Chapter 4 - By Nature's Grace

Tall, nearly monumental heels brought her up the ramp; vividly white alike the moon and equally eye-catching, they ensured every step was but a show. Naturally, all art had its price. She climbed with a little ragged breath, such footwear by no means was meant to get you anywhere else but on your knees but yet she persevered - thousands of years of experience wouldn’t fall to some impractical adornment. Although it doubtlessly was a little tiring, eternity or not. 

These boots, so specifically prepared platform heels made for no other occasion than this, brought her forth and beneath the proud banners of the Kaldorei race, right onto the edge of the gate where her soldiers already awaited. The fellow sisters in act stood well prepared for the conflict ahead; their leader had long since arranged everything to ensure that everything would go smoothly. 

The ancients and the treants were put to sleep as their ageless strength and wisdom would be of no use. The main bulk of dryad enchantresses was sent away to moonglade, only the sisters with the finest skills and gifts were permitted to remain; their ripe gifts adorning the defenses, covered with vines or outright bare, allowed to hang down alike properly grown giants. 

The welcome needed was well planned out and had to be just as well executed - the vanguard was hand picked one by one, the Sentinels were nothing less than a flawlessly prepared and fitting battalion of war-sisters. These battle maidens didn't bear particularly much on themselves, even for the standards of their race; purple and pink skin shone proudly with the glory of Kaldorei beauty. 

Chimeras, hippogryphs and sabercats were long retrained for different purposes and naturally so, High Priestess ensured that all Alliance personnel were evacuated.  Such an important meeting had rules and she gladly followed no less.

An iconic, white dress was what she chose, with a cleavage going deep alike a dagger in one's back; rather loose everywhere but at her very bust where it almost bulged into the plump, blessed cushions. Obviously so, it was finely sewn with a dozen revisions over its creations, ensuring that her areolas would slip out halfway out. Shaded as the clouds and as easily removable as the freedom of the night elves. 

Their, admittedly, naive and lost race fought their own happiness for so many years, now finally ready to accept how things were meant to be. To discard ways of the old for something so much greater - the right place on Azeroth.

It was almost poetic. 

And she could soon see the Horde approach, these glorious red banners and that massive, disorganized, brutish lot of soldiers. Without formation, with weapons sloppily held in their hands and on their shoulders, slowly appearing on the horizon. Just carelessly approaching the gates, walking as if into their own home. 

"High Priestess!" A voice reached her from behind as an elder huntress rode in and halted next to her, all to drop from her panther with flawless grace. A quiet thud was all that heralded her meeting with the floor and she took her steps as if she stood from but a chair. "What are we doing? Why are the glaive throwers not firing?" Her confused but raspy tone reached these long, elven ears, chipping away some of High Priestess' happiness. Nonetheless, soon she turned back to captain Leafrunner. 

"Have the Alliance ambassadors been evacuated?" She asked calmly, looking at her subject with a little patronizing eyes. "I assume there will be no interruptions from their guard or the very envoys themselves?" Most at least, the female half was put on a different ship for a reason. 

"Yes, my lady." Leafrunner reported briefly. "We've ensured their safety and they are already out at sea, with some luck they will sneak by the north." They wouldn't but it wasn't something Tyrande cared about right now. "Are you not planning to participate in the battle?" The captain's voice continued to be confused as she clearly understood not why her priestess wore herself as if for a party of dubious reputation. 

"I do." Whisperwind declared a little keenly - she sent Leafrunner to take care of the evacuation for a good reason. The elder huntress hasn't been yet shown just how good it is if you don't fight your masters and as such, was the perfect someone to keep up appearances. Nothing stopped her from learning things however, now that the problems were dealt with. "You'll learn soon, Huntress." She added with a promise.

Yet, not an arrow fell upon the encroaching greenskins, not a glaive was thrown and no formation was taken by either of sides. The captain stared in raw confusion but did not say another word - it could have been a diplomatic meeting before the very start of the battle but that would include just envoys and commanders, instead she saw a whole host of orcs approaching freely.

Somewhat reassuringly, two of her sisters soon stood behind her, serving as guards of sorts, although bearing expressions their superior could not see or otherwise even more worries would appear. As their purple, front-leading busts wiggled on both sides of Leafrunner, the Horde eventually got even closer and the scent of their soldiers hit the elves before they got truly close. 

A smile bestowed itself upon the High Priestess of the Moon and her bust rose, pulled up by a heavy breath. As a most familiar orcish warmaiden approached, elven nipples broke through the fabric, faintly showing off the accordingly shaped piercings. 

"Priestess." Korla Shattersout greeted the elf calmly and halted alongside her men, right in front of the elven host. Her eyes fell upon the great bust of the priestess, eyeing how it formed nothing less of a great monument itself; wide, heavy, hanging. Purple as beauty itself and so finely contrasting with the white of the dress. "It's good to meet the Elune's chosen at last."

As Korla continued, Tyrande kept a certain content spark in her moonlit eyes.  "I hope you and your soldiers are well equipped for this occasion." Two soldiers approached their leader, allowing the night elf to see that the invaders were very well equipped.

"Naturally." Tyrande pushed her front out with pride, presenting it to the orcish grunts in all of its oversized and yet fitting glory. "Darnassus' finest weapons, as the Goddess wills it." Her smile grew even keener as she swung them to the sides, making that whole wonder of beauty-flesh wave to the sides. Slowly and gracefully. "Tested in battle a thousand times."

Leafrunner stared at it all with raw confusion on her, somehow even accepting the green horde right by their city at that point. With some kind of disgust she lowered her eyes onto these loins of the brutes as there was no way to not notice just how too small these armors were; the leather was bending outwards, stood stretched, pushing the tawny hide from the green skin and making gaps to look into the gruntish crotches for anyone who stood close enough.

She knew the Horde was but a bunch of oversized, mannerless animals but that was something entirely else - not to speak of the stench. It hung in the air and clinged to her, she almost could feel her sweat thicken. There was no good reason to be so friendly with these beasts as well and yet Lady Tyrande seemed awfully content.

She wanted to say something but it was then when Korla scoffed. "I'll see that myself." Warmaiden's hands fell upon the white fabric of the dress, right around the edges of the cleavage and deep enough to  A little too shocked to act, Leafrunner watched as the orc pulled the dress to the sides. 

Moon-blessed breasts spilled out with a mighty bounce; a proper, elven monument of tits jiggled for the greenskins and with a size demanding proper use. Purple and no less than like cushions, they shone before everyone, unfit for any other hand than those of the orcs or perhaps tauren. Wide areolas invited everyone to watch and these pink nipples invited to encouraged a taste; the round, massive piercings looked as if made to be chained to a post.

A natural, fitting tribute to those better than you.

Second passed, then another and Leafrunner came to her senses, the shock faded off and raw realization arrived. The very image of their race was shamelessly undressed, exposed as if she was no more than orcish property. "Priestess!" The glaive was grasped, detached from the waist as a murderous cry filled the air; wrath of a huntress nearly unleashed as she almost dashed forth. 

Almost as her very subordinates restrained her immediately. A kick to the back of her knee sent her kneeling, making sure she would not disturb diplomacy. "What in Elune's name are you doing!?"

The elf screamed in anger but no one seemed to care, not Korla who grabbed one of these pillows from below, doing so with an open palm and allowing it to spill across her hand, all so she could then bounce the entire udder back and down like a sack of coins, alike valuable, puffy cushion, - although attached to a far less valuable person.

It was then that Shattersout whistled loudly, giving a nonchalant order and having the rest of the orcs just move forth into the elven capital as if it was just another property of the Horde. After all the city stood open, ready and most of all, welcoming. Much like the many soldiers who barely could wait to fight and then, naturally, lose happily.

"I presume you are ready to serve a higher cause? To make sure these wombs, busts, holes, that everything will find their rightful owners?" Korla asked contently, switching to these queen-sized nipples and spreading apart the whole bust as such; all of it seemingly having no effect of the grace of the Elune's chosen, who seemed more than used. 

"They will finally be where they always belonged. In the hands of the mighty Horde." Voice of the High Priestess remained calm, as if it was but a thousandth time someone played with her elven udders. "I have prepared all necessary documents in my chambers, soon the Kaldorei race will become a property of the Horde. As it was always meant to be."

"Very good." Korla declared merrily, letting go of these purple pillows and allowing them to bounce back into positions. "I'm glad for your cooperation, Priestess. It's good to finally be in Darnassus…" She spoke while wiping sweat off her forehead. "... it will be good to get some refreshment. Your highborne cousins decided to make us portals on the other side of the tree for some reason, so me and my men have been waiting in this heat all day." 

"I'm afraid it was necessary, weeding out the rest of Alliance puppets took time " Tyrande purred out contently.

"As for your subordinate right there." The warmaiden turned her eyes onto the struggling, fighting Leafrunner. "It doesn't seem like she has been given proper love yet."

"One of the stragglers." Tyrande declared calmly, turning back to the huntress as well and seeing how she angrily tried to escape from the bounds of her own fellow sisters. It was a fine resistance she gave but there was only so much you could do alone against two who would do anything to get their own rewards.

Korla gave a keen eye towards some of her own guards and nodded gently towards the elf. "I see. But then, Horde is a welcoming family, Priestess..." Orcish words continued as the few grunts made their way towards the hissing, almost growling captain who gave them less than loving eyes. "...we don't really leave stragglers."

Some kind of raw dismay formed itself on Leafrunner's face as she was surrounded by these green giants. Disgust soon followed itself on her face as the heavy, male stench hit her nostrils and caused them to flare. "Unwashed filth." She spat out through clenched teeth, seeing as those loins got closer to her face. 

"As such I do suppose we have time before you officially declare Darnassus as the property of the Horde." Korla's voice turned merry as she saw a spark of fear on the straggler's face and did so around the same time a grunt neared the elven High Priestess. "It's important to take care of your people and your friends alike." She smiled herself and moved towards the Huntress.

A little busy with an orcish tongue shoved into her mouth, Lady Whisperwind took a while to even respond with a nod. It was a difficult task obviously, especially as her breasts were spilling to the sides from the force she was embraced with; queenly and purple alike proper lavender, they were coveted by many members of the Horde. The as many rumors of Tyrande's renowned skill likely didn't lessen that anyhow. 

Pressed into the newly arrived orc, Lady Whisperwind kept the kiss for a longer while and remained behind for the time being; heavy hands raw-spreading her cheeks under the robe likely added to the decision. 

As such Korla approached by herself, soon moving between her men and facing the restrained Leafrunner. Leafrunner who growled and nearly broke free from her sisters' grasp alike an angry sabercat, forcing them to move and to send their busts into wild wiggles. "I do not know what you have done to my Lady and my sisters but once I find out…" She didn't finish as the sound of Whisperwind's wild kissing reached her.

"Oh I tremble to think of that, elf." Korla scoffed and knelt on one knee before the elf, looking into these fiery eyes of resistance. "Or do I? Because you know, it's not so far away that you find out." Her white teeth soon shone brightly in a smile as her hands spread, falling upon the stretched loins of her soldiers. It was that which made that strained face turn a little less fired up.

"So what do you say?" Warmaiden asked with honest curiosity, staring at the heat-blushed huntress. Leafrunner merely glared at her with anger for a while but did not answer - not that it changed anything. "Shame." Shattersout added with almost properly faked disappointment. "Guess we'll need to make the decision for you." And so she did by pulling down the loin-armors, helped gently by one of the elven sisters. 

All to the dismay of Leafrunner.

Three monstrous, green cocks were whipped out just like that at the very gates of Darnassus; all so they could bounce upwards and then, teachingly, fall onto that confused, lovely face. Wet smack after a wet smack. First fully obstructed her forehead and these shining eyes, second fell upon her nose and the chin, third was just an addition to thicken the stench of orcish cock. She became no more than a shelf for these cocks and the Goddess knew the huntress would be thankful in time. 

For now one could only, and almost, see the fog around it all, the warmth that radiated from their loins and trapped her hidden face in nothing less than the heat of hot springs; all of it under these satisfied eyes of two huntresses who couldn't wait to exchange their spot with the captain. Yet, they only could help and watch as their superior slowly cooked in that dick-heat. It was of no great concern to them in the end, they would receive their own prize in time. All elves would. 

"We make sure to take good care of our friends." Korla's hands fell onto these heavy shafts and stroked them, seeing as the elf was silenced better than with any spell - no growling, no hissing, no insults. "Your priestess is very much aware of it. So does your General." Even now Shandris was likely on some ship, on her way to Orgrimmar auction house while easing up the hardworking sailors on the way.

A fate that would befall all of Alliance maidens that yet held any value and were yet unclaimed. Some of the most prominent figures such as Lady Whisperwind, General Feathermoon or even Warden Shadowsong couldn't be claimed and would have to be bought fair and square but that was a whole different topic.

Leafrunner held nowhere as much value, she might have been an elder huntress but it wasn't as if every member of the Horde heard of her or her qualities. Which, compared to her leaders or even fellow sisters, weren’t that impressive. Rather averagely sized they wouldn't swallow even a half of an orcish cock, not to speak of the tauren. Still, likely it was she would be a fine companion to whoever liked these purple shapes, athletic bodies and dark lips.

Lips that weren't to be seen for as a matter of a fact, little there was to be seen of the captain's face as it was sufficiently buried beneath orcish cocks. Its owner was somehow trying to fight the stench of green dickmeat, the aroma that slowly seeped into her face as it sweated from the heat. 

It filled her lungs and seemingly took to the blood from there, soon reaching the very mind and slowly filling it with something she couldn't name. Something that seemed to always be there, waiting for this moment to awaken. This smell was almost familiar, traversing her memories to reach moments of pleasure and to let her find out just how much better they would be if it was present.

As she melted and so did her resistance, Korla looked back at the kiss-locked, spit-gathering High Priestess of the Kaldorei. Happily letting one of the grunts inside her mouth, she was but another body between the many others.

Darnassian soldiers happily formed rows of open mouths, kneeling on the floor and blowing these orcish warriors one after another, one next to another. Some merely sat with maws open wide, waiting for the hardworking grunts to give them a meal, others were employing tight teamwork to ensure the biggest tools would be not only spotless but well served.

Soon the orc raised from her squat and these wide, muscled thighs stood straight once more. "High Priestess." Korla's voice resounded and it was yet a few more seconds before Tyrande separated from her newly met partner, just to wipe her chin from saliva and turn that messy face to the warmaiden. "Yes?" She asked with a little panting but otherwise, an almost oblivious voice.

"There will be time for pleasure later." Shattersout declared with a little amused, although demanding voice. "Your subordinate needs your help right now. So do my men, so get that cocksucking mouth of yours here and show her how it's done." She then raised her eyes onto the soldier who stood beside the elven queen-fuckmeat and nodded at him to get closer as well.

"Elune agrees." Tyrande agreed and then simply approached, nearing the dick-buried Leafrunner and moving a few strands of this lushy hair off her face. Soon she lowered herself with the grace of thousands of years, moving so gently but to do nothing else than squat before the huntress in all of her ancient glory. "These cocks are in need of our help."

These wide, purple thighs opened widely, did so to reveal these purple, plump thighs; muscled as fit for a war-seasoned Priestess of the Moon and yet covered with a delicate layer of fat fit for nothing less than a queen. Moon-blessed, sacred buttocks shone through the dress, their shape breaking through the fabric and catching some in that crack.

"By Elune's will, these cocks will be cleaned." She declared with that preaching, priestessly and yet royal voice; reaching to raise these olive monsters off Leafrunner's face and grabbing them by thick, green shafts she couldn’t even fully grasp. "To me, soldiers of the mighty Horde. Let me ease you."

Soon was the captain’s face partially uncovered, revealing her flushed cheeks, these clenched teeth and that flared nose, one which had to inhale so much of this wonderful, dick-thick aroma. A drop of sweat ran down her chin as one dick still lied right on top of her closed eyes, left there for a moment more as Tyrande first needed to properly greet these green, mighty cocks she already picked up. Gentle kisses were given, all as the other elf shivered. 

Licking that precum off these tips, the High Priestess could only imagine what marvels took place inside her subject’s mind. She knew well that these were the glorious moments, the time during which one tried to fight the natural connections their mind made with these monstrous, unwashed, orcish dicks. The sensation of it being but nature, the thrill of the size, the raw reflex to clean them up upon the first sight. The understanding that, after all, it didn't feel wrong.

Tyrande knew just how exciting it was, realizing you were made to worship these beasts. Done with greeting two wolfriders, she eventually extended her hands once move, grabbing the two remaining tools; one which yet covered Leafrunner's face and the other which belonged to the orc she was kissing with a while ago.

Nonchalantly the orcs moved around her to not only leave a window for the huntress to see but also to ensure all of their cocks ended just before Lady Whisperwind’s delicate face. Soon the captain could open these quivering, moonlit eyes and see her ruler - the chosen of Elune, the High Priestess of the Moon facing off with not one, not two, not even three but four monstrous, orcish cocks. 

“Watch closely, my sister.” That strong, nearly queenly voice reached Leafrunner as Tyrande looked at these fat tips. "There will be no better time than this to see what your duties are. It is imperative that you know how to suck these cocks." She kissed the remaining two tools and then wrapped her lips around the glans; somehow shoving these wide tips into her mouth and then sucking them clean.

Smooching, sucking, licking with those delighted sounds and such a satisfied face, the Huntress could witness it all while uneasy disgust painted itself on her face. Those happy, moonlit eyes of her leader and pride with which she blew these orcish grunts, it all melted something inside her but she just couldn't name what. 

"This is the beginning, sister." Lady Whisperwind declared and then stroked the cocks fervently, making sure every will be properly worked. "Your real prize lies at the end." Holy, puffy lips spread widely as she took in a tip once more, widening her jaws but not stopping here this time. With the skill of countless hours of practice, she slid forth across the green meat and gobbled up a whole orcish dick. Just like that.

With Leafrunner's eyes widening in disbelief, Tyrande let out plenty of sounds; gurgling, slurping, almost theatrically loud, content moaning and sucking. This orcish cock was thoroughly and dutifully washed clean, all while precum dripped from the rest of waiting, mighty, green cocks. With similar ease did the High Priestess then pull herself back, dragging her lips across that meat and wiping it clean; leaving not a drop of precum, sweat or saliva.

Naturally, it was but the beginning.

One after another she then carefully cleaned those march-worn cocks, slipped her tongue into every nook and ensured that every bit of skin would be scrubbed clean by her tongue. With unmatched skill and expertise she took them all in and whole, swallowing lengths and widths of green meat that seemed impossible. With skill and experience available only to the eldest races, she slurped these dicks clean. 

Leafrunner could only watch in disgust; pure, raw, confused disgust that was partially out there to camouflage her slight arousal, the weak yet present fight against the feeling in her mind - the urge to try and know how it feels. Any other person could have been fooled but not the High Priestess - she knew the affinity of her own race, the need for these things. An undeniable, raw need. 

Yet the huntress wouldn't get to do anything herself as her lady was as swift as one expected from an expert; in no time she blew these cocks spotlessly and only the heavy waving of her udders was a testament to her speed. Soon all four dicks were as if made a new, fresh and immaculate.

But Tyrande did not swallow. 

"There, captain." She merely declared, catching her subject's attention, all so these holy, moon-blessed maws could open and show a pool of saliva; the same saliva she used to wash three of these sweaty, green, filthy dicks. "It is the best from around the base." How she spoke clearly with all of that, this would remain a mystery of skill.

Eyes of the other elf widened wildly as she saw her leader lean closer, she groaned in disagreement and tried to face away. All to be held by her own very soldiers, to be forced to look as the High Priestess approached. A few seconds of futile struggle followed before Lady Whisperwind pressed her puffy, cock-scented lips against those of the huntress. 

Against her own will, her own kisser spread accordingly and soon she could just wiggle as the saliva was exchanged; as her tongue tasted that taste of real men. Of a real orcish might that they rejected for so many years and of the natural compatibility they had. Her eyes rolled up as the salty, fleshy flavour stung her senses and as Tyrande's own tongue kept spreading it around, adding to the madness of it all. 

Korla's lips bent into a smile as she watched with folded arms, observed the most vulgar of kisses between a proper elven cock-addict and a soldier who tried to hold on.

For a moment the kiss was broken, all so strings of precum-mixed saliva formed between them. "Can you taste it, Captain?" High Priestess sucked in this spit, to then briefly wash a cockhead of another dick presented to her. "Tastes finest around the loins." Not that it was something Leafrunner could understand without proper training but it was no issue, they had time. And a lot of cocks to practice on. 

Like a hungry sabercat, she soon returned to the kiss, playing inside the mouth of the Huntress while her subordinate merely struggled with the reality. Permeated in flesh by the stench of raw dick, her mind filling it with something she couldn't name; with her nipples hard iron beneath her armor and nearly breaking through the leather armor.

And she couldn't even deny the taste.

She couldn't even lie to herself, despite everything she wanted to feel, it was luscious. Appetizing. Good enough to wonder if it truly was wrong to just go alongside it all. Leafrunner slowly understood why things were like they were. She swallowed, sending more of these juices down throat, she couldn't deny raw arousal from the very idea of cock-sucking these animals. Of just being wrong and yet perhaps, because of that, so inviting.

But it was to be resisted, it wasn't something you couldn't fight. She could deny it in part, she would be able to do the right thing regardless - everyone could.

And yet everyone lost. Even her High Priestess.

So perhaps they were meant to lose to the Horde from day one. After all, she could only look around and see that it was already too far. There was no chance in fel their little race could ever win now - perhaps if she knew before, perhaps then she would be able to do something. Now? There was not a chance that she wasn't meant to just end up as another breeding mare for the Horde. All these years and it took just one scheme to break their race.

So what was there to do?

Tyrande broke her kiss soon enough as she realized what stage her sister was on, her body going softly limp in realization. "Give in, sister." Words of the Priestess resounded as her hand grabbed the first, closest tool and guided it closer to Leafrunner; causing her eyes to fall onto that green, puffy cockhead. "There is nothing to come back to either way. This is our world now."

With a heavy breath did Leafrunner move her eyes onto the tool, just to swallow loudly and close her eyes. There truly was nothing to come back to. There was just this - a whorehouse of Darnassus. As such, with utter defeat did she near that meat and as Lady Whisperwind pushed it closer to her lips, she kissed it in submissiveness. Like this, she could at least remain with her own sisters. 

"That's more like it." Korla nodded with a scoff. "Alright, fill them up." She waved her hand and moved deeper into the city, leaving but a group of grunts to take care of the elves. "I want every better one on the ships by tomorrow and so heavy they can't walk! Except the Priestess…" She scoffed. "...but she'll be fine anyway." 

Content and happy, soon every single of them was grabbed, turned and sandwiched between soldiers. Leafrunner with guilt, Tyrande with raw satisfaction and the other two with almost mindless happiness. 

The captain felt as a heavy meat fell onto her back and against her cheek; on all fours she had her head shoved into a thick shaft as The High Priestess accompanied her closely, sucking on yet another set of green jewels as her purple asshole was being exposed; as a heavy slap sent these fat, elven buttocks into a wild wiggle.

A few times was her head slammed into that cock, right before she was slid upwards till her lips could kiss that urethra; with weak hesitation she opened these lips wider, allowing herself to taste that damned nectar. Its sticky texture and salty taste did not repulse her as much as she would wish, nor did the feeling of a heavy hand ripping her loin-armor away.

Her very Lady slobbered over orcish balls and every other elf she could see did either the same or happily took in orcish dick - one way or another. Rather unceremoniously was Leafrunner's ass spread with an orcish hand, so was the green prick taken off her back, leaving just rich traces of leaked precum.

Smelling like a mixture of sweat-sponge and a Horde's cumdumpster, she eventually closed these moonlit eyes as to not look at what she would blow and went down that shaft; as much as possible and just enough to gobble up that tip. Knowing it was the only way to go, she put her tongue to work and cleaned that urethra, these glans and whatever remnants of holy saliva.

Naturally it was half hesitant work, lacking confidence and staying far behind the High Priestess who seemed to lick a green sack with almost religious zeal; front and the sides, sneaking a little behind to ensure full cleaning and leaving the entire thing glistening with saliva. With her udders hanging down in their full, moon-blessed glory and with nipples pierced with broad, iron rings, Lady Whisperwind didn't even budge once a fat, overly thick tool was shoved into her asshole.

Only a practiced, loud set of noises left her maws, rehearsed many a time to sound as close to a melting, Horde-enslaved, cock-addict as possible. She moaned with almost theatrical pleasure and shock as her ring widened, ensuring her lords would hear her approval and awe. Obediently did her rear swallow that cock, hiding the entirety of it between queen-sized buttocks.

Finishing with careful sack-worship, she rose across her own meal of green dickmeat and happily wrapped plum lips around its tip - once more letting out sounds of shock and love, as if she didn't do it a hundred times. Unlike her subordinate, she kept a close eye-contact with the orcish grunt.

Leafrunner struggled on both fronts, not having the required training to spread her maws alike a madwoman nor being used to her rear being used just like that; it wasn’t her who walked days upon days with heavy pounds of iron up her rear. As such, she froze softly as a heavy tip suddenly met her asshole, slowly moving in and sending sensations across her body that she didn't think possible before that; those shamed eyes opened suddenly as she still was there with a mouthful of cock, simply feeling as her insides were slowly spread apart.

And that was just natural compatibility.

Raw sensation, feeling of the guilty bliss and realization that it was no real pain, no real discomfort, just her guts being just pushed aside for an orcish cock as they were meant to do. That and the raw pleasure. Enough to make her shiver and salivate that much more, to a point where it ran down this orcish cock and dripped from his balls.

As the elves around took in lengths beyond her imagination, her rear was being carefully adjusted and then slapped a few times; turning her rear red before it was used more rhythmically. It wasn't long till that meat began to tenderize her alike all the other kaldorei game, adding her to that practical pile of usable bodies.

It truly wasn't long till she was but another purple fuckmeat, lined next to all others and worked alike all of them; just another asshole stretching over orcish meat, just another pair of these famous, full lips busy with cocksucking. Just another walking storage for spunk and seed, as demonstrated by the orcs that soon reached their peaks and leisurely allowed their balls to empty themselves.

The two subordinates who obediently held her down previously now gulped loudly with cheeks pouted alike those of squirrels, keeping these tips at the edge of their lips; happily looking up at their masters, they dinned upon these overwhelming, obscene amounts of goopy spunk. Wisely so as spilling your food was a sign of poor manners and an elf needed to know how to behave by her superiors.

Much like the high priestess did. Visible, round chunks were pushed down Tyrande's throat and her tongue worked carefully to push any straggling clumps into her throat. These wide, royal hips worked to yet entertain the peaking orc behind her and the silver rings of her nipples scraped the blades of grass, accordingly. That plum, Horde-attuned asshole clenched in almost iron tightness around the green shaft to hold white thickness inside her. 

Unlike them, Leafrunner wasn't granted a meal due to her fresh incompetence, so it was not the white spunk that poured out from it but a mass of dense precum mixed with her saliva. Much of it she tried to swallow, knowing she would choke otherwise but much yet splattered on the ground below, obscenely drooling from her chin. The orc before was clearly unimpressed, perhaps even bored and made her feel on the edge of being but discarded. A blush of shame fell upon her that elven and whether it was because of her gobbling up a filthy brute’s cock or because she failed to satisfy it, she wouldn't know.

Yet she clearly wasn't a full failure as Leafrunner felt how a wave of heat ran across her insides, drowning them in spunk as if her war-carved, ancient body was but a simple dump. A relief hole for whoever stood behind her and got to shove their tool into her; all to release amounts she thought impossible before. 

Naturally so, her hips kept on working, squeezing out the seed from the brutish tool even after it stopped moving itself;  her breasts hung down freely, her nipples hard as stone. It was but innate, a response that was not in her head but in her nature, as she learnt.

Load after load, he grew that belly of hers, ever so softly but without an end, amidst the smooching, sucking, moaning and whining of her former sisters she was supposed to fight alongside. Along with her High Priestess who allowed one flaccid tool to bounce out of her mouth before licking her lips and cleaning yet another urethra; along with her subordinates whose sweaty bodies pressed against each other as they worked.

As her belly hung enough and the grunt was done, he merely pulled out of her, causing her body to nearly collapse upon its own weight; revealing a wildly twitching, claimed asshole and a slight leak of the white thickness. Her eyes rolled up softly and a cock-muffled whine was lost between the symphony of the orgy.

Not long she was given to rest before she felt another tool meet her ring and then, slowly plug into her, causing an orgasm unlike any other; making her realize she came almost instantly and more so, that it wasn't the first time today and, most importantly, that it wouldn't be the last today either. Orc after orc, load after load, meat after meat that she would need to spread her holes for.

And it was so, next to the Priestess that never stood as happy as right now, who wouldn't raise from her knees and hands till her belly now also caressed the blades of the grass below, a belly which was no different to a spunk barrel; a shape it was most familiar with.

And as their bellies went into shapes she thought impossible before, the fifth one took Leafrunner’s reddened rear - and by that time she could almost gobble up a half of an orcish cock.

All of which, she would share with her lady no less. Sooner or later.



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