Night Elves in Trouble 2.

It was a somber occasion when the leaders of the Alliance met in the throne room of Stormwind Castle to discuss the aftermath of the Kil'Kron occupation of Darnassus. "Gelbin, what have our recovery forces discovered?" Anduin prompted. All present were gathered around a stout wooden table covered with maps of Ashenvale forest. Miniatures were placed at locations on the canvas, indicating the positions of Horde and Alliance military formations.

Gelbin spoke, standing his short gnomish form on a chair to offset his gnomish height deficit. "We now have a better understanding of the anomaly that enveloped Darnassus," he began, giving his goggles a quick adjustment. "Judging from decay readings from my Radio-mometer 3000, the passage of time inside the bubble was roughly ten-thousand times faster than outside, in the rest of Azeroth."

Chromie crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. Though the gnomish dragon-in-disguise wasn't technically part of the Alliance, she had been instrumental in bringing down the Infinite Dragonflight's time bubble, which she had claimed was 'mucking up the timestream'. "Shucks," she said in her high voice. "I could have told you that without your fancy machines!"

Gelbin ignored her, moving on. "What seemed to us to be a one-month event was actually close to one thousand years of occupation by the orcs! During that time, they and their Venture Company engineers did considerable damage to the tree, in addition to the uh… effect on the night elves themselves." He tugged his collar with comic embarrassment. The 'effect' had been one of surpassing lewdness, and awkward to mention aloud.

Anduin nodded and turned to Genn Greymane, whose report focused on the decreased military capacity of the kal'dorei. The preponderance of night elf sentinels, druids and priestesses had been rendered completely ineffective. The Ashenvale forest would doubtless fall to the Horde, he warned, unless drastic measures were taken - measures that would leave the Alliance weak on other fronts. "Sylvanas will not miss this opportunity," he spat, fanning an arm out of the models and markers that were spread across a map of Ashenvale.

"Sylvanas denies any part in Kil'kron occupation," Anduin warned. "She claims it was a rogue sect of warriors, still loyal to Garrosh."

Greymane huffed. "She would say that. The deceitful bitch is probably laughing up her sleeve at this disgrace." He growled, and the hairs on his arms bristled. For a moment, it seemed his rage might drive him into worgen form. "I would like to see her sample a taste of her own medicine."

"I don't wish to take a rash action that would lead us to an unwarranted war," Anduin ventured. "It's true, what happened the night elves is… disgraceful. But-"

"But nothing!" came a blustery voice, and with a flash of light, Jaina Proudmoore appeared, wearing a new outfit that seemed a cross between a magi's robe and the trappings of a Kul Tiran admiral. "We can't let these monsters get away with this!" She pointed a finger at Anduin. "Those filthy scum used our allies as their personal cumdumps for a thousand years! Every night elf female in Darnassus is hopelessly addicted to semen and big, fat cock."

Anduin's face turned red at Jaina's matter-of-fact description of the occupation's sexual effects. It was true - not one night elf female had even a faint memory of any previous skills as a huntress, nor any inkling of any goals being bred and beaten. "T-there may yet be a way to restore night elven culture," he stammered, sounding weak in his own ears. "Has anyone heard from Malfurion?"

"No," said Genn. "Still missing. We presume he is in seclusion, perhaps grieving Tyrande's… loss." HIs eyes fell with guilt at the mention of the priestess' name.

Jaina made a snorting noise. "'Loss!?'" she groused, her exhalation blowing a lock of her silver hair away from her eyes. "She's been turned into a mind-broken slut begging for monster cock! She's crawling around Darnassus right now like a pig, stinking like orc cum!"

"Jaina!" Anduin exclaimed again. But she ignored him.

"If we don't crush the Horde for this violation, we'll be admitting that the Alliance is just fine with what happened," she went on, her face grave. "We cannot just rescue the kal'dorei, we must reclaim them! Infuse them with superior Alliance stock! Then, we march on Orgrimmar with the kal'dorei as our engines of revenge!"

Anduin raised a questioning eyebrow, clearly having no idea what Jaina was getting at. His face was blushed. She always had a way of making him feel like a little kid, even now that he was king. That quality, in addition to her natural beauty, always had quite an effect on him. Before he could speak, Jaina gestured to Gelbin. "Gelbin, show him!"

Gelbin held out a bottle of amber-colored liquid. "This potion was found among the remains of Venture Company agents at the Darnassus site. When ingested over a period of time, it allows a night elf female to bear offspring of other races. Thus, for a thousand years, the kal'dorei women were giving birth to pureblood orcs, trolls, and tauren, fathered by the Kil'kron."

"They were turned into breeders. A source of new warriors," Genn said, gravely.

"But we have liberated them. Surely the remaining kal'dorei males could now, uh… couple with the females, and work to rebuild their race," said Anduin, throwing up his hands. "It would take time, of course, but-"

"Unfortunately, my king," said Gelbin, in his nervous, nasal voice, "the night elf males aren't really 'equipped' to do that any longer."

Anduin blinked. "W-what?"

"They're worthless for breeding," Jaina spat, and Anduin found the forcefulness of her contempt both exciting and strange. "Within the time bubble, only the weakest of the night elf males was allowed to breed for a millenia." She looked as if she might vomit in disgust at the thought. "The average length of a night elf male's penis is now less than one inch. Their balls are the size of tiny berries, and their meager few drops of semen are thin as water."

Anduin's head was spinning. The idea of Jaina being so scornful of insufficient penis measurements excited him. He had a fair-sized device in his own pants, nine inches long and a wrist's thickness around. As a teenager, he'd fantasized about giving Jaina a seeing-to with it at every opportunity. "Still, what you're proposing Jaina… it's too extreme," he ventured, his eyes trying to avoid lingering on her shapely, strapped-up midriff and the milky-skinned breasts secured in her bodice.

Jaina looked around at the assembled leaders. "I must speak to King Anduin alone," she decreed, making meaningful eye contact with each sovereign in turn. There was a murmur of concern, but each gradually each racial leader departed, until it was only Anduin and Jaina remaining in the war room. The silver-haired archmage walked to the edge of the table, swaying her hips in a way that seemed quite suggestive. Her gaze fairly melted him, and Anduin felt his breath catching in his throat as he tried to control the situation.

"I-I know how you feel Jaina," he offered, trying his best to look kingly. Yet his voice wavered and all at once his heavy, ornamental armor seemed too big to fit him, as if he were the young boy that had grown up listening to Jaina give his father counsel. "But preparing an army against the Horde would be compounding our misfortune. If they become aware of the true extent of our losses, they would press their advantage." He cleared his throat. "I'll send a peace envoy to Sylvanas, and-"

"A peace envoy?" Jaina cut Anduin off at once. She took two or three steps toward him, sultry steps, with an exaggerated swing of her hips and lift of her heels, her archmage staff clacking on the ground to punctuate each footfall. The way her eyes were half-lidded suggested a boudoir whisper rather than discussion between comrades. And that admiralty bodice - did she always wear it so low cut, the drawstrings straining showing so much cleavage above the buckles? Had her breasts always been so… big? Her white-streaked hair gave her a severe look, pulled back from her face, making her features all the more expressive. Expressive of a desire to… to…

She stopped in front of him. "You could do that," Jaina whispered, suggestively. "You could send out a sniveling peace envoy to that group of deceitful animals. All but advertising our weakness. Exposing the Alliance as the bunch of whipped, beaten whelps." She dropped her knees in front of Anduin, and all the wind seemed to go out of his guts at the shock of her lew posture. The beautiful archmage of the Kirin Tor, kneeling in front of him like a prostitute, looking up suggestively! "Or," she went on. "You can agree to my plan." She reached up and rubbed against Anduins codpiece, licking across her lips lewdly and focusing her eyes intensely on his crotch. "To rebuild the night elf race as a conquering army, to defile and punish the Horde, to revisit upon them ten times what they have inflicted on us!"

Anduin nearly keeled over from forgetting to breathe. "J-Jaina, what are you-"

But she hushed him. "If you do that," she went on. "I'll let you fuck my mouth."

The sound that Anduin made then can't properly be explained, but it perhaps it can be imagined nonetheless - a comical expulsion of air, utter surprise and bafflement and horniness too, like a kettle on the boil releasing a burst of steam. If he'd been drinking at the time, it would have propelled liquid halfway across the chamber. Jaina looked up at him plaintively, thirstily. Her tongue traced across painted lips that contrasted with her gorgeous, pale skin. Strands of gossamer white hair framed her face like spun silver.

"If you give the order to reconstruct Darnassus as I see fit," Jaina went on, thumbing at the buttons of Anduin's pants, "I'll let you empty your balls down my throat any time you like."

Anduin made a choking noise. "J-Jaina, I-"

But she shushed him. "Mmm, you're so hard down here," she cooed, rubbing his helpless erection. "And pretty big as well." Her eyes were big and clear and impossibly sexy as she bit her bottom lip. "Do you like that idea? I'll let you use me as a toilet. You can jerk off on my face whenever every night." The way her catty, worshipful voice sounded, it was like she would actually cherish such an outcome, and that made the thought even more ball-burstingly exquisite to Anduin. She unsnapped him, and his cock nearly burst from its confines, nine thick inches, already leaking a fat pearl of semen that Jaina extended her tongue to gather and slurp into her mouth.

Her expression became naughty. "No one would have to know," she went on, punctuating her words with wet, lewd sucks of Anduin's prong."You could hold court, talk to Genn and Velen with your cock still wet from my mouth."

"J-Jaina-"

She rose and leaned over the war table, sending miniature flags and models toppling as she threw her skirts to either side and placed her palms on the table. Anduin's eyes nearly fell out of his head. Above thigh-high stockings that wrapped her hips, Jaina was wearing a tiny, navy blue thong. The round, thick cheeks of her ass seemed to pour out on either side of the string. Her pronounced labia hung in it. But most strikingly, it was the width of a shoelace and did almost nothing to cover the raised, textured pinkness of her cock-hungry asshole. For an inch on either side of the fabric strip, Anduin could see every crinkle and pore of her rim.

Jaina looked back over her shoulder at him, her gorgeous silver hair cascading, a knowing smile on her face as she wriggled her big booty. "So, what do you say, my King?" she prompted, licking her lips. "I'll let you fuck my asshole, too. I'll even suck you clean after." Her voice was dark and swirling with obscene promise, the implication of debauched knights with the untouchable Archmage of the Kirin Tor, one of the most sought-after women in Azeroth's history, using every trick in her sexual arsenal to please her partner.

The boy king, Anduin Wrynn, gave the only answer his body would permit.

***

Jaina's plan was more far-reaching and ambitious than Anduin could have ever imagined. The reconstruction of Darnassus was taking place in tandem with what she called the 'reinvigoration' of the kal'dorei, and both efforts were massive undertakings. Every bit of the ancient tree had been wormed-through with goblin machinery, and the boughs and leaves turning a dingy brown in many places. Hunting grounds had been turned into greasy abattoirs, groves into bone pits, thickets into wolf pens. Both sorcery and toil were required to heal the tree, and by Jaina's mandate the soldiers, magi and engineers selected for the task were all expected to perform a second duty - infusing the night elf females with plenty of hot, fresh Alliance seed.

When he finally visited Darnassus in person, it shocked Anduin to see the results of the occupation up close. The once-proud race of statuesque, athletic, cultured kal'dorei women had been made into nothing more than prostitutes and toilets by time-lost millenia of orcish occupation. Every one of their thousands walked or crawled around Darnassus in a state of lewd undress, either totally naked or wearing the most scant breast-coverings and thongs, meant only to accentuate their voluptuous bodies, from which round crescents of breast and assflesh curved in an assortment of cool night elven skin colors. Many had barbell or ring piercings in their nipples and degrading tattoos on their bodies in orcish tribal designs, sometimes accentuating the locations of their wombs, sometimes consisting of hash marks on their bouncing, thick asses. These invariably indicated the number of children they had borne during the occupation, and often numbered in the hundreds.

Each night-elf woman had taken a 'slave name' in the Common tongue, and would only answer to this no matter the protestations of any squeamish Alliance workmen. An entire population of night elves thus called out to each other as Stupid Cunt, Cumdump, Fuck-Toilet, Rape Ditch, Sperm Pig, Fucksow, Pissmop, Shit-Eater, Garbage Can, and Dick Cleaner. The variety of names was small in comparison to the number of women, and as such it was easy to get them confused. The women remembered nothing of kal'dorei culture as it had been, and instead seemed to follow a grotesque, hedonistic code instilled in them by their occupiers. They begged constantly for cocks, cum, and beatings as they languished and crawled, spreading themselves, displaying their pussies and assholes to the Alliance forces. Purely libertine creatures of leisure, they showered in full view of their rescuers, soaping up their massive tits and asses in what few unpolluted springs were available. It was also common sight to see kal'dorei females squatting and pissing like animals, lewd expressions of release on their faces, steaming rising up from the ground as a powerful stream exploded from between their well-formed thighs. Due to a total lack of modesty, they urinated and defecated like feral beasts whenever the compulsion came.

They nourished their tall, feral, gorgeous bodies with steady diets of semen, and nowhere was this feeding ritual more apparent than at the Cumwell, located in the former Temple of the Moon. What once had been the foremost moonwell of Darnassus had been twisted by sorcery into a fountain of pure semen, the statue of the first priestess Haidene holding up a basin from which flowed not the Elune-blessed waters of tranquility but a constant slop of thick, pungent sperm. At any given time during the way, dozens of kal'dorei women would bath in the bubbling, off-white fountain of nut sludge, lathering their bodies, prostrating themselves on all fours and drinking as much they their bellies could hold while their fat slut-udders piled and mounded on the stone rim. Squatting, moaning examples of their number would pull their cheeks lewdly apart to deliver massive creampies of semen from the day's ass-rape, replenishing the fountain's volume while orgasming, tongues lolling and eyes half-lidded with the expulsion of brutal, churning cum-farts from their commodious shitters.

Those few night elf males who remained from the occupation were impotent, both literally and figuratively. In contrast to the night elf females, who had been culled for a full millenia based on their breast and buttock size, only the weakest males had been allowed to breed, those most suited to the organizational and administrative tasks the orcs themselves were indisposed to attempt. The few dozen kal'dorei males remaining were a group of 'diplomats' who would bargain the charms of their females for what scant favors and riches they could acquire. After millenia of being brutally cuckolded and watching their females service the massive cocks of the invaders, they ironically were completely comfortable with seeing them mistreated and repurposed as Jaina saw fit. The small council of night elf 'eunuchs' thus became Jaina's instrument in organizing the systematic breeding of females by Alliance studs, eagerly going about the task of lining up each new pussy for the fat dicks of the most gifted humans, dwarves, gnomes, worgen and draenei. In doing so, they scurried like rats for favors from the influential members of the reconstruction, feathering nests of gold for themselves while watching their women get constantly raped and treated like shit, their one-inch dicks hard in the leather thongs they were forced to wear. Their self-serving, resentful treatment of their own kind made Anduin sick to his stomach. He reminded himself that they had built up a lot of resentment toward their females, having been cucked for a thousand years and made to like it.

The Temple of the Moon was nerve center of the operation, and it was here that Anduin expected to receive a 'progress report' from Jaina and Gelbin. However, the utter depravity occurring at every turn made him feel out of his element. Jaina had insisted that he attend bottomless, lacking pants and letting his large penis and balls hang below his doublet and sash. He needed, she said, to 'show the flag'. Absurd as it was, Anduin couldn't refuse her, and found that his nudity wasn't out of place in the Temple. At every location in the outer ring, kal'dorei maidens were pressed with their palms flat against the wall, backs arched, lewd buttocks bouncing saucily. They were being fucked by engineers, workmen and soldiers of every Alliance race, their moaning voices creating a cacophony as they orgasmed helplessly from the violations. The blank looks of joy on their faces made it clear what they felt about their roles as breeding meat. At least a fifth of them were heavily pregnant, and still begging for a much cock as they could get.

Seeing the debauchery and abuse up close, Anduin couldn't imagine how he'd agreed to Jaina's plan. It was a disgrace of surpassing foulness, to be sure, and brought an ashamed grimace to his face as he surveyed the scene. Some other Alliance leaders had counseled him against it. Prophet Velen had warned him that Jaina still harbored the scars of Theramore and refused to be party to the re-breeding of the night elves. Aya Cloudsinger, who as emissary of the Pandaren, had also refuse to participate entirely, labeling Jaina's plan "a perverse crime against nature". Yet the other Alliance leaders had warmed to the idea and insisted he show his support. When Jaina had made it known in no uncertain terms that the end goal of the operation was to take Orgrimmar and destroy Horde morale for all time by raping Sylvanas endlessly in front of her people, Genn had agreed at once. Moira of the Dark Irons had sent her swarthiest and most brutal engineers and smiths. And Gelbin had invested himself greatly in the success of what he called Mekkatorque's Hyper-Growth Tonic, and insisted on testing the efficacy of newly-created 'hybrids' himself. To this end he walked Darnassus in a specially-constructed spider tank, the The Breedmaster 3000, the appendages of which were tipped with all manner of dildos, vibrators and lubrication cannons, taking part in the debauchery as he saw fit. The vehicle had a specially-designed 'bottom hatch' through which night elf concubines, pureblood and hybrid alike, could gain access to his penis, which as with all gnomes was disproportionately large when compared to his diminutive body.

Jaina was seated beside Anduin, also on a throne-like protrusion of stone. More even than the leather-wearing, dildo-tank-riding Gelbin, she had undergone a transformation, dressing in a scant, lewd outfit that was almost a caricature of her previous garb. A plunging bodice that cupped only the underside of her heavy, pale breasts, leaving her nipples exposed, plus a pair of buckled thigh-high boots and sheer thong underwear in the trademark blue of Kul Tiras. She looked more like a dominatrix than an Archmage, but Anduin could deny that her lust for vengeance had lent her a kind of exhilarating, twisted beauty.

"Spread yourself more," she prompted him. "Let her get in there."

Thus, Anduin clutched his knees to either side and slumped in his stone perch, exposing his balls and asshole while his long, thick cock flopped against his midriff. An undignified pose for a king, but not as undignified as some other persons of note, for crawling pathetically to his immediate front was Tyrande Whisperwind, her green hair pouring over her shoulders as she arched her back and mewled like a beast in heat, extending her tongue and leaning in to take a big sniff of Anduin's sweat-soaked ass-rim. "Nnngh!" she moaned. "Your ass smells so good!" She began to plant wet, sucking kisses on his balls, his cockshaft, and the raised ridge of his perineum. Whatever dignity Tyrande had once had as the leader of the kal'dorei had been snuffed out by a thousand years of constant rape, replaced by a mindless desire for degradation and abuse. Jaina had intentionally arranged for her to service Anduin in full view of the assembled Alliance forces. It was, she said, important for morale. She had also told him not to wash his cock or his undercarriage for days prior. Tyrande, she explained, would take care of that for him.

"Nnngh, that's right - get your tongue up his shithole you stupid bitch!" Jaina sneered, using one hand to press Tyrande's head deeper into the crack of Anduin's ass. Jaina was sitting spread-legged, and the way her thong softly caressed her puffy outer labia was visible to all. Females on either side of her seat licked and kissed Jaina's alabaster thighs. Spurred on, Tyrande moaned and performed as the best night elf ass-slave she could be, hermetically sealing her lips to Anduin's asshole and extended her tongue as far as she could into the wet, hot, steamy depths of his bowels. At regular intervals, slurping and felching noises emanated from beneath the boy king as he surveyed the rest of the room. Tyrande's round, jiggling buttocks bounced and clapped as she cleaned out the boy king's shitter, and her massive fuck-jugs hung like bags of meat from her sinewy, streamlined body.

"I'm s-sorry, Lady Tyrande!" Anduin hissed, still clutching his knees as she worshiped and slurped his shitpipe. It was not in his nature to treat someone like her so shabbily. Things were clearly out of control, and yet every time he'd tried to tug the reins on Jaina's project and reason with her, she had slid her hand down to his codpiece and whispered in his ear, promising him the most exquisite things if he would stay the course. He had grown up around Jaina, and before he was king, he'd been a lovestruck boy with a tremendous crush on her. The idea of possessing her, of having her, was intoxicating, and-

"Sorry? What are you sorry about?" Jaina objected. Anduin gulped. She was looking at him, seeming to suspect what was written on his face, that he was on the verge of objecting to the foul goings-on in the Temple. He shifted uncomfortably as he felt Tyrande's mouth kissing and sucking his balls. Alluring as Jaina was, when she became intense, she could be scary, and he feared her wrath as much as he desired her body. "The people need your leadership, Anduin. Only you can save the kal'dorei." She leaned in close and her hot breath fell on his ear as she whispered:

Look at them. They're worthless pieces of shit. They need be rebuilt from the ground up by your big, fat human dick, Anduin. They need Alliance cum to seed their horde-fucked wombs. And they need to see Tyrande licking the ass of the King of Stormwind so they know who they serve. Their women need to breed for us, and the hybrids need to learn from your strength. Your rape. You must use Lady Tyrande as a fucking toilet! The villainy you execute on her, will instruct them on what to do to the Horde. Just look at them, and you'll see I'm right.

Anduin looked. To his left, the former Shandris Feathermoon (having taken the name 'Stupid Cunt') was surrounded by a delegation of Dark Iron Dwarves. The purple-haired elfmaiden was heavily, heavily pregnant, her belly swelling in a grotesque round arc, the purple skin stretched taut. Her legs were splayed to the side, thick and shapely thighs connecting to buttocks nearly as bulbous in shape as her lewd baby-gut. Her outer labia were pierced with heavy dark iron rings and hung several inches from her sopping quim. By far the most astounding feature was her breasts. One was hanging to either side of her pregnant belly, humiliatingly massive in size, such that they hung just as low as her stomach and were nearly as large - fat, fleshy teardrop shapes that seemed to invite abuse. Her swollen, fat-pored nipples were a dark ochre color and constantly leaking a creamy, milky discharge that it was the dark iron's pleasure to rub all over their heavy, soot-caked dicks. The once-proud general of the night-elf sentinels had been reduced to nothing more than a sow, and she moaned like a slut while jacking two big, ashen cocks with hands that couldn't even encircle their girths.

"Nnngh, I hope you haven't washed your dicks!" Shandris moaned, her blank white eyes seeming to shine with crazed lust. "My growing babies need your nasty cock scum!" He nostrils flared as she inhaled the sour, brimstone scent of the filth-caked Dark Iron brutes, the newest members of the Alliance, send by Moira Bronzebeard to help tear out the Venture Company earthworks that now infested Darnassus. Their bodies were broad, banded with muscle, and coated with the oily residue of their sizzling sweat. Shandris pulled one fat, ashen endowment to her mouth, 14 inches long and thicker than her arm, pursing her lips and kissing beneath the oily glans, extending her tongue under that sizzling prick helmet and gathering a tongue-full of gritty, soot-like smegma that made her swoon as she pulled it into her mouth. "F-fuck, it tastes like shit!" she moaned, her mouth twisting into a joyous smile. "Feed me more!"

At the opposite side, one of the Dark Irons grasped her massive, swollen udder, leaning over and pressing his grimy cock knob into her cream-leaking nipple. With a meaty sliding sound, her breast dilated and accepted over a foot of his meat, allowing the length to stab into the tissues and ducts within. Shandris moaned and gurgled her pulsing, throbbing ducts massaged his member as he thrust into her, causing thick milk to slop out onto the floor. The Dark Iron's heavy, sloshing balls banged against her breast's underside as he speared into the sopping, yielding hole. From behind, another Dark Iron approached with a red-hot branding tool, forged into the shape of an Alliance symbol. Shandris had been marked by the horde during the occupation, but now she would be returned to the fold. The searing metal pressed against Shandris' pregnant belly and sizzled, and she moaned, her tongue hanging out of her mouth, her nostrils flaring at the scent of her own charred flesh.

"This womb is Alliance property now," growled one of the grizzled dark irons. "Let's cool her off, boys!" Thus the branding tool was left to fall and two heavy, half-hard penises were produced in its place, which shortly began to erupt with heavy, foamy, yellow streams of piss onto Shandris' branded belly.

"Yes, piss all over me!" she moaned, babbling brainlessly as the filthy cock she was jerking exploded in her face with fat ropes of yellowish, chunky cum. Flecks of smegma and stray dark iron pubic hairs dotted the corner of her mouth. "Baptize my babies with your smelly piss!" She herself began to piss helplessly on the floor like a shuddering animal, orgasming from the abuse and the mistreatment, and the exquisite feeling of a swarthy, arm-thick cock grinding and spearing and scraping inside her breast, making her tissue bulge out in the shape of a cockhead from the inside.

"You'll give birth to some good cumdumps for us!" a dark iron spat, swinging a hand out and slapping her cum-loaded face. "Won't you?" He struck her again, drawing a moan.

"Yeeeaassshhh!" Shandris babbled, her brain obviously barely functioning. Her tongue flopped like a fish on her lower lip. "I'll give birth to some stupid, cumdump daughters for you to fuck! Dwarf-hybrid daughters with huge tits and thick asses!" She craned her neck down to kiss the top of her breast, the distended skin occasionally fluttering with the thrusting cock still pumping inside. "I'll nurse them on the rotten cum you fuck into my fat slut-udders!" The dwarf doing the deed reached his climax along with her declaration, ramming his pelvis against her meaty breast and loudly spewing what seemed like a pint of discolored semen into the scraped-out, stretched ruin of her milk ducts.

"Lady Proudmoore was right," growled the dwarf who had struck her face. "These females are useless except for training and birthin' our new army! Hell, the way she's makin' me feel, I have half a mind to invade Orgrimmar me'self!"

"I'll birth you some good breeders!" Shandris moaned. "Just promise you'll beat us! Beat me and my daughters until we're fucking retarded! They'll grow up to be such good rape sows, raised on your cum and piss!" She leaned forward and kissed the dwarf's massive fist, and he responded by punching her in the face, splitting her lip and drawing another moan.

"I… I…" Anduin stammered, his eyes wide. "Jaina, this can't be the right!" He wanted to go on and say something inspiring, about how his father never would have approved, and that the desire for vengeance against the Horde should never cause the Alliance to compromise their morals. But immediately her hand was at his crotch, stroking him, milking him. Despite his protests, he was hard as a rock, both from Jaina's sultry dirty talk and Tyrande's oral skills. Jaina leaned against him, her breasts bulging above her bustier, and then her voice was in his ear as her hand encircled him and started to slowly, achingly jerk.

"Don't be such a pussy, Anduin," she moaned in a sultry voice, licking along his earlobe. He'd always seen her as such a pure force of good, it was still difficult to reconcile those words with her voice. "We need to show the Horde we're not just passive fodder for assassinations and atrocities. No longer will we smile and forgive their mana bombs, their fiendish, power-hungry plots, their war crimes. You knowthat Sylvanas had some hand in the occupation." She gestured with hand out to the outer walls, where Gelbin was making a circuit of the main temple hall with his dildo-wielding spider tank, bidding the male hybrids stand against the stone walls and present their tools for measurement, fluffed to hardness by the females both hybrid and pure. The kal'dorei cuck council, their tight leather underwear clinging to their stubby penises and tiny raisin balls, scurried about at his behest, making sure each bull was catalogued.

Jaina's handjob gained speed as she guided Anduin's gaze across the dozens of assembled hybrid kal'dorei males. Their bodies were streamlined and slick, coursing with muscle underneath a range of cool, moonlit skin tones. Their limbs, long and limber, attached to frames seeming to burst with athleticism. The night elf females cooed and licked at their superior bodies, showing worshipful affection toward their physical prowess. It seemed the plan to rebuild the virility of the kal'dorei with infusions from other Alliance races had succeeded beyond Jaina's wildest dreams. Between the legs of each hybrid male hung a penis not less than 12 inches in length, accompanied by a pair of full, virile balls that seemed to weigh heavily in their scrotums.

Though all looked night-elven, the ancestry of each hybrid was nonetheless clear in their physical makeup. The dwarven hybrids sported bushier beards and pubic hair, and seemed to exude a pungent musk from their crotches and underarms that the females found quite intoxicating. The gnomish hybrids had stunted physique so similar to young boy as to be indistinguishable; their large eyes and expressive facial features made them 'cuter', though their disproportionately large penises still hung to their knees. Worgen hybrids sported throbbing, lupine cocks that pulsed with need once unsheathed and a brutal, hole-destroying knot at the base. There were even a few draenei hybrids, despite Velen's stated intent to distance himself from the reconstruction. Their stubby little tails and subtle horns were of less consequence than the long, flanged equine cocks that hung, dripping, from their nethers. As for the night elves with human ancestry, their balls were observed to be the largest and most copious in issue, a testament of the nature of the race of men to conquer. Their fat pissholes seemed to constantly leak a flow of pre-cum, and the females nursed from these cocktips like babies suckling from their mothers.

Anduin watched, feeling numb, as Jaina jerked him amidst the fuckery of the room, as each naked and stone-faced hybrid male was placed against the wall and their cocks measured and balls weighed. As the numbers of each generation went up and up, Jaina actually seemed to get more turned on, and moaned into Anduin's ear as she adjusted her shapely rump on the kal'dorei face that was serving as her seat. "Look at the size of their fucking balls," she mewled, sucking the boy king's earlobe yet again. "Hundreds of them, soon to be thousands. They don't know how to read, or write, or communicate. They exist only to rape Horde cunts and piss down Horde throats. Our vengeance will drown Orgrimmar in cum!"

She leaned forward them, placing her face in his lap and taking his throbbing, jutting prong down the root, expertly sucking it. Her tight, wet throat massaged every inch. Anduin's mind became a white-hot burst of pleasure. Surely this was the pinnacle of any man's sexual dreams, to have two of the most beautiful women in Azeroth, Lady Jaina Proudmoore and Tyrande Whisperwind, sucking his cock and rimming his ass. Jaina gagged wetly on his thick tool, drooling rivulets of throat slime onto his pubes that mixed with the wet goo from Tyrande's exquisite rimjob. When Jaina pulled off of his cock, her face was red with oxygen-starvation, and she huffed and puffed, her breasts rising and falling, as she looked at him was black makeup tears falling from her eyes.

"Now, you know what you have to do," she prompted, her voice hoarse. "Rape Tyrande like a bitch. I want to see you do it, Anduin. Beat her like a stupid whore and put a human baby in her womb. Make her your big-titted, bubble-butt breeding sow, and let them all see you do it. This is your part to play!"

Spurred on by Jaina, Anduin rose from his seat and dragged Tyrande by the hair over to the edge of the Cumwell, tossing her face-first over the stone rim of the steaming, bubbling pool of semen. Her fat tits pressed and piled against the stone lack overloaded sacks of grain, and she instinctively arched her back, responding to his rough treatment, letting her enormous cheeks of her perfectly round bubble-butt clap and jiggle. Between these twin spheres her moist, puffy shithole, roughly triangular and a shade darker than her skin, glistened invitingly. Her pussy was a soaked, dripping mound. Anduin wondered idly how many times Tyrande had been fucked during the Kil'Kron occupation. Ten-thousand? Twenty-thousand? It was no wonder they desired her. Everyone knew Tyrande had the best body in the Alliance. And with cock-blocking Malfurion on sabbatical, it seemed he would get a chance to taste her forbidden fruit.

"How many orc pigs have you shat out of your loose cunt, you stupid whore?" Jaina spat, jerking Anduin's cock off and squatting lewdly by his hip, spread-kneed, her heavy ass-cheeks split by her thong, her pussy clearly visible through the silken garment.

Tyrande moaned, clutching the stone edge, her face just inches from the pool of stinking, clumpy jizz that filled the well. "S-so many!" she replied. "I gave birth every month for centuries! Every invader used my womb as a fucking toilet for their smelly, yellow cum that was as thick as jelly! I let my orc sons suck my tits every day while I sucked their dicks! My grandsons too! They grew so fast, and every one of them fucked me!" She wiggled and clapped her ass at Anduin, desperately, her voice reaching a cock-lusting fever pitch. "P-please, I need to get fucked!"

"We're here to reclaim your womb for the Alliance," Jaina said, giving Anduin the nod. Everywhere in the young king's vision, hard-bodied night elf females were languishing in the cumwell, drinking from it, rubbing the yellow-white goo into their skin, licking it off of each other. He saw one heavily pregnant female being held aloft, knees pinned to her shoulders in a full-nelson, as a powerfully built hybrid male absolutely destroyed her asshole with an arm-thick, 16 inch cock. Soon, the crowning head of a baby split the cum-lubed lips of her pussy, and the infant poured from her fuckbox as she howled in orgasm. It splashed bloodlessly into the cumwell to be gathered by two other females who held it up for examination, cooing with impressed lust at the fact that it was a hybrid male that already had a fat, flaccid penis flopping six inches down between its tiny legs.

All at once, between the scene of utter depravity before him and Tyrande's mindless begging, Anduin was convinced Jaina was right. The night elves really were utterly useless for anything but breeding, and they needed Alliance cocks to direct their wombs. Whatever sympathy he had for her melted away, and he felt his body galvanize into action, bringing down a fist on the back of her head in a brutal donkey-punch that sent her forehead slapping off the stone. BONK!

"Tyrande, you cock-sucking piece of shit!" he hissed, his closing his eyes and thrusting his cock powerfully between her thighs and into her pussy. It was like dipping into hot velvet, an orifice of unspeakable heat and grip, even after a millennia of fucking the most hung orc studs. "If you weren't such a bitch our relations with the Horde wouldn't be so shitty in the first place!"

"Hnnnghgg!" Tyrande moaned, her body quivering as Anduin's throbbing pipe tore into her cunt. His blow to the back of her head was scrambling what little remained of her brains, and all she could do was shudder and cry out that she it was true, she was a dumb bitch, she was a fucked-out piece of trash, and wouldn't the King of Stormwind please bless her elfcunt with his seed? All eyes were on the two racial leaders as Anduin combined remorseless strokes of his steely fuckmeat with repeated blows to the back of her head. The sound of Tyrande's thick booty bouncing and clapping off of Anduin's midriff kept the rhythm of her defilement. Her shining ass-globes shed a haze of sweat and cum into the air with each impact.

"Bring the brand!" Jaina cried out, still squatting like a concubine beside Anduin. "Mark the bitch!" It was Gelbin himself who approached in his spider-tank, one of the many-jointed appendages sporting a Lazer-Welder. Totally nude in the cockpit except for his goggles and a pair of leather chaps, he manipulated the controls and directed the sparking, sizzling point against Tyrande's bulbous ass-cheek, tattooing her with the lion symbol of the Alliance of Lordaeron. As the white-hot welder blazed on her skin, Tyrande orgasmed like a sow, crying out, her sculpted body going rigid while Anduin beat her and fucked her pussy.

"Your sons will be fuckers," Jaina went on, gleefully fingering herself. "Every one of them will bring the battle standard of Alliance rape to the doorstep of the horde. Your daughters will be their service girls, and care for their tools as dutifully as a squire cleans and polished the sword of a conquering knight!"

Anduin was fucking harder now, banging his balls off of Tyrande's cunt with each impact producing syrupy ropes of fuck-froth between his sack and her fat outer labia. In the moment, thanks to Jaina's manipulations, he no longer saw her as a sapient being but as an example of weakness, a blot on the honor of the Alliance that needed to be erased. A cry rose in the throat of the young king, not caring that his cock was pounding into her cervix. "FOR THE ALLIANCE!" Anduin roared, bringing his fist down on the back of Tyrande's head again and hilting his prick inside her, beginning to unload jet after jet of his thick, heavy cum into her womb. Tyrande was being bred and beaten in front of the meager remnants of her race, and loving every second of the abuse. The assembled workmen, guards and fuckers of every race raised their arms and echoed his rallying cry as he remained draped over Tyrande, micro-thrusting into her, letting his cocktip bath in her womb as his copious emission filled it. Twenty or thirty fat, lumpy ropes of semen had blown up her baby sack like an overstuffed waterskin, piling hot spew into her oviducts until her ovaries were floating in jizz.

"Hnnnghghg, humans cum so much!" she gurgled brainlessly, and Anduin turned her, cock still inside, so he could reach down and choke her, wrapping his hands around her throat and squeezing until she gurgled and her tongue flopped out of her mouth. In the moment, he saw her as nothing but a branded breeding bitch to be abused. He was lost in Jaina's madness, wringing her neck while his penis unloaded in her pussy, not stopping until minutes later when his orgasm had finally subsided. Breathing hard, he pulled out and removed his hands from Tyrande's slender neck, looking down with disdain at her seizure-wracked, drooling, climaxing body. He hocked back and spit directly in her face; she was so mind-fucked that she did not even blink and his expectorate slopped into her nostrils and eyeballs, and all over her lips and tongue. As he stepped back, there was a wet churning noise and a massive creampie poured from Tyrande's well-fucked pussy, slopping onto the stone rim of the cumwell and piling around her buttocks. The once-graceful leader of the night elves was nothing more than a raped, choked, beaten, ass-licking cumdump.

Anduin blinked, looking down at his own sweating, nude form with something like horror. "What have I done?" he whispered, his eyes wide with regret. But Jaina was at his side, gripping his elbow.

"What you needed to do, Anduin," she said. "For the Alliance."

She smiled wickedly to herself. It would be not much longer before they could march on Orgrimmar.

***