Druid's Prey

Within the dark forests of Ashenvale, she watched. Perched high upon a tree branch, she marked her prey. Her purple lips curled into a predatory grin, her mouth watering as she examined every detail of her target with her keen eyesight. The strong, powerful body. The feral grace of its movements. Its bright, green skin.

The night elf smiled to herself. Today, she was hunting orcs.

Below, her prey was unaware he was being watched. The orc, a formidable specimen, knelt at a riverbed and cupped some water in his hands, taking a drink before splashing the rest upon his face. Water trickled down his green skin, mixing with sweat, and dripped from his now matted short beard. Shaking his head, the long braid of black hair whipping around behind him, Drarrak Darkfang stood to his feet, and let out a sharp whistle.

Bursting from the bushes, a white wolf, tall as a man at the shoulder, bounded over to the orc. Stopping right in front of the green skin, the frost wolf stared into his eyes for a moment, the kindred spirit and understanding between the two conveying as much as a conversation between any two people. The wolf leaned forward and nuzzled the orc, the fur around its snout wet from its drinking in the river.

Drar patted the wolf on the neck and placed the animal’s rein in its mouth, and climbed onto its back. The orc only wore simple fur clothing, a vest left open, exposing his muscled and scared chest, a loincloth, leaving his strong legs in full view. Simple hand and foot wraps instead of boots and gauntlets. The only weapon he carried was a simple, if large, hunting knife.

To the elf watching him from the shadows, his choice of dress was intriguing. From the way his body was toned and shaped, from the way he carried himself, and from the many scares he bore, she could see he was an experienced warrior. He would know that trying to look unthreatening in this forest was a good way to be targeted as easy prey for the many night elves who hunted orcs for far less pleasurable reasons than she was. It had occurred to her that perhaps he was a magic user, and indeed she did sense a spiritual aura about him, but it wasn’t as strong as a shaman, and his scent didn’t carry the fel taint of a warlock. This one was a warrior born, and yet he may as well be traveling naked through the forest.

That thought caused the night elf’s mouth to water more.

The answer was that Drarrak was a spirit champion, something of a middle ground between a warrior and a shaman, and he had been in the forest to undertake a vision quest. He had traveled to Demon Fall Canyon, resting place of Grom Hellscream, to meditate for three days. In honor of the fallen orc’s bravery, Drarrak had ventured into the demon infested area without armor or weapon, and had emerged alive. Now he made his way back to Orgrimmar, and from there back to his home in Nagrand, with his draenei wife, Zorja, and their son, Tendrik.

The night elf watching him had other plans. She strode alongside the path as he rode through the woods, deftly bounding through thick underbrush as if it wasn’t there, her long legs carrying her quickly enough to keep pace with the wolf mounted orc. She kept her distance, far enough away, deep enough in the shadows that she couldn’t be sensed. She was excited, delighted. So close to home, the orc had dropped his guard.

One couldn’t blame him. Few elves, no matter how vengeful, would pursue an orc this far into the Horde held regions of Ashenvale to satisfy their blood lust. But vengeance wasn’t what motivated this elf. Blood wasn’t what she lusted for. She smiled ear to ear. The huntress was closing in on her prey. All that was left now was to set the bait.

Drarrak rode along through the forest without much focus on the world around him. He was tired, he hadn’t slept for two days, and his thoughts were on the warm bed and the warm haunch of mutton that awaited him in the Orgrimmar inn, not potential threats around him. He had been alert and aware earlier, passing through night elf or demon held lands, this close to the Warsong lumber mill, however, he felt secure.

Until, without realizing why, he sharply leaned backwards in his saddle. As he did, he caught the blur of an arrow passing in front of his face, feeling the distortion of air pass over his skin as it whizzed by. Pulling Icefang’s reins, causing the massive wolf to skid to a halt, Drar’s eyes shot to the direction the arrow came from.

Not even trying to hide her presence, a kaldorei archer stood upon a the root of a large tree, bow in hand. Drar dismounted, drawing his knife as the elf strung another arrow. He charged forward, ducking as the arrow flew by his head, slicing his shoulder. He didn’t break stride. Icefang charged on ahead of him, and the elf turned, sprinting off into the woods.

Drar picked up a fallen tree limb as he gave chase, striking it against the trunk of one of the massive trees to test its strength. It would make a decent club in addition to his knife. Icefang darted into the underbrush and out of sight, leaving behind a clear trail for his master to follow as he tracked the archer deeper into the forest.

Aware that he may well be running into a trap, Drarrak slowed down, following the trail cautiously. As he progressed into the forest, he noted scattered stones overgrown with plants; the ruins of a night elf temple of some sort, long abandoned. The orc cursed himself, as he realized he had likely walked into an ambush in his anger. It was too late to turn back, now; he suspected he was already surrounded. He reasoned his only chance was to fight his way out when the elves decided to spring their trap.

Drar ducked into a small crevasse between two ruined buildings to give himself some cover as he crept through the woods. Hugging the taller wall, he concentrated on calming his mind, focusing on his surroundings. The ruins were too still, too quiet. Places like these were normally gathering points for animals or moving plants; ancients, bog beasts, something. But he didn’t even hear the sound of a bird chirping.

Until he heard an all too familiar growl; Icefang, just around the corner up ahead. Drar began forward, still tight to the wall, when he heard a thud; the sound of a large body hitting the ground. A body bigger than a night elf’s, bigger than an orc’s. A body the size of a frost wolf. Drar moved to the end of the wall quickly, but aware of the possibility of an ambush, peered around the corner to assess the situation.

Icefang lay on the floor of a night elf building with the archer standing not far away. He was still breathing, though Drar couldn’t tell if he had been wounded or not. The archer stood a few feet away, towards the back wall of the structure. Her bow was in pieces at her feet, and she held a moon glaive in her hand, though it didn’t appear to have any blood on it.

The building was surprisingly intact; only a single wall was collapsed from what Drar could see; the wall he was looking into. There didn’t seem to be any perches or openings from where an archer could strike at him, even down the path that the ruined wall faced. Nothing about the situation made sense. It was too easy, to convenient. But Drar didn’t have time to think about it; his companion, Icefang, his best friend in the world, lay only a few yards from him, and needed his help.

“For the Horde!” Drarrak Darkfang charged around the corner and into the ruin with the elf, knife and club held high, trying to look as threatening as possible. It wasn’t a wasted effort; even without armor or a proper weapon, the orc was still over seven feet and three hundred pounds of battle-hardened muscle, a truly imposing image. He roared, issuing a challenge to the elven woman who had attacked him and led him to this place.

She didn’t answer. She didn’t respond in anyway.

Drarrak blinked, examining her for the first time. She was young, the armor she wore was made for the newest recruits into the sentinel army. Not a single dent or blemish on it; not a nick on her blade. Not a single scar on her silver skin that he could spot. This elf had never seen combat. But more importantly, she had never seen Drarrak Darkfang. She still didn’t see him, even though he was right in front of her.

The elf’s silver eyes were dull, unfocused, and unblinking. Her posture was unguarded, and she didn’t seem aware of anything around her. Her head tilted forward and to the right, the first movement she had made since before Drarrak had entered the room, and a small spider crawled out of her blue hair, onto her neck.

At once Drarrak realized something was wrong, but it was too late. The air around him began to swirl, and before he realized it he was lifted off the ground, his weapons blown away, rendered completely unable to move by the small tornado that had been magically spawned from no where.

The creator of the whirlwind jumped from the archer’s neck a spider, and landed on the ground a night elf woman. She stood up, about an inch taller than Drarrak or the archer behind her. Fully nude and without a weapon, she was still far more imposing than the first elf.

Her skin was purple, normal for a night elf, except that parts of it seemed to be more scales than skin. Her hair, reaching half way down her back, was a sickly shade of green that turned more to brown towards the tips, like a rotting plant. Her finger and toenails seemed very much like claws. And her eyes were glowing an eerie shade of bluish green.

She looked Drarrak right in the eye, her purple lips curling into a predatory grin.

He knew what she was. A druid of the Nightmare.

The druid turned from the orc as he floated helplessly above the ground, her ass swaying gracefully as she approached the other night elf. Placing her right hand on the archer’s left hip, she lifted her chin with her other hand. The young elf still didn’t show any signs of recognition, even as she was touched.

“Thank you, my little bait,” The druid said, looking into the glazed eyes of the entranced woman, “you’ve served well.” The druid pressed her lips against those of the archer, and kissed her deeply, though it was unreturned. As she kissed her, the druid slid her hand around the younger elf’s waist, taking hold of the hilt of a dagger she had left in the girl’s belt after enthralling her. Breaking the kiss, she stepped to the side, facing Drarrak as she pulled the dagger- in fact the tooth from a giant spider- free of the belt, and slashed the sentinel’s throat with it.

Drarrak scowled. Though he had intended to kill the young elf himself just moments before, there was no honor in such a kill. She had been helpless, and he had pieced together that she was an innocent pawn to this druid. He had heard of the vast mental powers that the Nightmare bestowed upon its followers, and this had been a brutal demonstration of them.

The winds around the orc settled before the young elf’s corpse hit the ground. Landing on one knee, Drarrak pushed himself up, charging for the druid. He knew his only chance was to beat her down before she could cast any magic upon him, and he very much intended to beat her to death with his bear hands. Unfortunately, she waved her hand in his direction, and he didn’t get two steps towards her.

Corrupted roots shot forth from cracks in the overgrown stone floor, wrapping around one ankle, then the other. Drarrak nearly tripped, but held his footing and tried to free himself. More vines shot forth, grabbing his wrists. His muscles strained as he fought to break free, but to no avail. The roots tightened suddenly, and pulled him back with a jerk, and he found himself flat on his back, bound to the floor.

“Quite a bit of fight in you, orc. I do like that.” The elf smirked. Drarrak lifted his head, looking at her with a snarl, and glancing at the body of the young elf girl. She followed his glance, and spat on her corpse, wiping her lips and spitting again. “Night elves. Such disgusting creatures, wouldn’t you agree?” She said, walking toward him.

“You don’t consider yourself among them? Or are you just so self loathing?” Drarrak responded, fixing his glare on her as he struggled.

“I haven’t considered myself an elf for a very long time, my green skinned friend.” the druid answered as she stepped beside him, pressing her foot onto his stomach, digging the claws on her toes into his well defined abs to punctuate her point. “You may call me Revo.”

Drarrak only growled in response.

Revo lowered herself down so that she was straddling the orc, her pussy lips pressing against the fur of his loincloth. She cooed as her hands pressed against his strong, muscled chest, fingers tracing the lines of his sculpted form. She worked them down to his abs, gliding one finger through the black blood that trickled out of the wounds left by the claws on her feat. Coating the finger with the blood, she brought it up to her lips and sucked on it eagerly, closing her eyes in pleasure and grinding her dampening pussy against him.

Drarrak growled and roared as he struggled against the roots holding him to the ground, but it was useless. His strong arms couldn’t budge the vines from their place, and his struggling only caused the thorns to bite into his skin more. Revo opened her eyes, taking her now clean finger out of her mouth and smiled down at him.

“What fight in you…” She purred, placing both hands on his abs and sliding them up his chest as she leaned down. He tried to raise his head to take a bite out of her, but she pulled back at the last second. The next thing he knew, more roots grew from the ground beneath him, arching over his neck and constricting so that he could barely breath. He held his neck tight, trying to force a way out, but he couldn’t. “And though I find that fight infinitely arousing, if you keep it up you’ll die before I get to have my fun.”

After a moment, the vine around his neck loosened, still restraining him but allowing him room to breath. Revo smirked and leaned down again, flat against his chest. Her ample breasts pressed against his skin as she kissed and licked the top of his chest just below his neck. Her hands moved to his pectorals, taking his nipples between her thumbs and forefingers and rubbing them slowly. Though consciously disgusted by the situation, Drarrak’s body reacted instinctually, and his cock began to grow and bulge within his loincloth.

Drarrak immediately renewed his fight, thrashing and struggling as best he could, bound securely as he was. The most damage he was able to do, however, was grinding his hips harder against her lips, a growing wetness dripping from them at this point. As his fight died down again, convinced of the futility of it, Revo crawled up his body, her pussy rubbing against the bare skin of his abs, her breasts dragging across his chest until her face was next to his.

“You don’t fear death at all, do you?” She asked, whispering in his ear before flicking her tongue over it- her tongue which he now realized was forked.

“Of course not.” He grunted in response.

“Ah, what do you fear, I wonder…” She said, mostly to her self as she licked his right cheek, dragging her tongue up and down it. Her right hand rested on his left cheek, her thumb tracing up and down his tusk. It took him a moment to realize that she was reading his mind. Unable to move his head enough to bite or strike her, he focused his will on expelling her from his thoughts, though exhausted as he was it proved difficult.

“I see now…Zorja…Tendrik…” She grinned wickedly as she spoke the name of his wife and child.

“If you so much as think their names again I will beat you to death with your own severed limbs!” Drarrak practically roared at her.

“You don’t fear your own death, but you do fear theirs. Interesting.” Revo ignored him, continuing on with her thinly veiled threats. The implication was obvious; if he resisted her further she would track down and kill his family. Drarrak couldn’t be sure if she had managed to learn their location from his thoughts, and Zorja was certainly capable of defending herself, but this elf had managed to take him by surprise. There was a very real chance she could do the same to his wife. Unwilling to take the risk, the orc rested his head back with a heavy sigh. Revo chuckled victoriously.

“You know what I love most about your race, orc?” the night elf asked as she violently removed his vest. Drarrak didn’t respond, nor did she expect him too. She leaned down, running her forked tongue over his bare chest, flicking it over his nipple and sucking on it briefly before tracing her tongue back up to his ear. “You’re pure.”

That odd statement managed to get a some what curious, confused look out of Drarrak, and the orc raised an eyebrow. The druid rubbed her body against his and nibbled on his ear as she answered the unasked question. “Every creature on this planet; humans, dwarves, elves, trolls, even tauren…they are rotted through with corruption. The titans warped and perverted what should have been.”

“You’re insane. You know that, don’t you?” Was all Drar could say.

Revo only smiled, and indeed it was a rather insane smile, raising her head so she faced him dead in the eye, placing her hands almost lovingly on his cheeks. “But your kind…you came from a world untouched by their foul hands. You are as you should be. Beautiful. Pure.” Revo leaned down and kissed him deeply, though he did not return the kiss, he could taste his own blood on her tongue as it slithered around inside of his mouth.

“Mmm,” Revo broke the kiss, sitting up straight. Her pussy lips slide over the cuts from her claws earlier, and her juices stung him as they seeped into his wounds. She leaned back, placing bracing her self by grabbing hold of his cock, squeezing the large member through the fur of his loincloth. She closed her eyes, rubbing her clit as she began grinding her pussy against his rough skin, moaning softly as she did, stroking his swollen cock.

With a sudden movement, she tore the loincloth from him, leaving him naked on the ground. She looked down at his member, smiling like a child who had just opened the greatest Winter’s Veil gift they had ever received. She stroked it, caressed it lovingly, the tips of her claw-like fingernails teasing his skin as she did. Drar couldn’t help but groan at the attention.

Revo flipped her leg over, turning around so that her back was to Drar’s head. She moved back, placing her ass very near his face, wrapping both of her hands around his shaft. She looked back at him over her shoulder and smiled wickedly. “I’m going to get your cock nice and wet before it goes inside of me. I want you to return the favor…lick my pussy, lick my ass. Do it well, or I’ll make you watch as I kill everyone you love.”

Drarrak snarled at her, receiving a laugh in response. This was a two pronged defeat. Firstly, he was being humiliated, forced to serve without a chance to fight. Secondly, he was being forced to betray his beloved, to whom he had always been loyal. It was a wound to his pride and his honor, and stung deeper than any blade that had pierced his flesh.

But he obeyed. As she lay against him, moving her pussy over his lips, the flat of his tusks pressing against her thighs, he stuck his tongue out and lapped at her cunt. Her taste was sickly sweet, much different from that of his wife. It was at once delicious and disgusting, but he continued anyway, knowing his best chance was to get her to lower her guard in pleasure. Hopefully that would give him the opening needed to slay her.

Revo cooed in appreciation as the rough tongue lapped over her lips, moaning as it passed her clit. When her own forked tongue had passed over the rough, wet organ in his mouth, she had known it would feel wonderful; she had underestimated just how skilled the orc would be with his tongue. And now she found herself very close to her first orgasm, already so worked up from teasing and taunting this orc, and from grinding her bare lips against his body.

The druid lowered down and began running her tongue up and down the orc’s shaft, using his cock to distract her from his tongue and delay her climax. She ran her tongue up and down, licking his balls before sliding back down to his head, the twin tips of her tongue sliding around the rim of his glands. She began to stroke his length as she licked his head, moaning against his flesh as his tongue slide into her cunt, pulsing around inside of her.

Her lips closed around the large head of the cock and she began flicking her tongue over it, teasing the tip between the forks of her tongue. As she took more of the member into her mouth, her hand slid down the length in time, wrapping around his balls and squeezing and rubbing them as she pulsed her tongue against his dick.

Try as she might to delay it, Drarrak’s well-practiced tongue was pushing her closer and closer to the edge. As his tusks scraped the inside of her thighs, his tongue moved down one lip and up the other, brushing over her clit. With one movement it would drag over slowly with pressure behind it, with another it would dart over quickly. He would lash it over her pussy completely or jut barely tease her with its touch. And then he thrust the large tongue between her folds and inside of her completely, pulsing and writhing around inside of her.

That was the final shove to force her over, and she lurched forward as she climaxed, taking his cock all the way into her mouth and spraying hot juices into his, covering his face. Drarrak had to fight the urge to simply bite into the elf with his powerful jaws and sharp teeth, knowing that she’d be able to heal herself from such a wound, and knowing she’d kill him and those he loved in retaliation. So instead he swallowed the sour juices that flooded his mouth, biding his time.

Revo closed her eyes and moaned around the thick piece of meat in her mouth and throat as she came. She sucked and licked his cock hard, momentarily caught up in the ecstasy she felt. Once it passed, she realized he was no longer licking her. Slowly, almost reluctantly, she raised her head back, the green member leaving her mouth, her tongue licking up a few drops of precum from the tip. She readjusted herself, moving her asshole closer to his mouth. Looking back over her shoulder she gave a command; “Lick it. Lick my ass.”

Drar knew from the tone of her voice that she wouldn’t ask again. He let out a defiant growl, but obeyed , his tongue sliding over her tight hole before circling around her rim. He felt her lips around his head again, and within seconds his member was fully engulfed in her mouth again. He hated to admit she was good; not as good as his wife, but he had to concentrate on holding back moans and sounds of pleasure as his tongue slipped inside her.

Revo’s tongue swirled around the thick, hard cock in her mouth as she rubbed and squeezed his balls, her left hand sliding between his legs. Muffled moans and squeaks escaped her lips as she traced her fingers along his skin, her sharp fingernails moving along the inside of his thigh. Her head bobbed slightly on his shaft, moving it in and out of her throat, her finger tracing a circle around his anus.

Drar’s body went stiff for a moment; he wasn’t completely a stranger to that kind of treatment, he was once in a relationship with a troll woman who enjoyed similar activities, but he wasn’t exactly keen on those sharp nails being inside of him. But still, he suppressed the rage in his heart to lash out at the elf. If he struggled now, she could cut him on the inside, either intentionally or accidentally, and even if he managed to kill her, exhausted as he was he’d likely bleed to death from such a wound before he found someone to heal it. And he would not suffer a death so humiliating as that. He needed her to believe he was broken, so he continued to lick her, running his tongue back and forth from her ass to her pussy.

The elf smiled inwardly as she sucked the piece of orc meat in her mouth, savoring the taste and letting out a muffled moan. She had expected him to struggle when she touched his ass; to rant and rave and thrash about. She loved the purity of orcs, but that pure savagery often prevented them from thinking clearly. She knew, as she slipped her finger into his anus, that either he was plotting something or was submitting to her will. And while she remained suspicious, a combination of pleasure from his tongue and hopefulness at the prospect of a willing slave certainly made her lean towards the possibility of him giving in.

She worked one finger into his ass, then two, thrusting them out slowly as she sucked his cock. The orc grunted, groaned, and moaned as she fingered him, his hot breath blowing against her wet pussy lips. Revo lifted up until only the head of his cock was inside of her mouth, and she closed her lips tightly around it as she sucked it, wrapping one hand around the shaft and squeezing. The back of her sharp nails pressed against his prostate A shudder ran through the muscular body beneath her, and she pressed again. The orc meat in her mouth and hand swelled and bulged, becoming even larger and harder. She pressed a knuckle against his prostate, harder than before, her tongue swirling around the tip of his cock.

Drar shuddered once more, then his body went stiff. The orc let out a loud roar and hot cum flooded the elf’s mouth. She let out a loud “Mmmph!” sound as it washed over her tongue and down her throat, so much of it that it spilt from her lips and ran down her chin from the corners of her mouth. She reared up, letting the dick fall from her mouth and taking a deep breath with a healthy helping of cum still on her tongue as she savored the taste of it. The orc cock in her hand twitched and pulsed and shot out another stream, this one covering her chest. Her smile was wide as she pulled the fingers from his ass and brought her left hand up to her cum covered breast, kneading it and pinching her nipple.

Revo just sat there straddling him for what seemed like a long time, basking in the feeling and the taste. Drarrak was thoroughly disgusted with himself, but such thoughts were secondary to the overwhelming exhaustion he was feeling. Two days without sleep and blood loss from struggling against the thorny vines had taken their toll. Even orcs, renowned for their stamina, had limits, and Drarrak neared his. His cock began to go soft in Revo’s hand and his eyelids grew heavy as he felt himself drift into unconsciousness.

A liquid dripped onto his face and lips, causing him to abruptly wake after what he could only guess were several minutes later. The liquid found its way into his mouth and he quickly spat it out upon identifying the taste; sweat mixed with his own semen. Blinking several times, his eyes refocused, and he saw Revo leaning over him, still covered in cum and a noticeable sheen of sweat, her hands planted firmly on his shoulders as she chanted words he couldn’t understand, though the pain in his arms and abdomen told him what she was doing- healing him.

It was taxing on her; druids of the nightmare used their powers to harm, not to heal. But with effort and focus, the shallow cuts on his abs sealed. The deep lacerations on his arms closed and healed. His energy was returned to him, and with it, his cock swelled and hardened once more. The deranged elf smiled ear to ear as she felt the stiff member press against the inside of her lower thigh. She licked her lips, happily swallowing more of the orc’s seed.

“I bet you were relieved, weren’t you? Drifting off like that?” She asked him. Leaning down, her cum splattered breasts pressed against his chest, and she ran her tongue along his cheek to his ear, nibbling and sucking on his earlobe. “I couldn’t let you go that easily. Not until I’ve had my fill. I want that cock inside of me, I want you to please me. And unless I’m satisfied, you’ll suffer.”

Revo reared up, and placed her hand on his chest as she raised up off her knees to a squatting position. She took hold of his hard cock and lined it up with her wet pussy, spreading her lips wide with her other hand, one finger rubbing her clit. She bit her lip slightly as she pressed the head of his cock to her nether lips, and let out a deep, low moan as she began lowering her self onto his shaft, inch after inch.

Drarrak could only close his eyes and let his head fall back. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be with this woman. He wanted to snap her neck and be on his way. He felt humiliated, disgraced, and helpless. That stung the worst. He had been captured before during war times, and while it wasn’t pleasant, he had never caved to enemy demands even under torture, and he had killed his captors in his escape. But this elf had made him a victim, something no warrior of the Alliance, no demon of the Burning Legion, no monster of the Scourge, or anyone else could claim in over a decade of fighting. He felt loathing for her and for himself, both because of his weakness in being unable to stop this and because of his body’s natural reaction to enjoy it.

Revo, for her part, found his reluctance and mental anguish every bit as arousing as his body and the long, thick cock that was slowly impaling her. She balanced herself with a hand planted on his chest as she kept her pussy lips parted with the other, one finger constantly rubbing her clit. Her breathing was rapid and she moaned loudly. She imagined his suffering as she touched herself, using her mental powers as best she could while so distracted by physical pleasure so that she could experience for herself what he was. And she got off on it.

“Ooooh…fuck…” She let out with a gasp as she finally lowered herself all the way onto the hard cock. She lowered off her feet and onto her knees as she straddled the orc, stroking his chest with her left hand before bringing it up to rub her sticky breast, the other continuing to rub her clit. She rocked her hips back and forth, grinding on his cock as she smiled down at him, bringing the hand on her breast up to her lips and sucking on her fingers, licking the cum from them.

Drarrak opened his eyes to look at her. Anger and hatred burned behind them, but he tried to remain focused, eying her up and down for a sign of weakness. And indeed she did seem a bit drained and weary. He could only assume that her use of magic, especially the healing, was tiring her. He considered how he could use this, thinking of how he could trick her into draining enough energy so that the vines would release him.

As if on queue, the vines around his neck and arms released him. He blinked once, and then instantly reared up and lunged at her. He aimed to wrap his powerful arms around her and crush her bones, but just before his arms locked in place they were seized by another set of vines, this one extending down from the roof. It had been another trick, and Drar had blindly leapt into it again.

“Well, that wasn’t very nice of you…” Revo said in a rather amused tone as the vines brought his wrists together above his head, tying them tightly. Then they pulled upward, and Drar found himself suspended at a forty five degree angle. Revo wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding on his cock still, and hooked her arms around him and back over his shoulders, rubbing her breasts against his chest. “You’ll have to be punished for that.”

At her words the vines began pulling tighter, and he felt as if his arms were being pulled out of his sockets. He growled and snarled and clenched his teeth, but she only smiled as she began to ride his dick, pulling herself up and down on his shaft with her hold on his shoulders. Her strong legs squeezed his body as she licked and kissed his chest, his shaft gliding in and out of her soaking cunt.

Drarrak thrashed and bucked against the vines as they tried to pull his arms from their sockets. The angle was more favorable and the thorns didn’t bit into his flesh as deeply, but in the end all his thrashing accomplished was that his cock drove deeper and harder into the elf as she dug her fingers into his flesh, blood dripping to the stone below them as the sharp fingernails pierced his skin. Revo moaned loud and deeply, rearing her head back and whipping it forward. As she did, her long hair flipped upwards and struck Drarrak in the face, tiny thorns on each strand tearing at him like a scourge.

Revo buried her face into Drar’s chest, biting down into his chest. Drarrak let out a roar as her sharp teeth dug into his pectoral muscles, straining harder against his bindings and thrusting harder into the elf’s pussy. Revo lashed her forked tongue over the wound as she lifted up and down on his hard shaft, her walls clenching around it as her clit grinded against his flesh. Her breasts squeezed against his chest as blood and saliva trickled down his side, her stiff nipples rubbing against his firm muscles.

The elf shifted slightly so that the orc’s cock struck her in a more favorable angle. With each thrust she let out a loud moan against his wounded flesh, the sound of their flesh smacking together reverberating throughout the ruins. She began shaking, subtly at first but before long it became violent. Drarrak’s body began to go stiff as his cock swelled inside of her. Revo released the bite on his chest and threw her head back, a scream emanating from her bloody lips.

In that moment Revo felt absolute bliss and Drar absolute disgust as they reached climax together, Revo’s inner walls convulsing around Drarrak’s cock as Drarrak sprayed waves of hot cum into the elf’s cunt. The possibility that he could impregnate this horrid creature crossed his mind and horrified him, though his fears were unwarranted. As much as she would have wanted to, Revo was incapable of bearing his child or any other- the changes the Nightmare had wrought on her body had left her sterile.

Thoughts on the subject passed through their heads as a mixture of their juices dripped down to the floor from between their legs, mixing with the blood that had already fallen. Revo, looking very much exhausted, rested her head against Drarrak’s chest, pressing her ear to his skin to listen to his heartbeat and breathing. She flicked her tongue out over his skin, licking his sweat as she traced her clawed finger over the bite she left on him, inflicting no small amount of pain on the orc. Her lips curled into a smile at his agonized grunts.

Drarrak let out a sight, letting his head fall back and hissing in pain as she dug her fingernail into the wound. He looked up at his bound wrists; the vines held just as strong now as before. He pulled against them but it was no use. Closing his eyes, the orc began to pray for deliverance, humbly asking the spirits to aid him in where he had failed alone.

“Now now,” Revo flattened her palm over the bite mark and pressed down on his chest, pushing herself upright as she looked down on him, “you don’t think we’re finished yet, do you?” She brought her bloodied hand to her pussy, stroking the base of the cum covered shaft that was still buried inside of her before bringing her fingers up to rub her clit. “We aren’t nearly done yet.”

Drarrak looked up at her, confused and disgusted at what he saw. Her clit began to swell and grow as she rubbed it, and within moments it stood out from her body as long and as thick as his own cock. The Druid of the Nightmare grinned wickedly as she looked down at her orc captive. “I told you I would punish you for your defiance.”

The elf waved her hand at the vines that held Drarrak and then lifted her self off his cock. The vines began to twist, turning Drar over so that he faced the ground. Skillfully Revo climbed over onto his back, her enlarged- and rock hard- clit dragging over the orc’s muscled body. Sitting on the back of his strong thighs, she reached between her legs to spread some of the juices still pouring from her cunt over her clit, moaning as she stroked it, lubing it up. She then took two finger tips and thrust them inside herself, spreading the juices on them over the orc’s asshole.

Revo slid the clit between his cheeks, rubbing the length of it against his hole as she laid down flat against his back. She took a firm grip of his long braided hair and yanked his head backwards painfully, so that she could better whisper in his ear. Flicking her tongue over it at first, then biting it a bit harder than playfully, but not enough to bite it off, she then spoke, “This is going to hurt. A lot. But you’ll come to love it in time. After a while, you won’t even care when I murder you’re wife and son.”

As she spoke, Drarrak felt her press the tip of it against his asshole. Before he could respond or react in anyway, however, there was a loud snapping sound. Then he felt himself swinging forward by his arms- the vines holding his ankles had been cut.

Revo, taken by surprise, fell to the ground, landing on her ass. Enraged, she turned and stood, looking to see what creature dared to interrupt her.

Right in front of her, a spear stuck out of the ground, having severed the vines that held Drarrak. A few yards away, just passed the ruined wall of the building, stood a the figure who threw it. Grey faun from the waist down, beautiful and naked elven woman with leaves for hair from the waist up. A dryad, another spear drawn and ready to be thrown right through the druid’s heart.

“Run. Run away now, you foul creature. Run and pray me and my sisters don’t find you.” The dryad offered. Revo mused at the weak creature’s hesitation, they so hated having to resort to violence. That hesitation was hopefully all Revo needed- she reached forward for the first spear the dryad threw- her magic would be useless against this creature, she’d have to kill it through physical means. She only had to hope she was the faster.

She never got the chance to find out.

Drarrak lifting himself up by pulling on the vines that still held his wrists, wrapping his powerful legs around the elf’s neck in a scissor’s motion and pulling her back away from the weapon, squeezing tightly. Revo began working her hands in preparation for a spell, and Drarrak called out to the dryad, “Kill her!”

The dryad hesitated a moment…and then let the spear fly. It was a moment too long, and the spear flew through thin air, barely missing Drarrak as his legs swung back down to the ground again. And there, at his feed, was Revo- in the form of a spider roughly the size of a house cat. The creature let out a chatter, moving just in time to avoid being stomped on, and scurried at blinding speed through a crack in the wall and out into the forest, disappearing among the underbrush.

The dryad bounded over to Drarrak, and dispelled the magical vines that held him in place. Catching him as he stumbled forward, she tried to get him to sit, “Come now, brave orc. You must rest while I tend to your wounds…that wicked creature may have poisoned you.”

“I’ll be fine. You should go after the witch.”

“She’s long out of my reach by now. And if not, she’s waiting for me to go out after her so she can double back and take you. Now you must lay and rest while I make sure you’re alright.”

“I’ll survive a bite and some scratches.” Drar protested, and then suddenly remembering Icefang, he turned sharply to his wolf who still lay against the far wall. “Icefang! Is he-”

“A simple hibernation spell. He’ll sleep for another hour or so. You should as well. I can tell by your eyes- you’ve been through an ordeal.”

“I’ll live.” Drarrak said.