The Orc has her property marked

Marcus sniffled wetly, his right thigh stinging and hot. He was kneeling in a corner of the shaman's tents, his cheeks stained with tears, having just suffered through one of the worst experiences of his life. Against the soft, pale skin of his thigh, a dark blue tattoo had been etched into his flesh by the hands of the cruel Shaman. He'd had to lie down on a mat in the center of the tent while she used painful needles and ink to prick him over and over in that same tender spot, each sharp sting more painful than the last. Even worse, the tattooed Orc had spent the whole time staring at him hungrily, her stiff, pierced cock bobbing in the air between her legs. When she was finally done, young prince had been slumped back and sobbing hoarsely, exhausted by the pain, his thigh so sore he could hardly breathe.

The end result was a curved symbol he'd never seen before, made up of swirling lines curling round each other like snakes to form a circle. It must mean something to the Orcs, since Shaharza had spent quite a lot of time looking at it with a satisfied smile as soon as the Shaman was finished. Then she'd smacked his butt hard and told him he was properly hers now, with a savage grin that had made him cry even harder.

The pain was bad enough even now, a stinging burn sinking deep into the reddened skin around the ink, but worse was knowing he'd been branded there like an animal, marked as the warchief's personal property. Even if they were ever rescued from this awful place, the young prince knew the horrible tattoo was never coming off his skin. Every time he looked at his thigh for the rest of his life he'd have to remember what the Orcs had done to him. Getting his throat filled with cock and belly stuffed with cum, being leered and laughed at and smacked around. How his own little dick still throbbed whenever he saw their massive green erections, and his butt ached and clenched around this horrible ivory toy the warchief had stuffed him with to prepare him for her massive cock. This horrible mark on his thigh would always be there to remind him of it.

Now his Mother was getting just the same, held down by Shaharza with two large hands on her shoulders, while the Shaman lent over her trembling thigh. The tattooed Orc was clearly well-practiced at this, her hands steady as she worked, ignoring the Queen's pained sobs each time the inked needles sunk into her skin. Marcus whimpered softly at the awful sight. Seeing his beautiful Mother get hurt like this stung worse than his own sore thigh ever could. And when they were done she'd be marked the same as him, forever branded the property of the massive Orc warchief who'd abused them.

"Give her a fertility charm as well." Shaharza grunted, as the Shaman straightened up, holding a needle deftly in her fingers. "This one's going to be bearing me a lot of young." The Queen let out a hoarse, despairing whimper, but she didn't try to fight even now. The warchief had promised before they'd begun that Marcus would get punished harshly for anything his Mother did to anger her. What could either of them even do? Shaharza was way too big and strong to fight.

"As you wish, warchief." The Shaman nodded. She dipped her needle into more ink, then leant over the Queen's smooth, pale belly, her lip curled in concentration. The young prince bowed his head, sniffling softly. He knew he should be watching at least, trying to give his Mother strength by meeting her tear-filled gaze, but he just couldn't look at this any longer. Instead, he tried to ignore the stinging in his thigh and let his mind drift back to happier times. When he and his Mother had been safe inside the Castle, and all he'd had to worry about was dodging his next boring etiquette lesson. Back then, Orcs were just scary monsters from the books he'd read, and by the end of the story they were always slaughtered by the brave heroine. He'd never imagined he'd ever see one, let along ending up property himself. And in this story, there weren't any brave lady knights to save him. Shaharza could probably squash any human woman who tried with one massive fist. "It's done." The Shaman grunted suddenly.

Marcus couldn't stop himself. He glanced up, even though he didn't want to see what these Monsters had done to his beautiful Mother. The Queen lay across the mat, panting softly with tears glistening in her large, blue eyes. On her pale thigh, there was the same symbol as was tattooed on his own, the skin around looking just as painful and red. Then, just below her stomach, the Shaman had inked another mark at the top of her pelvis, a swirling pattern at the center with two arms extending out towards her flanks ending in a pair of circular spirals. Marcus stared at it in horror. The blue ink looked so harsh against his Mother's pale, snow-white skin, etched there forever.

"Just above your womb, cow." The warchief drawled, her low voice rumbling with satisfaction as she gazed down at the tattoo. "It's a charm to make sure you bear me plenty of young once you're properly bred. We'll see if I can give you twins at least the first time. Then triplets."

"Do as you wish with me." The Queen hissed back, somehow finding the strength to glare up at Shaharza even as tears streamed down her cheeks. "Just don't hurt my son."

"Well, I'm not going to hurt him." Shaharza smirked. "Not exactly, but once I'm done breeding you, it'll be time to replace that toy up his sweet little ass with my cock." Marcus felt his belly tingle with a mixture of terror and utterly unwanted anticipation at those rumbling words. His butt tingled around the horrible ivory, clenching tight, and his dick started aching again. He had to bite his lip until it hurt, trying desperately to stop himself getting hard. His Mother meanwhile, just let out a hoarse sob, shaking her head helplessly.

"Warchief, if I could ask a favor of you, respectfully of course." The Shaman murmured, as she was collecting up her ink and needles. Shaharza turned to her, giving the tattooed Orc a cool stare. "When you are done enjoying the pretty boy, could you consider sending him to my tent in the future, just for a night or two?" The Shaman asked, her golden eyes flickering to Marcus, who shrank back helplessly against the wall of the tent.

"Really, you want him?" Shaharza grunted sourly. "What about your breeder?" She nodded towards the suffering girl still hanging from the ceiling.

"She is satisfactory and I am eager to get her bred." The Shaman replied, without much enthusiasm. "However, the boy is...very attractive to me." Her cock was hard again as she leered across the room at the naked young prince, her golden eyes fixed on his bare thighs. Marcus swallowed anxiously. As terrifying as Shaharza was, this tattooed Orc scared him far more. She'd spanked him raw once already, and seeing the poor girl all trussed up like that, whimpering in pain into her gag, made him worry even more about what the Shaman would do to him. He really hoped the warchief didn't agree to this!

"I'll think about it." Shaharza tossed her hair. She rose suddenly to her feet, grabbing the Queen by the collar at the same time. Marcus' Mother was yanked to her feet with a strangled yelp, and set down on quivering legs. "Get up, boy" The warchief snarled at the young prince. He scrambled to his feet, wincing at the sharp shock of pain that sent through his stinging thigh. Shaharza grabbed the chain still fastened to his collar and pulled it hard. He stumbled across the tent, smacking into her muscled thigh. "I've waited for this long enough." The massive Orc growled, her voice rumbling with lust. "I'm taking you back to my tent, and then it's time to fuck the pair of you."