A World of Warcraft Erotica
Disclaimer: World of Warcraft and all related material are copyrights of Blizzard Entertainment. This story is purely fiction and written for entertainment purposes only.
*
Undercity was not her favorite place, but Valitha Voidstar had seen and visited much worse places than this. The Undercity was actually the former sewers and storm shelters of the once Human city of Loderan. Since its fall to the Plague many years ago (and the murder of the king by the hands of his own son, Arthas), Sylvanas Windrunner and the Forsaken had taken up residence in the ruins as their rightful home. Valitha had been staying in the surprisingly comfortable inn of the nearest villa of Brill until her new student arrived. Secretly, Valitha prayed that it would be a living, breathing student. Although the Forsaken were the Blood Elves' strongest allies in the Horde, she could only be around dead people for so long.
Her Dreadsteed trotted loudly leaving sparks of flame and sulfur in its wake. Valitha was a Warlock of some renown and everything the Blood Elf did was with purpose. The Forsaken wandering quietly through the quarters of Undercity nodded at her passing and some seemed not to notice or care. This was common as the Forsaken normally did not trust nor deal with the living on a normal basis. She dismounted and dismissed the horrible steed with a wave of her manicured hand as she neared the stinking labyrinth that served as the Royal Apothecary.
Modrid stood at a table filled with bubbling flasks, burners, and tubes that steamed or bubbled with various concoctions. Strapped to a nearby slab was a struggling (although weakly) Human female. She was emancipated and disheveled and her weary eyes looked about with confusion and horror. Valitha sneered at the Human in disgust. The Blood Elf remembered how the hated Humans had once used the High Elves as fodder in their war against the Scourge. It was through the Human's foolishness and arrogance that the Sunwell and the High Elves fell victim to the onslaught of the Undead Scourge and destroyed their livelihood.
Valitha stood quietly as the Forsaken apothecary muttered to himself and mixed together liquids and milled herbs. Although she was feeling rather impatient and somewhat ignored by the hooded undead, she knew better than to disturb him while he worked. After a few moments, Modrid turned with a wicked chuckle holding a large flask of bright green liquid that seemed to smoke. His eyes gleamed with unholy life under the shadows of his deep cowl and, if he still possessed most of his facial muscles and flesh, Valitha assumed he would probably be smiling.
He shuffled past the waiting Blood Elf and approached the Human on the slab. The Human seemed agitated as he approached and weakly struggled against her bonds. With clawed boney fingers, he quickly removed the gag and was rewarded with a surprisingly strong shriek from the Human woman.
"Oh do shut up," he grated stuffing the flask into her mouth. The Woman sputtered and gagged as the entire contents of the flask drained down her throat. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she convulsed for a while before lying perfectly still. Her eyes glazed over and then suddenly flared to life with a sickly yellow glow. Her body seemed to wither before Valitha's eyes and the now undead woman looked up at Modrid.
"Feel better?" Modrid asked chuckling. The woman looked around and back to Modrid before nodding and smiling a wicked grin. Modrid undid the restraints before helping the Forsaken woman to her feet. "Go seek the Dark Lady and show her what you've become, my Beauty," Modrid said gesturing for an assistant to lead the newly made undead to Sylvanas.
It was only after the assistant and experiment were out of sight that Modrid finally spoke to Valitha. "The Orc arrived shortly before dawn," The Forsaken said turning to her. "Rather large fellow for a Warlock."
"All Orcs are large I have found," Valitha replied, "even the females."
Modrid moved in what seemed to be a shrug and handed her a small bluish purple crystal. It was a void stone. Valitha did not know exactly where they came from, but she knew that Modrid was infamous for getting rare and sought-after materials.
"I understand he is quite young," Modrid said wryly. "But you are also aware that Orcs can be very promising even at a young age."
"With axes and swords perhaps," Valitha frowned, "dark arts require more... finesse."
Modrid chuckled turning once again to his workbench. "Orcs can be surprisingly adept at such intricate arts, my dear," he looked at her over his shoulder. "Thrall was a very intelligent and wise Warchief unlike Garrosh."
Valitha nodded. She knew the Warchief well and she had to agree that Thrall was a much more capable and wise leader than the acting Warchief dolt who only seemed to solve problems with an axe and a bellow of "honor" or "Loktar O'Gar". Thrall showed more honor in his right tusk than that fool Garrosh had in his whole body.
"Enjoy," Modrid said with a mysterious hint of humor to his voice. Valitha was puzzled at that but knew that she would better see what Modrid's strange joke was instead of asking him.
Once she rode the elevator up, she felt immediately better. The sun rose over the ruins of Loderon and she closed her eyes to bask in its light and warmth. Her golden hair shined bright in its rays and her equally golden brown skin reacted to the life giving light. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the fresh air fill her lungs and clear her nostrils of the pungent odors and lingering scents of decay and death that permeated Undercity. After she felt as if she could breathe properly again, she lifted her hands and gestured, summoning her Dreadsteed. Brill was not so far along the road, but better to ride into town with some style than on foot.
Upon her quick arrival, one of the Forsaken nodded in her direction and pointed towards the gated and rather large graveyard. Valitha never understood why the graveyard was so huge considering that most of the corpses that would have normally occupied the grounds were, instead, walking around as the town's inhabitants. The graveyard held new sights for her as she decided to enter through the gates on foot.
The Orc was there and his size was indeed impressive. He was tall, a full head taller than the smaller Blood Elf. His arms and muscles were larger around than her head and his massive barrel chest seemed to strain the seams of his dark robes. His head was shaved save for a single thick braid of hair that started from the crown of his bald plate to just above his backside. Unlike other Orcs she had met, this one seemed more toned than bulky. She smiled and one of her long eyebrows quirked up impressed. When he turned to her, her smile melted into a gape of pleasant shock and admiration. She never thought an Orc would have such a handsome face!
Even with tusks, his lips were a pleasing shape, not thin, but almost full. His jaw was strong and his nose wide but small adorned with a single ring piercing his septum. Deep set eyes the color of burning embers almost glowed from the depths of a strong brow. Those eyes did not narrow in a look of disdain like most Orcs who interacted with Blood Elves. Instead, they seemed to widen and drink her in as she came into his view.
Valitha silently strode with her eyes locked onto his until she stood a breath away. She smirked catching his eyes wander over her scantily clad curves and long legs. Unlike his robes, hers were more open and revealing. It was only after they stared into one another's eyes for a few heartbeats that he smiled and with a gruff voice, "You must be Void Mistress Valitha."
Something in the way he said "Mistress" made her heart race and she fought back the shudder that ran from her sensitive Elven ears down to an even more sensitive Elven quim. "I am," she replied. She cursed herself silently for the uneasiness to her voice. She was a Void Mistress dammit and she better start playing the part.
The Orc bowed his head. Even in a submissive stance, he seemed powerful. "I am Turrek Tornflesh," he said. His head lifted slightly and his gaze met hers before he added "your humble apprentice."
Valitha held her gaze firmly but felt as if she would melt under his hot gaze. She kept her countenance in check but her body reacted and she could feel moisture between her legs. She had to watch this apprentice. Letting her lusts get the best of her could be dangerous and she had spent far too much time and effort proving her worth to not only the Blood Elves, but to the Orcs and the rest of the Horde that this "pretty little Elf" could be just as powerful and deadly (if not more) than any of the Horde's mighty warriors.
She bade him to rise and they retreated back to her private chambers. The room was spacious and out of the way to the rest of Brill. It would serve their purposes. Turrek could not help but steal glances at Valitha. He normally thought the Blood Elves weak and scrawny compared to the stronger, larger Orcs. This Blood Elf was strong despite her size. Her skin reminded him of the golden sands of Durotar and as smooth and soft as the most prized silks from the Eastern Kingdoms. With her golden brown skin and soft flowing hair the color of sunlight in the spring, Valitha was a bright and welcome star in the normally gloomy and decrepit atmosphere of Undercity. He had ducked his gaze from her on several occasions as her lessons progressed. It may have been his own lust surging in his mind, be he could have sworn she was looking at him with equal attraction. Better to keep his mind on his studies and not on her distracting and ample curves.
The Orc was not only handsome (which was something in itself to the Blood Elf) but also very adapt at the Dark Arts. Within a few days, he had grasped several lessons with an almost practiced ease. Along with his own personal use of Fel magic, he had also shown promise in summoning and controlling demons. His Imp was a foul little creature and even more foul mouthed and his Void Walker was a grumbling complainer; however, Turrek had them subdued and well trained using his mind and powers over the normal use of his physical strengths.
One day, Valitha had drawn a strange glowing rune on the floor of their summoning chamber and instructed Turrek to stand aside and observe. His eyes concentrated on her movements trying hard to watch what she was doing more than how her lithe body twisted and bent as she marked the floor.
"Today we will summon a new demon for you to subdue and control," she announced finishing the runes. "A succubus."
Turrek had seen (and even fought) the foul demons known as succubi. They were different from other demons and used lust to entrap and torment mortals no matter if they were male or female. Even thinking about those powers now had Turrek's own lust for his Mistress rising until he fought back his urges. As if sensing his thoughts, Valitha's voice cut through the haze of lustful thoughts.
