Property of the Masked Orc

Somewhere in the surreal Ownverse between vast plains and jungles.
As Crimson rests bound under his hand, she guesses they stop at a waystation along the path. For she heard the Mask Orc growl orders to his mates to set up camp. As she stirs under his hand she knows the Mask Orc isn't done,while others deparat from their steeds; he remains on his boar. She moans under her gag but her moans go ignored for now. Again the she feels the hand of the Mask Orc stroke her perfect curvy barebod. She feels like she's his inviting  property for now. She's soaken wet from the rain that has stop a few hours ago and she feels numbness overwhelm her. Yet her mind is active and alert. Crimson knows she's tired from the long journey but their journey doesn't end here. She moans again.
She feel his boar move forward away from their camp. For the terrain has change some. Her instincts tell her that she will consent with the Mask Orc. Consent has kept her alive this long she figures. Consent has been her tool of survival in this new world which is now her home. As she lays quietly on his boar,she recalls a memory from her college years where she imagine some creature bursted through her closet door and wanted to own her; she proudly accepted his offer and the creature takes her away from her drab life.She recalls the imaginary journey where's she dress her lace and she marches under an escort through a Oz like land. At the time the imaginary land had more of a feel of Stephen King's Dark Tower. Now she's in the Ownverse and it's no Dark Tower,no Land of Oz it's asa if the Druids then read her wish and waited for the moment to bring her here.
She squirms under the hand of the Mask Orc.
"Easy my darling," the Maks Orc declares. He squeezes her again and she moans loudly. He sees a clearing as does she and she feels her gag being removed. He squeezes her again OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH she moans loudly. OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
They draw closer to the clearing near a running stream.

Minutes later..
Still bound the Mask Orc rides his ginger over his shoulder. The orange redhair goddess remains quiet as she tenses under his hand once more. They make the clearing with no problem and Crimson now lays on her back against the comfortable wet grass. The Mask Orc kisses her like crazy and grabs her; she whispers "Conquer me."
 He does so and in the amdist of the crazy ecstasy going on she consents with him no questions asked. Crimson feels conquered.