The Well-Laid Plans of Mages and Martyrs
On the Bloody Fields of Snow
“One.” Sylvanas’ voice sent an echo of horror through the panicked mage. Her body shambled as fast as she could through the snow, but her body was torn and beaten like a rag doll, the snow seemed to offer naught but resistance to her climb. “Two~” Jaina could hear the creak of Sylvanas’ bow as she drew back and arrow. Here the mage no longer crossed and cradled her body with her arms, instead pumping them against the pain. She could see the beginning of the barrier on the ground. Just a few feet further--- “Three.” The arrow launched from Sylvanas’ bow would splinter mid flight, breaking off into 8 separate strikes that came to rain upon Jaina. None of the shots were meant to be lethal, after all, that’d end Sylvanas’ fun too quickly. Instead they’d scrape across her flesh, the razor wood leaving quite a trail of devastation across the mage’s body. Both arms suffered severe lashes, as well as her thighs and calves. Jaina couldn’t fight her reaction to the pain, crumbling to her knees before falling to her side. She’d curl up in the fetal position, trying best to cover her wounds and body as she heard the soft crunch of snow echoing under the Dark Lady’s plated boots. Sylvanas would look down at the mage’s feeble form with disgust. With a angered sneer she’d bend down, grabbing a handful of blonde locks by the base of her skull and dragging the mage kicking and screaming back with her to the center of her prison. “Do you know how long I was tortured, Jaina, before being placed upon the alter?” Sylvanas didn’t care if Jaina actually heard the words under her own screams of panick. “Far~ longer than the time afforded to play with you. Arthas‘ minions defiled my mind and body in ways I had never imagined before setting me before their King. We‘ve only been going at it for a little while and you keep running out of life on me.” Here she’d put her strength into throwing the mage in front of her, sending her body face first into the snow. Sylvanas’ armored boot would slam into the mage’s back as she tried to rise, intentionally digging her sharpened heels into her spine. She’d come to a kneel, resting all her weight solely on the leg atop the mage and the pressure into her heel. “I’m going to let you in on a Secret Ms Proudmoore..” A hand would come to the curve of Jaina’s ass, patting it with a mocking approval before her nails clenched the fabric in her old. She made little work of the tattered fabric, forcefully ripping it off the frail form under her. She’d bring the scraps in front of her, inspecting the shreds. Once finding a piece she was satisfied with, she’d grab the mages arms, which where currently clawing into the snow to try and pull the woman out from underneath that unrelenting boot. The ranger was very versed in knots and restraints, having the mage’s arms bound at the wrist with her own fabric. Once satisfied, she’d give Jaina a moment of relief, removing her planted foot as she once again came to a stand. She’d look around the field for a moment before shrugging lightly, her hips swaying with each self-gratified step. “I hate Arthas for what he’s done to me. Slaughtering my people, ripping and tearing the very essence of my soul for his twisted amusement. After being connected with his mind, I began to understand the madness. Not to say I condone, or even forgive him and what he’s become, but I truly began to understand it. And as I bared witness of the mental torture that plagued his mind, I found something very interesting.” She could hear Jaina’s bare body shivering against the snow, her warm blood now becoming a flakey frozen coat. As Sylvanas took one more step, she felt the object she was looking for shift beneath her boot. “This entire mess was avoidable. Along his travels there was one person whom had noone under her to protect, and noone above her to answer to. The one person he truly would go so far as to trade his kingdom for, and thought felt the same for him. One person who not only had the power emotionally to stop him in his wake, but physically. She was trained from some very powerful mages after all.” She bent down, brushed the snow from the object. “Arthas died in the name of protecting his people. I succumbed to the same fate, both of our missions proving futile in the end. But you? You didn’t so much as raise a hand to save those people at the very beginning of his madness. It’s unfair that you should continue to live your comfortable life, weaving every powerful man and beast into your hollow grasp.” She’d pull Jaina’s staff from the snow, inspecting it with zeal as the wheels turned in her twisted head. Her gaze would turn back to Jaina as she made her way back, grasping firmly on the staff with one hand, her other hand caressing it ever so lovingly as her eyes narrowed in only on her playmate’s. “You’re king is a coward!” Jaina screamed, rolling to her side and wriggling her body, trying to create distant between her and the coming onslaught. “You hear me Arthas?! Sending your pet to do your work! If wants to defile me, to teach me a lesson,he can come himself instead of sending his Banshee bitch.” “That’s the secret. Shhhh~” She brought her finger to her own lips when she‘d shush her. She‘d then grab the mage by the arm, flipping her back onto her chest with a force to match the hatred growing within her. “This~ was my decision, Arthas had no part of it. I’m no more controlled than I ever was. Though. I did offer him the invitation to come, and witness this for himself, or perhaps to see if he’d even stop me.” She’d go into a kneel behind the mage, one hand grabbing hard onto the fragile woman’s hip so rough that her nails embedded deep within her, easily drawing blood. The other would roll the staff around the mages back, collecting blood at the tip, and only the very tip, of it, before bringing to the entrance of her quivering pussy’s entrance, knowing it would be a very, very tight fit. “You know what he said to my offer? Hmmm?” “I’m sorry, Sylvanas… I can’t watch you do this.” With that she’d forcefully plunge the staff into her little bitch, basking in her screams of perversion and despair. Again, and again, she’d penetrate Jaina with her own staff, her malicious laugh echoing beneath the anti-magic shield. The more blood she drew, the more rampant her thrusts would become, feeling a moist pool of her own fluids beginning to collect between her legs in her excitement. She’d begin sliding herself up the fallen Ms. Proudmoore, the pain and agony causing Jaina to thrash about beneath the ranger’s undead form, her face buried in the snow without the lack of support from her arms. Sylvanas’ desired to feel every tremble of pain that echoed through the human’s body. Her hand would release the mage’s hip while the other continued to impale her ceaselessly. That liberated hand would instead grab the blonde by her locks, pulling her hair back with a hateful passion. “You WILL NOT hide your screams from me, wench! You fucked me over, now you will feel my pain!” Her brow would furrow as she cackled maniacally. Her crimson eyes would begin to manifest visual wave of hatred at the creases of her eyes as she took Jaina as hard and painfully as she could. Oh, she could do this all night, not once getting tired of the mages pathetic crying and earsplitting screams. She would have too, however the mental warning of her banshee’s had kicked in. Between her laughter and Jaina’s cries for help, a patrolling Argent Dawn hippogryph rider had overheard the fun and begun advancing their way. She would have gladly taken care of the guard and gone about her business, but the banshees’ own magic had begun to deplete as well and needed recharging. With a sigh of fustration, she’d rip the blood-laced staff from Jaina’s body, simultaneously throwing her face first back into the snow. She watched Jaina’s form crumble into a sniveling shell of her former proud self as she fell to her side. “Now, now-” the Dark Lady would whisper in mock-sweetness. “that’s enough of that. One of Fordring’s minions is coming to get you as we speak. Aren’t you happy? Doesn’t that make you smile?” Sylvanas would caress Jaina’s cheek, her crimson orbs imposing themselves deeply into the mage’s fragmented mind. She’d bring her face in, forcefully striking her lips into the mages mouth. As Jaina tried with what little strength she had left to block the advance, Sylvanas would pull her hair back once more, forcefully jutting open the mage’s mouth as Sylvanas continued to seal the deal. Jaina did release one small breath of relief, knowing this kiss would be Sylvanas’ last before she’d leave her defiled in the snow. But as that small bit of guard left her, Sylvanas would give her one last gift. As she felt Jaina merely going with the kiss to try and bring it to a swift end, she’d lead the mage’s warm, living flesh into her mouth. One last bloodcurling scream would be released from the mage, following by the sound of gurgling. She would try to bring her hands to her mouth, instinctively needing to cover her mouth, but they still where bound behind her. The gurgled screams of panick would continue as Jaina thrashed about in the snow like a fish out of water as Sylvanas simply stood, using the blood covered staff as support, as she ever-so-carelessly walked away. As she reached her banshees she would spit the soft, pink remnant of Jaina’s tongue into the snow, watching the freshly severed nerves quiver in ithe white flakes while bringing up an arm to wipe the blood from her lips. “You can release the shield, Shalindra. I somehow doubt our innocent little mage will be casting spells again any time soon. Let’s go.”
- Finally got it done. Really fun to write, particularly since I haven’t actually written a fanfic in 7 or so years. Feel free to criticize and review as you’d like, as this idea was merely something birthed from a role play of ‘favorable slavery’ between Arthas and Sylvanas that my husband and I been playing with. For Your Viewing Pleasure, -J.O.C
