The Jungles of Lower Arcadus - 657 AD

Shel was not having a good time, that thrice damned group of adventurers had dragged her halfway across the known world to this goddess forsaken realm with promises of glory and riches. Instead, they had spent months hiking through sweltering jungle from outpost to outpost only to find out that the lost treasure of Grogwarvich had been found and claimed only a week after they had set sail and on another continent to boot. There had been precious little glory either, she had hardly killed more than a handful of men on this trip and the lack of bandits was beginning to bore her. She had half the mind to take up banditry herself, if only to show the locals how it was done.

At least the locals really enjoyed a good fucking. Her exotic nature and the Orc reputation had keep her well in both male and female company, she had proudly left behind more than a few shattered pelvic bones and ruined marriages in the towns they had been through. That was how an orc should live, fucking and fighting.

The party had decided to go its separate ways, A few elected to go deeper inland pursuing a rumor of a lost city, some had made their way to the coast hoping to stow away on a ship heading home. Shel planned on joining them shortly, however she needed a break from this humid hell first or she was going to go berserk.

Fortunately, she had found the closest thing to a mage on this continent in a Jungle Elf village along the river Pyxs. The self-proclaimed "shaman" had seemed more like a witch to Shel, the little elf women sat in studied repose as she smoked a long pipe of some combination of funny smelling herbs. 

Shel wanted to go somewhere nice, preferably a large camp, with lots of human men. Human males were easy to lay and even easier to separate from their gold. It needed to be somewhere there would be food, mead and especially a bath, Orcs weren't big on hygiene but three months in a Jungle can make even the most stubborn orc beg for soap.

The key was a portal spell, a temporary hop to over to this camp for her to refresh and recharge and then she would be ready for the long voyage home. The Shaman claimed to know the portal spell well and after a few drinks was willing to trade the spell and some of the funny smelling herbs in exchange for some of Shel's "services" 

The Shaman wasn't hard on the eyes, so Shel readily agreed. But between her overall fatigue and the rotgut she'd consumed it wasn't her most energetic lay, she had only managed to work one orgasm out of the young elf.

Even though she had complained that the orgasm wasn't as "big" as she expected, the elf had agreed that a deal was a deal, especially after Shel threatened to eat her face off.

Exhausted, Shel slept well through the night and into the next afternoon. She arose when her stomach grumble woke her up, disappointingly the only food she had was a shred of jerky that only made her more hungry. The beginning pangs of a hangover convinced her to finish off the costrel of cheap rotgut in the hopes of chasing the hangover until later. As she made her way to a clearing, Shel decided to try smoking some of the elven herbs on the way. They made her pleasantly buzzed, horny and unfortunately seemed to redouble her hunger.

Arriving at the clearing, she broke the seal on the totem the Shaman had given her. With a sound of thunder and a bright flash portal sprang to life, Shel eagerly stepped through.

Fort Dickerson Kansas - 2042 AD

The dimensional rift slowly began to form just outside the base perimeter. Black lighting crackled in the sky as humid winds began to blow from the rapidly growing sphere.

At the first sign of trouble the base Quick Response Force platoon had scrambled, the combined force of VTOL drones, light infantry and Fast Attack Vehicles was well equipped to deal with most incursions. It didn't take long for them to arrive at the boarder of the strange phenomenon. The vehicles dispersed in a herringbone formation before cautiously reforming line abreast. Their 25mm autocannons trained towards the the sphere, ready to form a base-of-fire for when the platoon dismounted. The black lighting seemed to increase in intensity, a solid pillar of light briefly formed stretching from the ground into the stratosphere, temporarily blinding all observers.

As the light began to dissipate, the infantry were ordered to dismount. 2nd Lieutenant Ryan Powers eagerly surged forth to command his men before stopping in his tracks, he couldn't believe his eyes. Standing in the middle of the field was a fever dream combination of his nightmares and teenage sexual fantasy.

The women, if he could call it that, had skin of a dark olive shade of green, it was marred by many scars and crossed by intricate black and blue tribal tattoos that seemed to cover much of her arms and the sides of her face.

Her body was quite muscular, veins were clearly visible through her skin, but she was still shapely with large breasts, thick powerful thighs and a well-shaped, plump behind. Sweat glistened across her toned abs and gave her generous cleavage a pleasant shine. Thick, greasy raven black hair in matted dreads flowed from the top of her head but the sides were roughly shaven.

The eyes were a deep shade of orange, almost red, and they seemed to hint at mischievous intent. A polished bone brow piercing split one of her thick bushy eyebrows, the other was bisected by a scar that continued down across her eye. A rough iron ring that looked more appropriate on a cow, pierced the septum of her button nose. Elongated ears came to a point, pieced on multiple times by various colored rings, with two stone gauges in the lobes. Two prominent yellowed tusks emerged from the bottom of plump dark green lips. Save for the unusual features it was an attractive feminine face.

She was dressed in a seemingly primitive manner, her clothing seemed to be made out of various scraps of crude fabrics, rough leather and blood-stained animal furs. None of it seemed to offer much protection from the weather, let alone weaponry and all of it looked soiled.

A loincloth helped preserved her modesty, though underneath a yellowed linen undergarment seemed to form the most primitive of thongs. A tattered leather bra seemed to strain under the pressure of her bosom, a thin brown cloak rested on her shoulders. A belt held a small sheathed knife and a few pouches. A necklace of teeth hung around her neck and other trinkets adorned her body. Mud caked, furred leather boots were topped by cloth puttee wraps.

Overall, she looked gorgeous if bedraggled. He might even consider bedding her if it weren't for the fact that she looked like she didn't know what a bath was.

And if she wasn't 800 foot tall.

As Shel eyes slowly adjusted, she began to take stock of her situation. It was immediately obvious that stupid witch had crossed her. Though her sensitive nose told her the area reeked of human males (unusually clean ones at that) the settlement spread out before her was far too small for that. It was too small for the fae or even the small borrowers that lived in the walls of Ulgrads cities.

Still, she wanted to make the best of a bad situation and decided it would be nice to air out after being in the stifling jungle. She squatted down and unwrapped the cloths that kept the mud out of her boots. Standing on one foot at a time she pulled the tight leather boots off, letting her feet breath for the first time all day. The odor emitting from her sweaty feet almost eclipsed that of her armpits, but the soil felt great on her feet. Next, she removed her cloak, the air felt good on her skin, she could already feel some of the sweat start to cool. As she bent over to drape her cloak over the tops of her boots, she noticed a few dozen bugs scurrying about. A brief stomach grumble convinced her to snatch them up.

Shel brought them closer to her face, not quite believing her own eyes as to the nature of the weird bugs. She sniffed her palm gently to confirm, human males.

Her mouth began to salivate and she had a bemusing thought.

A pity, they clearly were human warriors of some kind, if she were smaller, she might have had a decent fight on her hands. Now all that hard work and training was just seasoning for a pathetically small amount of protein.

Lt. Powers had been frozen in awe like the rest of his men when the strange alien woman gathered them up with practiced ease. Her hand rose rapidly, the G forces pinned him and his men to warm flesh that smelled strongly of dirt, sweat and stale feminine secretions. Her face filled his world as she looked down on them, her cruel smile parted, stale humid breath, some of the worst he ever smelled. It was like dogs breath, beer, marijuana and pussy had gang banged poor oral hygiene in a hot wet dumpster. 

He barely had time to wretch before a wide pink slimy tongue emerged from between her yellowed tusks and lapped up him and his men.

Shel swished the humans around in her mouth. They certainly weren't the first human males she'd had in her mouth and they tasted miles better than the unwashed cocks she was used to. She closed her eyes and sucked and savored them for a few moments, a loud moan emanated from her mouth

Mmmmmmmmmm

Unconsciously she fondled her breasts with one hand as the other crept between down towards her crotch. A loud buzzing sound prompted her to open her eyes, a strange contraption buzzed near her head.

It must be their friends, Shel thought, might as well let them say goodbye.

She briefly thrust out her tongue at the drone, proudly displaying the 42 men of the QRF platoon who were splayed out along the wide organ, mired in her thick saliva. One poor soul, a Private, clung helplessly to her tongue piercing. The VTOL drone, uncaring of their humiliating predicament, auto zoomed in on their faces briefly, capturing the fear, disgust and pathetic screams of the men in ultra-high definition.

The drone zoomed out just in time to catch the glistening organ retract behind her luscious lips.

Raising her hand from breast, Shel waved flirtatiously with her fingers as she stared directly at the little machine. Then with a smug, teasing smile she swallowed the squirming human warriors in an exaggerated manner, a brief bulge noticeable as they were dragged screaming down her throat. She licked her lips briefly as she lowered her hand from waving to rub her stomach, her other hand now fondling herself beneath her loin cloth. 

A small but unfeminine belch escaped her lips and she couldn’t help but giggle. In her raspy voice she spoke in High Imperial, a language she hoped the humans understood, 

YUUMMMM, TASTY! 

She would never know but a leaked clip of her provocative little display would soon be a #1 trending video on Pornhub, to the complete humiliation of the Army.

Even as the bulge that was their comrades was still squirming its way down her throat, the FAVs reacted.

25mm auto cannon fire streaked out towards the young Orc, gently tickling her inner thigh. Rounds designed to penetrate the frontal armor of the latest Eurasian Block IFVs failed to penetrate even her outermost layer of skin. The FAVs began to retreat as they fired, partially out of fear and but also because their weapon couldn't elevate any further. 

Shel reacted with mild bemusement and simply stepped on them. The composite armor offered little resistance to the weight of her foot; the various vehicles being perceived as a delightful crunch. Several of them conformed so perfectly with her damp soles that they stuck to them, the liquefied remains of their crew aiding in the adhesion. With the Vanguard effortlessly defeated, Shel casually strolled further into the base, taking care to squish anything that moved.

B company, 5043rd Infantry battalion had managed to break into the armory and were still passing out ammo when Shel came upon them, they reflexively opened fire on the young orc. Bemused by their intransigence, Shel briefly hovered her foot over them, giving them a view of the smashed corpses of hundreds of their comrades that already decorated her soles. Then she had a better idea. Bending down, she displayed her prominent cleavage and pursed her lips before spitting onto the frantic soldiers. A lucky few were killed immediately on impact; most however began to slowly drown in the yellow tinted saliva.  Unable to break the surface tension of the slowly spreading spit glob, the warm thick liquid invaded their mouths, its sour taste shocking many into swallowing it. They soon drowned, like flies trapped in amber. Shel moved on, already forgetting her pathetic spit victims.

Circling her way around the base, she stamped out groups of resistance beneath her powerful feet, stopping occasionally to pick up anything curious for further inspection. Most of this she tossed away but anything that looked valuable went her coin purse and anything (or more accurately anyone) that looked edible went into her mouth. By the time she was done most of the structures had been flattened, all routes of escape had been damaged and any resistance was now either insignificant blood splotches on her increasingly dusty feet or slowly digesting in her stomach.

In the center of the base were the only buildings left standing, 20 massive barracks. Fort Dickerson was one of the Army's major regional recruit training centers. Formed in response to the increased manpower requirements of the new cold war, it processed more than 100,000 new recruits every ten weeks. It was only a few days in to a new cycle and was at full capacity.

Shel could smell them.

Young males just barely of breeding age. Her loins stirred, throbbing for attention. 

But she could also smell fear, pathetic groveling fear. It activated something primal, her mouth began to water and her stomach growled, yearning to be filled. 

The combination of scents was enthralling.

She bent down and ripped part of one building out of the ground, surprisingly it came up intact. She shook the structure out onto her palm and thousands of little men came tumbling out along with a cacophony of debris and furniture.

Staring down at them with a scowl, her stomach let out an eager grown.

This wouldn't do.

18-year-old recruit Mark Evers was scared, he had been hiding under his bunk with 4 other recruits since the attack started. He was a draftee; he had no desire to fight the Eurasians or anyone else for that matter. The barracks had gone into lockdown, nobody was getting in or out.

Suddenly his whole world shook and great G-forces pinned him to the floor, He could see blue sky where a printcrete wall was only moments before. Then suddenly the whole building shook violently again and he impacted a soft green surface at a speed which left him stunned. Debris and other recruits surrounded him. He barely had time to catch his bearings when all sense of gravity left and he found himself enveloped by a warm purple glow.

Remembering a simple spell she had learned long ago to clean slime, blood and other nastiness off loot she hummed it quickly to herself. To her delight the little men levitated above the debris, allowing her to discard the junk and guide their measly forms onto her waiting mouth. 

Several thousand men pooled on her tongue were hardly a morsal, the vaguely warm mass writhed in mortal panic, the closest sensation she could compare it to was the last pathetic spurt of a spent lover. Still, it danced with flavor: warm meatiness, salt, the palpable taste of their fear highlighted by perhaps...a hint of arousal?

"That couldn't be right" Shel thought briefly, but she realized that for many of them this was probably their first encounter with a women’s mouth and her breath, however rancid was that of a lover. "I'll show these little letches that a real women swallows" she thought with a grin.

Mark had no Idea what was going on, one moment he was floating in front of the grinning face of a giant alien woman, the next he was falling forward onto her wide pink tongue. His fatigues were completely soaked in her saliva and it was difficult to breath in the thick humid air. Her breath was fowl, closer to a dog that ate its own shit than anything human. From the bit of saliva that had invaded his mouth it was clear she was a smoker just like his ex. Despite his overwhelming fear of being eaten and disgust at the rancid environment he found himself in, this realization sparked an unwelcome arousal. Without warning the tongue suddenly undulated, pinning him to its slimy surface. Mark found himself being dragged with thousands of others down her throat. He had no way of knowing his ex would later laugh upon hearing of his fate and get a tattoo of Shel, to commemorate his demise.

Shel began to feast, Orcs had a tremendous appetite by nature and her lean body, toned by months in the jungle craved protein above all else. The herbs she had smoked, the drinking on an empty stomach further stoked her hunger to a near insatiable level. If this were an eating contest, Shel would be a champion contestant. Ravenously she began to tear buildings apart, levitating her squirming prey directly into her mouth to be swallowed whole and living like the grub worms of her youth. Thousands squirmed their way down her throat to be digested in her growling stomach, all the while the next group was being played with by her tongue.

She quickly discovered the most efficient way to her meal was to take her knife and peel the roof off intact, this technique enabled her to ravenously eat her way through 4 barracks before her pace could slow. 

She began to toy with her food, tossing group of hundreds in the air and catching them with her tongue, dozens of little splat marks graced her cleavage, a brutal testament to her inaccuracy. She tried chewing a group, though she enjoyed the irony taste of their blood it felt unnecessary, like chewing gruel.

She would levitate others in front of her and pluck up individuals, letting them stick to her tongue. Sometimes she would suck them in, swallowing as she went, an unbroken chain of scared men being slurped up almost like a noodle. 

She decided to tease one group, levitating them in front of her mouth to see their friends and comrades on her tongue before she sealed them off beyond her lips and swallowed them all alive, lowering her audience to watch the bulge that was their friends disappear down her throat. Then she would move them to her stomach, the vague screams and yells almost faintly audible. Leaving them floating there, Shel turned around and spread her cheeks, giving them a good long look at her tight puckered asshole. 

"You are nothing but food now, gaze upon the gateway to your afterlife fools" she yelled back at them.

As she turned back around to look over them, she could tell the group had understood as their fear turned to anger. She took a moment to laugh at them and bask in their helplessness, then swallowed them just like the rest and continued eating.

It was with a contented belch that she finished off the 7th barracks, resting her hands on her slightly bulged stomach, plump with the 35,657 recruits she had consumed. She enjoying the vague sensation of her still living meal writhing inside her, knowing all their struggles were for naught.

Shel yawned; it was about time for a nap but first she had to secure her little morsels. There were 13 of the strange little longhouses left and she didn't intent to let a single man escape. She dug a trench in soil, small to her but surely massive to these pathetic specks. Then tearing apart the remaining structures she levitated her food gently down into the trench, by the time she got to the last building the trench was full, so she decided to divided them equally between her boots. 

Orc feet were widely considered some of the most pungent around, their stink being somewhere between rotten cheese and fermented horse piss. After months in the jungle without a bath, Shel’s may have been the smelliest to have ever existed, and those boots had soaked up every last bit of their essence. Shel did not envy the boot boys but her inner bully was enjoying their fate. She gagged a few times herself at her potent stench and humidity coming off them, then she stuffed her tattered sweat-soaked old foot wrappings down on top of them to seal off their escape...and any fresh air.

To prevent those terrified thousands huddling in the trench from escaping, Shel draped her cloak over the top, itself a grimy old cloth that smelled of rancid body odor, years of grime and sweat had made it practically airtight. Just as she laid the last corner a rumble in her guts gave her a devious idea. Sitting down she scooted her butt over the lip of the trench, pulling her cloak to her back to form a seal.

"Your friends want to say hi" she mocked.

BRAAAPPPPPBBPHHH! The force of her fart knocked most of the men flat, throwing an unlucky several dozen closest to the epicenter up to bounce off her cloak back into the trench. Shel quickly scooted away and reformed the seal formed by her cloak over the trench. She could tell it was a potent one, its origin having to do more with the old cheese, sour ale and fermented cabbage the witch had fed her yesterday than any of their comrades. Those miserable worms would now have to stew in it, sealed up like a Dutch oven. 

Shel laughed at her own twisted joke, then wrested her head on some rubble and began to take a contented nap.