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Chieftain Dragus looked the prisoner up and down, hanging from the chains bolted to the ceiling of the cell. The young orc warrior had been stripped down to just a loincloth and was displaying bruises from the fight that had erupted when he had been discovered and had resisted his arrest, patches of purple marring his green leathery skin. In one hand, he held the prisoner’s collar. It looked normal, identical to those on the necks of every orc in Lord Redtalon’s domain, himself included. The warmth of the circle of enchanted metal wrapped around his own neck was a constant source of comfort. But this collar didn’t work. Whether it was a fake, or a real one whose enchantments had been negated somehow wasn’t known. That’s part of what he was hoping to discover for his master, Lord Redtalon… “You’ll get nothing from me!” The prisoner, whose name was Grok, glared defiantly at him. “We’ll see about that.” Dragus said. “Although why you’d want to resist is beyond me.” “Of course, it is!” Grok snarled. “That collar keeps you enslaved to that damned demon! It makes you subservient and obedient to him, never questioning, never desiring freedom. It makes your greatest desire and ambition in life to earn a place in his harem.” That was true at least. Dragus fantasised regularly about earning a place in his Lord’s harem, spending the rest of his days serving the demon’s insatiable sexual appetites. “Serving Lord Redtalon is our proper place.” Dragus stated. “We belong to him. The collars keep us in our place, keep us from straying. We orcs should not be free…” “Yes, we should!” Grok said. “We orcs are meant to be free and proud! We were before that blasted demon collared every last one of us! But we will be free again, we won’t stop until we have succeeded and…” “We?” Dragus chuckled. “So, there is more than one of you with a non-working collar? More than one who has their free will? Thank you for that information. I guess I did get something from you after all!” The prisoner grimaced at his slip up, falling silent and staring angrily. “Tell me the names of the others.” Dragus demanded. Grok balked at the request. “You really think there is any chance of me doing that?” The stocky orc chief laughed a deep rumbling laugh. “Oh, I think there is a very good chance of you doing exactly what I ask!” He snapped his fingers and his assistant rushed into the cell, a small scrawny orc in simple leather shorts and boots, with a satchel slung over a shoulder. “The gift from our Lord.” Dragus barked. His assistant nodded submissively and rummaged in his satchel, pulling out a small box. The chief orc took it and flipped open the lid. Inside was a collar, newly forged and freshly enchanted with Lord Redtalon’s power. Dragus held it up for the prisoner to see, enjoying the look of fear that crossed Grok’s face as he realized what was about to happen. “No!” The young orc growled, struggling and straining against his restraints. “I will not go back to being a mindless slave!” “You will.” Dragus said, stepping towards him. “You need to be put back in your proper place as one of our Lord’s loyal servants. And the first thing you will do is tell me all about the other orcs who are secretly free. And then you will be spending the rest of your days assigned to a platoon of warriors as a lowly servant, polishing their armour, cleaning their clothes, satisfying their sexual needs. The arrangements have already been made.” Grok struggled and protested as Dragus approached, but restrained as he was there was nothing he could do to prevent the chieftain shoving the new collar on around his neck. Once the built-in lock clicked shut, the young orc warrior stopped his writhing, his whole body shuddering and then relaxing. The warrior looked up at Dragus, now wearing a contented smile on his face. “Thank you, my Chief.” He said. “Thank you for putting me back in my true place as a servant of our Lord.” The big chief nodded. “You’re welcome. Now, tell me all about the other free orcs.” Grok happily obeyed. “It started with a warrior named Garzan. During a battle against our Lord’s enemies, his collar was damaged, freeing his mind. He knew he would quickly be re-enslaved if discovered, so continued to act as a loyal servant of Lord Redtalon. He eventually discovered how to disable the collars of others and started secretly freeing orcs one at a time, hoping to eventually build an army of free orcs large enough to rise up against our Lord and free all orc-kind.” “I see.” Dragus said. “And how many of these free orcs are there?” “Now that I am again properly enslaved,” The young orc prisoner said. “There are a total of forty-seven.” “Do you know their names?” “Yes, my Chief.” Dragus motioned to his assistant, who promptly reached into his satchel and pulled out a quill-pen and a piece of parchment. “Then list them all for my assistant.” As Grok listed the names and his assistant quickly scribbled them down, Dragus started planning in his head. With the names, it would be easy enough for the still loyal troops to round up these ‘free’ orcs. There was already a stack of new collars waiting for them. Before too long, each and every one of them would be back to being a loyal and devoted slave. His thoughts turned to the moment he gave his report on this to Lord Redtalon. He was desperately hoping he’d now done enough to earn a place in the demon’s harem. He yearned so badly to be his Lord’s sexual plaything, to feel the demon’s cock slamming into him, to be filled with his seed. Perhaps that would finally happen, perhaps not. It was not his place to decide. It was his place to serve and obey his demonic Lord. He didn’t care if his place was the result of an enchanted collar brainwashing him. All he cared about was being the best orc slave he could possibly be and earning his Lord’s approval. And he knew that soon enough, it would once again be all these ‘free’ orcs cared about as well… Garesh stepped into the hut cautiously, unsure of what he might find. When he had briefly spoken to Kray earlier, he had been left with the impression that the shaman had something planned, and his insistence that he pay him a visit that night, in spite of the command of their tribe’s chieftain, had further cemented that idea. The burly muscle-bound orc warrior glanced about the darkened interior, resting one dark green hand on the hilt of his sword as a precaution. A part of him wished he’d thought to don his armour before coming here just in case of trouble, rather than being simply dressed in a simple loincloth and boots. He tried to tell himself he was being paranoid. Having been in the shaman’s hut so many times, he could tell nothing was disturbed or out of place. But the chief’s threat of banishment remained in the back of his mind. “Kray?” He called out. “Are you here?” “Of course, I am, my love.” Came the reply. A tall and lithe orc stepped out through the doorway that led to the building’s back room, wearing a worn hooded cloak painted with mystical symbols and an elaborate ceremonial loincloth that was the standard attire of the tribe’s shaman. Instinct took over and Garesh relaxed, padding forward and embracing the shaman, holding him tight. Kray returned the hug fiercely before pulling him into a passionate kiss. The orc warrior allowed himself to enjoy the kiss, just as he always did, pressed up against the one he loved more than anything, tongues exploring each other’s mouths, tusks knocking together. He loved Kray with all his heart, which was pounding in his chest. Whenever he was with him like this, feeling warm and loved, cock stirring beneath his loincloth, all seemed right with the world. Unfortunately, the world had made it clear it had other ideas. It took some effort, but Garesh pulled out of the kiss, breaking the embrace and stepping back. “We can’t do this anymore, Kray.” He said sadly. “You know that. The chieftain said…” “I know what he said, Garesh.” The shaman interrupted. “I was there too.” The warrior nodded silently, recalling the meeting with Chief Druzal the week before. Somehow, he had discovered their relationship and made it clear what he thought of it, how he believed it to be against the Gods and nature. Out of respect to how much they had both done for the tribe, he had given them a chance to end things and stay away from each other. If they didn’t, then Kray would be imprisoned, as his skills were needed for the good of the tribe. But being a warrior, Garesh was more easily replaced. He would be banished and declared an enemy of the tribe, and killed if he tried to return. They had spent almost all of the past week apart, and it had been hell, Garesh’s heart aching horribly at the separation, but it had to be done. There was no other way and… “I’ve found another way, my love.” Kray said, breaking into a huge grin. “Did you really think I would let some petty small-minded chief come between us and our happiness?” Garesh didn’t understand. “What other way?” He asked, clutching at the hope that his lover really had figured something out. Kray chuckled and took the warrior by the hand. “Come. I’ll show you.” He led him through to the back room. In the other room, lit by a multitude of candles and lanterns, Garesh was shocked to find Chief Druzal. The elder orc was on his knees, staring into space with a distant, glassy-eyed expression. He seemed to not notice them as they entered. “What is this, my love?” Garesh said, glancing between Kray and the chief. “What have you done to him?” “Our dear chief is now in a deep trance, under our control and his mind completely open to suggestion!” Kray laughed. “In this state, he will accept anything we tell him as the absolute truth. It will permanently alter his mind, his thoughts, his feelings. These changes will remain even after I release him from this state with the antidote!” “How?” Garesh asked, his mind already racing with possibilities of having control of the tribe’s chieftain. “After his ultimatum to us, I searched for a solution in my old books and scrolls.” Kray explained. “And found a recipe for a potion that would allow us to change Druzal’s mind. It was incredibly difficult to concoct, and I wasn’t certain it would work until I invited him to my hut for a drink and slipped a few drops into his ale.” The orc shaman stepped over to the chief and playfully patted him on the head. Druzal didn’t react. “Now he’s all ours!” Kray said, beaming with pride. “You are just as wonderful and magnificent as always!” Garesh said, grabbing Kray and hugging him again. “My clever, talented, unstoppable shaman.” “Anything for you, my big handsome, rugged warrior.” Kray purred, returning the hug. This time, it was the shaman who broke the hug. “We’d best get to work and do what we need to do.” The warrior nodded his agreement, focusing his attention on the kneeling chief. “So, we just tell him things?” “Pretty much, yes.” Kray said. “Let me demonstrate.” He stepped toward the elder orc in his trance. “Druzal!” He said. “Can you hear me?” “Yes…” The chief said, his speech slightly slurred. “You will no longer have a problem with me and Garesh being together.” Kray told him. “You will be happy for us and recognize that we are truly in love and belong together. Do you understand?” “I understand…” Druzal slurred. The shaman smiled at his lover. “It’s that simple. Want to give it a try?” Garesh grinned back at him, thrilled at being in control of the chief that had caused him so much heartache. The was a temptation to use it for something horrible as revenge, but he resisted it. That wasn’t who he was. “Druzal,” he said. “You no longer have any problems with relationships between males. You will announce to the tribe your approval of mating and sexual activities between males. You will tell all that the Gods themselves spoke to you and told you it was the way things should be. Understand?” “I understand…” The chief orc replied, taking in and accepting everything he’d been told. “Very nice.” Kray said, smiling his approval. “Druzal, if anyone in the tribe has a problem with any of that, you will send them to me. I will give them a drink and change their minds. Literally.” The shaman glanced to his workbench, at the large vial of the potion he’d brewed. There was more than enough to change the views of every orc in the tribe if necessary. “I understand…” Druzal repeated. “That’s our future secure, love.” Kray said, grinning at his lover. “Excellent!” Garesh said, beaming happiness. “But while we have the chance, how about we take things a little further?” “Oh?” Kray loved the mischievous twinkle in the warrior orc’s eyes. “Druzal.” Garesh said. “You yourself will be very curious about sex with males and will want to try it. You will find that you enjoy it immensely and will want to indulge in sex with other males as often as possible. You will come to love the feeling of a cock ramming into your ass as well as the taste of cock. Understood?” “I understand…” Druzal said. Kray laughed out loud. “Very nice revenge, my love! I approve!” Then a thought struck him. “Although, if he is going to regularly engage in male sex, perhaps we should be helpful and teach him a few things? If you’d be up for a threesome, that is…” “You’re serious?” Garesh laughed. As the shaman nodded, he glanced at the kneeling chief. “I suppose it is our duty to help our tribe’s chief. Some previous experience of male sex may very well help him later…” “My thoughts exactly!” Said Kray, with a hearty laugh. “Druzal, strip naked and get down on hands and knees!” As they watched the elder orc obey, pulling off his worn armour and tossing it aside, Garesh asked. “Which end are you going to take? Ass or mouth?” “Oh, I’ll let you take the ass.” Kray smiled. “I know how much you enjoy slamming that thick meaty of your cock of yours into a male’s rear.” “I enjoy slamming it your rear, love.” Garesh corrected. “Druzal’s will make an acceptable substitute for now. But I’ll be wanting to fuck that cute ass of yours before this night is over.” “And you shall have it.” Kray said, cuddling up against the warrior. “My ass will always belong to you and you alone!” “I love you, Kray.” The orc warrior breathed, nuzzling affectionately at the shaman. “I love you too, Garesh.” The orc shaman replied, before pulling him into another kiss that seemed to go on forever as neither wanted to break it. But eventually they did, and together they looked at Chief Druzal, now naked and on all fours, waiting for further instructions. “Let’s get to showing our dear chief a good time, love.” Kray said, slipping off his cloak. “It should be quite an education for him!” Garesh was removing his loincloth. “Indeed! And may this be the first of many times we educate him in such a fashion!” “That’s my big horny warrior!” Kray laughed, taking his lover by the hand and leading him over to where Druzal was waiting. They were soon rutting away, Garesh slamming his cock into the chieftain’s ass, Kray plunging his into Druzal’s eager mouth. The warrior and the shaman gazed lovingly into each other’s eyes as they fucked the chieftain hard and rough, sharing a knowing smile. They were ushering in a new era for their relationship and their tribe and they couldn’t have been happier.
Kurg could hardly believe his luck. When he’d volunteered to check the rest of the cave he and his hunting party where using to shelter from the raging storm, it had just been to spend some time away from his fellow hunters. He wanted to grab some solitude away from their scorn and bullying of him for being the smallest and weakest of the males of tribe. As if that had been his choice or in any way under his control. He was still somewhat formidable as orcs went, green-skinned and heavily built, just not quite as big and muscular and savage looking as fellows. His place as the ‘runt’ of his particular tribe was just something he’d got used to and learned to endure. So, he was simply not used to good luck, to something good happening to him. Like when his searching of the cave had turned up something amazing. Hidden away in a small side passage he’d found a small crumbling altar of some kind, carved with various mystical symbols the meaning of which he couldn’t fathom. As the light from his flaming torch had illuminated it, he saw that resting on top of it was a magnificent helm. As soon as he saw it, the orc found he couldn’t take his eyes off it. It was gleaming and ornate, with curled horns and gold edging, with lines of tiny symbols criss-crossing its surface. It looked completely out of place in this dark cold cavern. It was like a work of art. And as Kurg drew closer, he could feel the power radiating from it. Even to his senses, he could tell this helm was enchanted in some way, that it held great power. He could practically smell the magic emanating from the thing. He’d made a real find here… But then he sighed as he realized there was no way he was going to get to keep it. His fellow orcs, back making camp at the mouth of the cave, would be able to tell its power just as much as he could, and would easily take it from him. But at least this magical artefact might do the tribe some good, even if it wouldn’t be through him… But I could at least try it on while I have the chance, couldn’t I? The thought popped into his head and he seized on it. Yes, he could try it, see what it felt like, perhaps discern what manner of enchantment it held. With no hesitation, Kurg carefully set his torch down on a dry rock and stepped up to the altar. Gingerly, he lifted the helm, his fingers tingling slightly as its power coursed through him before he’d even put it on. With a deep breath, the orc slipped on the elaborate helm. At first, he was certain it was too big for him, but a moment later it was mysteriously a perfect fit, settling comfortably on his head, his eyes lining up exactly with the eye holes in the faceplate, the lower part being wide enough to accommodate his tusks. As soon as the helm was in place, he felt a surge of power wash through every fibre of his being. Kurg suddenly felt stronger than he ever had before in his life. He felt a confidence that he had never known before. And he immediately knew he would not be giving up this helm, not matter what. He was suddenly absolutely certain he could defeat his fellow orcs if they tried to take it. After all, he was the one who’d found it, it belonged to him, he was the one who deserved to wield its power and dominate everyone who stood in his way. Dominate? That thought felt strange and out of place. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. With the power of this helm at his disposal, he should be the one in charge. After a lifetime of being on the receiving end of the harassment of those more powerful than him, now it would be his turn. Starting with the others of the hunting party. Snatching up his torch, Kurg made his way back to the mouth of the cave, revelling in the thrill and the pleasure of feeling so powerful and mighty, of knowing that all who opposed him would fall before him. He knew that his life had now turned a corner, had changed irrevocably, and he loved it. The three other orcs of the hunting party looked up from the small camp fire they were huddled around as he approached. Beyond them, he could still see the pouring rain, the storm had yet to clear outside. He casually tossed aside his torch as he no longer needed it. “Where you been runt?” Gazok demanded. He was the head of the hunting party, one of the biggest and meanest warriors of their tribe and one who always seemed to take great pleasure in making Kurg’s life as difficult as possible. Kurg didn’t answer, he just kept on stalking towards them, although he was starting to wonder what exactly he was going to do when he reached them, a small sliver of doubt flickering through his mind. As Gazok stood up to confront him, one of the others, a brown skinned burly orc by the name of Farack squinted in Kurg’s direction. “What’s he got on his head?” The third orc, an expert tracker named Drez, also focused his attention on Kurg. He sniffed at the air. “Whatever it is, it reeks of magic!” “So, the runt found himself a little enchanted helmet?” Gazok laughed. “Hope you don’t expect to keep it. I’m the leader here. Hand it over.” Coming to a stop a short distance from them, Kurg kept his silence, trying to figure out what to do next. He knew for certain he was not going to give up his new helm. But at the same time, he wasn’t sure exactly how he was going to deal with these three. “Being difficult, eh, runt?” Gazok grumbled, stomping towards him. “Very well, if it’s another beating you want, I can provide. Then I’ll rip that damn thing off your head.” NO! The thought ripped through Kurg’s mind. Some kind of instinct kicked in and he mentally directed the power of the helm at Gazok, feeling it explode from him and crash towards the other orc. His vision seemed to turn red before he realized the eye holes of the helm were glowing slightly. Gazok stopped in his tracks, a weak strangled cry escaping his throat. A blank expression settled on his features as his eyes briefly glowed red. Kurg realized that his tormentor was now under his power, at his mercy, his mind an open book he could rewrite as he saw fit. The desire to control and dominate surged through him again as he poured his newfound power into Gazok’s mind, twisting and distorting it… This other orc was beneath him, a voice in his head said, and his mind should reflect that. Gazok should be a lowly mindless slave! Was that really what he should do? The doubt entered Kurg’s thoughts and crumbled away almost instantly. Of course, it was what he should do! He had the power now! He should use it to control and dominate and enslave! Before he even realised he was doing it, Kurg had instinctively used his power to remould Gazok’s mind, enslaving him, rendering him loyal and devoted and obedient. “Kneel, slave!” Kurg growled, in a voice far more vicious than it ever been before. The bigger orc obeyed, dropping to his knees. “Yes, Master!” Gazok said, staring at Kurg with adoration. “I live to serve you!” It was such a thrill, a rush of pleasure, to see Gazok like that, ready to obey his every command, at the mercy of his every whim. He laughed out loud at the sight, wondering what humiliating thing he should have him do first. Farack and Drez were on their feet at this sight, hands going for their weapons. “What the fuck have you done, you slimy little runt?” Farack snarled. Knowing he didn’t have to fear them anymore, Kurg regarded them with a disdainful smile. What was better than a loyal slave? Three loyal slaves! He briefly wondered if he was doing the right thing, but another surge of power and strength from the helm wiped away that doubt. Summoning up the power of the helm once more, Kurg discovered he could enslave multiple minds at the same time. And it felt so much easier this time, now he knew how. A glance in their direction, a mental command, and the power blasted forth from the helm and ripped through the minds of the two orcs, washing away their free will and instilling the desire to serve him for all time. There was nothing they could do about it as their eyes briefly glowed, his power taking hold of them. Their bodies went limp, their expressions blank. A few seconds later and Farack and Drez were his slaves, utterly devoted to him. “Kneel beside Gazok, slaves!” Kurg commanded. “Yes, Master!” The two newly enslaved orcs said in unison, rushing forward and dropping to their knees beside their former leader. Kurg looked at the three of them, laughing with delight. That had all felt so good! So perfect and right! And it proved that he deserved the helm and its power, that he could wield it so easily and completely. The desire to make use of his new slaves rose up within him. He had never considered sexual activity with other males before, but now it seemed the most obvious thing in the world to use his slaves to satisfy his needs, to dominate them sexually as well as physically and mentally. He was already undoing the front of his trousers when he started barking commands to his slaves. “Farack, Drez, get over here and lick my boots clean, take a foot each.” “Yes, my Master!” Drez said, eagerly. “As you command, Master!” Farack added. As the two of them scampered forward to get to their task, Kurg pulled his cock out of his trousers. It was already hard at the thought of what was going to happen next. “Gazok, get over here and worship your Master’s cock!” “It would be an honour, Master!” Gazok said, rushing forward and taking Kurg’s plump green cock into his mouth. Pleasure unlike any he had experienced before washed over Kurg as his meat was sucked. He could see he was going to enjoy have three slaves to play with. But why stop there? He had easily enslaved these three. He could easily do the same with every orc in the tribe! He could be the chieftain, in control of all! An entire tribe enslaved to his will, eager to obey his every command! That would be amazing! And beyond that… why he could easily enslave every tribe out there! Every last orc in the world could become his slaves! He could become supreme ruler of all orc-kind! Each and every one of them a loyal slave devoted to a life of servitude under him! He could do it… No! He would do it! Supreme Ruler Kurg just sounded too good for him not to… As the orc enjoyed the attentions of his slaves, dreams of conquest and domination rolling through his head, something at the back of his mind allowed itself to feel satisfied. After all, its patience had paid off. All those centuries waiting in a cave for the protective magics hiding it to fade, and then more centuries for some fool to stumble into the cave and find it. The damn sorcerers who had attempted to hide away the cursed helm forever had failed. It had only taken the tiniest of mental nudges to get the pathetic orc to put it on. And then it had a new host to corrupt and manipulate, to guide in the ways of domination and enslavement. This orc Kurg had taken to it all so quickly, he was easily influenced with pleasure and power. And the longer the orc wore the helm, the greater its hold over him would become. It was just a matter or time before Kurg was little more than a puppet, just as enslaved as all the orcs he was planning to conquer. On that day, the mystical entity within the helm would be the true Supreme Ruler of all… |
Multi-Part Stories / Short Stories