Penetration

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The Darnassian Spy

He awoke naked and shackled to the floor of a Silvermoon cell, cursing his own stupidity for allowing himself to be captured. His honour demanded that he fall upon his own sword before allowing himself into the hands of the enemy.

He wasn’t alone in his cell either. A lithe, red lipped and black-haired blood elf stood over him, smirking ever so slightly as he struggled against his manacles. 

“You’re not a very good spy, are you?” she said.

Not willing to give her the satisfaction, he remained silent.

“Hiding out in the open and carrying a document with the symbol of Darnassus on it? It’s a wonder you made it to Eversong at all.” She tutted. “Well as you must have guessed, I’ve been sent here to question you.”

“You’ll get nothing from me.” was his reply. He cursed himself again, for breaking his silence so quickly.

“Oh, I think I will. They all reveal their secrets in the end.”

I’ve trained in resisting torture, he thought. If this shrew thinks I’ll submit so easily, she’s got another thing coming.

But she didn’t reach for any torture implements, nor did she even ask any more questions. Instead she began to remove her armour, piece by piece, revealing a perfect pair of breasts and a behind that would turn the most devout of priests against their vows. He could feel himself harden and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Perhaps he didn’t want to.

“I like to have some fun with my captives first.” she purred. “However long you last is how long you postpone the agony that is to come.”

As she mounted his cock, all hope of resisting left him. He knew he would never last as much as five minutes. All he could do was try to break free of his cuffs before he climaxed… 

You No Take Candle!

After a long day of mining throughout Elwynn Forest with little results, our young heroine spots an abandoned looking mine off in the distance. Not one to pass up an opportunity for potential loot, she quickly makes her way towards it.

Venturing deep inside reveals that the mine is bountiful indeed. She picks every last piece of copper ore that can be found before reaching a large room with a dead end. Laden down with her spoils, she decides to grab one last node and make her way back to Goldshire.

Suddenly, mid-swing, she hears a voice from behind her. 

“You no take candle.” it says.

She turns around to see a small rat-like creature at the entrance to the room, a lit candle adorning its misshapen head.

“Oh. Hello there, I thought this mine was abandoned.” she says, all smiles.

“You no take candle!” the creature says again, more forcefully this time.

“Candle? I don’t need any candles. I’m here for the copper, little guy. There’s plenty of candles at the Lion’s Pride Inn.”

“You no take candle!” it repeats once more. The creature begins to advance towards her, with more of them revealing themselves from behind.

Before she realises what’s happening, they’re on her, removing her armour and tearing at the clothing underneath. Her mining pick drops to the ground and her loot spills out across the cave floor. 

She tries and fails to reach for the pick and her shouts of defiance are muffled as one of the creatures forces itself into her mouth.

Looks like she’s going to have to let this one play out… 

The Audition

Midsummer Special! Playing with Fire!

The warm months had finally made their return, and though the Midsummer festivities had died down for the night, a mischievous laughter still echoed faintly throughout the festival grounds. This caught the attention of a lone Stormwind guard, who became eager to locate the source of the mysterious voice.

Oddly enough, the merriment seemed to emanate from the dying embers of an otherwise empty brazier. Curious as to what the embers had to say, the guard blew gently at them. His breath aroused several great flames that sent sparks flying high into the night sky. The laughter grew in strength, and soon a fully fledged fire dancer took form, naked, above the brazier. Her gratitude was quickly apparent; she jumped down and twirled, winked and laughed as she danced her way towards him. The heat had him drenched in sweat by the time she reached out for his body. His plate armor offered protection from her smoldering touch, and molten prints were left wherever she caressed or kissed him. With his gloves, he could touch her in return – something she seemed to thoroughly enjoy, particularly when his fingers began to explore her nether regions. Surprisingly enough, she was not scaldingly hot on the inside, but pleasantly warm and silky like a benevolent flame.

The guard promptly pulled out his hardened cock. The fire dancer’s blazing eyes widened with glee when he entered her. Both of them knew that the brazier’s flames would soon die out once more, so they fucked passionately, determined to make the best of the time they had left.

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Fuck Friday! Stormshield Delight!

It was afternoon in Stormshield, and Lekira was admiring the view from the inn’s nearby gazebo. She stared longingly towards the horizon and sighed. Of all the places in Draenor, this gazebo was her favorite. At night, she would come here to gaze at the stars, wondering which of them could be Azeroth, and if, maybe, someone back home was missing her. By day, she would let the sun warm her deep-purple skin, let the ocean breeze blow upon her face and listen to the sounds of the sand scavengers scuttling about on the beach down below. And she would be alone. The wonders of nature were mostly druidic affairs – not something a brutish warrior or a devious rogue would be capable of appreciating.

But Lekira would turn out to be wrong. Since her arrival, she had sensed a presence, and she grew more sure of it as she stood there. A quick spell chanted under her breath revealed, of all things, a blood elven man.

Lekira raised an eyebrow. “So tell me, why do you hide in the shadows like that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he suavely retorted. “I am a rogue. It is what I do. That and I was afraid of how you would react to seeing a blood elf lurking around in your city.”

“Fair point,” Lekira sighed. “Most of my allies refuse to see past old grudges. It’d be wise to stay hidden. But then, no one ever comes here besides me, so there might not be much of a point.”

The blood elf looked at her in slight disbelief. “You wouldn’t call the guards?”

Lekira laughed. “Nah, I am not much for war of any kind, and this gazebo happens to be the point in Stormshield that’s furthest away from the bloodshed in Ashran.”

“I am glad you are not like them. I do not fit well with my allies either. They hold the same resentments as yours, and they do not tend to appreciate beauty the same way as you Alliance folk do.”

“Beauty?”

“Yes, of course!” He gestured around them – to the vines growing on the trellis, the clouds in the sky, the waves upon the sea. “This beauty. It takes me back to my home. To Quel’Thalas. You don’t see these things in Orgrimmar, or Tanaan for that matter.”

Lekira could feel her cheeks grow red. This was rather unexpected. A perceptive rogue, and a Horde, no less. A single ray of sunlight fell upon his face, and her heart began to beat faster. “Well,” she said, “I’d be happy if you kept me company for a while.”

The blood elf smiled. “As would I.”

As they stood there, side by side in the afternoon sun, they talked and laughed. Eventually, an unintentional touch of hands evolved into flirting, and flirting into… Well, you’re a grown-up, you can guess the rest.

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Zao’zao in Trouble – Dalehan Tribute!

Zao’zao the huntress had been stalking the satyr for several days before finally locating his camp. His cloven hoof prints and acrid smell did not make it a particularly challenging task. Maybe there was a reason to why he moved about Felwood so conspicuously, but then again, maybe there was not. Either way, the furbolgs of the Timbermaw tribe were desperate for answers – their own brethren, the Deadwood, had suddenly turned against them for inexplicable reasons. Zao’zao was the Timbermaw’s most honored and capable ally, and in many ways, their friendship ran deeper than even the forest’s own corruption.

There were rumors abound of the fel’s demonic influence, and following those, Zao’zao quickly stumbled upon the suspicious satyr at a nearby lake. He clearly had a purpose in mind as he swept the forest floor for strange herbs and wounded the trees for a sampling of their sap. For days on end he continued his pursuit like this, just as Zao’zao continued hers. But she was now hiding in a bush near his makeshift dwelling, prepared to witness the purpose of his expedition, or to strike, if necessary.

The satyr took a torch from the bearing of one of his crude tents and lit a brazier with blue flame. He then uttered spells in a demonic tongue as herbs were thrown into the fire, along with bones and a smidgen of a a thick liquid he had concocted on his trip. Soon the blue fire became a recognizable green, and its pungent smoke filled the air.

Poor Zao’zao could never have anticipated what would happen next. The satyr slowly removed his loincloth, revealing his enormous, dangling member. She instantly became lightheaded at the sight – it had been many months since she had last seen a dick, and furbolgs were not exactly known for their manly charm. Suddenly, Zao’zao lost her footing and broke a branch with a loud crack that echoed throughout the forest, but the satyr did not flinch. Something told her that he had known about her presence for a while now. She slowly got to her feet, and only then did he face her with a large, devious smile on his face. He raised one of his long, crooked fingers and motioned for her to come forward.

Deliriously, Zao’zao stepped out from behind the bushes. Her mind pleaded no, but her body screamed yes. Her emerald eyes were fixed upon the satyr’s swollen cock as she approached him. Soon she fell on her knees and had his muscular behemoth in her hands, caressing it, feeling it throb and harden. Next, she tasted it, running her tongue up and down along the length of his shaft. It was wet and slippery when she finally took it in her mouth. She closed her hand around its base and moved back and forth as she sucked. Her mouth was slowly filled with a thick, gooey secretion that at this point only served to fuel her lust further. The satyr groaned and took hold of her hair, pulling her head close to his groin and forcing his long cock down her throat. Her eyes watered as she gagged on it, and breathing through her nose, her mind went blank from the smells of sex, sweat and intoxicating smoke.

Zao’zao returned to her senses when the satyr pulled out from her mouth. His dick dangled before her, hard as ever, dripping with a mixture of saliva and green, glowing goo. He lifted her to her feet and turned her around, divesting her slender body of every last piece of armor. She was relieved to be rid of it – the sweat made it a sticky burden to her light blue skin. Now she was ready to give in to her lust, to unite with her primal instincts, just as her ancestors once had. She bit her lip as the satyr rubbed his rock-solid dick against her tight opening. He closed a single hand around her waist and pulled her closer, spreading her from within as he entered. His savage thrusts grew into a steady pace before her inner beast took over. She moved in unison with him, slapping her firm buttocks against his sturdy abdomen over and over as his veiny dick massaged her insides. The satyr’s grip around her waist began to tighten, and a few hard thrusts later, he snarled with ferocious delight. In this moment, Zao’zao was overwhelmed by the power of her own orgasm, letting out a scream of pleasure. Her eyes rolled back and her muscles contracted around the satyr’s pulsating cock as he pumped her full with stream after hot stream of glowing seed, until it spilled into her hand and further down upon the ground.

With her legs quivering, Zao’zao was held up by the satyr’s strong clutch alone. Panting, she decided she wanted more. Reclaiming her posture, she moved her hips back to accept his still hard cock, tongue lolling out of her mouth in pure ecstasy. They fucked for hours until the fire in the brazier finally died out and the air became clear once more. Only then did Zao’zao realize what she was doing. The smoke had poisoned her mind, and she had been betrayed by her own, repressed sexual desires. Without warning, she turned around and knocked the satyr out cold. Her face reddened with embarrassment as she stood over his unconscious body, fel cum oozing down her legs. Her eyes darted back and forth among the trees and bushes to see if they were alone. She spat at the beast, picked up her things and swiftly headed off. There were definitely demons out there, corrupting the furbolgs and their home, but this satyr was not one of them. No, this was just a horny goat who had seen his chance to lure a young, unsuspecting troll into his trap.

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Sinful Saturday! The Nightborne’s Plight

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