Messy Diplomacy

A request featuring Tyrande Whisperwind from WoW getting gangbanged by a group of blood elves.

***

She had the distinct desire to kill this man.

But that wouldn't be very diplomatic.

Tyrande crossed her legs and withheld a sigh. Across from her was the man she'd traveled halfway around the world to meet: Grand Magister Rommath. A mage, a scholar, and more wary than a street-cat. A certain degree of circumspection was fine, and in fact necessary for a politician, but he'd been dragging his feet for nearly a week over a fairly simple trade agreement.

Is it a trick? How will our lumber industry be affected? Will we be worse off without isolationist policies? Do we need protectionist quotas or tariffs?

Frankly she was tired of answering his questions, especially when most of them concerned his own country as opposed to hers. History made it obvious how open trade had benefited the human kingdoms, the orcs and trolls, even the Forsaken and the blood elves. Yet still he dragged his feet, confusing prudence with lack of will.

Meanwhile Malfurion is probably frolicking in the realm of dreams, she thought.

As matriarch of the night elves, she was beginning to feel like she had to do everything. It weighed her down more than she'd like to admit.

"It's getting late, Your Majesty. Shall we continue this tomorrow?" Rommath flashed her a genuine smile and stood up.

Tyrande gritted her teeth and held back an insult. "Of course."

She said her goodbyes and then left, admiring the city as she made the short walk back to her apartment. The blood elves were known for their affiliation with the sun, but night suited Silvermoon just fine. Lights of red, white, green and yellow dotted the city's streets and buildings, and although they'd made a tremendous shift away from their kaldorei ancestors, the blood elves had not entirely abandoned nature. There were numerous parks located throughout the city, and great healthy trees lined alabaster roads and walkways. She had to admit that it was impressive. Rather than simply waging war with it, they'd put their magic to good use constructing buildings that seemed nigh impossible to build by conventional means.

One such building had caught her eye the day before. She passed by it every day on the walk back to her quarters. The bar--for that's what she assumed it was, given the flashing glass symbol above its door--was of an oddly non-Euclidean shape, as if it had been stretched, twisted, and turned at either end during its construction. Star-shaped windows adorned its walls, and inside she could see the vague silhouettes of people moving to and fro.

Tyrande stopped and thought for a moment. She could either go back to her apartment and toil over various political issues... or take a break and get a drink.

Easy choice, especially as the latter could be used to justify the former. It wasn't just an excuse, though, she needed time to relax and refresh herself.

With a newfound vigor in her step, she hurried back to her apartment to change and get cleaned up. Normally she only wore one of two things: her combat armor, or her ecclesial gown, but she'd received a new dress as a diplomatic gift from Rommath and it was as good a time as any to try it on.

It was a halter dress with a deep, plunging neckline, more revealing than what she was accustomed to, but that was fine. She wasn't a prude, and night elves had a certain proclivity towards wearing as little as possible anyway.

"A fine gift for a fine lady," she said, eyeing herself in the mirror and nodding approvingly.

For a priestess she had a body that was more decadent that any warlock's summoned succubus. Tall and slender like a willow tree, but with all the curves that made men stare. A stacked chest led down to wide hips, and wide hips were complimented by a big ass to match. Her lavender skin stood in sharp contrast to the fine white fabric of her dress, and its silver trim, festooned with tiny gemstones, elevated it to a status befitting of someone of her powerful stature.

When she stepped back onto the street and through the doors of the strange looking bar, she was at first shocked by both the amount of people inside the place, as well as the sheer number of different races intermingling together. Most of the patrons were blood elves, but there was a smattering of orcs, trolls, nightborne, and even humans. They talked, they drank, and she could already see two women doing things underneath a table that almost made her turn around and leave.

Resisting the temptation to stop and stare, Tyrande ducked into a shadowed booth located between two marble pillars and caught the attention of a waitress. She was a slender thing, with long ears and even longer legs, copper hair and green eyes that seemed eager to please. Her outfit consisted of high heels and a diaphanous gown that was tight where it counted and loose where it mattered.

There weren't any other night elves, so she figured this woman was probably happy to serve her for that reason alone.

The blood elf introduced herself as Lyril and did a practiced bow that showed off her cleavage. Tyrande wasn't interested. She ordered a bottle of leywine and took a swig. She didn't typically drink, but she considered this a special occasion and anything infused with mana was worth drinking.

As she sipped her wine from the bottle and enjoyed the clamor of music and voice, she surveyed the room from her isolated corner. It was a plush joint, dark with lots of dim lights upon the tables and walls that glowed red, green, and purple. Raised platforms, some large, some small, some round, some star-shaped, furnished the spacious interior. All of these platforms had at least one elf dancing atop them in various stages of undress, earning what looked to be a hefty amount of silver coin. She had a good guess as to what a gold coin could buy.

Skipping over the large crowd, she noticed that there were half a dozen doors lining each side of the building. She hadn't noticed them on the outside, so she assumed they led into individual rooms of some sort. Her brows furrowed, but before she could ponder things further a group of men walked into her field of vision, taking a seat not too far from her. Raising the bottle of leywine to her lips, she watched them while they ordered their drinks. They were young--as far as she could tell. Four in total. Tall, handsome, and wearing the robes typical of blood elves. More apparent was the fact that they were obviously enjoying themselves, and their outward display of jovial companionship made her sigh. She should have at least taken Shandris with her. Or an aid. Or a prisoner.

Anyone to stave off the boredom with conversation.

A debilitating surge of loneliness caused her to take another swallow of wine. Time passed and as it did she drank and drank until she was plastered, with her interest now keenly fixated on the elves across from her as they engaged in a heated game of cards. Judging by their reactions only one of them seemed to be any good at whatever game they were playing, but they were all clearly enjoying themselves.

At some point they stopped and looked around, past the naked dancers and through the energetic crowd. She knew what they were looking for. It was probably what everyone else was looking for as well, but she was surprised when one of them looked right at her. For some unknown reason she held his gaze, and that was enough for him to stand up and make his way over to her.

"Hi," he said simply.

She smiled. What a ridiculous situation this was. A blood elf trying to pick her up. Not only was she married, but this man was likely less than even a quarter of her age. She took another sip of wine and set the empty bottle down.

"Hello there," she said.

"Studying our culture?" he asked, smiling back.

What a nice smile. He looked friendly enough, and like most elves he was fairly attractive, although he appeared far less stern than most night elf men. The red hair was certainly different...

"Hm? Oh, yes. I suppose you could say that."

"My name's Gelanis." He paused, then, "How would you like some study partners?"

Tyrande glanced over at the man's friends. "You mean the four of you?"

"That's right."

"Well..."

"It'll be a lot better than sitting here by yourself."

True enough. She didn't need to do anything but talk with them, and after speaking to nobody but Rommath and Elune for four days it would be nice to have some company.

"All right," she said. "Where shall we... study."

"Come on." He held out his arm for her to take. "We'll get a room."

"Room?"

Confused, she looked around. Two elves caught her eye, and she watched as they disappeared through one of the doors at the side of the building, giggling and clinging to each other.

Oh. That kind of room.

One of the men ran off to talk with an employee, then came back with a key to their room. Tyrande stumbled over her heels as Gelanis led her and the rest of the group away from the crowd and towards the edge of the building. His hand slid down to her ass, giving it a good squeeze while they walked. She told him she was married and to stop, but his hand remained and she didn't bother pulling away. It didn't seem to matter if he groped her or not, and even as she stepped into the private room she could feel the familiar tugging of desire between her legs. Perhaps she'd had too much to drink. Perhaps she should leave...

The door clicked shut behind her, and she found herself in a crowded room with four strange men she knew nothing about. They looked hungry and eager and just about as drunk as she felt, but no one moved until Gelanis did. Wrapping an arm around her, he led her to a wooden table with chairs that looked more like fluffy cushions. Atop the table was a bottle of wine that came with the room free of charge, and soon enough they were drinking all over again. Maybe it wasn't very smart, maybe she'd regret it later, but right now she was having fun, and she hadn't had this kind of simple fun in a long, long time.

Gelanis' friends introduced themselves to her with friendly shakes of the hand and even friendlier smiles. Zelan was a blond, clean cut, blue-eyed paladin with a sharp enough jaw and just enough stubble to make her lick her lips. The other two were darker. Rathil, with pallid skin, black hair and dark circles under his eyes was just about as stereotypical of a warlock as could be, although underneath his haunted visage was a face attractive in its own right. The last one, Kelen, shook her hand but kept his eyes glued to her chest. He passed it off as a joke that made her giggle, but she had a feeling the young man would be staring at her breasts even if he had the Lich King's icy sense of humor.

"So," Kelen said, swiping a strand of brown hair out of his eye and topping off her glass. "What brings you to Silvermoon?" He leaned forward and his tone became more serious. "Please tell me you're applying to be a dancer here."

"Absolutely not!" she blurted as if appalled, but then laughed at the absurdity of such a notion. "I can't dance like that." Sitting up straight in an effort to look refined, she drew their attention back to her generous cleavage, large, purple, and all but hanging out in the open. "I'm on a political assignment regarding a trade agreement between our two peoples. It's very important work."

"A big shot, then." Gelanis said. He was seated to her right, his arm roaming her body, caressing her back and teasing downwards.

Tyrande smiled and sipped her wine. "That's right. In fact I just got done speaking to Grand Magister Rommath before coming here."

"Rommath?" Zelan asked, the surprise in his voice evident. "Say, what's your name Miss...?"

"Whisperwind."

Gelanis' hand stopped and for once all eyes--blue, purple and green--were on her face and her face alone.

"Are you kidding?"

"No, I'm quite serious," she said. "And quite drunk." Sin'dorei wine was exceptionally delicious, and no doubt more addictive given the mana within it. She took another sip and ignored the hand that moved dangerously close to her breast.

Gelanis' fingers teased at the neckline of her gown, and this time she did pull away.

"Drunk enough to show us what color your nipples are?" he asked.

"My nipples? Why do you care what color they are?"

"Call it cultural exchange," Rathil said.

"You really want to see these?" she asked, cupping her breasts and lifting them up as if inspecting them.

Five voices responded with a resounding "Yes!"

Tyrande shrugged, and none of the men missed the wonders that movement did to her luscious body. "All right." Gently pulling down on her dress, she fished out her breasts from their silky confinements, revealing each magnificent mammary one at a time before giving them a little shake.

"Violet," someone murmured, and they all stared at her, eyeing her proud and perfectly formed breasts.

"They're about as big as her head," Kelen said, forcing himself to blink.

The rest of them made other crude comparisons regarding fruits and pillows, but Rathil wasn't quite as enthusiastic. "This could be a dangerous game we're playing... Fooling around with the night elf matriarch, I mean."

"Deadly?" Gelanis laughed. "Not deadly enough to prevent me from doing this--" Quickly, before she could react or think, he tilted her head and kissed her on the lips, tasting wine and saliva when she opened her mouth to accept his tongue.

Between the wine, the loneliness and the tongue in her mouth, Tyrande responded eagerly. She'd never been reckless, but there was a potent combination here that drove her out of her comfort zone. Hands roamed her hot body, fingers twisted her nipples, and she could feel a cloak of pleasure enveloping her as she was led to a soft bed that served one purpose and one purpose only, and it didn't involve resting.

"Take her dress off," Rathil urged.

Zelan laughed and smacked him on the back. "Someone's had a fast change of heart."

"There's no sense in being left out," he said. "And besides, she probably won't even remember us."

"That's the spirit."

Tyrande didn't object when they stripped her of her dress, leaving her naked on the bed in nothing but a tiny white thong. A little tuft of green fur peeked out over the top of it, but Gelanis' hand quickly found her nethers, slipping under her thong and teasing her wet slit with his fingers. When his middle finger found her clit she practically squealed.

"She's primed and ready," he said, undoing his robes and tossing them aside. "Too much diplomacy and not enough fucking I think."

Her bright blue eyes widened. She'd considered her husband fairly well-endowed, but without even seeing him naked she could tell that this man was beyond such moderate praise. Massive was more like it. The tent in his underwear simply couldn't be ignored. Normally she would be appalled, but inebriated as she was that bulge became the center of her undivided attention.

"Come here and get a better look," he said.

Opting to go with the flow of things, she briefly glanced up at him before positioning herself on the edge of the bed. His manhood dangled in her face, constrained only by a thin layer of cloth. When he whipped it out, she nearly gasped. Her jaw dropped, her mouth watered, and her pussy clenched.

"Bigger than your husband?"

She nodded dumbly.

Gripping his shaft, Gelanis rubbed the tip of it over her lips and nose. "What was his name again?"

"I don't know," she mumbled, pursing her lips while he pressed his cockhead against them. "Is this thing magically enhanced?"

"Less questions more sucking."

"You want me to... I've never..."

Gelanis ignored her and pushed his cock past her plump purple lips, sliding the first few inches over her tongue and then stopping. He expected her to take over, and, unprompted, she did just that. Her lips formed a tight seal around his girth and her tongue slithered around his cock like it had a mind of its own, tasting him while she began a slow, tentative pace. And although she hadn't had any interest in sucking cock before, she took to it quickly. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe she was a natural dick sucker, but this was new and exciting and she soon had nearly half of his massive length down her virgin gullet.

It didn't take long to discover her gag reflex.

Pulling back, she coughed and sputtered, but his hand fisted her green hair and guided her back onto his tool so that she was back to bobbing her head in his lap. She smeared his manhood with saliva as she slurped, working him with her natural dick-sucking lips and giving him as much thorough attention as she paid to her diplomatic duties. He tasted good, and she could feel the subtle currents of mana flowing through his body, spurring her on.

"How is she, Gel?" Kelen asked.

"Better than that nightborne trollop addicted to mana," he said, tapping Tyrande on the head. "Are you sure you've never done this before?"

"Mmn-mnnf." Although she'd never given head, she nevertheless sucked dick like she'd been hungry for it her entire life.

"She's a natural," he praised, petting her hair while she sucked.

"We can tell," Zelan said. "How about you stop hogging her?"

"Fine, fine. Come on, Your Grace, kneel down over here."

Gelanis' cock escaped her mouth with a pop! and then she was being led onto the carpeted floor, kneeling down and watching as the other blood elves undressed. Everything went so quickly, but she didn't protest. Part of her wanted to, but her desire for cock far outweighed her desire to remain virtuous.

The four blood elves were all similarly endowed, long and fat with pulsing veins and silky white skin. One in front, one behind, and the other two on either side of her, she was surrounded by thick cocks ready and willing to fill her up. Pre-cum beaded at their tips, drawing her eyes and making her lick her lips.

"Open up," Gelanis said, putting his hand on the back of her head and drawing her towards his prick. She engulfed it within her mouth again, purring while she throated his manhood, but just when she was getting back into the groove of it he withdrew himself from her mouth and instructed her to suck on his balls.

The thought hadn't crossed her alcohol-addled mind, but she did as instructed, directing her talents to his balls and lovingly dragging her tongue over them. Humming and sucking, the kaldorei matriarch made love to his sack as if the contents within were delicious morsels she'd long been starving for. She coated them with drool, lifted them with her tongue, kissed them with her lips, and ultimately took each testicle into her greedy mouth.

Snug within her maw, she twirled her tongue around his balls as if shining them, then pulled back until they sprung forth from her juicy lips. Messy and wanton, she immediately nestled herself against his sack, lolling her tongue and planting sloppy open-mouthed kisses on his balls. She didn't know what she was doing or why she was doing it, but she spun down a whirlpool of depravity as hot desire flooded her body. The removal of her inhibitions had freed her to be depraved in ways that only hours prior would have been unimaginable to her, but now she found herself moaning as she lathered his balls in saliva, his cock draped scandalously over her face while she pleased him. And all the while the others poked and prodded impatiently at her cheeks and the back of her head, smearing her with sticky pre-cum.

Zelan cleared his throat and spoke again. "I know you found her and all, but how about spreading the love?"

Gelanis grunted. "Sorry but it's hard not to get carried away when Tyrande fucking Whisperwind is gobbling your balls."

Tyrande found herself being introduced to another cock, just as big and intimidating as the last but far less wet. She fixed that real quick, wrapping her plump purple lips around Zelan's cockhead and dipping low, trailing a generous layer of saliva over his extensive length. He was thick and hard as iron, but she demonstrated her natural talent for sucking cock by throating him at a deliberate pace, her wet mouth squelching lewdly around the meat punching the back of her throat and sliding into her gullet. Novice or not, she was a quick learner, albeit sloppy, and with each forward bob of the head saliva dripped and dribbled onto her breasts, her cheeks turning concave every time she suckled on his tip and gave it special treatment.