'No wonder the people are so malcontent,' thought Sylvanas as she stepped out from the ironclad safety of Grommash Hold – her seat of power as warchief – and onto the streets of Orgrimmar. 'This whole city reeks like a pig farm. I'd be miserable too if I had to live here.' As a matter of fact, the smell of the Horde capital made her nostalgic for her own Undercity, but there was no going back after she had ordered it plagued to prevent an Alliance victory. Certainly the stinking sewers of her old home were no better, but at least she was used to it. Here, the wretched stench of Durotar assaulted her as violently as the sight of the green-skinned orcs that she had never truly considered her equals. 'The sooner I win this war and leave behind this miserable dump, the better.'
Unfortunately, Sylvanas knew there could be no victory so long as trouble brewed within the Horde. While the Fourth War waged on, there had been rumblings of discontent in the city. Many people accused Sylvanas – some more brazenly than others – of dishonoring the position of warchief. And while she certainly didn't give a damn what anyone thought of her, the sheer audacity and disloyalty of such rumors rankled Sylvanas. Of course, none of her own Forsaken ever dared whisper such a thing – they were loyal to their Banshee Queen until the bitter end. The orcs, tauren, and trolls on the other hand were a different matter. There were even some that dared suggested she abandoned Saurfang to the Alliance during the retreat. They were right, of course, but to say such things were treasonous in Sylvanas's eyes. If only she had all their names, she'd drag them through the streets and make an example of them alongside that meddlesome tauren, Baine.
Baine. Just thinking of the name alone made Sylvanas shiver with rage as she walked through the dusty roads of Orgrimmar, oblivious to the gawking stares of the citizenry. The loss of the great hero Saurfang had been a harsh blow to Horde morale, and Baine's recent imprisonment had only exacerbated matters. More voices had spoken out lately, forcing Sylvanas to take drastic measures to maintain order. Thankfully, she still had the unquestioning loyalty of Queen Talanji and her Zandalari, but everyone knew the possibility of another civil war was just on the horizon. If that happened before final victory over the Alliance… Well, Sylvanas would just have to make sure that never happened. At this point in her long reign, the Banshee Queen was no stranger to cracking down on unruly dissidents.
Quelling insurrection was thirsty work, and Sylvanas's trips to the city tavern were becoming more and more frequent lately. Typically she would just send one of her trusted dark rangers to deliver such indulgences to her throne room, but lately Sylvanas had begun to see the benefits of making herself more visible among the populace. It reminded them who was in charge when they saw their warchief walking about with her head held high, both piercing crimson eyes surveying her Horde. No doubt the grumblers felt bold while she remained sequestered within her keep, but once Sylvanas was out and about they always paid her the proper respect. As was such when she walked through the entryway of the tavern and immediately an orc wearing a tie ran up to her. "Welcome back, warchief! We have your usual table already prepared."
"Give it to someone else," muttered Sylvanas, barely even paying him any mind. "I wish to be served at the bar today."
The orc nervously looked over the aforementioned bar where a couple patrons were already several glasses deep in their liquor while under the watchful eye of the attending blood elf bartender. "Uhh, v-very well then. Right this way." The dutiful waiter escorted his warchief over to the row of seats, all of which were occupied. It took him less than a second to pick which one to remove for the elven VIP. "You there!" he said, tapping a lanky Darkspear troll on the shoulder. "Vacate your seat! It belongs to someone else."
"Ey mon, beat it!" The troll didn't even bother to turn around, just downed the rest of his ale as if nothing were out of the ordinary. "I got 'ere first!" But when Sylvanas loudly cleared her throat and he then decided to look over his shoulder, the troll's blue skin drained pale white. "Oh! W-warchief… I'm so sorry!"
Her glowing scarlet eyes narrowed. "I don't want your apology. I want your seat. Now!" The troll quickly jumped to his feet, only then revealing that he had at least a two feet height advantage over the Banshee Queen. But such a differential didn't matter compared to the sheer power imbalance between them. Sylvanas could rend him limb from limb with her dark magic – as well as everyone else in the tavern – without even blinking an eye, and they all knew it. Mumbling his most sincere apologies once more, the cowed Darkspear slinked out the door, and the victorious warchief took her rightful place at the bar counter with smug satisfaction. Because the truth was she didn't care where she sat, but Sylvanas had noticed immediately upon entering that the stools were all filled. That's why she wanted one; simply to deprive it from someone else and to flex her superiority over these hut-dwelling savages.
The sinister ploy had worked. Not a single person in the tavern wasn't looking her way or muttering among themselves about such a blatant abuse of authority. It was the sort of display that made the people of Orgrimmar despite her while at the same time reminded them of their own powerlessness. Any one of them could have chosen to stand up for the troll, but none dared lest they end up like the many soulless husks that have challenged her in years past. And even should they survive, they all knew of Sylvanas's infamous talent for holding a grudge.
And yet there were a few undercover citizens that had begun to make plans. Some time ago, after the madness in Darkshore, they had formed a small cabal of schemers united against their awful warchief. While their number equaled no more than eight, such a small close-knit group made it possible for them to evade all the Dark Lady's spies. Thus did their research into alchemy go unnoticed as they spent the last few months developing the perfect elixir capable of rendering Sylvanas helpless once imbibed. So too did their procurement of the necessary ingredients fly right under the loyalist's noses. The Banshee Queen and all her ilk were none the wiser as the schemers pulled the necessary strings to allow one of their own to gain employment at the warchief's favorite tavern as a bartender of no importance. After that, it was merely a game of patience, waiting for that perfect moment when she walked in during the conspirator's shift.
"Give me the usual," ordered Sylvanas. She didn't have to specific which drink; everyone working at the tavern was expected to have it committed to memory. And as expected, the smirking bartender grabbed an empty mug and filled it with a special brew that had been fermented specifically for the Forsaken and other undead to enjoy. During such time, Sylvanas scanned her gaze across the room, looking for any locals that she had previously noted as troublemakers. Perhaps if she had been paying attention, the warchief would have noticed her server adding another concoction to her glass at the last moment before setting the frothy mug in front of her. Sylvanas didn't even offer him a 'thank you' – one shouldn't be praised for simply doing their job after all. She just grabbed the handle and took a drink.
The effects, like with most alcoholic drinks, weren't immediate. It would take time for the potion to enter Sylvanas's system, and even then she likely wouldn't even notice something was wrong until provoked. And so the elven bartender did nothing, said nothing, as he continued to serve the other patrons at his bar. He just maintained that fake smile he always wore for his shift, no matter who sat before him.
Other than its intended poisonous effect, the elixir also enhanced the drink's alcoholic content, to the point where Sylvanas had only drank about half her beverage before she started to feel the old liquid courage run through her lifeless veins. It reminded her of those old nostalgic days drinking with the other rangers of Silvermoon, how they'd call her a lightweight due to her more slender body, and she'd endeavor to prove them wrong with shot after shot after shot. Those nights never ended well, and the morning always arrived with a reckoning, but now things were different. Now she was warchief and didn't have to prove anything to anybody. However, since she was drunk on both booze and her own self-importance, it certainly couldn't hurt to give everyone a reminder, she reasoned.
Her dark eyes scanned across the bar. No one was looking in her direction, but Sylvanas knew she had the whole room's attention. Idle chatter had died down to a mute whisper since she had made her entrance, and now everyone was just waiting with bated breath to see what the Banshee Queen would do next. She most certainly didn't want to disappoint them. Grabbing her nearly-depleted mug, Sylvanas rose to her feet and raised the glass. "To the Horde!" she shouted.
Nearly every single patron in the bar raised their drink to follow their warchief's toast, echoing back "To the Horde!" in unison. Nearly everyone. As they did so, Sylvanas was already looking for any outliers, and she found one in a surly-looking troll – a Darkspear like the one whose seat she had stolen – sitting alone against the far wall. Having found an example to be made, the devious elf quickly threw back the last of her drink, slammed the empty glass onto the countertop, and sauntered over in his direction. "I noticed you didn't join us," she said with a smug, wicked smirk.
The troll looked up at her from his seat then mockingly raised his drink. "Aye, my apologies. To the Horde," he said with as little enthusiasm as possible.
Sylvanas's lips split into an even wider grin. Finally, it was just the excuse she needed. "Such lack of enthusiasm… It's concerning."
"Ya mon," he said, still meeting her eyes with his own hard gaze. "Not much ta be enthusiastic about lately, don't ya think?"
With a sigh, Sylvanas turned to address the rest of the room. "Such a pity to see a startling lack of spirit from one of our own. While his brothers and sisters fight and die – for the Horde! – on distant lands… This one disgraces their deeds."
That struck a chord within the troll, and a quiet fury welled up inside him. Carefully, he set down his drink and stood up from his seat. He too towered over the elf, but no one watching the confrontation thought he had the advantage. "Me? No… I'm not da disgrace here," he said, his voice low. The troll knew he was crossing a line of no return, but better to die with honor than allow his honor to be publicly sullied. "You be da disgrace here."
Sylvanas's glowing eyes shone even brighter with wicked glee. It had been far too long since she personally taught a lesson with her own hands, and she was definitely going to enjoy this one. "The Horde has no place for cowardice," she declared loudly for all to hear. Then she held her hands outward, palms turned to face him, and in a singular moment unleashed all her wrath upon him. Black tendrils of magic surged forth from her undead form and slammed into the troll with the might of a locomotive.
Or rather, that's what should have happened. Instead, when Sylvanas bid her energies forward, nothing happened. She stood there, perplexed, and attempted the spell again. Still nothing. Likewise, the troll gaped at her dumbfounded, shocking that he was even still standing on solid ground, but as those long seconds ticked by and the entire room realized that nothing had happened, the excitement in the air turned against Sylvanas. Voices erupted all around, questioning what they just saw and offering all sorts of plausible theories. But for the troll standing before her, he now wore the confident grin that had suddenly vanished from the warchief's lips. "Well, ain't dis a surprise?" he asked as he advanced toward her slowly. His tall shadow fell over her much smaller elven body. "Not so tough now, are ya?"
Sylvanas made one last gambit, one which had fallen out of favor due to her reliance on magic but still came as naturally as breathing. Faster than a normal eye could blink, her hand grabbed the dagger at her hip and slashed upward at his face. It might have worked against anyone else, but trolls possessed a generational instinct against their racial enemy. He knew exactly how to anticipate a desperate elf, and his three-fingered hand caught her by the wrist. With the sudden absence of her spells, so too did she find her supernatural strength missing. "Let go!" hissed Sylvanas.
"I think not." With his own quickness, the blue-skinned troll spun Sylvanas around, wrenched her arm behind her back, and slammed the powerless warchief face-down onto a nearby table. She sputtered, momentarily stunned by the force, and didn't even notice when he kicked her feet wide apart. The pinned elf's struggles continued until suddenly she felt a warm bulge press against her backside, which could clearly only be one thing. "I like ya better dis way," said the troll as he grinded his crotched into her. "Anybody else agree?"
The Dark Lady was immediately reminded of the rest of the bar, and her head tilted sideways so that she could get a good look at them all from her awkward angle. Their table was surrounded on all sides by so many people that Sylvanas couldn't even see the far walls through the thicket of their bodies. But what she could see were the sneering grins and hungry looks in their eyes like that of ravenous predators. The warchief, who had for too long taken advantage of the Horde's good-will, had no allies here. "Make that bitch pay!" said a voice in the crowd, followed by a cheer of agreement that shook the very foundations of the building.
The troll didn't need to be told twice. Already, Sylvanas's keen elven ears could pick up the telltale jingle of an unfastening belt buckle, and she shivered with disgust when the full length of a raw, naked troll cock slapped upon her tailbone. Thankfully she still wore the leather armor that shielded her from skin-on-skin contact, but that wouldn't last long. Soon after freeing himself, the troll went straight to work doing the same for her tantalizing derriere. Sylvanas tried once more to push him off as his fingers peeled away her clothing, but by then a few helpful volunteers from the crowd had stepped forward to hold her down more securely while their Horde brother helped himself. Strong orc and tauren hands gripped her shoulders and pressed down on her back while also mockingly stroking her pale blonde hair. "Yeah, keep struggling," one of them whispered into her ear. "You elves are always tighter when you fight back."
A rare sensation – fear – was starting to sink in as Sylvanas realized she wasn't getting out of this situation any time soon. And even if her royal guards did happen to come investigate after she failed to return, they wouldn't arrive in time to prevent the violation of her body. "Stop this at once!" commanded the Banshee Queen, still acting as though she had any semblance of power still. "Let me go this instant, or I'll have you all executed. Publicly!" she added, as though it might make a difference.
It didn't. Instead, the bar patrons just laughed at her. Rather than make any attempt to free her, some of the bystanders even whipped out their own cocks and started to play with themselves at the sight of their warchief's comeuppance. And when Sylvanas twisted her head just enough, she could see a line beginning to form behind the troll. They were already making plans to turn this into a very long night of fun for them and punishment for her.
By then, the troll had managed to tear off enough of his toy's armor to reveal her perky blue butt, plump pussy lips, and soft thighs. Her high heeled boots stayed on, mostly because the extra height helped tilt her hips at the perfect angle for rear entry, which the troll was quick to demonstrate by pushing his cockhead into her cunt. The audible squish of her folds parting for the first few inches of cock caused another roar of approval from the crowd, and the troll was emboldened to push forward until his abs met her cheeks. And the following gasp and wide-eyed shock from Sylvanas told everyone plain and clear that his tip was deep enough to press right against her cervix.
"Surprisingly warm," grunted the troll. His fingers were busy kneading her asscheeks like dough while he lingered to enjoy the elf's plush walls quiver around his shaft. "Thought ya'd be cold as Northrend on da inside, but ya just like any otha' hole." He gave her a hard thrust just to drill the point home, delivering a loud thwap when he beat her cheeks with his stomach.
Sylvanas couldn't help the small "eep!" that escaped her lips when he crashed against her womb again, but she quickly attempted to recover with a threat. "You p-pig! I'll rip your balls off and feed them to my hoooooounds!!" She wasn't even given the chance to finish before his cock slammed into her pussy again and made her howl. As it turns out, he was right about one thing: Sylvanas was like any other elven hole. The troll was so big and her elf body so tiny and perfect for breaking. Though he had gone in dry, already her cunt was beginning to moisten from the pleasure forced upon her. Sylvanas's legs were trembling now, weakening as each follow-up thrust made her cry out shamefully. And the effect certainly wasn't lost on the audience. Coin had begun to change hands and bets were being made as to how quickly the Banshee Queen would submit to her conqueror. It wasn't a matter of if but when.
But while everyone else was preoccupied with Sylvanas's strained face and rolling eyes, the troll himself was focused only on bringing himself to a swift finish. The opportunity to creampie the Dark Lady herself was the chance of a lifetime, and he couldn't wait to find out if she could be bred like all the other sluts of Silvermoon. "Here comes ya half-breed," he declared with a chuckle.
"No!" yelled Sylvanas. She herself didn't know if it were possible, but she wasn't keen to find out. "Don't you dare! Your tusks will adorn my throne for this!"
The troll just shook his head at her pathetic threat. "Not catchin' on, are ya? There's no warchief here. Just anotha' whore elf that needs ta be taught her place. So if I want ya to take my load… Then. You. Will. Take it!" He punctuated his final words with the hardest thrusts yet, scrambling Sylvanas's brains and tenderizing her cunt just before the first blast of spunk nailed the center bullseye of her cervix. Then he held there, hips flush against her backside, so that every last drop could stuff and stretch her womb like a balloon. And though it was but a brief reprieve from the pleasure that clouded her mind, Sylvanas was helpless to do anything but groan with disgust and dig her nails into the wooden table. Already she could feel his virile invaders seeking out her dormant ovaries to see if they were still of any use. And only when his balls had nothing left to give – at least for the time being – did he finally withdraw and allow the excess to dribble from her gaped, distended lips.
For her part, Sylvanas just lay slumped atop the table, cheek pressed into the surface as she struggled to process her defeat. To have fallen so far and so quickly as to become a troll's cumdump, it was inconceivable to the haughty queen. But Sylvanas was quickly snapped out of her contemplation when she felt the troll slap his flaccid cock against her ass just so a few droplets could flick from his tip and splattered onto her lower back. "Consider dis a lesson in humility," he said with a laugh before stepping away. "Now, who be next?"
His question sent a shiver down Sylvanas's spine, knowing that they were only getting started with her. She didn't even dare look back and grant her next rapist the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence, but she felt his hard cock drag along her sore pussy lips all the same. Orc, tauren, another troll, it didn't matter. All Sylvanas knew was that he was huge, and that within moments she'd be panting and squirming once more. She shut her eyes to block him out and bit down hard on her lip in an attempt to keep her silence, but it was ultimately futile. When he thrust balls-deep, aided by the previous creampie and her own now-present juices, Sylvanas moaned like a whore.
"You see? She's starting to like it," said a gruff orcish voice from behind. "All elves are the same. Once you start to loosen them up, their inner sluts come out."
Sylvanas hissed at him. Though her body still felt weakened by her orgasm, the inner fire that fed her undying hatred flared. "You bastard. When I get out of this, I'm going to – Ahh!"
The orc quickly grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked hard, pulling her head so far back that her neck could almost snap. "Shut up," he growled while slamming into her pussy with enough force to rock the table. His heavy balls swung low like a pendulum and beat against her soft thighs, bruising them from the weight of impact. The orc was far more rough with Sylvanas than the troll – perhaps owing to some racial tensions that stemmed from an elf having the audacity to become his warchief – and his abuse of her lithe body only added to his pleasure. His lips curled into a smile as Sylvanas's cries rang out, filled more with angst than pleasure. "Finally… Right where you belong."
Thunderous clapping noises rang out from the violence of their coupling. The Dark Lady's juicy cunt, unaccustomed to such girth and fury, loudly squelched each time the orcish cock barreled straight through her core. And each time his tip bludgeoned her cervix, a fresh spritz of elven arousal gushed around his cock. Pinned between the table and over 300 pounds of muscle, Sylvanas could do nothing but howl wretchedly and do her best to endure the savage rutting. She tried to focus upon that searing rage she felt toward her rapist and all the others watching, but even than couldn't help much as waves of pleasure assaulted her mind. Just as the troll had broken her down before, soon she was panting and cumming nonstop with her tongue out, eyes crossed. And with her tightness milking him, the orc was quick to plant his seed deep within his defiled warchief.
When he walked away, the sight of two thick creampies dripping from Sylvanas's ruined pussy sent the rest of the crowd into a frenzy. They pushed and shoved for the right to take up position behind the stunned banshee, and it was only through the efforts of the tavern's staff that order was restored. But a precedent had been set, and now they only had to wait for a chance to satisfy themselves with the free use cocksleeve. Sylvanas was soon filled by a third cock, then a fourth, then a fifth and sixth, and so on as the minutes melted away and the only way she could reliably count the passage of time was by the number of men who soiled her womb with their seed. And as she climaxed along with them, Sylvanas could feel more energy drain from her body.
She didn't even have the strength to push them off her. Elves after all were built for agility, to ensure their opponents never managed to catch them. Not so useful when they were already caught. Strong, monstrous hands from all directions caressed every inch of her naked body, not just to sate their lust while they waited to get inside her body but also to remind Sylvanas that she wasn't going anywhere. "G-get it over with!" she snarled as the umpteenth cock pushed inside. If these men were determined to violate her body, there was nothing that said Sylvanas had to hold her tongue, at least whenever she wasn't squealing like a sow. But no matter how much she spit and cursed, the men just laughed at her impotence.
The sordid fuckfest went on for some time, and then the entire mood of the room changed when a giant tauren stepped forward to take his turn. But rather than go straight for her cunt like the others had, he hesitated. Her pussy was a mess, now more red than blue from all the frictional abuse visited upon it, and he spread apart her folds with his thumb to inspect the damage. "Surprised you're still tight," he mused, sticking a thick finger up inside. Sylvanas stiffened and moaned as he dug deeper. The digit was nearly large enough to rival the dick size of his comrades, which meant his cock would absolutely destroy her.
But Sylvanas wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of her fear. "Do it, you bastard."
He just chuckled. "Gladly, though I'm not just thinking of myself." He pulled out his finger with a loud pop, wiped the cum off on her hair, and took a step back. "And you've rested long enough down there." Before Sylvanas could utter her next question, he grabbed her slender waist and lifted the elf up in the air like she weighed nothing, which spoke to the immense size and power difference between them. The other Horde shouted in disappointment when he made his move, but the tauren was quick to silence them. "Patience, my friends. We'll all get our chance to ruin the bitch. But there are some of us who are less fortunate than others." Speaking to his gentle race's well-known benevolent and kindly nature, he nodded downward, and that's when Sylvanas noticed for the first time that there were goblins among the crowd, their heads barely rising above the table upon which she had just been chain-fucked, who had been patiently waiting their turn.
While Sylvanas's pleasure-frazzled mind sought to put together the pieces of the tauren's plan, he was already folding her up in a more suitable position. Cheer rose once again from the crowd when they saw him hook his arms underneath her legs then reach up to clasp his hands together behind her head. Twisted up in such a way, the fallen warchief's gorgeous body was on fully display to everyone, most especially her dripping, creampie-packed pussy. Knees pinned to her shoulders, boots pointed toward the ceiling, even without the tauren's insurmountable strength Sylvanas couldn't possibly hope to struggle out of such a hold. She was fully locked in-place.
"Put me down," hissed Sylvanas. And though she knew he wouldn't comply, the Dark Lady had hopes that perhaps this muscle-head might be more amenable to negotiation. After all, he hadn't immediately gone straight to pummeling her cervix like so many of his comrades, so she wondered if he'd be open to a bargain. "Free me," she whispered just barely above a whisper so that only he could hear. "Get me out of this vile place, and I'll see to it you are rewarded. All the riches you could imagine… Yours!"
But the tauren just chuckled in response, more amused by her sorry attempt rather than offended. "Sorry to disappoint. Baine may not have done much to earn my respect, but I would have walked to the ends of Azeroth and back for his father. Cairne's kin is my kin." He tightened his grips on the back of her head, just to make clear his stance. "But since you're being so accommodating… I hope you don't mind keeping my cock warm for me while I help out our little friends." Then without waiting for her answer, the tauren thrust his mighty bitch-breaker of a dick straight up Sylvanas's ass. The tauren huffed into her wilted ears – somewhat surprised at just how cushy and welcoming the banshee's anus felt – as she wretchedly screamed at the top of her lungs. "No objections? Good." He didn't move, didn't even thrust. He simply kept himself buried to the hilt within the elf's asshole just to, like he said, keep himself warm and cozy.
For Sylvanas, who always thought herself too high-class to ever entertain anal sex, to not only lose her anal virginity in such a crude fashion but also to a cock of such amazing size was stupefying to say the least. Her mouth hung open in one long, unending silent scream as her inner bowels spasmed and clenched in a poor attempt to violently expel the invader. But the tauren cock was so far up her ass that Sylvanas knew another inch more and it'd be tapping against her spine, and the sheer weight of it anchored her lithe body to his much larger form in a more secure fashion than the full nelson ever could. The added pressure from within caused her organs to compress, and all the accumulated cum packed inside her womb started to spray out with all the force of a geyser, much to the enjoyment of the watching audience. Her blue thighs, already caked with sweat and pussy juice, were splattered by the expelled cum. Already mortified beyond belief, all Sylvanas do was shut her eyes tight and block out the humiliation of her own body making a mockery of her dignity.
Yet through it all, the perverse show did nothing to dissuade the trio of goblins who stepped forward. They already had their pants off and were jerking themselves just to maintain their erections while they argued over who should go first. Only when she hear the obnoxious scrapping of a chair's legs across the floor as it was brought over to assist the winner in reaching her did Sylvanas finally open her eyes and look upon her next partner with disdain. Of course the Banshee Queen had never seen a goblin cock – nor ever desire to see one – so the actual size of it caught her entirely by surprise. The green member was nearly a fourth of his body length with an impressive girth to match. Like most elves, Sylvanas considered the goblin race to be a joke, yet their dicks were anything but. And when the lucky goblin hopped up on the chair and slapped his cockhead against her puffy, sticky folds, she let loose a fresh tirade of death threats.
"Don't you dare stick that ugly thing inside me! I'll see your entire lineage scoured from this world! Every last one of you!"
"Aw yeah, keep 'em coming, toots," he said, undeterred. "Nothing gets a goblin going quite like the thrill of imminent death!" The goblin licked his lips hungrily as he slipped his tip inside and prepared to thrust. "Though usually by explosion, but you don't see me complaining!" Then he pushed inside and made the banshee howl.
Trapped as she was in the tauren's grasp – and skewered upon his cock – Sylvanas was going nowhere fast as the green cock started to hammer against her newly-evacuated womb, which surely wouldn't be empty for much longer. He thrust with urgency, perhaps due to an ingrained survival instinct of a small male getting a chance to breed a much larger and more deadly female, but also because her elven cunt just felt so good that he couldn't help but go full throttle from the onset. Sylvanas's pussy was so wet, so warm, so tight, so soft that he simply couldn't believe it belonged to the cold-hearted, undead bitch. But it did, he was inside her, and he couldn't wait to empty his balls and go home to brag to all his friends. No one would ever believe that such a lowly goblin had busted a nut inside the great Sylvanas Windrunner, and it was all thanks to assistance of his tauren friend. Truly, the Horde looked out for its own.
"Damn, I'm about to blow harder than a DX-32 Dematerializer." The goblin licked his lips hungrily as he watched her blue breasts jiggle to the tempo of his thrusts. He'd give anything to have his cock buried in her chest, wrapped up in the softness of her titflesh, but there was a queue lined up behind him still. For now, he'd just have to consider himself lucky enough to be fucking her cunt, which about to become a lot messier. "Here it comes!" he declared, grabbing hold of Sylvanas's firm thighs to steady himself for the finale.
As soon as the sticky breeding gunk smacked against her cervix, Sylvanas wailed in despair. Not just from the shame of being the despicable creature's cumdump but also herself orgasming from the abuse. "Nooooo!" he howled as her dull red eyes rolled back. Yet as more and more goblin spunk poured in to fill her like a reservoir, Sylvanas clenched her jaw and rode out the intense pleasure wracking her body. 'I won't give this scum the satisfaction of breaking me!' She knew she was close – so very close – to that point of no return when her strong mind would collapse and surrender just as her body did, but her elven pride would not allow it to happen with a goblin of all things. So even as she came wretchedly, her pussy milking more cum from the green cock buried within her, Sylvanas held fast.
Yet while Sylvanas was engaged in the most important battle of her lifetime, the goblin was completely oblivious. With his dick wet and balls empty, he was content. "Pump 'em and dump 'em!" laughed the goblin victoriously, giving her blue titties a rough smack for good measure. He lingered just long enough to watch them stop jiggling before jumping off the chair to make room for the next of his shortstack kin.
Sylvanas steeled herself when another goblin took his place, but her composure broke when he scooted over to make room for another. "What's the meaning of this?!" she demanded as two goblins – not just one – unzipped and took turns smacking their turgid erections against her runny cunt-lips.
"What's it look like?" said one, offended that she'd even ask such a stupid question. "My bro and I do everything together! And since one of yer holes is already occupied…" He frowned at the tauren cock that was still unflinchingly imbedded within Sylvanas's stretched anus. "You ready?"
The Banshee Queen shook her head frantically, but obviously he wasn't talking to her. "You betcha!" said the second goblin. Together, they firmly gripped the base of their shafts and – with the sort of synchronization that was clearly practiced – thrust toward her snatch. Sylvanas watched in horror as her poor pussy struggled to keep them both at bay, only to immediately capitulate and stretch to fit their girth. She threw her head back, thumping it against the tauren's chest, and screamed a curse upon all goblin-kind. But no matter how much Sylvanas yelled, both cocks steadily sank into her regardless. She could feel her perfect elven pussy pushed past its limits, breaking upon goblin cock, then rebuilding itself to be the best sleeve possible for them, and she hated every second of it. But not nearly as much as she loathed the electric sensation of ecstasy she could also feel building in her core.
It all came to a head when they began to move. Even before her womanhood had the chance to adapt, the goblins thrust away at their banshee fucktoy, their eyes glued to the sorry sight of her quivering wet folds. The two cocks sawed in and out together at first, just to forcefully pry open Sylvanas a bit more, but then they swapped to a more leisurely pace where one would thrust in just as another pulled out. This way they could go harder, clapping their hips against Sylvanas's body, as they recklessly sought their own pleasure. And to help them along, each goblin had their own bouncing tit to enjoy. They leaned forward, wrapped their lips around a dusky purple nipple, and sucked at her like twin newborns as they humped away. Her flawless body existed solely for them to ravage.
The added pleasure on her chest joined with the sensation between her hips made Sylvanas moan miserably. Her eyes tried to glare angrily at the goblins but only succeeded in crossing lewdly as her mouth hung open, panting. Sylvanas wanted to spit more insults or promise retribution – anything to make the watching audience think she wasn't breaking on goblin cock – but instead found she could do nothing as a sudden orgasm drained her body of all remaining stamina. Even without needing the warm splash of seed within her womb to urge her onward, the pleasure-stricken elf climaxed of her own accord. Her eyes rolled back once more and this time her tongue rolled out to fully hang as a flag of submission.
Faced with such a sight, the goblins couldn't help but cum immediately, and they thrust forward together as deeply as they could fit and decorated Sylvanas's formerly-tight tunnel with waves upon waves of greasy seed. As the sticky stuff clung to her inner walls, the fallen warchief came again and again with each fresh spurt, forcing her entire body to convulse from head to toe, and unknowingly dragging her even deeper into further ruination.
The tauren behind her grunted, his nostrils flaring as he huffed through the exquisite torture of her anal walls clamped down around his own shaft, similarly to how her cunt treated the goblins. With his stoic composure broken, he bellowed his own release with a deep mooing and pulled Sylvanas even tighter against his furry body as he pumped an ungodly amount of cum up her bowels. The searing heat of his emission mingled with the warmth creeping into her womb and sent the Banshee Queen spiraling deeper in maddening bliss. Sylvanas squealed nearly loud enough to break his eardrums, but the tauren held firm and devoted himself to baptizing the warchief's ass with his seed. Even when the goblins finished with her and walked off, he kept himself plugged up inside Sylvanas for another full minute just to make sure her remodeled bowels soaked up every last drop.
For Sylvanas, nothing existed before the muddled haze of her own bliss. She hung limply in the tauren's full nelson, not even possessing enough muscle strength to stop her ravaged, gaped snatch from freely leaking all over the floor. Which is why she was completely caught unprepared when she was uncaringly dumped her into that puddle of her own making, slumped over on all-fours with her forehead planted in a half-inch of cum. She was only "rescued" when a strong hand grabbed her white hair and yanked her up to her knees. Slowly, as self-awareness returned to her scattered mind, Sylvanas noticed the circle of cocks closing in around her, trapping her in. "Stop… stop this…" she pleaded, her voice hoarse from so much screaming. "No more… Please, I'll do anything…"
"You'll suck this cock is what you'll do." Sylvanas didn't even get a chance to look in the voice's direction. She a tug of hair pulled tightly against her scalp, and then a cock was thrust down her throat. Her tear-filled eyes widened as her head was jerked back and forth like an instrument for his own pleasure, and she looked upward just to see who it was that dared treat her so disrespectfully: an orc. But there was no risk in deepthroating the broken queen, no fear of retribution, and everyone knew it. She was battered, bruised, and broken; not just physically but in mind and spirit as well. Sylvanas could cry, beg, and threaten all she'd like, but in the end she would still be their cum receptacle no matter what.
A cold fact he impressed upon Sylvanas by forcing her all the way down until his balls warmed her chin just so he could blow a fat, creamy load down her throat. She tried to scream, but the effort only tightened her esophagus around his shaft and drew forth more cum. The orc didn't even wait for his orgasm to finish before wrenching himself free and spewing the last few ropes across her pretty face, layering white spunk atop the permanent black tears that ran down both cheeks. It was a good look for her, and one they all hoped she would wear frequently from now on.
Without given time to recover, Sylvanas was pulled in another direction and orally impaled upon another cock, this time a light blue. But she didn't even get to look up at its owner before two hands settled atop her head, simply to hold her in-place as he thrust his hips against her mouth. The brutal face-fuck produced a harsh, lurid glrrk-grack from the overworked elf's throat, and dredged-up spit cascaded from her lips, down her chin, and splattered upon the wooden floor. Even without the need to breathe, Sylvanas felt taxed, pushed to the limits of her endurance by the enormous cock bulging her elegant swan-like neck. Her breasts swung freely, rocked to and fro by the punishing pace from above, all while her pussy and ass continued to leak cum that contributed to the ever-growing puddle between her knees.
And every time his set of balls slapped against her chin, the tips of Sylvanas's elven ears twitched on command. Down below, unseen by all, her pussy similarly twitched as well and expelled a spray of arousal. Without even knowing, they were remolding Sylvanas, training her into the best cocksleeve she could be. Whenever the cock would fully drive itself downward, her body would response by triggering a rewarding tingle of pleasure. It started small then grew bigger and bigger in the pit of her belly to match the subtle throbbing of flesh upon her tongue. So that when he came, the Banshee Queen came as well. No sooner when his dick twitched and shot the first rope did Sylvanas's thighs clench and shudder. Her moans vibrated around his shaft just to let him know how far she had fallen.
Another sudden climax meant another gooey meal for Sylvanas, who wasn't even given the choice to swallow it or not. The cock fully sheathed itself in her throat and fed the content of his hefty nuts directly into her half-full stomach. Through it all, he kept pumping just to use her throat as a tool for milking out every last drop, and it did its job perfectly. Sylvanas chugged and chugged and chugged some more until her entire world became nothing but drinking his cum, and for a moment it felt as though she'd be stuck there for an eternity doing just that. But eventually – just when it felt as though her stomach had reached max capacity – his orgasm ceased as quickly as it began. He pulled back, leaving Sylvanas to gasp and heave with leftover cum sliding off her tongue.
Two new cocks – perhaps inspired by the goblin teamwork they witnessed before – pushed in toward Sylvanas's face, each one tapping against a cheek before aiming toward her trembling lips. "Let give this whore's throat a workout that she'll never forget," said one of them.
Sylvanas's eyes trembled. "W-wait, no! Please! Those will never fi – Hrrk!"
They silenced her by jamming their cocks in without a care, forcing her mouth to stretch painfully wide to fit their double-barreled assault. Just like her pussy had done moments ago, Sylvanas's lips were pushed to their limits and then some, put to the test by such prodigious girths. Her tongue became sandwiched between the two pillars of meat, writhing helplessly as warm precum surged forth from their tips. Then as they pushed inward, her jaw strained to accommodate them. Thick, heavy tears welled in her eyes and ran down her cheeks, only to get stuck in the cummy facial she had been given before. Her red eyes looked upward at her abusers – a troll and pandaren – for any shred of mercy they might be willing to spare her, but there was none left. Not after all she had done to sully the Horde's honor.
Cruel hands grasped her long ears and gripped tightly as they pummeled her mouth in unison. Due to the cramped space they were sharing in her mouth, neither man could reach far enough to abuse her throat, but that wasn't necessary. Even without such thorough penetration, Sylvanas was already squealing like a pig around their cocks. Whether out of pain, rage, or pleasure no one could tell. Not as if it mattered to them. They thrust, seeking that ultimate finish, all while oblivious to the continued spray of fem-cum shooting from between the warchief's legs. Her senses were swimming in their essence: the musk in her nostrils, the pungent salty flavor upon her tongue, the slap of their balls rebounding off her chin. But most of all the sight of so many cocks everywhere she looked. From down on her knees, Sylvanas saw nothing but a perverted forest of dicks circled around her, each one fully hard and dripping precum in preparation to fuck her next no matter which hole of hers was available.
But more important matters drew Sylvanas's attention back to the men inside her mouth: they were cumming. Twin blasts of seed roared into her mouth, splashing her tonsils before dropping straight down her throat and into her crammed stomach. Sylvanas gulped the first few shots, but that was all she managed before the tide overwhelmed her. As her eyes rolled back, the banshee felt as though she were about to drown with cum packing her entire throat wall-to-wall, and then with nowhere else to go it surged back upward. Thick torrents of jizz roiled upward and outward, erupting from Sylvanas's nostrils. A second later and another matching spray burst from the tight seal of her lips wrapped around both cocks. Try as she might, Sylvanas could not swallow down all they had to offer no matter how much she tried to choke it down. Cum sprayed forth from both orifices like a broken sieve, and still the Banshee Queen herself could not stop cumming. Her eyes rolled stupidly in her skull as her senses became awashed in virile seed. By the time the troll and pandaren had finished, Sylvanas felt as though every empty space in her head was now clogged with spunk.
She was so busy chewing up the meal and smacking her cum-stained lips together that Sylvanas barely registered another visitor coming up from behind, nor when he bent her over and thrust into her gaping asshole. And as he pumped away at her loosened hole, the elf's eyes refocused upon the puddle of cooling off-white filth on the floor. Without even realizing what she was doing, Sylvanas snaked out her tongue and began to scoop the delicious concoction into her mouth.
Her cum-thirsty efforts certainly hadn't gone unnoticed. Behind her, Sylvanas heard the voice of the man helping himself to her ass. "Good girl."
"Good… girl…" panted Sylvanas, her eyes dull, void of all intelligence. Distantly, she was aware of a fading image in her fragile mind. A throne surrounded by people in a large city… But then a cock smacked down atop her head, and she reactively looked upward and opened her mouth wide. The image vanished as quickly as it appeared. Sylvanas welcomed the taste of a fresh cockhead, her tongue wiggling against it to taste the flavorful precum she knew would be there. Whatever that throne was, it couldn't be as important as the duty she had now. All these men had such large, painfully-hard erections and, as her lips closed tight and began to suck, Sylvanas realized she could finally be of some use to the Horde.