The Second Council of Queen Yavara had convened as the army amassed in the Tundra, and they’d come up with something absolutely devious. I knew Yavara was ambitious, but I never knew her to be so cunning. The pragmatic ruthlessness of the plan sounded like something Prestira would’ve suggested, but Prestira was gone. Trenok and Brock certainly wouldn’t have agreed to it, and so that only left the wizard himself. Without Elena to serve as a moral counterweight, Zander had clearly stoked Yavara’s more megalomaniacal side. The chieftains of the Ten would die gloriously in battle. Oh, and their sons would too. What a shame, but their names would live forever in the annals of Alkandra’s history. War heroes. Martyrs. Conveniently-dead political opponents. No, my husband and father-in-law would’ve never voted for such a measure, but had I been there, I would have supported it wholeheartedly. I’d stepped over the corpse of my own father to climb the ladder. I pulled the bedding between my legs, grinding my thighs together about it, drawing the sheets between my breasts and inhaling deeply. Ever since Trenok had left for war, I’d been hard-pressed to find a suitable lover. All the warrior males were gone, leaving me with only those tribesmen too old and too young. There were many Ardeni males that were of age, and though they looked upon me with longing, they also averted their eyes quickly. It was like we were a different species. Where were their tattoos? Where were their scars? Where were their muscles honed for killing? They were like cattle, beasts of burden broken by generations of domestication, some mutated offshoot of orc-kind’s evolution that had fled the Great Forest a thousand years ago, foregoing who they really were for the comfort of slavery. I detested them almost as much as I pitied them. So, I had stayed chaste for over a week, which was unbearable after I’d been introduced to the brand of lust Yavara and Elena engaged in. I had tasted Alkandra that night in the chieftain’s hut; not the orc dream of a glorious nation, but the truth of its flesh, and oh, it had ruined me! Its aftertaste lingered in my nethers since that night, and my hunger had only been stoked when the new hybrids arrived. I wanted to hate them so much. They had been rangers, they had been imperials, they had been the worst of my enemies, but now they were Alkandran in their bones, Alkandran in a way I could never be. It was royal; I could not deny it. As much as it galled my tribal pride, there was something deep within my orc blood that recognized the stronger race, and demanded that I submit to it. “Why are we like this?” I asked the ceiling, “Why can’t we forge our own destiny?” But I knew the answer. No orc would ever truly bow to another. The Protaki had only accepted the Terdini because I had married Trenok, and even then, it took Brock’s brutal hand to bring my people firmly to heel. “So, you listen to mom fucking herself often?” She said sarcastically. AJ went to scream but a hand clamped down on her mouth ripping her down from the log. He put his arms around her and pulled her towards him. “You've been my employee for five years. I talked to you yesterday about purchasing a dog.” Then he kissed me, held me and we lay down together on the bed. Bell manages to find her things and does the same. “Yeah, I’ll try.
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“You know, Ms. Lindholm, for someone who claims to be a protector of the little folk, you make for a much better cocksock,” snickered Sven just before driving Brigitte back down the way she came and burying his two-foot bone in her cunt. “Maybe he’s right..” though Brigitte – though her acknowledgment of her other career calling was in thought only, as her mouth was too busy letting out another ecstasy, lust-backed shriek. She was an intimidating combatant out on the fields, and could stand toe-to-toe with war veterans by the likes of Reinhardt Wilhelm who served as a sparring partner to her prior to resorting to picking fights. In the hands of Sven, however, she was little more than blow-up doll. At least, that’s how he was using her as he dragged her up and down on his shaft while his gorilla-sized hands closed almost completely around her waist. “I overheard the other men placing bets over whomever managed to put a baby in you, you know,” Sven piped up after railing the ragdoll swede on his upside-down jackhammer of a cock he was using to prompt Brigitte to reconsider her calling in life. Brigitte did know; she heard it all the while being on the receiving end of a shotgun-blast of baby-making. Through a faceful of her matted tawny hair, she nodded and hoped Sven would get the message. She didn’t want to stop moaning in order to say anything. “I think I’m about to throw my hat in the ring.” Brigitte gulped. It didn’t do much to quell the rising tide of cum splurting from the swollen of Sven’s cock he had lodged up against her cervix. A panging throb emanated from the dong crammed up inside of her to signal the forthcoming gush of gunk flooding up into Brigitte’s womb. Brigitte, meanwhile, was tumbling heels-over-head down the rabbit hole of pleasure as she served as Sven’s catch-all cumdumpster for whatever potent deposit he had for her sperm bank. Her mouth was locked open, her fists twisted and clenched, and her hips were gently bucking along with each pulse of the meatpole she was spiked on. Mercifully, Brigitte felt herself craned up into the air once again and slowly be lifted off from around the head of the double-foot inseminator before it fully softened. Shaky footing found the mat, sticky as it was, and the worn-out gladiator clung to the top ring rope to steady herself. “How are you feeling, Ms. Lindholm? I suppose this makes us even, no?” approached Sven, resting a hand on the shoulder of the woman he made more than a respectable attempt at impregnating. “Y– yeah, it does..” Brigitte murmured almost too quiet to be audible. “.. and you know what?” she continued, slipping one of her hands in between her legs to draw out a heaping mixture of stale and fresh spunk onto the tip of her fingers. She turned around to face Sven with a fierce lust behind her eyes and a wanton grin playing on her lips. Making a show of it, Brigitte popped the gooey tip of her finger in between her lips and slurped the concoction from it. “.. and I’m ready for more.” “Famous Overwatch Member’s Daughter Gone Cock Crazy!” Brigitte regarded the headline cooly for a moment. Below it was a picture of her from the shoulders-up. For her first time making the news, the image was far from what she had expected. In her mind, it would be of her gallantly charging into battle, shield brandished, flail whipping across the scene as it crashed into the metallic skull of a rogue Omnic. Her flag would be raised on her back, rallying her squad to her position as they advanced with her out onto the war-town landscape. Her hair would be whipping in the wind. Instead, her first headline photo was of her eyes rolled back, her tongue-out, and drooling a generous mixture of spit and spunk down off from the tip. It was abundantly clear that the ‘Famous Overwatch Member’s Daughter’ was cumming hard all over something that was going to town on her. At least this rag hadn’t gotten wind that it was actually multiple ‘something’s causing her to borrow the expression of a free-use pass around slut. The article that did follow, however, wasn’t what she would call flattering.
Once she wiped the pee from the floor, between her legs, off each of her legs and feet he took the towel from her, walked her into the master bedroom bath and pushed her into the tub. I'm not a lesbo, but what we did..." Shawn and I switched positions and Katie rolled over and got on her hands and knees. “What she said,” Sandy confirmed, chewing on her bottom lip and daring to hope that she might actually get out of this alive. "No!" I replied in a forced whisper. The only problem was I had no idea how to make my thoughts a reality.
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