Chapter 6 - Banshee's Game - Cousin's Womb [Alt - Vaginal/Gokkun]

Delicious piece of Banshee doll-meat fell onto the table; body so stained and stuffed, hitting the wooden counter with this muscled, carved out back, the sound of it all much heavier than anyone would expect it to be. Puffy lips spread to take a deep breath, allowing such a thing for the first time in a, subjectively, long while. 

Sylvanas clenched her hands and in the result ran the sharp nails across the table, scarring it gently as she took a mild rest. It wasn't easy nor was it clean, delicious or merciful on her maws but in the end she had won - there was nothing wrong about taking a bit of rest after a victory. 

Especially when your belly still felt absolutely full, when your skin still was sticky from all this seed; thick, draconic spunk that kept you pleasantly warm, in and out. She won it herself and whatever spilled, ended soothingly converging in her cleavage which - truth to be said - was far larger than she remembered it. 

Somewhere, across all this mess, two cards managed to fall between her breasts, sticking out alike trophies. Perhaps just simple markings of what came to be. After all, there was a lot of it. 

So victorious she lied, on top of the playing board.

It wasn't long till a slick hand reached towards the shining cards, softly engulfed in the thick whiteness and thus stained; grabbed their golden edges that were as if dipped into the saltiest drink there was. Purple fingers held by the yet clear corner and gently moved it into the gray cloth, slowly wiping it off the draconic gift. 

Moonlit eyes squinted contently as the spunk was gone, leaving nothing else but a shining surface of a fine image of a red dragoness. "So much for the draconic might." She purred out contently, standing between the spread legs of a spunk-fed banshee. "Even so…" Beast-breasted elf added as she soon wiped the second card and allowed it to fall into her sleeve. 

"... elves always did things by themselves." Tyrande declared, soon stroking this precum leaking, elven weapon with one hand and reaching towards Dark Lady's steel-clad underwear with the other, running her fingers across the purple fabric and denting it ever so softly, right before grabbing the metallic part with force.

But she didn't move forth just yet - least no more than her prick-stroking hand did, although that one eagerly went back every time, stroking the proper piece of elven cock meat. She waited for a moment, to some degree relishing in the sight of a Banshee who finally tasted dick and so in the most fitting amounts, ones that set just a few things straight between the two. But grudges weren't so easily solved or undone; the Queen of the Forsaken wasn't absolved of her sins with just a tiny bit of thick, dragon cum. 

Much more was needed. 

Lips of the Night Elf spread widely as her tool was growing in excitation; Master's Lodge was always ready for any kind of rematch and indeed, a lot of things lied prepared in store. Much like this time, often carried alongside the clatter of hooves and the sight of tightly covered busts that shook softly with every firm step. 

And between two bodies, blue as a blooming azure mists, it was carried; a massive piece of curved, carved boards put together, covered in these sturdy metallic hoops and with its contents, greatly heavy. Sylvanas tried to raise ever so softly from her back, rather vexed by her crotch feeling the tight grasp of Kaldorei hand. 

Yet she wouldn't get very high before this massive amount of liquid redemption was brought before the table and rested on its edges just for a moment, just so one of the draenei maidens could press Banshee's head back against the wooden counter. The Dark Lady didn't have much strength to object, least not till the massive barrel was put closer to her. 

One pair of draenei hands suddenly slipped into the mouth of the Dark Lady, unceremoniously grabbing her by both jaws and spreading wide open; just so the other barmaiden could grasp the container firmly and gently rise it, showing off the fine muscles in the process and thus, gently place the keg's spigot inside Sylvanas' spread maws, sealing its place. 

With confused but yet equally annoyed eyes she turned her eyes onto the very tap inside her mouth, just to then throw this gaze at both draenei and the barrel itself that nearly kissed her cheek. And it was hot, its contents definitely warm and perhaps fresh then - unless well aged and now merely reheated. 

"Sometimes we need to swallow our pride in order to atone for everything we've done, Banshee Queen." Tyrande purred out and got the spunk-stuffed Windrunner to look at her, all as elven hand ripped off the somewhat iconic underwear, revealing the immaculate - although soon to be tested - ladyparts or the Forsaken Queen herself. Ones that in fact have been running wet ever since their owner began to choke on sisterly pricks. 

Delicate finger fell into the line of her lower lips, tasting the wetness. Whisperwind's smile grew ever wider as this love-forsaken body hasn't forgotten its purpose even after such a long time of bitter existence. Polished nail shined and traveled to the side, to run against a plump thigh afterwards and then to go beneath it. 

"Sometimes we ought to swallow so much more." She added as she dug her hand into the dark flesh, finding that it lost nothing of its appeal and proving that even a Banshee Queen could be repurposed. Then this delicate leg meat was simply grabbed and pulled upwards, forcing it onto the bare, purple shoulder of the elf. For a moment she enjoyed the fact of Sylvanas' heels pointing upwards in the least gracious manner there could be - in a way that really left little to ponder about. Then she merely put the other leg up, ending just so deliciously between Windrunner's legs. 

And so the stilettos pointed upwards in a way that had only one message, only one indecent look to themselves; one that was to get better with movement that everyone could expect. And Priestess Whisperwind leaned forth, bending these legs forth as she moved over the valve-stuffed Banshee; her thick as the night, purple cock running alongside and sharing its throbbing warmth with the immaculate ladyparts of her opponent, staining the elune’s finest shaft with it’s juices. "And you Banshee Queen…" Slick hands reached towards the steel valve, grasping it with ever so juicy intent. "... will swallow the most." 

And she turned her wrist ever so softly, releasing the gentle stream of thick, draenei nectar, straight into the maws of the Dark Lady; all so she could watch as the scarlet eyes soon widened in some odd surprise or perhaps, just realization - awareness of what was to come. Moonlit eyes squinted in a most pleased answer, watching as banshee’s gaze bobbed back towards the tap, as if to stare at her own mouth; one that swiftly filled with milky contents and caused her cheeks to spread. 

“Tsk tsk tsk…” The night elf clicked with her tongue a few times, watching as a thin river of spunk suddenly escaped through the corner of stuffed maws. “Swallow.”

And this time the body of Lady Windrunner seemingly worked on her own and began to swallow against her will, perhaps in a mild shock as she was ready to care of draconic loads but this was different - not only her own muscles pushed all of this thick whiteness down her mouth in an instant but even more so, it wasn’t a part of the game. This was just draenei spunk, no different to some kind of lowly, equine release. 

But yet the loud gulp arrived and reached the Kaldorei ears alike the finest news; all to the wonderful sight of a sickened expression of a jizz-drinking Banshee Queen who suddenly had to feed on things that made Alexstrasza's load feel like water. This was thick, just alike melted glue, it stuck to her inner walls in a merciless manner; the only way to push it forth was just another portion of this bubbly, white mess. 

But the hand of lady Whisperwind turned further and further and hooved barmaidens watched as cum-bound ranger’s expression changed into this firm disagreement and then into mild helplessness as the spunk wouldn't stop flowing; escaping from the wooden jail where it lied stored for gods know how long and then filling her maws; the mouth that did swallow on its own. And as it soon turned out, lack of control over your own body did not mean you couldn't taste it all. And it tasted oozingly, thickly, no different to real horse release. 

"Oh yes." Tyrande purred out with the deep, content voice. "Keep swallowing it, Banshee Queen." She declared before moving back and with an excited rush of a kind, with this feeling of relishment from her opponent's helpless face, placing the fat tip of her throbbing tool right by the less busy lips of the ranger. "Swallow it whole…" 

She pushed forth, sliding this blessed length into the Forsaken Queen with a delicious, wet thud. "... and keep guzzling till there's nothing left. Do not let your mind have a tiniest bit of hope that you'll leave until it all awashes your belly from the inside."

Sylvanas arched ever so softly, the fat inches of Kaldorei meat pushing her inner walls aside without a slightest care in the world. The knocking on her womb carried on the force with which Tyrande moved, giving it a fine prelude of what great reshaping was about to take place. And so she pulled out of her by merely bending back, holding onto the plump legs of her newly acquired doll; showing the eager purple tool, adorned with strings of lady juices stretched away from freshly taken hole.

"Drink and choke upon it if you can't." 

And drinking was indeed said too much, with this thickness and consistency, with the mind-numbingly salty taste that could be a result of nothing else but proper cum élevage, it was closer to pushing caramel down your throat with just another portion of caramel. With the difference being the flavour - sweet was not something the Banshee was to taste any soon. 

And years of frustration was about to bear fruit, to be let out in renewed thrusts which left the entire table shaking. Queen of the Kaldorei dug her fingers into the plump thighs, buried them in the delicate flesh as she repeatedly slammed and smacked her equally impressive, queenly balls against the cum-pumped Windrunner. Ranger whose mind was now bound to only one action, the duty of guzzling cum of the hooved maidens; ladies who merely stared down at the mindlessly helpless face of their victim. 

Silently listening to the many gulps, watching as the Banshee's belly slowly grew, turning her into a cum-barrel of its own. Glowing eyes remained unwavering as massive, horse-like tools rested beneath the bar dresses, growing ever so softly. All while their owners remained composed, motionless, as if perfectly indifferent to the plight of force-fed, cum-drowning ranger. 

"I have waited for this." Tyrande purred out while echoingly slamming her tool into the Forsaken doll, rapidly and repeatedly. "Too many years." She closed the moonlit eyes as Sylvanas' nails kept running across the innocent tabletop, scarring it in the only response she could muster. 

Pale buttocks weren't as beastly massive as these of Whisperwind but still wiggled ever so pleasantly with every slam - and those came in plenty. And it would continue to the bliss of Tyrande, to the ever so rolling up eyes of the Banshee Queen and to her jiggling belly growing larger and larger to a point where heavy gallons of swallowed spunk couldn't be denied. 

And even then it would continue to a mad degree, where the Kaldorei tool breached the fallen womb and stretched it mercilessly. Left its mark upon its walls with the fat slab of royal, elven cock-meat; the same tool that now repaid Sylvanas' lower lips for all the years they weren't in proper use. Letting the whole tavern be aware - with the loud, wet pounding - that these insides would be pounded and prepared for one purpose.

The tightness was thoroughly removed, inner walls carefully but not mercifully spread as to not leave even an inch of love-flesh unviolated and most importantly, it was done not too swiftly, so that every tiniest bit of Dark Lady's former pride could be finely soaked and drowned in the most obscene of nectars. 

And only then, when Windrunner's consciousness was as good as gone, when her belly was stuffed to the last free inch and spunk began to escape from her maws and spill onto the table alike the thickest river, only then did Tyrande took a final, wide swing with her hips and slammed into her mind slave's lovely womb; clogged and swelled it with her own white nectar, stuffed this pair of lips, and everything that came with it, with another portion of oozing white.

"This is the judgment of the Kaldorei." She declared with this strong, iconic voice; preaching and thick with authority, much like her thighs were thick with delicate, ancient meat. "Banshee Queen will atone for her sins in any way we find fitting." Her voice resounded as she thrusted even deeper into the properly tenderized insides of her former cousin; her spunk leaking out in amounts proper. Whisperwind’s heavy, blessed by Elune, purple ballsack clenching up with each shot of her seed. 

"So says the voice of Elune." She added finally, slamming yet again into the Banshee and causing the innate pillows to bounce up and down with an according force; shaking not only the entire cum-filled body, but also the whole table - thus bringing the overflowing spunk to spill from once so proudly speaking maws, no different a wave crashing against a low cliff. 

With this last slam she waited till her balls were nothing short of entirely empty, just to then allow her fat piece of cock-meat to slide down and hang in all of its wet glory, still leaking some of her nectar. Not for all that long as hooved barmaidens swiftly took to cleaning it and ensuring of its spotlessness; same as they soon served the Kaldorei Queen a tiny piece of pastry, to let her teeth dig into the sweet snack.

"Bring her to the kitchen and clean up." She declared, bringing the sweet pie before her mouth. "Then put her in my room and bring bottles of the equine release. They will serve as snacks for our guest." 

"We have a Banshee Lap Bitch to train." She declared as pressed strawberries spilled from the other side of the pastry, right as she bitten into it. 

It was not the only leaking thing but certainly the only sweet one. 


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