She chooses the strong one

Author's note: Successful rolls increase Magra's Corruption, making it easier to affect her choices, unsuccessful rolls, especially critical failures will still influence her decisions, just in other ways. I dunno we'll play it by ear.
"Better take the strongest one and make an example of him."

Target > 50

1d100 Roll = 85

Successful Suggestion (+1 Corruption Point)

Magra continued to scan over the crowd of prisoners, looking for a target, but she had already made up her mind. Her gaze returned back to the taller man she had spotted in the crowd. They made eye contact once more, and slowly Magra's scowl turned into a devious smile.

She knew what she had to do, and she was going to enjoy every second of it.

"You!" Magra barked as she pointed at the tall man with brown hair. "Come here!"

The man just looked at her, saying nothing, doing nothing.

"COME. HERE." Magra repeated, more forcefully.

The man crossed his arms defiantly, his eyes still locked with hers.

Magra loved it when they still had some fight left in them.

"Ugash! Sashag! Bring that one here!" The orc commanded.

The two women pushed through the crowd as the prisoners shouted and murmured, some offered meager resistance while others moved to avoid the ire of the orcs.

The man struggled and tried to pull away as Ugash and Sashag each grabbed one of his arms and dragged him through the crowd. When they got to Magra, they tossed him onto the dusty ground at her feet.

The man tried to stand up, but was quickly knocked back down.

"She didn't say you could stand, worm," Ugash growled.

Take them as slaves for hard labor and pleasure to keep your warriors' morale high.

Target > 50

1d100 Roll = 100

Critically Successful Suggestion (+2 Corruption Point)!

Magra felt something stir within her as she looked at the human lying at her feet.

Her heart beat a little faster as she got a better look at his face.

It was course, hard, and rugged with a few small scars here and there that served to further enhance his appearance (to an orc at least). His nose looked like it had likely been broken repeatedly and his whole face had the look of someone who had been in more than his share of tavern brawls and other fights. It was the kind of face that said 'this is a hard man that has lived a hard life.' To a human woman, he likely would have appeared like an ugly brute, but to an orc...

"So what are you going to do with me, huh?" The man spat. "Bore me to ****?"

Magra felt her mouth going painfully dry as she stared at the handsomest man she had ever seen.

She had never found humans attractive. They were too soft, too smooth, to weak and pitiful, but this man... he was different.

Maybe it was of his attitude, or maybe it was looks, or his scent. Perhaps it was just because Magra had forgot to pack her ivory dildo (she had plundered it and it's former owner during her first raid) and hadn't had a chance to release any tension since this raid started. Regardless of what it was, Magra felt a fire growing in her belly... and in other parts as well.

"Well...?" The man asked, almost haughtily, although an astute observer (you know, someone who wasn't a horny orc or a frightened prisoner) would have noticed a note of genuine fear creeping into his voice. "I'm waiting."

Magra blushed. It was hard to see from far away, but her cheeks were definitely changing color, and she could feel her face growing hot.

She shook her head and momentarily closed her eyes in an attempt to regain her focus. Frankly, it was downright cute to see.

"You're mine now," Magra said in a surprisingly soft and quiet voice. She cleared her throat and looked away from the man, towards the crowd of prisoners instead.

"You work for us now," the orc declared. "You do what we say, when we say it!"

She looked down at the man at her feet once again.

"Get up," she commanded.

He did as he was told and complied, but still made a point to try to draw it out in an act of petty defiance.

"You're going to keep digging for gold, and you're going to hand over anything you find to us! Everything you owned is ours now! Your town, your food..." Magra bit her lip as she eyed her new **** up and down "...even your clothes!"

She looked to her two goons and then back to the man.

"Strip him," she command in a low, sensual growl.

In flash, Ugash and Sashag were ripping the rags from his body. He tried to resist, but there were simply too many hands on him to stop it.

The rest of the orcs cheered and hollered like a drunk bachelorette party at a strip club as he was left completely naked, covered in sweat, and now glistening in the sun.

It wasn't just Magra that liked what she saw. All the other orcs were now leering at the human too, and most of them were loving what they saw.

He was quite hirsute, with ample hair on his chest and all along his arms and legs. He was muscular too, not quite as much as an orc, but on his (comparably) smaller frame still quite impressive.

Magra eyed him up and down like a hungry tigress. She cupped his manhood. She was a little disappointed in its size, but still smiled to herself when she heard him gasp and then moan.

"This is ours too," she whispered as she looked him in the eyes.

The rest of the orcs were going wild now, their screams drowning out everything.

The prisoners were less enthusiastic, although more than a few of them were sporting hard-ons of their own now.

When you're finished with him throw him to the rest of the orcs so none of the prisoners dare risk sharing his fate

Target > 35

1d100 Roll = 3

Critically Unsuccessful Suggestion (Magra will choose a course of action that makes her look weak.)

Discipline among the orcs was starting to breakdown as they watched Magra play with her new toy. Soon a few of the other orcs started to fondle and tease slaves of their own.

Magra continued to stroke and tease the new ****. The look of confidence and control slowly disappeared from her face as she felt him growing larger and larger, until finally she looked down and gasped.

He... he was definitely a grower!

"Ooooh, now there's a prize worth plundering!" Snuzu giggled.

The startled Magra jumped in shock as she let go of the man's ample tool. Her face turning a deep violet that EVERYONE could see.

"Looks like you're outmatched Magra," the horny second in-command teased. "You should leave this one to me..."

The one-eyed orc nudged Magra out of the way and started fondling and caressing the handsome (to an orc!) human.

The embarrassed leader stood there as her mind processed what had just happened.

"I'll break this **** in no time..." Snuzu cooed as her busy hands continued to wander.

The **** whimpered as the one-eyed orc plied her sensual seductive talents on him, shuddering and moaning in obvious pleasure.

"H-hey! The handsome's mine! Get your own!" Magra practically whined as she forcefully grabbed Snuzu, making her yelp, and tossed her to the ground.

The **** and Snuzu both looked at her.

"Uh... what did you call him?" The smaller orc asked as she slowly stood up.

Magra's face was as purple as a plum now.

"He's my ****! I claim him! You can't have him!" The flustered orc leader blurted out, sounding more like a whiny petulant child than a leader of warriors.

"Alright Magra, he's yours," Snuzu said as a cool, calculating look spread across her face.

She stood up and slowly backed away while continuing to stare Magra down.

"...for now..."

Magra turned to look at the gathered crowd of orc women and human slaves.

She's still in charge, but that was definitely not a good look for her. She has to do something to move past this, but what?

Should she do something strict to try to look strong and reestablish some discipline? Or perhaps buy the loyalty of her fellow orcs by letting them go wild for a little while?