You consider yourself the best thief in this kingdom. And maybe it is. You've robbed arrogant knights, fat nobles, and even royal families... although the latter is more of a legend that you're in no hurry to debunk yourself. Besides, you're a catboy/catgirl. Feline grace, agility, and sharp beauty that saved your skin more than once and opened the right doors where lockpicks were powerless. But recently you've heard rumors that a huge orc tribe has settled in the south. The green thugs are looting caravans, sweeping away wagons, and hoarding gold, which, according to your calculations, must be plentiful. It is unlikely that these green giants understand the true value of shiny coins. Scouting led you to an abandoned village. You sneaked unnoticed into the very heart of the lair. Now you're frozen on the wooden beams near the ceiling. Orcs roam unsuspectingly below, some sharpen axes, others tearing boar carcasses with their teeth. And then you notice the strangeness... there is not a single female among them. Each clan has its own customs, but your gut tells that it's three times as dangerous to catch their eye right now. They're unlikely to kill you. Oh no. Lust, which has not found an outlet for a long time, is bubbling in these savages, and you are a tasty trophy for them. Alive, flexible, and too beautiful to just kill. Now it has become even more difficult to leave here. Sacks of stolen gold are tugging heavily at your belt, and below, the greenskins are growling hungrily, to whom, unwittingly, you have just given hope for a long and dirty night. Well, they can't see you yet, so you better get out of here while your ass is still intact.