Savage World

“May the Light always shield and protect you.”
The priestess briefly closed her eyes as she channeled the warm embrace of healing magic. The soft glow manifested in her smooth palm, forming a white shine as the spell slowly seeped through her hands and into the injured feline. A soft, gentle smile spread across her lips as she opened her eyes, brilliant emerald orbs lovingly cast upon the injured animal. Her silky fingertips ran along the cat’s fur, down its sleek body, soothing the injured animal as it mewled.

Her long, slender legs, hidden beneath her priestess robes, lay casually on the boardwalk. She lay spread out as she hugged the animal tightly, pleased she was able to save the feline from the abuse it had suffered as a stray in the merciless hubbub of Booty Bay. Long, silky strands of golden blonde hair framed her brilliant green eyes. The loving, gentle expression on her face was unlike the typical haughty, arrogant attitude of most Sin’dorei. She had a beaming smile, as if a shining halo engulfed her when her pretty red lips parted in approval.

The priestess rose to her feet, her soft, feminine curves apparent underneath the thin white fabric of her dress. Even though the priestess garments defended her modesty, there was no mistaking the swell of soft, perfectly formed breasts that filled a handful, or the curve of her hips giving way into her firm, luscious rear as the fabric washed over her smooth, toned body. She was a small and delicate thing, even for Sin’dorei standards; she stood as tall as an average man, but her body betrayed the fact she was not born or bred for battle, but for a cloistered life in the care and service of others.

Priestess Sylana was positively radiant on a beautiful Booty Bay morning. Stroking the animal’s head, she turned to face the rising sun cast across the shimmering waters of the harbor. She could see the statue with the outstretched arms in the distance, a beacon of hope and embrace for all that braved the harsh wilds of Stranglethorn.

Walking along the seaside boardwalk, she could see the stirrings of life as the harbor town slowly awoke from its drunken slumber.

“Hello, Vixxyl.” Sylana’s smile charmed the grizzled goblin bruiser’s heart, the goblin unable to return a ridiculous-looking grin in return.
“Good morning to you too, priestess. Have any trouble yet, today?”
Sylana chuckled softly, giggling a bit at the way the goblin always tried to flirt with her. “No, but I know who to come to if I find any.” With a wave, Sylana bade her goodbye as the bruiser marched toward the tavern to rout the rabble. Sylana chanted an ancient hymn as she blessed the bruiser with a gift of fortitude, smiling as she watched him leave.

Walking to the mailbox, Sylana was delighted to find a small, ashen envelope closed with a wax seal. “News from Sister Whitewind!” Sylana couldn’t resist a bright grin as she eagerly broke the wax seal, devouring the contents on the aged parchment.


“Sister Dawnrunner, I bring tidings to you from Stormwind’s Grand Cathedral. I hope the Light finds you well. I have heard rumors of your limitless generosity and charity from travelers from Booty Bay. I am glad we have sent our most loved Sister to bring the news of the Light to such a depraved town. I remind you that you must guard yourself carefully, Sister. Booty Bay is a dangerous place, and there are those who would not take kindly to our order. In particular, I advise against growing too close to any habitants there. May you always walk in the Light,
Sister Whitewind
Priestess of the Order of the Unified Light”

A chill slivered down Sylana’s spine. Sister Whitewind had always been such an upbeat and optimistic sister; why would she send such a grim letter? Last they had talked, they discussed the cheery summer Azeroth weather and the bountiful harvest in Westfall!

Sylana walked with the letter in hand, a troubled expression on her face seeming like a single dark cloud on a magnificent, cloudless day. Then, Sylana felt a tap on her shoulder. Frightened, Sylana whipped around, before catching herself.
“Whew.” She breathed a sigh of relief. A bright smile returned to her soft, full lips. “Beazly! You scared me.”
The haggard looking sailor returned a toothy grin to the priestess, his hand idly lingering on her shoulder.
“Miss Dawnrunner, jus’ be wanting your blessing ‘fore we head out to Stormwind today.”
“Of course! How could I refuse a charming young man like you?” Sylana closed her eyes as she chanted the familiar hymn, casting a gift of fortitude on the scraggly sailor’s musculature dotted with scars across the chest. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Beazly?”

There was a troubled look in the pirate’s eyes, a brief flash of uncertainty. “A new sailors joined our crew, see, and he don’t believe a respectable priestess like your loveliness would grace a city like this.” Beazly looked away as he spoke nervously. “I was jus’ hoping maybe you could meet him and talk some sense into him?”

Sylana laid a hand on Beazly’s shoulder and spoke in a reassuring tone. “Lead me to him.”

Sylana’s simple shoes strode silently along the creaky boards, as Beazly led her deeper and deeper into the labyrinths of tin roofs and shanties. Sylana was beginning to worry as she had never ventured this deep into the darker side of the city. Finally, Beazly led her to a darkened alleyway, a dead end. There was nothing save for refuse heaped on refuse, walls caved in on other side. Sylana looked quizzically at him.

He only had a shrug in reply. “Sorry.”

Sylana squealed as a powerful hand grabbed her from behind, her body pressed against a hard musculature as an unyielding hand stuffed a heavy rag against her mouth. The delicate Sin’dorei priestess thrashed and struggled instinctively against his grasp, bucking as her eyes had a wild, frazzled look. Her pleading eyes screamed to Beazly for help, but he had turned his back.

Realization had no set in yet as Sylana struggled like a mad woman with a strength unknown for her size, but it was futile against the stronger man. Overpowered, the priestess was forced against the dirty tin wall, tears welling in her shining green eyes as her face was forced against the rusty metal. Her cheeks chafed against the metal as the man shoved his bodyweight against her. She screamed and wailed with all the force in her small lungs, but it came out only as a muffled, pathetic cry in his hand. “Hnnngghh!!” Her muffled cries had no semblance of the music quality of her voice; there was only terror and panic now.

The tears flowed down her cheeks in earnest as she finally realized what was happening. She thrashed like a cornered beast, jerking her arm to and fro in his grasp, before they were painfully cranked behind her back. Her mouth opened as wide as they could in a pained cry as the man forcefully restrained her arms. “HHHNNNNGGHH!!!” There was not an inkling of mercy in the man’s methods as he wrapped a rope tightly around the priestess’s wrists, the fibers painfully digging into her smooth skin. Sylana shook her head violently, trying to deny what was happening, begging and sobbing for mercy.

Sylana crumpled to the ground like a ragdoll as a fist smashed across her cheek, her thrashing stopped. Never before in her life had she been struck, and her head swam dizzily. She could feel herself being hoisted up, thrown across strong, powerful shoulders. She could feel her head bobbing up and down as she was carried, the tears streaking up into her golden blonde hair as she was carried like a sack of grain. The last she could remember was being thrown into a rough holding cell in a rickety wooden ship, the snicker of goblins in the vessel as they discussed her fate…


Sylana awoke to the sight of a cold, stone ceiling. She looked around, finding herself in a small, dank cell strewn with straw and manacles. She looked down at her hands, finding them bloodied, dried blood in her finger nails. Rope marks criss crossed her wrist, arm, and body, and an aching sensation pulsed through her cheeks and stomach. She was still dressed in her robes, thank the Light.

“Hello, Sylana.”

Her head whipped around, her emerald eyes settling on an unnerving figure. He was sitting on a small wooden chair backwards, his arms resting on the backrest as he studied her intently.

“You put up quite a fight getting here, Sylana. I didn’t expect such violence from one of your Order.” His voice was even, as if this were perfectly normal. “In fact, I had to make sure to pay them extra or they threatened to take their revenge on you right then and there.” He smiled. “I have to preserve your modesty, don’t I, priestess?”

Her eyes shook in trepidation as he rose to his feet, lording over bruised body.

“T-This is w-wrong.” Her voice quivered. “Let me go! Please!”

The man crouched down, his fingers gently pushing her chin up to meet him eye to eye. He was a striking man, a tall, powerfully built man, no doubt a noble. He had piercing brown eyes and short brown hair, but there was a malicious glint in his eyes.
“No, no, no, Sylana…” A wicked smile creeped across his lips. “I have plans for such a generous priestess such as you. You have something I want.”

“No, what could I have that you could possi—“ Sylana’s eyes widened and froze as realization slowly set in. Her thighs trembled as she tried to crawl as far away from the man as she can. Her eyes watered again, sobbing uncontrollably.
“No! Please! No!” Her voice was soft and meek, sheer terror manifested in her voice.
The human advanced on her, walking slowly and with purpose, delighted as he watched the Sin’dorei girl crawl backwards until she had her back pressed against the cold, unyielding stone wall. Her fingers clutched at the stray clumps of straw, before she raised her arms, desperately trying to cover herself up, wish herself away.

Sylana closed her eyes as she felt her flimsy dressed tearing at the seams, her body curled up into a ball as the human’s powerful hands viciously tore at the her airy dress. Her tears mixed with the dirt and grime on her face as she bawled.
“No, no… no, no…” She weeped as his hand wrapped around her frail wrist, pulling her hand away.

“NO!”

Sylana screamed with a sudden burst of strength, pushing back against the man. He was instantly upon her, his powerful body above hers, wrestling her against the floor.

She screamed her voice hoarse as her muscles pushed against his, straining with visible effort. It seemed he barely exerted any effort to subdue her, her strongest thrashing and struggling seemed only to excite him further, to make the wicked smile on his lips even wider. She bucked against him, futilely beating her small hands against his chest, her legs kicking and thrashing wildly. It was to no avail; her assailant’s body was between her thighs now, leaning over her, breathing hotly against her cheek.

“Nooooo!”

She cried in vain as he hiked up the remnants of her torn dress, revealing her smooth silk panties. Sylana clenched her eyes tightly when he pulled a thick, rapidly stiffening erection out from his trousers. The tears found their way through her closed eyes, wettening her eye lashes as she felt her panties being jerked to the side, revealing her smooth, dry pink hole.

“N-noo… please…”

With one sudden, violent movement, he buried himself deep inside the Sin’dorei priestess. She responded the way all female elves must. Sylana’s high-pitched scream reverberated through the underground cell as he pierced past her hymen, defiling the virgin priestess in one merciless stroke.

“HHHHHHHHHNNNGGHHH!!”

Her body collapsed and went limp as he speared into her, her resistance shattered as her body trembled, trying to cope with the trauma of being savagely raped. She threw her head side to side, whimpering as if it were a feverish cold. He slowly pulled out of the elf, before sheathing himself again to the hilt inside of her tight little body.

“AHHHHHH!”

Her screams were only interrupted by a brief, sharp, and involuntary intake of air as he impaled her body. His hands brushed aside the rags of her dress, feeling her smooth, toned complexion as he buried himself inside of her.

“Mmm, filthy little whore.” He grunted in exertion as he forced himself inside her tight canal, groaning as he fought for every inch inside of her. Each and every last inch of his cockmeat buried inside of her dry inner walls, every last bump and ridge on his thick, meaty shaft chafing into the elf girl.

Sylana might have passed out if it were not for the iron grip of the man’s fingers around her neck, denying her breath as he choked her, grabbing onto her neck for leverage as he shoved himself inside of her, used her body mercilessly. She whimpered pitifully as he began forcing his brutal rhythm into her, extracting his exquisite pleasure from her agonizing pain. Her eyes flickered down to her battered pussy, being torn apart by the massive blunt mass of his shaft, his bulbous cockhead splitting her apart as it burrowed deep inside of her. She quickly looked away, every second seemed like an hour as pain rippled through her body. Sylana could feel him speeding up inside of her, his strokes gliding against her the blood in her cunt. She gripped him like a glove, however involuntary, her inexperienced muscles desperately trying to expel the cock, only keeping it further tight inside of her.

“P-please.. s-ss-stop… it hurts… it h-hurts so bad…”

To her horror, her begging only encouraged him, his pace quickening as his hands held her wrists pinned to the ground, his hips lewdly grinding into hers, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room, mixing with her cries.

She tried thinking of something else, anything to keep her mind away from the man savagely forcing himself in her. She was no longer a virgin. That was her first thought. Light, it was an understatement. Every part of her ached like never before. She was beyond the capacity to rationalize now, just passed the brink of sanity, lost in the throbbing, quivering intensity of her ravaging, her body responding to his with a milking, squeezing reflex, urging and insistent on fulfilling nature’s most important instinct, being controlled by her most basic instincts.

Sylana watched through a haze as sweat formed on his brow, his expression grimaced with urgent need before a look of relief washed over him.
“Enjoy this you filthy little --- ohhhghh…”

She felt him deep - pressing so far into her, her tight well wrapped around his shaft to grind the soft petals of her nether lips into the furrow of coarse hair of him. She felt him begin a slow throbbing that quickly built in speed and urgency, the crown of him, buried so, so deep, expanding in waves of pulsing pressure. She felt the shaft itself dilate as if in slow motion, swelling to an even greater girth, stretching her even farther.

And then she felt him explode. Searing her insides with liquid heat as he spilled his seed deep into her womb. Painting her insides a milky white, he pumped load after load of his virile nectar into well-fucked pussy, dumping the contents of his ballsack into her bruised and battered hole. Sylana quivered once or twice as she felt the hot fluids dripping into her, filling her violated hole to the brim.

He unceremoniously pulled out of her, wiping his softening cock off in her disheveled golden hair. He admired his handiwork as he watched her curl into a ball on her side, crying and whimpering pitifully. “Dog.” He dug his heel into her back, pressing her down into the grimy dungeon floor.

He opened the door and exited, locking the cell door behind him.