Who A King Must Do Ch 29

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! Anduin's cock hammered into Tyrande's asshole repeatedly. The water of moonwell poured over them, an endless stream from a magical source, out of the bowl that the cock-riding statue of Elune held up. Despite the several-metre-height from which it feel, it felt as light as a feather as it parted on their shaking bodies.

There was a secondary stream, a constant trickle, from the perfect presentation of pussy lips, parted around a stone cock modelled after the High King's own massive member. At this moment, the cock slipping in and out of her butt felt even larger than the upscaled representation of it. Regardless, the (exclusively female) artisans had worked the smooth stone into such an accurate presentation, that the High Priestess couldn't help but instinctively lean towards the phallus and staring lapping up the water from it.

It wasn't the first time she had done so. Whenever she was bathing here, she couldn't resist the urge to caress both this gorgeous presentation of her goddess and her master's cock. It had always tasted sweet, like normal moonwell water, but today it tasted orgasmic, the only fluid that overtook Jaina's breastmilk.

Anduin's cock was suddenly gripped intensely by her insides. Holding onto her hips, the High King let out a surprised, lustful grunt when his first slave suddenly started squirting like a fountain. Despite the searing intensity of that orgasm, Tyrande continued to lap up her goddess' lovejuices. For that was, in truth, what the ever-flowing water was, the products of Elune's lust as she experienced pleasure through her High Priestess.

With every bit of it Tyrande drank, she felt her connection to her goddess stronger than ever. In turn, it seemed that Elune received more of the pleasure of Anduin's thrust, causing the stone pussy of the statue to soon torrent with more silver sparkling juices, heightening Tyrande's sensitivity as she drank even more of it, creating a feedback loop of orgasmic proportions.

Anduin noticed some of this happening in the streams of magic around him and the intuition did the rest. The sky darkened, the autumn clouds parted, pulled apart by an invisible force. The stars and the full moon appeared despite it being past sunrise on this relatively cold day.

Redoubling his efforts, having a moon goddess to impress, Anduin slammed so hard into Tyrande that she felt the hammering up to her teeth. Her checks jiggled each time, heavily still by the next thrust, as the High King's grip on her hips intensified to continue fucking her even as her legs became too weak to carry her athletic body by themselves.

Out until only his head was inside her, then all the way back in, with superhuman speed and intensity. The raw force soon made her bubble butt look like she had received a brutal spanking, indeed, the sound of every impact wasn't easily discernible. Still, Tyrande was squirting, her own lovejuices mixing with Elune's in the water of the moonwell, always thought to be so clean, now a symbol of night elven submissiveness, a way to keep their bodies fresh and glistening while they served their masters.

Anduin couldn't hold on much longer. "I am going to cum, Tyrande," he pressed out between clenched teeth, groaning as he barely managed to cling on.

"Yeshhhh, mashhhtahhhh," she slurred in return. "Cum inshideeee, cum inshide my asshole. Fu-aaahhh-ck me, messsshh me up, the goddesssshhh wantsssh it!" For a moment, her voice was overtaken by a different tone, clearer, but just as depraved and slutty, "Fill me up, Anduin!"

The fusion between Tyrande and Elune had reached its peak, the moonlight above shone with the intensity of a midnight sun and Anduin was at the climax. He came inside with an enormous first spurt, resting her groin against her soft, raw fucked ass, but not staying still. He grabbed Tyrande by her turquoise mane, and forcefully pulled her against his broad chest. Turning her head with one hand, he let go of her hair with the other and instead moved to rub her pussy furiously, while kissing her aggressively.

The already cross-eyed and gushing Tyrande turned into an incoherent mess of spasming fuckmeat. The hot cum blasting into her back entrance, it triggered the mark, an automatic orgasm that now layered on top of the already existing ecstasy. Her silver eyes were glowing in accordance to the moon, but still the purple of Anduin's dominating magic took hold of her irises for the duration of her mind-shattering climax, one prolonged with every spurt of cum and every skilled move of Anduin's fingers on her clit.

All the while, their tongues were wrestling, muffling her moans as she could only feel love and passion for the man, the goddess and the moment. One that slowly faded away, as the orgasms subsided. Elune disappeared from her mind, partially out of her own volition, partly because Tyrande could feel that her body would not be able to bear the divine presence much longer. The day returned and the clouds closed completely over the fading moon, when Anduin pulled out of her.

Tyrande's legs gave in completely, Anduin supporting her as she slowly slumped to the ground. The spring of Elune's cunt had been reduced to a trickle only more, on that made its way over the High Priestess' shoulders as she leaned against the base of the statue. "Please, master," she gasped. "There is no need to wait for me. I will be fine under Elune's gaze. Once I..." her body rippled with echoing pleasure, interrupting her words.

Anduin understood regardless. Brushing one of her soaked strands of wild hair behind her long, point ear, he said, "Catch up when you can stand again," and kissed her on the lips before rising from the shallow water.

A new addition decorated the stone rim of the fountain. A series of eight crystal, scattered evenly along the circle, of a purple colour. They were parts of the Exodar, either fished from the waves or simply taken from the ships former flying apparatus. Now that the spaceship had found its final resting place, giving home to the draenei slaves where Stormwind would normally have struggled to accommodate them, the parts of it that had allowed it to move were being dismantled and used as resources to build different things.

Anduin stepped over the rim of the fountain, past an invisible field, and immediately felt the rush of an autumn breeze upon his naked, wet skin. "It works perfectly, chief-engineer," the High King commented, while clothing himself again through a simple gesture of his mind. "Inside the fountain, it was like summer."

This had been the intended thing to be tested, whether or not the crystal could be used to heat up an area. The moonwell had been chosen as the experimental area due to its abundance of magic usable for such a test. Having sex with Tyrande had been a more spontaneous decision.

"Splendid!" the draenei exclaimed with his heavy accent, one of his beard tentacles stroking his chin. "All tests were a success then."

"Indeed..." Anduin nodded, he had been the one to ask if this was possible in the first place. Making Stormwind a city of eternal warmth was bound to boost productivity of his people, in more ways than one. "Can you scale this up to surround the entire city?"

"Theoretically, yes," the engineer reported, looking at a piece of paper he had attached to some sort of crystal tablet. "Taking crystals from the Exodar should allow us to give the necessary materials to create eight pillars of the necessary size around the city. We might have to tear down a few buildings to get all the angles right. More than that, we need an energy source though." He scratched the bone plates that extended upwards from his forehead. "This moonwell could cover about 25% of the needed energy. The Naaru could supply another 25%, well, they could power it on their own if they just stayed there all day, but that would mean they can't have sex the rest of the day."

Anduin shook his head. "Their punishment is to serve, not to be sucked dry of their magic. I won't be like the blood elves, forcing the Light to bend to my will in such a twisted way. Those sluts will serve humanity properly, on their knees."

"Then we're short of 50% of the necessary power," the chief-engineer stated and shrugged, carefree. "I am sure your highness can find a way to fix this. Should we begin construction immediately?"

"Yes," Anduin said, already figuring out where to get the extra power from.

There were three, no, four ways that Anduin could get magical power in a vast quantity. Number one was to get the blue dragonflight on his side. The essential rulers over the arcane on Azeroth, they would be able to supply raw amounts of power in numerous fashions. Number two was to reroute a leyline to go through Stormwind and tap into it.

Both of these were out, however, for numerous reasons. The blue dragonflight was secluded up in Northrend and, a likely source for strain, Jaina had been in a relationship with the current leader, Kalecgos, for a stretch of time. Anduin didn't want to take the journey to the icy roof of the world only to be met with hostility, it was not worth the risk. If he was to test the waters with the blue dragon, he would like a safer environment. At the same token, rerouting a leyline without someone as expert at it like the blue dragonflight was its own set of dangers.

What he needed was an absolutely insane number of skilled mages to do so.

The other two variants of getting power were closely linked. One was to have a city full of arch mages at his disposal. The other was to have a cohort of demons at his disposal, the inherently magical creatures had a lot of power, if tainted, to give.

It was no surprise, therefore, that Anduin sat his sight on an ally that could provide that number of mages.

____________________________________________________________________________

Dalaran, a city of purple tipped towers reaching out from a beige city. A city dominated by the very smell of arcane drifting through the air like the anticipation of fulfilled potential. A city where everything that could be enchanted, was enchanted, to the bucket that went down the well to retrieve water, to the little toy locomotive that drove in circles around the city, if the added numbers of the date was dividable by 17.

A city full of mages.

Anduin strut through the streets, Jaina and Aclysia on his side. The arch mage's presence was clear and turned more than a few heads. Not only because of her sexy appearance but because she also used to be the leader of this city for a stretch of time. During the most unstable stretch of time in her life, to be precise. As such seeing her pregnant, happier and more beautiful than ever came as a bit of a shock to these people, who had only heard distant rumours from Stormwind in a while.

It didn't help that both she and Aclysia were still wearing their collars, complete with the golden tags that hung from the front. The outfit of the demon hunter was ever daring, the bare minimum to hide her breasts and privates from the naked eye, black leather over pale white skin, the green tattoos winding over the surface in ways that only emphasized her pear-shaped curves.

Dalaran had not moved since the Legion campaign. It still hung over the ocean close to the Shattered Isles. In reason, this was to clean up the remaining demonic influence. In practicality, every move by the city to anywhere could (and in case of the Horde likely would) be interpreted as some sort of potential threat or favouritism. Something the current leader of the Council of Six, Khadgar, wanted to avoid at all costs.

Something that Anduin now aimed to change.

With Jaina at his side, he had a good chance to do so. It wasn't like Dalaran had a positive history with the Horde after all. Regardless, he wanted to visit someone before the Council of Six, someone else who could be of use in convincing the council to change their current neutrality.

His steps carried him close to the tallest tower in the city, the place from which the council governed, but then to the left and into a small complex of barracks attached to a mansion. Distant shouts reached Anduin's ear "QUIVER! NOCK! PULL! HOLD! LOSE!" a quick array of thumping noises, wooden arrows penetrating targets made from hay and cloth. Moments thereafter, the shouts repeated themselves. It was a male voice, so Anduin steered away from there. The person he was searching for would have been in charge of any training she attended.

The guards around didn't even bother asking the High King who he was or step in his way when he entered the garden surrounding the mansion. He was expected and mistaking Anduin, even without companions, was impossible. The power his manly body radiated, the long golden hair, bound into a ponytail, and the commanding presence all would have taken a trickster of unfathomably skill to replicate.

"Hand to the quiver," he now heard a female voice just around the corner. She spoke softly, but the underlying hardness from a thousand battles could not be missed. "No, don't look where your hand is going. You can't take your eyes of the target. Properly prepare your quiver and you will never need your eyes to find an arrow."

Anduin went around the corner to see an elven woman. Her body was athletic and her skin of a caramel tan, acquired through the countless hours she trained to maintain her strength. Silver hair streamed down from her head in a display of aristocratic beauty, framing a noble face with blue eyes. Unlike the green glow of blood elves or the silver of night elves, hers simply looked normal. In shape, that was, as they still reflected the world with wisdom and rage, sitting inside a face that was both gorgeous and had turned harsh through the years.

She wore a purple leather outfit, perfect for manoeuvrability, while offering little in the ways of protection. Her midriff was exposed, a glorious sight of toned muscles shifting, so were most of her arms, only two gloves protecting her hands. Tight leather hid both her decently sized breasts, big for a high elf, and her round ass from direct view, but Anduin could still not help but stare as he waited, a tiny glance from her indicating her to wait.

She spoke to a child with red coloured hair, not older than five years, holding a tiny bow. The child was trying his best to keep his head still while reaching behind his back. A second one, looking almost identical to his twin brother, mimicked the motion.

"Good," the elven woman nodded with approval, standing up with her own bow in hands. "Now, Giramar, Galadin, look at me and remember the motions well." She reached up to the quiver herself, pulling one arrow out in a motion whose fluidity would have made water look awkward by comparison. "Nock the arrow, make sure the string sits well," she said, overexaggerating her movements to make them easy to follow, "Pull the bowstring back, try to keep an equal pace," she raised the bow as it bent from the force of draw of the string. "Hold it for just a moment, aim, make sure you stand correctly, make sure you know the environment, make sure you have drawn the string as far as you and the bow can take it and then...," Her hand opened with a sudden movement and the wooden arrow of the cheap learning bow penetrated through the head of the green painted target dummy. "...Lose, you understand?"

""Yes, mother,"" the two of them answered as one and earned themselves a couple of headpats.

"Good, now, I have to greet a guest," the elf women said, gesturing towards Anduin. "Keep practicing, if you need something, tell the servant to get me. Alright?" Another round of a agreement and the two kids begun their attempts at working with the bows as their mother put hers aside, together with the quiver, to come over to the waiting trio. "Jaina!" the elf's voice was enthusiastic when she was finally in close range, her arms opening wide.

"Vereesa," the first queen of Stormwind answered in kind, the two women embracing each other deeply. It was the kind of greeting that only happened between happy siblings, close friends, or people that shared a deep pain. It was the middle option that they had become after the latter had happened. The bomb that had destroyed Theramore, Jaina's city, had also claimed the life of Vereesa's husband, the former leader of Dalaran, Rhonin. "It has been too long."

"Indeed, it has," the high-elf range agreed, the two of them pulling apart, but remaining with their hands on one another's bodies, a gesture of closeness, but nothing more. "You look good, but I am not surprised," Vereesa's dark lips stretched into a smile as she gently touched the arch mage's baby bump, "I know how much more colour my life had upon receiving the gift of life." She turned to look at Anduin, "Your letter did inform me a lot of your happiness and..." she continued on to Aclysia, "...the interesting turns life in Stormwind has taken. I think we best talk about this in some more detail in my room."

"Of course," Anduin agreed and all four of them made their way through the small palace of beige and brown stone, everything decorated with purple, blue and gold, the colours of the Kirin Tor and the Alliance respectively. There was no doubt where Vereesa's loyalties lay. They ended up in a nice, if relatively small room, basically only a bed once meant for two people, a coffee table with four chairs, a carpet and a bookcase filled with military documents and a couple of books about the arcane that Anduin couldn't imagine the ranger had any interest in.

Although there was a chair for her, Aclysia didn't sit down. "I will guard the outside, if you allow, master," she said, not feeling like this conversation was a place for her. Understanding that, Anduin nodded and Vereesa also didn't interject. The door closed behind her and with it a magical circle that was carved into the very walls. No sounds would leave this room.

"Master, right?" the high elf asked, a bit tauntingly. "I see that bit wasn't the slightest bit a lie. She was wearing practically nothing."

"We're all happily married to Anduin," Jaina confirmed as three cups and a pot flew by from the bookcase, arranging themselves accurately and then serving proper hot tea to all of them. "We're also master's loyal sex slave, a few more than his wives."

"I see, I didn't really believe the rumours, the letters were obviously true, but its not really sinking in, I have to admit," Vereesa stated, turning the cup in her hands. "Nothing against you, Anduin, but you never struck me the type..."

"I had a revelation, you could say," Anduin declared, his fingers twitching and a bump in his pants slowly growing. The entire way to this room, he had stared at the high elves' leatherclad ass and how perfectly beautiful it looked. It would be a fitting addition to his harem, round, juicy and spankable. Next to him, Jaina's massive tits, barely contained by her usual outfit, caught the attention of his eyes every time he tried to look anywhere. He just wasn't used to having to wait for an opportunity to grope them anymore, suck on the erect nipples and taste the milk of his slutty queen. "I saw," he spoke to distract himself, "truth between two forces and decided to shape the world for peace."

Vereesa took a sip of her tea, looking over the rim with hawk eyes. The way she audibly gulped it down had something sensual about it. "I think I understand... your methods seem unorthodox, but I trust Jaina and she has told me of your successes. So something about your idea must work... You know she told me about your plan, right?"

"Yes, I even asked her to do it," Anduin nodded. He had no plans to keep anything secret, not even that he wanted to add every single strong female in the world to his harem to assure peace with his will. Clearly, letting everyone do what they wanted had lead to war over and over again. The High King would have to establish dominance and make everyone see that a world of warcraft was not the way to go. That he could only do this through winning a massive war was an irony that wasn't lost on him.