Chapter Three

The two executioners stepped forward through the courtyard, raising their axes high into the air as they prepared to sever the hemp rope holding the metal cage suspended from the central oak tree. Lorian knelt naked on the dirt, feeling the breeze brush against his bare skin as he watched the executioners. He knew he needed to protect his secret identity to save himself, but the thought of letting his most loyal protector die a meaningless death in this savage camp broke his resolve. The feminized prince abandoned all pretense of detachment, lunging forward against the tight iron chain Vorg held in his fist.

“Stop!” Lorian screamed. “That is Prince Lorian of Rosthorne! His father will pay a fortune for him!”

Chieftain Krav raised a scarred hand, signaling the two executioners to halt their swing. The warlord turned his broad shoulders and stalked back toward the kneeling captive. The surrounding mob of warriors fell silent, their lustful stares replaced by curiosity as their leader approached the blonde. Krav stopped in front of the naked captive and reached down, grabbing a rough handful of golden hair to yank the elf’s face upward.

“What you say, elf?” he snorted, saliva spraying in her face.

“I told you the truth,” Lorian said, ignoring the sharp sting radiating across his scalp as he stared into the warlord’s dark eyes. “That man’s the heir of Rosthorne. King Alden will reward you with chests of gold if you return him.”

“You lie,” Krav snarled, his thick fingers tightening in the golden hair to pull her head further back. “Elves hate humans. Pointy-eared bitches don’t escort human princes in wooden carts.”

“Our kingdoms share secrets you orcs know nothing about,” Lorian answered, keeping the fabrication ambiguous to avoid trapping himself in a lie he couldn’t maintain. “This man had unmatched value to the crown, and if you kill him, King Alden will turn this place to flame.”

Krav leaned in closer, scowling as he glared down at the captive.

“I should rip your tongue out for spinning such lies,” the chieftain threatened. “I think you try to save a human, and I think we eat him now.”

Before the warlord could signal the executioners to finish their bloody task, a scruffy orc stepped out from the perimeter of the crowd. The warrior clutched a spear in his hand, looking nervously between his leader and the suspended metal prison.

“I hear things in hills, Chieftain,” the scout announced, pointing a dirty finger toward the southern borders. “Human traders talk on road yesterday. They say human king lose his boy, and they say king pay much gold to get him back.”

Krav released his grip, letting the captive slump forward into the dirt. The warlord turned his attention away from the naked elf, his gaze traveling up the trunk of the tree to the swaying cage. The prospect of an endless supply of human gold held more appeal than a single meal of roasted human. He walked toward the suspended prison, stopping just beneath the iron bars to inspect the captive inside.

Garrick gripped the metal bars with his bare hands. He processed the lie his friend had just spun, realizing instantly that Lorian had thought on his feet to save his knight. It is a brilliant maneuver, Garrick realized. He keeps the true prince shielded from discovery while ensuring we both live through the night. Garrick knew he had to play the part, straightening his posture despite the humiliating device locked over his groin. He looked down at the chieftain.

“You are human prince?” Krav asked, crossing his muscular arms over his wide chest.

“The elf is correct. I am Prince Lorian of Rosthorne,” Garrick stated, pitching his voice to sound arrogant and haughty. “If you strike me down, my father burns this camp to the ground. If you treat me with the respect my title demands, he’ll reward you with more gold than your tribe could spend in a lifetime. The choice is yours, orc.”

Silence stretched across the courtyard as the chieftain weighed the response. The warlord stared at the human, searching for any sign of deception. He glanced back at the kneeling elf, then back to the tall knight, before Krav let out a booming laugh. The loud chuckle broke the tension, prompting the surrounding horde to join in the amusement.

“We catch a prince,” Krav declared to his men, a wicked grin spreading across his scarred face. “We catch a prince, and we get rich.”

The mob of greenskins cheered, clashing their weapons together in celebration of their unexpected fortune. Krav gestured toward the two executioners, ordering them to lower the cage to the dirt rather than severing the line. The metal prison hit the ground with a dull thud, kicking up a small cloud of dust. One of the warriors stepped forward to unlatch the iron door, allowing the tall human to step out into the courtyard.

“Welcome to the Bracken Maw, Prince Lorian,” the warlord mocked, offering a crude bow to the naked knight. “You are an honored guest of my tribe, and we will make sure you enjoy your stay.”

Krav turned toward his commanders.

“Send two orcs to Rosthold Castle,” the chieftain commanded. “Tell human king we have his boy, and tell him to bring his fortune if he wants to see him breathe again. Tell camp to prepare a feast. Tonight, we celebrate our new fortune.”

The warriors scattered to carry out their tasks. Lorian knelt in the dirt at the end of his iron tether, shivering as the air brushed against his exposed breasts. He had successfully manipulated the chieftain and saved his protector’s life, but he knew the lie trapped him in the role of a lowly elven girl. He watched Garrick walk beside the chieftain. How will this end once my father sends an envoy?

Vorg jerked the chain, reminding the elf who currently owned her. The sudden pull forced Lorian to scramble forward on his hands and knees, his soft breasts swaying with the rough movement. A few lingering orcs cast hungry glances down at the slickness pooling between the elf’s pale thighs, their crude chuckles following the blonde as Vorg dragged his prize away from the central tree. The prince bit his lip to hold back a sob of humiliation, realizing he was now at the mercy of these brutal monsters while they waited for the ransom.

❖

Joviality filled the hide structure as the Bracken Maw celebrated their unexpected fortune. Dozens of greenskins crowded around long wooden tables, tearing into their meat and slamming wooden tankards of ale against the boards. The noise was a mix of guttural laughter and boasts bouncing off the slanted roof. At the head of the room, Chieftain Krav sat on his throne of bone and leather, presiding over the feast with a grin. The warlord chewed on a hunk of meat, his dark eyes scanning the room to ensure his commanders enjoyed the spoils of their successful ambush.

Garrick sat across from the warlord, playing the role of the captured prince with a demure posture. He kept his shoulders relaxed and picked at his food, projecting the dignity of a royal. I have never acted like a prince before, but I could get used to this.

Lorian suffered a degrading fate just a few feet away from his protector. The feminized prince found himself forced onto Vorg’s thighs, acting as a naked lap toy for the scout who had claimed him in the hills. The brute kept one arm wrapped around the captive’s slender waist to keep the elf anchored in place while using his free hand to shove meat into his mouth. The royal felt his pale skin flush with shame as he sat naked in front of the horde, his delicate hands resting by his side while the orc shifted beneath him.

The humiliation escalated as Vorg chewed his food, the greenskin deciding to entertain himself by groping his lapdog between bites. The orc wiped greasy fingers across Lorian’s pale stomach before reaching up to mash the firm breasts, kneading the mounds of flesh with a lack of care. Lorian bit his lip to suppress a gasp as the rough digits pinched his pink nipples. I hate how turned on this is making me. The elven biology continued to betray his masculine mind, responding to the dominant presence and the lingering effects of the seed he had swallowed earlier.

Garrick tried to focus on the warlord sitting across the table, but his eyes darted toward the display of his true prince being handled like a bitch. The knight tightened his jaw every time Vorg squeezed the pale breasts or traced a dirty finger down the slick inner thigh of the elf, struggling to reconcile the heir he had sworn to protect with the dripping female shivering on the brute’s lap. He felt his caged cock twitch at the sight, wincing as it did. Krav noticed the pained look and grinned.

“You look at the elf,” Krav stated, his voice carrying over the din of the celebration. “You look at her a lot, human prince. You twitch when the fat one touches her.”

Garrick set his wooden mug down on the table and forced himself to meet the warlord’s gaze. He knew he needed to offer an explanation that justified his concern without revealing the truth of the magical transformation.

“She traveled with my convoy,” Garrick answered, keeping his tone measured. “It’s difficult to ignore her when your men treat her like that.”

Krav let out a low chuckle, gesturing toward the squirming captive with his large hand.

“She is a whore,” the chieftain countered. “Elves hate men, and elves hate humans. Pointy-eared bitches do not ride in carts with human royalty unless they are slaves, but you do not treat her like a slave. Why does the prince of Rosthorne travel with a female elf?”

Vorg grunted in satisfaction as he shoved another piece of roasted animal into his mouth, his thick thighs shifting beneath the captured royal. The movement forced Lorian to adjust his balance, his bare ass rubbing against the hide covering the orc’s arousal. The friction sent unwanted shivers down the elf’s spine, leaving him aware of his vulnerable state. He tried to cross his arms over his bosom to hide his sensitive nipples from the surrounding warriors, but Vorg swatted his hands away, demanding his pet remain on display for the feast.

The knight calculated his next move as he watched the brute mistreat his friend, realizing the lie Lorian had spun in the courtyard required a foundation to satisfy the warlord’s curiosity. Garrick needed a story that explained their proximity and his emotional investment in her well-being.

“She’s my wife,” he declared, watching the chieftain’s brow rise in surprise. “My father arranged a diplomatic marriage to forge an alliance between Rosthorne and the Arbor of Iryll. He believed uniting our bloodlines would secure safe passage through the northern forests and end the hostilities between our people.”

“A human marries an elf,” Krav mused, shaking his head in disbelief as he stared at the blonde sitting on Vorg’s lap. “The elven queens do not share their women with outside men.”

“It was an unusual arrangement,” Garrick continued, leaning into the lie with a solemn dignity. “They agreed to the terms because we offered them resources they could not receive on their own. It worked at first, and we maintained the peace for a time, but the goodwill soured quickly. The cultural divide was vast, and her people demanded her return to the forest.”

“You take her back to the trees,” Krav concluded, a gleam sparking in his dark eyes as the pieces of the fabricated puzzle fell into place. “You give up your wife to keep the peace.”

“I do what is required for my kingdom,” Garrick replied, keeping his voice steady as he played the part.

The chieftain smiled, his gaze shifting from the human knight back to the naked elf. He noticed the flush of shame spreading across Lorian’s cheeks and the wetness shining on the pale thighs, realizing the captive possessed value to his honored guest. Krav picked up his flagon of ale and took a drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before leaning across the table.

“You say the goodwill soured,” Krav noted, his tone turning inquisitive. “But a man does not look at a woman like that unless he still claims her. Do you still have feelings for the elf bitch?”

Garrick hesitated, knowing any admission of affection could give the greenskin a weapon to use against them, yet a denial would contradict the concern he had shown all evening. He thought of his best friend suffering the degradation of the scout’s hands and realized he had to commit to the charade to make it believable.

“Yes,” Garrick admitted, offering a nod. “I still care for her.”

A grin spread across Krav’s face as he digested the confession. The warlord realized he held the ultimate leverage over the human prince, a tool more entertaining than the promised chests of gold. He slammed his flagon down on the table, signaling an end to the interrogation as his mind worked through the possibilities of this revelation.

❖

An hour into the festivities, Chieftain Krav stood up from his throne of bone and leather, raising his hand to demand the attention of his tribe. The chatter of the greenskins died down to a murmur as the warriors turned their gazes toward the head of the long table. The warlord looked down at the human knight sitting across from him before shifting his eyes toward his fat scout and the captive elf.

“You sit at my table and drink my ale, human prince,” Krav announced to the room. “You tell me you care for the pointy-eared wife you gave up to keep the peace. I am a generous host, and I think it is time to reunite the happy couple.”

“Reunite?” Lorian asked as his elf ears perked up. What does the fat ogre mean by that?

Krav gestured toward the center of the tent with a flick of his wrist. Vorg let out a grunt of acknowledgment, shifting his bulk off the wooden bench before grabbing the leash attached to his prisoner. The brute hauled the naked elf off his wide thighs, forcing Lorian to scramble forward on his hands and knees to avoid choking. The captive stumbled as the scout dragged him to the middle of the dirt floor, leaving the blonde kneeling in full view of the horde.

“Keep your mouth shut, elf-bitch,” Krav ordered from his seat, staring down at the captive. “The men are talking now.”

Lorian clamped his jaw shut, glaring up at the warlord while his bare breasts swayed from the sudden halt. He hated the vulnerability of kneeling naked on the ground, surrounded by monsters. He tried to cross his delicate arms over his chest, but Vorg once again slapped his hands away, demanding the elf remain on display.

“You want to sleep in a warm tent tonight, human prince?” Krav asked, turning his attention back to Garrick. “Then you will take your wife right. You will breed her in front of us. Show us your love.”

Garrick stared across the table. He abandoned any attempt to sound diplomatic, letting his natural frustration bleed into his voice.

“I won’t do that,” Garrick stated flatly, glaring at the chieftain. “Lock me back in the cage.”

Krav leaned forward and rested his elbow on the sticky wood.

“Very well, but if you go back in cage, my men will pass your wife around until sun come up,” the chieftain countered, waving a scarred hand toward the dozens of lustful warriors sitting at the benches. “They take turns. They share her, and you will watch from cage.”

Garrick looked past the warlord and locked eyes with Lorian. The disguised prince stared back with wide, terrified eyes, confusion masking his smooth features. Lorian had no idea what Krav meant, but Garrick understood the math of the threat. The delicate elven frame could never survive a night with multiple orcs. The greenskins would have their way with him, and Lorian would never be the same again. The knight knew he had no choice.

“Fine,” Garrick said, pushing his wooden chair back and standing up. “But you’ll need to unlock this thing.” He gestured to the cock cage currently pinning his penis in place.

Vorg stepped forward and pulled an iron key from his loincloth. The scout knelt in front of the tall knight and inserted the metal into the device trapping his genitals, twisting the mechanism until a loud click released the lock. The iron pins fell away, springing Garrick’s arousal free from its confinement. The knight forced himself to walk steadily toward the center of the room.

Lorian remained on his knees, shivering as the tall man approached him. Garrick stopped just a foot away, his naked frame standing mere inches from the elf’s face.

“Ga… I mean, Lorian,” the transformed elf muttered in bewilderment. “What’s going on? Where are your pants?”

“It’s going to be okay,” Garrick said, keeping his voice low as he reached out to place his hands on the elf’s pale shoulders.

The knight pushed downward, guiding the blonde onto his back. Lorian was still confused, but his slender legs spread as he fell back, offering his feminine sex to the man who had served him for years.

Garrick knelt between the pale thighs. He looked down at the beautiful face of his ruler, silently apologizing for the act he was about to commit. The loud cheers of the surrounding orcs reminded him of the violent alternative, leaving him no other option but to comply. He grasped his cock and pushed forward, initiating the penetration to spare them both from the horde.

A sharp gasp escaped Lorian’s lips as the girth stretched his delicate opening. He wanted to push the man away as Garrick fucked him, but his new body was weaker than he was used to, and Garrick held control. A wave of pleasure radiated from the blonde’s crotch, melting his resistance into a humiliating pool of wet need. What the fuck is wrong with this body?

Garrick drove his pelvis forward, burying the length of his shaft inside the tight warmth of the elven pussy. The snug fit forced a groan from the knight’s throat as he gripped the blonde’s shoulders down to hold the captive in place. He pulled back and delivered another firm thrust, establishing a steady motion that sent jarring shocks through Lorian’s petite frame.

The physical impact caused Lorian’s bare tits to bounce with every plunge. His pink nipples rubbed against the knight’s skin as Garrick leaned forward to deepen the penetration. The friction forced sweet moans to spill from his mouth. The prince hated himself for the sounds he was making, despising the undeniable arousal taking root in his mind as the human stretched his walls. He reached up and dug his fingernails into Garrick’s broad shoulders, his body instinctively seeking the pleasure his brain rejected.

The horde of greenskins howled in approval, slamming their tankards against the tables as they watched the human fuck his elven wife. The noise fueled Garrick’s frantic movements, driving his hips with a desperate urgency to finish the degrading act. He slapped his thighs against the elf’s pale ass, the wet smacking sounds blending with the cheers of the tribe.

“Fuck the pointy-eared bitch!” one of the orcs shouted from the back of the room, raising an axe in the air.

“Make her scream, human!” another brute yelled, spilling his ale over the pair in his excitement.

Lorian felt pressure building within his abdomen, the unrelenting friction pushing him toward a climax he wanted to avoid. His legs automatically wrapped around the knight’s waist, pulling Garrick deeper inside. A jolt of sudden ecstasy shot up his spine, forcing his back to arch off the ground as an orgasm wracked his petite body. He cried out in his sweet voice, his inner walls clenching tight around the intruding shaft.

The grip of the climax pushed Garrick to his limit. The knight let out a groaning shout, speeding up his thrusts as he prepared to bury his cock and release his load into the slick depths.

Before the knight could finish the act, rough green hands grabbed his bare shoulders. Vorg and another brute pulled Garrick backward, ripping his hard shaft out of the elven pussy. The sudden separation left the knight stumbling on his knees, his hips jerking as he gasped for air. Garrick held his leaking cock, huffing on the edge of a ruined climax while the surrounding horde erupted into cruel laughter.

“No human seed for elf-bitch,” Vorg grunted as he picked up the blonde elf and lunged her over his shoulder. “She belong to me, and only get a taste of orc juice now.”

Krav, the warlord, watched the scene from his throne and offered a slow nod of approval. He stood up and stepped around the table, walking over to the panting human before slapping a large green hand on his back.

“You put on good show, human prince,” the orc declared, gesturing toward the flap at the back of the structure. “Now it is time to show you to your tent.”

❖

Chieftain Krav led the human knight away from the feast and guided him across the camp courtyard. Garrick walked beside the warlord in silence. He felt exhaustion in his muscles from the forced public display he had just endured, and he was still horny after his climax was cut short, but he continued to walk alongside the large monster. A pair of armed orcs trailed a few paces behind them, keeping a close watch on the prisoner as they walked through the camp.

The warlord stopped in front of a modest tent situated near the edge of the settlement and pushed the entrance flap aside. Garrick stepped inside to find a simple room featuring not much other than a large pile of furs arranged in the corner to serve as a bed.

“This is your home now,” Krav announced, waving a hand toward the pile of furs. “You sleep here while we wait for the human king to send his gold.”

“Do you have anything for me to wear?” Garrick asked, keeping his voice demure as he turned to face the warlord. “I’d rather not be naked while we wait for Lorian’s… I mean, my father.”

“Humans do not get clothes here,” the orc answered with a dismissive grunt.

“There must be something I can wear,” Garrick pressed, looking down at his exposed member.

“I say no clothes,” the chieftain retorted, his dark eyes narrowing at the persistent request. “You stay like this until king pays the ransom.”

Garrick swallowed his frustration, knowing that arguing would only anger the large beast. He surveyed the sparse interior of the shelter.

“So, am I stuck here?” he asked. “Or am I free to leave the tent whenever I wish?”

A loud laugh erupted from Krav’s chest, filling the enclosed space.

“You leave when chest of gold arrives,” the warlord declared. “Three warriors stand outside flap at all times. Do not make them angry, prince.”

Before Garrick could formulate a response, the hide flap tore open again. Vorg stepped into the shelter, taking up a portion of the entrance. The scout held a chain in his clumsy hand, giving the metal a firm tug to pull his naked pet inside.

Lorian stumbled through the doorway. A leather collar sat fastened around his neck, the metal links of the leash rattling as he moved. The prince looked flushed and tired. His blonde hair hung in a tangled mess over his pale shoulders. He felt a lingering ache in his lower body from the rough public act. His pussy remained slick from his own arousal, though it lacked any trace of human seed after the greenskins pulled his knight away before the finish. He refused to look Garrick in the eyes. Instead, he stared down at his own bare feet as Vorg dragged him deeper into the room.

“I am generous host,” Krav stated, pointing toward the blonde standing at the end of the leash. “Vorg agrees to loan his pet to you for the night. You keep your wife warm.”

Garrick opened his mouth, but the warlord held up a hand to stop him.

“But we make sure elf-bitch stays free of human cum,” Krav added, a grin spreading across his face.

The chieftain gave a signal to the two armed orcs waiting just outside the entrance. The warriors rushed into the tent and dropped their spears. They lunged forward and grabbed the knight by his bare shoulders.

Garrick reacted on instinct. He thrashed his arms and twisted his torso to break free from the sudden assault. He had no idea what the monsters had planned for him, but his training demanded he fight back against his attackers. He pushed one of the brutes backward, planting his feet in the ground to leverage his weight. The strength of the greenskins overwhelmed him. The two guards kicked his legs out from under him and drove him down onto his knees. They pinned his arms behind his back, rendering him helpless on the ground.

A third orc stepped into the room. He held the metal chastity device in his green hands. Garrick let out an angry growl as he recognized the contraption, kicking his bare legs in a futile attempt to escape the humiliation. The guards pressed their weight down on his shoulders. They held his struggling body in place while the third warrior knelt directly in front of him.

The orc grabbed the knight’s cock. He threaded the flesh through the main ring of the device and pulled the metal snug against the base of his genitals. Garrick gasped as the iron encased his manhood. The warrior snapped the front cage over the shaft before inserting a small key into the lock. A loud click sounded in the small space, signaling the locking of the mechanism. The cage trapped the human’s arousal behind bars once again.

The third orc pulled the key free and handed it to Krav. The warlord held it up between two fingers, so Garrick and Lorian both had to look at it, then closed his fist around the metal.

“You keep wife warm,” Krav said. “You do not fill her. Iron stay on until I say.”

The guards let Garrick’s arms go. He stayed on his knees for a breath, then pushed himself up and looked down at the cage as if staring could open it. His cock pressed the bars and found no room. His prized member was trapped again.

Vorg tugged Lorian closer to the pile of furs and wrapped the free end of the chain around the center pole, tying it off with a thick knot. The slack let the elf sit on the bedding and would stop him short of the flap exit.

“I come get her when sun come,” Vorg told the human knight. “She mine in morning. You no break chain.”

Krav offered a final nod of approval to his men and stepped toward the exit. The chieftain paused at the threshold and looked back at the naked pair left on the dirt floor.

“Do not try anything stupid tonight,” Krav warned, his dark eyes shifting between the knight and the captive elf. “Guards put spears through you if you cause trouble. Have good night, human prince.”

The warlord pushed the hide flap aside and stepped out into the courtyard. Vorg followed close behind the leader, chuckling to himself as he exited the shelter. The thick material fell back into place and sealed the knight and his disguised ruler inside the tent. Garrick listened to the crunch of footsteps fading away as the three armed greenskins took up their positions just outside the entrance.

The knight released a slow breath and reached down to test the strength of the iron cage trapping his genitals. The metal held firm against his flesh, offering no give as he pulled on the bars. He turned his attention to the pile of furs where Lorian sat bound to the center pole. The prince pulled his knees up to his chest, crossing his delicate arms over his shins to shield his bare breasts from the night air. They were finally alone in the structure, left to face their captivity in silence.

❖

The crunch of footsteps faded outside the hide walls as the orcish guards took up their positions. Silence settled over the dim interior of the tent. Garrick stood near the center pole, looking down at his captured prince. Lorian sat on the pile of furs with his back turned to the knight. The feminized royal pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his delicate arms around his shins, covering as much as he could and ignoring the man who had just fucked him in front of the tribe.

Garrick took a breath and stepped closer to the bedding.

“Lorian,” Garrick said, keeping his voice quiet. “Please look at me.”

The prince refused to move. The feminized naked man stared at the crude stitching of the canvas wall. The horror of his experiences burned in his mind. Garrick had forced him onto the dirt and used his new feminine body. The knight had acted as the instrument of his degradation, and Lorian hated him for participating in it.

“I know you’re angry,” Garrick continued, refusing to let the silence sit between them. “You have every right to be angry, but I had no choice.”

“You fucked me in front of them,” Lorian whispered, still looking away. “You used this body that doesn’t even belong to me, and they all cheered you for it.”

“I had no choice,” Garrick repeated, kneeling on the ground next to the pile of furs. “The alternative was leaving you to the orcs. You heard their leader. If I refused his order, he was going to let the camp take turns with you.”

“You still did it,” Lorian argued, his voice trembling with anger as he kept his face hidden against his knees. “You took me like you take those filthy tavern sluts. How can I look at you ever again?”

“I spared you from being torn apart,” Garrick insisted, refusing to back down. “You think I wanted to do this? You think I enjoyed having them standing around us like that? I had no choice, Lorian. Look at your new body. You’re in danger, and we need to figure out how to get out of here before they come back and split us up again.”

Lorian knew the knight spoke the truth. The logic did nothing to erase the memory of the public act. His body still ached from the rough thrusts. His inner walls felt slick and swollen from the friction. The betrayal of his new body made the humiliation sting, leaving him confused as he realized a part of him had craved his friend’s touch. He had never had thoughts about another man before, but something about the orc seed he had consumed earlier had done something to his body.

“I had to do it,” Garrick said, keeping his voice steady. “I hated every second of it, but it was the only way to keep you safe from the tribe. I swore an oath to protect you, my prince.”

Lorian lifted his head and looked over his bare shoulder. He saw regret on his protector’s face. He also saw the chastity cage locked over Garrick’s cock. So long as that device was on, Lorian was safer here than anywhere else.

“Thank you,” Lorian said quietly, offering a humble concession to the man.

Garrick released a breath and offered a nod of appreciation. He stood up from the dirt and began pacing across the room, his bare feet stepping softly against the ground. The pair needed to find a way out of the settlement before the King’s men showed up with torches. Getting out of this without bloodshed was the best way forward.

“We need to escape,” Garrick announced, scanning the dark corners of the structure. “We have to get out of here tonight.”

“Escape?” Lorian asked, turning to face the knight. “Krav sent riders to my father. We just need to wait for the gold to arrive.”

“We can’t take that risk,” Garrick countered. “Orcs don’t believe in honor. They’re not going to keep us alive. We’re on our own.”

Lorian looked toward the front of the shelter. He listened to the deep voices of the orcs stationed outside the canvas.

“Getting out of here is impossible,” the blonde said, gesturing toward the entrance. “There are three of those things keeping an eye on us. We’re naked, and it’s not like we have weapons to fight them. I can’t even reach the exit with this damn collar attached to this pole.”

The elf pulled on the iron links to prove his point. He dropped his hands to his lap in defeat.

Garrick shook his head and walked over to the center pole. He took the thick chain in his bare hands and worked at the knot Vorg had tied. After several seconds of agonizing effort, the knot came loose, and the chain fell away from the wood.

“There,” he replied. “Now we need a way out.” As the knight inspected the cramped room, he spotted something along the bottom edge of the material directly opposite the only entrance into the tent. He found a tear. “This will work.”

❖

Garrick crouched behind the rear canvas of the tent, holding the material open wide so his feminized prince could sneak through. He waited for Lorian to slide through the tear before leading the way into the shadows of the orc camp. The knight kept himself crouched low as he quietly navigated between the makeshift structures. He was naked alongside the bare blonde elf, and he tried not to focus on the pert frame of the body he had just taken, although he couldn’t stop himself from gasping in pain as his cock tried to awaken beneath the cage.

Lorian followed close behind his protector, trying to ignore the stones and twigs digging into the soles of his feet. The prince felt all too vulnerable sneaking through the hostile war camp without a shred of clothing. He had been kept naked for most of his stay, and the feminized man still felt humiliated at his lack of attire. The leather collar remained fastened around his neck, with the chain leash dangling loose between his pert C-cup breasts.

Garrick raised his hand and signaled for Lorian to stop moving. The knight pressed his back against another tent and peeked around the corner. A fire burned in the center of the path ahead, and the moving shadows caught his eye. Two orcs sat on stumps near the flames, passing a skin of ale back and forth as they told crude jokes to each other.

“Gold make us rich,” one of the orcs grunted, taking a drink from the pouch.

“You see elf whore?” the second monster replied. “I take her womb over gold every day.”

Garrick turned his head as he heard a minor whimper. As the pair joked about fucking him, Lorian found his own naked pussy reacting to the comments, twitching with a neediness he couldn’t seem to control. What was wrong with this body?

“Come on,” Garrick whispered. “Let’s keep moving.”

Garrick led them away from the fire, charting a stealthy path through the shadows of the settlement. The route took them deeper into the perimeter, forcing them to avoid any light that could expose their location. The knight knew that an orc could check on them inside the tent and discover their absence at any moment, and if they hadn’t escaped into the forest by then, it would be hard to get out alive.

A few times, Garrick had to pull Lorian into a narrow space between two tents to avoid passing patrols. The orcs stomped past without noticing the two captives holding their breath in the dark.

Lorian stayed close to Garrick’s back, holding the metal chain in his own hands to stop the links from making noise against each other. He kept one arm against his chest, trying to forget all about the orcs’ sexual comments, attempting to calm his unwieldy pussy down.

The pair darted past a row of animal pens, ignoring the stench the creatures emitted. Garrick crouched low, peeking around another corner before signaling for the prince to follow. The structures eventually gave way to an open stretch of dirt bordering the edge of the Bracken Maw. A tall wooden fence stood before them, constructed from logs along with metal spikes sticking out from the top. The barrier stretched high above their heads, acting as a final hurdle between the prisoners and freedom.

Garrick stepped up to the base of the wall. He ran his hands along the rough bark of the logs, searching for any sign of weakness in the structure. He knew it would be difficult to ascend the fence, so breaking a damaged log would have to become their best bet.

Lorian stepped up beside the knight and looked up at the massive barrier.

“What’s the plan?” the elf whispered. “Surely you don’t expect us to climb that thing?”

“I know,” the man replied. “I just need to find a way to break through the wall. Just give me a little time, and I’ll figure something out.”

“Your time is up.”

The deep voice that sounded behind the pair sent a shudder down Lorian’s spine. He closed his eyes. No! It couldn’t be!

Garrick turned around and stepped in front of the elven prince. Chieftain Krav stood just ten paces away with a wicked grin. The warlord was not alone. Half a dozen armed greenskins stepped out from behind the nearby tents and formed a semicircle around the naked prisoners. The brutes leveled their spears at the knight and waited for their leader to give a command.

“Your attempt is over. Get on your knees and beg for your lives,” Krav ordered, puffing his large green chest out. “Beg for your survival.”

Garrick looked around as his thoughts raced. He looked at the sharp weapons squared at his chest and knew that he didn’t stand a chance. He was naked, with nothing but his chastity cage on show, and even if he thought he could take down one of them with his skills, there was no way he could handle all of them. He knew the pair’s best shot at surviving this was to play along and hope for mercy or intervention. The knight turned his head to the blonde elf and nodded, before dropping to his knees.

Lorian watched his loyal protector surrender to the horde. Part of him felt disgust that his friend and protector gave himself up just like that. He had sworn to protect the prince, and he had failed. With no other choice, the elf lowered himself to the ground beside the knight and rested his knees on the dirt.

“We kill them now, chief?” one of the orc guards suggested, edging the tip of his spear closer. “Human try to run. We chop his head off.”

Krav stepped forward as Garrick raised his head to watch the warlord stand in front of him. The ugly grin spread across the orc’s face unsettled Garrick more than the alternative could.

“No,” Krav commanded. “Dead human brings no gold. Dead elf provides no entertainment.”

The warlord closed the distance to the kneeling captives. He ignored the human knight and focused his attention on the blonde cowering beside him. Krav reached down and grabbed a handful of Lorian’s hair, yanking the elf’s head upward to force eye contact. Lorian bit his lip to hold back a cry of pain as his hands dropped to his sides.

“I have a new entertaining way to put disobedient prisoners in their place,” the chieftain declared, staring down at the terrified prince. He turned his head to one of his men. “Grab the wizard. Let’s see what he can do.”

Wizard?

❖

Lorian pulled his arms forward, struggling against the metal chains binding his wrists to the sturdy timber of the St. Andrew’s Cross. The metal cuffs were tight around his limbs as he thrashed his body back and forth. His ankles sat locked in matching rings fastened at the base of the wooden structure, pulling his slender legs wide apart to leave him displayed spread-eagled in the center of the room. A leather strap wrapped around the back of his blonde head, forcing a wooden bit gag between his teeth to keep his mouth silent.

The prince turned his head to the side and saw Garrick bound to an identical wooden frame just two feet away. The human stood naked in the exact same vulnerable position, his musclebound shoulders strained against the taut chains holding him secure. Garrick flexed his arms and pulled against his restraints, attempting to use his strength to break the metal links. The chains held firm, offering no give as the soldier exhausted his energy.

Chieftain Krav paced across the spacious tent. The large orc focused on the two helpless prisoners as he walked up to the knight and stopped just inches from the captive’s chest.

“You deserve this. You spat on my kindness,” he declared. “I offer you warm bed, and you try to sneak out and steal our property.”

Garrick glared at the warlord and bit into his gag, letting out an angry, muffled grunt.

Krav reached into his loincloth and retrieved the small key he had taken earlier. The orc leader stepped closer and inserted the metal into the lock of the cock cage, trapping the knight’s manhood. The cage clicked open and fell away, hitting the floor. Garrick’s flaccid cock hung exposed in the air, stripped of its cage.

“You have tiny human cock,” Krav mocked, eliciting a snorting chuckle from the small group of greenskins standing guard. “You think you are grand prince, but you are nothing but a sissy human.”

Before Krav could continue his taunts, the flap at the front of the tent pushed open. An orc guard stepped into the room, shoving a human man inside. Lorian’s eyes widened as he spat against his gag when he saw the figure stumbling forward. That’s the wizard? Archmage Corvyn? Hope is not lost!

Lorian pulled against his chains, desperate to get his old advisor’s attention. The last time they were together, Corvyn carried the reversal serum that could give Lorian his body back, and he hoped to hell the mage still possessed it. Corvyn held more power than these orcs could ever imagine, and his magic could burn this camp to the ground. If the wizard struck now, the three of them could walk out of this nightmare alive.

“Mmmph! Mmmrg!” Lorian cried out through the wooden bit, pleading with his eyes.

Krav turned away from the knight and looked at the newcomer. The warlord crossed his green arms over his chest, his posture relaxed despite the arrival of the human spellcaster.

“You bring the magic man,” Krav noted. “Time to prove where your loyalty still lies, wizard. Do you serve the human…” he asked, pointing at Garrick, “…or do you serve me now?”

“I served the Kingdom of Rosthorne out of necessity and survival,” Corvyn answered, his eyes not even acknowledging his two travel companions as he bowed to the orc. “I have no allegiance to these humans. You are my true master, Chieftain Krav.”

Lorian stared at his former advisor in horror. Surely this couldn’t be true. Corvyn must have been playing some kind of angle here. Why would he betray them for a bunch of dumb orcs? It made no sense.

“Good,” the orc smiled, gesturing toward the bound pair. “Prove it. Show me your loyalty and punish your old master.”

Corvyn nodded at the warlord and walked toward the wooden cross holding the knight. Garrick thrashed against his restraints, glaring at the traitor. The archmage ignored the silent threats and stopped right in front of the naked human. Lorian looked on, hoping this was still some elaborate plan by the wizard. Corvyn reached out and wrapped his bony fingers around Garrick’s exposed manhood.

Garrick let out a muffled yell through his gag. Corvyn muttered an incantation under his breath. A pink light flared from his palm. Garrick squeezed his eyes shut and arched his back as the member beneath the wizard’s hand began to change. The man’s cock shrank, retreating backward into his groin until only a tiny nub remained. The pink light swirled around the shrunken genitals and solidified into a glowing cage—the translucent bars locked over the nub, embedding themselves into the knight’s skin. The permanent magical device hummed with arcane energy, securing the soldier’s reduced manhood.

Krav threw his head back and laughed at the sight.

“I thought human prince had small cock before. The prince has no manhood left,” the orc mocked, slapping his green hands together. “He will not be servicing his elf bitch wife anymore.”

A chorus of laughs and hollers sounded around the tent as Garrick bit into his gag. Back home, he was a woman’s man, and the magician he had originally left the castle with had condemned him to a locked future.

Corvyn turned his attention away from the knight and faced the bound elf. Lorian shook his head and pulled against the cuffs, terrified of the magic still lingering on the man’s hand. The wizard stepped in front of the blonde and raised his arms.

“Shh, stay calm, sweet elf,” the archmage said. “I will make everything better.” With that, he began to chant a new spell, moving his fingers through the air.

A burning sensation erupted across Lorian’s chest. The feminized man squealed through the gag as the magic took hold of his feminine body. He felt the smooth, pale skin of his bosom stretch and expand. His modest breasts began to swell outward, ballooning out over his ribcage. The unnatural growth continued for several agonizing seconds until the twin mounds rested against his upper stomach. They were huge, fleshy orbs. Pink nipples capped the spheres, standing erect and sensitive as they pushed forward.

Lorian looked down at his own chest and whimpered in horror through the gag. The magic had transformed him into a bimbofied caricature of an elven woman. What the fuck had the mage done to him? Why would he do this to him?

Krav walked over to the elf and marveled at the impossible transformation. The warlord reached out and grabbed one of the massive tits in his green hand. He squeezed the soft flesh and ran his rough thumb across the enlarged nipple.

Lorian let out a muffled shriek as pleasure began to throttle down his spine, straight toward his groin. His giant breasts were sensitive. The feminized man tried to thrust his body away, but the cuffs held him tight.

“Good wizard,” Krav said as he stared at the breasts. “You do great work. Krav is impressed.”

Corvyn took a step backward and lowered his hands. The old man smoothed his robes and offered another bow to the chieftain.

“Your words flatter me, master,” the archmage stated. “If you would like me to prove my loyalty any further, my magic can do much more than this.”

Krav grinned, his eyes shifting between the bimbofied elf and the emasculated knight. The warlord stood in the center of the tent, contemplating the ways he could use his new magical servant to torment his royal captives.

End of Chapter Three