The Shaman opens proceedings

Dragging them firmly by the chains attached to their collars, Shaharza led Mother and Son through the celebrating Orcs, past massive green monsters eagerly thrusting huge stiff cocks into their wriggling, squealing human captives. Marcus clung to the Queen's hand, both of them squeezing each other tightly, afraid at any moment they were going to be torn away. All the same, the young prince couldn't stop himself from staring. His gaze flickered between grunting Orc bodies, bulging with muscle, and the pale humans they abused. The faces of the women flickered between fear, discomfort and slack, whimpering pleasure. A few seemed barely conscious, lying there in the dirt with mouths hanging open and blank, lust-filled eyes as Orcish cocks plowed into their pussies with wet, smacking noises.

As they stepped past one girl, her cheek pressed into the dirt by the foot of the monster who was pounding her from behind, she let out a shrill, hoarse shriek that made Marcus jump. Her whole body was shaking and trembling, only held up by the hands of the Orc digging into her hips. The young prince shuddered at the sight. There was no mistaking the wild, animal pleasure in her scream. He couldn't imagine how she could enjoy being **** by an Orc so very much. At the same time though, as his anxious gaze flickered over her sweat-sheened, quivering skin and the massive monster slamming into her butt from behind, he felt his own tiny dick twitch and throb between his shaking legs. He blushed furiously and tore his gaze away, but it was really hard not to peek again.

The warchief pulled them to another large tent, the outside decorated with blue painted symbols that resembled that awful Shaman's tattoos. Marcus swallowed anxiously, shuffling closer to his Mother. Her fingers rubbed across his palm, trying to comfort him but she was shivering just as much as he was. Shaharza walked up to the canvas entranceway and ducked inside, dragging them along with one sharp tug.

Marcus stumbled after the huge warchief, his Mother beside him. They were standing inside the tent now, and his nose wrinkled at the thick smell of some kind of incense hanging in the air. His gaze flickered anxiously over a strange alter made of wood and bone, carved with crude images of what seemed to be a massive Orc beating and **** a winged human woman. On top, there was a row of clay bowls, some filled with plants and chunks of burnt meat, but others with a thick white liquid that could only be Orc cum. Marcus frowned in disgust, but he couldn't look away from the slimy surface of the stuff. What would the Shaman need bowls of cum for? The possibilities made him shudder.

Then the Queen let out a frightened gasp, and Marcus stiffened, his gaze darting up to follow hers. There, near the back wall, a young woman was hanging from a rope tied to the roof of the tent. He recognized her as the young wife of one of his Father's courtiers, a very pretty woman whose lavish wedding a few months ago he'd watched in wonder from his window. In her long, white dress, she'd looked so happy as she kissed her loving husband. Now, she was naked and trussed up tightly like an animal, her arms bent behind her back and her knees curled up, all her limbs joined with one coiling knot that she then dangled from. Even her black hair had been tied in a tight ponytail, which was bound by another rope to her ankles. The pressure of the ropes **** her back into a kind of curve, her chest and naked boobs thrust forward. The strain in her muscles was obvious, and just looking at her Marcus felt a pang of sympathetic pain in his back and calves. She was crying and trembling, tears dripping down her pale cheeks, but a cloth gag had been **** into her mouth to stop her even making a sound.

"Apologies, warchief." The Shaman stepped out of the shadows behind the poor girl and bowed her head. Marcus had to swallow a scared little squeak at the sight of the scary Orc who'd spanked him earlier. She seemed even more intimidating now, wearing several necklaces with bone charms hanging over her bare chest and an ivory headdress across her dark hair. The rest of her was naked though, her pierced cock and balls dangling down between her tattoed thighs. "My new breeder showed great disrespect. She is being punished for it."

"What did she do?" Shahaza asked, stepping forward to examine the suffering woman. Her golden eyes flickered over the poor girl's straining body with a kind of cool distaste.

"She spilled my sacred seed after I bred her." The Shaman grunted sourly, eyes flashing. "Her cunt is weak. I shall have to train her better if she is to bear my young."

"This won't distract you during the ceremony, will it Urul?" The warchief tossed her hair.

"No, warchief, it will not." The Shaman replied, a moment of annoyance flickering through her golden eyes. "Bring the slaves forward." Shaharza pulled on the chains, and Marcus and his Mother were yanked up to her side. She unfastened both their collars with her big, green hands and tossed them to one side, then stepped back to loom near the entrance of the tent. Marcus could feel her lingering gaze tracing up and down his naked skin, but he was far more afraid of the Shaman standing in front of him. "Kneel, slaves." The tattooed Orc snapped, glaring at the two of them.

Marcus hurriedly collapsed to his knees, too afraid of her to do anything less. Moments later, his Mother did the same. Her back was straight, and she was trying to look strong, but her pretty blue eyes were so scared and uncertain. The Shaman stepped forward, standing right over the young prince with her soft, drooping cock right in his face. The shaft was glistening wet with a musky-smelling liquid, a few pearly drops of cum clinging to the flared head. Again, his nose wrinkled at the smell of her and he felt heat flood to his cheeks. Knowing what she wanted, Marcus lent awkwardly forward and kissed the tip of that massive shaft. He was breathing hard as he drew back, his own tiny dick aching hard between his legs.

Next, she went to his Mother. The Queen hesitated again, her eyes wide as she stared at the pierced cock dangling in front of her. With a grunt of annoyance, the Shaman grabbed her by a handful of silver hair and thrust her face forward, rubbing her lips forcibly over that drooping shaft. A muffled squealing was the only resistance Marcus saw his Mother offer, her pale boobs quivering on her chest as she was thrust back, breathing hard. Her nipples were really hard again, standing out from the meat of her chest. Nodding her head, the Shaman stepped back and raised her muscled arms high.

"In the sight of the mighty spirits, our ancestors, and under the proud gaze of the Great Ones, I, Urul, Shaman of the Tribe of Stone, prepare to offer up these human slaves to take the mark of our mighty warchief!" She bellowed, her voice shaking the tent with hot fervor. "Shaharza, the Scarred One, whose strength and cunning have led us to these new, green lands, swollen with plenty, and whose axe has won for her these two silver-haired beauties from among the many slaves we claimed, do you take them as your property?"

"I do." Shaharza growled from behind them. The Shaman grabbed a bowl from the alter, this one filled with red powder. She grabbed a pinch in her massive hand and tossed it over the Queen, who gasped in shock.

"With the sacred earth of our long-lost home, I mark this fertile human female as an Orc breeder, from now until her womb stills and she can bear young no longer." The Shaman growled. "May her loins be fruitful, and may the many young she bears match their sire in strength." The Queen shuddered, glistening tears dribbling down her powder-stained cheeks. Still carrying the bowl, the tattooed Orc strode over to Marcus. Even though he was expecting it, the young prince flinched as she threw another pinch of powder over his own face. "With the sacred earth of our long-lost home, I mark this pretty human male as a pleasure-****." The Shaman continued, glaring down at him with golden eyes that burned with hunger. Her cock was getting stiffer right in front of him, twitching and throbbing as it grew to it's full, intimidating length. "May he serve obediently and faithfully in all things. May his young, comely body offer pleasure to all Orcs who use him." She stepped back, her swollen cock bobbing in the air. Marcus stared at the pierced head, his mouth dry and his head hot. He was still so afraid...but all the same his body trembled with the urge to scurry forward and lick her there. "Two fine beauties." The Shaman nodded with satisfaction. "The Spirits rejoice to see them claimed and put to their proper purpose. Now they must take your mark, warchief. To be named yours for all eternity, so that when you pass on in triumph they may continue to serve you in the Halls of the Dead. Where do you want them branded?" Marcus froze stiff, an icy spike of fear working it's way into his trembling heart.