Dealmaker, Elfbreaker

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A night elf diplomat forms a sweaty pact with an orc.
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A request featuring two OCs from World of Warcraft.


"Why don't we just slaughter them all?"

High Priestess Allysa shot her compatriot an annoyed, if slightly weary look. Saia Azuresteel had the bloodthirsty temperament of a warrior. Highly skilled and coldly efficient with a burning hatred for orcs, it was no wonder she'd risen to the rank of commander within the Sentinels so quickly. She could slaughter them all, there was no question of that, but the problem was the political ramifications that would follow thereafter.

"We're trying to de-escalate the situation, Saia. Further bloodshed is the last thing we need."

"But they're just--"

"Mag'har, yes. But an orc is an orc, and they are allied with the Horde. There will be retribution if we attack them without even attempting to negotiate."

"They are encroaching on our lands," Saia said, resentment dripping like acid in her voice. "Logging our woods."

"A small camp of them."

"A small camp of cockroaches isn't so small."

Allysa smiled and reached across the table to pat the Sentinel's hand. "I agree with your sentiment, and it's entirely possible that we may need you to, as you say, slaughter them." She paused for dramatic effect and then continued. "But before it comes to that I have another plan in mind. Something no doubt violent in its own right, but far less bloody."

"Violence without bloodshed? I don't understand," Saia said.

"You will," Allysa said, "just as soon as you meet Elindia Dewshadow."


The southern forests of Ashenvale were calm and cool, the air clean, the natural flora displaying their bright colors as if putting on a show. Reds, blues and yellows shifted with the breeze, carrying the sweet and pleasant scents of innumerable flowers. Even so close to the Barrens as it was, southern Ashenvale still teemed with life, and critters poked their heads out from under every leaf and behind every tree.

She stepped forward and the gate closed behind her, it's clanging thump nearly making her jump. Glancing about, Elindia frowned as she took in the sudden shift of terrain.

The inside of the Mag'har camp was hot and suffocating. Great billows of smoke puffed out of various fires and mechanical contraptions sprawled about the area, creating a dense, cloudy haze. It was empty of trees, stripped of grass, devoid of any creature big or small that could provide sustenance. Lifeless. Lifeless except for the lumbering orcs slinking about and one silver-haired night elf diplomat whose purple skin and turquoise dress stood out like a sore thumb amidst the dreary landscape of brown and grey.

Her guide, a hairy orc missing an ear, grunted and waved her on. "Come."

Nodding to his turned back, Elindia followed, catching the eyes of just about every orc in camp. Their faces were hostile and unwelcoming, but behind that was something else. Something all men felt when they looked at her. She'd seen it many times before in orcs, the desire to covet her flesh, the instinctive urge to take and ravage her. They were savage killing machines, but their appetite for sex eclipsed even their murderous instincts.

"Wait here," the one-eared orc said once they'd entered the stone-and-spiked burrow that belonged to his leader.

She waited.

And waited.

There was no chair within the dusty, dirt covered antechamber, so she stood where One-ear had left her, hands clasped primly in front of her like an obedient school girl. Her long ears twitched. She could hear voices from beyond the iron door, muffled and vague. It sounded as if they were arguing, but when the door opened again and her guide thundered out he seemed no more--or less--angry than before.

He held the door open for her, and although she knew it was out of a sense of duty to his leader, she thanked him anyway and hurried inside.

The door slammed shut behind her, leaving her alone with the leader of the Mag'har encampment. His name was Gaturn Deadmask, big and lean with a face that would make a snarling hyena look cute. He menaced over her, at least two heads taller than she was. His skin rippled with taut muscle and was of a dark, brownish-red complexion, as if stained with blood. An Iron Horde tattoo marked the skin of his right shoulder, a large and prominent reminder of his affiliation.

Before undertaking this job she'd studied the Sentinel reports on him, gone over what little details they had. He was a bit of an upstart, at odds with the way the green-skinned orcs of Thrall's Horde operated. In this sense there were striking similarities between him and Garrosh Hellscream: headstrong, bloodthirsty, ambitious, and, in his eyes, superior to everyone else. That meant elves. Especially night elves. Yet despite his intense hatred he had a vice, and that vice was the very thing he held in contempt. Women like her, with long ears, glowing eyes, ethereal beauty and curves that made a bow look straight.

Maybe he believed in the superiority of orcs, but he couldn't resist elven women.

She smiled and bowed her head. "I'm pleased to finally meet you. My name is Elindia Dewshadow."

Gaturn ignored her, but his eyes roamed her body without shame, traversing the mounds of her breasts, the inward curve of her waist and the flare of her hips, all the way down to her smooth legs. They always did that. Whether openly or discreetly, her body could not be ignored.

This was, of course, purposeful. She wore a long dress, expensive and trimmed with gold, but it provided minimal coverage of her assets. Her arms and shoulders were bare, her toned stomach uncovered albeit for a golden thread which ran from the top section of her dress that barely concealed her breasts, down to her skirt which in turn split down either side of her legs to reveal both of her thighs.

"I've been looking forward to meeting you," she continued, stepping closer to him and smiling. "My people are very concerned with your activities here in regards to the health of the forest. I'd very much like to sit down and discuss this over a--"

"We both know why you're here," Gaturn interrupted, "and it's not so you can yammer on about saving the trees." He pointed to the floor with an expression that left no room for debate. "Put your mouth to better use and maybe I'll consider what you have to say."

Elindia hesitated. Not because she was offended or wished to protect her virtue, but because she wasn't sure if this was the best way to go about things. Briefly, she contemplated whether or not it would be better to argue and play hard to get, but quickly decided that simply wasn't an option. If she didn't play along, he would boot her out of the encampment without another word.

Best to follow his instructions and impress him.

"Whatever you say..."

Slipping down onto her knees, her ears twitched with anticipation as Gaturn removed what little armor he had, tossing aside a shoulder pad, gloves, and belt, until he wore nothing but a bone necklace and leather pants. Like a giant he towered over her, his presence unmistakably commanding, his masculinity undeniably powerful. Exciting, virile.

Noticing her lusty gaze, he grinned and patted her on the head, mussing her silver hair. Her lovely face stared up at him, gentian blue eyes alight with curiosity and streaked by the thin facial markings that crossed over them from forehead to jaw. "You're no stranger to being on your knees, are you, elf?"

She wet her lips, shook her head. "No."

"And you've been with orcs before, haven't you?"

This time she nodded.

"I figured. That priestess implied as much in the letter she sent, and we've heard rumors of you from Thrall's people." He grunted what may have been a laugh. "Some diplomat. You'd fit right in with your pink-skinned cousins back at the brothels in Orgrimmar. I just hope you're better with your mouth."

Removing his hand from her head, he hooked his thumbs under his waistband and pulled downwards, freeing his heavy tool in all of its veined glory. She sucked in a little breath, her mouth salivating and her clit throbbing. She'd waited three days for this and her excitement nearly made her lunge for it, but she kept her composure and waited.

"Go ahead. Convince me to pull my men out of Ashenvale."

Elindia bowed her head dutifully. "Yes, sir."

Then, without hesitation and with all the expertise of a seasoned slut, she embraced his cock with her slender hands, feeling its hot pulsing girth jolt to life under her fingers. It was fat and heavy, with a serpentine length that seemed to take forever to traverse each time she rolled her hands back and forth over his tool.

It didn't take very long for him to harden, and as she jerked him off her eyes met his, gauging his reaction. Pre-cum leaked out of him like a broken pipe, sticky and viscous. Their eyes remained locked while she leaned in for a taste. Lifting his cock up and flattening her tongue against it, she licked slowly, expertly, dragging her wet tongue along his tasty prick until she reached his tip. Twice more she did this, moaning, covering new ground each time and capturing the trickling beads of pre-cum that leaked down his manhood as she went.

At the apex of her third lick she parted her plump purple lips and sealed them around his cockhead, purring as she suckled on his orcish prick like a fine treat, swallowing his pre-cum directly from the source. Her humming grew louder as his seminal fluid rolled over her tongue, enjoying the taste and looking forward to the real thing.

For the next several minutes Elindia serviced him with her mouth sucking diligently on his cockhead and her hands jerking the base of his shaft, stopping only to dip her head and suck on his balls until they dripped with saliva. Resealing her lips around his tip, she removed her hands and folded them in her lap. Truthfully, she loved this job, loved sucking orc cock, but she didn't forget her mission. The fate of the forest, the creatures within it, and perhaps even the lives of her compatriots were at stake. Pleasing this brute wasn't just an option, it was absolutely necessary.

Lines formed on her forehead as she furrowed her brow. Her fingers dug into her thighs, her pointed ears folded back against her head, and her mouth advanced further as she ate up more and more of Gaturn Deadmask's throbbing cock. Slowly, conscientiously, she put her skills to good use. His cockhead hit the back of her mouth then continued downward like an apple stuck in her throat, distending her neck while more of his length passed through the gates of her pretty lips and over her wriggling tongue.

There was plenty left to go. She dove deeper, past the halfway mark and deeper still, swallowing so much orc cock even Gaturn couldn't help but be impressed. His eyes flickered, glowing with surprise and a hint of amusement. As she went further, crossing the gap between dick and groin, her gaze left his and her focus channeled only upon those last handful of inches.

Gurgling and nearly vomiting, she steeled herself and devoured the entirety of his Mag'har meat, demonstrating not only her dedication to duty, but also backing up what she'd said earlier. Gaturn wasn't the only orc she'd sucked off and he certainly wouldn't be the last, but he was without a doubt a pinnacle member of his race. Supremely masculine, supremely powerful, and holding a deep hunger for conflict. If her performance didn't change his mind about logging in Ashenvale, only bloodshed would.

With a mouth and throat full of cock, Elindia's eyes were dumbly half-lidded, her lips stretched to the brim in a wide circle, and she looked as if she were about to pass out from lack of oxygen, but she nevertheless remained with her nose pressed up against his groin for a good three seconds before finally pulling away. Coughing and sputtering, a sticky, viscous trail of spit coated his manhood now, forming numerous strings of saliva that linked her lips to the tip of his cock.

"I take it back," he said. "You're much better than your cousins."

A slap of his cock against her face felt like he'd nearly broken her neck, but it only incentivized her to moan like a whore and take his manhood back into her mouth. Faster now, she deepthroated him with long pulls of the mouth, sucking, slobbering and slurping upon his tool without shame. Her finely crafted features, aristocratic with her high cheekbones and sharp jaw, looked obscene contorted as they were to accommodate his size. Drool leaked down her chin and spattered her dress, while the fast, violent cramming of orc dick plugging her throat struck the room with a flourish of wet, sliding, sticky, throat filling gurgles that demonstrated just how dedicated she was.

Just like Gaturn, she was a fine specimen of her kind. Properly taught and finely trained, but a profoundly sexual creature by nature. Given her diplomatic career and frequent trips to Orgrimmar, it hadn't taken her long to experiment and discover a proclivity for orcs. A member of the Kor'kron squad assigned to protect her had seduced her and trained her. On her back, on her knees, he'd made her head spin and showed her just what they meant by blood and thunder.

Since then she'd used her newfound fetish to advance her cause, offering up her body when traditional means failed to achieve results. Most of her fellow elves viewed her with disdain, as if she were little better than a traitor, but the results spoke for themselves. Her unconventional tactics worked, and she was going to prove it again with this Mag'har warlord.

Focusing back on Gaturn's fat cockhead, she tightened her lips around him and sucked, turning her cheeks concave and once again utilizing her hands to jerk him off. Back and forth, she squeezed his thick shaft, massaging it while she twirled her tongue about his tip and tongued at his urethra, those big blue eyes of hers searching his face for any signs of detonation.

The first sign appeared as if on queue. The way the muscles in his face changed signified that he was close, so she redoubled her efforts, lewdly moaning while she obediently sucked him off with short bobs of the head. Gaturn grunted, his manhood pulsed, a quaking tremor signaled his eruption, and then with another beastly grunt he doused the inside of her mouth with hot and sticky cum, coating the insides of her cheeks, her tongue, her teeth. He emptied his balls in her mouth with spurt after spurt of potent jizz, then withdrew and tapped her on the nose with the slimy tip of his cock.

"Open up," he ordered.

She obeyed, proudly gaping up at him with a salty, white puddle of cum nearly overflowing from between her lips. When he took aim and spit in her mouth she didn't even flinch.

"Now swallow."

Again she obeyed, swallowing with two audible gulps the soupy concoction swimming around in her mouth and draining it all into her stomach. Feeling full, she licked her lips, smiled, and brought a delicate hand to her face. "Delicious," she purred.

Gaturn snorted in amusement. "Nasty bitch."

There was a bed in the room covered in a heap of animal hides and large enough to carry two Gaturn Deadmasks. Climbing out of his boots, he strode over and reclined lazily upon it, hands behind his head. "Come and show me how capable your other lips are."

Elindia did not rush to him. Slowly, sensually, she stripped herself of her dress and underwear, hanging each upon an iron spike on the wall. Half-turned as she was, he got a nice sideways view of her womanly figure highlighted by the orange flame of a nearby torch. The curves that had been hidden were fully visible now: her large, plump breasts and the little waist that flowered into wide, grippable hips. The long legs, the smooth, uniformly purple skin that lacked any blemish or imperfection. Fully naked and like a painting come to life she went to him, a woman of dreams made unto flesh for his enjoyment.

She knew she had him by the look on his face, a starving animal eyeing a fine meal. Even so, she still needed to put in the work to make him desire her not only for her body, but for her ability to use it.

Climbing onto the bed on her hands and knees, she crept forward between his legs, her behind wiggling and her eyes full of promise. His erect shaft, strong, powerful, and standing tall like an obelisk, brushed against the swaying tips of her heavy breasts. The sensation of it prodding against her nipples sent a surge of pleasant warmth through her belly, and she bit her lip as she sat up to straddle him.

Steadying herself and reaching between her legs, she took hold of his tool and positioned it at her entrance, teasing it between the slick honey of her folds before gently lowering herself down upon it. Slowly, carefully. A quiet Oh! escaped her as her pussy yielded to him, hot and ready. His bulbous cockhead parted her petals, stretched her out as it entered her, tunneled deep inside her core with every wonderful inch she took. And all the while she bit her lip and praised Elune for blessing her with such a job.

Her ass settled against his thighs and for a moment she simply sat there, acclimating to his size and readjusting herself. Leaning forward, she splayed her hands against his chest and rolled her hips, grinding her pussy upon his enormous shaft. Her breasts, full and ripe like fruit, hung between her arms while her hair framed her pretty face like a curtain of silver. The look on his face was expectant, and she was determined to meet that expectation.

Raising her hips, her breath caught as the entire first half of that thick slab of orc meat withdrew from her womanhood, pulling at her insides and leaving her painfully empty. The emptiness didn't last long. With a pleased little mewl she dropped her ass back down against his thighs, plugging her pussy and causing her mouth to curve into a dumb grin.

Elindia needed more of this. A lot more.

Rising and falling, she rode him with desperate precision, all passion and desire propelling her luscious body up and down along his cock. Her pussy juices stained his shaft, and each time her ass thumped against his body a shockwave echoed through her and her breasts jiggled enticingly, matching the frenzied pace of her bouncing.

If Gaturn wasn't sure of her sincerity before he was now. The way she rolled her hips and squealed like a pig left no room for doubt as to how much she was enjoying herself.

"Keep going, slut," he said, giving her a sharp slap on the ass.

Elindia was a hot, fiery mess of a woman, overflowing with lust and extracting pleasure just as good as she gave it. Her insides clung to his shape, clamped up around him, rippled as an orgasm blindsided her and caused her to cry out, her voice husky and breathless.

Trembling, she collapsed upon him, her breasts pillowing outwards and softening the fall. Absentmindedly, she placed adoring kisses against his chest, her lips caressing his muscles while his hand roamed down the curve of her spine and settled on her ass, giving it a good squeeze. For a short period of time he seemed content to bask in the pleasure they'd both shared, as if her orgasm had affected him as well, but then the air about him changed and she found herself pinned beneath him, tusks in her face and his massive body covering hers.

Her eyes widened, her pussy tugged needfully, and she wrapped her legs around him without even thinking.

Devastation followed.

Mind-shattering, bed-breaking devastation, every stroke of thick hard cock into her core making her grunt and mewl. Unrestrained and unending, Gaturn slammed his hips into her, flesh on flesh, orc on elf, his heavy balls thwacking relentlessly against her tight purple ass. There had been no build-up, no warning, just an immediate series of indomitable thrusts that served to make her forget everything but her name and the savage, brutal dicking that she was receiving.