Chapter 1 - Family Ties

 
The searing bronze coin of the morning sun rose over Silvermoon City. The cool of night was still in the air, the moisture yet beaded on the leaves. It had rained gently these last few days, keeping the Windrunner sisters cooped up in their house where they couldn’t possibly do what they wanted to do to each other without alerting their parents. Their needs unfulfilled, they were forced to wait until it was over. Another couple days and they simply would have made love anyway, regardless of the rain and mud. Thankfully their patience had paid off, and today they journeyed deep into the forest to ensure none would stumble across their incestuous union. Each girl was breathing hard from the hike, and sweating. Leather didn’t let their skin breathe so the sweat stuck, and the material wasn’t very flexible either, so it had to be cut into shape to cup their dicks.
 
“Come on, Vereesa,” Sylvanas said, her voice level, standing atop a lush green hill. She had longer legs and more toned musculature: the elder sister always had more ease moving through the lush Quel’Thalas forest. Today she wore scintillating blue-dyed hunter’s leathers. She was a little stockier, and a lot more confident in her body—her outfit left her stomach exposed. Skin-clinging leather pants stretched from boot to waist, curling around her youthful ass and sinking into her crack. Her ears and brows were not as long as they would be later in life, though despite her youth she was the proud owner of a stunning pair (considering her age) of hand-filling breasts that Vereesa envied desperately, not having her own to strut (perhaps in a few years). Vereesa, meanwhile, was dressed in a brilliant green-and-white coat and a skirt that resembled leaves fanning out around her butt. The younger girl swore in Thalassian, her eyes to the ground to not trip. As she trudged up the hill behind her, Sylvanas turned around to see that no-one was following, then stealthily readjusted her sweating nuts. 
 
After an hour they made it to a verdant grove. A ring of trees surrounded a circle of grass, and the girls laid down in it together. They held hands and stared at the beautiful azure-blue sky together.
 
“Let’s do it,” Sylvanas said breathily, already fiddling with her pants button.
 
“Okay,” Vereesa replied softly, nodding very slightly, a blush on her cheeks. Sylvanas purred as she slid her hands over Vereesa’s hips, touching their noses in an eskimo kiss. Those hips felt natural in her grip. She closed her eyes and kissed her forcefully, with all the clumsiness—and passion—of youth. Sylvanas’ tongue forced open Vereesa’s lips and they shared a brief but wet kiss, both girls tenting their clothing.
 
A string of spit connecting their lips as Sylvanas pushed her hand against Vereesa’s bulge, then smirked. “You want me,” she concluded from the throbbing need she found there, and Vereesa grinned back, smooching her again nice and loud. It was the work of a moment for both girls to strip their bottoms off and let their teenage elven cocks breathe in the cool, humid air. Even as a teenager Sylvanas was gifted with a dick that would have looked more at home on an orc. Pale pink, meaty, with a pair of swinging nuts underneath that screamed her virility. In just a few years Sylvanas would be singlehandedly responsible for a population boom. Her sister’s was only just a little smaller, her balls smoother and less veined, skin tighter around the orbs.
 
“I do want you,” Vereesa replied, sliding her hands around Sylvanas’ butt, then gripping it firmly. “But I want to be on top this time.”
 
“No,” Sylvanas said, her ruby lips curling in a sneer. She pushed their dicks together, laying one over top of the other, then pressed hard until they stood up against each other’s stomachs. It was clear that Sylvanas was bigger, and her sweaty, musky nuts were the obvious superiors as well. “Isn’t it obvious who the alpha is?” 
 
Vereesa grumbled. Her asshole was still sore from last time. Did size really matter that much that she would risk her partner’s pleasure? Still… she felt herself squirm imagining Sylvanas fucking her. It wasn’t like she didn’t love it.
 
Sylvanas smirked, slowly wrapping her fingers around her thick pink cock, pushing her thumb onto the top until the skin bunched. “Now, get on your knees where you belong,” she said, pushing down on Vereesa, who, quivering slightly, sank down and pressed her face against her domme’s groin, moaning softly at the scent of her dick. Sylvanas made sure to rub the smell into her sister’s face for a good two minutes, smearing her balls on Vereesa repeatedly before finally allowing her to kiss her foreskin, take it deep into her mouth, and finally swallow her cum.
 
* * *
 
Sylvanas had been lying in bed, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling, when that memory of her childhood was suddenly forced onto her. It was happening a lot, and at times she couldn’t anticipate. This time it happened that she was lying on her bed exactly the same as she had laid on the grass with her sister. It was almost like her undead brain was struggling to make links into memories that had rotted away. That wasn’t the only thing had had suffered in her transformation from Banshee to Dark Hunter, however. These last few weeks, a crawling and implacable pain had settled in the same virile balls that she had used to impregnate countless Elven women. The same balls, but something felt different. Aside from the ashen and unhealthy pallour of the skin, the veins themselves had turned black. Her nuts ached, and it wasn’t even close to the pleasant kind of ache she’d feel when she’d been on campaign and unable to cum for a few weeks. She reached down between her grey thighs and touched the orbs gingerly, wincing as she always did. Any kind of contact with the blackened veins hurt especially, enough pain lancing through to split her face in a grimace.
 
Memories of better times. Things she’d never get back. The juxtaposition between the vibrant green Quel’Thalas with its open air and total freedom… and the subdued purples and mottled, moss-covered greys of Undercity, where there was no sky, just miles of stone walls and iron gates preventing passage for the unfit. Even worse, there was no Vereesa, and while her mind craved sex as much as it had in life, her body had turned against her. She wouldn’t admit it, but… she was having trouble getting hard. Her virility had been a point of personal pride once upon a time. She reassured herself that it was just that she was having a hard time getting used to her new body. But even when she did manage an erection, her sensitivity was dulled and her orgasms were depressing. She closed her eyes and imagined a nice pair of bouncy tits slowly sliding up and down her prick. Two minutes later and she was half-hard, if that. Her eyes popped open and she let out a snort of annoyance. There was only one cure for memories of better times: alcohol. She made her way to the closest pub and drowned her sorrows.
 
And suddenly she was in the past again, living in a memory as real as the Emerald Dream. She found herself sitting in the peak of an Elven watchtower, alone with her sister, sitting on a wood-and-leaf couch that was left there. This watchtower had sat empty for hundreds of years before the Scourge showed up, after all. And now it had been weeks since the last undead had shuffled past, and they had grown bored. A cask of wine had been delivered. It wasn’t very good, but that was wartime, and they were warriors; their standards were not the same as they had been in Quel’Thalas. 
 
“To the undead,” Vereesa said, thumping her wooden mug against Sylvanas’.
 
“What does that mean?” Sylvanas said, brow raising, struggling to think of even one thing she could toast the Scourge for. 
 
“…They’re great target practice!” she finished, and Sylvanas giggled, hitting their mugs together again with fervour this time. “When I hit one right between the nose and the eyes, I know I’ve really made it as an archer.” Wine slopped over their hands and outfits, a nice dark spot pooling in Sylvanas’ utterly-perfect cleavage.
 
After a moment, Sylvanas moved her arms to press her fat tits together, making them just a little more inviting. “Well, aren’t you going to do something about this~?”
 
A single laugh from Vereesa. “Ha. Really, right now?”
 
“Why not?” Sylvanas said. “No undead in ages. I’m drunk and bored and I want your lips wrapped around my cock.”
 
“So modest,” she teased. “…oh, very well.” Vereesa sighed, then knelt down on the couch beside her sister before plunging her head into her sweet breasts and giving them a good tongue-bathing. Wine slopped everywhere of course, sticking unpleasantly to Vereesa’s cheeks. She was amazed by how earthy Sylvanas’ cleavage tasted—neither woman had gotten a chance to bathe in three weeks and they were, to put it mildly, tangy. The sweat of Sylvanas’ chest had a stronger flavor than the wine!
 
“You’re as good with your tongue as always,” Sylvanas sighed, relaxing onto the couch. “But why not put it to better use cleaning my armpits?” she placed her hand on the back of Vereesa’s head and forced her nose and mouth into her saltiest spot. Forcing it was something Vereesa found gauche and had warned her about previously, with no success. Vereesa closed her eyes and tried not to breathe in the unwashed stink of her sister’s pits as she lavished her tongue on both sides, teasing the hair-dense flesh and soon ending up with wiry hairs on her tongue and in her mouth. She made a disgusted face.
 
“Good!” Sylvanas roared, grabbing her sister’s ass with her free hand and squeezing it as hard as she could. “Now get on your knees. You won’t mind being my urinal will you? I’ve had to go for an hour” 
 
“Fuck no,” Vereesa said sharply. “That’s disgusting. You really are drunk as hell.”
 
“Suit yourself,” Sylvanas waved her hand. “But suck my cock.”
 
“Yeah, that’s how you seduce someone,” Vereesa shook her head, but acquiesced anyway, sinking to her knees and planting her hands on her sister’s knees
 
“Your throat is the best,” Sylvanas said idly as she freed her prick from her pants, which bobbed up and whacked Vereesa’s cheek wetly. It had grown into a truly beautiful beast, a hefty girlcock that would put most trolls to shame while retaining the perfect proportions of an elven breeder. Sylvanas had mated with so many countless women… but she could always get her hardest for her sister. Vereesa watched, trembling slightly, as Sylvanas grew erect, second by second, her girth filling out, veins standing out, beads of sweat trickling down and even evaporating, leaving her meat a glistening slab of cock. Sylvanas packed on the inches, too, as she got harder—while the tip began around Vereesa’s lips, it dangled over her forehead when all was said and done.
 
“You start with my balls,” Sylvanas ordered harshly, gripping her dick around the base and whacking Vereesa in the face with it a few times, until a string of unwashed grime connected her cheek to her foreskin. “No chance to wash the stink off out here except with a pretty maiden’s tongue, hm?”
 
Vereesa glowered and began licking Sylvanas’ nuts clean. They were fully-engorged, having gone weeks without cumming they were now fearfully pent-up and ready to blow. From the first moment she touched her tongue to the turgid flesh, she felt how badly-congealed the sperm inside were, packed into a too-small pouch and forcing her ballsack to swell before her very eyes as she stimulated the flow down there with her tongue. Sylvanas actually had to open her legs just to let her balls breathe properly, and there was an accompanying gust of stench-filled air blowing right into Vereesa’s nostrils. Sylvanas hadn’t bothered to tend to her bush either, which was spilling in every direction. Vereesa hadn’t seen the end of body hair in her armpits, it seemed. Suddenly Sylvanas grabbed her head and mashed her nose into her fur for a moment, then released, letting Vereesa take a good few deep breaths in shock before Sylvanas laid her heavy balls on her sister’s face and let her take a good few deep breaths of those instead. “Suck my balls,” she ordered, Vereesa suddenly taking in an open-mouthed breath that was just ballflesh, as tears of mascara ran down her cheeks and Sylvanas continued to rub them on her face until strings of saliva and grime had replaced the fair complexion she had started with.
 
Sylvanas narrowed her eyes as she came back out of the memory, then downed the mug of alcohol, wiped her lips on the back of her hand, and left.
 
* * *
 
The next week, Sylvanas noticed a foul smell coming out of her cock. Previously her dick had emitted nostril-tingling musk, the raw scent of virile sex. Now it smelled like death itself. Her skin down there wasn’t merely grey, as her urethra had almost turned black. And yet nothing was rotting, just… almost as if this was normal for a… zombie. It was hard to deny, as every day, her cock and balls went a little softer. A little more difficult to get hard, and worst of all, smaller in her hand. Her manhood was practically shrinking away before her eyes. Why this? Her body had been non-functional for a period of time, but it had returned to function. Everything except what she privately imagined to be her most important part. Then again, and a smile returned to her face, she had gotten an awful lot of Elves pregnant…
 
And her dread returned again as she realized that virtually all of Quel’Thalas had been butchered by the Scourge, leaving her no patriarchy. Bitter tears coursed down her cheeks. The proud bulge in her leathers was disappearing. Once, she’d had to order her pants specially with room for her cock. Now her dicklet hung pointlessly in that cup, bouncing off the sides as she walked.
 
After getting herself a nice tanker of liquor from the pub, she didn’t even stay around in public; instead she returned home, and was now gazing blankly at herself, naked, in the mirror, drinking miserably and staring at her shrunken package. She swallowed… couldn’t swallow. The ball in her throat was too painful, and her body wasn’t producing saliva anyway. The swallow was just a natural reaction, completely dry and just another painful reminder of what she had lost.
 
* * *
 
A week after that, her balls shriveled up almost completely. She was now the unhappy owner of a 3-inch dick and a ballsack that resembled a single dried chestnut, wrinkles and all. The shrinking had stopped, but at a size that made her wish it had disappeared completely. It was covered in ugly little black veins that throbbed constantly and ached at the slightest touch, making it grievously difficult to masturbate while her pinky finger slapped into her oversensitive balls. She continued to crave sex but her body was against her. She continued to daydream about Vereesa for a time, until at last, that too slipped away. 
 
* * *
 
Several years passed, with Sylvanas succumbing to her darkness. The mortal desire for sex faded, though the wish to desire it was always present in her thoughts when she lay calmly at night—she wanted to want it. The Dark Hunter placated herself by reasoning that that was “part of her old life” now, and she refocused her attentions on the campaign against Arthas. Ultimately, he was the one responsible for her position. The campaign continued apace, her minions completing their little errands and tasks. She wondered, briefly, if they would even obey her was it not for the payment she allotted. There were hundreds of thousands of Horde soldiers, but they all worked for gold, not for free. It was a good thing, then, that even deer and birds could be counted on for dispensing pocket change that she could pay them with. 
 
Sylvanas was standing over a map of Northrend spread over a short wooden table. The tent was small and the air was less cold here, in Crystalsong Forest, where those ancient Elven enchantments had proven more powerful than the black magic of the Scourge. Sylvanas eyed one of the Eastern parts of the map, another forest which had begun to thaw as Arthas’ grip on the world weakened. Yes, perhaps she would retire to the Grizzly Hills when the war had ended. She loved forests.
 
Crystalsong itself was nothing like Silvermoon, but the presence of those primordial magics soothed her. Not to mention the trees. Those arching pink tresses were magnificent to behold, and the size of them made her feel like a girl again. A girl hopelessly in love with her si—
 
“None of that. Not now,” she sighed, stepping out of the tent to try to clear her mind, which was foolish because it only brought back fresh memories of her childhood experimentation in the forest. No, everywhere she looked, it was simply another forgotten memory. 
 
* * *
 
A small indent in the grass, probably where a stag had laid down for the night, reminded her of when they had bedded together in one.
 
“Go easy,” Vereesa moaned, lying on her back with her legs weakly clasped around Sylvanas’ waist.
 
“Can’t help it, you’re too beautiful to control myself,” Sylvanas giggled, leaning down and kissing her sister deeply. Vereesa stiffened, her fingers curling and her young, almost cherubic face (for an Elf) breaking out in bliss as her sister’s huge cock pushed deep in her asshole.
 
* * *
 
Even as she looked up at Icecrown, distant but gigantic enough to be seen at this distance, she remembered their time together in Silvermoon City.
 
“I want you,” Sylvanas said, pushing her sister into a dark corner on the second floor of a mostly-empty bookstore.
 
“O-of course, but… here?” Vereesa murmured, placing her hand on Sylvanas’ chest.
 
“Here. Now,” Sylvanas breathed, sneaking her hand around her little sister’s thigh and lifting one leg up, then the other, her skirt tenting in the embrace of her lover.
 
“Sylvanas,” the girl moaned, their lips coming together once more as the pausing hand on her sister’s chest turned into a needy grope of her domme’s big breasts.
 
* * *
 
Sylvanas breathed slowly, rubbing her face with her hands. No matter how many times she went over the plans, it just wouldn’t click. The daymares were actually getting much, much worse. Why? Was it a disease that was progressing? Perhaps—although, it was certainly magical in nature: maybe she had gone physically closer to the source. For weeks her days were plagued by thoughts of Vereesa, memories of better times. At the end of a long day she collapsed into bed. She hadn’t been undead all that long, and the desire to sleep still clung to her mind. Others had assured her that the desire would pass in time. Sylvanas lay awake, staring at the roof of the tent, clutching thick blankets to her neck. Even this was automatic: her body cared not for the cold, but her mind did. She even found herself blinking from time to time. That was the strangest part—ever since she had come to Crystalsong, she had actually found herself engaging in a few more non-undead activities like that. She wondered if it was the memories; so vivid that they were tricking her body into thinking it was alive. She reached down and ran her hand over her cock, and she felt a single fleeting moment of activity as it twitched in her hand, then flopped back down. She sighed, and closed her eyes.
 
Immediately she knew that she would not sleep this night, and with a harassed sigh, she rolled out of bed and exited the camp. There was no work she could concentrate on, and she may be able to free her mind by freeing her body from its environs. She ran her hands over the gnarled bark of a tree as she passed.
 
An hour later, Sylvanas had grown bored. This in itself was distressing, as her undead form was not prone to boredom in the first place, and secondly she was a wood-elf for god’s sake, and she had spent years in the forest. Though most frequently hand-in-hand with her sister, her lover. Perhaps that was why she was so melancholic. She wandered deeper and deeper, the canopy slowly closing over her head as the old-growth became ancient-growth, and finally something primordial. There was a truly gigantic tree in the center of an open area. Its roots alone were as thick-around as any of the other trees nearby, and it had choked out most of the large growth there. It was almost like a clearing, but the canvass of the massive tree was absolute, and the pink crystal leaves still shone down an ethereal light despite the dead of night. Sylvanas approached it, then turned around and leaned back on one leg, crossing her arms under her chest. She had roamed so deep into the forest only to find reminder after reminder of Vereesa. And she had thought she would retire in a place like this? She would never find peace here. A shiver went down her spine as she realized… it was very much the fate of the undead that she would never find peace.
 
Her ears twitched. There was the faintest prickle of a presence nearby, and Sylvanas drew her bow with mythic speed, nocking an arrow and drawing the string. Her eyes widened as she saw an elf across the clearing in full battle-dress. No, more than that—an elf wearing Silvermoon Ranger-General armor of gold and blue and bronze, and a veil over her mouth and nose. “What!” Sylvanas shouted, loosing the arrow so that it landed directly between the General’s feet as a warning. “Who goes there?”
 
“Sylvanas Windrunner,” came an accusing female voice from behind that cloth veil. Her eyes glowed brighter than the trees. “I had hoped… though I did not expect…”
 
“What say you?” Sylvanas roared, nocking another arrow and pulling back. “This one will pierce your heart!”
 
“My my, so violent,” the elf said, her voice soothing, her hands still at her sides in a relaxed pose, the elf still somehow at peace. As if she knew she was in no danger. As if she knew Sylvanas would not fire. “Then again, I suppose I know something you don’t. Perhaps I would be as fierce in your position, did I not know the identity of the woman standing before me.” She reached up and pulled away the veil, shaking her head and letting her long hair cascade down over her shoulders. It was, of course, Vereesa Windrunner.
 
“I thought you were dead,” Sylvanas said, immediately dropping the bow, not consciously, but from weakness in her arms. “All of Silvermoon—”
 
“Not all,” Vereesa said, her face souring. “Despite your best efforts.”
 
“I was enslaved by Arthas!” Sylvanas screamed. “No amount of magic, might, or determination on my part could have broken that curse!”
 
“I understand. And yet,” Vereesa said, tilting her head to the side and looking away, sliding the bow from her back. “Debts must be paid.”
 
“I owe you nothing,” Sylvanas snarled, her chest rising for a moment before she roared and fired off a triple shot of magical arrows that buzzed like angry hornets through the air.
 
But the bow was in Vereesa’s hands, and she cast the same spell. With elvish perfection, her three arrows knocked Sylvanas’ trio from the air, completely cancelling it out. Sylvanas grunted in frustration and fired again and again, only to be deflected each time with the same ease. “I have been practicing, sister,” Vereesa said quietly. “And you have been rotting!” the force of the word was staggering and Sylvanas took a step backwards. It was true; her target was simply Vereesa. Vereesa had to flawlessly pinpoint the exact location of her sister’s missiles and intercept them, a night-impossible task. “You have been killing the innocent and wasting yourself in a way I thought you better than.” 
 
Sylvanas shrieked in fury and took a single step through the shadows that brought her the full distance to Vereesa’s side, striking out with a poisoned knife. Vereesa lifted her arm, turning away Sylvanas’ blade. Vereesa swung her leg wide, tripping Sylvanas onto her face. With elven grace, she ducked into a roll and came out of it to stand ready for Vereesa’s attack.
 
But none came. As before, Vereesa seemed almost completely unaware of her unless Sylvanas was attacking. Not just that, she was… actively ignoring her. Treating her with such casual disregard that bordered on spite, no, was indeed spite, even a cold hatred. Sylvanas felt a shiver pass down her back as she realized the look on her sister’s face. It was the look Vereesa had when was moving through fields of the fallen, collecting her arrows from slain undead. 
 
Sylvanas went stiff as she realized that Vereesa could have killed her a dozen times already. “What do you want,” she managed to whisper after a few moments.
 
“That’s better,” Vereesa said, deigning to glance in Sylvanas’ direction, but not into her eyes. Instead her gaze focused on her body. Her hips, her nude tummy, the armor clutching at her breasts. “I want what you want, I suspect: to be freed from our… daymares.”
 
“You have them too?” Sylvanas gasped.
 
“I began to get them, I suspect, as soon as your soul returned to your body. That you experienced them, as well, was simply a guess. In fact, it was the moment the first fit came upon me, I guessed that you had been reanimated.” A crude word meant to put the banshee in her place. But what hurt Sylvanas more (although she had not anticipated it) was not that crude word, but the one hidden in plain sight, “suffer.” Memories of Sylvanas pained her? Sylvanas bit her lip. And yet, she, too, “suffered” from them… it’s not right, not right! 
 
Vereesa narrowed her eyes. “More than that, these memories are not merely of our sisterly moments. They are of our trysts and dalliances. I believe Azeroth has given us the key to curing our… illness.”
 
“What?” Sylvanas gasped, paling even more than she already was. 
 
“I have not experienced even a single memory that wasn’t of our… couplings,” she said, then fixed Sylvanas with a cold glare. “I believe to couple once more may cure them.” After a moment, she prompted, “Sylvanas, it’s the only way, other than bloodshed.”
 
Sylvanas could hardly think of anything more embarrassing than exposing herself in front of her sister now that her “posterity” was little more than a finger between her legs. “Nonsense, you are addled,” Sylvanas said, waving her hand. But when she looked back up at her sister, her jaw dropped.
 
Vereesa had certainly grown into her manhood: she had freed her prick from her armor, and it was a sight to behold. Thick, veined, hanging down to her knees with a magnificent pair of balls that even Sylvanas at her prime would have envied. The entire package was heavily-mapped with pulsing veins, and the sweat and grime that clung to it glistened noticeably in the pinkish light of the magical trees far above. Clouds of musk clung to her cock in a thick fog. “Show me,” Vereesa ordered.
 
Sylvanas took another step back, suddenly overcome with emotion. Far more emotion than she had felt since Arthas had ripped her soul from her body: even her anger had been much of a mere display. This was terror, or something close to it. She felt her heart sink into her stomach, her eyes sting, her fingertips go numb.
 
“Show me!”
 
Sylvanas, now blushing, looked down at the loam that covered the forest floor, mouth half-open, uncertain of what to say or do.
 
“Pathetic,” Vereesa said, stepping towards her, her enormous meat swinging, slapping her thighs. Sylvanas felt her mouth water. She half-swallowed, and realized with a start that blushing and salivating were things her body hadn’t done since reanimation. Her knees went weak. Vereesa glared at her, totally aware of the inhuman things her sister had done in these last years. No matter. She could not kill her own sister, and… Sylvanas certainly had her own otherworldly beauty. As she closed to within arm’s length of Sylvanas, she whispered again, “Pathetic.”
 
Sylvanas lashed out in a moment of furious emotion, overtaken utterly. Her hand glowed with malicious energy, and she attempted to strike the woman’s neck, but Vereesa was in full control, and was faster, blocking the attack and delivering a severe blow to Sylvanas’ gut with her fist. The undead let out a cut-off groan of distress and almost doubled over, but Vereesa grabbed her throat with the hand that had blocked, and threw her down on the floor where she landed in a puff of loam, right on her ass. On her left and right were enormous tree-roots, blocking her exits.
 
“Show me,” she said once more, as she took slow, deliberate steps forward; one foot directly in front of the other, hips swaying.
 
Sylvanas, at her mercy, couldn’t look her in the eye as with shaking hands, she slowly reached down, unbuttoned herself, and revealed what was left. After a few long, slow seconds, Sylvanas finally managed to glance up at Vereesa.
 
The younger sister stood tall, sneering at the shriveled baby-corn her elder now possessed. It was rock-hard, barely two inches long with a set of balls bordering on fruit pits. It was covered with ugly little blue veins. The throbbing veins on Vereesa’s meat were thicker than Sylvanas’ whole cock!
 
Vereesa knelt, then began crawling forward between Sylvanas’ spread legs. “W-what are you doing,” the elder stammered, unable to escape for the bulk of the tree behind her. Wordlessly, Vereesa came face to face with her sister, her eyes burning with lust. “I’ve been dreaming of this moment for eight months,” she said eventually, and forced a deep kiss on her.
 
Sylvanas fought it, but Vereesa was stronger. Suddenly her tongue was in her mouth and Sylvanas tried to push her out with her own, only to find that Vereesa’s tongue was more dexterous and stronger than her own, forcing it to the flat of her mouth. Vereesa’s hands roughly grabbed at Sylvanas’ chest, her fingers digging into the sensitive flesh and making the woman cry out in discomfort. “Stop!” she mumbled through Vereesa’s tongue, and received a harsh slap on the cheek for her effort. It stung, and stung even more because it was from a woman she trusted. She felt her eyes fill with tears unbidden.
 
Once Vereesa had had her fill, she pulled away, standing tall over Sylvanas. “On your knees,” she ordered, pointing to the dirt.
 
“What?” she whispered, almost inaudibly.
 
“Get on your knees where you belong. How many times did you tell me that your cock was larger, so you deserved to be on top? Better dick wins? And how many times did I roll my eyes and go along with it?” Vereesa clucked her tongue. “Now the tables have turned. You will be my plaything today.”
 
And, without even thinking about it, Sylvanas found herself… obeying. Before she knew it, she was rising to her knees, putting her hands on the floor before her. Yes, this was the natural order. Vereesa’s logic was unassailable. Better dick wins. Then her sister was before her—Vereesa, a knowing smirk on her pink lips. “Worship me Sylvanas,” she said imperiously. 
 
“…Yes,” Sylvanas managed to reply, lips wobbling. She cursed at nothing. She’d never felt so weak.
 
Vereesa planted her cock on Sylvanas’ forehead, that girthy beast glistening with unwashed musk and so heavy it could barely stand up under its own power, especially with two magnificent cum-orbs dangling beneath, the intense sag speaking to their sheer weight. For Vereesa’s cock, a comfortable rest like Sylvanas’ face was perfect. 
 
Sylvanas soured as those sagging nuts hung down right in her face. It was a simply overpowering stench of shemale virility that singed her nostrils and made her eyes roll back. “I had hoped…” Vereesa said again, giggling slightly as she clenched her hands. “I made sure, you see? I made sure to make my cock just the way you used to have yours… only even better. I stopped shaving my groin, I didn’t wash, I haven’t even cum in eight months just on the hope I’d find you eventually.
 
With her hefty balls hanging down to her nose and mouth, Sylvanas felt her brain fog, trapped in her sister’s cloud of cockstink. The smell of sheer virility was overpowering, and Sylvanas felt a twitch in her dick like she hadn’t felt in months.  Automatically, without even thinking, she repeated the motions her sister had done to her so many times: she closed her eyes and opened her mouth, letting her tongue hang out and polish the underside of those beautiful globes. The taste of sweat was electric on her tongue, and it curled around to the back sides to get all of it inside her. Her balls were too big to ever fit in her mouth but Sylvanas dutifully licked, slurped, and cleaned until they were dripping spit instead of sweat. That tender tongue was inexperienced, but uncharacteristically eager to please even as her taste buds burned with the salty taste of her virile sweat.  
 
“Good,” Vereesa said harshly. “Maybe there’s hope for you yet.” She reached down and wrapped her thumb and finger around her cock, thwapping Sylvanas in the face over and over. With each repetition, the message was worked a little deeper. You. Are. A. Useless. Jizzrag! Your. Cock. Is. A. Worthless. Piece. Of. Meat. Vereesa didn’t have to say a word of it to bring the message through with startling clarity. Sylvanas felt her cheeks burn as she blushed furiously, and by the end she was moaning with every slap. Had she always been made for this? No, surely it was only these last few months that had turned her into this… It was practically the last vestige of sanity she could muster; that her life as a stud wasn’t a lie after all. Then again, she had no children to show for it even after all that. Now, it seemed… immature all of a sudden. Getting her dick wet with a dozen willing elven girls a night was… another life away. She was an adult now, and this is what she wanted. This was her place. Her confused brain struggled to make connections, to make sense of what was happening. 
 
This felt good, she couldn’t deny it to herself. She couldn’t even deny it to Vereesa as she sucked and tongued her balls. Maybe… she was a slut. Had been a slut all along. Here was this ashen-skinned woman, with big breasts and a tiny cock, on her knees, happily sucking her mistress’ dick… all the evidence added up. She moaned breathlessly as she took the other ball into her mouth and worshipped it properly. “Yes…” Vereesa chuckled, running her fingers through her sister’s hair. That hefty, healthy elf dick was utterly at home on Sylvanas’ face. “You make a good ball-polisher.
 
And then a naughty thought crossed Vereesa’s mind. “How many times did you order me to suck your foreskin?” she said warmly. “And on the other hand, you denied it from me. Well, today I get to find out what it feels like…” Sylvanas whimpered as Vereesa grabbed her by the hair and pushed her half-hard cock into her mouth, “…just how sweet the tongue of a bashful slut can be. Worship me, Sylvanas.” The woman narrowed her eyes for a moment, the aggressive words briefly triggering her instinct to fight… but then she took a deep breath and filled her lungs with the gorgeous stink of her sister’s cocksweat and melted once again. Sylvanas pursed her lips and smooched the rounded head, still covered in drooping foreskin, which she tickled with the tip of her tongue. Vereesa grunted her pleasure, and Sylvanas continued by gently teasing open her skin, sliding her tongue deeper, deeper, truly enjoying the way she could feel even the tiniest fold and crevice in the soft skin. What’s more, Vereesa’s foreskin was crusty as precum had built up and dried in the cracks, so Sylvanas was treated to many delicious bursts of sweet flavor as she uncovered them. “Ahh, that feels good~” Vereesa groaned, even having a laugh at Sylvanas’ expense. “It’s been months since I had a wash down there. Smells good, right?” and even she was surprised by the whorishness of Sylvanas’ moan in response. Her crinkled foreskin unfolded in her mouth, her cock flowering open as it grew thick and hard. She had thought Vereesa to be a shower… but she was a grower after all. Sylvanas’ eyes rolled back as her sister’s cock burgeoned inch after inch, forcing her jaw open and sliding down her throat all without moving a bit, simply inflating, hardening, throbbing in her throat. Then she felt Vereesa’s hands around her head, and let out an unhappy groan, knowing what came next.
 
Vereesa had already proven she was stronger, and she took great pleasure in using her strength to roughly force her sweat-slick cock down her sister’s throat. Sylvanas gagged, mascara running down her cheeks as pain blossomed through her neck. Vereesa used her cock like a bludgeon; it wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t pleasant, and for just a moment Sylvanas realized she had been no less cruel to her sister when she had raped her throat so many times. That thought was immediately crushed under the agony of sex with such a massive prick, and the shame of being her sister’s rapetoy. Vereesa’s meat mercilessly stretched that hole open, keeping Sylvanas not just on the back foot, but completely unable to breathe as her face went even more pale than normal.
 
Vereesa was brutal with her, fucking her face hard enough to bruise her cheeks as her tight throat was rammed open time and time and time again. It became raw, the pain exploding with every thrust. “Your throat—nnh!—makes a great—nnh!—onahole!” Vereesa grunted, her heavy balls slapping into Sylvanas’ face repeatedly. She hadn’t cum for eight months and she was sensitive as hell, which was the one thing that stopped Sylvanas from choking to death on her dick as Vereesa achieved her orgasm in a short amount of time. Her balls tightened, her cock pulsed, the veins thickened and the sneer on her face faded away to something orgasmic as her teeth sank into her ruby lower lip and she tilted her head back, no longer looking at Sylvanas, no longer having sex with Sylvanas, just a faceless wet hole she was free to abuse as much as she liked. The thought made her cum, and cum hard. 
 
Ropes of cum as thick as cables slammed into Sylvanas’ gut with the force of a hammer-blow, with a schlop noise that was so loud they could both hear it through her tummy. The pain renewed as Vereesa dumped her fat, sticky load into her sister’s stomach, crudely mating with her face as her balls gurgled and finally spewed what they’d been cooking for so long. Backed-up sludge gushed into her body in obscene quantity, off-yellow creamy fucktar more like expired milk than actual breedslime. Vereesa slapped her balls into her chin just a few… more… times… the pause between each thrust growing longer and longer. As thick, hot cum bubbled out of Sylvanas’ mouth and nose, she thought for a second that she actually might drown in cum, planting her hands on Vereesa’s thighs and pushing with all her might. Vereesa just laughed cruelly, grabbing Sylvanas’ head with renewed vigour and forcing her throbbing cock as deep as it would go one last time, grinding her balls on her chin even as her hot spunk poured out in a waterfall and smeared her nuts and her inner thighs. Pressed so close, Vereesa’s wiry pubes went up Sylvanas’ nose, and she gagged on the disgusting, unwashed, downright slimy taste of Vereesa’s meat, threatening to vomit up the gallon of cum that had just been pounded into her belly.
 
Vereesa’s meat pulled free with a wet, disgusting schlorp and a renewed waterfall of steaming shemale nut pouring out of her mouth and down her face, curling over her jawline and rolling down her throat, pooling in her breasts in a puddle of filth. Sylvanas fell like a bag of bricks, choking and gasping, eyes clenched tight as she coughed up thick nut from her throat onto the floor.
 
Vereesa spoke first; although winded by her orgasm, she was still in much better shape than her sister. Her cock hung between her legs, wet and satisfied for the moment but surely wanting more. Heavy teardrops of sperm drooled out of her gaping pink slit. “Don’t waste the gift I’ve given you,” she said, getting down on one knee and grabbing Sylvanas by the hair, forcing her face into the puddle of sperm on the ground. “You taught me that. Always swallow every drop your domme provides, right?”
 
Sylvanas let out a desperate, sad groan as cum went in her eyes, up her nose, and in one ear until Vereesa finally let go of her head. “You’re pathetic. You look better on your knees after all… I wonder what you look like on all fours!” she gasped suddenly, her eyes flashing with excitement. “Besides, I’m not even close to finished with you. Cumming in you felt so damn good… I might just keep you around as my personal sperm sewer even if these daymares go away.”
 
Sylvanas moaned as she was rolled onto her hands and knees, her stomach hanging low with a gallon of semen and her tiny cock still hard as diamonds between her legs. She heard herself slosh and winced. Just how full were Vereesa’s fucking balls!?
 
“Ah, look at this… a perfect little princess-pucker,” Vereesa cooed, running her thumb over Sylvanas’ pink, virgin hole. “Looks completely untouched… If I decide to keep you, we’re gonna turn this into a nice, fat, blown-out donut before long. That’s a promise,” she smirked. “But first I want a taste.” She lowered herself down and planted her face firmly between Sylvanas’ cheeks, closing her eyes and licking. Sylvanas squealed, her pucker clenching. It wasn’t unpleasant—far from it—and that scared her. Her whole life she’d been obsessed with being the best, being on top… and she’d been missing out on so much pleasure. For what? Self-assurance? Sylvanas threw her head back with a girlish moan as her sister’s tongue pressed in on her hole, making her toes curl and her dicklet throb. In seconds Vereesa was feverishly eating her out, messily and sloppily making out with her asshole, pushing her tongue in and lavishing spit on every inch she could reach. Once Sylvanas hung her head and began to shudder, Vereesa knew she’d reached her limit, and she pulled away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Looks like you aren’t completely numb. That’s good… I want this to hurt.”
 
Sylvanas clenched her eyes shut as Vereesa slammed her meat-log into the crack of her ass and started to saw it gently back and forth. Sylvanas’ spit had dried on it, but Vereesa’s sloppy kissing had lubed her hole up nicely. She laid both hands on Sylvanas’ hips and pressed her surging cockhead against her twitching hole, and pushed. 
 
Sylvanas’ back arched downwards and she let out an animalistic groan of distress. The virgin orifice stretched around Vereesa’s prick under the elf’s unnatural strength, and Vereesa pulled on her hips, yanking Sylvanas back onto her cock inch by difficult inch. She tried to fight it, but every inch made her muscles weaker as her body was suffused with pain and pleasure. Vereesa’s sledgehammer of a cock wasn’t even a third of the way in when her fat head pushed against Sylvanas’ prostate, pushing it harshly in the direction of motion. Vereesa’s cock completely filled Sylvanas’ asshole, its girth easily matching her sister’s internal width and making her feel like she was going to burst. Fresh tears spilled from her eyes as pain lanced through her body and the bulge of Vereesa’s cock pushed out of her underside. She pulled one hand back to rub the bulge, unable to believe what was happening. “So big…” she marveled, barely able to speak, breath stinking of pent-up cum, her eyes rolling back at the extreme musk like a cum-burp. Sylvanas’ ass eventually sword-swallowed her sister’s fat prick, her gut bulging, her mouth hanging open as drool and cum dribbled from her lower lip and her eyes remained unfocused and unseeing. Vereesa got to her feet, still crouching, determined to cram even more of her thick cock into that hard and unyielding asshole, determined to break it, make it her own.
 
And she actually felt the moment it happened. Like the moment she broke a hymen and the muscles tensed one last time, she felt it. Sylvanas’ asshole clenched harder than ever before, and then went loose and soft, unable to resist her anymore. A toothy grin erupted on her face and she started to fuck her, hard, with barely any lube but her own spit. Sylvanas’ pucker clung to her dick, pushing in when she did, snagging on her veins when she pulled out. The tender pink ring was already looking more like the blown-out fuckhole Vereesa intended it to be as it began to puff up and puff out, inflating like a mosquito bite, but all around. She’d broken something all right, especially judging by Sylvanas’ desperate moaning and clawing at the ground in front of her. She slapped the queen’s ass twice, nice and hard, leaving fingermarks on the reddening flesh. “Who do you belong to?” she said imperiously. “Whose fat fucking cock do you love raping your asshole open?”
 
“V-Vereesa,” she managed to gasp, her eyelids fluttering.
 
“Your cum-soaked body is all mine. You’re my cocksleeve from now until you die, understand?”
 
“Yes…” she moaned, unable to stop herself. This was the best sex she’d had in years, not to mention the sole emotional connection she’d had since she awoke as an undead. In this moment, she felt alive again. 
 
Vereesa could feel Sylvanas’ prostate against her cock. It was throbbing needfully, a good sign that the former banshee was reaching her orgasm. This couldn’t be allowed under any circumstances. Vereesa wrapped her hand around Sylvanas’ dick, gripping it forcefully, and stuffed the cockhole with her finger, making Sylvanas cry out in pain, but Vereesa felt her asshole clench too. “You will not cum ever again. With a pathetic cocklet like that, I can’t in good conscience allow you to spill your worthless cum.” She held Sylvanas’ cock as tightly as she could, slowly rocking her dick back and forth, a certain ridge rubbing repeatedly on her prostate, nudging it this way and that, the tender little button weakening with every movement. Her asshole was already blown open, her insides wrapped tightly around her ‘big’ sister’s fat prick, her organ under more and more stress with each passing second. Sylvanas felt it coming too, felt the throbbing deep in her asshole, and her mouth tried to form those shameful words. 
 
“Please don’t,” she said, but Vereesa tweaked her nipple with her free hand hard enough to make Sylvanas cry out just as her prostate popped. Blood and cum rolled down Vereesa’s shaft and Sylvanas’ eyebrows softened as one final weak orgasm rolled over her, her cum completely blocked by her sister’s finger, her balls simply distending very slightly as her orgasm was corked inside her. 
 
Vereesa’s dick slid out two inches, then slammed back in. Sylvanas fell forward onto her hands and knees again, sweat pouring down her face as she panted in glorious pleasure. She had no more orgasm to worry about, no more release to expect for the rest of her life, but she still basked in the mounting bliss of having her asshole destroyed. As Vereesa saw the hope leave Sylvanas, it added the pleasure of her older sister’s orgasm to her own as she came again, pumping liter after steaming liter into her asshole and up her body.
 
Sylvanas felt her ass fill, the gross wet noises echoing from inside her gut until suddenly her stomach began to inflate again, forcing her legs apart until it was almost touching the ground. She reared her head back and splurted, cum gushing from her mouth and onto her hands. It was thick, filthy, backed-up ballbatter and her body had no more room to store it. Her eyes rolled back as what should have been an orgasm rocked her body, but rather than the satisfaction and release of truly cumming, her pleasure stayed painfully high and didn’t decrease. She was trapped on the verge of cumming as if she’d suddenly stopped stroking on the moment before climax. She was unable to cum, the pleasure denied her, her cock hanging limp and soft between her legs once and for all as Vereesa’s unbelievably-virile shemale spunk poured in gallons from her mouth and soaked her front, all the while making her look incredibly pregnant and pathetic, just the way she’d left countless elven maidens. 
 
* * *
 
Sylvanas Windrunner moaned in mindless pleasure as her sister came inside her for the sixth time that day. Beads of cum dribbled from her mouth as she tried to keep it all down, but her gut was sagging.  
 
There was nothing remaining of the old Banshee Queen. For the last six months, she’d been essentially trapped, placed into the strongest bondage imaginable. A black mask over her eyes and nose, she hadn’t seen a thing in all that time. When she had the opportunity, she breathed through her mouth, which was infrequent as Vereesa had been very strict about occupying her mouth with something at all times. Whether that was the little sister’s thick cock, or the plastic throat-plug that snapped into place in the mask and kept her hole occupied and stretched for hours until Vereesa needed some more relief. She was undead, and didn’t need to breathe to stay alive after all. 
 
More than that, all of her limbs had been completely removed to make her a smaller package, a cute little fucknugget that sat comfortably into a custom-made suitcase. In this way, Vereesa could carry around her sister all she wanted like luggage, keeping Sylvanas in total darkness: unseeing, unhearing and all-but-unfeeling. Sylvanas was fed a diet of pure cum, either orally or anally she loved them both. Recently her cock had been removed entirely, a sexless piss-hole remained on her groin, and her bladder drained once every three days. She lived in a constant state of arousal, but unable to ever cum, she leaked lube from her asshole (which had been blown out into a soft pink donut that Vereesa continued to fuck frequently). 
 
When Vereesa was in combat, Sylvanas was placed on the outside of her sister’s armor, hanging from her chest. With her limbs removed, it was easy to replace them with straps that secured her in place, all the while impaled on the superior elf’s magnificent cock. And when Vereesa needed to piss, she was her sister’s urinal too. 
 
The torso that was Sylvanas moaned as Vereesa presented her ballsack to be worshipped, and with the greatest excitement and care, she began to tongue-bathe her sweaty nuts, clean the crust from her foreskin, and suck on her dick and balls until Vereesa tired of the attention. Sylvanas would never experience pleasure again now that her dick was removed, and she was totally dedicated to bringing Vereesa as much pleasure as possible instead. Her life, her body, literally wrapped around her cock.
 
The old life… She didn’t miss it at all. The violence, the hatred, the confusion. Now life was simple. Now she was nothing but a pretty little cocksleeve. Even better, she finally got to live out the life she wanted with her sister, although it wasn’t what she had once imagined. She was reduced to a nugget, a warm set of holes that kept her sister’s cum from overflowing. The hideous abuse simply fed into the next loop of arousal as her Stockholm syndrome grew and grew.
 
She was safe, she was home. This was her life, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.