*Author's note: For those unfamiliar with DND races, Gnolls are basically anthro hyenas. 

*"We're under attack!"
The scream came out of the mouth of one of the caravan guards. A younger man, a Gnoll. Fresh-faced. The cry came out and the caravan and its retinue halted, just in time for the guard that sounded the alarm to have an arrow go right through his head.
A burlier man, a Gnoll with battle scars and a cataract eye, drew his sword in time to parry the jagged edge of an Orc war-axe. 
"Get the Prince out of here!" He yelled. He locked blades with the Orc, a she-beast with ebony braided hair and white tribal paint on her greyish skin. She snarled and pushed him down to his knees before striking at him again and again. Try as he might the Gnoll captain just was too old to contend with the raw power of an Orc, and finally the female warrior bisected his head.
"Rip open the wagon and bring me the Prince!" Howled the she-beast as she flourished in the carnage. On all sides of her Orc banshees came flooding from the thick brush, knives and swords and cleavers and axes in hand. 
The retinue fell like flies. The Orcs were too powerful, they'd done these raids dozens of times, and the Gnolls despite their strength were outmatched in experience.
Prince Acre sat in the back of his wagon, terrified. All of his personal guards had exited the carriage to fend off the Orcs, but he didn't need to be as much of a tactician as his father to know that the dying screams of his men were greater than that of the Orcs. 
When the air went still and the dust settled the door to the wagon was violently chopped through again and again by a war-axe. Prince Acre huddled into his couch, shielding his face from the splintering wood. The young Gnoll was only fifteen, wearing silks and golden jewelry. He looked more like a prostitute than a Prince, but that was just the style of the Tsardom. 
"Well, well, well." Came the voice of a female Orc. The same one who had killed the eldest guard. She licked her tusks and climbed into the wagon. Snatching the frightened Prince by his black hair she yanked him out and threw him to the dirt. She placed a boot on his back, and smiled at her pinned prey.
"Now now, my little Prince. Struggling will do you no good. I am She'la Sawtooth."
The Prince knew that name. He'd overheard his father, Tsar Dreya, speak about her and her tribe. The Broken Arrow tribe were some of the most violent caravan raiders in the countryside. Savage. Sadistic. They were slavers, raiders, and had a penchant for capturing young men for their sick pleasures.
"You know my name, don't you, little boy?" She sniggered. She reached down and snatched him up by his hair, pulling the young Gnoll up so that his feet dangled above the ground. 
"P-Please."
"Oh, little Prince, we are beyond that. I have a reputation to uphold." 
She'la was in her prime. Mid-thirties, and beautiful. Her body, mostly exposed by her leather armor, was muscled and battle-scarred. She had a piercing in her navel that matched the hoops in her pointy left ear. She was strong. She'd been the chiefess for the Many Arrows for ten years after killing their last Chieftain in open combat.  
Compared to her the pampered and sheltered Prince was a pathetic, groveling worm. He knew not how to use a sword, or shield. He knew not how to draw a bow. All he knew was hedonistic pleasures such as wine and food. Somehow, he was still a virgin, as despite the other carnal lusts he partook in his father **demanded** he remain a virgin until married. That wedding date was one year away. 
He'd never see it.
Another strong Orc woman approached. She had lighter grey skin, and a broken left tusk. Her hair was long and red, and she sported deep grey freckles on her cheeks. Her deep purple eyes pierced through the young Prince.
"Meet my Captain, Allihim." Said She'la. 
"My pleasure," said the Captain in a mocking curtsy. A second later and Acre found himself blacked out from the woman's powerful right hook.

***

When Acre awoke the first thing his keen nose picked up was the sultry smell of burning incense. His blue eyes darted around and he realized he was inside a tent. Deep hues of red surrounded him, and he also realized he was lying in a quite comfortable pile of pillows. However, he was naked. All of his jewelry removed, clothing gone. His wrists bound to a beam running horizontal behind him.
"Good, you're awake." 
She'la walked into view. Naked, her powerful body on full display for the young boy. Her puff nipples pierced through with golden hoops. The musky scent of her mixed with the incense, and Acre could smell the heat between her legs.
His cock twitched and hardened, and the embarrassed boy couldn't do much about it. That brought a smile to She'la's face.
"You're probably wondering why you're still alive?" She asked. Her thick, exotic accent was sultry yet powerful. She sauntered towards the bound boy, purposefully putting a sway in her hips. 
"I needed a new boytoy. I figured it would be a waste to kill Tsar Dreya's little bastard." 
"You... You'll pay for this!" Acre seethed. "My father will crucify your entire tribe! I'll be free by tomorrow."
He tried to sound strong and courageous while threatening her, but his voice shook and wavered. She'la wasn't impressed. She straddled the boy, taking his head in her hands...
And then she slapped him, hard. "If I didn't plan to have your tongue buried in my ass, I'd have it cut from your mouth." She said, "But... I can always have your eyes put out. Or maybe take some fingers." Her tone was playful, but the naive Prince detected the genuine threat intertwined. 
He went silent.
"Good boy."
Acre felt something warm and slick rub against his exposed cock. He blushed under his fur, and looked up at her in fear. He was too young to have felt a woman's touch, but not too young to not predict what was about to happen.
She'la moved her hips up, positioning the young boy's dick with her entrance. She placed her hands on his chest, digging into flesh with her nails.
"P-please don't." Acre whispered, trying to move so that she couldn't molest him.
She'la simply giggled, and then she slammed her hips down. In an instant she took Acre's 8-inch cock into her snug, fertile pussy. 
Acre cried out in both shock and pleasure at that, feeling her silky walls grip his cock in a vice. He didn't get much time to adjust before the Orc began to bounce and grind. She'la moaned out in bliss as she raped the Prince, never breaking eye contact as she rode him against his will. Acre could only moan and gasp as she stole his virginity, only the base of his cock seeing air when she'd rise before quickly taking him down to the hilt again.
"How does it feel... Huff... To be raped by a filthy Orc?" She'la asked, giving the boy another smack to his face. "You're just my little toy now. Not a Prince. I'm going to rape you again and again, so much you may even... huff... begin to like it!"
Acre watched as she bounced on him. Her phat ass clapping each time their hips met. The way her muscles rippled with the effort, the thin sheen of sweat appearing on her skin. She fucked away his innocence with a smile.
"You can't knock me up, little pup," She'la said, biting her bottom lip and slamming down so hard he felt an ache in his hips. "You're gonna give me a fat load like the little boy-slut you are, aren't you?"
Acre shut his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks. He couldn't move, couldn't fight, so he simply resigned to taking it.
She was so... primal, in bed. His first time was not sweet, or soft. There was no love, no special exploration of another's body. She'la simply mounted and fucked, giving his face the occasional slap to keep him lucid. Her claws left scratches on his chest, she tugged at his nipples until they were painful. She showed the boy no mercy, no kindness.
"I'm gonna cum," she growled. "Cum in me you filthy fuck."
Acre's orgasm had been building rather he wanted it or not, and by the time she'd ordered him to finish he was already a hair-trigger away.
They both came. She shuddered and howled in pleasure as her pussy clamped down around that young, perfect cock. She was high off the power, exhilarated sadistically.
Acre's first orgasm inside a woman was earth shaking. His whole body trembled as his cock began to spurt rope after rope of young seed. He filled her pussy with his jizz, so much of it draining from his fat young nuts that it seeped out around his member.
She did not stop, though. She'la continued to bounce on the poor boy's dick, quickly putting his pleasure over the threshold. 
"P-Please! Too much! Too much!"
She'la grinned wide, and leaned back on her arms so that all the power was in her toned hips. Seeing Acre writhe and squirm turned her on much more than she expected. She felt hot. She felt needy. She felt powerful. 
And so, she fucked herself on that young boy-cock to two more orgasms. The Gnoll too, had finished again and again. By then Acre was a drooling mess, eyes rolled back and tongue hanging from his slack-jawed. He trembled and shook, his nerves fried. She'la had to give him another stern smack to snap him out of it. 
"You made a mess," said the Orc in a mocking tone. She stood up, letting the boy's cock flop free from her messy cunt. His cum drooled out of her slit, some of it splattering back down onto his lap and stomach.
"You get an hour before I come back, pup." She'la walked towards the entrance of the tent, stopping and looking back over her shoulder with a cruel grin, "I'm gonna fuck you silly again and again until your father pays for your ransom. Wouldn't it be funny if by then you were so addicted to my tight pussy you didn't want to leave?"
Acre said nothing, too exhausted to reply. He laid there, soaking in the reality of his situation. He was hopeless, he knew it. His only hope was that his father could pay the ransom She'la would demand...