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Chapter 2 - The Defilement Of Sylvanas Windrunner

In this sequel to Dark Days For Darnassus, the Alliance has rescued the night elves from a thousand years of being enslaved cumdumps. Now, Jaina Proudmoore has a lewd plan to rebuild the night elf race.

Chapter 2 - The Defilement Of Sylvanas Windrunner

Chapter 2 - The Defilement Of Sylvanas Windrunner
As she bounced up and down on Anduin’s cock, Jaina thought about how close to complete victory she was. They were in the command room of the gunship Lion’s Vengeance, a massive air vehicle held aloft with gnomish engineering and twelve stout propellers, fifty percent larger than the Lion’s Oath, which had been destroyed at the Broken Shore, and their coupling was one of many occuring in the room as Jaina’s aides consorted with an assortment of night elf hybrid women and captured Horde females.

She was clinging to Anduin tightly as she rode him in reverse cowgirl position, her pale, heavy buttocks visible to all who cared to look as they bounced and clapped and slapped together every time she dipped her hips onto his cum-leaking prong. She had taken to wearing a bizarre, sexualized hybrid of her robes, retaining the admiral’s bodice in reference to her Kul Tiran heritage but replacing the rest with a blue bodysuit and thong that clung to every detail of her sex, letting her thick ass hang out in twin-globed majesty, the thong string swallowed up by the size of those cheeks, which seemed to have grown larger and more sexualied in the proceeding months. “F-fuck, it makes me so wet to think about those Horde scum getting destroyed by big, long Alliance cocks!” she moaned into Anduin’s ear, licking his earlobe and continuing to milk his aching prick with her sopping wet cunt box. The thin string of her thong had been pulled aside to allow his penetration and was no impediment. Each time her bouncing, slapping buttocks jiggled outward, her pink, round, inviting asshole was front and center.

“Y-yes, Jaina!” Anduin stammered, biting his lower lip and trying not to bust an enormous nut straight into Jaina’s womb. With her perfumed, two-toned hair awash around his face and shoulders, it was hard to resist her charms long enough to form a coherent thought, let alone abstain from cumming. It wasn’t just the penetration and the sex, but the conquest that turned Jaina on; and though Anduin could tell that things were out of control, that the Alliance had been thrust into a bloodthirsty war in the name Darnassian vengeance, he felt powerless to stop it. Jaina, with her tight pussy, her massive jiggling ass, and her constant cock-teasing words, had browbeaten him into going along. “I’m going to cum!” he wheezed, and Jaina slammed her ass down on his prong and took him deep, allowing him to hose her cervix down in hot spurts of his thick semen as he took two large handfuls of her assflesh and kneaded it between his fingers.

She pushed away from him, raising one limber leg and sliding off, leaving the boy king panting with exertion as his cock began to flag, surveying the command room with pride. The others present - Moira Bronzebeard, Genn Greymane, and Gelbin Mekkatorque, were engaged in their own debaucheries. Moira, after pledging her Dark Irons to their cause, had taken a keen interest in the hung and sexually aggressive night elf hybrids, proposing to use her healing magic to “refresh” their stamina. Her short and extremely curvy dwarven body was thus testing their limits, sandwiched between two of the rape-hungry beasts, being fucked in both holes by two vein-encrusted, throbbing penises of surpassing size, their fat, cum-sloshing balls seeming huge and stretched to bursting with semen as they sawed in and out of her cunt and ass.

Greymane was using his favored toy, a captured Dark Ranger named Lelana, who he treated especially harshly due to her resemblance to Sylvanas, his most hated enemy. In Worgen form he stood over her, dragging her blank-eyed face up and down his massive, dark-red canine cock while she drooled and gagged mindlessly. She might have been undead, but her body was shapely, wide-hipped and large breasted, and more that adequate to the task of performing as a cock-sleeve. As the invasion had proceeded, like Jaina, the King of Gilneas had become more and more indulgent of his physical needs, and nobody dared ask what his wife Mia might have thought of him fucking Horde prisoners two and three at a time as he “interrogated” them. Gelbin, who had taken to wearing crotchless leathers that left his proportionately massive cock hanging out, provided the tools for these inquisitions, and it had been Jaina’s pleasure to watch as they stretched Horde cunts, asshole and throats with an assortment of gnomish-built dildos and fuck machines.

Yet Gelbin’s most crucial creation was not a dildo or other sexual torture device. It was an Azerite choker that, once clamped on Sylvanas Windrunner, would prevent The Banshee Queen from becoming incorporeal. From there, she could be made an example of for all the Horde to see, destroying their morale. The mission to draw Sylvanas in and subdue her was crucial to the invasion, which was meeting greater and greater resistance the closer the front got to Orgrimmar. Shouting over the muted thrum of the airship propellers and the cacophony of fucking noises, Jaina demanded a status report with Anduin’s semen leaking down the insides of her creamy white thighs. “Why is there no news from Malfurion’s beast?” she cried. “Send another messenger!”

Malfurion’s sudden return had been a matter of concern for Jaina, as she’d assumed he would argue with her plan to turn the reborn Night Elves into weapons of rape. The Shan’do explained his absence by presenting his ‘protege’, a male night elf hybrid named Orath. Jaina had resisted only with difficulty the urge to drop to her knees in front of this specimen of superior night elf flesh. Though only a few months old and the result of accelerated growth, he was fully mature and taller than Malfurion, carrying a predatory, muscled physique with long limbs and broad shoulders that tapered to a trim waist. Silver haired and streamlined, Orath’s most prominent feature was his penis - it was more than three times as long as Anduin’s generous member even when flaccid, and accompanied by a pair of absolutely massive balls that hung nearly to the hybrid’s knee, the scrotum stretching with the heavy weight of virile, bulging cum factories as large as two fists interlocked. When he first been presented to Jaina as the leader of the hybrid “shock troops”, she had barely been able to take her eyes off of the constant flow of thick, chunky, yellowish semen from his pisshole. It came steadily, long, hanging, sloppy drops that broke only after hanging a foot or more from his tip, constantly, as though Orath’s flawless body was struggling to contain the virile conquering force within. She could smell it whenever he was present, mixing in the air with the sweat from his fat balls to form a musk that made her absolutely soaking wet with every whiff.

He was nothing but an animal to Jaina’s eyes, an engine of rape that Malfurion had taught some rudimentary reason and cunning, yet the arrogance on his face sometimes gave her pause. The way he seemed to look to Malfurion for confirmation of every order, even if it was her herself giving it, annoyed her greatly. Even so, she couldn’t deny his usefulness and she loved watching him work. In the command cabin she’d presided over the breaking of Horde spies and soldiers by his enormous, two-foot cock. Females were chained in front of their captured male allies and left gaping and mind-broken. It didn’t matter if it was a thick orc pussy or a wet tauren cow cunt. They babbled and gurgled vital information about troop deployments and defense plans with his massive, impregnating loads sliding out of their wrecked wombs. Jaina invariably fingered herself to hip-rattling orgasms on these occasions. Being obsessed with honor, Horde males were fun to watch as their lifemates and daughters were brutalized by Orath’s fuckmeat, and Jaina enjoyed calling the orc, tauren, and troll males “cucks”, “fags”, and “bitches” as their spirits fell to despair.

Wary as she was of the hybrid night elf, Jaina had to admit that Malfurion’s plan of installing an “alpha” along the hybrid troops was the right call. Before Orath’s arrival the constantly-horny, rape-thirsty males had taken to occasionally killing each other in fights over females. Orath, being the largest, would keep them in line by his very presence. If Malfurion had taught him how to write and reason, therefor making him an arrogant pain in the ass (much, she reflected, like Malfurion himself) that was a small price to pay for the thousand hybrid troops not decimating each other before the invasion could begin. Jaina even took some amused comfort in the fact that Tyrande, the biggest size-queen cock slut in the entire Alliance, was now Orath’s personal fuck bitch, a relationship often consummated right in front of Malfurion. Jaina had asked Master Stormrage, while Tyrande was busy licking Orath’s asshole, what men and materials the alpha hybrid would need to bring about the luring and capture of Sylvanas Windrunner. To her surprise and annoyance, the stud had impertinently responded himself, as though they were equals in the conversation:

Two dozen warriors. And a device from the gnome.

When told that he should address Gelbin as the High Tinker, Orath had simply looked back impassively, not reacting either to Jaina’s scowl or to Tyrande’s tongue swabbing his ass-rim. Malfurion’s schooling had made him sharp, and also defiant. Jaina had considered freezing and shattering the smug hybrid on the spot, not wanting to be shown up in her own war council, but restrained her temper with difficulty. He was, after all, the leader of her rape troops - a rare specimen, physically, and supremely confident in capturing Sylvanas. She did not even know what type of hybrid he was - his predominately night elf form seemed to combine the best qualities of them all. The long, powerful limbs and wolf-like instincts of a worgen, the stamina and broad chest of a dwarf, the disproportionately large penis of a gnome, and the massive, cum-producing balls that Jaina saw as characteristic of her own people, the humans, who with their relatively short lifespans were known to breed like rabbits. Regardless of his origin, Orath’s plan was cunning. Rather than tracking Sylvanas and travelling deep behind the Horde lines to capture the Banshee Queen, they would leave their flank exposed and circulate a rumor that vast stores of Azerite powder were unprotected. It would be an invitation too tempting for Sylvanas to resist.

As for the device, it was an Azerite collar, meant to contain Sylvanas if it could be slipped around her neck. That Orath knew of Azerite’s uses as a magical catalyst had surprised Jaina as well. She would, she decided, have a talk with Malfurion about what he was teaching his ‘pupil’. Despite the fact that Tyrande was slobbering all over Orath’s fat cock on a daily basis, the newcomer seemed to get along with his “shan’do”. Thus, she decided she would investigate their peculiar relationship when time permitted - at the moment, Halford Wyrmbane’s losses among the regulars were considerable, Horde morale was still high, and in order to conquer Orgrimmar, she would accept Orath and his patron as a necessary tool.

As she considered this, a helmeted Alliance soldier rushed into the command cabin then, taking no heed of the debaucheries occuring around him, and saluted absurdly before delivering a message through quickened breaths. “My lady! Master Stormrage reports that the mission is complete. The commander of the irregulars now returns with Sylvanas Windrunner in custody!” Irregulars was, of course, a euphemism for the hybrid rape-troops, who were encouraged to fuck and defile every Horde female they could find, taking their defeated foes as slaves.

Jaina’s mouth turned up into a sadistic smile, and a cheer went up from the room, from the men and all the women who didn’t have their mouths filled with cock. “Finally that fucking bitch is going to get what she deserves!” said Jaina, and then addressed the trembling footman, who was doing all he could not to stare at her shapely breasts in their half-fastened bodice. They were large enough that swells of creamy white flesh could be seen bulging from the buckled belts she used as fasteners. “Soldier, relay to Commander Wyrmbane that the regulars should assemble at the gates of Orgrimmar. We shall break their will in one stroke!” She smiled even wider, showing perfect white teeth. 

Anduin, slumped in his chair with his cock hanging down, looked frightened by what he expression might mean.








The Alliance force assembled at the battlements of Orgrimmar, containing the vast portion of the Alliance main army, plus airships, siege weapons, and the hybrid irregulars, was larger even than the combined force that had assailed the city to depose Garrosh. They were opposed by a stalwart Horde force who, though disadvantaged, had reinforced their walls and settled in for a siege. Yet the force of bombardment from the Alliance side, including archers, gunners, wyvern riders, cannons and dwarven tanks, was such that no Horde troop could set foot outside the city gates without being shelled to dust.

It under this cover that Jania, accompanied by Genn Greymane and Orath, took a shackled and collared Sylvanas to stand on the orange-dusted, cracked earth between the two armies. She had been stripped naked, and with Genn clutching one of her slender arms and Orath the other, was physically overpowered. The discorporeal banshee attacks she would have used to destroy her enemies and slip her bonds were disabled by Gelbin’s glistening Azerite collar. Orath’s plan had worked perfectly - even as she slew twenty of his hybrids, he had managed to find the split second he needed to clap the collar around her neck and subdue her. The rage in her defiant eyes as she was made to march, nude, her voluptuous body on display, was so intense as to defy description. Yet for all of her murderous anger she could do nothing but spit vitriol at her captors.

“I’ll see you all dead!” she hissed, in the darkly cultured voice that had become her trademark. “Your families too! I won’t forget this humiliation!”

“Shut up, you stupid fucking cunt!” Genn growled, still in human form. He thrust a boot out and kicked Sylvanas squarely in the bottom, sending her stumbling forward into the dusty red ground. They were a hundred feet in front of the Alliance line, clearly visible to every Horde soldier watching from the battlements. Hundreds of pairs of orc, troll, and tauren eyes went wide with outrage as they watched Sylvanas, their warchief, get dumped into into the dirt. With her arms shackled behind her, she rose to her knees only with difficulty. But they were also seeing not just her mistreatment but also her body. Sylvanas had long been a matter of lewd gossip among not just Alliance but Horde as well, and for the first time ever, both sides were getting a full and unadulterated view. Her greyish skin was flawless, without the imperfections of wear-and-tear featured by many Forsaken. Her breasts were perfectly shaped and seemed to completely defy gravity, her midsection was taut and smooth, taping to a waist that could rival a wasp’s for thinness before exploding back out to a pair of bulging hips and a tight, round bubble butt. She had a thigh gap that allowed her labia to puff out in twin little ridges, visible against the empty space. Yet even with all these charms in all the right places, her calves, wrists, neck, and arms were all petite and perfectly graceful. There was no doubting her surpassing beauty, a trait shared by all the Windrunner sisters - and in Sylvanas case, her position of power and take-no-shit attitude only made the proposition of fucking her all the more enticing, both for the Alliance soldiers who had lost loved ones to her wartime actions, and the Horde soldiers who were ordered to die on her behalf for some Forsaken bullshit they didn’t care about or understand.

When Jaina spoke, her voice echoed like thunder over the silent battlefield, broadcast to everyone within miles of Orgrimmar, and so loud that even Genn flinched at the magically enhanced volume. “Look upon your Warchief!” she cried out, reaching down to grip Sylvanas’ hair and pull her head up roughly, drawing a hiss. “Watch as the crimes committed at Darnassus will be answered!”

“I’ll kill you all!” Sylvanas growled. “Darnassus was nothing compared to what I’ll do to you!” But Jaina only pulled her hair harder until her face was pointed upward, and spit directly into it. As Sylvanas snorted with outrage as the archmage’s spittle flecked her face, bubbles of it hanging from her long elvish eyebrows, Greymane looked down at her with disdain.

“I’ve been waiting for this for a long time, you murdering whore,” he said, and spat in her face as well, the frothy deposit bisecting her featured in a rough, white vertical smear.

“I’ll send you to the underworld with your son!” Sylvanas wailed, her teeth clenched and her face a mess of spit and murderous fury. But her last word was nearly clipped off when Greymane slapped her brutally in the face, sending her head bouncing to one side, then returned with a backhard. “Y-you fucking-” she tried to object, but he continued to paintbrush her, back and forth, passing her off to Jaina so she could do the same. For more than a minute straight, they interrupted everything Sylvanas tried to say by slapping her face and spitting on her, until she finally slumped, a dazed, spit-covered mess from their repeated blows.

“What do you think now, you fucking Horde faggots?” Jaina bellowed, looking up at the Orgrimmar battlements. “We’re slapping your precious warchief around like she’s a Goldshire Inn hooker! Her face is covered in Alliance spit! What are you doing to do about it?” Anduin, who was watching from the deck of the Lion’s Vengeance, facepalmed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. This was not exactly the method of diplomacy he would have chosen, but Jaina’s pussy was so good he couldn’t resist letting her handle the conflict in her own way. She had assured him that her plan would bring about the subjugation of the Horde - not another renewed war - but so far it seemed she was going out of her way to antagonize them.

“Enough,” Greymane growled, and shifted to worgen form. With one massive, clawed hand he tore away his britches, and with the other, gripped Sylvanas head as if it were a piece of fruit, pulling her against his crotch and mashing her nose against what he’d just revealed. Sylvanas uttered a moan of disgust. Greymane’s unwashed, cum-dripping canine dick hung enormous between his legs, the knotted base wreathed by a crown of sweat-crusted fur and the shaft rock-hard and pinkish red, bowed outward in the middle like a barrel and as long as her arm, though far thicker. Blue veins squiggled and cut across the surface, some fine, some as fat and engorged with blood as her fingers. The tapered tip had a puffy, circular pisshole with a cruel-looking barb above it, as though it had been designed to pry open the cervix of his chosen bitch. Below the white-furred knot, a pair of heavy balls hung with energetic fullness, each one larger than Sylvanas’ fists. It was here that Greymane shoved Sylvanas face. “Get a good sniff, you ball-sucking bitch!” he growled, and in his worgen form his voice was gruff and brutal.

“Nnngh, it fucking stinks!” she moaned, her face still coated in spit and looking rather worn, as though her vitality had been sapped by the repeated slaps and utterly degrading treatment.

All the luminaries of the Horde were present on the battlements, watching helplessly as Genn Greymane served their warchief a monster helping of smelly, unwashed dog dick. After rubbing her face against his balls and knot for what seemed like ages, he pulled her head back and pressed the dripping red tip against her lips, pressing forward while throwing back his wolf’s head as though he were baying at the moon. “I’ve waited for years for you to suck my cock!” he growled, and Sylvanas’ eyes went wide as her mouth was stretched and distorted around the grotesquely large canine member. Her throat choked and glurked and gagged, and it was clear to every onlooker - Saurfang, Nathanos Blightcaller, Baine Bloodhoof, and the whole of the assembled Horde and Alliance armies that Greymane’s tip was drooling huge amounts of worgen wad straight down her throat while stretching her jaw to the breaking point. Even during her most petrifying banshee wails, Sylvanas had never had her mouth open this wide, and the Gilnean king’s bestial girth was so brutal, especially in the middle of his length, that it stretched Sylvanas’ face into a humiliating caricature. 

Using two mighty clawed hands, Genn began to drag Sylvanas face up and down his enormous dog dick, as through her skull were nothing but a rag he was using to wipe himself. Sylvanas’ eyes rolled back in her head as she gurgled helplessly, rivers of throat-slime sliding from her mouth and noise and splattering from her lips with each heave of her cock-stretched gullet. The goo ran enticingly into the valley of her breasts and into the delta of her pussy before pattering to the red Kalimdor soil in lumpy ropes, a mix of cum and her own expectorate. He made glottal noises that were totally unbecoming of an authority figure as she was violated, and Genn’s face was stretched into a predatory grin, showing his fangs, his eyes flashing with vengeful intent. His mind was focused on his son, who Sylvanas had killed, as well as the other hundred things she’d done to destabilize Azeroth. As far as Genn Greymane was concerned, nothing could befall Sylvanas that the bitch didn’t deserve.

“Look at your cunt of a ruler as she chokes on fat, virile Alliance cock!” Jaina called out to the battlements, using one hand to push Sylvanas head further on to Greymane’s throbbing dick. “We know she sanctioned the rape of Darnassus! Now, since you animals won’t depose her, we’ll do it for you!”

“Stupid bitch!” Greymane growled, and pulled a gasping, dazed Sylvanas from his cock, leaving the swollen length coating with spit that connected to her face in glistening, fat ropes. As she gasped for breath, cum and throat-goo slopped indecently out of her mouth. It took only a handful of hair for Greymane to toss her to the ground, face down, ass up, and move his powerful hands to her narrow-but-shapely hips. He fucked her with worgen ferocity, ignoring her cries and objections, burying his oblong, beet red fuckstaff into her sopping folds and drawing feelings out of Sylvanas that she had long thought to be little than distant memories. She was something of a sadist, and understood that pleasure could come with pain in a million different ways, yet this rediscovery of her body’s potential for both was a surprise that left her gasping and moaning despite her unwilling participation.

The girth of Greymane’s dog cock made her hips creak with each cunt-mashing thrust, and while he fucked her he filled her ears with a constant stream of invective, calling her a stupid cunt, a raped piece of shit, occasionally punching her in the back of the head as he ground her body into the dirt. A dazed mess, her sizzling belly continued to send up feelings that were ancient and exciting, the way his tapered dick tip was burrowing into her deepest places was unspeakable, and yet…

“Look!” crowed Jaina. “This fucking undead cumdump is enjoying it!” The Alliance soldiers behind them laughed and jeered, but it was the Horde front line that could see her expression and knew that Jaina was telling the truth. Sylvanas, though outwardly objecting, was thrusting her hips and gasping and rolling her eyes like slut!

Greymane’s thrusts were growing ragged, for he had saved up as much as he could just for this momentous occasion. “I’ll drown the grave beetles that have nested in your dried up womb, you banshee bitch!” he growled, and his knot flared out like an air bladder suddenly inflated, bulging the seal of Sylvanas’ pussy around his base and making her wail with inarticulate desperation. Not for the last time, her tongue fell from her mouth in embarrassing fashion, and her glowing red irises rolled back to the whites. As Greymane grunted and groaned and filled her pussy with worgen cum, she gyrated and shuddered her way to a humiliating rape-gasm, cumming her brains out from being roughly fucked in front of her own allies. There could be no doubt to any onlooker now - Sylvanas Windrunner, feared warchief of the Horde, was little more than a raped fuckhole who got off on being beaten, spit on, and filled with smelly dog cum. A frenzied Greymane even compounded the humiliation by dragging her around by her knotted pussy for minutes on end. When he was finally able to withdraw, Sylvanas collapsed face-first to the ground, and Greymane glowered down at her, returning to human form.

“That was for my son, you evil whore,” he said, as a massive creampie leaked from Sylvanas’ gaping twat. “And there’s more to come.” He gestured to his side, where Orath was revealing his monstrous two feet of thick, brutal cock and letting it hang just inches from Sylvanas’ prone form. For the first time, Sylvanas’ expression took on a look of real fear as the powerful, athletic hybrid hoisted her up with a look of stoic competence, lifting her into full-nelson position, her knees pinned to her shoulders, her bare asshole ready to be dropped onto Orath’s mighty fuckstick - an organ that seemed thick enough to completely ruin her hole for all time.

“N-no! You can’t possibly! It will kill me!” she objected.

“Good,” Greymane said. Jaina gave Orath the nod, and he dropped Sylvanas’ tight, perfect asshole down on twenty-four inches of body-breaking dick. It was the last banshee wail that Sylvanas would ever utter as warchief of the Horde.








The gangbang that followed would become legend, part of the history of Azeroth passed down from generation to generation. As the Horde watched helplessly from beyond the siege line, Sylvanas Windrunner was fucked, beaten, and pissed on by over a thousand Alliance soldiers in the course of ten days. According to Gelbin, who had made a hobby of tabulating such things, she took 2200 loads in her throat, 1900 in her pussy and 2300 in her tight bubble butt, and that wasn’t even counting all of the overzealous participants who busted on her tits and the cheeks of her fine, greyish-purple ass.

Orath’s soul-destroying ass fuck had been the catalyst. An alert, defiant Sylvanas had been reduced to a babbling, mind-raped, brainless fuck dumpster by having her insides scraped out and stretched for hours on the hybrid’s massive cunt-breaker. In her extremity she began to beg for the degrading, brain-melting orgasms his monster was coaxing out of her ripped-apart asshole and dick-stretched bowels, becoming addicted to the hybrid’s virility, size, and fuck-musk in the course of a full afternoon’s constant ass-pounding. Across the battlements of Orgrimmar, her cries of “Fuck, wreck my ass with your fucking monster cock!” could be heard by demoralized Horde troops who realized that not one among them could match Orath’s size. He fucked her the entire first day, taking brief breaks only twice before returning to continue destroying her tight ass with his fat night elf meat.

Once he was finally done, she cradled her sloshing cum-belly and begged for more as the Alliance regulars were sent in to do as they wished on the second day. In this state, Sylvanas eagerly attended to the needs of every enemy, jacking and slurping dicks two and three at a time, bouncing on stiff prongs in pussy and ass both, sometimes moving of her own accord and sometimes being passed around and fucked in a suspended full-nelson or reverse cowgirl. When cisterns of hot cum were brought out by the hybrid milking comfort women and placed in front of her, she licked her lips and eagerly started sucking the lumpy mess down, swallowing gallon after gallon of backed up, smelly semen that Alliance cocks could provide. When her rapists needed relief, she opened her mouth and begged them to fill her throat with their sour, steaming piss. When the fattest, most corpulent dwarf and human warriors squatted in her face, she was all-too-willing to bury her flawlessly-complexioned elven countenance into their hairy assholes, sliding her tongue up their shitters and licking out their bowels while groping lovingly at their cheeks, loving the taste of Alliance ass.

On the third day it was the hybrids who had her, hundreds of them, fucking her with an intensity and ferocity unsurpassed even by Greymane’s hateful abuse. They were, after all, trained and bred for such things, and their cock sizes and cum loads far surpassed those of the rank and file Alliance soldiers. The Horde onlookers recognized this sex-crazed coupling as a reflection of their own berserk frenzy on the battlefield, and as a result the legend of the night elf hybrids began to spread throughout, with licentious and grotesque tales of their sexual conquests in outlying Horde outposts spreading through the ranks and increasingly lowering the morale of the besieged defenders. The orcs, tauren and trolls needed only look at the massive balls slapping against Sylvanas’ tight ass, the enormous cocks stretching her holes, and the copious, chunky loads being shot all over her face, tits, and ass, to know in their hearts that these new Alliance shock troops were easily the equal of even the most gifted Horde studs. Even High Overlord Saurfang, who was known for having the biggest cock in all of Kalimdor, would be rivaled by some of these beasts… and the hybrid leader, the tall and vicious one known as Orath, seemed to have surpassed him in both size and virility. That their “queen” was having constant eye-rolling orgasms from the monster cocks only added to the humiliation.

On the fourth day, Orath stood front and center as male Horde prisoners of each race were presented, their cocks stripped bare and left to hang ingloriously down, with Sylvanas given the task of measuring their members against Orath’s enormous, hanging fuckmeat, forced to read the results. The way she kissed his balls lovingly and licked around his fat cock crown with each measurement, it was obvious who her fuck-addicted mind favored, and thus the voice that had so often urged Horde champions to victory, or sent them on missions of the utmost skullduggery, was now bent to a different and most humiliating task.

“This worthless, limp dick orc cock is just seven inches. Not even one-third the size of this amazing Alliance cock!” She licked her lips and slurped on Orath’s enormous ballsack a bit more before adding. “Alliance cocks are so big!”

She went down the line, emasculating her own people and sucking Orath’s balls, showing each and every Horde male how inferior they were to her captor’s godhood, reading the measuring results. Not one Horde dick, even that belonging to the shamefaced tauren prisoner, was even half Orath’s size. “Now watch as this Alliance stud fucks my ass, you fucking fags!” Sylvanas moaned, and then gasped with delight as she was hoisted up once again into a full-nelson position, suspended in air with heer knees on either side of her head, her pussy exposed for all to see while her asshole was dropped onto Orath’s fat prong. The passage of the mighty cock was easy to follow as it burrowed into her thin, inviting body, stretching her guts into a penile shape as she shuddered and squirted indecently. After this, female Horde prisoners were brought out and fucked in front of their racially matching males. Each one, mind-broken and fuck addled by weeks of hybrid rape, babbled in their native tongue about the virtues of thick human cum, girthy dwarven dicks, cunt-destroying gnomish fuck machines, and cunt-busting worgen knots, espousing them as superior to Horde males in every way.

By the fifth day, Sylvanas was already the most degraded rape whore in the history of Azeroth, making room for new cocks by queefing and farting out the massive loads of cum that were distending her cunt and bowels, begging for the next dick to rip deep into her insides and mark them as Alliance territory. She marveled at the size of her partner’s balls if he had a big pair, kissing them lovingly, acting more like a mind-fucked sex pet than a fearsome warmistress. She quickly learned to love cleaning the dick cheese from unwashed Alliance cocks, rediscovering this consumption as a delicacy long denied her during years of foodless, sexless existence. She had constant orgasms, cumming like a sow even as moaning soldiers pressed their dicktips against her glowing red irises, milking stinging loads of backed-up gunk even onto these distinctive features. Just as many jerked their dicks off up her narrow, regal nose, and occasionally a circle would form with the goal of covering her face completely in cum. Everyone who happened to have a S.E.L.F.I.E. camera made sure to use it, framing their victorious faces against pictures of Sylvanas’ gaping, cum-sloppy pussy, her fucked-out asshole, or her face, completely obscured by Alliance loads.

On the sixth day, Jaina took it upon herself to violate Sylvanas, pulling aside the sheer singlet that made up the bottom of her risque outfit and sitting on the Banshee Queen’s face, laughing and gesturing at the Orgrimmar battlements as she did so. “This is the only thing Horde women are good for!” proclaimed the magi, as she ground her hips on Sylvanas face. “Look at this banshee bitch, slurping out my ass!” Sylvanas seemed to be greatly enjoying her new position as Jaina’s cunt-licker and rimming seat, as she licked and sucked as much ass and pussy as she could while Jaina taunted the Horde onlookers. Jaina grimaced as Sylvanas’ tongue reached a particularly deep place in her wet bowels, her thick white cheeks nearly obscuring the once-proud warchief’s desperate face. “By the Light, she’s such a good ass-eater! This proves that the only thing you horde sluts are for is eating Alliance shit! We’re going to take your most skilled female warriors and install them in Alliance outposts as toilets! What do you think of that?” She wiggled her hips on Sylvanas’ face and her thick ass-globes jiggled, glinting in the Kalimdor sun with impossibly creamy paleness.

The Horde warriors just hung their heads down. Their warchief was nothing but a raped, ass-licking piece of shit, and Jaina was proving it. The archmage rose up a little, putting some space between her pussy and Sylvanas’ mouth, and reached down to spread her labia with thumb and forefinger. “Ooh, I have to piss!” she exclaimed, and then took a bow-legged, arch-backed stance, thrusting out her buttocks toward the battlements and directing a hot stream of steaming, frothy piss straight into Sylvanas’ mouth. She’d gorged herself on conjured water just for the occasion, making sure her bladder was completely stuffed, and Sylvanas, gurgling like a whore, opened her mouth and eagerly accepted every drop. Only when she was completely relieved, and Sylvanas had swallowed a dozen mouthfuls of her acrid, bubbling yellow waste, did Jaina rise to her feet in her dominatrix thigh-thighs and wave her staff, conjuring a massive ice dildo that was well over two feet long and as thick as Sylvanas’ shapely leg. She thus became, after Genn and Orath, the third member of the Alliance War Council to penetrate their sworn enemy on the field of battle, attaching the conjured fucktool to herself at the pelvis and distending Sylvanas’ cum and piss-filled guts even further by spearing it into her pussy without an ounce of mercy. 

On the seventh day, twelve tankards of semen and piss were brought out and lined up in front of her, each labeled with the name of an Alliance race. While being fucked in the ass. Sylvanas hungrily set to the task of swilling each and every one of these mugs, in full view of her own people, gurgling and moaning that the backed-up, yellow nut sludge tasted like shit but she loved it anyway, she loved the stink and the disgusting, cummy chunks that piled up in her throat before sliding down, it was her honor to be an Alliance piss and cum pig. While the Horde commanders hung their heads in shame and defeat, she filled her swollen belly with lumpy human jizz, thick dwarf nut custard, energetic gnomish ball chowder, virile hybrid ball-slop, and washed it down with a huge tankard of watery worgen dogspew, laced with the floating wormy strands of thicker semen from their human forms. Minutes later, she gargled and chugged every drop of hot, foamy piss from the races, as the Alliance soldiers, laughed, celebrated and yelled to the Orgrimmar battlements that the leader of the Horde was nothing but a piss-chugging, cum-swilling rape sow.

On the day eight, the soldiers, bored of using Sylvanas as a cumdump, brought their mounts into play. They started with the horses, since the Stormwind cavalry were closest at hand, and the once-proud Banshee Queen was made to suck the fat, mottled, leathery cocks of every male horse who could be found that wasn’t gelded. Throughout the day she sniffed, licked and worshiped horse balls, and even buried her face into the muscled haunches of the beasts and tongued their sweaty, puffy assholes, making out with those swollen horse donuts lewdly and without reservation, proclaiming mindlessly to the laughing Alliance onlookers that she loved the taste of horse ass. Every horse who was in the mood to do so was encouraged to fuck her pussy and ass; before midday her belly was swollen anew with the churning, lumpy equine loads sloshing in her stomach, womb and bowels. She had orgasm after orgasm - obvious, squirting, moaning, wailing orgasms that made it clear didn’t give a shit about upholding Horde honor but only cared about getting more and more horse cock. In the afternoon, those more exotic mounts that could be found were brought to play; the Horde army looked on with tired, honorless indignity as Sylvanas sucked yak balls and buried her tongue deep into the pisshole of an elekk. 

The day’s rape concluded as she was presented with a massive direhorn with a penis that seemed at least three feet long. The grotesque, bestial appendage protruded through a slit in the animal’s underside, crusted with boils, bumps and knobs, tongue-shaped and tapering to an end that bulged out again like a spiked club. Sylvanas eyes immediately lit up with lust, and she moaned like a mind-broken child as she saw the thick ring of dick cheese around the beast’s tip, the flies buzzing around the rancid, unwashed cock in a minor swarm.

“I wanna fuck the direhorn!” she begged, childlike and addled, a far cry from her previous self. She reached behind herself and spread her cheeks, still shapely bubbles of flesh even after all her trials. “Please let me fuck it!”

“Who do you like better, the Horde of the Alliance?” bellowed the soldier holding the direhorn’s leash.

“The Alliance!” Sylvanas moaned brainlessly.

“Why?”

“Because they let me suck and fuck lots of smelly cocks and swallow lots of cum and piss!” The Alliance soldiers laughed and brought the beast forward. Sylvanas cried out and lost consciousness as the enormous lizard’s cock, thick as a tauren’s thigh, burrowed into her cum-slick asshole and made her body distend in foul, degrading fashion. It raped her for hours, making her belly look as if she were pregnant with a tree stump every time the enormous fuckmeat was buried inside.

On the ninth day, the alliance smiths and technologians went to work on Sylvanas’ body, morphing her petite and tight form into one more befitting of a fucksow with a combination of magic, technology and medicine. Foremost of these alterations were injections from the giant syringes of Gelbin’s Bimb-0-Tron, stuffing her tits and ass full of a bouncy, jiggly silicone compound of the high tinker’s own design. Her breasts were increased to approximately ten times their previous volume, and her buttocks too. These grotesquely sexual spheres wobbled like gelatin as she moved. Her areolas were stretched along with her new breast size, becoming tented, purple-colored disks riddled with bumpy pores. Less technological but no less tawdry, piercing experts from the depths of Blackrock Mountain were brought in to put large-gauge rings in her nipples and labia, as well as her nose and clit. Her belly, which looked hugely pregnant from the huge amount of cum and piss in it at all times, was branded with a degrading womb tattoo that carried the Lion of Stormwind emblem at the center. Her massive, inflated ass was in turn tattooed in a dozen places with the emblems of each race of the Alliance.

The main Alliance force, eager to try out her new bimbofied body, lined up anew to pound every one of her loose holes, skewering her throat, pussy and ass with their huge cocks late into the night, amusing themselves by pulling chains attached to her nose and labia rings. Some even seemed a little disgusted by what a foul, mind-broken fuck toilet Sylvanas had become, taking more S.E.L.F.I.E.S. of her gaping cunt with two or more fists thrust into it, her prolapsed asshole shitting out enormous creampies, and her snot-dripping, spit-drooling, eye-rolling, stray-pube-dusted face as she moaned in a constant series of orgasms while licking the cock, balls, and ass of soldiers and mounts alike. It was clear from her brainless moans and begging for cock and cum that Alliance dick was the only thing she wanted or understood.

Only on the tenth day did Anduin finally take the field, more as Jaina’s puppet than anything else. With Sylvanas completely mind-broken by nearly a fortnight of brutal ganganging, she mindlessly participated in what would be Jaina’s final piece of psychological warfare - the verbal betrayal of her own people as she licked the Alliance king’s asshole, right in front of Orgrimmar. Anduin was, of course, mortified, but things had gone too far for him to break from Jaina’s plan now - and she had promised that, if he went along, she would let him fuck her asshole later that night. So it was Jaina in front, Orath to her left, Genn to her right, and Anduin posed in rather un-kinglike fashion, bending over and showing his bare ass and balls to all of Orgrimmar. Between his legs and just behind him, Sylvanas was kneeling, rubbing his buttocks lovingly, caressing lewdly who had once been her most direct adversary. Her huge, swollen breasts flopped in front of her and her pillowy, thick ass wobbled behind.

Jaina, using her same arcane tricks to project her voice, made sure that anyone for miles around could hear Sylvanas.

“Long live the Alliance!” Sylvanas said, sounding airheaded and out of it, totally mind-fucked by cock. “Horde males are nothing but tiny-dicked faggots compared to the massive, impregnating bullstuds of the Alliance! Horde women are nothing but rape toys for fat Alliance cock! I’m so glad you conquered us!” She reached forward and began milking Anduin’s cock down through his legs, pressed her nose against his muscled buttocks and taking a deep sniff, as if the musky scent of Alliance flesh was enough to send her into fits and murmurs of lust. “You must put all of our men into internment camps and rape our women, please!”

All over Orgrimmar, Horde morale fell to a new low. They were not only besieged, threatened with instant death by cannonfire if they so much as inched beyond their walls, but their Warchief, icon of Horde strength, was licking the ass and sucking the balls of the Alliance king, in front of every warrior in her army. Even worse, she was advocating that all of the Horde become Alliance sex slaves.

“I make an official offer of peace!” Anduin called out, his voice wavering a little as Sylvanas mouth felched his shitter. “People of the Horde, your Queen has abandoned you! Orgrimmar is surrounded! You have but two choices!” He gulped, looked at Jaina for guidance, and she gave him the nod. “Resist, and you will die! We shall raze Orgrimmar and pave the roads of Kalimdor with your bones! Or indicate your surrender by… sending your wives and daughters out, to act as comfort women for our army.” He gulped as Sylvanas started sucking his balls. “Do this, and you shall keep your lands, and become a client state of the Alliance.”

The hybrid troops, led by Orath, his massive 24-inch cock hanging nearly to the ground, fanned out behind Anduin in a wedge shape. Every one of them had a brutal, cum-dripping penis that was more virile and thick than any horde cock, producing sperm even while flaccid. Their bodies, carved from marble it seemed, glistened in the sun and rippled with muscle. For ten minutes or more, there was no answer. Then, as Jaina hoped, small groups of women - orcs, trolls, blood elves, tauren, goblins - began to emerge from the massive iron-ridged entryway. Jaina beamed. Her plan had worked. The spirit of the Horde had been totally broken by the rape of Sylvanas. Now, every Horde race was nothing more than a bunch of cucks and fags, sending their women out to suck Alliance cock. It was enough to make her pussy nearly drench the insides of her thighs. Her enemies had been so tied up in strength, in honor, in size and power and outward shows of dominance, that her own display of utter dominance had completely broken them. She saw in their eyes and hearts the same lethargy and defeat that had crippled their race after the Second War… and it made her happy.

“Nnnnuaaaaghg!” Anduin moaned, unloading a fat spurt of cum down Sylvanas’ sucking throat, leaning over the banshee’s queen’s head awkwardly as he did so. “J-Jaina, is this really right?” he breathed.

First along the women was a green-skinned, wild-haired orcish mother, her body well-proportioned and thick, showing curves in breast and hip and thigh, her blue eyes dark with submission and shame. By the hand she dragged a more spry, graceful orc, the human equivalent of a teenager, and no doubt her own daughter. It was Orath they approached, and the mother fell to her knees, her eyes focused on the night elf hybrid’s enormous fuckmeat as it hung just inches from her face. They had been shedding their leathers as they walked, and arrived naked, their green skins shimmering enticingly and with exotic intent in the blazing sun. A fat rope of chunky cum slid from Orath’s pisshole as he looked down expressionlessly. The orcish matron ushered her daughter - more conventionally beautiful, but still muscled, possessing great breasts, fit buttocks, and cute little fangs protruding from a pert mouth.

“Please,” begged the orc female, presenting her naked child and looking at Orath’s cock. Her voice was awed, as if looking upon a deity. Her voice was haunted with submission. “Please, destroy my daughter’s cunt with your massive cock.” She leaned forward and gave Orath’s throbbing fuckpipe a slave-like kiss to the tip, as if christening it for the voyage it would take into her daughter’s guts. “She has yet to take a mate,” continued the mother, looking utterly defeated, “and she must learn the glory of Alliance rape.” 

The scene was repeated, all down the hybrid lines. Dozens, hundreds of women filed out of Orgrimmar, the Horde’s symbol of ultimate surrender. Jaina, attaching a leash to Sylvanas’ Azerite collar, congratulated a dumbstruck Anduin on a successful campaign. There would be no more threat from the Horde, she explained - they were a broken people, easily controlled.

Anduin watched the orc matron and daughter service Orath’s massive cock for a short time, hypnotized by how the younger orc’s hip bones seemed to nearly snap from taking his girth. Unable to shake the feeling that things had gotten totally out of hand, he pulled up his britches and followed Jaina back to the Alliance lines, leaving the hybrid to their work. 

Neither he, nor Jaina, saw the speculative look on Orath’s face as they turned their backs.


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