WoW, a Tit Fight!

It needed to end. The rivalry between the two archenemies was decades-long in the making. Many times they had tried to kill each other - to put an end to each other's encroaching on the other's morals. Every time unsuccessful. Matched in power, strength and ability, the two always came to an impasse, until one fateful day. After numerous war crimes, chaos and destruction, once Horde leader Sylvanas Windrunner and her tyranny needed to be stopped. High priestess Tyrande Whisperwind was the one to do this. With the guidance of the goddess Elune and years' worth of resentment, Tyrande swore to be the victor in their final battle. On the other hand, the former Banshee Queen believed her entwined fate with darkness and hatred would secure her the ultimate win. She would rid herself of the infuriating interfering justice bringer and deliver mayhem at will.

Equal in their desires to be rid of each other once and for all meant taking a different approach to their concluding conflict. In the long history between the two, they would always fail to kill each other in regular hand-to-hand combat. They were such powerful beings that their bodies were near indestructible. As such, they decided to go about it the one way they knew for sure would mean the end for one of them. There would be a duel for their very existence - a fight that lacked weapons or magic in a non-traditional sense. Hidden under the gauze of immortality was a weakness they both shared - the one place they could truly be harmed - the area in which their life essence was stored: their busts. They would fight with their boobs until the weaker one's essence was absorbed by the strongest of the two. It would be the ultimate fight between good and evil with only one winner.

The two long-term rivals met in the neutral Outlands - a place where neither would have an advantage. They came without weapons, but most importantly - alone. They would fight until only one was left. The night elf Tyrande arrived looking as elegant and celestial as ever. Her turquoise hair billowed in the soft breeze, petals from the flowers in it fluttering about her. Her seafoam green gown was light and free of armour. She felt uncomfortable in the open terrain. She'd prefer to fight in forests or familiar groves where nature's spirit was strong. She would use her advanced speed and mobility to stay out of range of her foes whilst taking them down with her trusty bow and arrow. Out here in the open without her weapons, made her feel exposed and vulnerable. There was no cover to hide behind so at least a sudden ambush couldn't be sprung on her. The battlefield remained sparse but only for a moment. Then, her opponent appeared.

The entrance of Sylvanas was made obvious by the shimmering darkness that was the rift in space she walked through. Even after the portal closed behind the Dark Lady, a moody atmosphere lingered - dispelling the otherwise pleasantly clear day. Heavy storm clouds darkened the sky. Sylvanas wore an attire also free of armour. The crimson and golden fabrics she wore in its stead were minimal - leaving the greyish-blue flesh of her stomach, thighs and arms exposed. She was also without weapons but that didn't mean she couldn't just summon some. Not that would pose much of a threat to Tyrande and she knew that. The same action could be performed by her. The only finite way to defeat the other was to engage in the battle they had agreed upon.

The two elves - alike in some ways yet so different in every other sense - met in the centre of the vast nothingness. They stopped a respectable distance of a few feet away to greet one another.

"Windrunner..." Tyrande spoke cooly, a grimace on her plum-coloured lips. "Here to take me out with your puny tits, bitch?"

Sylvanas sneered and took a step closer, replying in an eerie tone, "Tyrande... Your words amuse me, as does your inadequate chest," the woman snickered then circled her prey. "So this is it? Our final battle, " her smile broadened as she got ready to attack, "Come then - unworthy filth - show me Elune's wrath! Maybe it'll make up for lacking bust!"

Tyrande mirrored her challenger's stance; knees slightly bent and fists clenched. "Elune gave me her strength." Then she gritted her teeth and charged as she said, "The wrath is mine alone! And with it, these tits will defeat you!"

Pleasantries over, the fight began. The wrath of Tyrande was immediately evident. Markings on her skin glowed like the light of the moon. Rage bubbled in her white eyes which illuminated with intensity as she crashed her chest into Sylvanas'. The other woman grunted out a series of ughs and ooofs as she absorbed the blows to her breasts - bracing herself by pressing her forearms to them. She was pushed back a few steps, even with her feet planted firmly on the ground. Tyrande didn't allow a second for recovery. She was serious right from the get-go - slamming her chest with intention. Her goal was to break the essence; Sylvanas's soul energy from where it festered in her heart. In the way, though, were her breasts. Therefore the only way to get to it was to use the power of her own essence and subsequently her breasts to rupture the seal. Enough damage to them would allow the essence to leak from the body and be absorbed into her own - thus consuming her enemy's life force and ending her.

"Your essence will be mine!" The two threatened in chorus, only to growl at one another for copying them.

Sylvanas gritted her teeth. As soon as she saw an opening, she attacked back. Her method was different to Tyrande's tit slaps, however. The approach she went for consisted of bracing her hands against Tyrande's - their fingers interlocked as they push against each other's bodies. Grunting noises of strain came from them both as they pushed and squeezed their breasts - equally generous in size - together. This was an effective technique as a hell of a lot of pressure was needed on the bust to get the essence flowing. But doing such was detrimental to them both and would cause the same amount of damage. Knowing this, Tyrande attempted to pull away to dish out a few more chest slaps, hoping to pull ahead in the race for control.

It wasn't long before they both started to notice the effects of the battering so far. As they separated the beginning whisper of essence - pure white in colour - rose like steam from a kettle from the cleavage of Tyrande. She looked breathlessly at her opponent. An equal amount of essence was coming from Sylvanas' bosom but with a distinct difference. The colour of the essence was a deep soul-less black. It was like a sooty fire, dirty and choking.

Sylvanas took advantage of the slight pause while they caught their breaths to taunt her foe, "Nng... Loathsome night warrior... I expected more from one with such prowess... Hah! Your boobs are as pathetic as the rest of you!"

"Hmpf! Don't be too hasty to dismiss me, Banshee whore! I'll show you the superiority of my bust and claim your life force!" Tyrande retorted before swinging her tits.

"Gahh, ugh!" Sylvanas hissed as another hit sent a spurt of essence to rupture from the crevice between her breasts, "Damn fucking wench!"

She needed to keep the distance between them minimal if she wanted to avoid punishment. Doing just this, Sylvanas made the priestess lean back, not expecting the sudden force she was using to make her unsteady on her feet. Tyrande was quick to recover, however, righting herself and pushing back.

As they continued using their large boobs to try to out-compress the other's pair, they were causing more and more essence to leak from their cleavages. As a result, this made the rest of their bodies start to grow transparent with every passing moment. Both Tyrande and Sylvanas were equally corporal at that point in the battle. Neither one was pulling ahead which was to be expected - what with the two being equivalent in power and strength in most aspects. They were in a stalemate.

"Ughh, vile fucking bitch!"

"Ooff, stupid slut!"

The pressure between their breasts built and built to painful levels that had both women sweating. For both of them, it felt like their chests would be crushed under the increasing pressure. In the battle of wills, Sylvanas was the first to break. She retreated a few paces, clutching her aching chest. Black essence continued to spew in wisps from her cleavage.

"Nng... At last..." Tyrande sneered, no doubt under the illusion that victory was within her grasp. But it was not so.

"Not yet, idiot priestess... hmpf..." The night elf's features twisted in confusion. Sylvanas went on, "isn't it obvious...? The night's power wanes..."

At that moment, Tyrande suddenly felt weak. She was forced to acknowledge her dwindling energy as it sapped from her. The glowing of her skin had faded to the faintest twinkle and the essence from her cleavage was leaking at a troubling rate. She too took a few steps back and cradled her chest, as if trying desperately to hold it in. A feeble and fruitless task.

Sylvanas laughed darkly and jeered, "hah! Once again your precious Elune denies you victory, as well as mediocre tits!"

Tyrande's white eyes were losing their light. She closed them and muttered a quiet prayer, "mother moon... do not forsake me..."

With a new sense of desperation, Tyrande closed the distance once again and grabbed up her opponent in a crushing embrace. She wrapped her arms around Sylvanas' waist, pulling and keeping their bodies close and tight. Sylvanas took up a similar position, holding Tyrande's hips and pushing back with equal force. She slipped a leg through her rival's, closing any space between the two. The essence was struggling to flow through the tiny gag that was between each one's cleavage. A series of grunts and growls were emitted from the two as they pushed back and forth. Then they tried a twisting method that put even more strain on their breasts.

"Gahh! Fuck!"

"Nnpf! Dammit!"

"Ooff! Give up already, fucking bitch! Why do you even bother with your lousy boobs?!"

"You wretched scum... ack... must be stopped... You have doomed so many to an unjust fate..." Tyrande wheezed and groaned but forced herself to go on, "This is the least I can do to ease the restless souls of those you have slain! I will claim your worthless soul and allow your demise will be their vengeance!"

Sylvanas didn't respond, not because she couldn't think of a retort, but because she too was growing weaker. The pair could almost see through each other now for the more essence they leaked, the less bound to this earth their souls became. Simultaneously, their knees buckled and they crash to the ground with a series of grunts and groans. Yet neither relented. Their bodies stayed locked together in a furious battle of wills, continuously pushing and squeezing. In an attempt to get the upper position, Sylvanas rolled herself on top of Tyrande. Successfully she was able to pin her down. From there, she could use the whole weight of her body to press down onto Tyrande's without much retaliation. The night elf was growing weaker as the Banshee Queen pressed down with all her might.

She took a leaf out of her rival's book and lifted her chest, only to slam it down hard. Tyrande let out a cry as a geyser of essence sprung from her cleavage. She couldn't allow Sylvanas to do that again, surely it would spell the end for her. To prevent another fatal blow, Tyrande wrapped her arms and legs around her opponent, trapping their bodies together and started squeezing again. They scuffled some more. Tyrande found a way to roll their bodies and ended up on top. It wasn't for long. Sylvanas was able to kick the other woman off her. Then they both got back to their feet - equally exhausted and only just about visible. Their fates were to be decided in the next few moments. Both were aware of this.

"This ends now, Sylvanas! My boobs will be the greatest!" Tyrande growled.

"Indeed it does..."

Was the cool reply that came from the pale lips of the Darkfallen. Her once glowing red eyes were now a void and hollow black. Tyrande gasped and tried to retreat but it was too late. Sylvanas rammed her chest into Tyrande's battered breasts one final time. Gahhhh! An ear-splitting cry rang out from Tyrande as she caught Sylvanas and held fast. Then she squeezed as hard as she possibly could, praying to her goddess to grant her just a bit more strength. More ughs and oofs and ahhs echoed loud around the pair.

Both women closed their eyes as a blinding light shone - the light of the moon. And then it was over. Tyrande fell forward, through the space Sylvanas had been in - her arms now holding nothing but vacant air. She looked around for her opponent but she was nowhere to be seen. Was this a trick? No. Tyrande looked up to see a mini cloud of black essence - Sylvanas! Tyrande looked down at her battered chest where not only was her own essence retreating, but Sylvanas' was also being absorbed - directly into her cleavage. The night elf had thought she was done for. But in the last moments of desperation, her goddess - Elune - had come to her aid. Tyrande let out a tearful prayer of thanks before getting to her wobbly feet. Around her were the ripped remains of Sylvanas' clothes - the last traces of the loser. Strength returning to her now fully reformed body, Tyrande left the battlefield as the victor.

~~~

Thank you for reading!