Lean in shyly.

The guards push you along through the foreign tribe's camp, but do not prevent you from talking together. When your father's arm wraps around your waist, you press close, comforted by the strong, masculine scent of him.

"It is useless to resist. son. We are defeated, and the way of defeat is hard. But it need not be entirely unpleasant." You turn to face him and his big, strong hand gently touches a bruise on your cheek. It's embarrassing, especially given the lewd comments and sly observations of the warriors leading you around the warg pens, but you meet his gaze and something in the Elvish side of your heritage stirs at that smoldering regard. "I won't hurt you," He adds reassuringly. "But you were bred for breeding. Your mother's blood will help. You understand?"

Your Elvish blood stirs at the touch and scent of a pure-blooded Orcish breeding-bull. Though you blush to realize it, your own cock is stiffening in your loincloth, and your butthole twitches. You nod, meeting his gaze.

Before you can commit yourself further, the chain that connects you is secured to a heavy post, sunk deep in the earth behind the warg pens. If you were hoping the warriors who brought you there to leave, you are disappointed. At least a few of them seem inclined to stay and watch.