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by gashew Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Interactive · Erotica · #1644117
Horde chicks know how to stink.
This choice: Maybe it's best not to anger her. Play it cool and agree.  •  Go Back...
Chapter #3

Maybe it's best not to anger her. Play it c...

    by: gg Author IconMail Icon
The scared nodding of yours told Anka that you were intimidated by her, as you had never seen such a vile, green beast, so tall and strong before, looking capable to break you in two like a twig.

This made Anka feel more confident in the situation, feeling the control she had over you, making her smile and get more relaxed as she sat her ass down in a chair to the right side of your tied up body.

She landed in the seat with a crashing boom, showing you how big, heavy and muscular her bum was, which probably would have broken your skull into pieces if your head had laid there, she even wiggled it a bit to get comfy in the seat.
She sighed with relief after a long day of marching and labor, laying back into the chair and spread her legs too. Stretching them nice and good.
She untied her chest plate and pulled it off with great effort, and as it fell off in a swift yank, a steam cloud emerged from her sweaty inners, her poor breasts had been crammed in there for way too long, and now she tried to give them some fresh air by flapping her open tunic that covered them, waving the fabric back and forth to ventilate them the trapped air.

“Stupid, hot armor, making me sweat and boil in the heat as I work my ass off every day, and then there you’re, doing nonthing, while still getting food and rest! How are you going to make it up for soldiers like me who provides for you?”
You were silent and visible repulsed by the sicken smell coming from her musky body, but unfortunate for you, she wasn't finished opening up the rest of her package.



Next were her huge, leather boots with iron casing, which were only something people should wear in cold, snow landscapes, but had nonetheless been worn in the sunbaking, barren country of Thousand Needles. Anka had no trouble getting her foot up, as her feet had been absolutely marinated in sweat, grease and bacteria throughout her long day of labor, making her feet glide out smoothly like they were covered in butter.
As she pulled them up, the most stinging, toxic and foul smell hit your nose and filled the entire tent as if a dead, rotting skunk had died in there while eating onions that had gone bad weeks ago. You couldn’t believe that such a creature would betray all standards of decency by producing such an unbelievable, slimy and biohazardous zone of filth with her feet alone, her boots were ruined and soiled unusable by her own festering feet that emitted such a potent and stinky odor that plants would wither if she just spread her toes.
Anka could poison entire villages’ water supply single handedly by dipping her disgusting feet into the rivers and lakes, turning the waters into bubbling, stinky, green mess and choking its fishes with her nasty, germ-ridden, moist soles.

“I have an idea!” Anka said while rasing her left foot: “YOU can clean my soles after all this walking I have been doing.” Your eyes got wide and her words made you body stiffen in fear as Anka began getting really into her thought of you cleaning her green stinkers.

“Yes… that would do! After all this exhausting work I have been doing while you have just been sitting around all day, the least thing you could do is giving my feet a good cleaning!”

As Anka began moving her left foot to your head, you turned it from side to side in panic, as if somebody was about to spoon-feed you something you didn’t like at all. The smell got stronger and stronger until the moist, sweaty source was pressed against your face, engulfing its surface as Anka grinded her foot against it.

“Lick it, slave, or I will break your skull!” Anka applied pressure to your head, pressing it harder against the pole you were tied to, making you whimper as the pain stinged badly and increased as she put a bit more strength in her step.
To your relief she let go, but you knew it was only a warning shot, so with fear of your life you began eagerly licking the nasty, rough soles that had just tried to kill you seconds ago.

Anka smiled, you had made a wise choice, and it pleased her greatly to feel wet, gliding strokes grace her fat, greasy pad. It was fucking awful for you, having no way to cover your poor nose, which was invade with piercing fumes that made your insides turn and twist, and giving you a sweltering feeling of throwing up, as you continuously gagged from the festering feet while simultaneously serving them.

Then another command came from Anka:
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