Night of the Orc

By Pup Forte
published November 12, 2019

Danyul, a sad, fat human serving Castle Ealas, has been captured by orcs. Initially fearing for his life, Danyul learns the truth about himself and never turns back.

Danyul couldn’t move when he came to. His head was covered by a sack and, along with his hands, placed into a pillory. He was standing, naked, fully exposed, and he didn’t know where he was. He could hear talking around him intermingled with grunts. He tried to recall everything he could leading up to this. He’d heard the crash echoing through the halls of Castle Ealing. He’d heard the war cries and the screams of terror that followed. He remembered trying to hide under his bed and being too fat to fit. The bed had collapsed on top of him, knocking him unconscious.

Where was he now? Something was covering his head, preventing him from seeing. Was he naked? The air on his exposed cock and balls replied yes. He tried to speak but something had been stuffed in his mouth. He could hear murmuring all around him. The voices were low, gruff, and they were mixed with grunts. Danyul grasped his situation. He was naked, surrounded by orcs, and utterly helpless.

The chatter around him died down suddenly. He heard footsteps approach him from behind and sensed a new presence in the room. He felt things, responses he was unable to process. “Chief Norg’ath presides!” shouted a single gruff voice. “Nurrah!” shouted the voices around him. A wave of panic took him and he struggled against the restraints. He tried to scream.

“Nurrah, friends. We will begin now. Calm yourself, boy, and we will allow you to see and speak.” The voice that said this was gruff but not as rough as Danyul expected from an orc. On hearing the command Danyul’s panic dissipated enough for him to stop screaming and he obeyed despite himself. The sack was pulled over his head and the wad of fabric out his mouth.

When Danyul’s eyes adjusted he looked around as far as he could. He appeared to be in the center of a large tent. Although he saw no openings he presumed it dark out as no light shone through the tent walls. To his sides he saw the orcs at either end of the circle surrounding him. At this moment none were wearing armor and the few weapons they held were small knives and daggers. He was about three feet from an orc like one he’d never seen in his life.

Everything about this orc was massive. His impossibly swollen musculature was wrapped in layer fat that encased his body. His stomach protruded into a belly but still evinced a bulging set of abdominals. His arms were as thick as Danyul’s head and his thighs were thicker still. His skin was true green and though his head was shaved bald his muttonchops and the hair covering his body, arms, and legs were black shot through with silver. He was covered in spiraling tattoos that appeared symmetrical across his center and his left eyebrow held a single bronze ring. A thick pair of tusks protruded from his face and his muttonchops highlighted a strong, angular jawline.

The orc wore a loincloth that, though large, still barely concealed his massive bulge. He had a set of leather bracers on his wrist and wore leather boots with a fur lining poking out of the top. boots. The chair in which he sat was adorned with furs and leather. The right arm of the chair had a chain leading to a large, open, empty collar laying on the ground. On the left of the chair sat a large wooden crate with holes bored into it.

“I am Norg’ath, and I am chief of the Riverpace Tribe,” he said. “Two weeks ago, the Ealings attacked our base at the river’s delta. We did not provoke it and were entirely unprepared.”

“You were preparing an invasion!” screamed Danyul. “We had to protect our farmlands!” The orc at the end of the circle on his left pulled a knife from his loincloth and advanced towards Danyul. He held the knife under his chin. “No!” cried Nog’ath. “It may come to that. But he has a choice.” He turned to Danyul. “We do not make war unless provoked.” He gripped the chain extending from the chair tightly in his hand. “You may not be aware that the Riverpace Tribe has a pact with he Ealings, but we do and we have always honored it. War may come of this and if it be so we will gladly finish it.”

Two orcs walked to the wooden crate, opened it, and removed another naked man. Unlike Danyul this man was lean, strong and fair with long black hair. Lord Arloh Fastnur of Castle Ealas lay before him, bound, with straps holding pieces of dried meat over his eyes, ears, and mouth.

A wave of emotions crashed over Danyul. First was rage, righteous rage for leader and for the purity and sovereignty of the human race. He knew this was the only acceptable response but it remained pure for only a moment or two before it gave way to confusion. He was the lord of the castle and Danyul was a scribe, a glorified librarian. Why was he here, able to speak, while Lord Arloh was still bound? What “choice” could Danyul have that would be denied to Lord Arloh?

He remembered everything he hated about Lord Arloh. Lord Arloh had always mocked Danyul for his weight, for his intelligence, his lack of courage. Mostly, though, Lord Arloh mocked Danyul for his “fear of women.” Danyul wasn’t happy about this. But he had stopped being altogether angry.

“Put him back,” said Norg’ath. “We raided your castle in retaliation and killed all who resisted, which was everyone but you, who we found unconscious beneath your bed, and this one, who surrendered. We were going to take both of you hostage like this for negotiations until I noticed something, perhaps felt something, worth taking a look at.” Norg’ath stood and walked so that Danyul’s face was inches from his chest. “All humans in this part of the country have orc ancestry descending from age of peace. It rarely manifests now. But it has in you, Danyul. We lost many orcs in the attack, many who were dear to us.”

Here, Norg’ath took a long pause before saying “I lost my own mate. He served me well and our bond was strong. When I saw you, Danyul, when I smelled you, I knew that you were fit for me and that you were fit for the tribe.”

At this Danyul strained in the pillory and. “I’m a full human! And…and I love women.” Norg’ath let out a hollow chuckle. “You believed exactly half of that right now. I will show you it is all false.” He lifted his arm. Nor’ath’s pec and back muscles created a recession in his skin that was filled with his dark hair. The orc at the end of the circle on Danyul’s right stepped forward and grabbed Danyul’s hair, allowing Norg’ath to shove his armpit onto Danyul’s face.

Danyul began to curse and strain against the pillory and the orc holding his hair. The smell of Norg’ath’s armpit was overwhelming and Danyul found it revolting at first. He attempted to hold his breath and when he failed each gasp of air was an assault of the musk. At the first gasp he gagged and continued to resist. Another gasp and he felt resignation, relaxing a little, then a little more with the next. Eventually the gasps simply became deep breaths. He forgot about the position he was currently in, the danger, the hatred for Lord Arloh. Everything left his mind but the raw essence of the orc standing before him, the orc he would do anything for. Eventually his lower back arched as much as it could in the restraints. And then…

“That wouldn’t happen if you were either straight or fully human-kind” said Norg’ath, pulling his armpit away pointing at Danyul’s little but rock-sold cock. The orcs in the circle laughed. “We don’t have time to argue this. Everyone else in your castle was straight and of human-kind. I have no doubt that, whether they knew you were gay or not, they mocked you for your lack of success with women. I’m sure they also mocked you for how much you ate and how large you were. And what they saw as cowardice was your unwillingness to die for the evils of the human race, to believe the stories they tell. Whatever they did to you to suppress it, you are of orc-kind. Accept this now for you have a choice to make: there is room in the tribe for a proud gay orc to sit by my throne and serve me. Or there is room in this box for another captive, a righteous defender of human purity. Choose, now, before the Council of Riverpace.”

Danyul already knew. He’d known he was different since he was a child. He’d only escaped into his books because the walls of his family’s castle were so confining. He had too little physical talent to venture beyond them. That’s why they’d sent him to the forsaken Castle Ealas, to toughen him up and fix his “little problem.” He knew half the story. This was the other half.

“I had little doubt of your choice” said Norg’ath. Danyul hadn’t responded to the choice but Norg’ath knew. “What you feel is the anxiety of human thought. You will not need that here. You will honor the tribe and you will honor my fallen mate with your service. Pledge yourself to me now.”

Danyul muttered “I am yours, Norg’ath. I have no choice.” Norg’ath unlocked and opened the pilory. “But you have chosen, and chosen well,” he said. Danyul fell the floor. Norg’ath knelt beside him. “I knew you were mine from the moment I smelled you. You will honor my fallen mate’s memory with your service.”

Norg’ath picked Danyul up and carried him out of the tent. Outside, a fire was roaring. It was late spring, just turning to summer, so the air was warm. The moon was full and, along with the fire, the camp was fully lit. On either side of the fire were two tables. One was large and round and laid with an orc feast of roasted meats and root vegetables with a barrel of beer set beside it. The other was a rather small rectangle.

The other orcs followed Norg’ath and Danyul out of the tent. Norg’ath set Danyul down on the table and an orc stepped forward, holding what appeared to be a long leather strap and a metal cage. He eyed Danyul up and down. He was tall and well-built and wore more fur and leathers than the others. He placed the strap around Danyul so that it circled from his left shoulder down to his right hip. He clasped this there with a buckle and then passed the strap from his right hip to his left hip, where he placed another buckle. From the strap around his waist he hung a metal cage. It was comically big surrounding Danyul’s cock and balls. The orc latched it closed from the bottom, though Danyul could easily have slipped it out. Norg’ath took one of the locks from the pillory, placed it into the holes of the cage, and locked it. He placed the key onto a chain, which he placed around his neck.

Norg’ath laid Danyul down on the table. Another orc, leaner than the others and with blue-green skin, stepped one foot over Danyul, straddled him, and sat down on his chest. He had grey-blue skin. His hair was white and thick and had intricate patterns shaved into it. He pulled out a knife. Danyul winced. He moved up Danyul’s body so he that Danyul could feel his balls sliding along him. The orc put the knife to the side of Danyul’s head and began to deftly shave Danyul’s straggly brown hair away at the sides. The orc pulled the hair that was left up and began to cut it away with the knife, trimming it to half its length. When the orc got up and went back to the circle Danyul felt his head. The sides had been shaved away so a single strip of hair running from his forehead to his neck was left. It looked rather pathetic.

When this orc had climbed off a fat orc, one Danyul had seen, stepped for appeared very strong. He held three long, thin needles in his left hand. He passed the needles over a torch and sat on Danyul’s chest as the other orc had. He gyrated a little and Danyul swore he could feel something metalic on his skin as he did. In the space of five seconds he passed the needles through Danyul’s septum and both his nipples. Danyul let out a moan but, still, he bore the pain better than he would have guessed. The orc pulled them out but placed no jewelry into the piercings.

Norg’ath turned Danyul over onto his stomach. He and the three orcs tied his arms and legs to the table’s legs. Norg’ath walked around the table and knelt behind Danyul. Danyul’s hole was exposed. Norg’ath gently bit both of Danyul’s cheeks so that Danyul could just feel his tusks poking in. Then he licked from the area beneath Danyul’s hole to above it, circled it, and then pressed his tongue inside. Danyul felt that his tongue must have been at least as big as his own dick. Danyul moaned and his eyes rolled back into his head.

Norg’ath stopped. “I can take you no further like this.” He stood up and shouted “prepare!” The orc who had done Danyul’s hair stepped forward and pulled away his loin cloth. Danyul was presented with an uncut orc cock with a massive girth that extended for at least nine inches. “Skando is smallest so he will start.” The other orcs disrobed. Norg’ath was right. They all formed a line behind Danyul, arranged by cock size, and Danyul didn’t know how he could take the orcs at the very end. Norg’ath knelt before the table and stroked Danyul’s hair. “You will do great, boy,” he said.

Skando stepped forward. He spit in his hand and rubbed up and down his cock. He pushed gently but firmly against the hole. It wouldn’t give. “You think you can’t take that. You simply will not take it. Let me help you with your will.” He lifted his arm and shoved Danyul’s head into his armpit. Danyul went through the same rush of reactions as before and, when he was finally blank, his hole relaxed and Skando pushed his tip in. “Yes, boy,” said Norg’ath.

It was Danyul’s first and he let out a cry that was half a scream and half a moan. “Good, boy,” said Norg’ath, lowering his arm to stroke Danyul’s back. “Let go of the pain. Feel the pleasure.” Skando began to push in further until he was in to his balls. “Fuck yeah” said Skando. “Can you go on?” said Norg’ath. Danyul took two deep breaths of the musk and felt himself relax around the cock tip in his hole. He nodded to Norg’ath, who nodded to Skando.

“Human holes are tight, too tight. But we’re taking care of that,” said Skando, slowly picking up the pace. Danyul moaned with every thrust until the pace quickened so that he was moaning constantly. There were times when Danyul felt he wanted to stop, where the fullness of the situation caught up with him. Norg’ath sensed these moments and would lift his arm for Danyul to smell. When Danyul could not choose to submit he would choose to smell the musk. And the musk gave him no choice but to submit.

When Skando’s strokes became jerkier and Danyul felt the cock inside him engorge, Norg’ath said “what are the last words of human named Danyul?” Danyul moaned his reply through gritted teeth: “fuck Danyul! Fuck huamnity!” Skando cried and thrust deep. Danyul moaned as he felt the seed spread inside him. It started out warm in his hole but became hot, nearly too hot to bear, as it spread throughout him. Danyul moaned and convulsed and for just a moment searing. When it subsided he looked at his arms. They were bigger and he could just make out some definition. His skin was darker than the sickly pale he had been. It might have passed for a tan but by the firelight Danyul could tell the bronze was tinged green.

“Do you see now, boy?” said Norg’ath. Danyul tried to respond but couldn’t think of any words. It felt as if the waning heat from the orc’s cum in his ass and the smell of the musk in his mind were blocking his ability to think and speak. Instead of saying words he let out a grunt and nodded. Skando stepped aside and the orc who had pierced him stepped forward. However much bigger he was than Skando he slid in twice as easily. “You’re opening up and lubricating now. It’s really starting,” said Norg’ath. The pain was still present, but it was easier for Danyul to get lost in the pleasure now. “I am Mugraj,” he said when he was all the way in. “Tell me to fuck your new orc hole, boy.”

“Fuck my orc hole.”

Mugraj gave Danyul’s hole a masterful pounding. Danyul moaned, but it was lower than last, mixed with animalistic grunts. Danyul’s nose was still buried in Norg’ath’s pit and whenever the sensations became too much he breathed deep of the musk and submitted to his new position. When Mugraj came the pain was more intense than with Skando. Danyul felt his entire body tense as his bones creaked. His whole body lengthened. “There we go, boy,” said Norg’ath when Danyul stopped wincing.

This continued for hours through every orc on the coucil. Fucking would bring pleasure. A load would lead to intense but brief agony. The agony would bring change. Danyul felt himself being worn out and yet, at the same time, he felt himself becoming stronger with every orc that came inside him. He felt his nipples widen, his face contort, his lower canines extend to tusks. And always Norg’ath was there, to reassure Danyul and make him submit to his purpose when necasarry.

When the last orc came, Danyul felt his cock grow enough to fill its cage. “You’re ready” said Norg’ath, cutting him away from the table.

Danyul stood. He had grown at least five inches. His shoulders had broadened. HIs cock and balls were now completely filling the cage. His skin was a brown-green and his hair had lightened to nearly an orange. His soft and shapeless ass was now two muscular orbs robed in a layer of fat and covered in dusting of orange hair. His face echoed his old one, but was more handsome. He could see more clearly and smell everything around him. He might not know their names but he now knew every one of the orcs who’d fucked him and could identify them by smell. “Danyul like to take orc cock,” he said.

Norg’ath came before Danyul holding a bag. He took one thick ring with a section missing from it hooped it through Danyul’s right nipple. “As you serve me in flesh,” he said. He placed another ring through Danyul’s left nipple, “as I serve you in heart.” He placed one through Danyul’s septum, saying, “as we are one in mind.” Finally, he placed the collar around Danyul’s neck, saying “with this I name you Dornath of the Riverpace tribe.” He removed his loin cloth, revealing the biggest cock Danyul had ever seen. “Dornath, if you will belong to me, take me now between your tusks.”

Danyul didn’t hesitate. He dropped to his knees. “Dornath want to taste master’s cock,” he said, and took the length of Norg’ath’s cock into his mouth and down his throat. A loud cheer when up from the orcs. He grabbed Norg’ath’s balls as he worked his mouth up and down the length of the shaft. He tasted precum in his mouth. “Danyul is gone! Welcome our brother!” cried Norg’ath. “Dornath!” cheered the orcs. “Dornath!”

Dornath he was. And the taste of his master’s cock in his mouth made his new orc cock strain against its cage. He breathed deep the musk that came from his master’s balls and was glad that not an ounce of human revulsion remained. He breathed it in like only an owned orc could. He knew he could always breath this in now and this made his cock strain more and he gyrated on the ground. He was sure that no ugly human could ever feel this good.

As he engorged, breathing heavily, grunting, Norg’ath cried “stop! If I finish now I can’t seal you.” He pointed to the table. Dornath climbed on and lay on his back. “You will take my seed. You will be Dornath. You will be orc. And you will be mine.” Norg’ath grabbed Dornath’ feet, raised them, and placed the tip to Dornath hole.

“My beautiful orc boy,” said Norg’ath. “You will remember this night in the days to come. I will always be there for you. You will always serve me. When we are finished tonight, our bond will be beyond human love.” He pushed in. Dornath didn’t think he could experience such pleasure, such joy. The other orcs had been fun. He liked fun orc cock. But this was different. Dornath was being filled not with a cock but with an orc, with his master, Norg’ath. And Dornath was not complete with Norg’ath.

This morning, he had been Danyul, a scared, weak human cowering for safety. Now he was a proud orc with a place in the world and would be for the rest of his days. He no longer had to think. He could simply be and do. As Norg’ath humped the crowd began a chant. The humping stayed in rhythm with the chant and both picked up pace as Norg’ath neared climax. Norg’ath and Dornath grunted in tandem.

“Say you are mine,” said Norg’ath.

“I am yours.”

“Say you are Dornath.”

“Me Dornath.”

“Say you are orc!”




Dornath released as massive load into the cage as Norg’ath released inside of him. The heat of Norg’ath’s invigorated Dornath. And he knew it always would. A “nurrah!” went up from the crowd. As Norg’ath collapsed on top of his new mate Dornath knew that this was it, that the cum leaking from his cage was the last of his humanity. He had never been happier. “Me orc now. Me no talk or think like puny human. Me have place and purpose with Master Norg’ath.”

Norg’ath smiled at his new mate. “And you always will. You’ll never be smarter than makes you happy ever again.” He made a wide circular gesture. “The moon is out tonight. And there will always be moon, or stars, or rain to see and feel in ways that no book could describe to you. Your life is a book now. I will write it with you. Do you feel happy?”

“Happy” said Dornath. As the others began to the feast, Norg’ath wiped some of the cum from Dornath’s chest and used it to spike his orange mohawk, saying, “welcome to the Riverpace Tribe, Dornath. Welcome home, boy.”

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