The Fall of the Priestess

This post was last edited by s175366 on 2015-9-9 17:16.
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1. A
thick black fog shrouded Darnassus. Tyrande, the leader of the Night Elves, was praying to the Moon Goddess Elune for her suffering people and the world. Terrible news had been constantly arriving from Hyjal, the burial ground of the demon general Archimonde. Everything foreshadowed the return of the nightmare that had nearly brought Azeroth to the brink of destruction—the Burning Legion.
"Lady Tyrande, I apologize for disturbing you." Appearing before the priestess was Shandris Feathermoon, an officer of the Night Elf Sentinel Force and a beautiful female archer. "Hyjal? Worse news has arrived. The new shoots of Nordrassil are being corrupted by the black mist. High Druid Staghelm of the Cenarion Circle says he is powerless and requests your presence in Hyjal. Only you can use the power of the goddess Elune to completely eradicate the demon."
"Very well, I'll depart tomorrow," Priestess Tyrande said thoughtfully…
"That Staghelm, that big-mouthed fool, is utterly useless in a pinch. If only he were still here." Thinking this, the priestess blushed slightly.
Accompanied by several high-ranking members of the Sisterhood of the Moon, Tyrande rode her beloved white tiger to the once sacred mountain of Hyjal. After a three-day journey, she finally arrived at her destination that night. Gazing at the familiar sight, the priestess Archimonde's death not only destroyed Nordrassil but also left a terrible scar on the land. Although dozens of ancient trees still stand tall, they can never regain the beauty and splendor of Hyjal in its heyday. Archimonde's remains still keep company with the tender shoots of the World Tree. Tyrande clearly sensed the lingering darkness emanating from the bones. "Let Elune cleanse this ancient evil completely," Tyrande prayed sincerely. The moon goddess seemed to hear her devout prayer at the Sacred Tree of Hyjal.
Just then, a dark vortex suddenly appeared beneath the priestess's feet, like a terrifying maw that swiftly swallowed the unsuspecting priestess. "Lady Tyrande!" the accompanying moon goddess cried out in alarm, but it was too late. She didn't notice the demon guards wielding axes approaching them…
"Where am I…?" Tyrande, who had been unconscious for a long time, finally awoke. Her eyes, adjusted to the darkness, could only see a deep, blood-red hue… All around her were closed doors… She realized she was imprisoned. Although she didn't know who controlled this place, she knew she was its prisoner.
The door suddenly opened, and a crimson light pierced her eyes. After her eyes adjusted, she saw a tall witch, a head taller than the tallest male of the night, with a bewitching beauty and eyes that shone with azure light. The horns on her head, bat-like wings, and hooves clearly revealed her demonic identity. A terrifying whip was tied at her waist. Without a doubt, this was a high-ranking succubus.
"Welcome, Priestess Tyrande. Please call me Lady Herlin."
"You... captured me and brought me here?"
The priestess, still lying on the ground, asked weakly. "I was only acting on my master's orders." The witch's azure eyes gazed at Tyrande's disheveled state, a wicked smile spreading across her face. "I know you want to know who he is. I will take you to see him now. He is an old friend of yours, who has been waiting for this day." The demon said, then gently reached out and helped Tyrande, who had no other choice, to her feet. She was led out of the cell.
Herlin led Tyrande to a small, exquisite, palace-like room. Like a prison, the entire room was a deep, blood-red hue, making the woman dizzy. "You must be hungry," Hellin said, beckoning. A smaller succubus presented the priestess with two bowls of blood-red dishes before quickly leaving. Despite their enticing aroma, Tyrande found it difficult to eat the fleshy, crimson objects. "Don't be afraid, this is a local delicacy." Despite lingering fear and doubt, hunger and the will to survive ultimately forced her to eat the food.
After the meal, Tyrande sensed an evil creature approaching. Its aura was familiar. "Could it be… no… this is impossible!"
"!" Suddenly, green flames appeared on the floor, gradually coalescing and forming a human shape… After a dazzling light, a tall demon appeared before her.
Its greenish-blue skin was encased in golden armor, clearly revealing its robust physique. Tentacle-like whiskers and eyes blazing with green flames made its face particularly striking.
"Ah... Archimonde..."
"We meet again." A powerful voice echoed in her ears, telling her this was not a nightmare. The demon who had twice nearly killed her had returned.
"Master!" Herlin knelt before her.
"Is everything prepared?" "Everything is prepared
, Your Highness."
"Very good, step back."
Herlin placed a box on the table and vanished instantly.
Archimonde sized up the beautiful priestess, his eyes gleaming with lust: "Beauty, I swore to possess you since the War of the Ancients, and this time you can't escape." With that, he removed his upper armor, roaring as he lunged at Tyrande with his massive claws.
The woman frantically tried to dodge, never in her more than ten thousand years of life so terrified. Although Archimonde's cruelty and evil were well-known, she had never imagined that a demon would harbor such wicked thoughts towards her. The incredibly powerful Archimonde seized her shoulders like an eagle snatching a chick, roughly tearing Tyrande's mooncloth robe and undergarments to shreds, revealing her naked body. Despite being over ten thousand years old, the immortality granted by Nordrassil had preserved her figure perfectly. Her smooth skin glowed with a violet sheen, her long, shapely legs, her full, shapely buttocks, and the mature allure she exuded made even the demon acknowledge that the priestess was indeed a masterpiece of the gods. The only flaw was that her breasts, while firm, were still small for a mature woman.
"Looks like this needs some work," Archimonde thought, the unique fragrance of a mature night elf woman strongly stimulating his lust. The demon opened his gaping maw and forcefully kissed Tyrande's sensual lips, his long, serpentine tongue forcing its way into her mouth. He pressed the woman's naked body tightly against his, his large hands wantonly caressing her entire body. Tyrande, who had never experienced anything like this before, struggled in vain. All she could feel was pain and the stench of the demon's mouth. Soon, the woman was utterly exhausted, struggling to breathe, letting the demon ravage her body.
After enjoying Tyrande's beautiful mouth, Archimonde withdrew his tongue from her mouth and turned to examine the woman's full, round, plump buttocks. Tyrande didn't know that Archimonde's favorite part of a woman was her buttocks.
"Stick your ass up," Archimonde coldly commanded.
The priestess could hardly believe her eyes; her body seemed to be driven by dark forces or fear. She knelt on the ground in humiliation, raising her beautiful, plump buttocks high. The demon opened the box, took out a red rope, and bound Tyrande's hands and feet. Then he took out a multi-sectioned whip and lashed it heavily across the night elf's buttocks. Ignoring the priestess's screams, he continued to lash her beautiful buttocks mercilessly, knowing that such beatings would cause only temporary pain and nothing more. Accompanied by the demon's relentless whipping, Tyrande cried out wildly and writhed in agony, creating a beautiful yet cruel spectacle.
After fifty lashes, the demon finally stopped. He put away the whip and slowly stroked the woman's scarred buttocks with his rough, large hands. Tyrande's eyes were filled with tears, her teeth clenched. She never dreamed she would suffer such humiliation and torture at the hands of a demon.
"Very good, beauty. Your ass is so beautiful, and that's why it looks even more alluring when it's being humiliated." The demon said as he spread the priestess's trembling buttocks, revealing her pink anus. He lewdly licked his fingers, moistened with his saliva, and gently poked Tyrande's anus. The priestess, whose body had never been violated before, couldn't help but let out a strange cry. "Don't worry, beauty. I always save the best for last, your anus is safe for now." Tyrande blushed with shame at his direct mention of her genitals.
Then Archimonde focused his attention on her vulva beneath her beautiful buttocks. The demon was surprised to find that this woman was a bald woman, with not a single pubic hair. "Great... saves me a lot of trouble." The demon took out a bottle of red ointment from the box, dipped his finger in it, and applied it to the helpless priestess's nipples and vulva. The cool ointment made Tyrande tremble. A moment later, the demon extended its massive tongue and began frantically licking her genitals and nipples. This was the Burning Legion's most potent aphrodisiac, only effective when mixed with the saliva of a male demon.
Sure enough, as the saliva and ointment mixed, she felt a burning sensation in her lower body. An unprecedented desire surged into her mind. Although Tyrande had emphasized the control of desire throughout her more than ten thousand years of training, the powerful effects of the drug made her burning with lust, her cries becoming incoherent. Her bound hands and feet thrashed about, her body twisting rhythmically. Seeing that the drug had taken effect, the demon focused on licking the priestess's vulva, further stimulating Tyrande with his superb tongue skills. Tyrande finally lost her mind, unleashing more than ten thousand years of pent-up loneliness, her lower body overflowing with fluids. "I never thought that the dignified leader of the night elves was nothing more than a pretentious harlot," Archimonde suddenly stood up and snapped the ropes binding the priestess's hands. Archimonde removed his lower armor and clothing, revealing his already erect, dark-black phallus, as thick as Tyrande's forearm...
2
Archimonde had finally waited for this moment. Without the slightest hesitation, with a strange roar, the demonic member thrust into Tyrande's tight little hole like a spear. "Ah!!!!!" Despite being consumed by lust, the priestess couldn't help but scream as such a massive object entered her. Although she had been with Fa'Ol several times over ten thousand years, that druid's thing was nothing compared to the demonic whip invading her body now. The pleasure of lust and the pain of flesh simultaneously assaulted the priestess's body, her throat almost hoarse from screaming. Instinct drove her to slowly twist her body, her lips constantly moving. The Eredar's sexual intercourse lasted far longer than that of ordinary creatures, including night elves. Archimonde cupped the priestess's breasts in his hands, his massive member thrusting stiffly into her vagina. It remained firm, and the tender opening, untouched for millennia, bled profusely from the relentless impact, further fueling the demon's lust.
"So this is the leader of the night elves—a repressed slut. A little drug and she's more wanton than any succubus I've ever seen," he thought, simultaneously humiliating the heroine who had twice stopped his legion from destroying the world. The pleasure he felt at seeing this once-obstacle to his conquest now so lowly beneath him, being fucked by the demon, surpassed even the destruction of dozens of planets. Tyrande, after all, was a priestess who had cultivated for ten thousand years. After her first orgasm, she gradually regained her senses and clearly felt the pain. She knew nothing of sexual techniques and could only rely on instinctive writhing to alleviate the pain and stimulate her lust.
After two more hours of nightmarish rape, Archimonde roared, his massive body shuddering as his enormous member finally ejaculated violently, shooting a torrent of purple semen into Tyrande's uterus. His large member, stained with blood and semen, slowly withdrew from the woman's body. Archimonde knew that if this continued, this beautiful new slave would be fucked to death by his massive cock. "I'll train you slowly later," the cruel demon thought, gazing at Tyrande's bloodied and semen-covered lower body, feeling immense pleasure as he devised ways to further torture and train her. After such brutal rape, Tyrande was nearly unconscious, her lips unable to close, saliva constantly drooling from her mouth. Her entire body was bathed in the glow of sweat, her long legs barely able to close.
"I've had my fun today, so that's enough. But slave, remember, this is just the beginning, nothing compared to the training you'll face in the future," the demon said cruelly, pinching the slave's chin. His mind raced, but he thought, "I got a little too excited today, definitely went too far." He moistened his fingers with his saliva, which had a healing effect on the body, and gently smeared some on Tyrande's ravaged lower body. Pointing to the collar Tyrande wore, he said, word by word, "Remember, I am your master. As a sex slave, you live to serve me with your body. Rest well and wash yourself clean. Perhaps tomorrow, if I'm in a good mood, you'll have to serve me again." He raised his penis and scraped it across Tyrande's beautiful face, leaving behind filthy semen and bloodstains. "In front of your master, you will always be a sex slave lower than an animal. From now on, after each time we're done, you must use your mouth to clean my thing." Although he no longer played with Tyrande's body, Archimonde didn't miss any opportunity to humiliate her. He knew that these words could cause terrible harm to the female slave before him, just as much as his penis.
"A clever woman who managed to escape from under my nose, you should know what a slave should answer me now." Tyrande's blushing face showed a stubborn expression as she remained silent. The enraged demon deliberately shook his member. "Yes, Master. Thank you, Master," Tyrande replied humiliatedly, her eyes filled with tears. The pain in her heart was no less than the physical pain. After a triumphant laugh, Archimonde swept his penis across the slave's face, summoning Helrin and several succubi, before dragging the humiliated and tormented Tyrande out.
Two
days later, Tyrande, having bathed and groomed as usual, crawled naked into the hall where Archimonde used for lovemaking. She knelt before her master. Just as she was about to rise and perform the newly learned sex slave dance for him, she heard, "No need, today's program is very simple." The slave noticed that her master's expression was different, lacking his usual composure, and seemed more anxious than when he first ravaged her. He picked up the shackles and tightly locked Tyrande's hands, then spread the slave girl's long legs as wide as possible. To Tyrande's surprise, her master didn't touch her genitals, but instead aimed at her plump buttocks. Although they had made love many times before, Archimonde had always focused his main energy on ravaging the slave girl's vulva and modifying her breasts, at most giving it a light touch.
The demon had never observed her buttocks so carefully as he did today. Only now did he truly realize how perfect Tyrande's buttocks were: they had a violet sheen, were fuller and higher than some women who had given birth, exuding the charm of a mature woman, and the skin was much smoother and more delicate than other parts of her body. The deep cleft of her buttocks perfectly and evenly divided this beautiful flesh, and concealed the most shameful secret of a woman. The demon caressed and slapped this exceptional beauty with his large hands. Her smooth buttocks trembled wantonly, displaying unparalleled lewdness. No matter how he played with her, her buttocks would immediately return to their original shape, their elasticity astonishing even to a seasoned veteran like Archimonde.
Archimonde's slaps grew heavier, and the priestess's buttocks gradually became red and swollen. After weeks of intercourse, Tyrande knew what the demon liked about her, and she needed to find a chance to escape. Although this pain was insignificant compared to the physical and mental anguish she had suffered over the past few weeks, she still cried out lewdly to please her master. "Have I truly given in completely?" A bitter smile flickered across the woman's face, making her appear exceptionally beautiful and pitiful, but she quickly returned to the lewd expression befitting a female slave. Fortunately, her master did not notice.
After a dozen more slaps, Archimonde spread Tyrande's buttocks apart, and the slave's beautiful anus was once again exposed to the demon. He had a fetish for women's anuses that drove even his demon brethren mad. His two invasions of Azeroth had claimed countless night elves and human women as victims of his illicit pleasure. Though he had observed and admired her many times, he had yet to truly deflower Tyrande's anus. Hidden between her plump, beautiful buttocks was a pinkish-white opening, far more alluring and narrower than her ever-flowing vulva, surrounded by no unsightly pubic hair, though it carried a slight odor of excrement. This only fueled the demon's arousal. Through observation and experimentation, he discovered that Tyrande's anus was more sensitive than her vulva, perhaps even more pleasurable to penetrate. The thought of soon deflowering such a beautiful chrysanthemum made Archimonde, for the first time ever, unable to contain himself and ejaculate prematurely.
The demon raised his penis and rubbed it against her. Tyrande, combined with her master's unusual behavior today, knew this was no longer a mere peck. The moon goddess had told her, "You will offer your soul to the one who conquers your most filthy place." She must not become a true sex slave, she must not be defiled! Tyrande believed the goddess's words without a doubt. She screamed frantically, "No! No!"
Archimonde grinned maliciously as he smeared his penis and Tyrande's anus with hellhound oil. "Master, let me serve you with my mouth, fuck my cunt, please don't!" Tyrande pleaded frantically, twisting her body, desperately trying to close her buttocks and contract her anus, even though she knew this would only excite the demon more. Archimonde was surprised by the slave girl's violent reaction, but had no intention of stopping. Tyrande knew that at this moment, the only way to protect her anus from being deflowered was to fight desperately. She found the right spot and kicked the demon with all her might.
"Ah!" Archimonde clutched his groin and staggered back several steps. Despite weeks of being a sex slave, Tyrande's legs remained strong and powerful; the demon's essence had significantly strengthened her body, a far cry from the weakness she felt when she lost her virginity. The demon's power hadn't fully recovered, and the kicks to his genitals were excruciating; he discovered his testicles were injured.
"Damn bitch!" Archimonde angrily grabbed a whip and lashed Tyrande across the body. His genitals were injured; without rest, he feared he'd lose all his power and be unable to torment women again. Hearing the demon's pitiful cries, Tyrande's lust was reignited. She gritted her teeth, vowing that no matter what methods the demon used to torture her, she would never yield. "Even in death, I will never submit to you demons again!"
For an entire day, Tyrande was hung high by crazed demons, her head drooping limply, her body bruised and battered, several thin golden needles piercing her nipples, her vulva, still bleeding from Archimonde's thick tail, filled with a large, artificial instrument. Only her beautiful anus remained intact. Archimonde, his manhood damaged, didn't want any instrument inserted into her exquisite rear passage until his penis recovered. Seeing that further torture would kill Tyrande, Archimonde had no choice but to summon Lady Hellin to take her away for treatment, determined to finish her off after he'd had his fill of that anus.
Having only recently resurrected and fled from Mount Hyjal to Outland, Draenor, to avoid attention, restoring his recently triumphant penis to its former glory was no easy task compared to healing a mortal woman. Archimonde had several succubi, each exceptionally skilled in ventriloquism and beauty, meticulously lick his manhood to restore his strength. Despite this, a few unfortunate souls were burned to ashes by his master, who deemed the force too strong. While restoring his manhood, Archimonde pondered deeply. Like leading an army, he had always preferred to use violence rather than spiritual corruption to deal with women; the mortality rate of his sex slaves far exceeded that of Kil'jaeden and his subordinate Tichondrius. He had originally planned to boast to Kil'jaeden about conquering Tyrande after regaining full strength, but unexpectedly, she, who had become his sex slave, had kicked him in a vital spot—a truly embarrassing situation if word got out. In truth, even Kil'jaeden, skilled in meticulous training, could only resort to force to penetrate Tyrande's anus.
Left with no other choice, Archimonde ordered Helrin to recruit skilled individuals in Outland under the guise of an ordinary Eredar to train his female slave's rear, intending to kill them afterward to avoid revealing his location.
Several days passed, and Archimonde's penis was almost fully healed. Finally, someone from the desolate Outland came to claim the reward. Helrin brought a ragged, incredibly ugly Dranor. His short stature barely reached Helrin's thighs. His tortoise-like face was covered in wrinkles, and his small green eyes were filled with cunning. His withered, short body had limbs with similarly dry skin and freely retractable claws. Legend had it that they were a benevolent race native to Outland, practicing shamanism. After the orcs were corrupted by demons, they massacred them, with only a few surviving. Most of them had overthrown the tyranny of the Pit Lord and befriended the demon hunter Illidan, but a few scoundrels had sided with the demons and were even more treacherous and cunning than they were.
"My name is Tork, and I have come to carry out your request, my lord," the Dranor said slowly, kneeling down.
"Come with me." Archimonde dismissed Helrin, not bothering to glance at the ugly monster, and led her into the cell where Tyrande was imprisoned.
Tyrande was bound naked to the ground. Although the demon hadn't tortured her much these past few days, she knew this was just the calm before the storm. Fearing she would commit suicide, Archimonde hadn't dared to free her hands and feet, hadn't given her a proper bath, and had even assigned several succubi to monitor her. Having encountered many ferocious demons, she was no longer surprised by this ugly Dranor.
"This lady is you…"
"Yes, that's right. Enough talk, let's get started." Archimonde wanted nothing more than to finish the training immediately, blast this ugly monster beside him to ashes, and immediately go and enjoy Tyrande's anus, regardless of its quality.
The Dranor knew the demon before her was impatient, so she stepped forward and skillfully spread Tyrande's buttocks, peering into her beautiful anus. She then used her fingers to get some saliva from her mouth. The moment the rough, withered hands met the smooth, beautiful buttocks, Tyrande suddenly felt a nameless fear, her body trembling uncontrollably. The intrusion of fingers into her mouth was especially nauseating. Even demons had never acted this way. She knew what the other's target was and twisted her body in an attempt to resist.
Seeing such a beauty, Tork couldn't help but admire her. He took out a small bottle from his person, containing a tiny gray worm. The Dranor carefully poured the worm onto his fingers, which were covered in Tyrande's saliva. The worm immediately doubled in size upon contact with the saliva, and Tork then slowly placed it into Tyrande's anus. Tyrande felt the foreign object invading her rear, her body trembling again as she tried to close her vagina tightly, but to no avail. Seeing this bizarre technique, Archimonde temporarily abandoned his murderous intent and watched the man's performance with curiosity. "Just wash her afterwards."
Because she hadn't bathed properly for several days, Tyrande's anus was still stained with some excrement. The wriggling worms, upon touching the woman's feces, suddenly turned dark green and stopped moving, then dissolved into a small puddle of green liquid a few seconds later. Tork inserted his thin fingers into Tyrande's tightly clenched anus and evenly smeared the green liquid on her vaginal opening and anal flesh. Humiliated by such a monster, Tyrande's face flushed red, but then she thought that this guy would surely die immediately if he treated her like this, and her mindset calmed down considerably.
The green liquid quickly seeped into Tyrande's anal flesh without leaving any color residue; her anus remained pink and tender.
"Want to know the effect, sir?" Tork said with a wicked grin.
"Show me quickly." Archimonde planned to take his life after the demonstration. The Draenor man dipped his index finger in water and inserted it into Tyrande's anus. The woman tried her best to contract, but found that this made her anal flesh incredibly loose and completely out of her control, allowing this ugly monster to play with her.
"I know you've been waiting impatiently. I'll just demonstrate two more key points." Tork chuckled, his middle finger, moistened with his foul-smelling saliva, slowly inserted into the woman's anus. Tyrande immediately felt the numbness vanish, replaced by an unbearable itching, as if ants were biting her. Her body writhed wildly, sweating profusely, with no relief. Because her anus was more sensitive than other parts of her body, the pain she endured surpassed all previous torment. The engorged anal flesh turned blood red and twitched incessantly, the frantically expanding and contracting little hole looking incredibly cute. Tork's middle finger felt extremely comfortable being enveloped by Tyrande's warm anal flesh. Archimonde watched, his mouth dry, his left hand behind his back conjuring a small green fireball.
Tork, still unsatisfied, withdrew his finger and took out a bottle of blue potion. "The last one is the most crucial. This isn't for applying to your finger, but..." Suddenly, the ugly Dranor, who had been so unhurried just moments before, grabbed Tyrande's arm with incredible speed. The two vanished together before the arrogant Archimonde's eyes. The demon stared in disbelief for a moment before letting out a deafening roar, unable to believe he'd been outmaneuvered by such a petty thief, watching him toy with his slave girl's body only to end up losing both his wife and his army…
The demon began a difficult search. Despite having the Burning Legion's most elite spies under his command, finding the cunning Tork in the vast Outland was proving difficult. But Archimonde vowed: he would find this despicable fellow and tear him to pieces, no matter what.
At this moment, in a dark underground cave, Dra?or, who had just tricked Archimonde with his invisibility, resumed his previous leisurely pace, looking at the naked night elf woman beside him, who was hanging by a rope with a gag in her mouth, with the eyes of someone admiring a mare. "I didn't expect that fool to care so much about you, Tyrande. But don't worry, you'll soon forget him and only remember your new master." After saying that, he slowly took off his tattered leather coat, opened the bottle of blue potion, and walked towards Tyrande, who was struggling in vain...
The
Dra?orian grinned lewdly as he slowly walked towards the terrified Tyrande, took a bench and stood on it so that his hands could reach Tyrande's upper body. His withered and deformed hands kept playing with Tyrande's breasts. During her imprisonment by Archimonde, she was forced to eat special food every day, and now her breasts were obviously enlarged, clearly different from those of ordinary night elf women. Tork's ugly head, which at first glance resembled a giant, purplish-red glans, rested against Tyrande's breasts. He skillfully bit and sucked on one nipple with his horse-eye-like mouth, causing it to swell and redden considerably. Soon after, the Dranor man switched to another nipple. Perhaps it had been too long since he'd tasted anything new, for he showed no sign of boredom despite repeated attempts. Thick saliva dripped onto Tyrande's chest. All the woman could do was involuntarily moan softly.
For Tork, a beauty like Tyrande deserved to be carefully admired and trained from head to toe. He spent an hour just playing with her beautiful breasts. The Dranor man climbed down the ladder and began licking Tyrande's long legs. He knew these legs had almost crippled Archimonde, so he secretly injected a paralyzing poison into them with his small, venomous fangs.
The Dranor untied the ropes binding the woman's legs, carefully parting Tyrande's thighs to examine her vulva closely. Due to excessive rape, Tyrande's labia had turned from pinkish-purple to brownish-red. The Dranor licked her vulva meticulously with his tongue. Although Tyrande's inhumanly vigorous libido made her easily aroused, the touch of this ugly, withered monster filled her with intense disgust and discomfort. Even after licking for a long time, she showed little arousal. Tork continued licking for a considerable period before finally impatiently revealing his large, prized member, though far smaller than Archimonde's, it was still considerably larger than that of Tyrande's husband, Fa'O. The Dranor covered his penis and thrust it into her vulva.
Having been constantly servicing Archimonde's enormous penis, Tyrande, who had seen it all, felt no sexual desire after being penetrated, only a slight pain. Being violated by such a lowly character filled her with shame. She remained silent, knowing this would allow her to humiliate the monster in return. Sure enough, Tork, enraged, tried his best to thrust in and out repeatedly,
but to no avail. The Dranorian, lacking even the will to ejaculate, angrily withdrew his penis. Seeing the embarrassment on the glans, Tyrande looked at the monster with disdain, even letting out a few laughs. Even though she had been humiliated, it was still satisfying to see her abuser fail and suffer a blow to his pride.
"You wretched bitch, I'll deflower your asshole!" Tork angrily dipped his finger in saliva and smeared it into Tyrande's anus. Tyrande immediately felt an unbearable itch in her anus again and frantically convulsed. "Pull out that filthy stuff from your ass!" Tyrande had no choice but to obey. Her lovely anus slowly opened, followed by a violent excretion... Nothing could be more shameful than defecating in front of such a lowly character.
"Let you be smug, you lowly bitch!" Tork slapped Tyrande hard across the face and began his cruel work with some terrible instruments.
For two whole hours, the Draenor man painstakingly broke the collar off Tyrande's neck and repeatedly gave her enemas, carefully cleaning the woman's intestines. Tyrande felt her body was about to collapse, yet clear fluid still flowed from her anus. Tork felt an unusual pleasure in giving the night elf heroine an enema like livestock. Looking at Tyrande's pink anus, which was already slightly turned outwards, he felt the time had come. The Dranor man stimulated Tyrande's anus with saliva again, then evenly applied the mysterious blue potion to his penis, preparing to deflower Tyrande's chrysanthemum.
"Today, in this place, the great Tyrande's virgin anus will be deflowered by me, Tork!" the Dranor man shouted ecstatically, then thrust his penis into Tyrande's itchy anus. Tyrande closed her eyes in pain, even regretting kicking Archimonde. "That demon is far superior to this ugly monster in both appearance and ability, it would be so much better to continue being his slave..." Recalling the goddess's prophecy, her body trembled uncontrollably...
A miracle occurred, a purple light flashed, and before the Dranor man's filthy penis could even touch Tyrande's buttocks, his entire body turned to ashes. "Big Sister Tyrande, are you alright?" It was a familiar voice. Tyrande turned around and saw a tall, strong male night elf. It wasn't the Falcon she longed for, but the archdruid Fandral Staghelm, whom she usually disliked. "I arrived just in time, didn't I?" Fandral teased, stepping forward to untie the ropes binding Tyrande. Several druids followed behind, entering the cave.
Tyrande saw her fellow night elves as her saviors, and disregarding her naked and disheveled state, she threw herself into Staghelm's arms, crying loudly like a woman.
Staghelm expressionlessly embraced the woman, and unexpectedly, gently poked Tyrande's anus with his middle finger. "Ah...ah..." Tyrande's anus felt a terrible tingling sensation again, this time more intense than before. "You...let me..." Tyrande cried out as she used her finger to ease the pain in her anus. She thought she was saved, but she never expected Staghelm to do this to her.
Staghelm ordered his men to leave, put Tyrande down, and pulled down his trousers, revealing an astonishingly large penis, only slightly smaller than Archimonde's. He picked up the blue potion and smeared it all over his shaft, then used his strong hands to spread the woman's buttocks and thrust it forcefully into Tyrande's engorged anus!
"Ah... ahh..." The moment the penis entered, Tyrande felt dizzy, and after a moment of pain, she felt an intense pleasure as her anus was being fucked. She had never experienced such pleasure before... this size was exactly what she wanted. The anal sex gradually reached its climax, and Tyrande's mind went blank. Staghelm's penis was tightly enveloped by Tyrande's engorged anal muscles, giving him unparalleled pleasure. He smiled and whispered a few words in Tyrande's ear, "Master," "Slave." Sure enough, a strange thought arose in Tyrande's mind... Staghelm's body began to change; ram's horns grew on his head, his feet turned into hooves, and purple fur appeared on his body... He kissed Tyrande's elegant neck with his hairy mouth.
After a frenzied lovemaking, both of them were exhausted. Tyrande saw that Staghelm standing before her had become a purple satyr. But this no longer mattered to her... Now, Tyrande's eyes were filled only with lust and loyalty. "Master," Tyrande said softly, kneeling on both knees. Staghelm, now in his true form, smiled and placed his penis before Tyrande's lips. Tyrande immediately took her master's large penis into her mouth...
Fandral returned to his original form and took Tyrande back to Darnassus. The news of the leader's return thrilled the people. Of course, Tyrande concealed the events of the past month. The Sentinel sisters came out to greet their leader, but Tyrande's attention was focused solely on Staghelm.
A month later, both the Sisterhood of Elune and the Cenarion Circle declared that Fa'Oul's soul had perished in the Emerald Dream.
Three months later, Tyrande announced that Staghelm would assume full authority over all Night Elf duties.
Six months later, Tyrande remarried Staghelm. Despite opposition from many druids, many allies still attended the celebration.
The banquet ended, and it was time to enter the bridal chamber for their intimate moments. Staghelm, smugly embracing the beautiful woman, scrutinized her closely; Tyrande in her wedding dress was breathtakingly beautiful. Staghelm slipped his hand under Tyrande's skirt; as he had instructed, she wasn't wearing underwear. He caressed Tyrande's smooth, high buttocks, even inserting his fingers into her anus, which Tyrande responded with wanton moans. Looking at the woman who had been cold and domineering towards him a year ago, now, thanks to drugs, had given her soul and body to him, becoming his sex slave, the only flaw being that his penis still couldn't arouse Tyrande's once-experienced vagina. Staghelm still felt immense satisfaction. He suddenly picked up Tyrande and ran towards their bridal chamber. The moment they stepped into the room, they froze, for standing before them was none other than Archimonde. Six months later, seeing the nightmare that had stolen her virginity again sent chills down Tyrande's spine. She clung tightly to Staghelm...
5
More demon guards appeared, blocking their path. Staghelm, covered in sweat, revealed his satyr form and knelt before Archimonde. "Ah... Lord Archimonde... I... I helped you bring her back from that monster... I couldn't help myself on the way... so..." Looking at the furious Archimonde, Staghelm desperately tried to defend himself, his eyes pleading as he looked at his bride beside him, seemingly seeing her as a lifeline.
Tyrande looked at her spineless groom, glanced at the demons appearing around them, pondered for a moment, bit her lip, and rushed into Archimonde's arms, kissing him. "Tonight, I am your bride. From this day forward, I am yours. Please spare him."
Archimonde kissed his beautiful bride's forehead, sneering, "You can save your life, but tell her what you've done and let her know what you really are." Staghelm hesitated. Archimonde, fireball in hand, gleaming with malice, stammered, "Yes...yes...my lord..."
Staghelm's confession and obsequious manner jolted Tyrande's mind, gradually pulling her from the drug's control. It turned out that Archimonde had been secretly resurrected by him using the power of the World Tree Teldrassil, his purpose being to seize power in Darnassus by borrowing demonic power. Her capture was also part of Staghelm's scheme; he had used her as a bargaining chip to gain true immortality and greater power. The man she once considered her savior was actually the mastermind behind all her humiliations. "Please... spare my life... spare me for the sake of offering her to you."
"You haven't finished yet! You weren't satisfied after getting what you wanted, and you even hired that scum to steal my woman. Even those potions were researched by you using Timewheat!" Hearing this, Staghelm trembled and wet himself. The demon then handed the letter to Tyrande.
The bride looked at Staghelm's handwritten letter. Although the words were very subtle, combined with Staghelm's actions, Tyrande was convinced. She was even more shocked, forgetting that Archimonde called her his woman. The monster who had ravaged her body was actually hired by Staghelm, and the letter even offered her body as repayment. She felt incredibly angry and terrified. Staghelm knelt on the ground, not daring to
look the couple in the eye. "For the sake of your help in my resurrection, I won't kill you, but..." Archimonde raised his hand, and a fireball burned Staghelm's lower body to a pulp. Satyr collapsed in agony… “Get this guy out of here.” Archimonde said, placing Tyrande on the bed and removing his armor. Tyrande saw the demon's massive whip, which she hadn't seen for half a year, and her lower body was once again aroused. The impatient demon didn't even remove Tyrande's clothes, directly lifting her bridal dress and thrusting it into her exposed vulva beneath her beautiful buttocks…
That night, the sounds of their pleasure echoed throughout Darnassus. After satisfying Tyrande's long-dormant flower, Archimonde finally thrust his enormous member into her long-desired rear entrance. Tyrande was so overwhelmed by the intense stimulation that she almost fainted. “Damn it!” the demon cursed Staghelm angrily. Tyrande didn't feel much pain; her heart was breaking. It was better to be with this straightforward demon than with a hypocrite like Staghelm.
The next day, when she awoke, Archimonde and all the demons had vanished. Tyrande sighed softly, changed out of her bridal gown, which was covered in "traces," and after bathing, donned her priestess's white robes again. She stepped outside; it was time to reveal Staghelm's true nature to the people.
After quelling Staghelm's rebellion, Tyrande had regained her position as leader of the Night Elves. She had concealed some facts about Staghelm's corruption, but the people were not fools. Although she still wore her pristine white mooncloth robes, the image of a saint in their hearts was gone. Night Elf society began to gossip about Tyrande, speculating not only about her loss of virginity but also, in some cases, about her inability to control her desires. After being repeatedly violated by demons and then returning to a normal life, Tyrande's uncontrollable desires had led to a masturbation habit. Although she tried her best to restrain herself in public, some observant individuals noticed her unusual behavior. Whenever she appeared in public, many young male Night Elves secretly stared at her with lewd eyes, while women, including many members of the Sisterhood of Elune, began to gossip behind her back. Tyrande was deeply distressed by this.
"For so long, I have appeared before the people as the embodiment of Elune and the invincible protector, worshipped by them. But this is the real me, a night elf woman with flesh and blood, desires, and weaknesses. When they see the real me, they attack me out of jealousy and lust, completely forgetting what I have done to them... Or perhaps, these things have long been buried in their hearts, and my flaws have merely given them the opportunity to vent? Just like... Fandral Staghelm..." The priestess was filled with melancholy, loneliness filling her heart.
"Elune? I believe in you with my life, where are you now? Fa'ol, his heart is only for the world, he has never thought about, nor had the time to think about how much I have given for him, how much I have sacrificed... When the demons began to attack his cave, I, as his wife, risked everything to protect him, to awaken him, and to treat him as my savior. When his wife was in danger, he ignored her and continued to sleep... When I was overwhelmed by internal and external troubles, ravaged by demons, toyed with by my own people, and gossiped about by the people, he only cared about sleeping in the Emerald Dream... In fact, he only saw me as a perfect goddess, and did not understand the real me..." Bright tears streamed down Tyrande's cold face. In this predicament, she even missed the time when she was Archimonde's slave girl.
"For so long, I've followed Fa'ol, putting the people and the world first, making faith in Elune my life, letting them elevate me to the position of leader of the Night Elves, making me a god to be worshipped. But... that's not what I truly want... what I want to be... just an ordinary woman..." she murmured to herself. "
Is that so? If someone understands you, can satisfy you, would you give it all up?" It was Archimonde's voice. Tyrande turned around in surprise. Sure enough, the fully armored Eredar demon stood before her, extending his hand. "Are you willing to abandon everything here and come with me to the Twisting Nether to be my woman? You can have everything you want." This time, the demon's face lacked its usual smugness and smile, replaced by utter seriousness.
Tyrande looked at the demon who had once ravaged and satisfied her, and considered her own situation, finally lunging at the powerful demon...
Tyrande ultimately abandoned everything in Azeroth, returning to the Twisting Nether to become Archimonde's slave. This time, she made no attempt to hide anything. The entire night elf society cursed her with the most vile words, though the curses could no longer reach her ears. Even Fa'Oul and Illidan, far away in Draenor, could hardly comprehend what their goddess had done. Tyrande's job was to serve the demons with her own body; she no longer needed to painstakingly hide her true self and pretend to be a goddess. Here, she could be her true self again…
The End

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The Fall of the Priestess

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