Orcs vs Elves - Ashenvale

The High Priestess stepped carefully over plants and flowers to lean up against a nearby tree. Her hand rested flat on it, and her forehead pressed against it. She closed her eyes, feeling the waning of nature itself in the area due to Garrosh's efforts. She apologized quietly to the spirits for being unable to effectively stop them. Their deforestation had become accelerated during the new Warchief's rule and her attempts to curry support back home from her 'Alliance' had fallen on deaf ears. Her people fought alone through being bombed and massacred in their own homes. She pushed off from the tree and stumbled a few steps. Not just the Alliance, but even her husband had been away for so long.

She missed his familiar scent. The way he embraced her. The gentle ways in which he comforted her as though they were still a young couple. Duty was not kind to either of them in regards to their relationship. It never had been. Tyrande slumped down and felt weakness. Instead of denying it, while surrounded by the noisy forest with no eyes but the wilds and the spirits, she gave in and let her slender hand pull the hem of her gown to bunch up over her hips. She spread her legs and guiltily slid two fingers between her nether lips, circling the tight entrance, then up to the small hooded button that elicited a gasp as she touched it. Tyrande continued to caress herself there like that before slumping her shoulders. The priestess brought her fingers up to her face to see for herself the wetness she had at just the thought of Malfurion.

"Ridiculous." She cringed, bearing pearl white fangs at her own perceived weakness.

"You can not wait? You can not give him more time?" The Priestess cursed at herself, only to return to the same act. She slumped down in relaxation, her legs spreading wider as she did. Tyrande closed her eyes as two of the exploring fingers she used slipped into her sex and began began pushing in and pulling out, a little deeper every time until finally, at the height of what she considered to be her own madness, she was knuckle deep in herself while using her palm to rub the sensitive clit that had peeked out due to her playing.

"Yes..." She moaned.

"A little more..." Her body moved and shifted sensually. She leaned back, her head thrown back as well. Her chest rose and fell steeply.

"I can almost feel you next to me." She remarked. In less than a second her eyes opened. It was not just a feeling, but it was not him.

Tyrande opened her eyes to see a large green member casting a shadow over her face. Before she could do anything, she sat stunned as two large, sweaty balls fell comfortably over her eyes like a mask. The woman's jaw dropped and she shuddered lightly.

"Found myself a needy slut." The grunt remarked in orcish.

Tyrande could not understand, but she could respond. "Get off." The Grunt, in turn, had no idea what she was saying. For all he knew, she could be begging for it and in his favor, Tyrande was not choosing to immediately level the full force of her holy power against the man. She was too stunned, too confused and a little too needy. Her head that she had thrown back previously was being used as a plate for the cock and balls of the orc behind her. He was stroking himself in the same way she had been pleasuring herself, just without any perceived guilt on his part. The High Priestess leaned up, but as his balls mercifully slid back from her eyes his meaty member came to rub against her face. It gave her pause. The orc pulled the reluctant priestess's hand and guided it to the member. He was upside-down in her vision and with her hand on it, it was like she was stroking it backwards from between his legs.

"I can kill you whenever I want." She explained. He did not understand.

"What? You're saying you want it?" The orc grinned, interpreting her actions, since he could not discern what she was saying.

"I have no idea what you are saying." Tyrande relented and planted a kiss on the underside of the orc's cock in a moment of weakness. It was a satisfying act. The broad, veiny green thing was multiplicably larger than Malfurions and far muskier; stronger over all in most respects. But, she had to remind herself.

"It is not him..." She frowned, feeling bad for stroking his cock from beneath. She planted another kiss on the underside of the helmet.

"You are just a fool of a child treating everywhere sacred as your playground, as all of you are." She scolded while letting her tongue lap out over the sweaty member. As she held it, she opened her mouth wide and bared fangs. The woman considered biting down.

"No! Bad! No teeth." He flicked her forehead. Hers. The High Priestess. The Faction leader of the Kaldorei. She did not fully understand but his meaning was obvious. She reluctantly closed her mouth and slid back, letting go of his cock and ceasing her kissing.

"This ends here." She warned, both with her words and her stare and in her tone where she practically hissed at the man. She was on her knees a few feet a way but her posture was low down and ready like a large cat hidden in the grass. She stared at him like one and the feeling of her threatening him was not lost on him, either, even though her words were. The problem with the threat, however, was that he did not know who she was. He did not know the threat she presented, only the one she attempted to promise to him through body language and he would have expected every elf to do the same. So with much bravado and no self-preservation instincts to be found he strode forward and rested a large hand on the large, bent over frame of the Priestess.

"Huh?"

Tyrande looked up with surprise as she was pushed onto her back. She was 'stronger' but she was not entirely stronger than an average grunt. The muscle, the weight, the force. All of those could be overcome by skill and magic, but those required conscious thought to use and the orc required no effort to throw his weight around. The effect was the powerful High Priestess being pinned on her back by a simple Grunt. She gritted her teeth tightly and stared daggers at him. The woman raised her legs and pushed them against his chest as a weak barrier against any further advances made by him.

"You are insane!" She yelled. To her, it did not occur to her that the man did not recognize her. To her, it seemed as though he knew, and somehow knew beyond all sense that he could have her, even though she was Tyrande Whisperwind.

"I know you girls like to 'pretend' to fight." The Grunt chuckled. To her shock he took both of her ankles in one massive hand and dragged them off of his chest. They were removed as a barrier and folded back to act as just point of leverage for pressing her back into the ground.

"No!" She screamed. Her released her ankles, but she was no longer able to place her legs between him and her, as he was too close. Instead, her heels hooked awkwardly over his shoulders, bending her into a more and more awkward position as he leaned down and brought his face closer to hers. Tyrande grunted and squirmed, then stopped.

"Huh?" She felt his crown poising itself at the entrance to her tight, wet hole.

"Wait I-" Tyrande's eyes rolled up sharply as the orc made one thrust that pushed his entire length to the very end of her cunt. It was not the full length, there were a few inches still left, but it was her limit. Rather than breaking, her sex expanded and wrapped comfortably around his invading member. At the end of the thrust his balls slapped hard against her taint, causing her ass to twitch, as well. Even as her eyes crossed faintly due to the sensation, she thought she could take it, that she was just stunned into silence as he dragged his tremendous length out teasingly, shudderingly slow. Then, just as it had felt the first time she received a shock of pleasure as she received another strong thrust. Tyrande's crossed eyes shot up and her lips curled. It felt good. Too good. She could have taken it if he went easy. If he slowed down and gave her time to think. Instead, the orc increased his pace and began slamming into her. Even the powerful woman could not stop herself from yelping and moaning and moving with it. Her body was weak beneath his and she could barely muster the strength or the will to fight under the onslaught. A minute in was the first time she came to an orc cock. Her toes curled behind his head and her thighs tensed. Her toned stomach flexed, but still the faint indent of his thickness could be seen warping those muscles from the outside.

"Damn..." She threw her head back and allowed an embarrassed glance up at the orc.

"Enjoying yourself?" He asked.

Though she could not understand, the sight of his grinning, smug face staring down at her told her everything. She realized her own state. The woman was blushing and sweating. Her makeup was running and her hair was a mess. She was panting and losing herself to the pleasure. The woman forgot her own strength in the midst of the embarrassment and tried to cover her face with her hands as her eyes became misty. The orc pulled them away and pinned them on either side of her head. He leaned down and kissed her affectionately, setting off sparks in her head. Whether intentional or not, as he kissed her his cock buried in her cunt and unloaded. She felt warmth permeate her insides and overflow out past the tight seal her pussy made around his member. As he released her from the kiss and pulled his cock free to view her stretched pussy filled, like a cup to the brim with cum, Tyrande stared up at him.

"This isn't right." She was speaking more to herself than anything.

"I shouldn't be-"

"Yeah, yeah. I know, you're in love, right!" He chuckled. The two were having two different perceived conversations. He crudely pressed down on her pelvis, causing her to groan and hercunt to tense and push much of the seed from her onto the forest floor. Tyrande groaned. Her legs swung off his shoulders to the side and spread wide. He kept them spread apart by placing himself between them. The Grunt, ready to go again so soon, once again pushed his cock into Tyrande's twitching pussy.

"W-w-what!? Again?" She moaned, grinning like a madwoman as she came again and again from the renewed fucking.

"Elune... I can't think straight. Help me remain-" She gasped, her back arching with another orgasm as the orc came inside of her yet again. Their bodies seemed locked together. Her heaving breast was pressed against his chest, his lips were constantly closing over hers and his cock locked them together more than anything. The powerful High Priestess was treated to the feeling of being squished and completely overpowered beneath the simple Grunt.

"Th... ink he's done." She gasped, her womb had been filled again. She once again tense, pushing out the fluid as best she could.

"G-go!" She ordered up at the man desperately. Her silver, intelligent eyes had become unfocused and dull from the experience. Her lips twitched upwards, unable to hide the joy her body was experiencing in spite of her actual displeasure. Her gown had torn and fallen like a belt around her slender waist to reveal her breasts for him to grope freely as though they were his. He treated them as stress relievers in his palm and showed great enjoyment in squishing and slapping them as she told him, warned him to leave. Instead he wasted no time pushing his ready member into her cunt yet again. He was not spent. He was fine and his body was strong and virile.

Tyrande on the other hand was weak. She felt like she was going insane. "A-ahh...." She cracked, grinning widely as the orc pulled her legs up and tied her body into something resembling a pretzel with her ankles behind her shoulders and her arms behind her head to lock them. She eagerly let her tongue out of her mouth to meet his as he kissed her and relished each and every thrust. He could not understand her, but if only he could the man could be greeted as a hero of his kind.

"Surrender! I surrender!" Tyrande offered madly. She begged for it.

"Surrender to orcs! Breed me!" She said in response to his rough, ballsmacking thrusts into her reddened sex.

"I-I-I'm yours just p-please, mercy!" She pleaded, cumming as she spoke.

But he did not understand, nor perceive what she was saying. He pulled her messed hair bun into an even messier, strewn, leaf-filled do as he continued to press her into the ground relentlessly. The orc was satisfied with how much he had fucked the poor priestess into a blathering, mindless mess until he notice a very particular tiara in his hand from where he loosened her bun. Then a necklace around her neck. Definite features that should have tipped him off sooner. He pulled out as he came one last time, filling her pussy and sending a few final ropes over her already messy person.

"Shit!"

She stared up at him, begging. "T-take me! I can't think, I n-need..." She trailed off dizzily. Gravity and exhaustion prevented her from lifting her head.

With the added context of who she was the simple grunt read it as a threat. He backed away slowly, seeing the woman like a bomb in a station that could go off if touched or unwrapped, or even if he was simply near it for too long. The man fearfully retreated, having no idea what he had left due to his lack of understanding.

As he left her, Tyrande closed her eyes and fell into a deep slumber, surrounded by the plants and animals and spirits. She passed out comforted by the knowledge that they would not tell a soul about her moment of weakness. About her instant loss and surrender to a basic orc that only seemed to taunt her further by leaving soon after he got what he wanted. Her interpretation of the events. The man was so confident that he could have her whenever he wanted that he did not even need to accept her surrender. He could take it whenever he needed to. He always had it. She dreamed about it while she slept.

By the orc's perception as he ran from the scene, he was caught in an odd game by a perverted woman that could kill him at any moment. It was terrifying and the Grunt considered his choices as his chest burnt from exhaustion at hurriedly running back to Horde territory.