Horrors of Warcraft

This chapter contains: NC, M/F, Mdom, Fdom, Torture, mutilation, semi-snuff, and necro-bestiality(seriously). If any sex story will offend you it will probably be this one. Don't bitch to me about it if it does.

Horrors of Warcraft: Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing


The dust of Durotar suddenly stung Az’mika’s face as the sound of the raptor’s footsteps changed from the thumping of flesh on dirt to the clacking of talons on wood. All day she’d scoured The Barrens for any word of the traitor who had assassinated the chief of the Razor Hill enforcers, and had made absolutely no progress. By now her back and thighs ached from the jolting strides of the raptor underneath her, and she was covered with stale sweat from the day’s riding; she could smell it faintly, through her chain armor.

As the raptor stepped off the bridge leading from The Barrens to Durotar, she yanked hard on the reins. The raptor pulled to a sudden stop, and riding her momentum she slipped from its back and agilely landed on her feet, thrilling in the chance to stretch aching muscles.

The Durotar air was red and dusty, almost stifling. The light had a hazy quality, somewhat brighter in the direction of The Barrens. It was almost completely silent except for the sound of the river, and of the troll’s and the raptor’s quiet, steady breathing.

Slowly and somewhat stiffly Az’Mika walked to the river and knelt down next to it. Almost reverently she cupped her hands and reached into the slowly running and slightly muddy river. She lifted up the pool of water cupped between her palms and brought it to her face, drinking deeply, heedless of the water that ran down her chin and onto her chest, trickling through her armor, between her breasts, and down her body.

She repeated this ritual, and did so again. Finally, when her thirst was sated, she rubbed water on her face and in her wild and spiky pinkish hair. She leaned back and sat there a while, staring at the ghostly outline of the sun. Her left hand reached into a pouch by her side and gently stroked the prize she had taken last night- a smooth pink nub, cut last night from the cunt of a human.

Gently she stroked it, and imagined how it would have felt for the woman if she had stroked it thus when it was still attached, while she was still alive. Az’Mika wondered how it must have felt for her that night, when the woman had been raped and mutilated. Absentmindedly, contemplatively, her right hand pressed into her belly as her left stroked the severed organ, large fingers digging into her mail-clad abdomen.

She was startled out of her revery by a flash of green against the tan and brown backdrop of The Barrens. Peering at the small figure, she saw an orc walking the Barrens path towards Durotar. Something was strange about its movement, its proportions, but she couldn’t say what it was. Regardless, she’d had plenty enough of speaking to the uneducated orcs and trolls of The Barrens for one day. Quickly she stood up, droplets of water falling into the dirt around her. Her sudden movement startled her raptor which, though it had been standing idle, had been ogling another Durotar raptor which was feeding on a mangled boar nearby. Az’Mika wasn’t certain whether it was wanted the raptor or its meal, but she saw with disgust that its penis was engorged and hung down beneath it, large and black. Swallowing her distaste, she grabbed the reins and hopped onto the raptor; though it gave a mewling squeal of complain as her substantial weight landed upon its back.

For a moment longer Az’Mika stared back at the orc, trying to pinpoint what it was about it that seemed so odd. Hesitantly, she waved at the orc. For a moment the orc kept walking in its peculiar gait, and waved its own hello back. She decided that it probably wasn’t anything to worry about and jerked on the reins again (her mount had started sniffing at the nearby raptor’s feast once more). With a little shriek of complaint, the raptor began to thud its way down the hard, dirt-packed road.

They made it seven paces before the arrow thudded into the raptor’s neck. As though in slow motion Az’Mika felt the beast collapse under her, but even as she felt it happen she couldn’t move fast enough. As the raptor collapsed Az’Mika fell, and as she fell she saw a rock in her path. All she felt was an impact; then, darkness.


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Aenslar paced around and considered his prize. He wasn’t sure whether she’d been able to see what he was from that distance, but if she had realized then he absolutely could not let her escape- if she brought word of his presence to Razor Hill then there was no chance he could ever make it out of Horde territory alive. He’d barely escaped from their outpost in the barrens, and he’d had had to ride his mount to death to get away from them. His heels clicked against the packed dirt of Durotar as he paced around Az’Mika’s unconscious form. Behind him he could hear the raptor’s claws skittering against the earth as it bled out the throat, twitching and dying.

All in all she seemed like quite a catch. She was almost pretty for a beast, with sharply defined but attractive features. He hair was pink, but matted black and red with blood on one side where she’d hit a rock as she’d fallen from her mount. Her chain armor was heavy, but he could see her form through it. She was tall, like all trolls; even taller than Aenslar himself, and he was considered a large man among humans. Her peculiar three toed hands and two toed feet were somewhat off-putting, as were her tusks, but at least one of those could be taken care of.

Aenslar grinned to himself. Today was going to be an excellent day..


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Az’Mika woke up with a start. Everything was blurry but she could see the silhouette of someone above her highlighted against the sun of Durotar.

“Wh-who are-“ was as far as she got before something warm and wet poured over her face and into her mouth, sending her into a series of sputtering coughs. At first she wasn’t certain why she couldn’t shield herself from this warm rain with her arms, but realized after several seconds that her hands had been tied roughly behind her. At the same time as she came to understand her immobility and the dull ache in her hands she realized two more things: One, that except for her bonds she was completely naked, and two, that the warm wetness showering on her face was urine.

Knowing the nature of the liquid, Az’Mika tried to shelter her face from it under her shoulder. Though she achieved some success, she could still taste the unpleasant tang of it in her mouth, and her eyelids felt sticky. Eventually the torrent stopped, leaving her in a small puddle of filthy mud. Still dazed, her face sticky and dirty, she looked up at the silhouette. Peering, she saw a harsh bearded face grinning down at her; a human face. Not only that…

Now she knew why that orc had seemed so peculiar. It hadn’t been an orc at all, but this man, wearing green skins taken from orcs; and, judging from the number of different skin tones there, he had taken these skins from many different orcs. Looking behind him, she saw the still corpse of her raptor, and next to it a bundle of skins. Some of them were blue and some were green, others were covered in coarse hair; most likely tauren skins, she groggily surmised.

Angrily the man grabbed Az’Mika’s wet hair and pulled her face up to look at him. She stared defiantly at him, determined not to show any of the terror she was feeling. He slapped her face once, hard. A tiny amount of blood spattered in the dirt, beside her as her lip split. Her teeth felt loose in her head, and the dizziness she’d felt right after awakening had returned. She started to look back up at him, but her attention was suddenly arrested by an odd and wrinkled necklace he was wearing. Slowly, she realized what she was looking at; hanging on a thin strip of blue leather were several fragments of flesh. Each of them, she saw, was a mangled piece of cunt, dried and turned into a grim decoration.


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Aenlsar grinned again, wider, overjoyed by his extravagant cruelty. So, he thought, she noticed the necklace. Where’s your defiance now, bitch?

Holding her up by the hair, he kicked her once in the stomach, hard. A muffled squeak escaped, and she curled up slightly. She seemed to be having trouble breathing, which was exactly what he’d intended. While the troll was still recovering, he sat on her back, just above her ass, and swiftly cut through the bonds holding her hands together. She flailed weakly back at him, but between the head injury, her disadvantageous position, and the recent gut blow her struggles were completely ineffectual. Leaning forward, Aenslar grabbed her left hand and pulled it to her side, as far away from her body as it would go, sliding forward as he did so and sitting on her elbow. Before she had any idea what he was doing, he pulled the hunting knife out of his belt and slammed it to the back of her left hand, spearing it to the densely packed red dirt underneath them. She bellowed in agony, and started to reach for her left hand with her right; Aenslar caught her right hand and roughly pulled it away, far out to her right side. She grunted as the movement forced her to move her other arm, grating the knife against the bones in her left hand, then screamed again as Aenslar tacked her other hand to the ground using one of the arrows from his quiver.

Standing back, Aenslar admired his handiwork. With both of her hands nailed to the ground like this, the bitch had no way to get the leverage necessary to pull one of them out. As she growled and whined in pain, her bound legs thrashed up and down, making her look a little bit like a beached fish. Aenslar couldn’t help but laugh, although his cock was pressing urgently against his pants. Eventually her thrashing died down and she just lay there, tears running down her face and into the cracks of the dry red earth, the blood pooling under her speared palms and staining the red soil crimson. Her hands being nailed down forced her breasts into the dirt, causing them to bulge up underneath her in what Aenslar though a very alluring fashion.

Slowly he walked up to her prone, sobbing form. Grabbing a dagger from her equipment, which he’d set aside earlier, he leaned in and placed the edge against her pussy, along the clitoris. From here he could clearly smell the sour stench of her sweat, and even the slightly fishy smell of her cunt. She really is a disgusting beast, he thought, though his cock raged ever harder. She felt the cold blade graze her flesh and shrieked a little, shying away from it. But however much she tried to inch away from the blade, it followed her, riding her tender flesh as her ass inched higher and higher in an attempt to escape the threat. Finally, she’d gone as high as she could go- her ass was thrust high above her head in the air, her being unable to raise her head any more than a couple of inches off of the ground. She held that position for a minute, quivering, then sighed in relief as the touch of the blade disappeared. Aenslar roughly shoved a couple of fingers into her cunt and his thumb into her ass; she gasped at the intrusion, then screamed once more as the knife that had been threatening her pussy slammed into the sole of her right foot, nailing it to the dirt.

Aenslar felt giddy. He caressed his cock through his trousers, and pulled out his next toy.


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Az’Mika’s hands and feet were on fire. Every other sensation seemed muted next to that agony, and every twitch caused her hands and feet to twinge in pain. She’d been wounded before in battle, but nothing had ever hurt like this. It wasn’t just that the wounds were more painful (though they were), but every time she had been cut or hit in a fight she had been active, empowered, able to fight back. She had never felt as helpless as she did now.

However, even as she felt terrified and cried in pain, she felt a familiar ball of rage in her gut, the same rage that had been her partner, her comrade, in more battles than she could count. More than anything else the rage screamed at her to turn around and rip the bastard’s throat out, but every time she tried to move, to twist back around at him, the wrenching pain in her limbs checked her.

She’d tuned out for a moment, contemplating her rage and wishing for vengeance, but she snapped back to reality as one heavy green boot stepped in front of her face, kicking dirt up and irritating her eyes. The human squatted down in front of her so she could see his face, with that infuriating grin of his. Slowly, he pulled something out and dangled it in front of her face (if he moved his hands just a little closer I could bite them…) It was long and black, a wad of leather shaped into the form of a large phallus. For some reason it was rough around the edges, looking as though it was simply severed off of a large beast-

That’s when she made the connection. This wasn’t just leather shaped like a penis; this was her raptor’s severed cock the human dangled in front of her, bound with leather cord to keep it erect. The smell of it was terrible, almost like a rotting corpse in its awfulness. Evidently, though, he’d been waiting for that look of comprehension, because as soon as she recognized it he pulled it out of her sight, stood up, and walked away.

Az’mika felt the human’s hands pawing at her ass-cheeks, spreading them apart. She felt the overlarge prick nudging up against her virgin asshole (most of the men she’d been with had been more than satisfied to do things the normal way), and wriggled briefly against the steel and wood nailing her to the dirt before the pain forced her to stop. For a little while the raptor’s prick settled there, lined up perfectly with her anus, nuzzled between her cheeks, and in that moment she noticed that it was still warm from the raptor’s exhausted life force.

She heard the human’s grunt of effort a moment before she felt the tearing, violating pain. Although on a certain level it was just another entry in her catalogue of agonies, the violation still forced a piercing scream out of her, as she writhed as much as she was able against the bonds of her own flesh.


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Aenslar’s cheeks hurt, he could not wipe the manic grin off of his face. Taking a deep breath, he pulled back and put his entire weight back on the trophy he had cut from the troll’s mount, forcing it deeper inside her. Blood from her ravaged sphincter ran down the length of raptor cock not yet buried in her bowels and down his arm, dripping down off his elbow and into the dry dirt. Though she’d quieted down somewhat after the initial violation, he could tell from the tension in her body that she was still conscious, and she grunted each time he drove his weight back behind the severed dick and rammed it another inch or two into her ass.

He was having trouble getting much depth out of it now. Only halfway in, he was meeting difficulty in forcing the cock any further. Standing up, He stomped on the violating prick as hard as he could, putting his entire weight into it. The pitiful troll woman gave a quavering sigh, a scream with no soul behind it, as the wide shaft sunk in several inches deeper, almost all the way in. She finally lost bladder control, and the irregular spatters of her piss raised small clouds of dust under her quivering belly. Dark red blood trickled from the remains of her violated ass, down her blue skin, tracing her muscular and sweaty thighs, pooling at her knees.

Gingerly Aenslar grabbed at the base of the raptor’s prick and pulled at it. It felt strange that the piece of meat he’d worked so hard to force into her intestines came out so easily, but it was clear why. As he pulled it out, a torrent of blood soaked shit came out and stained the ground between her legs. The troll’s sphincter had been destroyed to the point where she could do nothing to stop the river of wet shit and blood that flowed out of her. The smell was, of course, terrible, but Aenslar had done this before and he knew the hazards.

Aenslar walked over to the other side to look at the troll’s face and see how his captive was doing now. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was regular- she seemed to be unconscious. That wouldn’t do at all. Squatting down, he grabbed the woman’s sticky pink hair and pulled her head from the dirt. No reaction. Her mouth was slack, gaping open, and he could see her long and pointed blueish grey tongue inside. Gently, he reached in with two fingers and pulled her warm, wet tongue out. It was a delicate operation, but somehow with just two hands he managed to keep her tongue outside her mouth while simultaneously picking up the fetid raptor cock and sliding it deep into her mouth. Though she spasmed as it touched the back of her throat, somehow she didn’t throw up, though he imagined that was probably in the cards once she woke up to the taste.

Carefully he held her head down and reached back behind him, pulling another arrow from his quiver. Swiftly, precisely, he slammed this one down into the filthy phallus, driving the sharp metal head through it and the unconscious troll’s tongue into the dirt before her face. A quiet sleeping moan, muffled by the impromptu gag, shuddered out of her at this new attack; but she did not wake up.

His preparations complete, Aenslar reached into a small pouch by his side and pulled out a couple of leaves, small and speckled grey. Holding them in front of her face, he crumbled them. From where he was he could faintly smell the pungent aroma and feel the energy fill him. These leaves were a potent stimulant, and could keep someone awake and aware for hours. He made sure to carry them on him, for situations just such as this.

For a while he looked at her, wondering if they had worked, or perhaps if she’d died on him without him noticing. But no, she was still alive, her slender belly still rose and fell, even in the awkward position she’d been forced into. Besides, he hadn’t done anything yet that should kill her so soon. Finally, after he waited for what seemed like an eternity, her yellow eyes snapped open.

The progression was exquisite. First she saw him squatting there in front of her, and an expression of complete rage covered her face, her eyes burning with a dark inner fire. Then the pain hit again, her eyebrows knit together and her eyes watered as the terrible pain in her limbs, being added to by the ravaging of her rectal muscles and violation of her tongue, roughly intruded upon her rage. Finally, she tasted the rancid combination of unwashed raptor cock and her own wet shit and blood.

Now the troll bitch started to writhe in earnest. She tried to bite at the violating prick only to find that her own tongue was in the way, and she couldn’t attack the filthy gag without mutilating herself. She pulled her head back and forth trying to escape, but made no headway, and with each twitch she gave off a little agonized gurgle. While all this was going on, Aenslar idly walked behind her, undoing the laces of his leather pants and finally letting his stiff cock free. While the troll was in her own little world of agony, tasting things more vile and feeling pain more eloquent than any she had ever imagined, Aenslar snuck up behind her and, heedless of the mess her ruptured bowels had made of her back and thighs, grabbed her ass and pulled her against him, hammering his cock against her entrance.

Such were her other troubles that she barely seemed to notice as he roughly raped her cunt, and though at first she was completely dry inside his cruel attentions soon lubricated her entrance with blood. He pounded into her, the wet squishy slaps of his skin against hers almost drowning out her agonized cock-gagged gurgling. Over the top of her head, he could just barely see the yellowish strings of vomit dripping down the sides of her mouth and out of her nose. He could hear her tortured breath being forced through clogged air passages. Thrilling in the utter violation of his victim, he pulled her close and slammed his entire length into her, and as his cock twitched in her bloodied cunt he pulled out the dagger nailing her foot to the ground, and as he spasmed and shot his thick white seed into her he pulled out, reached under her, and slammed the knife upwards, low into her belly, just above her cunt. Hoping he hit an internal reproductive organ or two, Aenslar haltingly pulled the knife towards him as he blew his load all over her ass. The contrast of the pearly white semen on her chalky blue skin, accented by the blood still thickly trickling from her ravaged ass, was striking. The knife came smoothly, clicking once or twice against her pelvic bones but ultimately continuing on its path. Finally he pulled it free through her cunt, neatly severing her clit in two as he did so.

He stood back for a second and looked at her utterly still body. His cock was still semi-erect and soaked in blood, and his entire front was soaked in the vile mixture that was leaking from her bowels. He circled back around to look at her face.

Her yellow eyes stared off at some point in the distance. Her mouth was slack now, but at some point during the last exchange she had bitten the raptor-cock gag in two. Her tongue was still impaled on the arrow, neatly severed by her teeth. She didn’t seem to be breathing at all. The plains of Durotar were completely silent but for the sounds of Aenslar’s panting breath and the troll’s blood thickly spattering the ground, dropping out in semi-clotted dark clumps from her gaping and brutalized orifices.

With a deep sigh of satisfaction, Aenslar pulled the arrow out of the ground, with the raptor cock and her tongue still impaled on it. Gently, he pulled the dried grey bit of muscle off the wood and tossed it away with the remnant of penis still impaled.. Pulling the dead troll’s tongue against his cock, he stroked himself rapidly, enjoying the raspy feel of it. Finally, jerkily, he came again, spewing semen into the troll’s face, into her unblinking eyes and slack, tongue-less mouth.

Aenslar sighed, deeply satisfied. He stood up and walked towards the river- he was an utter mess from the day’s festivities. Casually, as he walked by, he dropped the troll’s tongue into her gaping anal cavity. There it floated in a pool of blood, blue grey in a sea of red.


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The world throbbed.

This party had started.

A flash of awareness. Terrible pain, terrible taste, terrible memories. But things were about to get a lot better, she could tell.

Behind her, she heard a man singing. The voice was wonderfully familiar. She smiled, then for a second was dismayed to notice that there seemed to be something missing. No, it doesn’t matter. It would all be fixed with time.

She started to get up, but quickly ran into a snag. Both of her hands seemed to be nailed down. Why was that? No matter. Grinning, she flexed her right and, and the flimsy arrow holding it in place snapped in two. Bringing the remnant of the shaft up to her face, she grabbed it with her teeth and pulled it out. For a moment she lay there and held her right and in front of her face, flexing the large fingers and watching as the skin knit itself before her eyes. It tingled as the wound closed, and she could feel the same tingling sensation between her legs and in her mouth. Slowly, now that her right hand was free, she grabbed at the handle to the dagger pinning her left to the ground and yanked it out.

Now both of her hands were free. She stood up, relishing the feel of motion. As she came to her feet, blood spattered the ground, falling from between her legs thick, black, and clotted. As she stood in the dusty red air, she felt the skin knit even as the filthy blood dripped out and soaked the ground beneath her. She looked towards the direction she could still hear singing from. There he was, naked, washing himself in the river. His back was to her. Excellent.

Step by step, on aching muscles, she walked towards him, leaving a black red trail of feces and thickened blood. He had no idea she was there. Until, by chance, he turned around and saw her. By then it was too late.

He dived towards his bow, but in one long leap she was there, behind him, grabbing his hair, pulling him back. His dick was flapping in the air, exposed, vulnerable. He certainly had not expected this.

Swiftly, she brought his face down into her knee. His nose shattered, adding his own blood to the massive amount of her own that already soaked her legs. She threw him down onto his ass and sat on him, punching him twice in the face to keep him quiet. He grunted with each blow, but his face was still a mask of feral rage, and he spit at her face as she held him down.

Roughly, angrily, she flipped him over and started pawing at his ass with her large hands. Roughly, she forced one large finger into him then another, grinning with vicious joy as he grunted uncomfortably at the invasion. Forcefully she hammered at his ass with her fingers until she had them in up to her thumb. Laughing hoarsely, she wedged her thumb in as well, and brutally shoved her entire fist into his ass. As her arm, stained in shit and blood, pistoned out of him she noted with amusement that his cock was once more stiff, rubbing up against the earth underneath him. He screamed and cried under her rough ministrations, but she could feel the tension building, and as she pumped in and out she leaned forward until she could smell the awful odor of his brutalized shithole. As the beast screamed and bucked under her, as his orgasm became imminent, she sucked his testicles into her mouth and bit down as hard as she could.

Now he was screaming in earnest, tears running down his face, realizing now what he had lost. His dick was soft again, flaccid in its utter defeat. The troll spat his scrotum out into her hand, and speculatively picked the white organs out of the sac, plucking one out and popping it into her mouth. Standing up, she roughly kicked his limp body over and sat down on his chest again, her gaping cavities trailing blood all over even as they gradually pulled themselves back together.

Leaning over, she kissed him hard, and gently pushed his severed ball into his mouth. When he tried to spit it back out, she covered his mouth with her hand and stared into his eyes. Though he tried to writhe away from her, she was immovable. Finally he submitted to her will, though he didn’t know why, and bit down. She savoured the expression on his face as he crushed his testicle between his teeth, committing to his mutilation. As he tasted the odd, organic taste of himself, she stood up and held his other ball up in the air. Reaching down and grabbing one of his feet she spread his legs apart, and once more forced her hand up his ass, this time depositing his other testicle there, far up inside..

As she pulled her hand out of his ass with a pop, she grabbed the knife she’d discarded earlier. In one swift motion she pulled his flaccid dick out and severed it from his body. Still holding it and the knife, she slowly walked away, leaving Aenslar there, breathing, sterilized, violated, staring up into the sky as day turned into night.


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“There’s been an incident. Our sleeper agent has been activated much sooner than we had intended.”

“I had told you that this plan would not work. I had said that this was unwise, and had told you that she was a liability. If they have seen us tip our hand then our goals will be set back many years. I tell you now that if this error is not eliminated then you will be consumed. I had been right then and I am being right now.”

“You can’t blame this on me, this wasn’t solely my idea. This sounds more like a project design flaw then anything that can be blamed on management. I think this whole situation is most clearly not my fault”

“I am telling you that this does not matter. You are the one who has claimed this idea and who has backed it, and if it fails then you are the one who will be blamed. I tell you now that you must fix this, and I honestly recommend you do so as good faith advice. If you are the one responsible for tipping our hand and alerting the Horde to our presence I say that you know you will be the next sacrifice.”

“… Then I suppose I had better go, hadn’t I?”

“I would say so.”