Who a King Must Do Ch. 60

Sylvanas' fingers drummed on the armrest of her throne. The thing, originally built for an orc, made her smaller than she, a tall elven woman, actually was. Bolted together from metal and wood, in the typical crude yet dangerous style of the greenskins, Sylvanas found it to be tastelessly primitive compared to the old architecture of Lordaeron and, especially, the graceful towers of Silvermoon.

Two places she was not able to return to thanks to Anduin.

The thought of the man made her tremble all over. Guards inside the room stood a little taller. The Dark Lady's patience had been thin ever since she returned from the Shattered Isles and seemed to only grow thinner by the day. That was from the only fact about her that changed, however.

Her thighs were thicker, plump and meaty, her tits notably larger, and both were on a much greater display than before. An undersized, armoured-bra squished her greyish blue breasts into a mouth-watering display and all she wore for her lower half was a thong and a pair of thigh-high leather boots. A decorative cape hanging from shoulder pads and gloves both served to hide nothing at all.

Any lecherous gazes towards her were immediately hidden when her red eyes waved over her war council. Everyone was too afraid to point out her looks or choice of attire. Business continued as usual, with them giving her reports of all of the places the Horde was losing. There was no front where the Alliance wasn't slowly pushing ahead, establishing beach heads all over, while all Sylvanas could do was to continuously pull back to conserve what strength the Horde still had.

'These brutes could at least be useful for something!' Sylvanas growled inside her mind. She shifted on her throne, changed the order of her crossed legs, and stared at one guard in particular. Orc honour guards were disciplined, she had to give them that much, but the blood of these greenskins pumped hard and the erection even less voluntary than it would have been in a human.

Intensely, Sylvanas stared at the guard. He did nothing. Just stood there, afraid, with his cock lifting his loincloth. The guards didn't know why they had been reacting so intensely to her recently. Sylvanas had always been sexy, now she seemed like she was just made to be fucked. None of them acted on it, however.

"Out!" Sylvanas suddenly shouted, in the middle of yet another report how Anduin had penetrated the outer defences. "All of you, out!" Her outwardly irate demand was rapidly met, the central chamber of the warchief's 'palace' emptying out into the plaza of Orgrimmar.

Heavily breathing, feeling her faint heartbeat accelerated, the Banshee Queen sat in her throne and waited for the gate to close itself. The instance it did, she stuffed her hand down her thong and grabbed the base of the hand-carved dildo she had stuffed inside her the whole day. Biting the lower of her purple lips, she reduced her scream to a drawn-out moan.

In-out, in-out, rapidly, the elf with the pale, grey-blonde hair worked her cunt. The buttplug inside her other hole only made the masturbation that much more intense. Horny to the extreme, it did not take long to make herself cum. One foot was at the edge of the throne, the other on the floor, and both dug their high heels into the wood as her hips arched off the seat.

"Harder... harder..." she begged whoever dared conquer her. Desperately, she tried to keep pumping the dildo in and out, but the pleasure proved too much and her muscles eventually refused any further orders. Her fat ass landed back on the throne, its bounciness cushioning the impact. Heavily breathing, Sylvanas gulped, then immediately surrendered to the urges and started masturbating again.

Every day passed like this. Her body just did not stop tingling. Her meetings were cut short. Being out in public excited her. Actively, she craved a man that was balls enough to take advantage of her. She was wearing such utterly slutty clothes, they had to be enticed by her. All they were, however, was afraid of her. Just like that orc, a massive warrior, that had been clearly erect and too scared to do anything about it.

'Obviously, I would make him submit in no time. All I want is a man that proves he has initiative, not a pathetic toy,' Sylvanas reasoned to herself. Then, an unwelcome thought crossed her mind, 'Why are none of them as good as him? He takes what he wants. Anduin Llane Wrynn!' Just as she thought that name, she managed to suddenly reach a second orgasm.

It so much more intense than the first. Her folds clenched around the enormous, wooden dildo, while she pushed two fingers deep into her mouth, sucking on them and swirling with her tongue. She did it to break up her ecstatic cries -- at least that's what she told herself. Teasing the back of her mouth felt fantastic, prolonged her orgasm, and left her wishing for something that went deeper. A lot deeper.

The second orgasm did just as little to calm her as the first. It would take many more, before she was in a state to lead again. Perhaps it would have been wise to put down the mantle and give it to someone else. That thought, however, did not even occur. Sylvanas was in too deep and surrounded by too much incompetence to give up now.

Being out in public got her riled up and something about these meetings was just that much worse. Just sitting there, listening to the Alliance newest exploits of victory and orgies, it just got her slow heartbeat riled up. It must have been anger that then accelerated the resurfacing of her constant lust. That was the only explanation how hearing about Anduin fucking one of his many broodmares could get her in this state.

Suddenly, while remembering one of her many spying sessions, she came again. Her legs were spread wide, like the legs of Jaina had been while she was getting pounded on that obscenely large couch they called a throne. Anyone that came in would have been able to see the Dark Lady hammering her cunt with a dildo. That her thong was in the way would have obscured nothing. It was a miracle she went unnoticed so far.

'Spying... session...?' she thought, pushing the toy back inside her to the hilt. 'Right... time to validate... what he is doing...' She trembled all over with need. 'If I'm doing this, I might as well be productive as I do.'

Sylvanas left the throne and started walking. She bit her lower lips, each large stride she took causing the duality of toys to stimulate both of her holes. How good it must have felt to be actually fucked from both ends. She had never gotten to experience something like that in her life. If only there was a man, assertive and dominant enough to impress her, that could take her on both ends simultaneously. Recruiting two for the job... no, that did not sit right. She needed ONE man to serve her needs.

One man would already be more than she had ever had.

Pussy juice was running down the inside of her thighs, by the time she reached her quarters. They were unguarded, as per her wishes, and her wishes were absolute. All obeyed the Dark Lady -- the wimps.

Sylvanas took her off her breastplate and breathed a little freer when her tits bounced free, no longer confined to an uncomfortable holder that she only wore for effect. Perhaps she also wore it because it was uncomfortable -- only to distract herself from how sensitive her hard nipples were, of course.

Rolling one of her tits in her hand, she had to do the rest of her undressing one-handed. Even in life, once she had started to masturbate, she had been unable to stop herself. No matter how risky, no matter who was about to catch her, when Sylvanas had snuck out into the forest to finger herself to multiple orgasms, she would only cease once satisfied. Those old habits had died with her and now returned with a vengeance. She felt like she had years of orgasms to catch up on and her fingers did their best to fulfil that wish.

The metal of her gloves, shaped like claws, pressed deeply enough into the soft flesh of her abundant breasts to hurt, but not enough to cut. Metal alone would not have been able to pierce her undead skin anyway. Not that she was a true undead any longer. She was something between alive and raised now.

Pinching the erect nipple that crowned the greyish blue of her smooth skin, of her large, firm tits, Sylvanas squirmed in front of the mirror. Wiggle for wiggle of her wide hips, she worked her way out of her decorated thong. The piece of metal and leather was difficult to get over the sheer magnificence of her ass, especially with how sticky it was by now.

'Child-bearing hips,' the thought crossed Sylvanas' mind, almost climaxing from the idea alone. The reaction confused her. Why would she, an immortal, need to bear children? What fulfilment would there be in seeing the offspring of herself and a worthy man grow in her womb and then from a small baby to a upright member of the world? She shoved the thought aside, concentrating on her selfish pleasure as best she could.

Finally, the thong fell to the floor, revealing the curved base of the custom-made dildo, covering her pussy lips. Her shoulder pads, gloves, and thigh-highs were all removed swiftly, leaving the grey-blonde woman fully naked. Nodding at herself and her stunning beauty, she understood why no one dared disobey her. Who would ever dare consider her in their league? Only women like Alexstrasza or that damned Jaina Proudmoore could rival her beauty. Red eyes, surrounded by black, mascara like-remains of necromantic magic, stared into the mirror as she concentrated.

Soon the enchantments on the mirror activated and revealed to her a location in the Dustwallow Marsh. An important location, for sentimental reasons most of all: the crater of Theramore Isle.

Except it was barely a crater anymore.

What Sylvanas looked at was a steadily expanding mass of rock that rose high, higher than the old island, above the waves. It was larger as well, with its borders expanding steadily south and eastwards, gradually assuming a crescent shape that was perfect for a harbour. Vegetation was springing up all over the place, as the remainders of toxic arcane energy, leftovers from the bomb that had eradicated the city, were cleansed.

All of this was happening under their watch.

Anduin Llane Wrynn sat in a large, comfortable throne woven from plant life and rock. The seat was way too wide for him, but he shared it with Jaina Proudmoore and Ysera the Green. Both were pressed against him, kissing his naked torso. Between his legs, Tyrande was bobbing her head like a common whore, getting used like her kind should be. 'Night elves are pathetic,' Sylvanas thought, while she stumbled over to her watching chair. Her body was burning with renewed need.

The chair was a highly improvised solution to a variety of problems, all of which began and ended with the need to get her holes stuffed at varying angles. Confiscating and modifying various goblin machines had been rather easy for the Dark Lady and now she had a monstrosity of a masturbation aid, equipped with all sorts of gadgets to help her get off. The dildos on the various arms were, almost without exception, of a uniform, impressive size.

'I've pleased these holes enough for the moment,' Sylvanas told herself, pulling dildo and butt plug out of her. She moaned as she did, the gaping holes twitched, then she sat down and grabbed one of the many metal arms attached to the chair or the floor around it. She pulled it in front of her and began to suck, bobbing up and down with a competitive pace, while following the events in the mirror.

The security measures Anduin had over Stormwind were too strong for Sylvanas' spying techniques to cut through. What his true body was doing, Sylvanas never knew. Recently, Anduin had been popping up all over the place, including at two or more places at the same time. With his endlessly expanding list of tricks, it was safer to assume he had learned how to create simulacrums of himself than simple illusions being at work. Now he didn't even need to leave his palace to lead the frontlines.

'Maybe that is his real body?' Sylvanas wondered. She dismissed it as impossible. What ruler would have gone to the frontlines like that when they could have been safe at home? The Dark Lady herself only ever lead engagements she knew she would win. 'But a true man would rise to all challenges.'

She chased the thought away while deepthroating his cock, just like Tyrande was doing at the moment. The rigid wood felt good in her throat, but it was so boring in its texture and temperature. For no reason whatsoever, as Anduin threw his head back, Sylvanas grabbed a part of the mechanical arm that triggered a stream of thick aphrodisiac to pump out of the dildo.

The stream continued, shot for shot. Slowly, she pulled back, until the dildo was released from her deep purple lips. The pinkish white liquid continued to shoot out, squirting over her large tits and her face. She smiled, loving the way the four spurts layered on her greyish blue skin. Glancing up, she saw the absolutely drenched state of Tyrande's ecstatic expression and the layer of gooey white that covered all of her medium sized breasts. Annoyed, Sylvanas clenched the grip again, but the tank of aphrodisiac for that dildo was already empty.

'It just looks like more on her tiny tits,' the Dark Lady thought, raising her massive mammaries with both hands. Only Alexstrasza sported larger tits than her, only Jaina, Onyxia and Fenella competed with her. She rubbed the aphrodisiac into her skin, making her smooth skin glisten, and almost came just from accidentally teasing her nipples. 'And I must have swallowed way more than she did!'

Both what was on her skin and in her belly made her feel warm and fuzzy all over. Obviously, she was swallowing aphrodisiac to heighten her sensitivity and get her lust dealt with quicker. That was all there was to it. Sitting still, she concentrated on observing the scene. She had to prove she could hold herself back when she needed to.

Anduin's cock was untended to, something the various women on and around the throne were clearly unhappy with. Beyond Jaina, Ysera and Tyrande, Alexstrasza, Onyxia, and Stellagosa were also present. Four Dragon Aspects, an Arch Mage, the High Priestess of Elune, the High King of the Alliance, and a whole landing party. It was the largest attack force that had landed in Kalimdor since the start of these new hostilities. All of them had been aboard that massive metal ship that the Alliance navy had gained recently. Its plating was so thick that regular cannons just bounced right off and even though it had no sails, it moved many times quicker than any other vessel.

Had the Horde maintained naval dominance in other fields, there could have been hope. Between the fleets of Kul'tiras and the improved, rapidly developed fleet of the Alliance, any Horde mission on the high seas had a less than 20% chance of succeeding. They had no supply points anymore, few vessels, were technologically left in the dust, and were running out of manpower.

And now Anduin was building a new, massive port city in striking distance of Orgrimmar.

Sylvanas' hand crept towards her cunt. The final fight was not terribly far away. Deep down, Sylvanas felt that Anduin could march on them whenever he wanted. Her fingers curved inside her and she moaned loud. The High King was capable of laying siege to the Horde's capital at any point, but he didn't, because he could still make this cage around her tighter. Rapidly, she was masturbating, but her fingers weren't enough. Anduin wouldn't stop preparing until the dominance of his forces, his dominance, was absolute. Desperately, Sylvanas stuffed one of the dildos into her cunt and began to ride it like Jaina was now riding her husband -- reverse cowgirl style.

Anduin Llane Wrynn, the greatest of all men and conqueror of Azeroth, would not risk a single loss in an attack he could delay however long he wanted. He would tease and prod Sylvanas' forces, exhaust her every option, tangle her up in a tight network of his design and then, when he desired, strike to make the Horde submit. All vestiges of pride would be lost, final resistance broken and he would be ruler of everything.

All she could do is put up a futile resistance, until he decided to end it all.

Sylvanas plunged down one more time, suddenly and intensely squirting all over he chair. Her arms were crossed behind her back, her ass thrust out as if presenting it to someone behind her, and the intensity of the climax eliminated even the memory of ever having attempted to exercise a modicum of self-control. Gushing over and over again, the Dark Lady bounced on the dildo, her eyes threatening to roll up. With all her will, she kept them focused on the mirror.

"Shooo good, shooooooo goooooooood, Mashtaahhhhrrrr," she read Jaina's lips. Her orgasm grew more intense with every passing second. Impossibly, her heart drummed with the intensity of a fully alive person, while she drenched the large dildo, her seat, her rippling thighs, and the floor. Each time she slammed all the way down, droplets of her pussy juice were sent flying. Straddling nothing that was truly there, she threatened to topple over, but still refused to use her hands to help her balance. Her pale blonde hair flew in wild cascade, as she thrashed from pleasure and in a desperate attempt to stay upright. "Inshide meeeee," Sylvanas kept on reading the queen's lips, "Cum inshideee me MASHTAAAAAAAAAAAHR!"

Only to press the button, she broke the self-imposed limit on her hands. The moment the aphrodisiac pumped into her, everything went white. An orgasm stronger than everything she had experienced before rippled through her. Finally, she could no longer keep watch of the mirror. If she could have, all she would have found was that she and Jaina both were totally frozen in a moment of bliss. If she could have, she would have only seen the true intensity of ecstasy on the queen's face, running so much deeper than anything her attempts to mimic the High King's cock could create.

When Sylvanas started to come back to her senses, she laid heavily breathing on the floor. Still, her cunt gushed irregularly. In the depths of her depravity, one thought surfaced. 'Hurry up and conquer me already, worthy man.'

That snapped her right out of her lust. A terrible, cold anger rose inside herself. A seething self-hatred, that purged the intent behind that thought in an instant. ANY worthy man, not him, that was what she meant. She needed someone worthy of conquering her, to fight him for her. Nothing else. What else could it be. She was Sylvanas Windrunner, Dark Lady of the Horde.

Not another elven slave.