	Not knowing your fate can be terrifying. Finding out your destiny can be worse in many ways. Lorle couldn't have woken up in a more distressing situation than he found himself in. He had been traveling along a woodland stream when a tall, dark shape dashed toward him, and now he had awoken... wherever he was now; which was unfamiliar. He couldn't see at first, as he was still blinded by the lingering darkness; save for what appeared to be faint torchlight. Lorle could; however, hear quite well what was going on around him. It almost sounded like he was being sold. Lorle listened further, he couldn't believe what he was hearing.  "What a wonderful prize you've lead us too." said a deep, snuffling voice. "I hoped you would like this one. His vaginal region seemed to be... sexually functional, upon examination." said a second being; who sounded far too pleased with himself. Lorle felt a sudden jolt in his lower torso; speculation on what may have been done fueling his sense of mortification. He began to quiver, as he simultaneously began to cry. "Ah; at last; the little otter has recovered!" Said the first voice. It sounded like a wild boar; that is, should one figure out a higher level of speaking besides grunts and snorts. Lorle heard what sounded like the transfer of coins from one speaker to the other. "You have done us a great service; our Chieftain appreciates both man and female." Lorle could sense a presence behind him. He tried to turn about; but found that he was bound by the wrists to some sort of pole. He heard a snorting sort of laughter around him. "Please thank your Chieftain for his coin!" Said the second male; as it began to fade into the distance. "Certainly." Said the first as he lifted the young otter from where he was bound. Lorle's bound arms were loosened from their strained position, he scrambled for a moment to latch onto whoever held him now. Lorle let out a shrill squeak as the blindfold was lifted up over his ears. He was too terrified to attempt escape; not that he could. He had never seen this type of beast-man before... It almost made him dizzy to stare into the tusked snout of the giant, green orc that had lifted him into its arms like a cub's toy. "This is a joyous night." announced the orc. "You are lucky, little one. Not every Tribe would spare your life; even if it's just to make you a slave." Lorle tried to avoid the wrinkled, bristly snout, but it drew across his face; as the male snuffled over him as if he were searching for a particular scent. Lorle whined as the boar began to run its long, slimy tongue over his cheek and neck, drool slicking his fur. "We've wanted a being like you for many turns of the moon. Tell me; have you been deflowered yet, little otter?" Lorle went slack, his shoulders slumping in shock. Had he been physically ogled by these creatures? This and many other questions flew through Lorle like the winds of a typhoon. This was the most disturbing thing to be said so far. The creature must have sensed Lorle's fear; as it was letting out another snorting laugh, it's wrinkled brow twitching with each exhaled breath, his floppy ears bouncing to and fro. "P-Please... don't- not like this..." Lorle tried to plead through his whimpering. The orcs around them began to snuffle and chuckle as well; as though Lorle's distress brought them a perverse enjoyment. Their torches flickering in the blackness; giving a horrifying visual to go with the otter's whimpering sobs. "Help..." Lorle choked; more to the darkness than anyone in particular. The nightly stars were illuminating just enough to complete this eerie realization; there must have been a small army present, as far as Lorle's blurring vision could make out. Lorle's adrenaline finally began to affect his brain as his head swayed. He shuddered and fainted in his captor's thick, bristled arms.
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Lorle awake again with a gasp. Wherever he was now, he couldn't see past his own nose. He felt disturbingly exposed; a slow breeze blowing across his fur. He could sense movement around him, and could hear whispers. Then the great braziers on the corners of the hut-like room lit up, revealing the danger the defenseless otter was in. Orcs, too clustered for Lorle to guess how many; surrounded him on all sides. He looked about and realized that he lay upon a cusioned alter of some kind; his arms and right leg were chained to three of the four loops on the corners. He was, as feared, completely naked. Lorle tried to cover his femininity with his left leg, he could only do so awkwardly with so little slack in the bindings around his other limbs. The green-skinned beastmen stared with predatory intensity at the struggling otter as they stroked their large erections to full capacity. A few gave slight chuckles at their quivering slave's modesty. Lorle felt sick, the glisting fluids on their spiraling penile shafts making lewd noises as they teased the protective outer flesh. Some had even began to masturbate the male next to them, as though it were a team-effort. The heated lust of these porcine men was obvious enough, but they made no advances toward the helpless otter. Lorle felt himself unable to look away from this malicous display, he was in too much shock. This was only amplified when another hog made his way through the leering crowd. Lorle involuntarily let out a high pitched squeak of terror as this new boar led in what seemed to be a feral bull. It was a great, black monster of a bovine, it's nostrils flaring as it stared Lorle down. The bull was led towards the small mustelid, mouth slack and drooling as it scented the air. Lorle tried to struggle, and again, could not make any headway. Then, the bull began to lick and taste his prize's vulva. A small shriek broke trough the snorting breaths of the aroused bull. This didn't faze the creature at all as it ran it's sloppy, thick tongue over Lorle's sensitive entrance. Lorle's head and upper body lashed back and forth as he tried to escape to no avail. "Make him stop!" He pleaded. The slimy, wet strokes of the bovid's thick sensory muscle began to send small jolts through the otter's delicate frame. Lorle could feel his lower body began to tense under the bull's oral attentions. "P-please!" he cried. There was no answer from the surrounding orcs as their prize breeding bull began contentedly pushing his snout against the small pelvis of the otter. Lorle screamed again; betrayed by his body's heated reaction to the salivating bull dragging it's rubbery tongue against his outer folds. Lorle gasped loudly when the Bull stopped suddenly, pulling it's tounge back and pulling it's lips back in response to the scents of the quivering male. Lorle couldn't breathe, his lungs and heart on overdrive; Wild-eyed terror his only expression. The bull rose it's bulky neck above Lorle, pulling it's lips back as though he'd found a receptive cow. It was apparent to the squirming otter what was to happen next. The bull began to tap the ground with it's fore-hoof as his handler helped him mount; the bull jumping into position for breeding. Lorle felt sick; his paralyzing fear keeping him still. As the bull slammed his front legs above Lorle's shoulders, Lorle lay unflinching; his mind blank with shock. His only thought of how this act would likely kill him, if not by penetration; it would be by the mass of this feral beast crushing him underneath it's chest. Lorle was preparing for the stab of this animal's reddened penis and the subsequent internal tearing, but none came. Lorle had just enough energy to peer up at the monstrous black bull; but wasn't greeted with a farmyard bovine. For whatever reason; he was now about to be raped by a brutish, golden-eyed Minotaur.
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