Out of sight of the Goblin captors, Ty gently guided his titcow of a friend through the labyrinthine halls. At first, he found himself needing to tug her by her limp wrist, guiding her like dumb cattle. However, the deeper they delved the more strength returned to Steph. By the time they found a safe room to hide in she was walking on her own, having swiftly batted away Ty's hand. They found themselves in an old-storage room of sorts and set about barricading the door with some old barrels. Safe for the time being, the two adventurers turned towards another. Steph massaged the upper set of her massive tits, letting loose a small stream of milk.
"Never thought I'd say this to an Elf," Steph said, breaking the silence, "but thank you, stranger."
"I'm no stranger!" Ty replied. "It's me, Ty! Remember, I was an Elf Ranger?"
Steph stared at him in a sort of mild bewilderment, giving him a chance to recap his journey to her so far. He told her every single detail: the laboratory trap, the mind-control slug, her near-rape by Eric, the growing ass, his subsequent butt-plug transformation, and finally her rescue. His Orc friend looked on his deep interest, replying ever-so-often with an inquisitive grunt. By the end, Ty looked at her expectantly, hoping to hear her story so far, but what came next was something he hadn't predicted in the slightest.
"Shut up, you Elf bimbo," she commanded. His jaw snapped shut in an instant, though it would have been on the floor had he any control of it. She walked over to his frozen figure, lifting one of her middle breasts and placing the engorged nipple to his lips. She commanded him to drink and, unable to refuse, he brought the nipple into his mouth and began to greedily suck. The milk was as sweet and thick as coffee creamer and pooled heavily in his belly.
"In this world, there are two types of creatures: free folk and thralls," Steph said, hints of pleasure cracking through her Orcish growl. "You Ty, or Sorhafe, are a thrall. You belong to me now."
Ty's stomach churned violently. Not just at the cream swelling his gut or even the betrayal of his dear friend. No, his surprise, there was a third feeling. A sense of... degradation? Humiliation? His Elven soul cried out at enslavement by what Sorhafe's people would consider a lesser being. He was an Elf, dammit. Steph should be serving him! Yet here he was, milk maid to an Orc.
His captor forced him to suck dry each of her six tits, draining them so well they had shrank by a third each. Ty's stomach, meanwhile had bloated in kind, giving his abdomen an almost pregnant look. It was painful, heavy, but most of all, disorienting; when combined with his enlarged ass, Ty was struggling to even stand upright, let alone walk or run. His Elven dexterity had be almost entirely negated.
"Hope you ain't attached to that thin figure of yourself," Steph said, jabbing him in the stomach, "these things'll be full in another six hours or so. I can't wait to see how fat you get, milking me four times a day! But that's a problem for future you. For now, I'll be using you as..."