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Azof and the Cult of the Scorpion Goddess	By : kspence Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Het - Male/Female Views: 2995 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-1.
- 2-2.
- 3-3.
- 4-4.
- 5-5.
- 6-6.
- 7-7.
- 8-8.
- 9-9.
- 10-10.
- 11-11.
- 6
- 7
- 8
They’d reached the final panel in the series and with her story told, the third priestess began leading Azof away from the carvings. He followed her through the main part of the chamber, into one of a series of bowers, or alcoves, or cubicles that lined the side wall there. The bower was a small space - full of colour, with richly-decorated hangings on the walls and patterned rugs and cushions lining the floor. The girl lit a candle in a glass-covered shade and sat down gracefully cross-legged.
“Now, as for you,” she said to Azof, “what do you desire? Should I bring to you desert sweetmeats? Jewelled grains, the fattened ortolan -”
“Nah,” Azof said, cutting her off and shaking his head. “Thanks and everything, but I had me bite a’ scran before I come out.”
The priestess regarded him blankly.
“I mean I’m not ‘ungry. On account I’ve - already et’.”
“Then perhaps a drink of wine –“
“Cheers, thanks - but wiv’ them two on the razzle” – he pointed at Narkul and his lady friend, who were smoking a shared pipe, and then over the distant dinner table on which Rugratz was lying face down, having passed out in between bouts of stuffing his face - “prob’ly best if I try an’ keep a clear head.”
“Milk of the poppy?” the young priestess offered. “Flower of hemp?”
Azof rocked back and forth on his heels and cleared his throat. “Maybe bit later on, eh?”
“What is it, then,” the girl said, showing only the slightest touch of irritability, “that for you, at this time, would be your greatest wish – your one, true desire?”
Azof thought about that for a moment, and shrugged. What he wanted to do wasn’t a question he tended to get asked, much. “Well - I dunno,” he said. “M’not all that fussed, really. So...so what’s your desire, then?”
“I wish only to be found worthy to serve,” the young priestess said, replying so quickly it was like she’d already had in mind her answer to the question.
“Is that right? Really? Us lot don’t wish to serve – we ain’t got no choice. ‘It’s yer lot mate,’ an’ that’s that.’ You could say we was born to it.”
“As was I,” the woman said. “I have wanted to serve in the Queen of Light’s temple since I was a young girl.”
Azof lowered himself down to the floor and sat beside her. “And you serve her by...?”
“Chanting. And prayer. And, not least, by serving the wishes of Her honoured guests. Visitors such as yourself.”
“Pull the other one! You really reckon us lot are ‘honoured guests’?”
“Yes.”
“Well then,” Azof said sceptically, “if it’s serving me wishes you’re after, I wish the two of us could just sit here for a bit – dead comfy cushions, by the way, and maybe –“
“Yes?”
“Maybe we could ‘ave a bit of a chat.”
The girl was perplexed. “Chat?” she repeated, slowly.
“You know – we could talk about…all sorts of stuff. Get to know each ovver a bit, couldn’t we?”
“Your wish is only - to talk?”
“Yeah! Like...you could tell me….what’s your name, an’ that?”
“My name is Yildiz,” the young woman said.
“Ill-deez?”
“Yes.”
They sat together on the nice floor cushions for a minute.
Azof crossed and uncrossed his legs in front of him and twisted his ankles together and fidgeted.
At length Yidiz added -“it is our word for ‘star’.”
“Oh! S’triffic. I’m - Azof. Azof’s not our word for – anythink special, really.”
Another pained silence stretched between them. It went on for no small amount of time.
“Ooh. Ow.” Azof said eventually, digging his fingers into his thigh. “Huh! Charley horse. Better get up an’ stretch me legs.”
Turning his back on the girl Azof completed one or two of circuits of the decorated chamber, limping exaggeratedly on one foot. It didn’t take him long. What with all the cushions and bolsters and wall-hangings, there wasn’t a great deal of floor-space.
He was pretending to work an imaginary crick out of his back when all at once Yildiz accosted him. The girl jumped to her feet, dashing towards him across the room.
“Here!” Azof exclaimed. “What the –“
Now she was pressing herself to Azof’s side. As he stood flummoxed, gawping down at her she hiked up on tip-toe and twined her arm around his chest. When she raised her other hand Azof thought he glimpsed a shining glint of metal – then felt a smart, sharp scratch at the back of his neck. The girl’s nimble fingers quickly started kneading over the injured place and a strange sensation started to spread outward from it: a feeling of numbness that was also weirdly – buzzing; all in all more than pleasant enough to make Azof forget his initial irritation.
In her mouth Yidiz was holding some kind of pale-coloured material: a paste. As she brought her hand round to her lips Azof saw her lick a thick streak of it onto her thumb. She swallowed the rest, closing her eyes, obviously savouring the sensation, and at the same time went back to massaging more of it into the little wound she’d made between Azof’s shoulder-blades. The strange stuff felt icy cold, in spite of the warmth of Yildiz’s body.
The young Orc noted all of this with a light-headed and increasingly euphoric sense of distraction.
“Ow!” he exclaimed belatedly, rubbing the sore-spot, but barely minding all the same.
Yildiz skipped sideways, smiling, bringing herself face to face with Azof. All at once she flung herself forwards, straight into the Orc’s embrace. Her arms reached around his neck and her leg snaked round his hip till she was clinging to him, legs clasped round his waist; climbing up him as if he was a tree.
Azof caught her and staggered back a step, thrown off-balance by her weight. Mentally he cursed his gauntlets and his heavy armour. He had both his hands on the girl, cupping tight around her arse and her breasts were squashing – right up against! his chest, but through the many layers of leather and metal he was wearing he wasn’t able to feel her body, much. Yildiz squeezed closer, still clinging to him. Her fingers went carding through Azof’s hair, playing for a moment with the pointed tip of his left ear – the Orc’s knees buckled slightly at the sweet, unexpected sensation -
“Ooooo!” Azof gasped. “Blimey, Yildiz, hold on a minute, crikey – “
He scrabbled at himself, trying to remove at least one of his gloves while simultaneously doing his best not to drop her – and it was difficult, the way she was wriggling herself all over him. With one hand free at last he clutched her as best he could as she squirmed deliberately against his midriff, pushing the V of her body downwards, bumping and rocking against his hips. He was finally, finally working his bare hand through the neckline of her dress - had only just managed to get his fingers round a softly squashy handful of breast and then it all became too much for him –
“Hnh! Guh- urgh!” Azof choked out a harsh, stuttering exclamation at the point of his climax as, with Yildiz still in his arms he collapsed to his knees, utterly caught short.
He was young, and his prick had gone hard pretty much the instant she’d started touching him. It was all too much and Azof was young, so chances are his prick would’ve been standing up hard even in the absence of any additional attention. But his senses had been full to the point of distraction, the feel of the soft, warm, weight of her in his arms, the sensation of Yildiz’s hands all over him and the scent of her silk-smooth skin. And then – then, when she’d wrapped herself round him, she’d been that close to him….Azof’s breath caught as he thought about how he’d even got to put his hand on, on one of her boobs, right there –
Azof snorted and quivered, shivering in his now slightly-more-revolting underclothes, feeling almost overcome, once again – but this time with utter mortification. Nevermind he’d finished before he even got started and that it had all been over much too quickly. Now even worse: what must Yildiz be thinking?
Face flooded with heat, Azof set the girl down. He hung his head, trying to hide his embarrassment.
“Yeah, that were –“ he began, rubbing at himself absently. “Not that I’m – I mean, I don’t….” his voice trailed off and he had to start again. “Thing is Yildiz, I gotta tell you, things like this don’t usually, well….’appen….”
He struggled on for a moment making his feeble excuses, trying to explain himself to Yildliz; Yildiz, who against all expectations was now regarding him with a good deal more interest than before.
“This is your first time?” she said. “Your first time with a woman?”
Azof bared his teeth in a sickly grin. “First time I’ve even seen a woman. An ‘uman one, I mean.”
“But you have lain with a woman of your own kind before?”
’Course I ‘ave, yeah!” Azof nodded suavely. “One time this girl, right? Said she was gonna let me put it in – an’ I nearly did, a little bit! Turns out she was only, well, only ‘olding it, up top between her legs, but –“
Yildiz frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“I suppose I mean -” Azof heard himself speaking, with every word making things worse, and wanted to stop yet for some reason simply could not manage to rein himself in.   “I suppose I might not’ve done it, exactly.”
“’Not exactly’?” the girl seemed affronted. “You can either say you have or you haven’t, I think.”
Azof shuffled his feet, wondering why he’d allowed his mouth to run away with him, wondering why, even now, he was unable to tell an untruth. “Well then. I suppose I ain’t.”
“This is a pity,” Yildiz said. She looked him up and down intently, head tilted on one side.
For some reason the girl had taken it into her head to come to stand in front of him – much too close in front of him – again.
“Here…..Azof,” Yildiz said, pausing for a moment, almost as if it had been a struggle for her to remember his name. “Come here.” She took hold of his hand and guided it up and under her clothes until it was resting lightly on her chest. “You would like to take off your other glove?”
The young Orc didn’t need telling twice. Grinning wide, he stripped his hand bare with his teeth.
“Now, your shoes.”
It was tricky, getting them unfastened, but there was no way he was willingly taking his left hand off her tit, and after an interval of unseemly contortion he managed to kick his boots free. One fell at his feet; the other went skittering off across the floor – Azof didn’t see where. He didn’t bother looking.
“This. It is too much, I think?” Yildiz suggested, so his leather surcoat and few pieces of plate armour also went, until the Orc was left in nothing but his undershirt and breeches. Yildiz had him remove the rest of his clothing in short order. Then, taking him by the hand, she led him back to the cushions on the other side of the chamber. She sat down cross-legged and pulled him along after.
Feeling terribly awkward in his nakedness Azof crouched beside the girl, fingers fidgeting with the tasselled end of the tie on her gown.
“So, er, Yildiz,” he began, “now you c’n see the goods. Got a good eyeful, haven’t you?”
The girl nodded, not comprehending.
Azof grimaced. Quite unconsciously he straightened his back, raised his chin on his rather short neck, and tried to square his shoulders a bit. “So? Well - go on, then! …..what’c’her think.”
“Oh.” Yildiz looked the stocky young Orc up and down, taking in his swarthy skin, tangled shock of dark, reddish hair, and then the breadth of his chest. Azof’s looks mightn’t have been much to write home about but he was brawny and broad and had a muscular physique, and was certainly built to impress. His appearance was quite beside the point from Yildiz’s perspective however, and she shrugged. “No doubt you represent a most excellent example of your type.”
Blinking with pleasure, Azof beamed back at her. “You think so, do you? Really? Yeah?”
“…yeah?” Yildiz echoed, nonplussed.
“I wondered for a minute! If – well, if maybe you thought that.”
“Did you?”
“Yeah! ‘Cause of the way you was – well, how you was all over me before.”
“Oh. That,” Yildiz replied.
“But then I thought it must be just ‘cause of you was high, or something, ‘cause you’re a pretty girl, lovely really, and I - ”
Yildiz brushed aside the clumsy attempt at a compliment. “What means ‘high’?”
“High? Oh, I mean like – high, on drugs. On that cold stuff you stuck my neck wiv’. I fink it’s – it must be making me extra talkative, too.”
“It can do that, and other things,” Yildiz confirmed.
“An’ I really wish I could shut up, Yildiz. Cause you’re gonna think I’m such a pratt -”
“It is a lot of talking,” the girl agreed. Lying back she untied the strings that held her wrapper closed and unfastened the front of her dress, letting it fall loosely open. “There is time,” she said. “Azof. Come here.”
A pained expression crossed the young Orc’s face. “No, no, see - I shot me load earlier, remember? When I come in me pants. Means I can’t – do anything for yer just yet, Yildiz - ”
“You can, if nothing else, look. Did you not say you have not looked upon a woman before?”
“Well yeah, but –“
“And you can talk. You like to talk, I think. Tell me about your Orcish girl. Was she your sweetheart?”
“Me – me what?” Azof broke off with a self-conscious laugh. “Oh! No - no, it wasn’t nuffink like that. She never liked me all that much, not really. Had me grog ration off me on a promise and then told me to shove it – pulled me cock right out and wouldn’t even let me finish. Went running off wiv’ some ovver poor tosser an’ that’s the last I seen of her.” The young Orc thought for a minute. “I suppose she must’ve been a prozzie, really. I s’pose that’s the only reason she went with me - ‘cause of she was on the game.”
“’Prozzie’?” Yildiz repeated doubtfully. “What is ‘prozzie’?”
“It means....she’d go wiv’ men – for money and that.”
“I know of this,” Yildiz nodded. “Sometimes, at the especial time of year, the priestesses of our temple make this kind of ritual too.”
“Ritual?” Azof said, raising a sceptical eyebrow. “I don’t fink I’ve ‘eard it called that before!”
“No? But these rituals we make are part of sacred rite!”
“Nah, they can’t be,” Azof scoffed. “Not sacred! ’Cause it’s dirty, innit? Guddling about in – you know. In women’s bits. S’a well-known fact. Everyone says.”
Now Yildiz was outraged. “Who would say this?”
Azof considered this, scratching his head. “Well, I s’pose the Tarks and all them say.”
“Tarks!” Yildiz said, with some disain. “Tchah! What do the men of the north know.”
“Well? Some of them lot’s....scholars, dead learned an’ everythink, so I s’pose they’re the ones should know. Like – “he thought for a moment.   “Like when they say us lot are vile an’ scum and you know deep down that they’re not wrong. But women’s bits? Oh no! They don’t think too much of women’s bits neither. You know what? Straight up. Their word for women’s bits is the dirtiest fing there is.”
“And you think this too?”
“Me? No, well, I ain’t a Tark so I ain’t got nuffink against prozzies,” Azof assured her quickly. “Or... or women’s bits. Fact is, I’d - love to have a go, guddling about wiv’ women’s bits. I would, really! It’s just I ain’t never had a proper chance, ‘ave I?”
Yildiz regarded him with angry, narrowed eyes. “Then prove it.”
“You what?”
“Prove yourself,” Yildiz said. “Prove to me you are no liar.”
Azof stared at her, shaking his head, bewildered. “Eh?”
******
It had to about the best thing ever Azof thought faintly, his face buried between Yildiz’s legs as she – more or less, after a fashion – showed him what he should do.   It was the best thing ever, and he’d never even wondered about the kind of things girls might like to do.
The way she had him, pinned down; weight bearing down on him on one side, her smooth golden thigh splayed out on the other - he couldn’t move much.
Didn’t matter.
It didn’t matter because Azof was exactly where he wanted to be. He was as aroused as he’d ever been, which was – bonkers to think about really, because no-one was even thinking about touching his dick – his dick which was still, to put things euphemistically, out of the game. Waiting on the side-lines, having itself a nice little rest. No, Azof’s dick wasn’t part of the process. This stuff – the fun stuff? It was bonkers, because the fun stuff was all going on entirely inside his head.
New vistas of understanding had started opening up for the young Orc – quite rapidly – from the moment that Yildiz, basically, jumped him. The mysteries of the female orgasm for example: admittedly a subject that hadn’t carried the barest sniff of mystery for Azof before, as he had not previously been aware that the female orgasm existed.
(And why would he? He was young; he was inexperienced; and he was an Orc - and moreover his meagre score of past sexual encounters had all been, in essence, transactions)
But now – now, Azof was beginning to catch on. Yildiz was clearly getting something – getting off on? – the stuff she was doing to him, and that meant….that meant Azof realized, thinking furiously that perhaps girl + adequately applied touch + pressure, could possibly =
Was that daft? Could girls maybe come off too? Azof felt dizzy at the thought of it.
Cause - yeah. Definitely she was getting off on it. Had to be! Even if it was – kind of weird, the way she was carrying on wiv’ all her - writhings and contortions, right on top of him. Right in his face. Yeah, it was nice, if a little weird. Azof felt...reasonably sure.
It might have been even…..more nice if he’d played a greater part in it, Azof considered – but not for some time afterwards; perhaps it would have been more nice if Yildiz had spoken to or even looked at him while they were about it; but in the moment he found he had absolutely no complaints.
In the moment Yildiz used him mercilessly, hands twisted to the point of pain in his hair so as to completely control and direct the movements of his head. At first he tried with his tongue and his fingers to please her, but to little avail because as soon as he started she cut off his air – and relented only when he began slackening against her, mere moments before he was in real danger of passing out. After that he just stayed where he was on his back, hands fisted in the cushions down by his sides.
Azof knew he was only along for the ride, so he let her do as she pleased – and she ground herself onto him, rubbing the opening of her sex against his lips, demanding the inside of his mouth - even pressing herself, repeatedly, onto the tip of his nose.   By this time Azof was beside himself, he didn’t care – the smell and the taste of the girl’s sex, the closeness of her; so much had Yildiz’s singlemindedness aroused him that he hadn’t, as their situation progressed, much of a coherent thought left in his head.
So the young Orc lay there as the girl used him to take her pleasure. Her orgasms came once - twice - then three times; at first a series of little fluttering climaxes, squeezed against Azof’s growling, panting mouth. Before the final one she dragged the young Orc’s hand up from his side, prised two of his fingers straight and pushed them into her body, positioning them – just so. She moved up and down on them, still with her iron-tight grip on Azof’s wrist, squeezing his hand and his face with her thighs and throughout all of it his only thought was that it was – lovely, what she was doing to him.
Fingers weren’t the same as his dick but at least it was something. At least now he had somewhat of a better idea what the inside of her felt like. Maybe, Azof thought, maybe he could think about it later. He could take himself in his hand and remember the kind of noises the girl was making, could try to think about what it would be like to have Yildiz’s soft wet heat enfolding him, around him, and then he would…..he would…..
Azof fervently wished he had a better imagination.
The girl’s final orgasm took longer, went on for longer, too. Azof strained up towards her, the muscles in his back and neck and shoulders wrenching and popping as she bore down with all her weight on him and he strove back towards her with all his might, straining and stretching and stretching till his breath gave out and he was seeing stars, and then at last, at long last she was done with him.
Yildiz relented and slid off him. She smiled at the young Orc briefly and rolled over, turning her back on him. Then she promptly went to sleep.
She hadn’t exactly issued an invitation, but neither had she instructed Azof to leave. After a moment the Orc took a chance and shuffled closer. He fitted his body so that it was almost lying against hers, going very carefully, until he was but a hairsbreadth from touching the curve of Yildiz’s spine.
Yildiz grunted in her sleep. Reaching behind her back she took hold of Azof’s arm and moved it so it was draped across her hip.
Encouraged, Azof pressed closer, nuzzling his face into the nape of the girl’s neck and snuffling her hair.
Yildliz twitched away from him, irritably. “Go to sleep, Azof.”
“I will in a minute,” the young Orc said.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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Azof and the Cult of the Scorpion Goddess