Rena shifted her hips in a vain attempt to loosen the ropes that bound her to a great tree trunk. Only a few feet behind her, her three traveling companions, Lem, Rafael, and Cain, were similarly bound to the sides of the tree, spaced a few feet apart. She could hear them groan as they awoke from unconsciousness.
“Gods…no! Help!” Lem screamed, thrashing as much as he could in his bind.
Rena hissed at him.
“Lem, shut up! You’re just going to bring more attention to us!"
Lem didn’t stop wailing. Rena could hear motion from a cluster of tents that sat a few yards away from them, beyond the clearing they were tied in. She struggled to find some memory of who tied them up or how they got here, but all she could recall was loud noises, flashing steel, and deep grunts.
“By the gods, Lem! Silence yourself!"
Rena heard a deep grunt from the nearest tent. Her skin prickled and she felt the metallic taste of fear at the back of her mouth. Scanning the surrounding area, she located where the captors had placed her things. Her short-sword was 30 feet away, buried in a heap. Even if she got free now, her captors would be on her before she could reach it.
She heard canvas move and she knew someone was coming to them now. She couldn’t help but gasp when she saw the figure move around the side of the tent. The figure must have been over seven feet tall, bound in cords of muscle, and had skin that was dark green. Miniature tusks protruded from the captor’s heavy lower jaw, piercings lined her ears, and her hair was braided tightly and greased. Scarified tattoos spread across the captor’s bare breasts.
“Orcs! Gods no! We’re doomed! The gods have forsaken us!
“Shut your trap!” screamed the orc woman, in heavily accented common tongue, “Loud human will be punished!"
Rena stared at the orc as she walked over to the tree and as the creature approached, it growled at her. Rena didn’t flinch. Rena expected a strike, or an insult, but instead, the orc woman just smiled and moved on to Lem.
Rena could just barely see what the orc was doing out of the corner of her eye. Lem continued screaming pathetically until the orc woman grabbed him by the jaw and pulled her face close.
“Shut up,” she growled, “Or I smash your head.”
The orc pulled a dagger from a belt that held up her loincloth. She held the knife up to the corner of Lem’s mouth.
“Don’t make me hurt you, little man.”
The orc started to laugh, but was interrupted by the sound of a horn sounding. It came from the camp.
“You’re lucky, little man,” the orc said, “Chief’s awake.”
Lem whimpered and went limp. Rena was watching the camp. Orcs were rising from the tents and coming towards them. She noticed something strange: every last orc that came into the clearing before them was female. When the chief came in, the sight became even stranger.
The Chief was taller than all the other orc women, easily pushing eight feet. Her hair was gray and her features looked aged, as far as Rena could tell. She wore large, armored shoulder-pads with a sheet of chainmail spread between them that hung down over her breasts. She wore a fur dress that had been dyed red. A black symbol had been charred into a patch of skin on the fur.
“Take down the men,” the Chief said, “put them in chains and get them working on the stones.”
The Chief spoke much better than the first orc woman, and she was staring right at Rena. Shining grey eyes beneath light green lids. Rena noticed a terrible sensation in her gut, some animal instinct told her there would be no escape.
Rafael groaned as he was cut loose and clapped in irons to her left. Cain said nothing, which did not surprise Rena. If anyone would escape, it would be Cain. Cain became cold and calculating in times of danger. Lem was struggling to remain silent as the orc woman from before stripped him of his clothes and cuffed him naked.
“I sure hope ours will be bigger than this one, Chief!” the orc woman said, pointing to Lem’s naked member.
The Chief did not respond, simply waving her hand towards the bundle of tents. The orc woman grumbled and yanked Lem away towards the tents. Rafael looked back at Rena in horror, mouthing the words “I’m sorry.” Cain simply stared forward.
“Out of here, all of you. Go prepare the circle,” the Chief shouted at the remaining orc women.
Slowly, the orc women filtered out into the camp leaving only Rena and the Chief in the circle of trees behind the camp. Once all the women were gone, the Chief came forward and untied some of the ropes.
“You speak common well,” Rena said, “how did you learn it?”
The Chief looked intrigued that Rena would speak to her frankly but continued with her task. When she was finished untying, Rena looked down at herself to see she was still bound to the tree, but certain parts of her body were exposed. She had not noticed that she was naked beneath the ropes. The Chief stepped back and spoke.
“It is my native tongue. Not all orcs are raised speaking Orcish speech.”
Rena raised an eyebrow; this she had never heard of.
“So your parents spoke common too, then?”
The Chief just smiled and continued with her tasks. She reached into a pouch on her belt and dabbed her fingers inside. There seemed to be some sort of dark green tar within. Rena gasped when she felt the Chief smear the tar onto her thighs.
“What are you doing?!” Rena screamed.
The Chief spread more of the tar onto Rena’s belly, breasts, cheeks, and finally her vulva. Rena was squirming as much as she could, but the ropes still held her tightly. Everywhere the tar touched began to tingle to the point of stinging. It was torture.
Rena heard the Chief begin to hum, then rise into a chant in an unknown tongue. The tingling turned to burning. The Chief drew from her belt what appeared to be a bundle of grass covered in pinkish powder. She brushed it across Rena’s forehead.
Immediately, Rena felt like her forehead was being compressed. The pressure seemed to seep through her skin, through her bone and into her skull. She was dizzy. The Chief walked out of view. The clearing before Rena was spinning and it only got worse when she felt the ropes go slack.
Rena plummeted towards the ground and couldn’t get her hands up fast enough. She hit the ground, then scrambled desperately to sit up. She felt a large, warm hand lift her up. The Chief lifted her back against the tree.
“Read this,” the Chief said, shoving a piece of parchment towards Rena.
The parchment was covered in common. It was a common prayer. Everyone knew how to read it.
“What?” Rena asked.
“Read it now.”
Rena sighed but complied. The dizziness wasn’t gone which was making the words harder to make out.
“Gods guide our path, Gods rest our heads. May the Twelve lead us to…to…sal-salvation,” Rena said, stuttering at the end.
The page was hard to focus on, but it was more than that. The word looked wrong to her. Rena tried to continue.
“May the L-lig-ligt?”
She knew that wasn’t right but she couldn’t make sense of it. She couldn’t even piece together the next word. She tried letter by letter, mouthing the letters and trying to sound them out. She knew she should know this. She stopped trying for a moment. Rena was suddenly aware of a fuzzy sensation on the edges of her consciousness. It made her feel ill.
“Hm. Working faster than I expected. Come now. You’ll be fine,” said the Chief, lifting Rena by her arm to her feet forcefully.
Rena’s breasts bounced hypnotically with the force of the Chief’s lift, and she found herself staring at her chest to stave off the dizziness. They were walking so quickly. It was confusing her. She saw that the tar seemed to be soaking into her skin as she walked, leaving her skin discolored and dark.
They came into the center of the camp. The orcs were circled all around by the tents. In the corner, her three traveling companions were tied with rope leashes, naked. All of them looked dejected and embarrassed except for Cain, who still stood tall. There were whip marks across his abs and pecs. In the very middle, there was a ring of white and black stones, which had been etched with Orcish runes.
“Step into the ring,” The Chief ordered.
Rena was too dizzy to argue. As she stepped over the stones, she tried desperately to remember why she was here, but she was drawing blanks. The fuzziness on her mind was growing. She turned to look back at the Chief.
The Chief was holding her hand above one edge of the circle. A deep chant rose in her throat and the other Orc women joined in. The Chief motioned with her other hand, sweeping it over the crowd. As she did so, the Orc women turned to one another and began touching each other in the lewdest display Rena had ever seen.
Rena could feel heat rising from the stones around her. The runes were glowing red. The tar on her skin burned hotter, causing her to glance down at her thighs. Everywhere the tar had touched was now stained dark green. And it was spreading.
Her lips were green, her breasts, green. Her nipples had turned black and seemed to be shrinking. She began to hear moans from around the camp as the women grew more intense in their pleasure. She scanned the crowd, fear and disgust filling her mind. Her eyes met with the Chief, who had drawn a small, jagged dagger and placed it against her hand. Rena screamed.
The Chief made a slice across her palm, and the blood trickled down upon the stones. A flash of light lit the camp and the chanting stopped at once, though the lovemaking continued. Rena shook.
The fuzziness in her mind seemed to solidify and constrict around her brain. She suddenly understood. Her knowledge was leeching away like sand in an hourglass. She could feel herself forgetting how to write, forgetting how to calculate currency, forgetting all the history of her land. She felt heavy, dull, dumb. A pain below drew her eyes.
Rena saw that all her muscles were clenched and growing in size. Her legs, once lithe, were bulking and becoming corded and large. She saw her abdominal muscles, once only softly visible, protrude and grow in definition. Her breasts almost seemed to shrink as the muscles beneath expanded. Her arms surged in size and strength.
As she watched she saw more change. The shape of her body was changing, not just the strength. Her once curved waist became a chiseled V. Her hips thinned and hardened. Her shoulders were widening.
Rena felt a surge of heat pass through her, tightening all her muscles almost paralyzing her. Her eyes were staring down between her legs. She could see her body reforming before her very eyes. Even in her dull state she could tell what was happening and she wanted to scream.
First there was a pinch between the folds of her womanhood, then a feeling of warmth and pressure as her clitoris expanded in size. She could feel it push out from between her lower lips sending waves of pleasure out to the rest of her body. At the same time, she felt a sensation of folding skin as her new testicles formed and lowered into skin that was once the lips of her cunt.
The word came to her out of character. It was primal, sexual, degrading. She felt the void of other words growing. Absence of vocabulary, absence of knowledge. All that remained was arousal, sex, the knowledge of procreation. As her muscles slowly slackened, she looked out at the writhing crowd around her. The last vestige of her femininity slipped away.
Rena felt himself grow hard. He couldn’t imagine why he’d ever cared for anything other than the surging bodies before him. He stepped forward across the ring of glowing stones.
“Look upon our male!” screamed the Chief, “Hope for the tribe! We have a male!”
The orc women roared in triumph, which only made Rena harder. He strode forward to an orc woman who had spread herself on the ground before the ring. Straddling the woman, he plunged into her already wet cunt and thrusted forcefully. The moans of pleasure sounded greater than anything he could ever remember hearing.
Rena reveled in his hardness, in the wet massage of the orc woman’s interior on his cock. These were new, glorious feelings. Triumph coursed in his veins as the final changes settled in. His jaw hardened and small tusks pushed upwards from his now-strong jaw. There was nothing left of his prior femininity.
He felt orgasm building, a tight ball of arousal deep at the base of his cock. It grew into explosive cumming that shook his body and the body of the orc woman below. As he came, hot cum flowing outwards, the last semblance of his prior intelligence was obliterated. He had become primal, hungry, sexual, capable of only basic language. And he was reveling in the new feelings. Never before had he felt the surging, penetrative power of orgasm like this.
Rena stood, breathing heavily. His cock was slick and still hard. He needed more. And he would get it.
