Chapter Text
“... strike by strike, we will return each blow ten thousand fold!” The queen’s voice sounded out over footage of the burning towers and homes in Hargen’za, as I sat silent with the other orcs crowded around the TV in the barracks. I called my aunt earlier to no reply, calling my mom right after to see if my aunt and cousins were safe - mom only said that she would tell me when she knew herself, but tried to assure me that they lived far enough from the city center that the worst they were going through was probably just a power outage. Yet imagining whose faces the bodies barely hidden by the smoke on the news footage could be…
The barracks were eerily quiet, everyone staring at the footage until we slinked off to our bunks one by one. Some were shaking in rage. Some were burying their faces in pillows to hide their tears. I was sure a few more were staring at the ceiling like me, unable to sleep as the dark passed into light, and morning arose. I got out of my bunk when it was time, dragging myself to Maxime’s room to wake him up before breakfast. When I knocked, I heard him shove some furniture out of the way of the door before emerging, yawning loudly before giving a greeting in orcish.
“Good morning to you too Maxime,” I replied quietly in Vandian. “Look… there’s something I need to tell you about…”
He looked up at me with his head tilted, his tan face and black hair framing his big brown eyes, waiting silently for me to go on.
“There was… there was an attack. There’s a country by us - by the kingdom I mean, it’s far from us here in Pardren’ta - but they fired missiles around the city of Hargen’za. So things might be a little… tense, at least for today. Maybe the next few days. I don’t know. No one knows.”
I thought back to what dad said. “Us males, we like when orcs are strong! That doesn’t mean you can’t be vulnerable with the male you love, but don’t forget that you need to be his rock whenever there’s a storm.” Today, I needed to be Maxime’s rock. I will not cry. I will not tell him I’m scared that I won't see my cousins and aunt again. I will be strong.
Looking down at him, he seemed confused for a moment, his lips quivering. For a moment, I thought he might start to shed a tear - that alone could have made me break down. Instead, he cracked a smile, hastening to hide it, turning away and pretending to cough. I fought the urge to slap him, putting my balled up fists against my hips as I scowled down at him.
“What’s so fucking funny about it, huh?” I said in a growl, making him go pale, looking back up at me in terror.
“N-no it’s not funny at all…” He said, shivering, eyeing the door to his room. “I just… I guess I don’t know what to say, really it’s not what I expected…”
I tried to soften a little, realizing I might be scaring him. I still needed to be firm, but…
“I don’t care if you ‘don’t know’ what to say! Don’t crack a smile when someone tells you news like that!’ I said in an angry whisper. “If you grinned at someone whose mother or sister died in that attack, how do you think they’d respond, huh?”
He stayed quaking silently, staring at his feet while grinding his teeth. “I-I-I’m sorry Zantha, really I am… d-did… is your family okay?”
Shit. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. I couldn’t tear up. Not now, not in front of him, I couldn’t…
“My aunt and cousins live there - but they’re okay, just going through some kinda power outage.”
He let out a deep breath of relief. “I’m glad your family is safe, Zantha.” He looked up at me as he said the brief phrase in Orcish. I smiled weakly down at him, patting him on the head. He took my hand, letting me guide him out of the dorm as we made our way to the cafeteria. Out the doors of the male dorms, we paused to see a crowd of orcs gathered around.
A Mondian male was on the dirt-path, his face bloodied from a broken nose, browned from being pressed into the dirt, his teeth shattered and scattered in front of his tear-streaked face while he wailed in pain. He was surrounded by orcs of every class at this academy, their cocks out while he was stripped bare, his ass up towards the sky, hole gaping wide and raw as the next orc to take her turn plunged deep into him as he cried out a string of apologies and pleas for forgiveness.
On that request, an orc kicked him in the face, letting another array of teeth fly out of his blood-red mouth, while another spat on his welt-covered back. Once I recognized him, I thought that maybe his girlfriend had failed in trying to protect him, before I recognized her as the one punching him in the kidney, right above the still bloody bite marks.
“Shut the fuck up you Mondian swine!” She snapped, delivering another ruthless strike, making him cough up a spray of blood. “Why should we care if you want this to stop? Did the orcs in Hargen’za stop bleeding when they begged for the bombs to stop falling?”
Maxime looked at a guard watching on in disinterest, letting the carnage go on, before I could drag him by the hand away from the gang-rape.
“I-is she going to do anything?” He asked in a hushed voice in Vandian. I shook my head solemnly.
“They might stop him from dying, send him to the temple of Esta.” I said, equally hushed in Vandian. “But I doubt they care if he gets beaten beyond all recognition.”
He shivered, pressing himself against my skirt-clad thigh, making my heart race. Before I could say anything comforting, we heard a gut-wrenching snapping sound, and a shriek of pain from the Mondian male. I turned to see Gurkha joined in on the gang-rape, her foot slammed down on his knee, snapping his leg like a twig, the snapping and shriek from at least one broken bone, if not several. Maxime looked like he might be sick, turning a paler shade than I knew he could turn.
We sped on to the cafeteria, and were met with an eerie silence. Everyone was eating their breakfast in total silence, only the occasional whisper exchanged between the scrapings of silverware against the plates of food. We both grabbed our own trays of food, pushing it around our plates without exchanging words. It didn’t take long until we disposed of the barely-eaten food, and marched out.
We passed the gang-rape of the Mondian boy, now with even more onlookers and participants, thankfully obscuring Maxime’s view. We kept on, making our way past the entrance to the field of temples, a long line in front of the temple of Gehrana. In the line, I spotted Gorta’n and Caltha, and getting closer, I saw the collar on Caltha, a chain reaching from his neck to her wrist. I approached them with a smile.
“Congrats! When did you two get married?”
Gorta’n gave me a light smile, rustling Caltha’s hair. “Just last night. I told him after the attack I wanted to join the army right away, so he needed to marry me if he wanted to come along on the campaign.”
I looked down at Caltha, blushing and rubbing his belly with his hand. “I’m guessing he’s not at graduating age, no?”
She grinned, “Nah, he’s still too young for that - but not too young to carry young. Isn’t that right, babe?”
Caltha looked down, blushing deeper and deeper red. “I-I… well… I hope I can give you plenty of babies…” he looked up at Maxime, speaking slowly. “And I hope you can do the same as me, Maxime!”
Maxime gave a polite smile, thanking him. We gave our well wishes, and moved on to the human studies building. I made a mental note to get them a marriage gift before they leave for the army - the traditional gift would be a bottle of love’s nectar from the temple of Fei’nadi. If I knew before today that they’d be getting married this soon, I’d’ve bought a bottle from a Crown Market - it wouldn’t necessarily be blessed the same as the ones at the temple, but it would have been far cheaper.
I dropped Maxime off at his Orcish class, patting him gently before turning him to his seat, leaving him there as I made my own way to my Vandian class. The halls were silent, just like outside. Or the cafeteria. Or even the line in front of the temple of Gehrana. Not a sound could be heard all throughout the campus all morning, save for the rape of the Mondian boy. Even the Vandian lecture passed in silence, the teacher uninterrupted for the whole hour, even if none of the students were listening any better today than they did any other. Everyone just looked on glass-eyed until the bell.
Upon said bell, I waited for the class to disperse before approaching professor Flek’nad.
“Good morning professor,” I started. “How ha-”
“Good morning Zantha - I hope all is going well with Maxime. You know, I’m sure he’s very scared, given all the hubbub about those missile strikes last night.”
“Yes, it’s all been very hard on him… I was ho-”
“But what can you expect of a male, hm? They’re such soft-hearted things, aren’t they? That’s what’s so loveable about them! Not so sure myself why orcs are getting so weepy about those missiles, all the way over in Hargen’za, we’re safe as can be, obviously, wouldn’t you say?”
“Uh, yes, I think we’re safe, although my cousins in Hargen’za are -”
“Oh! Oh my I’m sorry, I hope that wasn’t too insensitive, I do hope they’re safe!”
“They’re fine,” I lied, hoping to re-rail her to my question. “But I wanted to ask you about something with Vanidan boys -”
“Oh, do ask! I tell you, I know all there is to know about Vandian boys, they’re such adorable boys, aren’t they? Cutest boys on the continent, and the sexiest men too! I tell you, when they get pregnant, they just pop with-”
“Professor!” I stammered, “I just wanted to know if they have any special courtship rituals, or if there’s anything that I could do to make one want to-”
“Oh don’t say ‘one’ like I don’t know who you’re talking about!”
“... if there’s anything I could do to make Maxime want to be a father to orc babies.” I said with an embarrassed sigh.
“Well,” she started, crossing her arms with a thoughtful look on her face, “Vandians are a little special, among human societies. Their one remaining nation has an intense difference in culture between the different social classes. When it comes to the courtship of the wealthy, they expect the males to be more like the males of the empire - seduced, sometimes forcefully, both by futas and women. Sometimes, males will even try to appeal to their own chastity, bragging about ‘saving themselves for marriage.’ Among the less wealthy however… hehe, everyone takes what they can get, don’t they? Males will be a little, or even a lot more promiscuous than their wealthier counterparts, as will futa (although women tend not to, for whatever reason).”
“So you’re saying Maxime might want to be treated like he’s a bit more promiscuous?”
“No. I don’t know what he wants, you’d have to ask him. You just asked me about their courtship.”
“Okay… well sometimes I see human movies where a male gives a woman flowers or something like that. Would Vandian males like that?”
“Flowers would be strange for them, given their spiritual beliefs. I guess a more appropriate courtship gift might be a cooked meal, or maybe some jewelry, but not in the orcish style, they might consider that a little too feminine for a male.”
She leaned back in her chair, studying my face. “But why do you want to ‘court’ him at all?”
I blushed. “He’s uh… he’s cute, and a good-”
“No no, I get why you like him - if I were your age I would too. No, I mean why are you seeking to court him instead of doing things our way?”
I tried to keep from frowning. “I’m not sure myself, I just… don’t want to start off badly with him, is a-.”
“Start off badly?” Flek’nad’s face screwed up in confusion. “You know all males just want to be taken by orcs, right? That’s just fact! Why deal in the tricks that human futa have to use?”
I knew in my heart that even if what she said was true, it might not have been with Maxime. What he told me that one morning… He was mistaken, of course, his mind still needing to shake free of the binds of human futa indoctrination, but his pain was all too real. He just didn’t understand, we would never hurt his father, or his mother. And that creature of a ‘girlfriend’… he’d be better off without her, didn’t he understand that? Not that I could tell anyone what he said - if anyone knew that he was harboring such anti-orc ideas, he could get in serious trouble…
“Er… something my father told me, you know it’s like-”
“I’m sure your daddy is a swell male, I really do - but you need to know better than to listen to males about much of anything.”
“Even about males?”
“Especially about males!”
“Well I think they might know something, right? They can’t be totally clueless about what other males want or like.”
“Males don’t know what they like until it’s forced on them, you should know that!” Flek’nad rifled through the drawers under her desk, pulling out an old-looking pamphlet. “You ever read this before?”
I looked over the paper and suppressed a groan. “Yeah, it’s the last queen’s letter on male rehabilitation.”
“Two queens previous now, remember?”
“Ah, yes, two queens ago, queen Vrel’kni, not Ameta.”
“Yes, well Vrel’kni commissioned this educational material on the benefits of male submission to their betters, but it’s more than that, I’m sure you know! And I know more about it than most, I was the one who gave it its modern Vandian translation.”
It’s a famous pamphlet, a response from the queen on a male’s experience in prison. This male was in prison for refusing his wife, one of the very few crimes males can even commit in the kingdom. The male wrote a letter to the queen, complaining that he was being treated cruelly, far beyond what he believed his crime justified. The male’s prison sentence was rehabilitative, so he was kept in a prison with other orcs - he was the only male in the entire prison, of around 4,000 orcs. Every day he would be raped, usually by the inmates, although sometimes also by guards joining in with the inmates. He was rarely fed anything that wasn’t glazed by the cum of the orc prisoners, and that’s if he even got fed. Any time he resisted, even a small protest, he’d be beaten before he was raped. He was not even permitted to have his own cell, rather orcs (who all slept in cells for up to eight of them) would pass him between cells each night, some keeping him confined to a bunk for days on end to be whored out, others being violently possessive of him. He had only served the first month of his two year sentence when the letter was sent, and complained that he was already missing teeth, that he had new aches and bruises every day, and was sleeping so rarely that he’d fall asleep in the midst of gang-rapes (which would, of course, earn him further harsh beatings). The male was a foreigner, so he didn’t understand that this was not what he might have considered “cruel and unusual punishment,” in fact calling it “punishment” was controversial in and of itself.
When the queen learned of the letter, she published it in a pamphlet with a response. In her response, she explained that his crime of denying his wife justified anything an orc in that prison could get away with, and demanded that his sentence be upgraded to ten years. She then sent in crews to photograph him with the prisoners, his nude, disheveled form being held up by a dozen smiling orcs, all with hard, slick cocks, a thick runny slurry of cum dripping from both of his holes - the famous cover photo of the pamphlet. The queen also decreed that he should be turned over to the temple of Fei’nadi once his sentence had ended, so he could be used for the pleasure of any orc who wanted, denying him the dignity of marriage.
The lesson of the pamphlet was clear to any male that read it - resistance will only bring you something far worse than anything you’re getting right now. Every male in the kingdom that showed signs of disobedience to the natural order was given a copy to read, along with some of the photos and videos of his sentence for good measure. I myself got a few copies of the series of images from the temple of Fei’nadi, and they were every bit as titillating as they sounded - although by the later videos and photos, it was pretty clear he had gotten over the “harsh treatment,” and was starting to really enjoy it.
“I recommend you have him read it, and show him some of the films too.” Flek’nad said, pushing it into my hands.
“I don’t think I want to scare him, at least no-”
“Fear is what keeps males in line, you should know that! Males are afraid of prison, so they stay obedient, even if they’ve been conquered.”
“Do you think that maybe some males can just learn to love orcs?”
“Learn to? That’s like learning to breathe, eat, or crap! It’s the natural state of the male mind! Any male that doesn’t want to be fucked by an orc has some defect of reason, and needs rehabilitation!”
“But not every male submits willingly, or we wouldn’t need to scare them into submission, would we? Are all of those male de-”
“Most of them, yeah, I’d wager!” She leaned back into her seat and sighed. “Look, I’m no expert in all this, you’d be better off asking your human psychology teacher about it.”
“I… I understand. I just wanted to know if it was any different for Vandians.”
“A Vandian male is a Kingdom-born male is an Imperial male.” She said with a grin. “The difference lies in language and socialization, I’m sure any other well-educated orc can attest to.”
I pocketed the Vandian pamphlet and made my way to my next class, meeting more glassy-eyed faces as I strode in late. The day passed in a numb blur, every orc and male wearing a mask of silent screams. In every class and passing between, I never saw a Mondian male - perhaps they all took the hint that they might not be met with kindness today, given how the one out in front of the male dorms was crying out from the violent gang-raping he was at the receiving end of.
In the lull before I picked Maxime up from his Orcish class, I stopped by the temple of Fei’nadi to buy a bottle of love’s nectar for Caltha and Gorta’n. The price tag made me gasp - only a tin short of two silvers, an outrageous markup from what could be purchased at a Crown Market. I bought it with a grumble, turning to the lineup in front of the temple of Gehrana, seeing the couple nearly at the entrance before having an idea. I held off on delivering the gift, instead heading off to Maxime’s class, waiting outside the door for the bell.
When it rang and he came out, I handed him the bottle.
“Love… uh… nec-tar of?” He sounded out, his confused voice making me want to coo.
“Love’s nectar - you pronounced it right, very good!” I replied in Vandian.
“What is it?” He replied in Vandian, sounding a bit relieved to not need to speak Orcish.
“It’s an aphrodisiac drink. It’s a typical gift for a married couple, high alcohol content to make the babies strong, and with ingredients that keep him… titillated.”
He blushed, trying to hand it back to me while looking away. “I-I don’t know what you mean by-”
“Relax Maxime, I’m not giving it to you - you are giving it to Caltha and Gorta’n.”
“O-oh!” He stammered, falling over himself trying to apologize. I just smiled and gestured for him to follow me, blinking back tears from his response.
We came back to the field of temples in silence, looking for the couple in the line. “They must be inside getting signed on.” I guessed. “We can wait out here for them.”
Maxime agreed, clutching the bottle of love’s nectar against his waist. “What’s that shorter line over there?” He asked, pointing to a pop-up desk on the other side of the field. I had to squint to read the text painted onto the front of the wood desk - ‘retinue recruitment.’
“Oh, that’s the recruiter for the queen’s retinue.” I explained, confused by the sight myself. “It’s a little weird that anyone is even taking that up, if they want revenge against Mondi though. The retinue is split up by Governate, Hargen’za is all the way in Lefante, but Pardren’ta is in Tetudo, on the other side of the country. Even if the war did spread into the kingdom, someone in the Tetudo retinue wouldn’t see any action.”
“I thought the retinues were just a police force?” Maxime asked.
“In peacetime, yeah. But if war reaches the kingdom, then the retinue acts as an army that assists the temple of Gehrana, although my mom told me the army doesn’t really like getting help from the retinue - probably typical stuck-up knightly arrogance.”
Maxime snickered, before falling back into the silence that struck the rest of the campus. I wished I could say something more to make him laugh again, anything to break the heavy silence. Thankfully, before the silence could smother us both, I saw Gorta’n and Caltha, both beaming as they walked out of the temple of Gehrana. I pushed Maxime ahead of me, walking us to them.
“You guys get signed up?” I asked, looking at Caltha’s collar with a twinge of jealousy.
“Yep, we’re getting deployed next week!” Gorta’n said with a gleam in her eye. “I’m excited to show those fuckers what for!”
I gave Maxime another gentle push towards Caltha. “Maxime has something for you two.”
He held out the bottle, turning it to read the label. “Please have this… love’s nectar.” He said, sounding out ‘love’s nectar’ as best he could.
“Oh my, that’s so sweet of you!” Caltha exclaimed, holding the bottle with him. “I’ll have to remember to send you one when you get married too!”
“Thank you, Caltha. I hope you like your orc!” Maxime said slowly, letting the awkward well-wish hang as Caltha and Gorta’n both giggled.
“You’ve clearly taught him well Zantha!” Gorta’n chuckled, clasping me on the back. “He’ll be fluent in no time, I’m sure!”
“I hope so, he still has a long way to go - but he’s made excellent progress!” I gave him a pat on the head along with the praise. I looked down at him and saw him pale again, his hands on the bottle shaking and loosening, letting Caltha hold it himself.
I traced his vision to the temple of Esta, the Mondian male we saw earlier getting carried by his scowling girlfriend, his limbs all a tangle of broken bones, his skin colored shades from black and blue to red and purple. Most of his hair had been torn off his scalp, some scraps of skin peeled back from it, traces of bloody palmprints on his head and back. He was still breathing shallow gasps, though not through his bloodied broken nose. His asshole looked like it was taking gasping breaths, loosened and red, cum and blood dripping down his thighs as he was taken into the temple, disappearing from view.
Caltha spat on the ground in their direction, sneering. “Serves him right! A Mondian should know better than to show himself after what they did!”
Maxime looked like he was about to feint, so I reached out my hand.
My heart skipped a beat when he reached up to grab it.