Who a King Must Do Ch. 54

Just a quick announcement to Welldark readers out there, I've already submitted the chapter more than a month ago but since it has images it's being delayed due to site upgrades and I'm also told it just takes them more time since they have to put it in their database, so it's coming don't worry!

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Sylvanas stumbled into her quarters. Her legs were weak, her entire body shook and she felt hot, as if she had a fever. All of these sensations, all of them, were alien to her, ever since she had been turned into a banshee. Recovering her body had changed nothing about it. Now these emotions surged, growing stronger with each minute since her return.

It had started with that blast of magic. It had taken out her strike force, Nathanos included. A hefty loss of resources. Luckily, politically inconsequential. Sylvanas' position was already precarious. Her personal combat-power kept any attempt by the orcs and trolls to usurp her leadership in line. Having them and the eternally loyal Forsaken was already enough to pull together a force second only to the Alliance. It was, however, second and grew more decisively so by the day. The blood elves had joined the Alliance, the tauren could not be trusted to have her back, the goblins were disjointed at the best of times and reports had it that there was an exodus to Booty Bay by the female goblins. The males could be kept by promises of money and careless experimentation alone, but many of the women had additional interest in other massive things than sums.

Thinking about it made Sylvanas aware of the clothing on her skin. It rubbed against her in an equally pleasing and bothersome fashion. Her skin felt sensitive. Leather and plate felt confining, particularly around chest and hips, despite being hand-crafted for her. She often scrubbed dirt off her hardened skin, otherwise the armour was meant to stay on her at all times. It protected the integrity of her body. Even as an undead, she needed to keep her physical vessel intact. Because hers was such a fantastic tool of diplomacy through seduction, she kept her looks pristine, her clothes enticing. It crossed her mind why she had ever exchanged her old, sluttier armour for this new, more protective variant when her skin was harder than the leather. She desperately wanted it off her.

Nobody would have dared enter her quarters without her permission. She undid the clasps on her armour. A trail of metal and leather accompanied her, as she stumbled towards the bed that she had never once used. She needed to lie down. Today had been an utter failure at the end of a chain of massive setbacks. On the way, she came across a mirror. Her craving for the bed suddenly stopped when she saw herself.

The grey in her skin had diminished minorly, leaving a blue shade that felt minorly more alive. Similarly, the colour of her hair, the long-faded blonde, had intensified slightly. The earlier tightness of her clothes was explained by a much more notable increase of size in her already large bosom, ass and thighs. Particularly the latter was notable. Thick and smooth, extending from wide hips that made up the bottom part of her hourglass figure, her legs looked absolutely fantastic. The red of her eyes had retreated to her irises. Her sclera had retreated to a regular white.

Sylvanas took a trembling step towards the mirror and looked at herself with wide eyes. She looked more beautiful than ever. Her dark lips had shifted slightly towards a deep purple, and the crowns atop her large, firm breasts were of a purplish pink that rose distinctly from the rest of her flawlessly smooth skin.

Raising one finger to her lips, she gently brushed over them. She gasped, the long lost sensitivity tingled. Instinctively, the hand travelled down her slender neck and over the choker -- the only part of her outfit that she still wore, down to her breasts. "Ah!" she cried, when roughly taking hold of her left tit. Behind it, she felt it.

Ba-dump.

A faint heartbeat. Too fragile and weak to be called life. What kept her body moving was still, without a doubt, necromantic power. Her skin was cold, warmer than before but still cold, and the blood that circulated through her did so too slowly to sustain biological function. She felt no hunger. She was something between undead and resurrected.

"What is... happening... to me...?" she sighed, while playing with her left tit. She couldn't bring herself to stop those circular motions. Her right hand moved on, down her flat, softly toned midriff, instead. Forcing her fingers between her clenched thighs, she felt an impossible trickling. Quickly she withdrew her hand and looked at her fingers. They glistened, the fluid that stuck to them stretched in gooey strands when she fanned them out.

She was wet.

Sylvanas tried to ignore the realization and get her urges under control. Certainly, she had been a masturbation addict in life, but those times were long past. No longer did she have the urges to sneak out at night and finger herself in the forest or masturbate in a room right after an important meeting had taken place (or while it was happening). No one had ever caught her. 'No one ever will, those urges died,' she told herself.

A moment later, she saw her expression in the mirror. Looking back at her was a glassy-eyed, panting mess. One that couldn't help but keep fondling her chest. Her right hand wandered back between her legs and she shouted loudly, when her fingers curved inside her. In a flash of pleasure, her resolution was gone, and the need took its place.

Closing her eyes from the surging pleasure and to shield herself from seeing herself in the mirror, Sylvanas kept fingering her overflowing cunt. Honey kept on trickling down between her legs. It made a mess of her hand and the inside of her thighs.

She lost her balance and fell down on the thick carpet. The impact was painless, although she caused a great many things to fall on her way down. She kept her eyes closed, now lying on her back. Her legs were now parted widely. Accelerated fingers rubbed her clit feverishly, as her moans filled the isolated chamber. Her hips bucked off the ground from the occasional highpoints of pleasure.

The rough fondling of her juicy, large tit was no longer enough. Sylvanas pinched the hard nipple, following intuition. That did the job better. The pain, a sensation she hadn't lost but had been considerably dulled until now, mixed with the pleasure and the pressure of the choker and created a wonderful sensation. It fulfilled her depraved desires enough that she felt herself grow steadily towards a release.

Nipple twisted, toes curled, and fingers slickly sliding off her clit repeatedly, Sylvanas' voice rose from her commanding pitch all the way to the shouts of a total slut. Finally, her pleasure peaked and her hips shot up to their highest point. She twisted on the carpet, incapable of controlling her spasming muscles. Soon, her hands were forced to stop. She remained, overtaken by shivers, for about ten seconds, before finally collapsing down, breathing heavily.

'He did this to me,' Sylvanas thought, opening her eyes. She was lying in the middle of a mess of fine carving tools. Thrall, Garrosh and Vol'jin had used them to maintain their tusks, hence why they were next to the mirror. Sylvanas hadn't cared about the quarters before, and so left them. 'He did... what did he do to me exactly?'

Now that her mind was cleared of the fog of lust for a moment, she could consider what state, exactly, her body was in. She had a faint heartbeat, her curves had been emphasized, largely due to the revival of long dormant/dead tissue, and many of her other organs were, if only minorly, active. Anduin had returned her to partial life. Logic suggested that he could return her fully.

Was this not exactly what she wanted?

'No!' Sylvanas banished that thought. 'I want immortality -- eternal existence. Life is too fragile, an eternal undead existence is secure.' She swallowed hard, feeling a little tingle between her legs return. As she kept thinking, her fingers resumed their work between her legs. 'He must have put some kind of control spell on me... no... no... I know what those feel like...'

Shuddering in a definitively unpleasant manner, Sylvanas recalled the time she had spent under the coil of the Lich King. The involuntary loss of control and the fury that had grown inside her. This wasn't anything like it, she still could make her own decisions. Raising her unoccupied left hand and sucking on her fingers while she masturbated, that was all her.

'Am I as much a repressed slut as the other elves?' she thought and quickly sealed that thought away somewhere deep, where the fact that she didn't want to know the answer couldn't bother her. She leaned fully into the heat of the moment to empty her mind of any such questions. Her tongue whirled around the two fingers that thrust in and out of her mouth. Soon she sucked on them, lips tightly closed. It felt unsatisfying. Her fingers were too slender.

She needed something thicker, harder and longer.

The second orgasm she had left her needing for more. It was a stopgap measure, a moment that let her concentrate on what she truly needed. She fully ignored any reason why she was this horny, why she desperately craved a large cock down her throat, and she did it by just accepting the instinct and aiming to indulge herself. Rolling towards a weapon's rack, she grabbed a sword and sliced a segment out of the wooden walls of her quarters.

Crude as the orc's architecture was, the materials were still of high quality. The long piece of wood would make for a fine base, on which to expand. 'I should try to see what Anduin is doing now,' Sylvanas thought. She had spied on him at every opportunity, as was proper when dealing with the heart of enemy operations. Nothing would be off if she did it now, right?

She flung a spell at the mirror. It connected to the traces of her arrows, shot into the Halls of Valour. It was too weak to be manipulated for any nefarious purposes. Stealthy observations were more than possible.

She saw an orgy of the Valarjar, gradually expanding, and Anduin sitting on his throne, getting fellatio by the Naaru and the Old Goddess. With a flick of her wrist, she zoomed in further. Anduin was sitting on Odyn's throne. 'Nathanos' arrow succeeded at killing him,' she realized. The initial moment of glee was ruined when she realized what Anduin being present at the seat of power meant. 'That useless fool, even in his last moment he failed me,' she cursed at the now dead ranger. The disappointment was easily waved away, almost as easily as any grief she might have felt. Nathanos had only been alive by her desire and he had been a pathetically loyal lapdog. Not a man, just a tool.

Sylvanas placed the piece of wood on a workbench in view of the mirror and started gathering the carving tools. As a learned ranger of Silvermoon, she had millennia of experience at woodcraft. With fast, well-aimed movements, she reduced the log into a phallic shape. Her pussy juices pooled on the leather of her seat, a short stool, flowing continuously as she worked. Every so often, she snuck another glance at the mirror.

She witnessed the transformation of the other Val'kyr and their suggestion of being servants. If she could have worked with just one hand, she would have. However, she needed this dildo to take shape. Stroking the length tightly with sandpaper, she smoothened the surface. Carefully, she shaped the glans. At the base, a pair of large balls marked just how deep this thing could go into her.

Sylvanas deliberately forewent the consideration that this thing she was carving was a near perfect copy of Anduin's cock. All her trained eyes could spy, every vein and every measurement, she translated onto what her hands were doing. A final coating of magical polish, drying within seconds, and her work was complete.

When she finally held it in her hand, she felt a wave of doubt. Would something this size even go down her mouth? Her sexual experience in life had been scarce and she certainly had not sucked something of this size before. The twitching of her cunt demanded that she try and so she placed the tip of her dildo against her lips.

It was just the right size. She had to open her mouth wide to accommodate it. Her sensitive lips stretched around the head. Taking it inside, she swirled her tongue around it. It wasn't quite right, cold, uniformly hard, smooth, and tasting of lacquer as it was. It was so, so much better than her slender fingers, however.

Sylvanas knew she would lose her balance and went back to the rug in front of the mirror. Anduin had just begun the proper integration of the Val'kyr into his harem. In front of him kneeled Eyir, her throat getting fucked mercilessly.

The sight animated Sylvanas, and she pushed the dildo down her throat. It was intimidating, having this foreign object create a visible bulge down her neck. She had to tilt her head, to give the hard wood the proper angle. Her choker burst open, unable to withstand the pressure. The rest of the dildo slammed down and she let out a muffled scream.

Heat overcame her. She didn't need air, not really, but the minimally returned biological functions still insisted on it. The asphyxiation made her tingle with excitement. The faux-balls rested against her chin and were quickly stained with saliva. Her left hand grabbed her pussy and in a hurry curved inside. Drenched, her tight cunt greeted her eagerly and with sensitivity that she couldn't have fathomed before.

Wet and desperate sounds filled the room, while Sylvanas fucked her pussy with her fingers and her throat with the dildo. Her red eyes were focused on the mirror. Distantly, she tried, and failed, to match the pace at which Anduin ravaged Eyir's throat. Her will turned the angle of her view, letting her witness exactly what was happening in whatever way she wished.

She came. Hard. Harder than she had ever before. Her eyelids fluttered, the entire world was forgotten. For a few glorious moments of bliss, all of her anger and bitter hatred was gone. There was only the climax and that view in the mirror. Anduin kept fucking Eyir's throat, not done with her yet. Sylvanas lay on the carpet and willed herself to continue. She could not give in before he did. Her pride as an elf would not allow herself to collapse before the High King did.

After three more orgasms, Sylvanas finally got to take a break. She thought he was done now. At the back of her mind, she knew better. She had witnessed enough of his sexual wonders to know the High King was never truly done. Eyir was made to step aside, and the first of the regular Val'kyr stepped forwards.

Sylvanas was ready to continue hammering her throat, when that Val'kyr was suddenly pulled on the throne and penetrated. In a flurry of motions, the Dark Lady sat up and magically adhered the cock to the ground. As she straddled it, it remained perfectly upright. Just like the Val'kyr, Sylvanas descended on the cock. For the first time in an eternity, her cunt was penetrated. For the first time in her entire existence, something went that deep. It didn't occur to her to stop. She needed it inside her. She needed this long, thick, girthy cock to stretch her out.

The moans of the banshee were muffled by the return of her fingers. Inadequate as they were, they were better than nothing. Doing her best to mimic the speed of the sex she voyeuristically partook in, she imagined herself above Anduin. Kneeling over the blonde man's crotch, enveloping his cock with her tight folds, grinning down at him as she brought him closer and closer to orgasm. He would sit there, helplessly, a toy -- until he grabbed her fat ass with those strong hands of his. They would come down with a loud...

SMACK!

Sylvanas brought the hand down on her own ass, stopping for a moment as the sting of pain elevated the experience. The scene before her continued, as did her fantasy. Anduin didn't care that she was taken by a spasm, He used his grip on her ass and thrust upwards. Although she was on top, she would never be in charge.

All that differentiated Sylvanas' fantasy and solo play from the scene in the mirror was the bliss. No matter how hard she tried, she could not reach the speed and the Val'kyrs, no matter which one, came more frequently and harder than she did. They squirted and screamed, while she overflowed and gasped. She mimicked it all, down to the poses, and only took pauses when there was a break between servants getting broken in.

Then Anduin called Eyir back and fucked her ass. No sanity was left to stop her momentum. A hole she previously hadn't even thought about using stretched around the head of the dildo as if it had always been meant to be used that way. Pussy juice lubricated the entire process. Once the swift descent was done, she felt yet another new height of pleasure. The journey of bliss didn't seem to end.

With the Anduin-sized dildo filling her virgin asshole, Sylvanas leaned back and screamed. Something deep inside her contracted, and love juices squirted from her cunt in a way she had witnessed several times in the past half hour, but not yet been able to achieve herself. The release was near absolute, yet left her craving for more.

Once he went back to breeding the Val'kyr, she moved slowly for the first time. She didn't want the dildo to leave her ass, but staying in tune with the scene gratified her desires. After hastily cleaning the dildo, she penetrated herself again.

Sylvanas wasn't sure what happened at the end. The absolute flurry of her motions had her blonde hair fly, her large tits ripple, and her feeling more alive than ever. What was meant to be the baleful wailing voice of a banshee was contorted into sweet, depraved moans that bounced around the isolated chamber. Everything mounted, to one last orgasm.

Eyelids fluttered, white lightning danced in her field of vision, her every muscle shivered and warm waves washed down her spine. The dark lady's pussy contracted around the hard dildo she knelt on. Her thighs tensed, showing the fitness under the squishy fat, raising her up a little bit involuntarily. Then they relaxed, sending her back down. One hand clawed at her tits, creating deep trenches in the jiggly flesh, the other was raised to her lips to give her something to suck on.

Like that, she spasmed for a minute, unable to perceive anything around her. When it was over, she blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Aftershocks made her moan with every little turn she made. The mirror was inactive now. Trying to re-establish the connection was unsuccessful.

'That bastard,' Sylvanas thought. Her mind stayed clear of the sexual confusion she still felt and clung onto the anger. Whatever was happening, Anduin had started it and that made him responsible. Even if it wasn't mind control, she would assign all the blame for her cravings on him. She rose on shaky legs and looked over to her armour. 'I don't need to cover that much skin,' she reminded herself. 'My skin is harder than this leather anyway, so why bother putting it on?'

Putting her boots and gloves on was simple enough. Her cloak felt perfect where it was, including the shoulder pads. She looked at herself in the mirror, at the absolute seductiveness of her curves, and wondered if she should bother covering any of them up. Swaying breasts would have been a hindrance in combat, so she convinced herself of wearing her chest plate -- and only the chest plate. The metal covered her breasts, while leaving her midriff and cleavage visible. Both looked better than before and since her breasts were now a cup size larger, the metal squished them in, creating a visual feast.