Warcraft, of course, does not belong to me, nor Jaina Proudmoore or Garwal. Accepting commissions at alexeistrife .
"Light, protect me against this unholy fucking stench!"
Finally the closest paladin's composure broke, sparking a series of tight smiles and giggling fits across her retainer. His suffering was understandable seeing as the worst of the Undercity's reek was finally hitting the topside of the ship. Ship, because the latest step in the normalization of relations between Theramore and what remained of Undercity was a tour of the Daughter of the Sea through its newest series of canals. Rather than risk one's life avoiding the plagued perils up above, one could choose the affordable and far safer journey below. Except it reeked to high heaven and you had to convince yourself the seemingly toxic green sludge was entirely safe. Jaina still wasn't sure how the Forsaken managed to produce so much waste, and she didn't have the bravery to pose the question to their Queen.
Where her flagship struggled against the unfamiliar tides, a pair of low, dark skimmers that danced around them managed to appear beautiful even in this place. Captained by a pair of Dark Rangers whose duties included escorting them, both had waved at her simultaneously just to unnerve her. . . successfully. Like their ships, they too were beautiful, and clearly ancient. Their long, elven features only seemed sharper with the grace of Undeath. One winked at her with too much familiarity, making the sorceress blush and earning an embarrassingly loud laugh that echoed throughout the chambering canals. Now she could tell they were goblinmake. Goblins loved having their laughs echo – probably the quality they most shared with elves.
'Goblins tunneling beneath the capital,' Jaina thought with a sigh, focusing her gaze on the impossibly distant, gloomy horizon. 'Father would be in tears if he saw it.'
Negotiations with the Dark Lady of the Forsaken were always a strange affair. Few ever thought of the fact that this kingdom was a rank just above military dictatorship, with its queen rarely using the title except for when meeting with foreigners. Below the former Ranger-General were her lieutenants in life, then the more meritocratic generals, then the legions of mercenaries she commanded. She never saw a single Lord attending these conferences, only a series of officers and bureaucrats who'd been raised from the dead to serve the needs of Sylvanas' always-at-war state. Jaina never cared for all the pretense and spectacle, but if there was one place that needed it, it was the Undercity.
'Take the Queen and the Rangers away and there'd be nothing left to appreciate about it.'
Indeed. Sylvanas was always one of the only things she looked forward to when she came to the city, and it wasn't entirely for the way she managed to look horrifyingly sexy sitting in a chair. At some point, days into another conference like this one, they'd started having sex. Theramore's Queen thought they were both going to leave it alone after just the one night, one unforgettable fuck between two women whose lives had been ruined by a psychopath with a sentient sword.
Except Sylvanas was back the next night, lounging on Jaina's bed, lazily flipping through one of her books and pretending to understand what the pages were saying before regarding her with cool, red eyes.
"Strip," she'd said. And, oh. She did. Years later, Jaina had been permitted an ever so slightly warmer gaze, even a smile on occasion. They weren't exactly dating, but it was something close, and each meeting between them left the sorceress with a skip in her heart she hadn't felt in many years, and she hoped Sylvanas felt. . . whatever she was still capable of.
It was too bad both of the people that made her feel this way were so far away from her.
Maybe she'd fibbed a little.
There were three things to admire in the remains of Lordaeron's city, actually. The third being Garwal, the shadowy Worgen who lingered in Sylvanas' shadow, her hulking and magnificent bodyguard. Jaina had seen many Worgen by now - being one of the few neutral cities left in the world meant more refugees than they knew what to do with - but never one with quite as unique as Garwal. First, he was serving the Forsaken. That was strange enough, but it led to an even more quaint feature of his; his fur, clearly once having been brown, was now streaked with white. Like his fur had been shocked into albinoness. Not an uncommon feature of the possessed. Garwal's spirit was being shared at the moment, allegedly a consequence of a botched attempt on Sylvanas' life, and now being repaid with service to the woman he'd tried to have killed.
Service being a very generous word. Because, at the moment, the wolf was looking decidedly human and standing awkwardly in the center of her room. He, unlike Sylvanas, didn't have the skills to pass himself off as owning each of the rooms he stood in, and rather than make himself comfortable on one of her pieces of furniture, had decided instead to stand in place and simply stare at the door until she walked in.
It made him look especially puppyish once his eyes warmed, but Jaina knew better than to say anything since she probably had the exact same look. With any luck she even managed to not look like a needy tart once he came into view. The last time Garwal and her had shared a room together, it'd ended spectacularly, with the scars on the sorceress' bum to prove it, left unhealed as a souvenir. There hadn't been a repeat of that first performance, and Jaina could see why. He'd entered her room with utmost confidence the first time, lumbering with arousal and bravery, drunk on elven pussy, but now he looked the part of a typically excited, handsome young man.
"Your Majesty," he greets, like it was the most normal thing in the world to be inside a royal's hidden quarters before she'd even arrived. Rather than act the part of an offended aristocrat, she smiles, curtsying after resting her staff on a nearby table, making a show of peeling her gloves off as she avoids looking at him, taking only glances through her rolling blonde curls.
"Garwal," she returns. "What brings you to my room this night?"
'I want to fuck you.' Garwal considers saying in response, but holds it back. Blunt as his people may have been, there was still some civility left in his blood. Somewhere. He'd been eager to fuck the queen for months actually, but when he wasn't writing reports to the Alliance he was writing fake reports to the other Horde leaders or protecting his queen or fucking her. His mistress was always in need of his attention, and that left little time in his day-to-day for the blonde and him to have any time together.
And Light did he wish they did.
Now that he'd finally acclimated himself to the Undercity's many aromas, Proudmoore's scent stood out like a lighthouse. Not only was she a powerful caster capable of tearing an armada to pieces, but she was the second most tantalizing woman he'd ever seen. A head and a half shorter than him as a human, her blue-on-blue dress looked like it was made exclusively to show off her best assets. Her customarily flat tummy was out on display as always, but she'd clearly grown comfortable enough to make a show of her breasts now as well, and the series of curves that would've made for wonderful handlebars if they weren't tucked beneath the form-fitting corset she wore. Even the long and elaborate tail she'd weaved her hair into managed to rouse his other, wolven half; every step she took made it bounce, begging for the stability of a hand to take it and holding it in place for her.
Garwal blinked, realizing he'd done nearly a full ten seconds of staring. Jaina was standing there, arms akimbo, legs outstretched and looking like one of the posters you'd see for a magician's show.
". . . I want to fuck you?"
Jaina hangs her head, hair tumbling over her head as she snorts in disbelief. Was he asking her if that's why he was here? The way he'd said it had made it sound like she was stupid for even asking, and she probably was seeing how her eyes, now pointedly downward, could see the rising tent in his pants.
"I can see that," she says, her smile turning cheshire. "And. . . you'd like to do it as a human this time?"
"For now." Garwal responds. Fucking was different when transformed. More intense and carnal. It was nice, but sometimes he preferred the sight and sensation of his old cock. He liked looking down and seeing his hands filled with a woman's body, not a wolf's.
Obviously his host didn't care much either way with the way she was looking at him. As a human, she managed to make him feel nervous, as if he hadn't already broken her mind once by pummeling her ass into submission. Clearly she hadn't forgotten the experience, but looked none the less confident and gathered as she approached him, both of them perfectly aware that she could destroy him with one whisper. Thankfully, she didn't.
She really just wanted his cock.
With her ungloved hands sliding down his shoulders, the blonde-tresseled woman began her royal descent onto her knees, 'Where she belongs,' a thought rumbled inside him, drawing a growl of agreement which made the woman's brow rise, but she didn't say anything. Face now parallel with his groin, he was left to admire the generous cleavage on display, the pale slopes of her breasts as mountainous as Alterac but far less difficult to mount.
Just like before, a quick snap of her fingers had her overly elaborate dressing disappear – with the added addition of his own. Now he was able to appreciate every part of the cream-skinned woman, including the meaty ass that was too often hidden beneath her cape.
"How's your practice coming along with that spell?" She asked, gripping his cock and raising it up to her lips, giving it a soft, loving kiss that made her eyes flutter and his brain short circuit.
"It's. . . coming along. Don't stop."
"Bossy!" She laughs, but, releasing him and throwing her hair over both sides of her shoulders - he realizes, to give him a better view - she winks up at him, before turning her full attention to his engorged, gifted cock. Her lips are small compared to the monster she's set out to conquer, but she looks all the more confident for it, ocean blue eyes eying him like one of her tests from Dalaran, something to be studied and perfected. If it meant getting to see more of him, she'd put to memory each and every inch of his cock.
Garwal tried not to blink as the tip of his cock passed the magic-user's soft lips.
Jaina made a concerted effort to keep her eyes open with each passing inch of his cock into her mouth. Careful to capture Garwal's eyes with her upraised, gleeful stare, she rested her hands on his hips, making sure he didn't get too excited and shove the entire pound of dick down her throat. Arousing as that thought was, she wanted to be the one in control this time, maybe even prove to the usually in-control man that she could be more than just a series of holes for him to plow himself into.
She was that too, but their time together could be a little bit more than just that.
Not now, of course. Her lips were already halfway down the length of him and she had to take a moment for a break, breathing slowly, letting her taste buds refamiliarize themselves with the weight of his cock. The earthy tang of it was as great a shock to her senses as the first time, masculine and heavy and, nearly, overwhelming. Even now she could feel the taste of his precum as it dripped onto her tongue and dripped down into her throat, making her toes curl up as her heels wedged into her pillowy ass. It wouldn't be long from now before a much heavier load of the same fluid filled her womb to brim.
Garwal's excitement for using the blonde 'maiden' for just that was just as great as her own, but he was momentarily distracted by the fervent sucking on his prick. Jaina hadn't realized it, but her lips had formed a tight seal around him, her thin, red lips used to muttering spells and delicate cuttery for meals weren't used to such an intrusion, and her tongue had already begun to lap at him. Wet and eager, it slid back and forth on his underside, coaxing him like she was scratching him beneath the chin, sometimes allowing only the very tip of her tongue to roll back and forth on his length, but other times flattening and guiding itself across the half-length that had made its way inside her heavenly, agreeable mouth.
Or Hellish. The Worgen was somewhere between the two, Jaina's idle, aroused pondering leaving him depressingly short of being balls-deep in her throat like he desired, but still enjoying the attention her lips were paying to his tip, sucking noisily on it with the professional courtesy of a talented whore. Sylvanas had sucked his cock more times than he could count, but her blowjobs always had an air of domineering threat to them that, as much as it may have turned him on, left a cold distance between them. Jaina's was reverent. As if she could spend her entire life on her knees, occasionally lifting his balls up to her mouth to run the tip of her tongue over them whilst the topside of her tongue slid across the bottom of his cock.
He'd let her, too. Just the sight of her golden blonde hair jostling and shifting as her idyllic blue eyes took in his cock like any one of her books was more than enough to keep him happy for the rest of his lifespan. Thankfully, he could still do one better.
A heavy hand rested itself on the back of the sorceress' head, bringing her eyes back up to the man above her, taking her out of her cock hungry worship.
Wordlessly, with a breath for control that for some Light forsaken made her slit drip, he added another hand, and pressed down on her head, slowly forcing the rest of his cock into her mouth and into her throat.
Fingers digging into her scalp and strangling her locks of hair as the pressure on his cock built, he let out a string of curses as she continued to endlessly suck on each inch of meat pressed into her mouth, waving her tongue across it as he force fed her his dick, smiling down at her and admiring the sheer tenacity of her to keep up her end of participation. He was stunned.
Her lips were now wrapped around his base, hands braced against his sturdy thighs and painted nails clawing him as if to find a grip. Still staring him down as her tongue lathered his hanging sack, toying with each delectable orb.
One. . .
Two. . .
Three. . .
Four. . .
Five. . .?
How the hell was she still breathing?
Jaina, for her part, was distantly aware that whatever lipstick she'd applied had run afoul long ago, most of it now lathered on the base of his prick as she kissed it, offering him a smile even as his massive, built-to-break-women cock bulged in her throat, not even so much as sputtering as he patted the back of her head, looking especially stupid as he searched for an explanation in her eyes.
In lieu of an answer, she spun one of her fingers in the air, a tail of arcane magic following the index finger.
He moaned as his eyes rolled at the realization.
"Water breathing. Of course," he managed to sputter out, huffing as a renewed series of sucks and rolls of her tongue ran across his cock. His balls were churning, aching for a release he was trying to deny them, fisting her hair as he tried to put to memory the sight of the Queen languidly, happily planting her mouth at the bottom of his cock, wedging his tip down her throat as she happily involuntarily swallowed his cum straight into her gullet and stomach. With her tits pressed against his legs, he could feel the hardness of her nipples, and it was the last bit of sensation he needed.
Legendarily blue eyes widening, she pulled away, only for the steel grip in his hair to keep her steady as he unloaded a steady, hefty load down her throat, coating it white along with the rest of her stomach as months of pent-up, Worgen cum meant to leave behind a litter of pups inside a mate instead creampied the royal throat. Toes crunching hard, she managed to let out a quick, quiet yelp as the nine inches of cock she'd been worshiping was dragged out of her throat and, instead, replaced by the presentation of just the tip.
Oh. He had cum on her face the first time, hadn't he?
Clearly fond of doing just that, she barely managed to close her eyes before the second torrent struck her in the face, the lipstick-stained tip only halfway done before it released an outstanding amount of cum across her pretty features, ruining what was left of her makeup and claiming her face for the Worgen.
"Fuuuuck, I needed that," Garwal mumbled tiredly, every ounce of tension he'd built up these last few months having worked themselves out both into and onto the admiral. Even better, when he looked down, he was met with the once-in-a-lifetime sight of Her Majesty breathing hard, his cock still connected to her lips by saliva and cum as everything that hadn't managed to spill down her throat either stuck itself to her face or was making the slow descent downward to rest on her tits fall between the valley between them.
Sucking in breaths for air, she hiccuped, unconsciously rolling her tongue across her mouth and collecting whatever she could, savoring the taste before swallowing it and adding to the load still toiling in her stomach.
'Light, I needed it too,' she realized, even as her head ached from the sudden pull on her hair, now turning into a fond patting as he eased her hair back into place in a slightly condescending way that still turned her on. Blinking, her cock appeared back into sight, still occasionally leaking cum she wouldn't dare waste.
Garwal watched as the sorceress lifted her breasts and pressed cock between them, hissing as the two mountains of flesh were pressed on either side by her hands, pressurizing his cock as her tongue dragged itself across the tip of his cock, draining him dry at last before she caught in her nubile hands, licking it clean from base to tip and leaving it with a final, thankful kiss.
Admiring her work, she realized that she'd successfully cleaned his amazing cock top to bottom, but had left him hard as a rock again – how much cum did her wolven friend have?
Evidently, just as much as he had stamina left, since the moment she sat back on her haunches he was pulling her up, turning her around to face the wall, breasts cushioning and flattening against and letting Garwal see the pillowing of them from the side. His hands instantly came to rest on her breasts, squeezing them hard and filling his soldierly, large hands full of her malleable, soft skin. He let out a single, final growl as her arousal lifted up to his nose, dripping on her legs, on his floor - and on his cock as she ground the length of his prick against her heat, reminding her all to well of the first time they'd fucked. The fact that he'd remembered just how it happened had her stomach twist like an idiotic teenager – and moan as his hands squeezed her sensitive, tender flesh, made large enough just to fit in his hands.
His tip pressed against her slit, and she yelled over her moans, "Wait!"
Garwal paused, fingers twisting her pink, hardened nips as he leaned over, allowing himself one single, harsh bite on her neck that made her whine as his sharpened canines nipped her creamy skin.
"Why?"
"I. . ." Why did she ask him to stop, again? Oh. Right. "I want to ride you. Please. Light. Please."
She can feel the bastard smirking as he pretends to think on it. Of course, his cock doesn't stop, it continues to lackadaisically slide itself across her weeping cunt, making her rock on her heels for some desperate attention, betraying what words were coming from her mouth.
His answer comes in the form of an intense, heavy smack on her ass that has her leap onto her toes, yelping as her ass ripples even as he steps away, admiring the sight of the queen still covered in his cum on one side, standing on her toes, her ass suddenly a new rich shade of red.
"Fine," he answers, all his earlier uncertainty forgotten, and sounding annoyed at the 'favor' she'd asked with renewed arrogance.
Taking some breaths to regain her sanity and force down the orgasm she'd nearly experience from just that one swat on her ass, she turns, finding him already on -her- bed, cock erect and waiting for her, her wetness still staining him as he idly appreciated the sight of her standing there, still covered in his not-quite facial. Standing tall, she sways closer to him, putting on a weak show of swaying her hips that nonetheless seems to please him. By the time she's on the bed hovering over him, his hands, evidently agreeing with the rest of him, plant themselves on her hips, fingertips digging into her ass where she wanted his palms, the tip of his cock kissing her slit and her breasts hanging over his face.
Balancing herself on her knees, she tilts her head back, murmuring a thanks to the Light for rewarding her patience – and then, bored with her stalling, his hands force her down, drawing a guttural, animal-noise from the sorceress straight from her heart as her cunt and womb become a resting place once again for the full length of his cock, opening her wide in a way only he was capable of and pressing against her underfucked cervix.
"Gods. . . " She moans, drawing a noise of agreement from the man beneath her, both of his hands moving themselves to her ass and adding a second handprint to her already red ass, encouraging her like a horse. And she listened.
Bracing her manicured hands on his chest, she began to ride him.
Drawing her silky cunt up to his tip, she bounce her ass back down on his steady thighs, feeling her thighs and ass shake against his unmovable body and adding another pleased noise into the air as he pressed her open. By the third time, she began building a steady rhythm, capable of sliding herself directly into the fourth, and then the fifth, and finally properly began to bounce on his cock, the queen's body now becoming nothing more than a perfect place for the Worgen to rest his cock into, allowing him to sit back and enjoy the sight of a royal dancing her body up and down his cock, hissing with each perfect slide of her slit across his prick.
Occasionally her panting would be interrupted by a sudden crack of his powerful hand against her ass and her immediate yelp as she grew faster, receiving another smack once she grew too slow for his liking; his chest was a series of claw marks and scratches as her fingers dragged against him, amazing herself at just how deeply her wolven friend's cock managed to stress her.
Before she can think it, she says it.
"Breed me," she asks and half-commands, blushing at her own words, making the man beneath her laugh as his fingers grip her tender ass cheeks, dragging her down onto his cock and pressing his swollen balls against her.
"Earn it, bitch."
Earn it?!
Another smack on her ass makes her scowl, and, tightening her grip on his shoulders and throwing her hair back over her head, she began to properly fuck herself on the would-be cock of her future half-children.
Breasts bouncing in tandem with each sway of her hips onto the base of his cock, she began a perfect dance, almost like the ones she'd been taught back when she was a simple princess, the cum that had stained her tits bouncing off as her orgasm began to build, her hungry pussy clamping down on him and yearning for his cum to spill into her and finally put her royal womb to use.
"Breed me," she repeats, mind growing foggier with each penetration into her body, "Breed me, breed me," she says, again and again, body growing taut as Garwal's body began to hump itself off the bed, eager to plant itself into the sorceress, refusing to let himself cum before she did, as a hallmark of pride and honor.
He wins.
With a combined howl and groan from the two of them, she cums. Hard. Falling onto him, breasts pressed against his chest and one of his hands pulling her in tight, her pussy hugs his cock as hard as it can, milking him as he allows himself to finally creampie the woman above him, shoving his cock in as deep as he can and unloading the entire load of cum that had built itself inside him straight into her womb. Jaina counted each second of it, breathing hard as he hugged her close, letting out a loud and embarrassingly happy purr as he continued to use her as a willing, happy dumpster for his cum, his fingers digging in hard and keeping her still until he'd finished – nearly thirty seconds later.
A willing, highly breedable one whose future children might rule Theramore one day.