Chapter 1 - Meals of White

Vivid leaves repeatedly bent under the heavy drops, watery tears dripped from one green blade to another, slowly making it to the very bottom where muddy ground took them in with eagerness. Sapphire eyes closed and a faint sigh disappeared in the noise of rainfall, befalling Eastern Kingdoms. 

Rustle of a potted thicket brought her eyes around and she jumped to the side, avoiding an overgrown, wet cat. White beast fell onto the ground and stretched softly, resting furried head on puffy paws and clicking a few times with barbed tongue. 

“I would never expect myself to grow hate towards the rain.” Jaina canted her head softly and rested on a wooden pillar. “But I may just start now.” Stutter of wedge sandals carried itself across the manor’s balcony as another approached the sorceress.

“And what is there to hate life giving rain for?” Priestess halted next to her mount and ruffled the royal sabercat, bestowed with a content purring in the response. “Nature is whimsical but I dare to say that Rain is the least pugnacious of it’s pets.”

“Certainly.” Blue gaze watched the tiny rivers forming on paved ground, flowing down the fenced cliffs and downhill road, putting out the Gilnean lanterns with ease. People of Gilneas used to put burning candles in flasks from golden glass, which she had to agree on, looked quite good by the day, turning into a beautiful shine at night.

Even so, Greymane’s servants haven’t gone as far as for any covering and now the wax lied bare of warmth, stripped of its glow. Candles slowly drowned in the collecting water, something which brought her to a small smile, wondering whether it was the recent liberation which brought them to forget about something so basic or whether it was the way it always was done. 

“Even sweetest pie grows bland after hundredth bite.” Jaina inhaled deeply. “And this is the fourth day of this unending downpour. Deluge and deluge all around.” Tyrande squinted moonlit eyes softly and left her hand behind Ash’Alah’s ear but did not scratch the needy beast, prompting its eyes to rise onto her mistress.  

“Weren’t storms and merciless torrents not uncommon for your homeland? I would expect a child of the Admiralty to find no distress in such things.”  

“People tend to antagonize minor inconveniences rather than things of a grander scale. A tragedy occurs in the winterspring, they don’t hate the blizzard, they hate the snow. Lose someone in a deluge, they won’t hate the water, they will speak of the rain.” Sorceress canted her head.

Tyrande caressed the vast leaf of a potted plant, curiously examining the balcony of Greymane Manor and the recently brought infusion of flowers and flora, now turning the wooden platform into a small grove of a kind.”Lose someone in a storm, they shall speak of the Sea.”

“Storm is but an instrument of the sea. A much different case.” Jaina shook her head with a small smile and then scratched the wet cat behind tall ear, burying fingers in stripes of white and black. “I didn’t know I was called to discuss philosophy, High Priestess.” Tone of amusement followed as the beast squinted eyes in pleasure. “Should have simply called me to Darnassus.”

“Perhaps I should have. Nonetheless, I believe it was wisest to leave wolves in their den.” Tense voices and scent of rush reached them from the manor as servants whirled around the house. “Where are we to discuss future of our Alliance if not in the living sign of our advancing liberation.”

Jaina nodded a few times to herself, shaking head with a pleased expression. “The Liberation of Gilneas. I had wished that this day would come but never expected to stand so soon in the lordly manor, waiting for the upcoming celebrations. It would seem that Greymane hit them harder than we expected. But to force them to pull out of Gilneas entirely…”

“I had my own disagreements with Greymane over his operation, especially as he came to me alike a beaten dog.” Sorceress’ eyebrows rose softly as deeply painted nails of the priestess rose a glassy chalice to puffy lips. “But It indeed appears that he had succeeded where we thought he has failed miserably.”

“I suppose you haven’t taken one for me?” Daughter of Kul’Tiras folded her arms and stared at the elf with a mildly expecting expression, much to the displeasure of Ash’Alah who just was stripped of ear scratches. 

“I assumed that mages must always be clear of mind.” Moonlit eyes fell on the sorceress with amusement, all as Jaina scoffed. “It would seem out alliances are much more fragile than I expected them to be.” A soft laughter engulfed them, all before a dose of silence, if one was to not count the ongoing downpour.

Sapphire gaze slipped onto the elven leader with curiosity. Tyrande always shined as the purest example of Kaldorei finest, representing vigilance and calm, cold judgement, all alongside being a peak of exotic, royal beauty. 

High Priestess of Elune presented herself with the immaculate, alabaster silk, soft and creamy skin, everything adorned with the natural for her kind strands. With the usual choice of vast jewelry, she was but a proud gem of her nation, desired and unreachable.

Yet now she appeared… bigger. Jaina by no means would say that the Moonchosen has gotten fatter since their last meeting, what stood next to her was still a shapely avatar of forest beauty. But she doubtlessly got… just bigger.


Shapely thighs grew plumpier, enough to dig fingers into and push the delicate flesh around, bend it around the nails. The front barely kept in white dress and it was it that mattered, now widely spread around the grand, royal hips, moon blessed backsides visible even from the front view, round and nearly perfect in their shape.

Tyrande just looked as if she became a mommy.

Archmage scolded her own thoughts and averted the gaze with a mild blush. It could have been true but it wasn’t the time for such thoughts. Luckily for her, a small coven scaling the tall hill came to her with salvation from the thought. 


"And so, the King approaches." Her voice lied a little more awkward than she wished it to be but hopefully, stain of the feeling was delicate enough to not be felt at all. 


 "A sight one would expect to be something more than a wet man in pretty steel." High Priestess added with a small smile of amusement as a pleased stare turned towards them, nearly hidden beneath the wet, brown hair befalling his face, mildly covering the scars of Vrynn. 


The King marched uphill effortlessly, drenched and without any coverage from the heavy rain, escorted by the heavily adorned guards, hidden beneath heavy sets of plates 


Jaina quelched her smile and the chuckle alike. Varian scaled the steepy road with haste, enjoying his little trip without a doubt, his coven not so much. None of the high ups would dare to cover themselves from rain when their King didn't and certainly weren't given a single moment of respite either.


It was the blonde, messy face that caught her attention afterwards. "Poor boy. He certainly shares father's enthusiasm." Anduin gave an honest but well exhausted smile to his aunt, even though her words were uttered too far to reach him. "The ability to mindlessly ignore all efforts of your body still haven't passed onto him though."


Tyrande shook her head softly in agreement with a tiny, well hidden smirk. "The boy is young yet. He hasn't passed anything his father had. It is not easy to be a prince, certainly neither being Varian's son."


"Nonetheless, he is our future king. I can not say I look forward to the day he becomes one but I know he will be more than fitting."


Priestess nodded and as Gilnean nobles marched out of the manor, ready to grant a proper greeting to their king. "He is a strong spirit. One to be carved and molded out yet by life."


"Naturally. I believe it would be the time to relocate ourselves. Varian and Greymane doubtlessly are boiling with fervor and enthusiasm. Besides, who else has arrived? Who shall yet?" Archmage ruffled the sabercat for the last time and turned around, marching towards the war room.


"The dwarves are busy squabbling. An ambassador should be sent, assuming they manage to decide upon this matter. And draenei have sent their blessings of Light but Velen has foreseen that his presence isn't necessary. Nonetheless, they stand with the Liberation of Gilneas and offer their support."

“A time far too stricken with war and hate to enjoy a simple celebration after all. With Light’s grace, I hope it will be over soon.” Western Entrance took them into the royal hall of the lordly manor, Jaina marched with a small smile on her face, trying to avoid the whirling storm of servants. 

Deeply brown tiles hosted their steps as they descended deeper, between the tables being set up and dozens of carved, brightly yellow chairs recently brought, painted to resemble actual gold, whilst only the most high ranking members of the party would sat their bottoms on the actual gold, yet unrobbed by Forsaken forces.

Bottled candles adorned the walls, letting out faint, easily dying off smoke into the air, composing into the red walls with blackened pattern of gilnean crests, all resting on the foundation of umber shaded wood and strong, slick columns. 

Tyrande passed into the middle part of the hall, leaving the western exit behind, which led to the tearrance. Grand foyer was a richly decorated room of small tables by the walls and paintings of Greymane’s predecessors, all mildly overshadowed by the grand staircase leading upwards in the middle, 

Grandiose stained glass stood above the steps, shaded alike a faint emerald and bestowing the hall with a medley of green light beams, all beneath a golden two-part chandelier shaped into sprouting thorn vines of gilnean Thorn Crowns, a nasty, barbed vines with a habit of catching you and not letting go till half of your flesh is gone. 

Nearly molten runes shined on the golden craft, hanging above the grand hall, on the height of side balconies from the upper levels, allowing to watch the guests and celebrations from nearly bird's view, hosting a few servants as of now, discussing the arrangement and collocation of the furniture and food. 

Jaina looked back and met a quick glimpse of Varian’s gaze, all before she turned to the stairs and laid hand on carved handrail from dark wood, scaling the steps of mildly bleaked, scarlet carpet. Drops of water slowly dispersed into the red and she averted her eyes from displeased servants, scaling a bit faster, coming even with the night elf. 


Tyrande led her between the stationed gilnean guard and unexpectedly turned to the left, striving away from the war room. Noticing the curious stare, she explained herself briefly. "It will yet take a while before the council takes place. And to my knowledge, you weren't served a thing yet."


Archmage blinked and her lips broke into a small smile. From all the gathered, she didn't expect to find Tyrande caring for her in these matters. "I may agree, assuming the High Priestess joins me in the act."


Night elf only gave her a deep, pleased smile and spread the doors to a vast, guest room. "Naturally. Gilnean cuisine knows a way to appease one's tongue. I would not dare to decline such an offer."


A long, ornamented table rested on a puffy, scarlet carpet, hosting but two chairs from black, shining wood, each back carved into the crest of Gilneas whilst the feet resembled lion's paws.


Silver cutlery lied spread before both seats, certainly long prepared. High Priestess sat on the furthest chair, deep into the room, inhaling deeply with soft shiver as she slowly lowered her bottom.


"Everything's fine?" Jaina asked and examined her own chair in, seeing nothing but a wide, tangerine cushion that soon hosted the bottom of Kul'tiras's daughter


"Naturally. Let it be said that I anticipate the meal." Tyrande ran her hand across the deep, green hair and ruffled a few leaves out of it, allowing then to softly fly across the room and rest on the carpet.


"Who would think that wolven dishes will fit Kaldorei taste to such extent." Archmage cackled softly and rested in her chair. Carved back wasn't as comfortable but a good guest does not complain. Not when given free meals at least.


"Shouldn't we tell the servants or… Oh I see. I never had a choice when it comes to the dinner, did I?" She canted her head and looked at the plum-skinned companion of her's, who only leaned back alike.


"Waging war with empty stomach is not beneficial. And I am here to ensure you are as beneficial to us as possible " Tyrande said with a mildly heralding tone, causing the pair of sapphire eyes to roll.


"Am I but a tool of the Alliance, I see." Sorceress' voice lied scented with amusement but yet she simply waited. "Anything you recommend then? I would doubtlessly like to know what grasped the liking of a High Priestess."


"The sauce, naturally." High Priestess squinted moonlit eyes softly as the doors opened a new, allowing two tall, wrogen servants to march in with silvery plates and rest mouth-watering dishes before the two women.


A dozen of steamy, wonderfully brown beef roll ups was laid on the table, half per each of them, appetizingly dripping with natural oil in which hanged countless spices from around the Azeroth.


Showered with properly cut ,tiny pieces of fried onion and adorned around the place with huge, orange  from overflowing grease potatoes, tasty additions stood on the silver, forming a small pool beneath entirety of the meal.


"My my." Jaina's voice painted itself with mild but honest surprise. "That is not a light meal."


"No." Tyrande smiled as a huge, golden bowl fallen onto the table with force, hosting gallons of thick, white cream.  "It is not."


One of the servants neared her, holding a smaller container with the same liquid, which additionally had a small jaw on it's side to allow pouring the contents down onto whatever was needed. "Would you like the sauce, Archmage?" Sorceress turned sapphire eye onto her kaldorei companion, who only nodded in an encouraging manner.


"Naturally." Answering the servant, she watched as the sauce was slowly released onto her meal in a sluggish, hastelees manner. Oozing, bubbly cream slowly covered her dish in a rich, curvaceous pattern, grasping the top and the sides of cooked meat, burying oil below.


Aroma soon reached her nose, filling the nostrils with heavy, intense smell. Jaina's hands clenched softly on each other as she swallowed her saliva, growing mildly restless on her seat, spying on the twin meal of her companion, seeing as it equally drowned in the cream.


As soon as the containers stood emptied, both servants left without a word, leaving only two royal ladies in the room and a vast, deep bowl of bubbly, hot sauce. Tyrande grasped the silver cutlery and dig shining knife into the puffy, immaculate layer of her sauce, ripping deeper and to the side, showing off the inner side of beef, allowing the wave of oozing cream to fill the void.

Unquivering, fixed gaze watched as elven fork broke into a skillfully cut out piece, rising it from the bulk of meat, allowing the thick strings of white sauce to stretch between the plate and rising silver. Puffy, dark lips soon grasped what was given and High Priestess’ tongue took care of the meal.

“Something wrong, Jaina?”

Archmage nearly jumped on her seat, blushing heavily and grasping her own cutlery, shaking her head while realizing that she stared at the elf in an obvious, blatant manner. “No, forgive me.. I was lost in thoughts.” She shuddered, watching her own meal, radiating with the heavy, mind-clogging aroma. 


She grasped her own cutlery and inhaled deeply, slowly separating a tiny piece of the beef from the rest, rising it and watching again the strands of stretchy sauce slowly show themselves.


Watching as her companion took a second bite by this time, she led the white piece into her own mouth. Rosy lips closed around the fork and her hand froze, halted in place by the sensation.


Her cheeks turned tomato red as sapphire eyes squinted in the response to otherworldly salty dish, feeling as her insides drowned in the invasive, choking aroma of thick ooze. Jaina slowly pulled out the fork from between her lips, instinctively keeping them as shut as possible, pulling out the silvery cutlery spotless clean as if it was just washed and wiped dry.


Archmage's breath broke softly as she began to move her tongue, sluggishly as it stood nearly immobilized from the clogging, glue-like cream that adorned her meal so richly. Bubbles formed and broke beneath the muscle, granting an unnamable sensation.


It overwhelmed her taste buds, choked out every other taste and entirely filled her with the mind-breakingly salty sensation. Spread around by the movement of sorceress' tongue, it soon invaded every tiniest bit of her mouth.


It was fleshy, inhumanly delicious and nearly stuck her tongue in a single spot but yet she couldn't stop moving it around, playing with her meal and clogging herself with the thick aroma.


Red alike the carpets of manor and with shaking eyes, she sat before the High Priestess, unable to stop chewing on the salty dish for a timeless while, on the fleshy, delicious aroma that reminded her of something she didn't taste for far too long.


"Swallow, Jaina." Tyrande smiled and cut one of the beef roll ups in half. "Swallow."


Archmage obeyed without a moment, far too lost in the sensation to think about anything but her meal. Loudly and while rising her head, she pushed the piece down her throat, showing off a momentary, visible bulge to her companion, just to then clench one of her hands around the fork and raise another to her throat.


Her thoughts lied blurry as everything but the plate before her seemed to be foggy, irrelevant to what she was at this moment. Her feelings converged around the thick sauce pouring down her neck and stopping in half, clinging to the walls alike glue.


"Drink." Night Elf ordered again, rising a chalice to her own lips. "It tends to... " Plum lips spread into a wide smile before taking a sip of Dalaran Noir. "... get stuck in places."


Jaina did not know from where the chalice has come or whether it was there before, yet it stood next to her hand, filled with the deeply red, alcoholic beverage. Wine rose to her kisser, soon pouring down directly into the throat.


Guzzling a good half of a bottle before shakily leaving empty container on the table, she inhaled in a ragged, shallow manner, with open mouth. Tyrande smiled as the remnants of white nectar still stretched inside human mouth.


Archmage clenched her thighs and softly bent forward, pushing against the table, feeling unnamable heat inside her, lurking beneath the skin and being able to satisfy it only in a single way. Nails of the sorceress clenched harder and harder as the tightly shut, arcane bust was gradually crushed between her chest and the edge of the table. 


Tyrande rose from her own chair, her expression breaking visibly for a mere while, yet still not to be seen by the mage whose focus drowned long ago in the thick, wide cream.


Tall heels took the elf across gilnean guest room, soon resting behind blonde sorceress. High Priestess leaned forward softly and whispered into the ear of her companion. "Eat. Don't stop until nothing is left."


And she obeyed. Jaina released her bust from the wood and backed off softly, just to nod quietly and cut another piece of the beef, ripping it away, out of the oozing, white jail. 


It was dripping, invisible under the creamy layer but it didn't stop her from pushing it into the starved mouth, from spreading it again across messy insides.


"Swallow." The order was given once more and her muscles obeyed, pushing the clogging piece down her neck, just to become stuck again. High Priestess poured another chalice of wine, which she respectively poured down the throat wordlessly.


"Eat."


Tyrande smiled contently as commands followed, one after another, bending the sorceress to fill the pretty mouth with stained beef and swallow every time she became blocked.


Red wine ran out not much after and before the fifth piece met her stomach, Jaina sat on the chair, guzzling down the thick ooze, richly poured into her chalice, pushing stuck cream and meat with another portions of her meal.


White cream stained her skin, hanging from cheeks and flowing down wizardly chin, falling onto the clenched, burning from inside thighs. Something dripped from her seat but it was not the sauce and she wouldn't dare to check.


Jaina's movement halted for a moment as drops of sweat covered her skin, the shoulders, the forehead, everything stood in heat. "It's… hot inside." Begging, sapphire and yet foggy eyes fell onto the kaldorei leader.


"Is it?" Tyrande's lips bent into a wide smile as she moved around the table, grasping her chair and pulling it towards the archmage once more, soon sitting beside her friend. "Be a good mage and I will open a window later."


It was burning, smoldering nearly, her breath laid ragged and shallow, all as drops of sweat poured down her skin, soaking the wet fabric and disappearing in the valley of arcane tits. 


But she wanted to be a good mage. She would wait.


Blazing from heat chest rose up and down repeatedly as she melted on the dark chair, rising the cream stained chin upwards and staring onto wooden ceiling, unable to weave any thought.


"Perhaps you need to undress." High Priestess licked her lips, running painted nail across the arcane cleavage. "You wear too much. A good mage would take it off already."


Tyrande was right. She had far too much on herself, if she won't get rid of it, she won't be a good mage and then her friend won't open the window to let in cold air. She needed cold air and she needed to be good.


Light pauldrons quickly met the corner of manor's guest room and her violet cape fell beneath the chair, falling into the pool which formed beneath her, soaking. The vivid violet turned into dark, dimmed purple of wet cloth.       


"How does it feel now?" High Priestess asked, watching the redded from heat skin of a sorceress, observing the forming drops of sweat. "It wouldn't appear to be enough. Perhaps the outer tunic is unnecessary."


It was. Jaina's hands shakily reached towards the fabric but halted in the middle as Tyrande stood up and marched behind the human. "Let me help. A good sorceress does not decline."


No. She doesn't. And she would be a good sorceress. Slick hands soon dig into the cloth of her back and silken strings loosened, allowing the outer tunic to fall off and Jaina to watch her own, swelling and hot breasts, tightly tucked together by the inner tunic, which covered only the bottom half of each udder.


Pink areolas rested on the edge of fabric, as her nipples burned from the heat, stiffly breaking through thin cloth. Her hands moved towards them to cover slipping rose flesh but words of elven mistress halted her in place.  


"A good sorceress is always willing to show her breasts, at any time and to anyone who wishes to see them. Your body isn't yours at all, is it? Or do you think otherwise?"


It wasn't. Her tits didn't belong to her, she didn't belong to herself. It was shameful to accept such things, unfit for an Kirin Tor Archmage and yet, it felt… Right for her 


Jaina's fingers moved to the surprise of her elven companion and thin cloth was pulled down, allowing the arcane udders to spill freely, far behind the pumpkin sized pounds of meat that Tyrande could present but nonetheless round and royal in their nature.


"My my, it would appear that Jaina Proudmoore likes to show off her body. As if we had an violet exhibitionist out there." Kaldorei Queen smiled widely and inhaled deeply the nectar-soaked scent of her friend, soon whispering into the human ear. "Continue. Like a good sorceress."


Like a good sorceress. She swallowed her shame and delved deeper into the guilty humiliation, slipping nails beneath the fabric of her pants, pulling them down and showing off the soaked, overflowing panties, darkened from the liquids and turned from a bright, cyan shade to shoddy, deep colour of oceanic depths.


Elven finger ran down the redded stomach of seed filled wizard, forcing out a slight moan as the movement caused the thick contents of her belly to move softly, clinging to walls alike glue.


Jaina's hand wrapped around the edge of dark table when amethyst finger pressed against her panties, letting out a rich, gushing sound as archmage's love juices poured out, flooding the chair and dripping onto cold floor, forming the long lasting pool of her liquids.


"Nasty." Tyrande nodded contently, stretching the sound with pleasure and then grasped the flawlessly clean knife, carefully cleaned as soon as the meal was over. Blade slipped beneath the thin, laced fabric of archmage's underwear.


"That will be of use to you no more."










"Naturally." Greymane softly bowed his head and turned beastly gaze onto the main doors. "Lady Jaina is currently taking care of important matters alongside Tyrande, I'm afraid our council will need to wait."


"Perhaps for the best. My men can withstand the worst but the hill you found for yourself seems to outmatch their endurance.  A moment of respite is what they will need." Varian folded his arms in amused manner and looked onto the royal escort.


"Chambers for you and your people stand prepared on the first floor. The servants should lead you and everyone else. You are in need of that rest as well." Lady Idriana smiled with hands crossed on her hands. 


It was not known exactly for what the former coin maiden was raised to the status of Royal Maiden of Darnassus nor why Tyrande insisted on bringing her with herself to the council. The High Priestess wasn't one to shower her subordinates with pointless titles however, there was no one in the Alliance to distrust her reasons.


"You underestimate your king, Lady Idriana. I'm not that old yet." Varian shook his head softly and turned eyes onto the ripe, adult elf, caring little for the grand bust.


"We are merely saving you from yourself, Varian. Besides, you know they won't truly rest until you do. Your men are just as foolhardy as their king." Wolven Lord added with amusement.


"Tough argument. I don't believe I can win in this discussion." Varian turned the eye onto his men. "Before midnight it is then. Rest well until then, Greymane."


Royal gaze fell onto the shapely elf. "And you, Lady Idriana. I am glad to see that another night elf has proven herself to be a hero in eyes of Tyrande, not many has been granted such honor."


Former coin maiden bowed deeply, while rising her long, wide dress. "I live to serve the Alliance."


"We all do." Varian nodded to himself and marched towards the entrance to personally carry the news to his people, one of many things that defined the man.


"It is our time to take care of the preparations then, Lord Greymane." Kaldorei Royal Maiden said with pleasant eyes and looked onto her host, who only turned around and began climbing the stairs. She followed wordlessly.


Tall heels took her alongside wolven paws, all till the second floor where sharp claws grasped the plump, ripe ass of a darnassian coin slut, squeezing to a point where elven buttocks spilled out between his fingers, plump and grand.


"Everything is being prepared as expected, isn't it?" Merciless hand pulled the pounds of her rear-meat, stretching the servantly flesh and causing Idriana to shiver in the instant orgasm. "What about Jaina?"


"Naturally. The cook-sisters are working hard over the wolves." Night elf exhaled deeply as her bottom soon rested free from the claws of sensation, reddening from the force. "The Moonslut is taking care of Lady Proudmoore."


"Good. I hold nothing against Jaina but her cunning would become an issue, sooner or later. Besides, our family has to grow." Heavy hands spread the doors to the secondary dining room of the manor, showing off the carefully lined up rows of night elves, sucking and milking gilnean beasts. 


Bucket after bucket of thick, oozing seed was gathered, some given to the addicted cum-sluts, other carried to the kitchen to prepare the dishes for the prietter part of the incoming celebrations.


"Is Lady Shandris not there?" Idriana looked carefully around the jizz-drowning hall, sometimes locking curious eyes on the fat, scarlet knots, veiny tools ramming amethyst assholes.


"No. She was left in the Darnassus to keep peace as it should be and ensure that nothing goes wrong. Besides, I am not sure if Tyrande ordered to untie her from the table yet."


Greymane stomped the head of one lesser druid, as she muttered mindlessly while hosting a trio of wolven dicks inside her hole. "This makes you the one in charge here when I and Tyrande are gone."


"Curious." Idriana smiled, looking as the gallons of dog spunk pouring out of a stretched hole. "Truly curious "








Jaina's expression broke as the irregular, shoddily conjured ice toy repeatedly spread her lower lips, filling the Archmage's ladyparts with cold, sensation-bringing presence.


Her hot, burning from heat insides clenched around the freezing toy, tasting the sensation of every bump, imperfection and edge. With a belly and thoughts full of thick nectar, she barely managed to keep the shape.


Tyrande played with her hair and stood behind the chair of former archmage, enjoying as red face repeatedly slammed against her exposed, kaldorei tits. "Don't stop. A good sorceress makes it only bigger."


Bigger. Through the mists of her malfunctioning, pleasure and aroma ridden brain, she heard the word and poured more mana into the toy, feeling as her insides spread even more, drowning in the increasing chill that was a side effect of her magic.


Arcane ass slapped against the chair again and again as its owner rode a self-created frost-dick, shaped far from anything that even mildly resembled an Azerothian meat, humanoid or beastly.


"Bigger." High Priestess purred pleasantly and sipped from a newly bought chalice of her own nectar and stared down at the jumping mage. 


Jaina's eyes closed softly as she enlarged the ice even more, feeling as nearly virgin insides stretched wildly, hosting even larger shard of otherworldly cold magic.


"Bigger."


Sorceress whined but followed, nearly closing her eyes, far from acquainted with dicks inside her, even further from enormous, womb-poking tools which eagerly made her insides unable to grasp pleasure from non-otherwordly meat.


"Bigger."


Her grip turned iron as she slowly rammed herself down the tool, forcefully filling herself. But she was a good sorceress and she would obey.


"Bigger."


Her womb became filled with her own creation as another command came, stretched walls fought the swollen ice, turning her insides into a mere holder for everything that was yet to come.


"Bigger."


There was insanity in it. But so was satisfaction, appeasing the burning nectar inside her, being a good sorceress who does as she's told. Even if it was wrong.


"Bigger."


Perhaps she was even the best sorceress. It was far and unclear why but something longed for that lack of independency, her whole life she had to find the way on her own.


With the womb stretched and properly remolded around a grand, icy cock of something that didn't exist, she didn't need to search for anything again. There was only freedom. Freedom from unnecessary thought and pleasure-bound obedience.


"Now that's.." Puffy, lipsticked lips of the Kaldorei bent into a content smile as the archmage slowly slid down the giant, irregular and imperfect dick for the last time, painting a beautiful, nasty bulge on her chest. "... enough for a first timer."


While her insides seeped with cold and stretched, holding the shape of a grand, otherworldly dick that she conjured herself, Jaina slowly melted on her creation, calming the heat of a royal body.


As a layer of thin, raging cold spread from her lower lips and covered creamy thigh in a immaculate, perfect net of ice, Jaina's face drowned in spilled seed, clogging the nose with aroma of pure bliss.


"My hand slipped." Tyrande moved the chalice back into vertical position. Plum tongue ran across the buried cheek, collecting what was spilled from a former archmage, now drowning in thoughts of willingly accepted cock-slavery.


"That said, I don't think you bother your mind things as trivial. Not anymore." A soft scoff followed and a wave of hot air hit the human face, hidden beneath layer of white ecstasy. "Shame."


Night elf continued to lick her drink off.









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