A request featuring Tyrande Whisperwind from WoW having a train run on her by orcs.
***
The commotion outside of Sylvanas Windrunner's tent blared to life as the latest messenger slipped inside, the outside noise immediately dying out when the tent flap closed behind him.
"Warchief." He saluted, his lean green shoulders plastered with sweat and his chest heaving from exertion. Whatever his message was, she could already tell of its increased importance over the usual banal news. "I have a message from Tyrande Whisperwind."
"A message of capitulation I hope," she said, looking back down at the stack of papers on her desk and sifting through them.
"In a manner of speaking."
At that, Sylvanas gave the orcish messenger her full attention. He was young and strong, a future prospect of hers if she ever got the time to enjoy herself. "Well go on then. In what manner?"
"In any manner," he said, handing her a scroll. "Here."
Annoyed, she took it. She read it. She smiled.
"Anything, hm?"
***
Dust clogged her nose, heat baked her skin, and the sun blinded her nocturnally predisposed eyes. All around her orcs watched, stopping in the streets as she moved by, their hulking forms, clothed in simple tattered leathers, betraying curiosity, surprise, and smug amusement.
Orgrimmar was a horrid place for a night elf. Especially the night elf matriarch.
"This way, Your Majesty."
The orc behind her prodded her in the back, causing her to stumble through an open gate leading into an alley. Tyrande resisted the urge to call on Elune and sear a hole through his chest. Instead, she kept walking until her brutish entourage instructed her to stop inside of a plain orcish building constructed of wood and clay.
"This is the place," a different orc said. "Hope you got a good night's sleep, priestess, we'll be back in thirty minutes."
He patted her on the ass, and when she whirled to strike him he'd already stepped away. "Make sure you're naked when we get back."
The two guards left her, their hateful laughs and rough voices fading back down the alleyway they'd come from. She was alone, albeit not for long. She'd done her best to prepare for this ordeal, told herself it was worth it, but anxiety still sought to crush her into the thick fur pelt decorating the floor of her temporarily private room. She had no idea how long each orc had with her, but she presumed it to be no more than fifteen minutes each. Perhaps even less. No doubt it would feel double that amount.
Stripping of everything but her panties and carefully placing her clothes upon the floor, she sat down, folding her legs and closing her eyes, praying, forcing herself to be calm. A single day, that's all it was. Twenty-four hours of being used by ignoble savages in exchange for the safety of Teldrassil. Her dignity for a thousand lives.
When the guards returned thirty minutes later, they found her in that exact same position upon the floor, a flourish of beautiful colors and curves within a room of dull stone and tanned hides. Tall and toned, she was an elf of such superlative beauty she stood out like a sparkling gem amidst a sea of dull rocks. Her power commanded respect, her curves commanded attention. Today, she would receive only one.
"Ready to get fucked?" one of them asked. The other snickered.
Standing up, her beauty drew their lecherous eyes and caused them to fall momentarily silent. "Do whatever it is that you wish, but let's get on with it."
"That eager?"
She offered him no reply, and they left with incomprehensible grumbles upon their lips. She could only surmise that their poor temperament was due to the fact that they had guard duty and as such probably weren't allowed to join in on the vulgar event about to unfold.
Seconds later, her suspicions were confirmed when an orc the size of a mountain lumbered in like an awkward ape. Bull-necked and bursting with muscle, he cut an imposing figure, although it seemed as if he knew not what to do with it. No doubt he'd heard stories of her--her power, her beauty, her reputation--and this knowledge was reflected in his uncertain disposition.
"Uh..." His voice rumbled and shook the room.
She stared up at him from the floor. Her heart pounded like a war drum, but her face lay concealed behind a blank, expressionless mask. If this orc wanted to waste time, so be it. That suited her just fine.
A loud thud made her ears twitch. Her eyes flickered to the leather trousers crumpled on the floor and then slowly widened as she looked up the orc's body. Apparently he didn't care much for her idea of wasting time.
His tool matched his oversized body, a verdant green tree trunk that sprouted from the mass of grassy hair furnishing his groin. Beastly and no doubt virile, it dangled threateningly before her, only a few cubits away. She eyed it warily, a frown twisting her features. This would be her first orc; the idea made her sick. Fighting back her disgust, she looked into his beady black eyes.
He stepped towards her then, his semi-flaccid cock swaying, drawing her gaze back and forth, making her breath catch. When he stopped in front of her, he took his manhood in hand and jerked it, imbuing within it an iron-like hardness in only the span of a few seconds. At full, the beast of a cock throbbed dangerously, radiating heat like a furnace, its veins pumping and bulging all the way up to a round and startlingly large cockhead that glowed pink.
Naturally, she knew what was coming. But even so, disgust rolled over her and turned her stomach. She had to fight it down again when he pressed the tip of his beastly appendage to her lips, smushing soft skin into the hard teeth behind. This was to be her fate: a plaything, a cocksleeve for any orc within the city who cared to take her for a spin.
Vile creatures.