Warchief With Benefits

Lady Sylvanas Windrunner, Banshee Queen of the Forsaken and newly appointed warchief of the Horde watched with listless eyes as a congregation of trolls exited her personal quarters behind the throne room. They had come to discuss the late warchief Vol'jin, and the matter of future Darkspear leadership. It was an important matter that she had vowed to take care of—for her sake as well as theirs—yet this flock of representatives had done nothing but bore her. The trolls had exchanged their platitudes and ever so graciously offered her names to consider. Often their own. Politicians seemed to be largely the same regardless of race.

Such a disappointing fact.

Yet, not all of them were so selfish. She had been given a number of more promising names: Vanira, Master Gadrin, High Warlord Volrath, Rokhan, and Bwemba. Sylvanas already knew of them, had even researched them, but this gave her further confidence in them. Whoever it was needed to be someone she could trust. Someone loyal to her. That said it also needed to be someone properly equipped to lead the Darkspear. She would need to meet them in person before deciding. The warlord seemed promising, though not so much for his leadership capabilities. Perhaps she would see him first, it was her duty to find the best possible candidate after all. Sylvanas yawned, mouth opening unnaturally wide and her left eye squeezing shut. She didn't need to breathe, but living instincts could be hard to kick, even in undeath.

The Dark Lady frowned, thoughts having clearly changed to something else. "One of them told me to 'Come get the voodoo' before he left." Her red eyes peered into those of the dark ranger to her right. "Do you think it a threat?"

Dark Ranger Cyndia stood at attention, unsettlingly still in undeath. "I don't think so mistress. It seems to be a friendly greeting of some sort."

"Good... though not very interesting." Sylvanas filed away any remaining documents atop her desk and stood up. "The Horde constantly requires my attention, and as warchief it is my duty to listen. Yet because of this I find myself lacking the time to care for my own personal... needs." Her lips curved into a wry smile. "It is here that I can take out two birds with a single arrow." She turned to face her faithful ranger, one gloved hand upon a deliciously wide hip.

"I have champions to meet."

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"Why are you following me?" Cyndia stared straight ahead as she walked, her dusty boots crunching the orange dirt beneath her. She didn't bother to fancy the orc walking next to her with a glance.

"What's the hurry, don't you want to have some fun again?" Razgar rubbed two fingers along the length of one of her long elven ears as he struggled to keep up with her.

"No," she lied, dark cloak waving in the wind.

"Ah, come on! What else have you got to do? Stare at people outside of Grommash Hold until they get scared?"

"And what's wrong with that?" She finally graced him with a quick glance, her bright red eyes inspecting his muscular green body.

"Nothing I guess. I just think we could do something..." The pushy orc slowly lowered the hand rubbing the dark ranger's ear, slipping it under her cloak and caressing the small of her back before finally grabbing her ass. "More interesting."

A couple of orc adolescences eating some goblin ice cream whistled at the passing pair.

"You greenskins are such charmers." Cyndia rolled her eyes before coming to a stop in front of a moderately sized building of clear orcish architecture.

"A few nights ago you couldn't stop moaning about how much you love "fat greenskin c—"

"I'M SORRY to interrupt our nice little stroll but I've got urgent business to take care of and you..." The undead high elf swatted the orc's fumbling hand away. "Are not allowed within the embassy." She strolled up to the entrance and stopped upon hearing the orc's voice again.

"What about after?" he sounded a bit desperate.

Cyndia pretended to mull it over for a few seconds, though in reality she had already made up her mind. Like her mistress she liked to be the one in control. The one being appeased.

"Meet me outside Grommash Hold in half an hour."

Razgar grinned, his large body radiating enthusiasm. "Great! And hey, three holes ain't enough for me and the guys so bring your sisters, too! That Lyana, Kalira and Alina were something else. Maybe not that Vorel girl, though... those fangs of hers left us covered in holes of our own. Oh and don't forget Lenara, that little minx could suck off a dozen orcs then ask where the rest of the gang is at."

"I'll consider it." Cyndia's lip curved into the very slightest of smiles before she disappeared within the embassy.

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"Enter."

The skin flap to the warchief's personal quarters lifted and through it entered Cyndia alongside a lean nightborne man. Sylvanas nodded to the ranger, prompting her to leave with a curt bow. She seemed to be in a rush, but the Forsaken queen paid it no mind.

The man looked at Sylvanas and swallowed. What he had heard about her seemed true. Beautiful and imposing, she was sitting coiled up like a watch spring in a plush red chair. The room was swallowed in shadow with a couple of small torches providing meager allowances of light. With it he could make out her legs, uncovered waist and protruding chest. Her face was completely cloaked by darkness above those marvelous, dick sucking, purple lips of hers. Yet no amount of darkness could hide those piercing red eyes. It was like staring into the glowing eyes of a predator at night while at camp in the wilderness. He stared into her hood—into those eyes—trying to make out something else, trying to find any signs of life at all. She didn't blink and she didn't move. As if she was, well, truly dead.

In reality Sylvanas Windrunner was simply having a bit of fun of her own. Just some harmless fun before the real entertainment. What was the harm in that? It was no issue at all to quell the fires of her eyes or to position herself outside the shadows, but she was enjoying watching him, inspecting this new champion of hers. His nerves seemed fine at least, or at least his ability to assuage them. His face was rough and weathered with a scar across his left temple. It was clear he hadn't shaved for the occasion, either. Despite this, he was attractive in his own unique way, at least to the Dark Lady.

The first visible sign of life from the warchief came from those generous lips as a slow smile crept it's way across her face.

"I won't bite." Unless you ask. "Come closer, champion. Your warchief would speak face to face."

The man nodded and strode forward, stopping in the middle of the room with his hands locked behind his back.

Sylvanas rose from her seat and swaggered to a stop in front of the other elf, not once breaking eye contact along the way. With her heeled boots she was of equal height and that impish smile still remained upon that beguiling face of hers. It was a striking face, with it's odd blueish-purple skin and beautiful elven features. Stoic in it's own right, perhaps even sinister, and yet arousingly feminine. Her eyes were like magnets and those lips made one's imagination run wild. What a man wouldn't give to see what those could do. She was a beauty of mythical proportions and her face promised much; some great, some satisfying, some that left you dead in a ditch. One look at this 'Dark Lady' screamed danger, but what pleasures could come from disregarding that warning... Sylvanas' lips pursed, drawing his eyes to them for a split second. She was enjoying this, though he wasn't sure why. What he did know was that a woman like this knew exactly what she did to men. A venus fly trap this woman was.

"What is your name?"

The man blinked and hesitated before replying. So out of sorts was he that for a second he forgot his own name.

"Tharis, warchief. You'll have to forgive me, I'm not used to Horde customs."

Sylvanas' lips parted ever so slightly in an amused smile, the small window between them offering a flash of her ghostly white teeth. "It seems we have something in common then, Tharis."

"My Lady, have you not been part of the Horde for quite some time now?"

"Yes, but even so my knowledge is limited. I have had much to learn since becoming warchief and even now I am still learning." Sylvanas began to eye him up and down, inspecting him—judging him.

"They are so different from our own elven societies. So unrefined. So boorish and savage. So... rough." She smiled, though Tharis couldn't see it as she was now circling around him, continuing her inspection. "It's been hard acclimating to this city and I often find myself missing the Undercity. It does have it's benefits though." Sylvanas did enjoy the local penchant for wearing loincloths. She stopped behind him, an appreciative look upon her face as she leered at him.

"Though, having been trapped under that bubble for so long perhaps you don't feel the same way?"

"I understand, warchief. I'm glad to get out from underneath that bubble, but having been there so long... I must admit, it is a bit intimidating." And standing here isn't helping.

"Like a bird leaving it's nest for the first time." Sylvanas' arms wrapped around Tharis from behind, her ungloved hands coming to a rest upon his chest and stomach. "Perhaps I can help."

"Is this one of the local customs then?"

"It is now." Sylvanas pressed herself against his back and whispered directly into his ear as she spoke.

"I am eager to learn, my Lady."

"Then I will teach you." The undead elf emerged from behind her champion, the shadows clinging to her like a smokey layer of clothing. She raised her chin and peered at him with those penetrating red eyes. "Strip for your warchief."

She certainly worked quickly. This was not at all what Tharis had expected when he woke up this morning. Honestly he hadn't been sure what to expect, but stripping in front of his new warchief certainly never crossed his mind.

Yet, strip he did.

It didn't take long for his clothes to hit the floor, allowing the Dark Lady a proper view of his body. She nodded and spun her finger in the air, a silent command to turn around.

Tharis did as commanded, turning around and staring awkwardly at the skinflap of a door leading out towards the throne room. He tensed upon feeling his warchief's hand lightly trace over the scars and mana tattoos on his back. It was easy for Sylvanas to see why the Nightborne got along so well with the Sin'dorei.

"I guess it's my turn, then." She turned and walked slowly towards her desk, stripping along the way. Her cloak was first, followed by her neckpiece and shoulderpads. Sylvanas looked back at him and smiled in amusement. His head was turned slightly but not enough to see her. Next was her chestpiece, then her leggings and everything strapped to them. If her soon-to-be partner had turned around he would see her stripped of everything but a Horde themed thong of which only the waistline was visible. Her bubbly blue ass had eaten the rest of it. That too was removed and deposited upon her sturdy wooden desk.

"Come, I desire to taste my new champion."

Tharis had his reservations about getting more involved with this woman, but what choice did he have? And besides, that body of hers was to die for. He walked over to her, eyes roaming across her shapely elven body. Disregarding the color, Sylvanas' skin looked pristine despite her undeath and the tone of her muscles was evident yet did nothing to diminish her femininity. Her breasts were impeccable and heavy looking. Large enough to just barely be seen from behind her and evenly aligned with only the slightest hint of sag. They were topped by moderately sized nipples of the same color as her lips; an inviting purple. His eyes drifted further down, past her lightly chiseled stomach, below her thin waist and ironically motherly hips. His eyes focused upon her nether region with a hunger that pleased his warchief. Her pussy was bald save for a slight tuft of silvery-blonde hair above it designed to peek out from her most risque of underwear. Below that and between the gap of her muscular thighs one could catch just a small glimpse of the thick cheeks of her ass.

"You're gorgeous—if you don't mind me saying, warchief." He felt it was a bit of an understatement but it was the best he could do in orcish.

"You aren't so bad yourself. Though..." She dropped into position on her knees before reaching for Tharis' dark blue shaft. "This is what I'm most interested in. Let's begin, shall we?"

Sylvanas wrapped one hand tightly around it, feeling it harden under her touch. She had had bigger, much bigger, but that wasn't an issue. It was beautiful, with a fat head and clear blue skin. She estimated it to be about 7 inches, the perfect size for one of her own living kin. Along the top of it was a sparkling tattoo coursing with delicious mana. She started pumping it with her hand, feeling the hot warmth of his cock and the refreshing sensation of his mana within her grasp.

"Well this is new." Sylvanas eyed the mana filled shaft more so with interest than lust.

"It's common practice in Suramar."

"That wasn't in the reports." She leaned in and took the head into her mouth, gently suckling on it. Mana flowed into her as she sucked, not much but enough to make the Dark Lady pur. It was pleasant, and she pushed forward until every inch of cock had disappeared behind those plump purple lips. Sylvanas could feel his mana radiating within her and she absorbed it all with gusto. Her long tongue lashed and slithered around it like a snake, squeezing and tempting him to orgasm.

She remained attached to him for 2 long, delicious minutes, her lips locked snugly around the base of Tharis' shaft. Seeing his beautiful warchief deepthroating his entire length nearly made him cum, but Tharis did his best to hold it despite her shooting him a slutty wink. The edges of her lips twisted into a grin and when she finally pulled away she did so slowly, savoring every inch of cock as it slid across her tongue and out of her mouth.

The Banshee Queen's mouth remained open in a state of desire, her abnormally long tongue cleaning up around her mouth and chin. Though she had taken great pains to not suck every ounce of mana out of him, his tattoo had still dimmed slightly and lacked it's previous luster. She licked a drop of precum forming at the urethra before diving back in again, devouring his cock with an audible groan from her lover. She tilted her head, taking the head of his manhood within her cheek and causing it to extend outwards. Sylvanas simultaneously reached one hand up to cup his balls, massaging his sack and rolling his testicles within her grasp. She pulled back with a salacious pop and quickly thrust herself forward upon it again, breaking into a fast paced rhythm of fucking her face upon the cock before her.

The benefits of undeath, she thought, just as her nose came crashing into the man's groin.

She didn't need to breathe, didn't need to slow down. Sylvanas just kept pistoning herself back and forth, dragging those plump lips along Tharis' shaft from head to root. Her tongue worked wonders beneath his cock, rolling and undulating it along until his shaft was completely glazed with her saliva. She was a sloppy worker and spittle not only covered her chin but had also leaked onto her lover's balls as well. Occasionally she would stop, cock completely engulfed within her mouth but with her tongue poking out from between cock and lips, and lap at Tharis' balls and the underside of his shaft. Sylvanas enjoyed it; enjoyed the feeling of dick in her throat, enjoyed the gurgling and lewd sounds coming from her mouth as she fucked it full of cock, and enjoyed doing what other women couldn't.

She angled herself lower so that she could look up at him better. It was the perfect position for him to force feed his manhood into her, but today the Dark Lady would have none of that. She slowed, languidly rocking her head up and down. Sylvanas savored the mana infused cock like a connoisseur savored wine. She gazed up at him, unblinking and unbreaking as she gobbled up his cock. Her lips gripped tightly at his shaft and precum flowed like a sticky stream onto her tongue and down her throat. Sylvanas purred appreciatively, cheeks hollowing as she began to suck on him like a straw. Precum wasn't the only thing coming out; she had begun to drain him of his mana again and If the Banshee Queen had a tail it would be wagging.

Her ministrative milking was loud and lewd, the sounds of her sucking and slurping filling her personal quarters. She was sucking on his head exclusively now, her tongue twirling around the cockhead like she was trying to polish it.

"Don't resist, let it out," she murmured between licks and kisses upon the man's cock.

Sylvanas lifted the Nightborne's manhood and lowered her head to his balls. They were already wet from her sloppy blowjob, but how could a little more saliva hurt? She lifted his sack with her tongue and guided it into her eager maw, devouring his balls just as she had devoured his cock. Her tongue lolled over them, absorbing his flavor and making him squirm. She pulled back until only one of his delicious balls remained in her mouth, desperately trying to escape the clinging grasp of her lips. It remained like that for a mere moment before escaping with a pop. Sylvanas chased after it, slithering her tongue all the way from the bottom of his balls to the base of his shaft. She could feel them churning, knew they would reward her with rich, mana-infused cum soon.

The Dark Lady's right hand pumped and twisted her lover's wet cock. Below his spear she had her head nuzzled in his balls, repeatedly sucking them into her mouth and popping them out from between her lips. That musky scent was something she loved to enjoy from men, and especially the masculine flavor. She felt the light touch of his hand upon her shoulder and smiled, lifting her head up and slapping the head of his cock against her tongue, mouth open in anticipation. Her hands played with his shaft and balls, doing their best to coax every ounce of cum out and into her awaiting mouth. Sylvanas closed her mouth around his mushroom head, lips squeezing tight around the ridge. She could feel his hot length throbbing. It was coming.

Tharis' grip on her shoulder tightened as he came, shooting his load into her mouth and across her tongue. Sylvanas sat there obediently, savoring the potent pool of sperm within her mouth and swirling it around with her tongue. When she couldn't feel any more cum being pumped into her she pulled away from him, allowing the head of her champion's shaft to escape past her lips. A thin strand of cum dangled between her lips and his cock. She was hesitant to break it but did so anyways as she leaned her head back and gargled before swallowing the load with a single audible gulp. It tasted divine and she enjoyed every drop of it.

Mana-infused cum, who would have thought? To be honest she was surprised she hadn't heard of this practice amongst the Sin'dorei. She darted her tongue out between her lips and looked at Tharis' still hard cock. The tattoo was visibly dimmer now.

"Enjoying Horde customs now, champion?" She was standing up now and gazing into his eyes. She looked odd without her usual hood on. A bit cuter perhaps?

"Very much so, warchief." He hesitated for a moment before speaking up again. "If I may say, you're very good at... this."

"I struggle to be the best at everything I do. Now be a good boy and lie down."

Tharis looked at the bed and then back at his warchief whose eyes darkened like an approaching storm. It's not that he didn't want to, it's that he was amazed at the situation.