From Slave to Supreme: The Forbidden Ascension

Virelle stared as the forest clearing gave way to a strange and brutal sight—a village, if it could be called that.

She watched wide-eyed from the cage as the small convoy entered the open area. Rough wooden fences surrounded simple huts made of hide, bone, and mud. 

Orcs of all sizes filled the village square, their sheer size and presence dwarfing her.

A younger male orc, no less imposing than the ones who captured her, dragged a massive wild boar behind him with one hand. 

The beast's skull was caved in, its bulging eyes staring blankly as it slid along the muddy ground. In the orc's other hand was a bloodstained club, still dripping with old gore.

Virelle grimaced.

Grotesque. Savage. Primitive.

And yet… there was a twisted logic in the way they moved. In the way they lived.

Then she spotted—orc children, some as tall as grown men back on Earth, riding wolves the size of horses. Some wolves were smaller, likely juveniles… but then came the giant.

A beast as large as a small elephant.

Mounted atop it was a male orc, armored in crude bone and leather, who locked eyes with her. He leapt down with surprising agility and rushed toward them, arms wide.

"Oh, my WIFE! You're back!!"

Virelle blinked. 

'Wife?'

Melinda stepped forward, catching the orc in a light embrace.

"I'm back, Kartos. We didn't manage to bring much prey today…"

The male's expression darkened immediately.

"No prey? The Matriarch will punish us…"

Melinda waved it off.

"Don't worry. We found something better." 

"Something… the Matriarch might reward us for."

Kartos's eyes lit up, confused but hopeful.

"Reward? Better… than food?"

"Yes," Melinda said calmly. "So go. Take Giltos and settle down before you cause another mess."

The male orc hesitated, pouting slightly before jogging back to his massive wolf.

Virelle watched all of it unfold from behind iron bars. Her hands gripped them tightly as her eyes drifted back to Melinda, who now faced her once more.

"Welcome to Iron Wolf Village, Virelle," Melinda said with a smirk.

"This is your new home now."

Something inside Virelle stirred at those words.

"Am I… going to be treated as a slave here?"

Melinda began walking again, signaling the others to continue carrying the cage. Her voice was calm as she answered.

"No. We don't treat prisoners like slaves."

"But… since you're an unowned human breeder, the village will own you."

Virelle's brows furrowed.

Owned… but not a slave?

"What does that even mean? Isn't that just a nicer way to say I'm a slave?"

Melinda chuckled but shook her head.

"No, it's different. You see, in this world, breeders are sacred."

"Human, orc, elf—it doesn't matter. If you're capable of bearing or creating powerful offspring, then you're valuable. Especially to women."

She turned her head slightly, eyes locking with Virelle's.

"This world is ruled by women. Always has been."

"Men do the labor. Women command the magic—and the legacy."

"And you, Virelle… you're special."

"Special how?" Virelle asked warily.

"You're a Futa. A rare existence," Melinda replied matter-of-factly.

"You're capable of impregnating females of any race, and every offspring you produce will inherit the full bloodline of the mother—with no trace of the father."

Virelle's mouth went dry.

Melinda added, "Your children will always be female, always born with high potential, and always carry the legacy of their mother's clan. In other words, you're a walking… magical inheritance system."

It clicked.

Her eyes widened.

"Y-You're going to use me… like a breeding stallion?"

Melinda laughed, her deep voice filled with amusement.

"Not quite a stallion. You're human, after all."

"But close enough."

She paused, then added with a smirk,

"You'll be treated with care. You'll be protected. Fed. Rested. But in return, you'll give our tribe what it needs most."

"Daughters."

"Strong daughters. Magical daughters. Weapons in flesh and blood."

Virelle looked at Melinda—really looked—as the towering orc woman spoke of breeding and power like it was simple arithmetic.

The glint in her eyes. The subtle shift in her posture. The excitement in her voice.

It wasn't just about population growth.

It was legacy. Power. Control.

And now it made sense.

This wasn't about desire. This wasn't even about sex.

It was about bloodlines.

It was about creating the next generation of magical elites—warriors and mages birthed from the wombs of high-ranking women, crafted through one living tool.

Her.

'So this is why Futas are so highly prized...'

A living key to pure maternal inheritance. A way to bypass the unpredictable blend of male genetics. Every child was guaranteed to be a daughter. A powerful one. No genetic dilution. No risk.

It was twisted… but logical.

And now she understood why nobles and powerful merchants clamored for futas.

Why only the rich, the powerful, the connected even knew about what they could do.

Because this wasn't just about pleasure—it was about production. About creating the future.

Virelle exhaled, quietly. Her breath turned to mist in the cool air, and her mind continued racing.

In her past life, men ruled through strength, brutality, economy—systems of power.

Here? Women ruled through magic. Through legacy. Through a power that was cleaner, more elegant, but no less cruel.

This world had more than just humans—sentient creatures of varying kinds, with politics, dominance hierarchies, and silent wars she couldn't yet see.

And yet even here, in a world of magic and monsters, humans had found a way to twist it all for their benefit.

She thought back to the humans who had treated the old Virelle like filth.

The slavers. The guards. The merchants. Even her own parents, who spat the word futa like it was a disease.

Their rough hands. Their mocking laughs. The disgust in their eyes when they looked at her body.

They saw a freak. A half-thing. Something shameful to be bought and sold, hidden behind closed doors.

But now… now she knew better.

'They had no idea what she was really capable of.'

Virelle's thoughts grew sharper.

The common folk—the peasants, the street-level masses—they had no idea what futas were truly capable of. They'd been kept in the dark on purpose.

Because the more people knew, the harder it would be to monopolize that power.

'The nobles. The wealthy. They're hoarding Futas like weapons.'

A bitter smirk touched her lips.

It wasn't so different from her old world after all.

In her past life, she'd seen the same thing. Elites hoarding knowledge. Hoarding tools. Hoarding access.

Now she was just, one of those tools.

Virelle took a slow breath, her eyes lingering on Melinda's muscular back as it swayed with each powerful step forward.

'I don't know why I was thrown into a place like this… a world like this…'

Her fingers tightened around the bars of the cage.

'But I'll be damned if I end up just another forgotten slave like I was in my last life.'

Her lips curled slightly.

'I'll carve out a legacy in this world—one they'll remember long after I'm gone.'

Then her gaze dropped lower, watching the taut movement of Melinda's hips. Her toned, athletic ass rose and fell with every step, hypnotic and full of raw power.

A hunger crept up Virelle's spine.

She licked her lips.

'And if they want me to breed like a stallion...?'

Her expression darkened, her thoughts turning hot and heavy with desire.

'Then I won't mind stuffing a hundred babies into her belly—so long as she doesn't complain.'

A low, feral satisfaction bloomed in her chest. She wasn't from this world. She wasn't raised in its rules. And now that she understood her value?

She had no intention of being used.

She would use them.

Use all of them.

'If my system regenerates sexual stamina too...'

She chuckled silently, the sound low and wild inside her head.

'...then these tribal women better be ready to scream my name until they forget their gods.'

Just then, Melinda paused mid-step.

Her eyes narrowed.

Her sharp ears twitched.

A strange prickle crawled across the back of her neck.

She glanced around—left, right, trees, rooftops, shadows—but saw nothing. No threats. No enemies.

Still, the unease wouldn't leave.

She frowned... and kept walking.

Not knowing she had already carried a real beast back into her own home.