled, "I'm not moving. If I move, I'll fall outta this fucking tree."

"No, look at this, really, you'll thank... thank... fuck... uunnngh... thank yourself," he gasped. She was getting him close. Any minute now and he'd come...

"Don't know what the fuck your problem is," Kurbag muttered as he slowly turned his head. He feared sudden movements would make him lose his grip and fall. That the ground was seething with two dozen wolves was almost an afterthought. His eyes widened. "What the fuck is going on up there?" he bellowed.

Mushog's slack-jawed expression, blissful whimpers and feral grunts weren't nearly as shocking as the tark's head bouncing on the Uruk's cock. Kurbag had nothing further to say. There just wasn't enough air in his lungs to push a single word out.

When Mushog came, he came hard, feeling it all the way down to his toes. They were curling in his boots. His entire body stiffened and went completely limp. If he hadn't been astride a thick branch with the trunk of the tree behind him, he would have fallen right out. And not cared. Not at all.

With powerful tugs, she sucked the last of his seed from his cock before sitting up. A trickle of black semen ran from the corner of her mouth, and she licked it off. "Now then," she purred, "I trust that makes us even."

It took a couple seconds for Mushog to get enough breath to answer. "Yeah. Even."

Smiling indulgently, she tucked him into his breeches and retied the laces with gentle hands. "Name?" she asked, arching her brow.

"Muh... Mushog," he gasped.

"Shannon," she replied, then stuck a hand out. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mushog."

He reached out and took hold of her hand, yanking her toward him. Her hand shot out and hit the tree next to his head, preventing herself from being pulled completely off-balance. She looked him hard in the eyes, smile gone. "Mind your manners, 'Shog. I can kill you six different ways right now. Your piss-poor friend down there can't do a thing to help you. Don't imagine I haven't had to deal with grabby Uruk-hai before you."

"Hey, if you're done up there," Kurbag called hopefully, "got any left for me?"

Narrowing her eyes at Mushog, she turned slightly to address Kurbag. "Ukh htolat latobgur. Lat skûm zash Golug."

Indignation at her resistance forgotten, Mushog laughed loudly at his friend's expense. Then he sobered. "That... that was the Isengarder tongue. Where'd you learn that?"

Sitting straight, she regarded him for a moment, then shrugged. "My shieldbrothers taught me."

"Shieldbrothers?" Mushog said. His eyes narrowed. "What shieldbrothers?"

Shannon gave him a strange look, as if she were peeling his head open and fiddling around with his brains. "They survived Helm's Deep, barely. I helped them out. We got... close." Her tone and expression didn't invite more probing. Mushog missed the signals entirely.

"How close?" he leered. Her stoney look was all the answer he got. "Where are they now?"

Her eyes hardened even more. "Killed by Men," she said slowly. Anyone with sense would have shut up.

"Didn't get you, I see," Mushog pressed on stupidly. "What happened there?"

He never saw it coming. Her fist shot out like a striking snake and connected with his throat so sharp and hard he thought he'd choke to death. He couldn't even strike back; his hands were too busy massaging his neck.

"Hey!" Kurbag yelled. She shot him a furious look, as though his opinion was not welcome and carried no weight.

"Mind your own affairs, Elf-fucker," she snarled, then turned her attention back to Mushog.

"You'll... pay for... for that," he gasped.

"Always wanting to be paid for shit you did to yourself, huh?" she smirked. "Here's some advice: when I give you this look," she said, glaring hard at him, "you'd best shut your pie hole. And don't think you can best me, either. I've had to knock the heads of three horny Uruk-hai at once. I've got moves you wouldn't believe."

Mushog's eyebrows rose a trifle. "Three? At once?"

One side of her mouth quirked a touch in a slight smile. "Good times," she sighed wistfully. "Good times."

Translation:

Ukh htolat latobgur. Lat skûm zash Golug. = Go fuck yourself. You smell like Elf.