Seeing Triple at the Exodar

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Shalendris gets gangbanged by a Draenei futa masseuse.
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The ship's bell rang, alerting all passengers aboard that they had arrived at their destination. Those few present slowly started rising from whatever uncomfortable seating they'd managed to find, packing up any belongings before making their way to the pier. Shalendris groaned as she stood up, her backache worsened by the terrible position she'd found herself napping in.

It had only been a few years since the Kaldorei had lost their immortality and yet, Shalendris already felt the effects of her eternal youth slipping away. Each day, it seemed, brought with it additional aches. Even her healing magic could not mend some things, she realized. She pressed her thumbs to her lower back and stretched, trying to achieve the satisfying crack. At least the priestesses in Darnassus usually managed to alleviate some of the unpleasantness of her situation. As she did so, a few people passing by sent looks her way, most of which landed on her tremendous breasts. Most of them, it seemed, were Draenei, their hooves resonating with that distinct noise as they hit the floorboards.

The enormous, overgrown mountains on her chest, quite easily large enough to smother a Gnome from head to toe, never went unnoticed and their weight was clearly felt by her spine. Though the blessings of Aessina had helped reinforce her back, the twins had grown to such a degree that even that was insufficient. These blessings, allowing the druid to absorb magical essence through her breasts, were beginning to become a real burden. Normally, she would have been able to spend more of the mana contained within them than they could naturally absorb from their surroundings, but there had been some sort of blockage there, something stopping her from keeping her chest's size in control.

When she stepped outside, a gust of wind blew Shalendris's long, purple hair into her face, briefly blocking her view. As she brushed it aside, her gaze was not greeted by the colossal Teldrassil but by a mountain with, growing from its side, a gigantic purple crystalline structure. A few hundred feet tall, if she had to estimate its size by the silhouettes in the distance making their way into it.

She had taken the wrong boat. Instead of going to Darnassus, as she had planned, she was now on Azuremyst Isle, on the small dock near the crashed Exodar. It had only been a few months since the Draenei had landed here and the enigmatic people had soon formed a bond with the Alliance.

"A people from another planet, can you believe it? And worshippers of the Light, too!" exclaimed a man next to Shalendris, staring wide-eyed at the enormous structure jutting out of the grey mountainside. "Who knew there were people out there who weren't hell-bent on destroying us!" chuckled the grey-haired human, his white robes and golden staff marking him as a priest of the Holy Light.

Shalendris held her staff in both hands, feeling quite uncertain about meeting the strange folk. The last time the Kaldorei had met people from another world, it had been the Orcs and things had not gone well between the two groups. "Excuse me," she asked a passing sailor, the dwarf barely able to see past the huge wooden crate he was carrying.

The red-bearded man looked up at the Kaldorei, his eyes nearly falling from their sockets as he came face to face with the fattest pair of tits this side of Azeroth. "Uh, yea?" the stunned man replied.

"When does this ship next leave?"

"Err... Four or five days, I'd say," the dwarf replied, his face red from the effort of holding the heavy crate, masculine pride stopping him from simply dropping the thing onto the deck.

"Oh, my... Thank you. I hope there are other ships that stop by here..." she said, speaking mostly to herself.

The Dwarf shook his head. "Military ships, mostly. Merchant and passenger ships aren't as common, I'm sure a pretty lass like yourself won't have any trouble finding a vessel off these isles," the burly man added before stomping off, arms shaking from the effort. Though he would have probably liked to talk to the curvaceous druid some more, his arms would probably have fallen off from the weight of the iron-filled crate.

With both hands wrapped tightly around her oaken staff, the Kaldorei nodded to herself determinedly, the sides of her face curling into a wide smile. The familiar song of Brightbeak, her avian companion, rang above her, cheerful and bright.

"He's right! I suppose this is an opportunity to make friends among the Draenei!" Her thoughts would shift from worry to excitement, bright silver eyes spotting her feathered friend, his ethereal green glow contrasting with the dull grey sky as he stared down at her with an unmoving stare, perched upon a yard, high above.

The flutter of wings would accompany him as he took flight, circling the vessel, of which there remained few passengers save for the sailors unloading merchandise. Shalendris's delicate feet would land on the wooden pier as she looked around for a moment, trying to identify which direction to go. One path, it seemed, headed towards the Exodar and another towards a smaller settlement located atop a small grassy hill.

Her back already aching, Shalendris saw little use in walking so far to the smaller settlement, instead turning towards the small tunnel entrance carved into the side of the gigantic spacefaring vessel. Each step, it seemed, brought with it a tsunami of jiggling titflesh, colossal tits barely held in check by the too-small cups of her druidic leather top. The tops of her dark, purple areolae were visible atop the hem of the inadequate garment.

The joyful, happy look on her face quickly vanished as her feet came into direct contact with the grass, the vegetation imparting upon her its feelings and thoughts. Helplessness, it seemed, was the governing thought among the myriad that touched her mind. The flora of this place seemed to be suffering from some corruption brought upon by the crashing of the ship. Powerless, nature itself was reaching out for help. Few, however, outside those who had a connection to the land, could ever understand that pain. At most, they would have to rely on outside indicators pointing towards that corruption, such as unnatural aggressiveness, change in coloration, or physical mutations.

Scanning her surroundings and looking beyond the nearest woodland edge, Shalendris spotted a handful of man-sized purple crystals jutting out of the ground above the bushes, humming softly with contained energy. Of the same hue as the crashed Exodar ship's shining, crystalline form, one could hardly miss the connection between the two.

"Zhat one is deactivated," came a strong, heavily accented voice behind her. "Zhe energy contained within has been reclaimed."

Shalendris turned her head to spot a colossal, hammer-wielding Draenei man heading her way. Upon that heavily muscled frame hung a beautifully decorated suit of golden scale mail. Every small, metallic piece of metal making up the finely crafted set of armor embedded with a tiny blue crystal, making the sight that much more impressive to Shalendris, who was used to the more austere clothing and armor of the Kaldorei.

The druid spun around and lowered her head briefly, politely towards the Draenei, offering him an eyeful of her abundant, overflowing cleavage. Straightening, and not without some effort, she got another good look at the blue-skinned man who was now but a few feet from her. Were it not for the kind smile on his thin lips and the lack of any fel energies surrounding him, the night elf would have thought that the Man'ari Eredar of the Burning Legion had returned to Azeroth, so did they resemble Archimonde the Defiler.

Shalendris blinked, unsure of what to even tell the man. "You have learned the common tongue quickly," she said, blushing somewhat at the oddity of the remark. "I mean... I'm glad our people learned to communicate without issue..."

An amused snort from the man reassured her that her meaning had not been misconstrued. "I am Xaravuus," he said. "And we have many great scholars aboard the Exodar who were able to decipher the common tongue quite rapidly. It is not the most difficult of languages to learn. Your Darnassian, however, will be a little more challenging, it seems," he added.

A smile crossed her lips. "Yes... It had been some time since I had learned another language when the humans and orcs landed upon our shores. The people of the Alliance were great teachers. It is a pleasure to meet one of the proud Draenei. I am Shalendris."

"I have no doubt. My teacher has told me to keep practicing, so I keep watch here and converse with visitors of this Alliance of yours," Xaravuus explained, his glowing white eyes glancing down at the valley between the elf's gigantic tits. "You seem to be one of the druids, yes? You are here to assist with the cleansing?"

"To be honest with you, I am not. Or was not, at least. Here to cleanse the land, I mean" Shalendris admitted. "I am a druid of the branch, one who specializes in restorative magic. So, I could most definitely give you a hand in these matters,"

Xaravuus tilted his head sideways ever so slightly. "Then why did you come here, Shalendris? I don't think our beautiful Exodar is in any state to be of much interest to tourists," he chuckled.

Shalendris remained silent for a moment. "By accident."

"Accident? Dear friend, you arrived by that very same boat behind us. Are you telling me you got on the wrong boat?" His tone toed the line between mockery and bemusement.

The night elf nodded twice, rapidly.

"Oh, oh my. Well!" Xaravuus took on a more serious look. "Where were you headed, then? I am certain we can at least offer you accommodations until this ship leaves."

"Darnassus. I was to get a massage there... Well, more of a healing treatment. By the Sisterhood." The purple-haired woman clutched her staff with both hands a bit harder, cheeks reddening with every passing moment.

"The priestesses? Are you sick? We have great healers here, I could show you to them, if you wish," the goliath offered. Shalendris could tell that the man, easily more than a head taller than her, was using up every last ounce of self-control not to simply stare at her fat, wobbling elf-tits.

The night elf nodded once more.

The way to the Vault of Lights was relatively uneventful, with Shalendris taking in the wondrous sights hidden within the Exodar. Great jutting crystals of purple, pink and golden hues abounded and between them, various structures had been built. Some of them, it seemed, had always been there, while others were a little more recent, probably built after the crash.

Draenei artificers busied themselves with the maintenance of existing buildings while others worked on new constructions. Soup kitchens here and there told the druid that this was a society built on generosity and kinship, kindness and compassion. These Draenei worked with such harmony and while laughter resonated within the crystalline halls, there remained a feeling of loss, an underlying sadness to it all. Shalendris was briefly reminded of her own people after the Sundering that had wiped out so many of her kind, ten thousand years ago. The way they came together to face this hardship, it was plain to see that this was not the first time something like this had happened to these horned folk.

Xaravuus made sure to explain as much of the story of his people to Shalendris as possible during the thirty or so minutes it took them to reach the healers' quarters. The small temple they entered, however, was empty. "Wait, there's... Where is everyone?" the colossus asked to no one in particular, looking around with a confused look on his face.

Mere moments later, Shalendris and Xaravuus were greeted by a young Draenei woman with long, curved horns. A novice priestess, judging by the simplicity of the robes which covered her modest figure. She spoke a few words in Draenic to Xaravuus before switching to common when she noticed Shalendris. "Ah... The Anchorites were called to a... how do you say... accident? A few artificers were injured when part of the northern tunnel collapsed. They asked me to... ah... protect. Protect the temple!" Though she seemed to have some difficulty with the common tongue, Shalendris was nonetheless impressed by how well the young anchorite managed to speak it, and without any magical assistance whatsoever.

Xaravuus, obviously panicked by the news of that collapse in the tunnel, patted Shalendris on the shoulder a few times. "I'll see you around, I'll see if I can go lend a hand." With that, the hooved hunk started towards the northern part of the city, heavy hooves clanging on the metallic floor of the crashed vessel.

"How to help the night elf?" the Anchorite then asked, staring at Shalendris. "Have you been afflicted by curse?" The young woman's spirited gaze bounced down onto Shalendris's twin mountains of titflesh.

The purple-haired Kaldorei shook her head briefly. "Cursed? Not that I know of... I am simply seeking a healer or anyone able to assist in relieving an aching spine. Come to think of it, a curse is quite likely given that this is the first time in a long time I've been backed up in such a way."

Frowning briefly, the anchorite took a step forward, leaning forward and poking one of Shalendris's immense breasts with a single finger, as though waiting for some kind of reaction from it. "Backed up? Making of the milk?" she asked, looking up at the night elf, curiosity in her eyes.

"Ah, no. Well, not at the moment. Sometimes, I do. It's a little bit more complex than-"

"Please leavinks her to me, Arkaa," came another voice from behind, distinctly feminine yet oozing with power. The accent, stronger than the other Draenei she had met, had an unmistakable musicality to it and Shalendris turned around to greet the newcomer -- much to Arkaa's dismay, who was getting ready for a more thorough inspection of Shalendris's chest.

The Draenei standing at the entrance to the small temple seemed to be nearly a whole foot taller than Shalendris and quite nearly as curvaceous, with goliath purple breasts that struggled for space within the overburdened purple shirt she wore, miles of cleavage overflowing from the inadequate garment. Her hips wider than her shoulders by a fair margin, were able to pull even Shalendris's lustful gaze from the fat tits above, the elf's eyes resting momentarily on the abundant curves before her. Deep, purple fists came to rest on those hips, then.

"Hrm! Eyes are up here, darlink," rang the stranger's voice, clearing her throat to capture the Kaldorei's attention. With mock offense etched onto her delicate countenance, she continued: "I have heard you are in the pain, yes? Problems with tee-tees?" Her eyes glanced down at Shalendris's chest, the elf having just managed to pull her gaze from the woman's alluring physique for a moment.

Shalendris nodded quickly. "Yes, that is correct... I-"

"You can do the explaining while we are headinks to my parlor. I am Zoranaya," interrupted the gigantic woman with a polite bow, her fat, braless breasts swinging about slightly within her shirt, threatening to burst out into the open, were the Draenei to make any sudden movements. Straightening, she stared into Shalendris's eyes for a moment, blowing a strand of white hair from her forehead. "Come, come," she urged, gesturing towards the exit. "Arkaa, your teacher told me you are behind on studies! Take time off to do readinks, yes?"

The young woman nodded meekly towards Shalendris and Zoranaya. "Yes, of course," the Anchorite said, visibly a little saddened. Putting into practice the things one learns is always much more fun than the learning itself, she thought.

The inside of Zoranaya's dwelling was a little more cramped than Shalendris had anticipated, as the rest of the Exodar seemed far more spacious despite its crashed state. "Have you been a masseuse for very long?" asked the night elf, dodging a hanging decoration of thread-linked gems.

"Ma-sooz?" blinked the enormous Draenei, opening a metallic door into a wider room. "I am a shaman! But I have learned massage business over last five thousand years. I am gettinks pretty good," grinned the purple-skinned woman, tucking a strand of hair behind an ear.

The large room was sparsely decorated, perhaps contributing to the feeling of it being larger than the other rooms and corridors Shalendris had seen in Zoranaya's home and place of business. At the center of that area, illuminated by a single glowing orb, stood a massage table. On their left, a few feet from the entrance, Shalendris spotted a series of shelves with folded up towels while the right wall seemed to be home to a multitude of vials -- massage oils if she had to guess their nature.

The Draenei patted the cushioned table a few times. "When you are ready, get undressed and ring the bell. I vill be back to-"

"Um..." Shalendris glanced to the table, then back to her own chest. "I don't think this table is adapted," the woman remarked, noting that there was no hole or indentation of any kind to allow her to rest on her front.

Zoranaya placed her palm to her forehead briefly. "I knew I was forgettinks something!" Leaning over, she unclasped a single latch on the side of the table before pulling on the two ends of the table. The table split at the correct height, a flap of leather falling down between the two halves of the table, large enough even to hold a considerable bust like Shalendris's. "There we go! Put the clothing on the chair over there and get comfortable." The Draenei gave a few nods before slipping out of the room and closing the door behind her.

The night elf began stripping immediately, first removing the reddish-brown leather bra she wore to allow her boulder-sized tits to bounce into view, dinner-plate-sized areolae surrounding nipples twice as thick as her thumbs and equally as long. She ran her hands atop the monumental mammaries, fingers simply caressing the soft skin. Oh, how bloated they felt. She bit her lower lip as her digits came into contact with the thick, oversized nipples, sending electric tingles through her entire body.

Placing her garments in the designated area, she then proceeded to pull off her heavy skirt of leather and furs, throwing the thing near the huge bra. Atop the pile, she placed the delicate moonstone pendant she wore, making sure it wouldn't get in the way during the massage. When that was done, she placed herself upon the massage table, nude save for a pair of simple black panties that dug into her voluptuous posterior almost painfully.

"Um, I'm ready," Shalendris said as loudly as she could without shouting, unsure if there was any other way to signal a masseuse that she was done stripping.

Barely a moment later, the door opened and Zoranaya stepped in, the top of her head brushing against the doorframe. Shalendris immediately noticed that the Draenei had changed outfits, the woman's deep purple skin now covered by a thin white robe, clinging to every delicate curve of her tantalizing form. The soft white light coming from the illuminating orb hovering above allowed one to see the dark skin beneath the barely-there cloth.

She isn't wearing anything underneath, Shalendris thought. With the elf's eyes locked onto the approaching Draenei's form, she noted, too, the heavy swinging behemoth between her legs. The Kaldorei was no prude and no stranger to endowments of this size. Every step brought with it a meaty smack as the woman's overgrown prick slapped against her thigh, reaching her knees in its soft state.

Zoranaya allowed her eyes to roam briefly along Shalendris's back, the night elf's long hair hanging by the side of the table, her gigantic breasts held up by the leather hammock of the massage table, and the twin orbs of her huge, round rump, devouring the inadequate silk panties she'd worn. "I preferred changing into something a little more comfortable," the shaman said softly, reaching for a vial on a nearby shelf. "One cannot make others comfortable if they are not themselves comfortable, you agree?"