Worgen's Dream

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All characters and individual material is © Daniel Riverton 2011. All rights Reserved.

©2004 Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. All rights reserved. World of Warcraft, Warcraft and Blizzard Entertainment are trademarks or registered trademarks of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. in the U.S. and/or other countries.

This is fan fiction only. This work may not be reproduced for commercial, marketing republishing or copying purposes. The work is sexual in nature and may not be to everyone's individual taste. Please do not continue reading unless 18 years or older.

Just a quick little story, again written on a few coffee breaks about a year ago. Feel free to let us know if you like it, we appreciate all comments!

Year 39, Stormwind, Harbor District

In a small room below the eaves of a quaint Stormwind inn, Herland Hagensworth dreamed of times gone months ago. Currently -- and as often as he could -- he tried to remain in his more familiar human form. Whenever the rage of battle took him however, the worgen came to him far too easily- Whenever he had a chance, he preferred this form to the beast.

Tonight, his dreams were different from the usually blood-infused terror that characterized his nocturnal fantasies and recollections. It was almost three years ago..

Year 36, Gilneas, 20 leagues outside of Gilneas City, Hagensworth Manor

Herland was bored. He strode through the corridors of the massive manse and glanced only momentarily at the unique, precious wall hangings draped across the walls. The house was so gloomy at times! It was dark, dank and dreary, not to mention the permanent feeling of moisture that -- despite the fact that it wasn't really moist -- was always there. Probably Gilneas, he thought with a sigh.

Walking through corridors and halls, he ignored the two elderly servants he saw dusting and cleaning. One of them was polishing a precious vase, another cleaning a high window.

His father and mother were out for the evening. They had left their 18-year old son -- him -- at home however, not wanting him along when meeting with the King to discuss some of the trouble they had heard brewing in the rest of the world. Their wall closed them off quite effectively, but a small trickle of news -- the most important -- still managed to penetrate into their small but prosperous nation.

And so he had been left at home, bored and with nothing to do. His fencing teacher was gone for the day. Books held very little interest to him -- none of the ones his mother had in their library were racy enough! - and that left very little to do.

He reached the doors that lead to his room. The two massive doors made from strong Darkoak were ornamented with silver handles. He grasped both handles and threw them open, letting them make quite satisfying and resounding crashes against the stone wall.

...and interrupted a young servant in the process of polishing a silver candlestick with a thick, linen cloth. To him, it looked like she was about to stuff the ornamental, beautiful piece down her clothing. Perhaps to filch it.

He frowned.

"Jessamine? What are you doing with Grandfather's candlestick?" He stepped toward her, making the lass take an uncertain step back. He prided himself on knowing some of the servants names.

Particularly those of the young, pretty girls. Jessamine was a eighteen-year-old almost his own height. But despite their near-equal height and her full-bosomed strong-seeming build, she was the one who flinched when his frown deepened.

"Nothin, M'lord! Just cleaning it, I am!" She held up the cloth as if to prove it and began rubbing the silver fastidiously, her hands trembling visibly.

He stepped toward her slowly, his steps echoing on the uncarpeted parts of the stone floor. Every such step seemed to make her flinch.

Well, he conceded when he stood in front of her. He was half a head taller and far more broad-shouldered. But it was true, she was no quaint, frail dove, this one. He grabbed her wrist holding the cloth and she froze, looking up at him with the eyes of a startled rabbit.

"M'lord?" She said with a quavering, thickly accented voice betraying the low birth he knew she had.

The cut of her dress allowed a generous view of ample cleavage and hinted of sizeable breasts. Without shame -- indeed, without even much hesitation -- he pressed one hand down her dress and cupped her left breast firmly, giving it a squeeze.

She gave a gasp, both scandalized, angry and....powerless, perhaps. Had he done it to the daughter of another noble, a thrashing and a cuff would have been the result. But this young woman...a servant only. He smiled inwardly.

"What, Jessamine? Is something the matter?" He put particular emphasis on each word, pronouncing them clearly as though making his high birth and aristocratic upbringing clear to her.

"N-...No, M'lord. Nothin's the matter. " Her voice trembled and she bit her lower lip. Her hand holding the cloth shook, slipping off the candlestick.

"Then you should keep cleaning, do you not think? Clean the candlestick. Like a good servant." He felt for her nipple tipping the breast and rubbed it, pinched it slightly. The gasp she gave was a nice reward for the deed.

"Y...Yes, M'lord. Asyousay. O'course." The young brunette said with a stronger tremor to her simple voice.

He stood like that for a while, alternating between squeezing one breast, then the other while she rubbed and polished the silver candlestick with more and more fervour. He wasn't sure if she was trying to ignore him and that's why she looked away, lips compressed into a thin line, or if that was because she liked what he was doing.

He suddenly felt impatient and hungry, forward. Herland grabbed the candlestick, tearing it free from her grip and tossing it to the floor with a metallic 'clang'.

"But M'lord! What.." She began, protesting, wringing her hands. "Oh!"

"Hush!" He told her. With a gruff movement, he pushed her backward and tore the front buttoning of her servant's dress with both hands, freeing her impressive breast which he proceeded to squeeze more insistently.

"M'lord...you can't do this. You're to be betrothed!" She whispered breathily, trying to pull her dress closed.

"So?!" He spat taking her by her shoulders and leading her to his wide bed. "Who's going to stop me? Vivian? I don't see Vivian Blackmoor anywhere. Do you?" He smirked at her, giving the garment she wore another tug that tore it open further with a sound of tearing cloth.

"It's not...oh! Right, M'lord. Can't go around" She whimpered when he squeezed both her breasts and pressed against her where they stood, close to the bed. "doin this..not..right" She protested, her voice growing to a whisper.

"I do what I want when I want!" He countered, pulling the dress and shift from her shoulders together and down to her belly. Her breasts were indeed very large and -- since he preferred them that way -- beautiful. He looked up at her. "You have lovely breasts."

She blushed. "Thank you, m'lord." Her voice firmed a little. "But you still shouddn't! Shouddn't be feeling strangers tits up like this, no-uh!"

He almost laughed. Her tongue was so crude, yet charming compared to his. He ran one hand from her belly to her neck, feeling the warmth of her skin. He noticed her breathing increased too.

"But it's cold" He protested. "I want some warmth. Aren't you cold, my dear Jessamine? Wouldn't it be nice to be...warm?" He pressed closer, firmly exercising his right as his employer -- so to speak -- in fondling her firmly.

"Nut..sayin.." She breathed heavily, her chest moving with her deep breaths. "it wouldn't be..but not...aaah...right, M'lord."

Still, she didn't pull away again and she looked up at him. Her eyes betrayed very little wit or intelligence. He knew she was a simple farm girl, with emphasis on simple. It was why he had pushed his grandfather to hire her. Still, he had forgotten her 'til now.

"Oh, hush. I employ you, don't I? This is part of your job, you know. Making sure your master is happy. Well? Make me happy, Jess!"

He pushed her down to her knees, thudding her down on the thick carpet and sat down on the edge of the bed after opening his breeches and pulling out his thick, already-hard cock.

"Oh, M'lord! Thas such a wicked way to look a'it, it is!" She blushed. Still, she didn't look away or pull off.

Much easier then the last serving girl, he recollected. Grabbing her thick, brown hair he pulled her closer, brushing the tip of his cock against her soft lips. She gasped, but again, didn't pull away.

"It's your job, Jess." He repeated. "Do what you're paid to do before I tell my grandfather to fire you! You understand? Do it, or you'll be fired!"

From the way her eyes suddenly widened and she lunged to stuff his cock down her mouth, he could tell that she had indeed taken that sporadic and somewhat vague threat very seriously indeed. With a wet sound, she pulled his cock almost all the way down her mouth and throat, noisily sucking on his thick shaft in a way that told him she not only believed him, but had extensive experience in this.

"Mm....." He moaned, stroking her hair instead of pulling at it. She did an excellent job without encouragement, slamming herself forward to suck rhythmically. "Oh, by the light, Jess. If I had known you were this good...." he didn't finish, moaning again.

"Gffhmmmslrrp!" She managed between tightly sealed lips, suckling on his cock firmly.

Farm girls were the absolute best. When he had suggested sex -- not oral, sex only, mind! - to Vivianne, she had sniffed ostentatiously and told him that he could wait with 'coupling' until they were properly wed under the light. Some servants were equally prim, but this was what he preferred.

He felt that he wouldn't last long in her mouth. She was incredibly slick, practised and took him without trouble all the way. Not only that, she seemed to be liking what she was doing too, her irises sparkling with delight and amusement as she looked up at him with tears of the effort trickling at the corners of her eyes. There was a rhythmic 'slrrrp-slrrrp'' coming from her mouth and throat as she no doubt did her best to please as he had ordered her to do.

"Ngggh..Jess, you're good." He complimented her in tones he wish were less breathy and more collected. "Fuck" He whispered, thrusting her head closer and feeling his balls boil in anticipation of the impending orgasm.

She gurgled in response.

"Fuuuuuuckkkk! Light!" It hit him hard. He grabbed her by the hair and ears, holding her forcibly close with his cock lodged in her soft, slick mouth as he came hard, spurting stream after stream of cum down her suddenly swallowing mouth. He moaned loudly, suddenly glad that no one of his family was still at home.

She pulled back when it was clear he was done and -- untroubled -- cleaned her lips with her tongue before looking up at him.

"Did I please M'lord?" She asked with a smile, clearly happy with what she had accomplished.

Herland nodded. "Oh yes. You did. Where did you learn that?" He asked with genuine curiosity, still stroking her hair.

She shrugged as though it was of no consequence. "Neighbour men and me use' to work togetha' you see. Men work bad when all...randy." A mischievous smile played on her lips. "They like what I do a lot, they do. They did"

He could imagine that indeed. "Well, from now on you'll only do that to me. Who knows, I may take you with me when I get married. We'll need maids." And if Vivianne is as frigid as she seems, he added silently, he would need distractions.

Her smile was uncertain -- perhaps battling the concept of marriage with what he obviously intended to do to her since he liked what she had done so much -- but the side of her that wanted a secure job with decent pay and related certainties won out. She bowed her head.

"Aye, Milord. As ye wish. I'll do what ye want, I will." A sudden spark of defiance, perhaps a hint of avarice entered her eyes. "As long as ye pay me good coin, I will. If no, maybe I go to yer future wife..." She grinned.

He laughed out loud in spite of himself. Despite her obvious simplicity, he suddenly found himself having a certain degree of liking for her. Well, as long as she didn't actually go through with it. He eyed her from head to toe, feeling a refreshing wave of desire stir his body.

"Stand up, Jess. Take off your clothes." he was pleased to hear his voice being commanding again.

"Milord?" She asked, standing up.

"You think using your mouth would be the extent of your duties?" He asked, amused. "You can't expect a lot of coin for that, can you?"

The serving girl looked at him for a moment, then a smile spread on her lips and she shrugged. "No, M'lord. Yes, M'lord. Immediately, M'lord." She took her dress wrapped around her stomach and pulled it down the rest of the way.

She wore not a stitch beside the shift and her dress.

Spreading her legs to him, she smiled, a downy brown bush covering her sex. Her skin otherwise was fairly pale -- like most of the men and women from their nation.

"Does it please M'lord?" She whispered, cupping one breast as though for his inspection.

He beckoned her and kissed her deeply once she reached in front of him. She seemed surprised by that for a moment, but quickly kissed back, her left hand stroking his chest. "It does" He answered her, taking her by the shoulders and pushing her down on the bed upon her back.

"Mmm, Milord. Are you going to fuck me? I've never had a lord's cock in me before. Do you often fuck farmgirls and serving girls?" When he moved atop her, her hands quickly came up and moved over his broad shoulders and chest, her fingers trembling faintly.

"Often enough." He replied, running one palm over her chest, belly and down her sex. Heat radiated from her already, tell-tale of what she felt right at that moment. She gasped loudly when he drove two fingers in her, wanting to feel how wet she was.

Very wet.

"Mm, Milord. You're making me wait." She rocked her hips slightly, encouraging him. "Don't make me wait. Your milord grandfather will be home in less then 'alf an hour, he will."

"Shut up, Jess." He told her, sternly looking down. "A good servant speaks when spoken to. Some mistresses and masters will have you flogged for speaking out of turn.

"Yes, milord." She let her gaze drop, submissively laying her hands to either side.

"Better." He observed after a moment of her silence and gave her a smile that made her lighten up considerably.

She stretched her arms, running hands over his chest. "You're so strong and smooth, milord. Feels...good." The servant entrusted to him.

"Oh?" He smiled. Either she knew what to say or she was built for this sort of thing.

Jessamine nodded. "And me, Milord?" Her large eyes, betraying very little higher thought. "Does me body feel good? My tits?" She arched her back, offering the large mounds up for his physical inspection again, seeming to want him to touch.

He gladly cupped them, squeezing them and pulling at the nipples which made her moan and shiver. It made her press her lower body against his and run white teeth over her lower lip. "They're excellent, Jess. Lovely." He pinched the pink, stiff nipples which elicited a ragged gasp from her.

"Oh, Milord! You torture me, you do. Please, fuck me! Fuck your servant. Fuck her good!" Her voice came quick and fainted, a blush spreading on her cheeks.

As a response, he buried himself inside her to the hilt and began slamming her violently enough to move her back and forth on the bed, her tits moving in rhythm with his thrusts. He grabbed the large, pale orbs, squeezing them which seemed to excite her further.

"Mi...lord!" She panted, thrusting herself back up at him as best she could. "So...Ah! Fierce! Oh, you're such a beast, Milord" The servant girl moaned, her sweaty fingers curling around the flesh of his lower arm, gripping his wrists.

Her smell was all simple soap -- the kind of flower-scented soap you could find for a copper or two in the cheapest riverside shops, but that only served to make her more exciting in a way. She was simple and he liked that.

"Mhm...I love your wet pussy. Love your wet cunt." He told her in a whisper. For a moment he though to lean down to kiss her, taste her saliva and tongue but he quickly dismissed the idea. The girl was a servant, and he a lord. Using her cunt was one thing -- sharing a kiss another. He grabbed her shoulders instead and the grip on his wrists increased.

"I love milords big cock!" She exclaimed, thrusting herself back up at him. "I love him fucking me so...ah...hard! Do it, Milord! Give me your cock, fuck your servant til she screams. She loves it, she does." The girl closed her eyes at a particularly hard thrust, whimpering. "Fuck her hard, lord!" came her whisper.

Her words inflamed him and he squeezed her firmly, pressing down on the soft woman. Her lips sought his, he thought. She moved as though to kiss him, or perhaps simply to place her head against his. He turned to deny her his lips, but pressed his cheek firmly against hers. Her wet hole squeezed around his cock, slickening his member copiously with her juices.

"Yees, Milord. Giving your..." She gasped, wrapping her legs around his back. She had powerful thighs. "Servant..girl...what she deserves" She moaned, mumbling incoherently.

"Fuck yes." His grandfather would cuff him, speaking so. It was beneath him, he would say. He dug fingers into her buttocks and pressed closer, deeper inside her to enjoy the feeling of her. "Better...keep this quiet from Vivianne, you hear?" He moaned, his cock throbbing inside her.

He would cum soon, yet he wanted it to last much longer then the few minutes.

"Oh, your lady wife won't know, milord, she won't. I promise...I keep the" She groaned. "secret." Her hands came to run along his spine, pressing him closer. "Just...keep me happy, well-fed and well-paid, milord. Thas all I want, it is."

"Mmmm...he moaned, slamming into her a few more times with a roughness that made her cry out loudly. "I'm going to cum, Jess." He snarled in frustration, his left hand squeezing her right breast roughly.

"Mmm...yes, Milord. Shoot it all inside me, you will." She moaned in response and squeezed her inner muscles around his member.

"mmm....fuck no" he gasped. "Are you insane?" Roughly, he pressed her down into the sheet with force that made her shudder and gaze up at him. "I am not fathering any bastards in you, woman!" He growled, slamming harder and feeling himself approach climax. He prepared to pull out of her, to leave the lovely wetness of her low-born cunt.

"Do it!" She stared up at him intently, her eyes glazed with arousal. "I drink Redthorn tea daily, I do. I won't bear children as long as I do, Milord" Her legs locked harder around his lower back and she pulled him further inside, holding him there. "Give it to me. Do it, Milord. Give Jessamine your cum." she whimpered, trembling.

He cried out, pressing forward deeply into her and cumming deep inside her wet, sopping fuckhole. He felt partially relieved at not having to pull out, marvelling in the sensation of doing it this way for perhaps the first time in his life. He almost kissed her at the sensation and situation. He almost did.

"mmm, yes Milord" She murmured, breathing hard when he was done. "Gave your servant a good hard thrashing, you did."

"One of many to come, girl." He informed her when the dimness of orgasm had left him, his head once again clear. More than clear, that feeling of absolute clarity that always followed an orgasm in him.