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“Here they are, Warchief. The last platoon we caught in Ashenvale. They managed to pass past our perimeter. But we caught them a day later; they weren't keeping watch," commented a gruff voice; the stern tone clearly indicated who I faced at that moment.

Through the pain, through the suffering my aching bones forced upon me, my swollen eyes and bruised face, I opened my right eye to see him.

We were in the furthest reaches of the Horde perimeter in Ashenvale, practically at the frontier between the Alliance and the Horde, in the No-man's land. Yet, here he was. In a decrepit prison, the air humid due to the nearby lake, and the place almost as dark as the night.

Garrosh. Garrosh Hellscream. The target of any Alliance soldier, his face painted on every training dummy we got our hands on. Garrosh fucking Hellscream, as we called, for he was… Our enemy.

Born on Draenor and brought back by the previous Warchief, Thrall, Garrosh had a different type of grit than his predecessor. Whereas Thrall was gruff but tried to maintain the fight to a minimum, Garrosh embraced it. Whenever a situation called for a truce, he relented or was eager to backstab.

_We had lost the Draeneis further north. Teldrassil had been destroyed, and most of the night elves' leadership had disappeared, seemingly brought as slaves into Orgrimmar. _

Me… My Squad. We were supposed to push through the No-Man's land, squeeze through the security, and progress in the Horde's territory towards Orgrimmar. There, we would have met the resistance while wearing enchanted trinkets to hide our identities.

But… But we failed.

_My bruised and pained body could attest to it. And the one we were to dispatch, remove, kill… Stood before us with a smile. _

Like the others, if given the opportunity, I would have reached for the hidden blade in my boot and used it to slice the Orc's throat. But… I couldn't. Not because I had no chance with Garrosh… No. I was confident in my abilities. Due to the chains I wore.

“What a pathetic sight," the Warchief commented as he walked by us, looking at each soldier from my squad. “Weak. Pitiful. Coward. Naïve… Fool."

His walk, his tone, his scorn… At that moment, I considered nothing but my hatred towards him.

“You talk big when we are chained. Free us, and you'll see!" I claimed, with enough cadence to spit it out before the nearby guard backhanded me.

“Sorry, Warchief. I should have been faster," even exclaimed that guard, his head down.

“No. Let him speak. I want to hear his justification for his failure. You were caught, stupidly, because nobody kept watch. How is that possible… Human?"

His tone was… Soft. But marred with a rogue attitude, mocking. All amplified by the brown Orc's smirk, his filled tusks glimmering in the lamplight.

“'Name's Alric. Orc," I started, coughing the blood in the back of my throat and standing up to myself, much to the Warchief's apparent joy… And everyone else's dread. “We got caught because we were eager to meet you. We couldn't wait to give you a human hello!"

At that moment, I bore a shit-eating grin. I didn't care about what the Warchief could do to me. The rules of War weren't his style; many were the massacres he had ordered. One more? I was fine with that as long as I managed to wound his ego and spit at his face. Which I did to punctuate my words.

However… However. Garrosh didn't frown. Or rather, he did for half a second before he broke into laughter. Crude, low, almost deranged as he approached, his golden brown irises focused on me, peering into me. I think… He chose me by my words alone.

_“He's funny! Let's bring him home! He'll serve for the new project!" chuckled Garrosh as he punched me. He punched me in the guts until I saw the lights out. Everything I heard afterward… I'm not sure. But I swear… I swear I heard him say this: “Kill the rest". _

In the pain of my wrecked guts, I didn't resist. The taste of retched rations stuck to my tongue, and even now, I can remember it. I tasted it even when I woke up in a cage and paraded towards the Capital.

I heard Garrosh's praises and the cries of heralds telling how the proud Lieutenant Irontusk had caught an elite team of assassins sent to kill the Warchief.

_I saw the gazes, heard the boos, and felt the dirt and rocks thrown at me while I remained as immobile as possible to avoid the pain. _

They gave me water and some food, although both tasted overwhelmingly sweet, to the point of cloying. I tried to push it back, but as the parade was extended among Ashevale and Azshara, I had to chew down the meat and bread I was given.

It didn't help me feel better… or ease the pain I felt at the moment, nor the anguish at the project Garrosh had for me. But each night…

Each night, when I pretended sleeping in my cage, my skin seared by the exposure to the sun and my lips parched, he was around. He spoke lowly but always to someone near, whom I couldn't see. I heard him stomp around my cage, sometimes to watch me from a different angle… However, each time I listened to his joy and interest in me… Unfeigned and focused.

Finally… After what was days of prancing around, Garrosh had done his parade and I was brought to Orgrimmar.

_To anyone who hasn't stepped inside the city, the view is… Menacing. The high towers are covered with metals, barded, and whose weapons are pointed in your direction. Then, the downward slope leads you deeper into the canyons until you can barely see the sun unless you twist your neck. The place is always bustling with people; with slaves, too. _

As the Horde changed, slavery became prominent in our reports, and when I entered Orgrimmar for the first time, I saw a flood of Night Elves and Draeneis dragged along by slavers of many horizons.

_Nowadays, Humans, Dwarves, and Worgens are among the lot… But still. I was… I think, for the first time afraid of what Garrosh Hellscream had for me. And what would become of me, Alric of Stormwind. _

It was my name, my identity. Something I was afraid to lose as I would become an Orc's pet and maybe lose myself. I was the son of a Noble, an aspirant who had arisen through the Alliance's ranks… I prided myself on my blade and a shield. I yearned for the love of a young girl back home who laughed at my jokes and whose beauty caught me. But it was to disappear.

-

After being paraded through the city, I was brought to Grommash Hold at the center. The place, stuffed with soldiers and workers alike, was closer to Stormwind's Keep. And… More dreary.

_Pulled out of my cage with my disgusting clothes, I was pushed down the many corridors towards my cell. _

And I was surprised by it. At that moment, I expected the same dark place I had been put before I was brought to Garrosh. Instead, I was in a wide room with every amenity necessary. If not for the lack of windows or the damp air… The place was humid and sweltering. It was… strange to live in there. And to stand there, dirty… Only to watch two Orcs come inside while carrying a tub and then more coming with buckets of warm water.

_For a moment of surprise, I thought myself lost, unable to tell if I was back in Stormwind or a prison. _

“What is that?" I dared to ask the last Orc as he left a dull shaving blade on a side table near the bathtub.

“A blade… For shaving," answered the servant, his common particularly marked by a thick accent.

_“Why? Why the bath? Why do you want me to shave myself? What is that?" _

I said that by waving my arms as if to encompass the whole place. But the Orc's eyes were only for me before he bowed out: “The Warchief wants you prepared."

There, he left… And I was alone.

_I wasn't stupid enough to grab that shaving blade and try to take the servant hostage if you ask about my options. At best, I would have gotten three steps out before someone or something took me out. _

As for killing myself with it? I didn't even think about it. I was allowed to live.

And I would do so.

My bath… Was warm. Perfumed even. Amidst war. It was a strange display of power from Garrosh: I was given a perfumed bath and considered like a diplomat. And after weeks of less-than-adequate cleaning, I was happy to say I felt fresh. In the furniture of my room, I was even allowed a mirror, which I used to look at myself that day.

My bruises were gone, leaving behind my tanned and immaculate skin. My hair had grown lengthier, and the wavy brown strands covered my forehead. For the rest… My body looked much better than before my years of service to the Kingdom. My shoulders were broad, my stature heavy… And my muscles were delineated… But as I inspected myself, I saw it.

A… Stain. Or a mark. A decoloration of my skin around my left hamstring.

My skin was no longer tanned and rosy there… Instead, it seemed grayer. Like an infection mark or a poorly healed scar. But it was too roundish and… The skin was leathery to the touch.

I dared to poke it with the blade before someone knocked, and… There was Garrosh.

Garrosh fucking Hellscream entered my room as I was giving myself a thorough look and almost flashed him with my ass.

“Already preparing yourself for your duties? Pathetic human."

“I was…" I coughed, standing up, adjusting my posture, and puffing up my chest. “Checking if I have any wound left. I am a prized prisoner for you. You don't want me hurt."

… At that moment, I assumed I had real importance, even if I didn't know the truth. The Orc smiled back at me, chuckled… And snapped. More servants entered, carrying what looked to be training gear. Weights, bars, more weights they installed at the center of the room with a rapidity that belies their rough outlook.

“Don't overestimate your importance, Human. You are a project, and you'll see why."

“What is th- WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

I answered and tried to talk smart to the Warchief. But when I did, two soldiers grabbed me while a third one kneeled between my legs. He spread them, uncaring for my well-being, and attached my knees to a spreader bar. I tried to move away, to give a kick. But the other Orcs held me tight and forced me on the knees.

Then… They grabbed me by the testicles. Like most of my body, they were glabrous and relatively small. Therefore, they grabbed them and put them into a metal contraption that squeezed them before they linked it to the bar between my legs.

Such a contraption was made for me to stay on my knees and walk on all fours: should I change my position, the bar would then pull on the metal bars above my testicles and pull them down until my scrotum couldn't bear it.

During that moment when I kicked and screamed, I learned of my “importance" for the Warchief. I wasn't any prized prisoner, something of importance my upbringing ingrained. I was a toy, a pet, something Garrosh watched with a grin even when I was laying on all fours, alone and crying.

“Come to me. Pet," he said, with all the arrogance and disdain he possessed.

“No, I won't," I answered, heaving from my outburst, tired.

“Walk. Pet," he repeated.

I opened my mouth to answer and insult him. But a shock struck my exposed nuts, making me retch and empty my stomach on the stone ground. My weak arms still protected me from an entire fall. But I scraped my knees and elbows. And scraped some more when I walked… Taking one step towards Garrosh, encouraged by his demeaning words.

“Good human pet. I will remake you," he said with a chuckle, his smile brutish.

“Y… You'll see if… I'm a pet," I moaned, my eyes rolling.

“Yes… Yes, you will be a pet."

By the time I was at his feet, I had no strength to utter a word. I had to carry my body and mind my legs, readjust them constantly unless taking one single step was a torment. Yet, I managed to be by him as he lifted his boot and watched me.

“Kiss it."

I glanced at him, the furor in my eyes… And then the pain in them as my balls were again shocked, making me spit and nearly retch on it.

“Clean them with your tongue. And Kiss my boot."

I retched some more, especially when tasting back the cloying food I had been given. But… I licked it and gargled. I nearly felt my body convulse and fight; I even had to breathe quickly to repress the pressure in my throat. But when the boot was cleaned… … I kissed them.

After the taste of food and dirt, the metal was almost better… But not the humiliation.

Nor the scowl the Orc gave me as he snapped and ordered me to take rounds around the room.

Each time I kissed his boot, he took the opportunity to step back and force me to follow along while I heard the Orc guards cheer and speak to themselves in Orcish. My ears burned, forced as I was to shake my hips like a whore while my balls were getting squeezed, crushed, and mistreated until they were bright red and raw.

“Another round, Pet," said Garrosh with a grin as he took another turn… And he snapped.

Whatever other torture he had in mind, I remained surprised while he smiled back. I nearly peed myself out of fear… And I did, out of pain, when those Orcs yanked on the spreader bar between my legs, almost yanking my nuts out, and attached weight balls to them.

It was a few drops… But it would bite me in the ass as I was once again forced to take another round of my room along the Warchief, closing the distance each time with a kiss.

But when he saw the urine… He pointed it out.

“Lick it. And we're done."

“… I-“

Another shock hit my nuts, making my eyes roll in their socket and my jaw clench. Luckily, my tongue wasn't on the path, or I would have lost it. Instead, my teeth rattled together, and in my dumbstruck state, I watched him… He didn't smile, he scowled… he… His hands were on a small axe at his waist. I gulped…

And I started to lick the tiny puddle, lapping the mix of warm and salty urine with dirt and sand. Again, I had to fight back the anger, the shame, the disgust, and the horror that had caught me before I looked up, my chin dripping with fluids.

“… Finally. You are a slow learner, human. But you will learn."

_He said that, nearly spat at me as he turned to leave, followed by his guards, who glanced at me and smiled before they closed the door. They left me alone in the room, and still bound. During the first hours, I attempted to contort and twist to find a way to reach the bars. But it wasn't enough. Afterward, I tried to get the door to knock on it. _

Nobody answered my calls and pleas. The guards were gone. I knocked for hours until my fists were raw again.

And when nothing happened, I tried to crawl to the bed… Only to drop in the middle of the room, exhausted physically and mentally, crying myself to sleep.

The day after? Things were starting to change.

A kick to the door and the metal hinges creaking woke me up, made me squirm, and then cry as I was reminded of the presence of those spreader bars holding my nuts.

“Remove those bindings. I need to examine him. And get him something to eat and drink!" cried a voice, nosy and high-pitched. Shuffles followed, and more guards entered and stomped inside the room, only to grab me by the shoulders.

I was too exhausted to fight back when they grabbed me by the legs and nuts, torturing them again… And finally releasing my legs. But even then, I… fell. I had almost forgotten how to walk correctly, and staying on two feet was more difficult. My balance was different.

“Fine. So… This is our subject? What's your name, human?" asked the same voice, its origin down.

My eyes followed, facing what was a Goblin. Wadax Meanbrass. I didn't know his name, but it was always him at the center of those changes. He had a small, long nose, green skin, wore a white coat as if it made him look smarter, and goggles almost as large as his face.

“Your name, Human? You understand me?" he spoke common fluently.

“A- Alric of Stormwind," I mumbled, my mouth parched. I drooled at the plate of fruits and water the Guards brought. I nearly stumbled as I reached for the water pitcher.

“Alric. Typical human," continued Wadax as he approached, snapped, and climbed the small stool a guard placed by my side. He leaned and watched me eat, examining my legs… And my shoulders.

“When did those marks appear, Alric?" he asked, outstretching a hand before a guard handed him a measuring tape he used to measure my height.

“Those marks? My legs? Yesterday."

“And on the shoulders?" he asked, making me suddenly aware of the stiffness in my shoulders and the mark's presence. I turned, twisted, while he continued his measure as if it was nothing… And cried when I slipped to observe myself through the mirror: my shoulders were bigger and gray behind. The skin was leathery there, too… And the marks on my legs were larger.

_“What's happening to me?" I asked Wadax as he recovered his posture and adjusted his goggles. _

“You're about to become something new and better, human. A purebreed Orc. Devoid of the Fel! You should be proud of yourself!"

“… An… Orc?!"

I shouted, turning to the mirror as I glanced at myself. I pulled on my lips to see my canines were starting to get bigger, too, but enough to compare to an Orc's tusks. Even the hair atop my head was… Also different, though I didn't notice. And as I touched my scalp, I felt it… The leathery skin, as well as the strands separating.

I instantly turned, holding enough hair to cover my palm as I focused on Wadax, red in the face.

“WHAT IS THIS? WHAT ARE YO-HRMPH!"

I dropped. Again. One of the Guards had lifted his hand, and a shock had gone through my body and nuts, making me drop dead like a pathetic sack. I gargled; I kept my head low as I heard the Goblin approach and tapped my shoulders.

_“Here. Here. You will be stronger and more resilient. Better. Your transformation is underway… It is inevitable. But I will make sure you are the perfect… And most refined Orc this world has seen!" _

I didn't know how to answer, and in fact, I didn't answer. Wadax presented himself and kept talking while he took measures and walked around me. When he ordered me, too, I resisted at first. But after more shocks, I followed each request and allowed him to observe everything. Even when… He started to finger me. I clenched my teeth and fists, but watching that Guard with electricity across his fingertips made me stop and lower my head in defeat. I… Knew I was a pet and had to follow the orders.

Alas… After hours, Wadax seemed satisfied, and I was given a meal, a pot, and another bath… But nothing more for my cell, nothing to entertain myself.

Even those following days were the same. Wadax would come in the morning, measure me, finger me, note the progress, and then leave. I would be left without anything to do in that room. At first, I paced myself to exhaustion. Then, I counted the cracks in the walls, the planks that were used to make the furniture and even scrounged a dull blade to scratch and draw symbols on the stone walls. I was running crazy. I even started to lift the weights they had dismissed across the room.

Then… After four days like this, he entered. Garrosh… Fucking… Hellscream.

“You have made some progress, pet. You are looking better," he said, proud.

I… looked different. Gray marks were all over my body, almost erasing my rosy, soft skin. Most of the hair atop my head was gone, whereas my jaw was aching and protruding, my tusks were starting to peak from behind my lips. Even my glabrous skin was getting some tufts here and there. And I stood hunched.

In my mind, there was the need to answer and spit back at Garrosh. But a glance at the guards and that velleity vanished. I merely nodded.

“Good pet. On your knees," he ordered. And I followed.

“Come here, pet," he ordered… And I followed.

“Lick my boots," he ordered… But I was already doing that.

I didn't want my balls to hurt, not anymore. So I diligently cleaned his boots, my broad tongue dancing over the metal as I heard him chuckle and address the other Orcs in Orcish. I… I barely understood it, but I got the gist: he was mocking me.

Rage… I was enraged but couldn't say a thing, so I kept my head low until he removed his boots and snapped.

“Today, there will be a new training, pet."

Again, I was lifted and bound, though I didn't resist. Spreader bar, chain linking to my nuts… And… A plug.

One of the Guards approached me from behind and started to finger me, using two then three fingers to stretch me. My ass… I had never taken a thing before. And here were three orc fingers, almost as thick as my cock, stretching my asshole like a whore. I cried, I whined… And through magic, that Guard poured water inside my ass to prepare it before he slipped the cold and metallic plug inside my ass.

Then… A collar was slipped around my neck, with a leash leading to Garrosh.

“We will go on a walk, pet. But if you fail to keep the plug inside… You will be punished."

He didn't need to say further; the crackling of thunder in the Guards' fingertips was enough. More than enough… Yet, it didn't stop me from wincing and crying when weights were hooked to the plug, and I was forced to clench my buttcheeks to keep the toy inside.

It didn't stop as more weight was added around my nuts, which were attached to the contraption, tugged down by another spreader. And to my nipples, through clamps.

By the end of it… By merely standing up, I wanted to cry from the pain.

“On your feet. You're a smart pet. Smart pets stay on their feet," he said to stop me as I was about to go down. The Guards yanked me back up and… I tried to follow.

Walking with a spreader back is more difficult than expected. Instead of walking normally, I had to twist my hips to put one foot forward while Garrosh tugged on the leash, egging me to go faster.

“You will be punished, pet," he threatened me, too, as he looked at me… Then pointed a guard with his chin. I… Quivered. I tried to walk faster to the door.

But…

I heard the Clang of the metal hitting the ground.

The buttplug had slipped past my clenched cheeks and… It fell. It bounced off the ground, along with the weight attached to it. Barely had I the time to turn and see the lubed toy I felt a crackling pass through the air. My hair bristled, and there was the pain.

I was back on the ground, holding my guts, wanting nothing but to spill them out.

“Do better. Pet," said Garrosh as he inserted the plug into me again.

One guard grabbed and lifted me, forcing me to stand on my feet. I trembled and quivered as sweat poured over my face. I felt sick. So sick as I looked at Garrosh and noted that grin. And tried another step. Then another. Clenching cheeks, clenched jaw, careful steps. It was a dance and- Clang!

_Another spark, another pain, another drop before I was propped up. _

By the third time I walked, my body was a trembling mess while Garrosh kept tugging at the leash. He nearly yanked me forward. I nearly stumbled but… but my strength allowed me to keep forward and somehow… Somehow, I was getting the hang of this.

_Enough for me to watch the other cells. Only mine was furnished; only mine was locked behind a door. The rest of the prison were bar cells. The place was grim and dirty. But beyond that… It reeked. _

Sex, piss, cum, even shit… I could smell it all, and it was getting worse as we advanced towards an alcove. There… I was met with a strange sight. Irontusk. It was the name of the Orc who had captured my squad, green skin with fake iron tusk, hence his name. His eyes were blindfolded; he was naked and bound… While someone, a Goblin, stood behind him and fisted him. Fisted him with such violence, the Orc's body rocked back and forth. The old Soldier gagged and gargled, his caged orchood spilling cum on the ground as we approached.

“… Wh- What is this?" I asked as Garrosh led me closer to watch Irontusk. The old Orc's body had been covered with tattoos such as “Whore", “Bitch", “Failure" and as we turned… I saw his asshole's state as the Goblin kept punching that stretched pucker until it looked like a donuthole… Until the Soldier almost passed out.

“A punishment, for his failure," said Garrosh, with a grin.

“… A punishment for what?"

“For letting you pass through his perimeter. He should have caught you from the beginning. He merely fixed what he messed up. But the Horde allows no failure," said the Warchief, grim, before he tugged and forced me to follow.

I followed, gritting my teeth against the weight while I was led further into the prisons. The smell of rancid piss became worse to my nose as I was forced inside the toilets and… I saw it. The ranks of orcs attached against the walls, their bodies dripping with urine, and their heads surrounded by a metallic parabola filled with piss. But they couldn't empty them by moving their heads, bound as they were.

My eyes widened, and I turned.

“Wait-! No!" I shouted, yet, I had one of those “collars" strapped around my neck. The Guards held me down, and in my fear, there was the fateful Clang. A shock struck me.

When I recovered consciousness, I was strapped. My ass was full, my nipples sore… My neck, arms, and legs were restrained by steel as my eyes could only look up and see Garrosh. See Garrosh's wide and uncut cock pointing at me. His dick is massive, enormous, and with such a stench, my nose was wronged. The foreskin is thick, and so is the head as the urethra widened and… A golden but stinky piss hit me across the face. I gargled.

“Here's your piss, Pet. Forget water; that's your new drink," he said with a snarl.

But I couldn't see; my eyes closed as I sputtered and moaned, spitting back the droplets that had entered my mouth. I gagged, tried to shake my head away… But it only made the pooling piss splash around and hit me across the face until the Warchief was done and chuckled.

“Let the prisoners in!" he said with that wide grin.

He disappeared from sight, allowing me to catch a breath as the golden liquid was only at chin level. But when I heard the many stomps and the first Orc, talking to another prisoner in Orcish. I knew… I knew it, well. Piss. It might taste rancid, but when well hydrated, it has a strong but bearable taste. Not with those prisoners. They pissed like rain, and their fluids were rough on my tongue.

But I could do nothing but swallow it, lest I drowned. I gulped and gulped, my face red from humiliation as more dicks were pointed at me… Again… And again. I tried to squeeze my eyes shut, but I could still feel their gazes as the golden and warm liquid was released on my head and face, on my half-open mouth, and ears. Even some took the opportunity to masturbate and empty themselves on my body like savages.

And… If I tried to complain, they would aim at my mouth.

By the end of it… When they stopped after hours… I was a mess. My belly hurt, I was nauseous yet had nothing but liquid in my stomach… My face burned. My body burned. And I felt ashamed, even when a guard unlocked me and grabbed me by the leash, dragging me back to my cell. He wouldn't even remove the spreader bar, only allowing me to sleep on the ground itself, too exhausted to carry myself.

That night… Was awful. I had terrible thoughts when waking up. The fear of what horrible things the Warchief would do to me. But… He didn't come. Like last time, he left me with Wadax coming to inspect me with a plate of that cloying disgusting food. The tiny Goblin scientist would check and measure me. The gray spots were bigger and bigger; most of my legs were covered by them… And followed a rigidity in the muscles. My legs were getting longer, too, and my back started to hurt unless I was hunched. My shoulders were broader.

Of course, I was almost bald. There were a few tufts of hair left, and… Without thinking twice, I grabbed the dull shaving blade and cut them before the mirror as I checked myself.

I looked like a smaller Orc, with barely developed Tusks. But my body hair, dark gray, was starting to sprout out… And my body. My senses. They were changing, too. Wadax's anal probings were getting more intense, and I no longer cared. It was almost the least humiliating thing I've done… And with the plug in my ass, it… It didn't hurt as much. I didn't dare to tell the Goblin either when I started to pop a boner from the prostate examination. But he didn't say a thing… Nor did he stop even when I moaned and emptied myself on the ground, red-faced.

Once he was done… Once we were done, he allowed the guards to enter and fit me with the bars, plug, and weights. They dragged me back across the cell, right before Irontusk, who was turning into a shell of himself… And attached me to the toilet like the many Orcs working as fixtures.

Then, the prisoners would be allowed to use me or the others, although most beelined towards me to see Garrosh's pet project. And then… Once I got my fill and the prisoners no longer came, I would be dragged back into my cell, too exhausted.

_Wadax… Ejaculation… Walkies… Toilet… Cell… _

I wondered how long I would survive this. With each day, my body looked less and less like mine. My face and limbs constantly hurt as they shifted and grew. As everything in me grew, even my cock and balls. With them, my venal needs followed. Along with the pain and exhaustion, my erect cock added to my needs.

Wadax's hands were… Delightful. And… Maybe it was me, but he added more and more, from one finger until he had the whole hand inside him when He entered…

Garrosh… Fucking… Hellscream. I was moaning like a bitch in heat as the Goblin was fisting my ass, hitting my prostate like pummeling it. And me… I didn't resist even as I gasped for air and saw the Warchief's satisfied expression.

“How's my pet doing?"

“Rather well. His prostate sensitivity is on the rise… As well as his genitals growth, he should be ready," confirmed Wadax as he pulled his hands out.

“R-Eady for what?" I asked, my cock softening after an ejaculation. My body was limp when the guards grabbed me again to put the spreader bar and weight on me. But not only. For once, they also grabbed my cock and started to squeeze and tug at it. I would have loved it… I moaned, groaned… And as their hands departed and blood rushed back inside my cock from the remanent sensations… My cockhead hit against something metallic and cold. I looked down, and saw a cage. A metallic cockcage with only a slit at the end for me to relieve myself when desired.

“You don't need to use that, Pet. Now… Lick."

Garrosh's voice caught my attention. My eyes darted up and went directly over the Warchief's body as I noted his boot. The Guards released me, and without a sound, I dropped on my knees and elbows. I knew… What would happen if I fought back. It was better to accept the situation. My cock might have been hard and painfully squeezed by that cage… But I still crawled towards the Warchief's boots, and like before, I licked them. Dirt and dust were sticking to it. But my tongue continued upward.

Why?

I guess… I was starting to enjoy it. The Orc's smells, the stench from their bushy hair and leathery skin. My mouth followed upward, almost to the limit. And he chuckled.

_“Yes… Good pet," he encouraged as he stepped back with me, holding my tongue out. “He is ready. Let's take him out." _

Again… I was propped on my feet, fitted a leash, and dragged among the corridors. But this time, we didn't pass by Irontusk, nothing but an open hole for guards to fuck whenever they needed it. Though I heard his screams and pleas to be fucked like the failure he was.

“Whe… Where are we going?" I asked, clenching my thighs on the plug that nudged my prostate with… Its cold touch. Under the cage, I was hard like steel and walking was tedious. But I followed as sunlight approached… Something unexpected after what had been a week… or two?

Or was it a month?

However, I wasn't outside Grommash hold. Somehow, we were on a sort of balcony above the population. But a strange sight caught me. A steed. My steed. Silver. A stallion that had helped me well during my previous missions. I saw the beast, clean and its mane brushed. Contrary to me, coated with piss and sick from the changes, it was an example of health.

And I approached it.

It neighed, standing up on its hind legs before me.

“Your beast doesn't recognize you, human. I thought it would be smarter to recognize your stench," noted Garrosh as two guards grabbed my steed by the bridle to guide it further along the balcony. And me along.

“Wh- What is this? What do you want from Silver, Warchief?" I asked, mustering parts of my shattered pride and courage as I walked, outfitted like a sexual slave.

“Are you questioning your master, Pet?" asked Garrosh, sneering. But he approached Silver and patted his neck, soothing him like I did before. “You must have missed your steed, and it missed you. Let's reunite the pet with its steed."

Then… he pointed at something. A sort of wooden support, right at my horse's belly level. I wasn't a Horse breeder but I had seen one of those contraptions before. And I gulped. It was one of those pummel horses terrible knights used to learn to mount and dismount when they were too rough with a horse.

But that one was fitted with many rings and chains and a sort of second part that could close on it… Like… A phantom mare, a fake mare for my horse.

I didn't even try to force against my captors as they dragged me towards it. My balls were still raw, and my body was exhausted from the walk up there. My spreader bar was removed, but neither was the cage nor the cuffs around my ankles. On the opposite side, I was fitted with more cuffs as I was forced to lay on the pommel horse, belly down. They attached my legs and arms to the supports with chains before they pushed my wrecked body and closed the upper part of the contraptions. It was a coffin.

I could breathe through the fitted holes left and right. I could sense the air rushing against my dangling legs. But there was only that box around me, pressing on either side against me. It wasn't… Homely. Worse, it was when, after minutes of remaining alone in the dark, in my thought, I heard my Steed's hooved steps getting closer. I heard Silver neigh as it snorted and smelled the air around.

It didn't recognize me… it wouldn't when I hardly recognized myself in the mirror or by my scent.

However, it seemed tame around the Orcs… I didn't hear its complaints. Then… There was the noise of the wood being crushed under my steed's weight. I heard the crack, the stomp, the hooves clattering against the surface while the steed's warmth was pressed near my exposed ass. I-… I trembled.

“Get it inside. Let them have fun!" said Garrosh, his voice seemingly distant. Too distant.

I… Swallowed, unaware of what I would feel, and I braced myself. Would it hurt? Would I die like I've heard in those tavern songs with lads and ladies? Would I enjoy this? Would they enjoy this?

I trembled like a maiden who had never experienced love or anything. My ass clenched, my rim was tight as I felt something felt, hard, and moist press against my buttcheeks.

“Stop tightening, you idiot!" said one of the guards, gruff and brutal. Just as brutal as the smack on my ass. Those hands, made to bear weapons, could deliver such a spank. I gasped for air and released my grip. Without anything on the path, the guard then… Pushed it inside me.

He pushed the cockhead between my cheeks and aligned it with my loose pucker without thinking. For me, it was alien. I had been fingered and fisted… But… Taken? By a horse, too? I was… Straight, that's what I told myself all that time, an idea I tried to hang on as I thought about my beloved back home.

Silver crushed it all.

It neighed above me, its barrel pressing against the wood as it creaked some more and its hips pushed forward. The cockhead pressed against my hole, and… Somehow, it slipped. Was I so loose there was no resistance? One of the guards confirmed it, way later. But my Steed started to mount me like a phantom mare and to use my gaping asshole.

_It neighed again, jumping on its hind legs to better grasp the “female" it mounted. _

Inside me, I felt the throbbing and quivering mast press on and ransack my hole, stretching my inner walls further than anything Wadax had done. And better than that… That horse cock was… Perfect to give my love spot a nudge. Then another, and another. Its sheer weight and volume crushed and pressed on the tight spot, producing warm waves that moved along my spine. Did it hurt? Yes. I gasped for air, my jaw dropped, and saliva slipped from my mouth as each movement unraveled my mind. It hurt a lot, to have your guts so… Stretched from the inside, it was no different from gut punches I've received from bullies.

But from inside, with no way to protect oneself.

_And yet… Followed along with the pleasure, albeit constrained by the cockcage I wore at that moment. _

My cock pressed against the cold steel, crushed by the walls that wouldn't let go while my Steed kept jumping and neighing, ceaselessly teasing me and pushing me towards the edge. My hands… They grasped the void, the air… I wish I could have gotten them on my dick to stroke it, despite the cage, despite the bounds, despite everything, and then the shame.

However… There is nothing to say.

I was fucked by my steed, my body and head hidden away while its thick cock plunged deeper within me. It squeezed inside until the median ring was gone and then some. Until even those bloated nuts in that tight scrotum smacked against my ass in echo to Silver's movements. I trembled and quivered, my head swirling. I gave my rose to a horse and… It was good. So good, in fact, I bit my lips and wondered if… If everything was like this. If everything was… As good as this.

Females… Girls. They were taking dicks and seemingly enjoying themselves when they were taken. Whores cry just as loud as I did. Was this different? Was this love? Was this sex? A pummeling, crushing, painful, but delightful sensation you welcomed inside you?

I wasn't in control of my body or mind. Maybe it was… from the food I had been given, riddled with enough drugs, my tongue had grown accustomed to it. But for that moment, lust was… The only thing in my mind. Lust and desires, and pleasure, and needs…

They welcomed the battering I received from that thick and yet flat cock pressing inward deeper, until breathing and moving became challenging. He ruined my ass, ruined me, ruined my soul, ruined everything I was… Alric.

And soon, I… broke.

“Y- Yes," I mumbled into the silence of my coffin, the sound muffled by the neighs and the cheerings. I mumbled a weak yes as the Horse's cock hammered my prostate, crushed, squeezed. It pressed, it rammed, it weighed against the tender organ until… Until I gave out. Until my hole squeeze, my balls clenched… And I shot.

Once, twice, thrice… And then some. An orgasm that was longer than with a whore's mouth, with my hand, or Wadax's hand. I shot… And cried, with pleasure.

The inside of my cage was riddled with fluids, and my cock softened when I felt the Horse's ejaculation, too. Hot, delicious, cum. It poured within me like a flood until I sensed the pain from my bloated guts. And… That pain vanished when Silver pulled away and stomped like a wronged beast. I gasped for air as a flood of cum dripped from my gaped hole.

But… Garrosh wasn't done.

“Tell the guards to take turns!" he chuckled as he snapped, and something was dragged behind me. A stand so people could take me. And first among them was Garrosh. He fucked me… But in that instant, my sore ass was so loose I couldn't sense anything. Not from Garrosh nor any guards from the whole garrison. My ass was a mess. A broken mess that gaped and gaped… Even to the day after.

When I woke up, I was back in my cell, reeking with fluids. Piss and cum alike, it seemed. My mouth was parched, my body a wrecked mess. Still, I stood up through the pain and saw myself in the mirror.

_I saw the gray-skinned Orc in it… Bald with dark tufts of hair growing all over his face and chest. I saw my perky nipples through the bushes, my softened belly. My wide arms and hunched figure. Through the pain, I approached and brought a finger to my mouth, pulling on my lips. My tusks… They were almost there, two spears pointing up. Maybe there were some remnants of my face in how my brows were inclined or my filled cheeks, but it was… It would be changed and washed away. _

There were no more traces of Alric of Stormwind. Even if I got free, who would recognize me and… See who I was. I reeked, too… And…

As I brought a hand on my sore ass, my gray skin took a redder shade. I still reminisced about the sensation of Silver's hard cock within me: from the pulse and throb, to the constant pressure against my prostate. Thinking about it… My cock strained against the steel, hard like a spear. It had been something better than… Anything before. With whores, with myself… I yearned for more, and in my lust-addled perversion, I slipped a finger within me, finding my hole still ripe and creampied.

I… Could finger myself. I was tempted to do so… And I did. I fingered myself like a vulgar whore, played with my holes… And my nipples until each was in pain and needy, and I was about to climax. Wadax had shown me where, and Silver had confirmed what I needed. And I squeezed that little spot repeatedly, trembling and quivering, a mess.

“M-More," I moaned to myself as my climax rose and… arrived. But not like the fireworks I expected. I came, but only one shot.

I stood there… Trembling, quivering before the mirror, my face covered and distorted by shame. And fear. Of what I was becoming.

By then… The door flung open, and Wadax entered for his inspection, following the routine, albeit distorted. He would always examine me in the morning, allow me to clean myself… Then I would be dragged to the “barn," as I called it, or the toilets. Either way, I would end my day fucked by the soldiers and guards dwelling in Grommash hold. My life… My whole existence had turned into a mockery and a fucktoy for my captors. However, none were able to notice the constant erection I sported. None noticed my pathetic ejaculation or seemed to care. I… I had turned into a slut, and each passing moment within the Hold was a delight for my lust-addled mind.

“Are you enjoying yourself, pet?" asked Garrosh… Hellscream.

_I turned and twisted, expecting him and his cohort of guards. But he was alone in there, looking at me. For once, I was clean. Wadax had come to my cell to clean me but left me there without the guards to leave me alone. _

_Usually, it meant Garrosh had something else in mind for me. Yet, that time, it seemed different. Our heights were similar, as were our strengths. He and I were similar—two orcs, though his skin was dark brown, whereas mine was gray like ashes. _

_My tusks were fully formed, and no traces of my previous identity could be seen… In fact, I had started to pick up words in Orcish. _

He looked at me with that smile, bearing no armor. I had seen him naked before, seen him and his cock. But never alone and… For me. I watched his body, a canvas of tattoos and brands he had received, from rituals or not with the rituals. I observed the muscles coiling and uncoiling beneath that leathery skin. I gasped at the scent I perceived from him: steel, blood, and sweat. I felt my cock stir when I observed the tufts of hair here and there… And then, his boots were the only thing he had kept on.

“Yes. Master." I answered. Not in common, in Orcish.

He smiled back and pointed to his boots.

I did not wait; I did not expect any further orders as I crawled on all fours to kiss the metal on them, tasting the soil and dirt sticking to them. I kissed them until the steel shined like a second sun. My mouth continued up. I went along his hamstring, so defined and tense with each step. His thighs were wide as a trunk and could carry his entire body. I moved along his waistbelt, my mouth drooling over the width.

My tongue graced his abdominal muscles, tentatively counting each and the different aromas between the folds. Then, over his pecs, recently shaved but whose masculine scent clung to the skin. I tasted it as I looked up… And saw him smile.

“Good pet," he said, with a genuine tone that made my heart flutter and my face heat up. His hand reached my nape and made me gasp. He brought my mouth closer to his shoulder and made me kiss the bulging muscle as he flexed. And flexed some more, guiding me… Along his biceps, dancing against the triceps, traced along the elbow to sense the tension within the extensors. One… After another. I kissed each, followed along the arm and hand until my mouth and chin were against his wrist. And then in his palm.

He pinched my jaw to force me to look up.

“Excellent. What are you now?" he asked with a smirk, his tusks beautiful in the lamplight.

“I… Don't know, Master," I answered in common. “You changed me. I… Am no human. I am a pet."

“Not entirely. Not yet, Alric Bruteslut," he said with a demeaning tone as his hand pulled me down. Then, he slipped it along my nape to guide me before his cock. My parched lips were ready, eager as I applied them against his resting shaft. I… Was thirsty and needy. “There is a part of you which acts as if you were a free human. But you are a pet. We will correct this."

“… Will… it hurt?" I asked, trembling as breathing against his throbbing cock, my mouth and nose rubbing against his pubes to enthrall myself with that scent.

“It will."

His confirmation was grim. And grimmer was his snap, followed by one guard entering. My eyes looked left, but I barely needed to glance. I knew that one, he that had been… Training me. But his mere presence made my ass and scrotum clench.

“You understand it, pet," said Garrosh as he stroked my bald head and used a finger to guide his half-hard cock into my mouth, between my tusks.

I trembled, sickened by an intimate knowledge. I was to be fixed.

But once my Master's cock was in my mouth, I was pacified. I nursed on his shaft as he sighed and warm, salty, and delicious piss graced my tongue. I closed my eyes and inhaled his masculine orcish scent while the Guard knelt behind me and grabbed me by the testicles. His ungloved hands were calloused and rough in their handling, but they were soon squeezing my organs as… Energy coursed through them. I felt the hair on my scrotum stand up… And the breeze against the skin.

“Look at me, Bruteslut," ordered my Warchief, his eyes down.

I looked up and faced my Warchief with his golden eyes. I swallowed my fear and regrets and controlled my legs and muscles. I clenched, naturally and as expected. But I didn't step away from the Guard's grasp nor from Garrosh's gaze. He smiled and smirked. He looked at me with that arrogance I learned to love and desire.

“Good. If you keep eye contact until the Guard is done, I will not ask them to heal you back," he said… And snapped.

I gulped, hearing that sound. Like a reflex, my legs contracted, and my neck stiffened. My body… A primal fear dared to threaten me… Dared to make me look away and satisfy Garrosh's curiosity. I wanted, indeed, to turn away and run, flee, disappear. For the crackling sound echoed in my ears…

And followed the shock. The deafening spark.

“ARGH!" I gasped at first, my heart pounding in my chest as the first spark ran through my spine. But the second crackling followed, like a whip against my soul. Again, and again.

It was akin to being stabbed and hit… And flailed, and tortured.

I bit my lips to blood, my blood-shot eyes focused on my Warchief, smirking and mocking. He looked down on me as… His guard worked. Yet, he snapped.

“Make it more intense."

My ears were ringing from the pain as the Guard did as ordered. The crackling thunder echoed within the room, and my testicles were set afire from within. Sparks after sparks, they jumped from one of the Guard's hands to the other, scarring the flesh. Would they have caught fire, I wouldn't have been surprised. Such power, such magic. It wasn't a power to use and abuse. Yet, the Guard did… I heard him chuckle, too, satisfied as he dug his fingers within my testicles… Until it would be left barren and sterile. Then, He laughed, too, as he watched my shaken expression and heard my whimpers.

“You will be fixed, Pet. No traces of your human self anymore. Nothing shall be left of who you were once I am done with you."

_His words were portend, brutal…. But true. He had me neutered with magic, as my last human parts were fried and… Through the shock, a few tidbits of cum poured from my caged cock. It wasn't an orgasm, it wasn't pleasure… Rather my prostate clenching and my muscles answering with spasms. Droplet… After droplet. Each weaker as they added to the pile of grime within this Cell. _

I remember the pain, the suffering, the agony as my Warchief looked at me… I finally screamed in pain. I teared up, but I dared not to look away. I dared not, for I would endure more. For my testicles would remain the target of his abuse. He would have them healed.

_Do you understand? _

By… By killing them, he was freeing me of my punishment. By neutering me, he fixed my body and helped me reach a purpose. I… I cannot thank him enough. I cannot praise him enough because who I was before meeting him was gone. And I was given… Something else. A stronger body. A focused mind. A discipline I lacked. A love I couldn't deny. And a future I could look up to.

“… You should accept it, Human. You, too, will be given a purpose," I say as I keep my loincloth lifted, pushing amidst the pubes to reveal my empty scrotum. After my castration, Garrosh had the tubes tied and my nuts removed, allowing my body to heal and my mind to focus. No more needless anger, no more needs. Those weights were hindering me and stopping me from reaching greatness. He also removed my cage… But my massive limp cock is nothing to worry about. All my pumping blood is for my Warchief.

“This… Is… A torture. He tortured and broke you! And you want him to do the same to us!"

“Yes. And you shall learn, human," I repeat myself, watching that human crawl on the ground like I did. Slowly, I push down my loincloth until it covers my nethers once more. Then… I turn to the Guards, those looking at me with fear and disgust. “The Warchief wants them adequately fed and bathed for the examination."

My Orcish has gotten better with the years, too. To the point, I can express myself clearly to the other Orcs even if they consider me with fear. Maybe it is my body hair, much wilder than theirs, to the point I got called a Gorilla by a Tauren, or is it my achievements. Even as I pass through the Prison's corridors, they step away from my path and sniff the air with their noses up, in disgust.

I took a bath a few hours ago, but it seems not enough for, I, can even catch whiffs of my rough scent.

“Later…"

With a mumble, I pass in front of Irontusk: the old Warrior had become a fixture, a good fuck and satisfying most, along with the many failures that had joined him. Generals, Commanders, mere soldiers who had betrayed our Warchief, failed him and his requests. I cannot participate. But soldiers are welcome in my ward. As I continue, I feel my bladder… is empty, so I do not need to pass by the rows of transforming humans to give them their drinks. As for the Barn, Silver has long gone to become a breeder for a new generation of steeds.

Hence, I progress deeper within the Hold, ignoring the grimaces and scorn.

“Has Garrosh Hellscream arrived?" I ask one of the guards on standby, a newly appointed Troll looking me up and down in awe. Those ones, they're funny. They see my half-torn left ear, the scars covering my skin, the piercings on it. They watch everything as if it's a token of pride.

But as soon as their eyes land on the many tattoos I received beneath my hair, they growl. Slut, Orc Toilet, Bitch, Failed Male, five gold for a turn. When they read those through my pelt, they glance at my pierced nipples and septum with a different tone… Even their eyes narrow. That Troll is no different.

“Bruteslut," he says with a scowl. “He has arrived. But he isn't waiting for you."

“Good. Get out of the way, now."

Despite my reputation, my growl is enough to get them out of the way. And a greenhorn wouldn't even dare to raise his axe against me… I have broken more for less than that, and they know it.

“T- That way," he still says, his voice caving.

“I know my home, recruit. Now, stay on watch."

Always… So stupid. I growl and massage my neck, feeling it stiff as I dare not to imagine what would happen if I'm late to meet my Warchief. Those humans are his long project, and soon, there will be another army, canon fodders, to be thrown on the battlefield.

“Warchief! This is but folly. I ask you to reconsider! These are mere civilians," I hear, feeling instantly relieved. Saurfang is here, hence I can wait. I can hear and savor the moment while the old Orc General, a mere failure from an old era, tries to appeal to my Warchief's feelings to undo another project. Presumably, it would be an assault on the Eastern continent, near Stormwind. The old City will soon fall, like the others.

“I do not care for your consideration, Saurfang. I will do what's necessary for the Horde. As for you, you should take care of what your next moves are. I know you have been in direct contact with Vol'jin. Weigh your words."

I hear Saurfang huff and puff. Even as a well-known General, he wouldn't dare to betray Garrosh. Not another Orc, not when the Horde is winning and finally earning that due peace. I hear him stomp, too, before he gets out and nearly gets on my face as he studies me up and down.

“Go on, pet. Your master awaits," he merely states, nearly spits, before he gruffly steps away.

“He is… Angry," I comment as I enter Garrosh's war room, alone at last. The Guards were sent away, and the place was perfectly set for a meeting. Yet, it is only for the two of us as he smirks towards me.

“He is. But his Anger makes him weak and stupid. He is an impotent General whose remit remains Northrend. He cannot say anything without exposing himself; he knows it. He'll die there, like his son," says my Warchief, his voice cold but true.

Again… Without even being given the order, I doff the harness, covering and biting into my chest, revealing those sizeable pecs and paunch belly. I undo my belt and step away from my loincloth as I stand naked in the war room and kneel, my head barely a few inches from my Master.

“You are right. He won't raise a hand. And you shall conquer Azeroth, Master," I say, my nose dilating as I catch a whiff of his masculine scent as well as the remnants of dust, cinders, blood, and steel. Garrosh has been attacked yet again. Those assaults are too frequent; anyone beyond the Hold could be one of his enemies' puppets. But not me.

I wouldn't dare. I wouldn't dare oppose that hand stroking the back of my neck and that soft, low breathing he has.

“I will. And impose the will of the Horde on everyone and everything. How are our prisoners doing, Pet?" he asks, guiding my head towards his bulging pants and rubbing my nose against the dirty pants. His scent is delectable, a perfume I cannot tire of smelling and filling my soul with. I inhale, my chest puffing up before I exhale, and give the fabric one lick.

“According to your plans. Most have undergone their training. As for the resistant few, they will be broken. I shall see to it, Master. I promise, you will be pleased."

“Do you think your promise is enough for you to get a reward?" he asks coldly.

“No," I mumble, my voice breaking for a second. “But I'll keep striving to give you Azeroth and the Horde you desire."

He scoffs, his eyes going up to the ceiling before his hands move away from my neck. He steps back and… He undoes his belt. He keeps his shoulder armor, his bracers, and his boots on most of the time. But his pants… He rarely opens them for anyone but me.

“Up," he says as his Orchood arises from the fabric's depths like a steel mast. One so big it would dwarf most of the other Orcs. As expected, Garrosh is a monster, but… So I am. So I should be as I stand up and grab my cock from my bushy pubes. I slowly stretch the limp mast, barely able to reach further than a half-chub. Nothing… I shall breed nothing.

“Show me your desire, Pet," he says, scornful but not towards me. He needs an outlet, and I shall grant him one. I sigh, grabbing the length above the middle, and I start to pull on it. My foreskin, long and heavy, forms wrinkles when at rest, and I constantly have to clean it and pull it. An effort I almost do mindlessly as I reveal the golden Prince Albert at the tip. A wide and enormous ring that almost tugs back on the foreskin that covered it. I expose myself to him, allowing him to watch my dark gray cock inflated with blood but nothing more. It has been so long since I have reached a full mast. But only through fucking and… Elixirs.

Today, There is almost no throb, nothing. I let him watch and feast as he owns me.

One more pull, one more pinching, and my cockhead is exposed. Bulbous, more purplish than gray, its wide corona makes a sight I'm almost proud of. That and the golden Prince Albert Garrosh has bestowed on me. The gold ring passes through my skin, through the hole made, but partially amidst my urethra. One that is now wide and wrinkled, and slightly gaping even now. One wrinkled slit I press my fingers against and pull. The flesh isn't dry, it's easier… I sigh, and pull, forcing my hole to open. I feel the cold air against my urethra, against the wrinkled hole, until it gapes.

It gapes so my Master can see its fleshy depths, see the precum and piss impregnating the inner folds, completing the odor I carry. He observes me, smirks at me… And even brings a finger down, pointing towards my wide urethra before he inserts it and fingers my cock as if it is another whore. Another cunt he has claimed over the years in the brothel and beyond.

I gasp… For his fingering is delightful, and his appreciation is desired.

“Your cunt has become tight, Pet. Has nobody used you besides me?"

“Y- Yes. I have been keeping myself, Master. Nobody shall touch my cunt but you, even in your absence and your campaigns."

I tremble as his finger starts a back and forth. Only then to be joined by a second, and a third. My cock… My cunt is wide and large, perfect to welcome him while he fucks that failure of an Orchood. I tremble, swallowing the saliva in the back of my throat as he fingers me and smirks, spreading and smearing piss and precum all over my cockhead while my weak legs quiver. I am unworthy of his love.

“Good Pet. Open it wide for me," he orders.

I follow. My hands leave my length while his digits leave my cunt. Instead, it is I who grabs the sides of that slitted urethra. I pull on the wrinkled hole and pull on the side with three fingers on each side. Lately… I have been thinking about asking me to fist my cocksleeve. But… It would ruin the natural shape of my cock and the desires he gets from it.

What if I become too loose for his taste? What if he doesn't want to grace my cocksleeve with his wonderful seed?

Hence… I keep that desire, my desires, quiet. I am all for him. All for my Warchief as he slowly aligns his cock with my gaping urethra. He pushes forward and nudges the stretched hole. He pushes half an inch only to peel back, smirking and watching for my reaction. Yes, I moan with pleasure because… Nothing else can bring me joy. My cock is numb; my nipples so stimulated I have to ignore and tune down their sensations. But my urethra? My cunt?

It is the best thing I can feel and offer.

One my Warchief is slowly taking, finally going inside the warm depths. One step… Then the other. Our bodies approach, and I watch his golden eyes going over my sleeve, then over my chest… Then, my face.

“What are you thinking about, Pet?" he asks, scornful as the last inches are fed. His bushy groin joins my cockhead, and so my finger departs… Instead press against my groin, by the base of my cock.

“The joy of being yours, Warchief. Of you using my cunt and claiming it, filling it with your seed. Nothing makes me happier," I drone on, happy to share that thought, that one, as he grabs my cocksleeve.

I can barely feel the pressure outside; my sleeve has grown numb. But as he presses and squeezes, he forces the sensitive walls to push around his massive dick. And I gasp, my eyes nearly rolling in pleasure from the sudden rush.

Within me, I can feel his cockhead, wide and slightly short. I can feel his throbbing and radiant Orchood. And I can enjoy his warmth as he pulls back, tugging along on my wrinkled urethra.

“Your cunt. You love it when I call it that way," he says… And I nod.

“Yes. My cunt, for it is no cock. But a hole for my Master to claim."

“Your… Cunt is delicious, Pet," he then says as he gives my cocksleeve another firm squeeze. I nearly gasp as the walls are rubbing against his cockhead on its way out. He's… Almost crushing my sleeve, forcing the passage to close and for the insides to rub against each other. I tremble… Moan… And salivate, my eyes rolling from the pleasure and praise as he pushes within me and starts to take my cock. My cunt. He forces it with his perfect Orchood.

Before him, my flesh bends and retracts. Under his strength, my limp cock barely resists and… I gasp. I gasp as our groin moves closer and closer, as I feel my inner walls collapse and fold. He keeps pushing while his cockhead is getting closer to my oversized prostate.

But as he does, he keeps massaging himself, massaging me, massaging us both.

“Thank you for giving me one, Master!"

I cry out loud as my eyes water and my face contorts, facing who has wrecked me and my future. He has taken everything: my name, my identity, even my manhood. But how can I hate him when his cockhead hammers my guts and forces me to experience orgasms after orgasms.

Each shock is a blistering mark of love etched within my ruined prostate, as he wrecks it open… And so pours my precum. But nothing more.

Only more lubricant he uses and abuses, making it squirt on the side of my urethra as he, too, nears his climax. I see in his eyes, in his clenched jaw, in his movements. And by the way he ravishes my mouth, our tusks touching and tapped together.

“Say it, Pet," he whispers, his voice low and harsh.

“P- Please." I mumble. I stumble.

“Say it!" he shouts as he hits my prostate, opening it wider and… Making me cry. Another orgasm takes me, making my knees tremble and nearly drop.

“PLEASE! BREED MY CUNT!" I shout… And cum… Pours.

Never mine, never mine anymore. Only his: warm, hot, pure, purified. Better than mine, better than what I had. It is pure Orc cum that drenches my cock, floods my prostate, and narrowly hits my bladder…

But then he pulls out, only to push back… For as long as he desires.

I am his fucksleeve, his pet… Hellscream's Pet.