NT veRse - Orcs vs Elves 4 - Choice

Warda was treated first hand to the equal parts terrifying and intriguing process of how a much smaller Orc war-host converts a greater fighting force to their purposes. She saw how villages and commoners were subjugated and witnessed a small portion of it with the very basic Polis patrols that inhabited the areas. Seeing it on a mass scale with the Ranger force that was intercepted and sold out by their former leader was a different beast entirely.

“Hold her.” Malik ordered. It was a female Ranger. Part of the force that was captured. She still had her equipment and was still actively fighting and spitting and leveling all sorts of curses not at Malik, but at Warda in particular. The perceived traitor. The Elf gripped the woman's mercifully bound wrists from behind. If she were not bound, the non-combatant that Warda was would not have been able to effectively restrain the six foot example of Poren's militia might. A slender body with feminine frame, but muscular over every inch. She was trained, likely against the precise scenario she was put in.

“Why do I have to hold her?” Warda asked in Orcish.

“Speaking their tongue already, traitor?” The woman practically bit into the air as she spoke like a caged animal.

“Ignore her teasing. You have to learn.” Malik claimed.

“Aren't you just going to use Sociomancy on her?” Warda strained to keep the restrained woman down. She finally settled for leaning to put her weight on the kneeling Ranger while holding her own knee over the back of her leg.
“What do I learn, Sir, by watching you do something that I have already seen and felt you do to me... To the other as well.”

Malik exhaled through his nose sharply. “How many captured?”

“M-many.” Warda responded. She understood immediately what he was getting at.
“Too many for you to handle alone. So then-”

“Not all Orcs are Shaman. They can't be. How would a society function if everyone had power?”

Warda nodded, but she could not directly address him, as she was purely focused on keeping the Ranger from squirming free.
“So then who has it?”

Malik sounded smug as he spoke. “Well... Depends on who you ask. If you ask anyone in Waren, it's the Orcs meant to rule that are granted the ability. Passed it. If you ask me? Self fulfilling prophecy. Some discovered it or were granted it at some point. Maybe they deserved it or were worthy of it. But down the line, others inherited it, regardless of any worth or value to them having it. It sounds mystical because it involves magic but it's the same everywhere. With you. With those humans in the east and west. The Seraphs. Power perpetuates power. “ Malik placed a hand on her shoulder. With his other hand he swirled a particular milled grain in a bowl in front of her face. As he stopped it settled.
“Once power rests, it doesn't leave unless someone lets it, or forces it.” With that he tilted the bowl, causing the grain to fall into a small basin in front of the elf..

”And who would? Can you think of anyone in your Kingdom?”

Warda stared down in thought and shook her head. “No.”

Malik lifted his hand from her shoulder and began pacing around the room, collecting various items to place in the pot in front of the Ranger.
“You wouldn't. Because you are like me. You are Exceptionalism restrained to the Mediocrity granted power.” Even without the conditioning, Warda felt something strange happening. His words speaking to her and indoctrinating her. They did not touch those parts of her mind that he manipulated, they touched far deeper held traumas inflicted upon her by her superiors and her Kingdom in general. She felt herself beginning to nod along of her own accord.

“Isn't it interesting that we are at peace?”

“Is... It?”

“You're taught that I am an existential threat. You're made to hate me and wish for me to go extinct because for as long as I am alive, an Orc is alive, your people are under threat.” He smiled widely and shrugged. She expected some contradiction to that statement, instead her eyes were widened by his admission as he said.
“Absolutely CORRECT, they are.”

“But-” Warda gulped. He continued speaking and she did not feel she could interrupt. Beneath her the Ranger was still squirming, but had been brought mostly under control.

“My people are taught that Elves are supposed to be ours. That the Planet itself belongs to us. We are the first people and we will be the last to rule over all. Our fundamental beliefs taught to every Orc state that we MUST be continuously working towards this common goal. And we are all correct, aren't we?”

“We're all- You are a threat to us and we are a threat to you? A blasphemy by existing freely in your world?” Warda questioned.

“Exactly. But this isn't a sermon, it was a question. Why are we at peace? Why is there a truce at all?” Malike posed the question again, causing Warda to furrow her brow deeply.

The answer struck her rather quickly. “The ideologies are a method of control, but the actions that they would beg are not required to retain it. They don't believe anything, they're just appealing to belief. They're inconsistent. The Peace is an agreement to retain authority on both ends, which then perpetuates the structures that are in place to keep them all in power.” Warda felt it was fairly obvious the moment she said it out loud. She clicked her tongue.

“What are you two yammering on about in your barbaric tongue?” The Ranger grunted in Porish.

Warda looked down upon her in a new context. Pity. She was a byproduct of the struggle and she was ready to sacrifice herself willingly because she believed in an ideal that her great leaders did not even truly believe. Warda felt a renewed motivation, a genuine faith.
“Tell me what I have to do.”

Malik chuckled and lit the pot in front of the woman. Without much of a flame at all the ingredients began to crackle and produce a very thick plume of gray smoke. “Hold her head over the smoke and try not to breath too deeply.”

“What-” Warda struggled to push the Ranger's head down, but she fought and leaned back, effectively at first.
“Is it?”

“A potent drug. A concentrated form of incense that relaxes the senses and inhibitions. In this form it promotes a sort of... Perceived out of body sensation. Their logical mind will perceive the events and absorb information, but the personality will not make the connection that it's happening to them.” As soon as Malik said that, the Ranger's body began to relax somewhat. She was not in the smoke as he asked, but she had not been able to avoid breathing some of it in. Warda was able to fully hold her breath or lean away to take breaths. She also freed one hand as the woman relaxed to pull the cloth of her top over her mouth and nose.

“Get down!” Warda uttered in frustration, finally able to bend the strong woman over the pot. The gray smoke surrounded her, making it impossible for her to escape it.

Malik knelt down a few feet away and observed closely. “She's holding her breath...”

“How can you tell?”

“I can tell. But you... You need to place a hand over her chest. Don't need to hold her too tightly, now.”

“I see...” Warda leaned back, took a breath, then went in on a hold and wrapped her arm around to the front. She slide it under the woman's armor to make skin to skin contact with her chest near her lungs; The Ranger had small, perky breasts so they did not take up enough space to be difficult.
“I don't feel anything...”

“You're smart. Good senses. If you don't feel anything, trust that there isn't anything.”

“What do you- Ah!” She finally felt the woman's chest expand as the woman finally lost her hold and inhaled involuntarily, regardless of what it was.

“Now we want this one to be useful, so you count. Ten seconds. It shouldn't take much more but if someone is resisting you can take them out, let them rest and put them back in.”

“It's damaging, otherwise.” Warda guessed.

“Good.” The Orc smiled.
“She's fully relaxed so untie her as you're counting.”

“Understood...” She released the bindings. Instead of fighting, the Ranger's arms fell in front of her and landed on her lap. Warda counted to ten and pulled her back.
“No resistance. Probably good?”

“Probably right.” Malik shrugged, standing.

Warda pulled her back onto her rear away from the smoke and craned her head to look at the Ranger. The Ranger turned to look at her with a solid glare, causing the former officer to jump.
“Traitor. I can't believe you're working with them.” She muttered in Porish.

Warda glanced over cautiously. “Does she need more time?”

“Is she fighting?” He asked. Warda shook her head.
“Then not at all. It's done. Strip that one down.”

“Yessir.” Warda removed her armor. Carefully at first.

“No need for caution. We're throwing all that out. Melt down the metal, salvage the leather. Cut it or tear it. Doesn't matter.”

“I see.” Warda immediately heeded his advice and simply cut her straps and tore where she needed to to get the Ranger free from her clothing as fast as possible.

“How dare you.” The Ranger sneered. Despite her protest, she was able to be manipulated physically like a doll and seemed incapable of action aside from voicing dissent. It was something that Warda had never heard of, but it was so Orcish that she almost could not handle seeing it without cracking a bit herself.

“Why's she speaking like that?”

“That part of her that knows what's happening. That hates it. It's unaffected. She just can't do anything. The mind absorbs while the personality watches.” Malik seemed amused by that aspect especially. It struck Warda as being particularly cruel and she sensed that there was probably a way to achieve the desired effect without putting someone's awake psyche through it.
“You're going to train many girls like this yourself to help me.”

“Why me?” Warda questioned awkwardly.

“Innocent, shy, meek girl?” Malik cackled mockingly.

Warda cringed. She had barely ever heard that tone from him. “W-what?”

“The image you portray is not who you are.”

“Not who I...” Warda swallowed heavily and felt a shiver run up her spine.
“Am?”

“I can see it. Malice. Eagerness. Arousal. Some of it without my help. It's what's required for someone to sell out a kingdom of innocents for a personal slight.” Malik claimed. Warda's cheeks flushed. She looked down and realized she was soaked between her legs. It was barely even a thought until it was pointed out, but once it was she bit her bottom lip to stop a smile from forming.
“Resistance is cute. Hiding your true feelings is not.” He reached down and like god reaching out to Adam Malik's finger touched her forehead and created blue light. An orgasm immediately flushed through her entire body, starting from her brain. She gasped and started panting heavily and salivating and almost foaming. She had become more aware of how she was feeling and why and it was so good to be unrestrained, she decided.

Warda turned to look upon the Ranger. The woman stared with disdain and uttered. “Look at you. What you've become. Disgusting.” In response the awakened Warda smiled widely and sympathetically. She slid over to the woman and ran a hand up her naked back gently. She trailed her fingers up the crease in her back, then over her spine and up her neck until her hands wove into her golden mane at the back of the Ranger's head. As she did, her other and took the woman's hand and guided it to do the same to her. They mirrored each other and Warda was in a position now to have her mirror even more positions.
“What are you doing? Do you feel good about yourself? Salivating over serving some Orc?”

“Yes.” Warda nodded.
“It feels...” She breath.
“It actually feels really, really good.” She slide back down to one knee, then guided the Ranger to do the same. She fell to both knees as the other did as well. With her hand still on the back of the woman's head. Both she and the woman bowed deeply in front of Malik.

“Muscle memory is strong right now.” He acknowledged proudly without moving. He watched and let blood rush to his member at the sight of Warda leading the Ranger to bend down and press her lips so lovingly to the top of his bare green foot.

“This is disgusting.” The Ranger complained, held in a bow above Malik's foot right after kissing it once. She was directed down for another as Warda did the same.
“Why...”

Warda turned her head and directed the other to mirror and do the same. She smiled jovially while the Ranger frowned.
“It's better to kiss the top of the foot than the bottom, isn't it, Sister?” Warda spoke to her directly in Porish again. Both the Ranger and Malik seemed surprised, but the Orc did not interject, he merely cocked his head and stared down with interest.

“The...” The Ranger did not seem to know what to say.
“To not do either would be preferable.” She decided sensibly.

“Not an option.” Warda trained sharply. Malik saw what she was doing, felt impressed and lifted his foot to accommodate. They saw it, dark and worn. Not unusual for the bottom of a foot that is typically bare.
“You choose one, or you get the worse.”

The ranger's lip quivered. “T-top.” She relented passively. Malik nodded slowly and lowered her foot. Instead of directing the woman to mirror her physically, Warda released her fully. Instead of being guided, Warda waited and allowed the woman to instead copy and follow her as she leaned down to kiss the top of Malik's foot obediently. There was even a bit of sliva that escaped as it was a rather wet kiss; one that was begging for approval. The Ranger's shoulders slumped. As Warda leaned back the Ranger did as well. The woman looked sad. Warda rested a gentle hand on her shoulder to encourage her.

“There's no shame in losing to something that is designed to defeat us. It's just natural.” She said in a soft tone to contrast the sharpness that she had in her corrections before.

“It's natural.” The Ranger admitted. The cope was simply more comfortable than the fact. She was weak and she lost. If the enemy was better there was no helping it and less shame in it.

“I didn't teach you to do this.” Malik stated excitedly in Orcish so that the Elf would be out of the loop. Warda looked up in surprise, her ears perking at the compliment. She beamed with pride and expectation. Malik grinned and rested an affectionate hand on her head of smooth brown hair.
“To break someone's pride directly... You skipped ahead. And now watch how setting a baseline can affect the direction of things moving forward.” He turned her attention to the Ranger. She was shifting uncomfortably, somewhat jealously almost at the affection that Warda was being treated to. Malik exhaled deeply as the one he decided in that moment to be his actual Second, reached up and cupped his balls in one hand while lifting his half-hard member with the other. She stared at the Ranger expectantly and guided the massive thing to the girl's lips.

The Ranger stuck her tongue out over her bottom lip and accepted his Orc cock into her mouth with a mild moaning noise emanating from her mouth as she began to suck on it and lick it.  The woman who called Warda disgusting was jealously sucking down Malik's cock to impress him, because it was as he said. Her pride had been broken. Her morality and ethic had been rewritten by one simple act of willful submission. A simple, true ideology to replace the what the girl had been taught her whole life. Malik thought on it and could not help but shake his head and laugh.

“Better to kiss the top of the foot than the bottom... Why didn't I think of that? Only an Elf.” He stared down at Warda with a high appraisal as she rubbed the Ranger's back and made her comfortable to keep obediently sucking and going further.
“I've decided.” Malik stated.

“What have you decided, Sir?” Warda asked curiously.

“You chose wisely and now you get to kiss the very top.”  He offered, pulling his cock from the surprised Ranger's lips. The woman just sat stunned and stared up as Malik offered is thick green member to Warda who happily enveloped it and then gleefully sucked it right down to the base. The girl was able to see her throat stretch from the width of it. Her body had actually been altered, changed by being with him. It was adapted to Orcs and she could guess that she would be, too. And she thought it might not be so bad in her time of weakness. So long as she could kiss the very top and not the bottom. The Ranger swallowed physically, then swallowed her pride further and leaned her weak body in to suck one of Malik's balls into her mouth. She pulled affectionately as if she was playing with a lover. The Orc threw his head back and laughed.
“You see this?” He pointed down to the Ranger.
“This was you.” He uttered proudly. Warda closed her eyes and felt at home as she slowly pulled back and comfortably slide back and forth over his cock.

-

Beautiful long, blonde feathered hair left to fall freely around their shoulders. Long ears adorned with a thin metal guard over the top and rings all up the bottom. Silver, not gold. Regardless of what color their eyes were, they were hidden behind a solid silver mask with a point over the nose. It left the gently smiling mouth with soft, painted lips visible. The armor granted by the Orcs was that of form, not function. The objective was only humiliation, not effectiveness, though the humiliation was for those of the same kind that saw the former Elves, not the girls themselves for they were content and happy after their training. Happy to wear what they were told, do what they were told and act how their masters willed. Thin, revealing tops, high boots with heels and long arm-guards. Their bellies and backs were open to the world to show the markings they were given as a part of their conversion. Over the cunt and above the rear. Some had more intricate markings running even further up their backs and around their necks like collars to indicate specific Orcs they were promised to. They were trusted with weapons, because they no longer had the desire to fight unless told to by those that broke them.

Among all the tall, powerful, beautiful women the most plain among them by observable fact was the one that seemed to hold herself above them. Behind what seemed like sightless silver masks they looked to her for direction, unless they were kneeling to her with their heads lowered. Rather than the same humiliating garb, she wore something more akin to a priestess's robe. A thin gown of barely obtuse fabric that showed off her minor curves and unformed muscles. She seemed to have status, but then even she knelt humbly as the man that had claim to her stepped into the Command tent.