The carriage thundered forward through the Northgate Woods at the outskirts of Gilneas. Princess Tess Greymane sat alone in the dim lantern light of the enclosed passenger area, which could house up to four people with room to spare. The team of six horses had no issue pulling the carriage at a breakneck pace, a whirlwind of leaves and dust swirling behind them. Tess wasn't worried; the coachman was an old servant of her father, King Genn Greymane, and he knew these woods better than anyone.
The bumpy road and failing light made it exceedingly difficult to re-read the many reports she carried with her, and which were the reasons for her expedient return home. If they were to be believed, there had been incidents of Horde aggression. She found it hard to believe nowadays, but it was just as unlikely for all of these reports to spring up all over the continent without reason. Gilneas was a bit too close to the Forsaken, after all, so she had to take them seriously.
The undead had invaded once before and it had cost her brother his life, but after the banshee queen's disappearance, the threat had all but vanished. Nevertheless, if they chose to attack, they would find a strong Gilneas with even stronger allies. With her father located elsewhere, she was the tip of the spear; she was the defense of Gilneas both literally and through her leadership. If the undead did come, she would be a bulwark; Princess Tess Greymane would not be defeated, her defenses would not be penetrated, and the undead would not force their power into her fertile lands. The gates would remain shut and unspoiled.
"Easy, easy," came the voice of the coachman. The carriage came to a stop, sending some of her documents flying.
"Princess," he said through the curtained window, "there is something up ahead".
Tess checked the buckles of the leather belts that ran across her black leather armor. She loaded the hand crossbow and loosened the daggers along her thigh and belt. Finally, she drew up her gray cloak to conceal her face, before stepping out of the carriage.
A tree had fallen, blocking the road ahead. On either side of the road lay darkness between the ghostly trees. Tess scanned her surroundings, suspicious about this seemingly natural barrier. She cast a glance at the stump of the tree. The break was too smooth and the wood too healthy for it to have toppled over by itself. As she approached the trunk, a figure came into view from somewhere behind the stump. The figure wore a deep cloak.
"Who goes there?" Asked the princess, readying the concealed crossbow below the cloak. "Make yourself known!"
"You would hardly believe it," a man's voice responded.
She raised an eyebrow; there was something familiar about that voice. "Show yourself!"
The figure drew his hood back. She gasped alongside the coachman as the hood revealed a handsome man with shoulder-length light-brown hair and a matching goatee.
"Liam," she exclaimed. "Brother. But I saw you die."
"And indeed, I did," the man responded. "I was resurrected by a priest after the turmoil had ended. I joined a resistance and found out that it would be safer for both you and the kingdom if I stayed hidden and struck from the shadows. Now, there is a new threat looming, and I need your help, sister."
"This can't be real," Tess said halfway to herself. "Is this some undead trickery?"
She tensed as the man, who called himself Liam and brother, pulled out a dagger. He raised the opposite hand and drew the blade across its palm. Blood immediately poured from the wound. "I am not dead, sister, at least not yet" he said. "You must trust me. I do require you aid."
Against her better judgement, Tess put away her dagger. "Come down, then."
As they came face to face, she saw that the man was the spitting image of her brother Liam. While his hair was a light brown, hers was raven black, but they shared the golden eyes, sharp nose, wide mouth, and full lips. Before being able to rationalize it all, she threw herself in his arms. He hugged her close. No dagger sank into her back. No foul magic assaulted her. It was truly her brother.
Moments later, the siblings sat around the flickering flames of a little campfire. She had agreed to accompany him and had sent the carriage away, giving the coachman orders to hand the documents over to the city's guard captain. Her brother had convinced her that his quest was more pressing, but closely related to her own.
"To the northeast, within these very woods, there is a clearing," her brother explained as they looked at each other over the flames. "An undead warlock dwells there, conducting dark rituals. In this place, birds and animals make themselves scarce. I believe there is something truly dark going on. What is more, this warlock flies the banner of the Forsaken – in our lands!"
"Curses," Tess spat. "Then the reports are true. The Horde is on the rise and has once again grown aggressive toward us. What do you suggest, brother?"
"We must vanquish this immediate threat, then, bolster Gilneas' defenses, and finally prepare our forces to assist the Alliance."
"Good," Tess nodded. "How powerful is this warlock? Do you think we can take him, the two of us, or should we call for aid?"
"Let us deal with this minor threat together, sister," Liam responded with a teasing smile. "One simple foe is no match for the princess and prince of mighty Gilneas. Let us not disrupt the city guards. We will have this pitiful fool begging for mercy in seconds."
They smiled at each other, chuckling. Tess was usually not one for bravado, but her brother was right. This warlock would be returned to the grave without
any of them breaking a sweat.
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The clearing lay between two forested hills under bruised clouds. A dark smoke rose from a fire at the center of it, upon which boiled a cauldron. The banner of the Forsaken hung motionless above a table not twenty feet to the right of the fire. A male undead with long, thinning hair stood before the cauldron performing some ritual. He looked to be alone, no familiars dancing around. What an absolute fool to invade their kingdom without even a demon by his side.
As planned, Tess stealthily snuck up from the right, toward the table. Once she was in position, her brother would make himself known to the warlock and get some answers, while Tess made ready to attack from behind. As she approached the table, she saw that a crooked dagger lay there, alongside an old grimoire, and a document of some sort. Swiftly, she ran her eyes across the document:
The prince lives. He might cause trouble from the woods when we besiege the city. Make yourself known, preform any ritual to set the trap, which will hopefully draw him out. If we're lucky, he will contact the princess and attack. If not, at least we might get him into the open. The king will surrender if we hold his heirs.
With a silent gasp, she turned around. She had to warn her brother.
"Why have you come to these woods?" she heard him say as he emerged from hiding. It was too late. Without hesitation, the warlock spun, hurling a shadow bolt at Liam. Her brother threw himself to one side, dodging the incoming projectile. He jumped to his feet, drew his sword, and charged at the undead man.
It was time to act. Tess revealed herself with a well-aimed bolt from her crossbow. It slammed into the back of the warlock, who turned toward her with a snarl. Purple symbols suddenly circled around him.
"He's summoning a demon," Tess yelled, drawing a dagger. She cast a glance toward her brother and froze. Another warlock, also undead but bald and with iron strapped about his skull, had emerged as if from nowhere. He stood thirty feet from her brother, symbols apparent around him as well.
It was too late to run to her brother's side now. She had to focus on her own target first.
On light feet, she dashed across the uneven ground. She jumped a fallen tree, skirted a rock, and plunged through the sagging soil toward the warlock. Only five strides away, the symbols exploded in fel magic, and eight imps materialized out of thin air. Whether yellow, gray, or red, they all had long, pointy ears and curving horns atop their tiny heads. They bared sharp teeth as they smiled at her. They were no taller than two feet, but their muscular little bodies and sharp claws looked frightening.
Tess attempted to stop, figuring it unwise to attack her targets head on. However, the wet grass betrayed her. She slipped and fell on her back. Before she had time to blink, the imps were upon her. Daggers and crossbow were ripped away and tossed into the mire. Tiny hands clawed at her leather armor and pulled at buckles. Wherever there was linen or silk instead of leather, they tore deep shreds. In grim cooperation, they held her arms and feet pinned down.
"Brother, help!" she yelled. Panic playing at the pit of her stomach.
She looked up to see her brother standing face to face with a demon of his own. The other warlock had summoned a succubus. The demoness was as tall as he was, and nearly naked. Great, bat-like wings she had, and upward pointing, purple horns. Her tits were absolutely enormous, and barely contained within a golden, metallic brassiere with a cleavage so deep it left little to the imagination. Black hair hung straight to her shoulders and was cut with bangs, framing her face. Unnaturally big eyes glowed a pale blue in that gorgeous face, and full lips split in a cruel smile to show a pair of fangs. In her hand she held a coiled whip. Most disturbing of all was that where Tess would have expected to demon to have a smooth undergarment covering her femininity, there was instead a bulging hammock of loincloth, imprisoning the Light knew what.
"I'm coming," the prince yelled in response. Yet, as he started to run toward her, the whip cracked, curling around the prince's sword. With a powerful pull, the sword went flying. Her brother looked at her with a fearful expression, then at the sword, lodged in the soil next to the succubus. He made a choice and ran toward Tess. If he could only get those imps away, she could find her daggers and knife the bastards.
The whip cracked again. It tore at his leg, making him stumble. He fell hard on the ground with a breathy grunt.
"Get up! We need to get out of here," Tess yelled. The imps had unbuckled her belts and ripped holes in her clothes. Even her fine leathers were starting to fall apart. What in the world were they doing? One of the little fucks had grabbed a clump of her hair, pulling at it.
Liam stumbled and crawled across the rugged terrain in order to get some distance between himself and the succubus. The whip cracked the air, the sound reverberating through the forest and valley. Her brother screamed out in pain as the three tails at the very end of whip tore long gashes in his pants and stung his butt. It looked as if some giant cat had raked its claws across it. He tried to get to his feet but stumbled and fell as the whip smacked a second time, then a third. His pants were tatters, his ass hanging out with crisscrossing red lines. Using his hands to drag himself away, he managed to get halfway across the trunk of a fallen tree when a cloven hoof was placed on his lower back, pushing him down on the log. The succubus had pinned him down, bent across the log. Liam twisted, clawed, and punched behind him in an effort to get the hoof off, but to no avail.
"Leave my brother alone," Tess yelled.
The succubus smiled, then with a flick of her finger unbuttoned her bulging loincloth. It was flung aside as what resembled a horse cock unfurled from its fabric prison. It wasn't the size of a stallion's member, but bigger than any human she had seen. The flat-tipped pole was black as night, with red veins twisting and emerging all over. She ran a demonic hand across it, the green glow of fel magic dancing at her fingertips, and the thing began to glisten wetly with fel-infused lubrication.
"If this is my final moment, know that I love you," Liam told his sister, unable to see what the succubus was doing. He must have been waiting for a killing blow because he closed his eyes. "Get out of here, sister, tell father about this threat."
The flat tip kissed his little hole.
"What the… no, not like this! Not that!" he yelled. The frantic fighting resumed. Apparently, he was prepared to face his death, but not an anal excavation.
The succubus applied pressure and Liam grew more desperate. Fortunately, it seemed the tip was too broad and flat to penetrate her brother's keyster. His constant wiggling made it even harder for the succubus. Her vampiric smirk turned into an expression of mild annoyance. She put more weight leaning forward and gave a violent push. It must have slipped away between her brother's legs, because she slipped forward and had to catch herself on the log.
"Light, please, mercy," Liam yelped. He tried to crawl away, but the succubus found her balance and pushed him back onto the tree trunk with a strong leg.
"Stop this madness," Tess growled. "Let us talk instead."
"Now you wish to talk," one of the warlocks creaked hoarsely. He made a waving gesture with one hand, prompting two of the imps who were ripping at her clothes to scuttle over to her brother instead. A fight ensued in which her brother was punching and wafting after the dancing imps as they skipped about before him. A faithful missed strike gave one of the imps an opening, and the tiny demon leapt upon the outstretched hand and grappled it. Trying to reach his pinned hand with his free one, Liam left it open for flanking by the other imp, who pounced on it, holding it in place. Liam's muscles tensed as he fought to re-tract his hands, but now he was truly stuck across the fallen tree.
Tess fought harder than ever, spread out as she was by the imps. She had to break free, had to get away from the clawing hands that tore at her clothes. Had to free her brother. She looked up from her futile struggle and met Liam's eyes. He was just staring at her. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she saw wetness in his eyes. The succubus had his legs pinned beneath her and his arms were outstretched before him. Tess met his eyes; his jaw was clenched shut in brutal anticipation. Then she saw the smirk of the succubus as she looked at Tess.
"Mercy," Tess whispered.
The demoness drove from her hips and legs, barely contained jugs jiggling wildly as the black stake was thrust all the way to its base. Her brother howled as his ring of innocence was ripped open by an invading force. The speedy expedition of the phallus followed by an equally expeditious retreat, which was in turn repeated in rapid succession. The demoness tossed her head back in euphoric joy as her feminine hips rammed her symbol of masculinity into what had up until now been solely an exit. The grunts and cries of her brother appeared to excite the monster further. Liam's eyes were large and pain-stricken, spittle was flung from his open mouth, and his primal shrieks were haunting.
"Stop it!" pleaded Tess.
"You're breaking my a-a-a-aaaass," cried her brother.
After what seemed like forever, his screams had become grunts, the light of hatred dulled in his eyes. The succubus pushed all the way in to lay a hand on his next. Fel energy glowed once more. A pink veil came across his eyes and his noises ceased alongside his resistance. All fight was gone from his face.
The imps let go. The succubus gave Liam a few more deep thrusts for good measure, then got to her hooves with the slurpy sound of her retiring member as it slipped out of Liam's ruined bunghole.
The gangly warlock with the long hair hissed something in an infernal language, prompting the succubus to bow and smile. She sauntered over toward Tess. The two imps were there before her, joining the others. This time they made quick work of her attire. Soon enough she was exposed, only boots remaining. Her pale skin was in sharp contrast to the gray imps and darkened ground at her back. Her double-handful breasts flopped from side to side and jiggled, albeit without the firmness of the succubus, as she redoubled her efforts to get free. Her abdominal muscles visible with her strain, she arched her back to get the momentum to break free. It was no use. Those tiny hands were everywhere, squeezing, caressing, and clawing. Her fit hindquarters were primed for kicking, but the imps gave her no room to do so.
"No, stay away. Stay away! You will not put that disgusting thing in me," Tess exclaimed, not even trying to retain some measure of calm. Instead, she looked to her brother, who had stood up behind the log. "Please, brother, help me!" He only stared after the meandering demoness, almost lustfully, she thought.
The succubus approached, but to Tess's surprise, her limb grew soft. It hung like the trunk of the draenei's elekks, and she rolled it up and tucked it away in the bulging hammock. The succubus went past her, squatting behind Tess. She stretched out a hand, signing 'come hither' with a pale, long-nailed finger.
"What is happening?" Tess demanded.
To her horror, Liam got up, tattered pants falling away. He walked over to his struggling sister. As he approached, the imps enhanced their efforts and drew her legs as far apart as they could. Tess went crimson as her bald womanhood was laid bare, the imps' labor unfolding her slit to reveal an opening pussy.
"W-what are you doing? W-what is this?"
Liam, her brother who she had grown up with, who she had played with in the streets of Gilneas, knelt down before her sanctuary. His eyes were fixed above Tess, however, where they met the succubus seductive face. The demoness leaned forward, clutching Liam's soft member. Immediately, it grew rigid as steel, the average-size dick now glistening with the same wetness as the succubus' had.
"No, no, Liam!" Tess screamed her lunges out. She threw her head back, trying to connect with the succubus, but it only hit her hard stomach. Fear turned to rage-filled terror. "I will kill you all for doing this to us. Let us go."
Liam took hold of his member and, without ceremony, let it slide into Tess's oasis. Tess cried out, not in pain but in mind-shattering shame and emotional agony, as her brother's sausage glided unhindered into the warm depths of her temple. Their depraved union broke her heart and seeped into her memories to spoil them too. The prince's member marched through the damp halls of the princess to assault the inner sanctum of her womb. As his nut sack smacked against her winking butt hole, her tears ran salty with bitterness, shame, and fear. Upon her soul was seared a mark worse than any branding, one that could not be healed or washed away. With mechanical movements, he began the rhythmic assault on his sister. His gaze never looked at her, only the succubus leaning above her.
"It isn't you; this isn't you. Liam, wake up," Tess sobbed. Looking around for sympathy, she saw the cold faces of the undead watching as if they were observing water boil. "You rotting scum! I will – "
Her words were severed as the whip was coiled around her throat and neck. The demoness was choking her. Her weeping, begging, and cursing only escaped her lips as soundless, breathless gulps. Quickly, the thrusting of her brother's flesh stick into her familial cavity became secondary. Her fingers and toes flexed and wriggled as she tried to get the space to fight back. Every inch of her being told her to grab the coils of the whip and drag it away from her compressed windpipe, but there were no free limbs with which to do so. Black specks flew across her vision. Then with sudden release, the whip loosed slightly. She sucked in air.
"Plea – "
The noose tightened again. She managed a throttled squeak before she was back to gaping like a fish pulled out of the ocean. Again, she struggled helplessly, useless against the asphyxiating influence of the succubus. Through her narrowing vision, she thought she saw an eclipse, a great moon moving past the sky. It took her a moment to realize it was in fact the succubus, still holding on to the stranglehold, who was positioning her naked booty on Tess's face. The demonic cheeks were enormous, soft mountains falling in on her. Her undergarments still held the wound-up trunk and a pair of massive testicles imprinted on the fabric, but the string that went inside the ravine between those pillowy cheeks had been pulled aside. As the demoness was coming down, the ravine opened into a winking, brown bunghole. In a coordinate effort, the stranglehold around her neck was relieved for a second, letting her draw half a breath, before the smothering ass fell upon her. The smell of sweaty ass overwhelmed the powerless Tess as her nose was placed snuggly within the brown starfish of the demoness. The cloth-covered sack plopped into her gaping mouth, wetting the fabric. No longer strangled, but now smothered, she desperately tried to push the globes from her lips with her tongue. It was the only part of her body free to fight back. The continuous plunging of Liam was almost forgotten at this point.
She thought she heard the succubus moan. The fabric of her hammock ripped as her trunk turned rigid, ripping from its lackluster prison. Suddenly freed, the balls flopped onto the face of Tess, oozing out like melting candlewax. The succubus stood up, allowing Tess to wheezingly ventilate. The strangulation of the whip resumed, but this time, the succubus used it to lift Tess's upper body. She felt the demoness slide and shimmy underneath her. Soon, Tess found herself laying on the succubus, still supine.
"M-mercy," she coughed as the whip released its grip momentarily. The succubus laughed in her ear.
"No mercy," the demon hissed.
As the whip tightened again, the demoness gently placed her bitchbreaker against Tess's tightest hole. It pushed her upward, arching her at the hips as if a pole was raised inside a tent. Liam had to reposition in order to stay inside his sister. Tess clenched her buttocks and bunghole as hard as she could. At first, her fit cheeks held their ground, and she floated atop the demon stake. But then, the wet pole began slipping between her cheeks. It was her star that got kissed this time around. The succubus did not move, did not apply force, she just remained there, letting her get slowly impaled. It was inevitable. Her last air gone, Tess cramped, her resistance faltered, and the massive cock plunged past her surrendered ring and into the cavern of pain. The grunt that came from Tess was from her chest, but it could not get through her shut windpipe. The world exploded in agony. Liam was tertiary now, all but forgotten. The asphyxiation was secondary. What dominated her remaining consciousness was the unstoppable schlong getting free reign within her guts.
What followed was a merciless pounding. Every now and then she got a ration of air, which she first used for sobbing pleas, but swiftly learned was better spent sucking in as much air as possible. She was painfully aware of the agonizing rhythm of her brother and the monster mistress. Sometimes, their patterns alternated, her being deep when he retreated and vice versa; she came to think of this pattern as a moment of respite, where she didn't feel as full. However, when the different paces of the two made their rape frequencies match, there was a synchronicity in their thrusts – both pulling out almost entirely before plunging in simultaneously – that brought such a stretching, clawing, ripping pain it made her hope that this was the time the whip noose was kept too tight, and she was ended.
The portioning of breaths was continued, however. At one point, the succubus grew erratic in her assault. There was no warning. The hellish balls contracted as demonic batter was pumped into Tess's beaten rectum. The goo stung and itched as it coursed through her passage, filling her up like a brewer's barrel. The softening limb slipped out of her with a tide of sludge, like a log in a riptide. Her air-deprived mouth and brutalized ass-ring were both yawning pits; one gaped because of what it wanted to be fed but wasn't; the other gaped because of what it had been fed with force.
The whip uncoiled, slipping away from her throat. Greedily, she drew breath, gulping down mouthfuls of the stuff. A rough hand grabbed her hair, directing her face upward so that she was forced to watch her brother's continued fucking. Tears streamed from the abuse as much as from the shame. His pale cock slipped in and out with a sloppy sound, the end of its head visible before it disappeared all the way in. She only truly understood the magnitude of her predicament as her brother's thrusts also became erratic.
"N-no, not inside me. M-m-mercy," she sobbed, her voice barely audible due to its battered hoarseness. Her arms and legs tired from fighting imps.
"Brother, wake up. Not inside!"
Liam grunted. He jabbed it all the way in, remained there for a shuddering moment, then quickly withdrew and inserted it again for another shuddering moment within her lowest depths. After the third shudder of his deep-seeded nut, having fulfilled his domestic insemination, the pink veil across the prince's eyes dissipated. Shocked, he looked around, then down. With a gasp, he pulled out, a fountain spray of cum pursuing him from the princess' cave. He landed on his back, crawling away on his elbows, kicking with his heels.
"No, no, no, no," he cried out, eyes wild. "How could… what are… you monsters! Sister, I am so sorry."
Tess was vaguely aware of the imps licking, biting, and sucking at her nipples. One had even crawled between her legs and was gorging on the spilling goo. She did not answer – did not even cry. She just stared into the sky.
"G-get away from her," she heard her brother say.
One of the imps dipped his whole arm into her ass to dig out more of the good stuff. Her colon ached with phantom fullness; her young ring was shattered. What was a tiny, clawing hand against that ocean of agony?
The succubus repositioned herself between Tess and her brother, whip at the ready. It uncoiled, tails traveling through the air. But this time, it was met with the sound of singing steel. The sound brought Tess back from the edge of unconsciousness. Her brother clasped his blade. The succubus looked at her whip, which now ended in a pathetic stump. Before she had time to react, Liam was upon her, blade flashing. The demoness screamed out as a downward slice cut her from shoulder to belly. She stumbled back, not dead but certainly dying.
"The tables have turned!" Liam bellowed, his voice cracking slightly with exhaustion and, no doubt, the strain of his abuse.
He took another step toward her, but she simply faded into nothingness. The imps, busy with playing Tess's tits like drums and treating her holes as almost empty honey jars, suddenly vanished too. Her limps free, she collapsed on the ground.
"What the – what's going on, you cowards?" Liam shouted.
The siblings' wounded eyes met for a second, then they turned them in tandem to the warlock duo. Their hands were working in the air, weaving a green-fringed dark energy. Runes and circles danced around them.
"Th – they," Tess began weakly, but was interrupted by a cough. She swallowed hard and gave it another try. "They are summoning something. Stop them!"
Liam lifted his sword and charged.
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Howls of terror echoed across the plains of Gilneas. It was not the cry of wolves, but of the siblings Greymane. On a hill overlooking the city stood two warlocks, contemplating potential approaches and future plans. Each undead was flanked by their immense Doomguard. Affixed to the armor of each demon was one of the Greymanes. Their hands were shackled to chains that looped around the demons' necks as if they were necklaces. Each human had their feet shackled to the Doomguard's belt, on each side of its hips. Unfortunately, that was only the facilitation of their predicament.
Liam's demon rested its massive felrod deep within the prince's man-pussy, making his battered colon a cock sleeve. The actual pussy of Tess suffered a similar fate, as if the widening cunt was a sheath for the demon's fleshy greatsword. Their howls of agony grew more intense when the demons walked with their bouncy gait, the siblings' regal holes reluctantly adapting like the leather of new boots. If that alone had been the extent of their torment, one would greatly pity the brother and sister. Nevertheless, it was even worse. Around the top of Liam's balls was a thick, broad iron ring. Two fine chains of woven silver ran from the ring where each ended in a weight that dangled heavily below. Not only did the cruel contraption stretch and elongate his poor nut sack, but the downward force would contribute to his incremental impalement on the demon's widening breeder stake.
Meanwhile, his sister faced her own ordeal mere feet away. Her nipples had been pierced with golden rings. Each of these rings, like her brother's iron one, had finely woven silver chains running downward. The chains were attached to a great iron ring around the demon's nut sack. As the Doomguard took large strides, his balls swung like great, tolling bells, which led to a perverse tug-of-war between the powerful circular balls of the demon and the massive jiggling boobs of Tess. Their howls, set to the beat of slapping testicles, could truly be called the music of the spheres.