Curumo, slices of vice. by Chiara Cadrich

Orclings

Orclings

Warning : somehow trash and M-PREG !

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« I wonder what he has done? Are they Men he has ruined, or has he blended the races of Orcs and Men? That would be a black evil! » Treebeard.

The Lord of the rings, The two towers, Book III, Chapter 4 Treebeard.

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In the catacombs of Isengard ...

Draped in his immaculate mantle, an old man of noble bearing paced the breeding chamber without hiding his discontent:

- Well, Snagaur? Where are the companies of Saruman? Where are the high men of my new order?

With a sneer of disgust, the wizard removed with his staff, the unclean reliefs of some aborted experimentations. A placenta rolled into the mire, with a bloody fetus that looked half-rat, half-orc.

Hobbling in the skirts of his master, an arched orc whined obsequiously:

- Women refuse to mate with orcs...

Saruman probed Snagaur's half-closed eyelids. The yellow and sly look betrayed a lustful regret.

- “So my Dunlending allies refuse to engender the human elite of tomorrow? Let it be! But did I not give you robust women enslaved in Rohan?”

- "These slaves put their offspring to death! The strawhead females mutilate or sacrifice themselves before term!"

- "You are only an incompetent," roared Saruman, threatening the orc with his staff.

Snagaur curled up and threw:

- "Human females long carry their brats, and their litters are thin..."

That orc was right... The human gestation was far too long...

With a gesture of his staff, Saruman snapped Snagaur at the back of the cavern, where the casks and crates imported from the Shire were crowded together with foul dried meats of the orcs, and the bloody and still-born fruits of the breeding chamber.

The white wizard concentrated. The dream of a numerous, indefatigable and resilient humanity, obedient but full of resources, still escaped him... The implacable cogs of his subtle mind had set in motion. Of course... It would have been necessary to blend orc females, infinitely more prolific, with men. But they were also much rarer, and he could not get any. He knew that the possession of the females, the prolific nursery sows kept in the dungeon of the tribal dens, was the stake of wars in the depths of the Misty Mountains. But his deep knowledge gave him other means...

- Human females are not sufficiently prolific?

A disturbing glow lit the white wizard's dark eye.

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Aligned in battery on straw litter, enormous orcs were constantly fed with a porridge carried on a rack in a continuous stream. The puffy males, perpetually fattened and hungry, had been subjected to some transformations by the Master’s subtle art of, for the superior good of the species. Their lower abdomens, agitated with spasms, were swollen with grafted pockets, which sometimes exploded with viscid and brownish liquids. From the gaping pocket, sickly orcs took the ripened fetuses, then replenished some precious eggs, and finally dressed the wound with a repugnant plaster.

Saruman inspected the installations with the high kindness of the founding father, adjusting here the dosimetry of the hormones, ordering there some prophylactic measure.

The little creatures, torn from their paternal wombs, were then placed in the care of other paunchy, abundantly nourished males. Armies of small battling orcs hung themselves at their rows of vast breasts.

The white wizard leaned compassionately on one of the litters, where a dozen small orclings were stirring. A wave of pride mingled with fear, ran through the puffy face of the orc, stretched out and unable to move. Saruman watched attentively, since a domestic drama occurred along the orcish flank, stretched by lactation.

Two babies, small gluming forms halfway between the orc and the human, were distraught. One, supernumerary, was deprived of a nipple. The other had chosen a dry breast. But both of them dislodged their neighbors ruthlessly. As the disinherited sought their place with ferocity, the two fellows cut off the question with their canines, along with the carotid of their unfortunate rivals.

The victims of this natural selection were recycled without regret, integrated into the rich diet of the insatiably hungry orcs.

But Saruman exulted for the perfection of his creation:

- "Here are natural leaders! These two will certainly be captains... Call them... Ugluk… and... Mauhour! And give them some human flesh to motivate them..."

Saruman embraced with a superior and paternal glance, the teeming army of his orclings. The dawn of the new orc-man, strong and implacable, would soon rise under the white hand.

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