Monster Girl Imagines

Mo'Gara (The Orc) PT2

(Warnings: uh a large combo with an extra side of gay)

(Nighttra gotchu girl, since your notifications committed aliven't)

Her tusks graze against your neck, her strong hands holding you against her sinewy body.

Your head falls back, and you moan, your fingers digging into her shoulders. Mo'gara snarls, finding the nearest wall and shoving you against it,

Her assault over your throat ceases as she trails her lips down to your collarbone, her hands reach forward to rip open your shirt, the fabric standing no chance against her brute strength.

Ever tighter, your legs coil around her waist, pulling her flush against your core with desperation. Mo'gara chuckles, the sound rumbling in her throat and sending chills down your spine.

"Do you care for this?" She asks, slipping her finger underneath your bra strap and snapping it back onto your skin.

You feign amusement, raising a brow in question to her previous actions.

"I did care for that shirt..."

Mo'gara looks entirely unapologetic, frowning in almost a mocking way.

"Shame..."

Trailing her hands underneath the bra, she brings it above your head, and you raise your arms, allowing her to slip it off and throw it aside.

"One thing you should know, little one..." She moves to remove her tank-top, lifting it above her head and revealing her hardened abs and muscled torso.

"Us orcs are natural plunderers." Her hands ghost over your breasts, the roughness of her fingers a pleasant contrast to the softness of your skin.

"And we take what we want." Her tusks nip at the skin on your chest while her hands move to your ass, holding you up without a struggle.

Her tongue comes out, licking a broad stripe over your nipple before her mouth began to suckle over the nub, her tongue gliding against it, the sharpness of her tusk a constant reminder of how delicate she was being.

Your fingers tangle in her Auburn locks, encouraging and pleading for more.

You close your eyes, head tilting back against the wall as she takes her sweet time with you, kissing over every inch of your skin before moving lower and tearing your pants from your skin, not caring for the damages and instead entirely focused on the prize that laid beneath them.

You were almost ashamed to say you liked it; the show of her power was something that had your heart skipping a beat, and you even desired she would use her strength against you.

Abruptly, she pauses, seeming to concern over something for a moment.

You catch her gaze, playing with the baby hairs on the back of her neck.

"Is everything alright?" You speak gently, unsure if it was something you did.

Mo'gara nods and sighs heavily, looking off to the floor.

"Before we continue, I want you to know something." She looks off to the side and breathes in, placing you in suspense while she carefully thinks over her words.

"When I was born-" She looks down, trying to think over how to describe it.
"I was born in a metaphorical box, a box that was labeled as 'male.'

You take the time to understand, nodding along once you figured it out.

"But as I grew older, I realized that I did not fit or feel comfortable with the box I was put into..." She pauses, glancing up at you for your reaction.

Listening closely, you continue to play with her hair; it was a situation in which you knew people went through but have not faced yourself, so you try your best to offer physical encouragement.

"...At first, I felt weird; no one I knew had experienced what I was going through, and it was a while until I realized what box fit me best."

You lean forward and kiss her, her tusks scratching against your cheek as she returns to gesture.

It was sweet and quick, a silent acceptance of her before you pull back, smiling.

"Mo'gara." You start, ensuring her gaze laid on you, "I like you, and with me liking you, that means I accept you, and I am comfortable with continuing with the courting." Your trail your fingers over her shoulder and down her arm, caressing the muscle of her bicep.

"Are there any boundaries you would like to set before we continue?" You inquire, wishing her the utmost comfort with the following actions.

She laughs and shakes her head, leaning in and nuzzling your neck with her tusks.

"No, but we should come up with a safe word..." She pretends to think, humming against the kind of your neck while her tongue slides over the skin.

Your heart skips a beat, and you sigh contently, eyes falling shut at the sensation.

"What about-!" You squeak at the sensation of her teeth biting down on the skin just beneath your ear- "we use...green as!" Another bite to your skin, and you gasp, gripping onto her shoulders for leverage. "As a check-in! Method...and yellow for discomfort," she causes just over your jugular, her tusks digging into the soft flesh while the sentence dies on your tongue.

"So, green, yellow, and red." She questions, glancing up at you for confirmation, to which you nod.

Unexpectedly, she hoists you over her shoulder, now learning the right words in case things went too far, and carries on down the hall, laughing heartily at your surprised squeak over the action.

Her lumbering steps creak the floorboards beneath her feet, an astounding 'thump' following with her mass form. There was no way you were getting out of her grasp, even if playfully.

Mo'gara strides into her bedroom, the handcrafted mahogany lining her walls with intricate symbols carved into it as well as the pelts of her most difficult hunts.

Axes of different shapes and sizes showcase just above the crackling fireplace beside the doorway, reminding you of just how dangerous Mo'gara was.

The soft glint of her candles and fireplace creating a cozy and inviting atmosphere, with African blackwood making out the frame of her luxurious feathered mattress, you could see several bear pelts which she used as blankets.

She carefully places you on her bed, laying you out like a prize before her, your weight sinking into the soft mattress before she stands at the foot of it and strips of her clothes, flexing as she does so and offering you a show of her strength.

You can't help but stay locked on her structured hips and the hardened lines between her chiseled abs; your urge to praise her for the magnificence she was becomes a reality as you sit up to grab her hips, your fingers grazing over the band of her boxers.

Her green skin glistened under the dim light, her breathing obeying her rapid heartbeat as pure desire flows through her.

Your tongue comes from your mouth, and you lick a broad stripe over her stomach and then kiss across the taut muscle, your fingers toying with the lining of her boxers as you gaze up at her, watching the way her eyes flicker and how strongly she tries to control herself.

Your hand comes up to palm the hardened bulge at the front of her boxers, running your thumb over the tip while she bucks against you, growling low in her throat.

Your only goal was to make her beg for you, to see her powerful, dominating form submit to you entirely, an incoherent mess of babbling pleas, and in due time, you would have that.

(Do y'all want another chapter? Let me know, and you'll finally be able to "top" Mo'gara ;))