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Mok’Nathal Repopulation

The presence of a strange ‘Hozen’ in Ashenvale might help the Mok’nathals

“And this is through this Moonwell we perform most of our rituals. Blessings of fecundity…”

“Hunhun.”

“Blessings of recovery. Blessings of… Hum. I guess this closes the visit. If I may.”

“Hunhun.”

With another nod, Nimbus grabbed a handkerchief out of his pocket and blew his nose with it. Whatever he caught on his way to Ashenvale left him sick, scrambling for his thoughts, and foggy-brained. His eyes often wandered as he observed that Night-elf outpost.

Whoever had welcomed him and shown him the place was gone, and so were most of the people living in the outpost. Something about a ritual outdoors or under or… Whatever.

“Could have something for my headache. Herbs or something,” mumbled Nimbus as he sat.

It was not surprising that they offered him next to nothing. Though he did not hail from Pandaria, Nimbus’s simian features were often likened to those of a Hozen, a barbaric kind.

But no, even though his fur was coarse like theirs, his face presented a prognathism, making him look brutish like orcs, and he had a tail, but he was not barbaric. Or so he thought of himself as he sat near the Moonwell, blowing his nose.

“Damnit. Not even a potion,” moaned the Monkey, looking at the contents of his handkerchief and frowning before throwing it away. “Ugh… Anything.”

His eyes again wandered left and right. On the treehouses, the tree-structures, the tree-verything that made every part of the Night Elf outpost. And then to the stone that was oddly comfortable under his plump posterior, and then the shimmering waters from the well.

“Uh… He said something about recovery. Must help… No?” mumbled Nimbus, leaning to collect the water in his palm.

It didn’t smell funny. It didn’t look weird. And when he lapped it, it was fresh. If it was laced with something, at that point, the Monkey did not care, and he took one sip, feeling much better and refreshed.

“Oh! Ohhhh yes! That’s good,” he commented through his gulps, though most of the water dripped over his fur and chest.

Whatever was inside that well, it made him feel so much better. Maybe that was why the Night-elf abandoned him here, knowing he would drink? Nevertheless, Nimbus cupped more water and poured it into his open mouth before he wiped his mouth, feeling much better.

He could feel… energetic. No, he could feel that refreshing sensation coursing through his veins and somehow exuding from his skin, from his self, from his every breath that felt even minty as he smiled.

“Oh. Yes, that’s definitely good,” he said with a sly chuckle, his eyelids closing on their own.

He frowned and forced them to open, moved his hands. But just as fast as his recovery was, a drowsiness swept over him, making him… Drop. No, making him fall gently on the grassy ground and find himself ready for… A nap.

-

Elsewhere in Ashenvale, the forest was brimming with life and energy.

Not like usual, with the prey and predators thriving underneath the high canopy. There was something else… Something was almost wrong as Rexxar knelt by a shrub a predator had marked. As he sniffed, the smells he picked up felt wrong.

It was the winter season, yet all the beasts around were rutting. Whatever beast had marked that shrub smelled of both a female and a male.

The atmosphere had swelled with an exhilarating presence that made Rexxar frown.

For most of his life, Rexxar had thrived in places like this. The Half-Orc, Half-Ogre, had seen many places. His body, massive and muscular under the fur, and his wolf-shaped helmet, bore the marks of many feral predators who’d attempted to kill him.

He’d endured the bite of the fel, of the void, of the nightmare itself.

But this was different. This felt different. It was pure life welling up through Ashenvale.

And the more he delved into the shaky overgrowth, the further he progressed into the Night Elf territory.

“It better not be a wild druid,” huffed the Mok’nathal, heaving as he pushed back the fronds to approach one of the Night Elves' outposts that had been recently settled after the many exchanges with the Horde.

Yet… It was clearly from there, as Rexxar circled it, that the energy was coming.

He braced himself, he raised three fingers to order his trusty companions away, Misha among them, and then he snuck forward.

He snuck, hunched, watching out for any Night Elves on the lookout. Yet, much to his surprise, there were none. No smell, no traces, no sight. If they were there, they must be as good as invisible.

Another surprise. Something felt afoul for the Mok’nathal as he glared and then straightened up to pick up his pace. If there were no guards and beasts were running amok, it meant it could not be the druids. Hence, it had to be a renegade or something.

Either way, Rexxar ran. His chest lifted as he inhaled, filling up his lungs, and ran, crossing through the wooden bridge. He stomped onward, crushing flowers and grass as he approached the outpost’s center.

Again, no traces of the Night Elves. The sole sign of something was… A furry shape sleeping in the grass, surrounded by flowers of all colors and sorts, by the Moonwell.

“That must be it,” commented Rexxar, slowing down as he approached the sleeping shape. He checked his double axes and pulled one.

And yet, he dropped it.

No, more than that, he dropped to his knees and then elbows as he felt something. Something was stabbing him. Not in the heart, the chest, or the belly. It felt like something had hit between the legs, but not at his privates, behind them.

“Curs-“ tried to articulate Rexxar, only for his head to drop against the ground as he grit his teeth and felt that pain flare through his groin.

Not only.

He could feel his genitals heat up; he could sense something like a rut hit him like it had in his young years when untrained. His raspy breath was apace, his hands and arms vainly trying to roll under him.

What was happening was not only intense, but it rolled over him, hit him like a Warhammer. And it felt good.

Sure, the pain was like something was splitting apart behind his testicles.

But how could it compare to the sudden sensation that having his dick rubbed was like a lovely caress?

His fingers were ravenous in reaching for his loincloth, yanking the fabric away to reveal his shaft that was not only erect, stiff, and dripping… But bigger as well.

Much bigger when his hands, doubtful, danced upon his dark-brown cocktip or on the sizable ochre foreskin that covered his veiny length.

He frowned, he gargled… And more than that; he felt another spike of pleasure and pain surging from behind his testicles.

“Is this?” he mumbled, slurring even.

His voice wasn’t his own as he reached for his testicles, finding them taut and wider. Much wider than before, like fruits that were so engorged and full, they were about to explode. He was to burst, to cum. Yet, through sheer will and desire to know, Rexxar’s fingers pushed his scrotum aside in a moment… Just enough for his calloused index finger, for that tip hardened through years of fighting, to stroke something. Soft.

Velvety. Moist. Needy.

His eyes widened as he pushed deeper, fought against his testicles that were throbbing with an impossible life… And pushed against what were labias, soft, ready, and so quick to bend under his touch.

And he moaned, his mind suddenly bursting with desire.

“Spirits,” he groaned, his face planting into the grass while his index finger plunged against the entrance, within… And within him.

He shuddered, feeling the entrance clenching while a shot went through him, making him drool on the floor. It was feeling good. He felt good. He felt alive and well. And he was feeling it. That orgasm.

Or those orgasms.

The first, feminine, had already wrecked him, yet it continued the more he wiggled his index within his wide entrance, stretching it further and further until there was the second knuckle inside.

Each time it hit, Rexxar’s thighs clenched and his nethers tensed up, sending forth a precum shot, hitting his belly.

But the latter, the masculine part. Oh, it was… Different.

That one kept growing and pushing, threatening the Mok’nathal with each breath and more. Even the soft breeze grazing his cocktip was making his lower reaches burn and flare with envy. He desired it… He wanted to cum. But something was foul, amiss. Within Rexxar, something, an instinct, told him not to.

Yet… As his index dug deeper and his newfound cunt clenched from the coitus, that orgasm came. Fourth, brutal, numbing, erasing the pain or the soreness he was not even aware of. From his jaw to his skull, to the broken bones poorly healed. All was swept, all was erased. And remained… The pleasure. The orgasm, the tremors shaking him down to his core.

He roared.

He roared; even the canopy was shaking, the trees almost swaying from the tremor.

Rexxar came, much more, much more than before. This was a salve, a flood, a dam breaking down, and with it… Cum came. But not only.

His cunt, the one he’d been playing with, clenched and squirted all over his fingers and the grass. The liquid, sweet like honey and tempting like a drug, flooded freely while the tight and virgin orifice clenched.

Clenched and pumped and sprayed all behind him, while the front, his chest, his chin, and then the land ahead, was coated in musky white.

His fluids were everywhere, though his steamy semen had the most pungent smell and one that was permeating the whole outpost in a matter of seconds while Rexxar huffed, growled… And still had his fingers digging into his vulva, in a reflex or a desire, while the poor muscles clenched back to force him out.

It couldn’t force him out.

But the pleasure he’d been experiencing was less now. He could force his fingers inside, add another, but the constant buzz from the little orgasms, continuous, was less. Much lesser. Enough for Rexxar to be gulping his saliva down and glancing around. His cock was once more hard. Once more, he was feeling excited. Once more, his hormones raged on.

And he was unaware.

Of the changes. As his fingers delved into his cunt, he did not notice the veins bulging across his body. He did not see the throbs going over his arms and legs. Nor did he notice how his back, as impressive as it was even with the cloak, seemed to throb, bulge, and… Grow?

He was growing. It was undeniable, and his body was soaring with a newfound strength, but one whose focus was on force-feeding more to that vulva, in getting something from the stimulation, another orgasm.

He roared.

Not from pleasure, but frustration. His cunt was even aching, craving, but merely plunging his fingers inside brought nothing. No orgasm, no ejaculation, no freedom.

His cock, as veiny as his body, was throbbing, too. Some droplets of precum landed forward, as a signal he could still produce. But the liquid was translucent and not as musky, nor as dense as his cum.

Yet…

Inside him, the hormones kept raging on, and that fire was feeding his changes. His shoulders, already square, were practically bulging with strength. His pectorals widened and sagged slightly under their own weight. His abdominal waist, from the six-pack to the side, grew, making his belt dig into his leathery skin.

His arms and legs followed the same changes as the muscles were fighting against the skin that held them until stretch marks appeared along the quadriceps and biceps. But those marks were practically minimal, a slight underlining of what had swept over Rexxar.

He was growing, he was raging, he was slobbering. And he was… Bigger. Much bigger as he sniffed the air and heard a shuffle.

“What’s… happening here?”

Rexxar’s eyes turned to the source of that noise, his helmet facing that… Furred creature. Not a Hozen, but definitely simian. And the smell that came from it was tempting, oh-so-sweet. That and the energy, the fire that drove Rexxar to crawl closer, on all fours, his closed fists digging into the soft soil.

“Fuck. My head… And… Wait. Wait! Wait!”

The ‘Hozen’ was rolling and twisting, suddenly grabbing his posterior and yanking away what little clothes he had.

What drove that one to strip? Well, Rexxar wouldn’t know. Or perhaps he would have known, but in his state, he could only glance at the ‘Hozen’ with a predatory intent. And wait.

Wait while the ‘Hozen’ finished stripping and exposed his dry but muscular body, his chiseled muscles… His quite-generous endowment. And then… Those genitals he pushed away to reveal the source of that cloying scent that made Rexxar salivate.

A vulva. An orifice much like his own, whose aroma titillated his nose and pushed another rush of hormones.

“What… Was that the water?! Woah! Woah! Don’t approach me… Big guy?”

Too late. Rexxar was already approaching, closing the few feet separating them until he stood up on his feet. Already, as a Mok’nathal, Rexxar was impressive. Larger and taller than most Orcs, he was now comparable to an Ogre. His skin bulged, covered with veins, his fists clenched and grasping the air.

Saliva dripped from his mouth while steam followed each of his exhalations. The same steam emanated from his cocktip, releasing a musky scent that was not only potent but far-reaching.

The ‘Hozen’ had his eyes going up and down, watching Rexxar. His own vulva must have slipped at the back of his mind, especially when he ogled the Mok’nathal’s enormous shaft, practically as big as that ‘Hozen’’s arm.

A cock whose foreskin had been peeled off by the erection. Whose head had a ravenous red coloration, whose frenum strained to keep it all covered while digging into the tip. And whose flesh, from the tip to the base, was covered with a slightly greasy sheen.

“Breed,” said Rexxar, driven by something. An inner voice whispered to him a simple reality: he had to breed. And that ‘Hozen’ was the perfect candidate for it.

“That’s… Hmm. That’s not the first time I have been asked to be fucked that way… But maybe we can… Have a dinner first?” asked the ‘Hozen’, pushing against Rexxar’s shaft with his index finger.

“Rexxar,” grunted Rexxar, his saliva falling onto the ‘Hozen’ as he leaned forward.

“Rexxar… Huh,” continued the ‘Hozen’, looking left then right. “Is that your name?”

Rexxar nodded, the usual words slipping out of his mind. The fire within him was too intense. He was forgetting everything but that thirst for breeding.

“Hmm. A pleasure to meet you, Rexxar. And I’m Nimbus. Now, if you can tell me uh…”

Nimbus’s eyes went left then right, though each time he offered Rexxar’s shaft a side glance. His own cock was throbbing. And the vulva’s smell was sweeter.

“Rexxar… breed… Nimbus.”

“That’s- HEY!”

Nimbus tried to cry, but Rexxar’s hands, big enough to hold Nimbus’ arms and shoulders, locked him in place. Locked him so Rexxar could lean forward, his lips meeting with the ‘Hozen’’s. And then… His tongue, wider than before, slipped past the lips and tusks to force itself within Nimbus’ mouth.

There was some thrashing, some fighting at first. But then, the overpowering kiss seemed to help the ‘Hozen’ relax. Or whatever it did, the kicking and fighting stopped until Nimbus melted inside Rexxar’s grip.

His eyes rolled, his legs went limp, his muscles relaxed.

And like that, Rexxar pulled back, a long thread of saliva joining his tongue to the ‘Hozen’’s mouth.

“It’s the first time I am… Kissed like that,” said Nimbus, speaking with levity.

A levity that ended with another shout when Rexxar lifted him off the ground while the Mok’nathal sat cross-legged. He put the ‘Hozen’ on his lap, but not only.

The calloused fingers danced, went over Nimbus’ fur, eliciting some laughter at first. Then moans when the fingers met the shaft, barely any bigger than Rexxar’s ring finger.

And then, the ‘Hozen’ broke into a loud cry when the fingers found what they desired.

“Hey… Slow-Slowly! I didn’t have that before! I ne… I never used it, so don’t be rough.”

“Breed. Must,” answered Rexxar.

His hormones spoke for him, rushing and raging, fed by the fire within him. By the life that was flowing through his veins and coming from… Nimbus.

The more Rexxar touched and explored that ‘Hozen’, the more he was certain, the more he was assured. He had to breed that ‘Hozen’.

In return, his shaft throbbed with intensity, rubbing itself against Nimbus’ back and sides while Rexxar’s cunt was spraying the floor between his legs, clenching and tensing… And making him feel good.

Yes, he had to breed Nimbus.

“O-Ok. Whatever I say, you won’t… It won’t make you budge on the idea of using your cock… To fuck me.”

“Must breed,” answered Rexxar with a nod. He did not have the word, but nodding worked.

“Shit… Not like it’s the first time. But… Be… Gen-TLE?!”

No. Rexxar was not gentle. He gripped the ‘Hozen’ by his sides and lifted him off the lap. His fingers dug into the sides, but not with the strength to break Nimbus.

He lifted him and saw the reaction with those furry legs spreading naturally.

It was fine, it worked in Rexxar’s favor as he only had, then, to lower Nimbus and to have him… Impaled on his cock.

Something his lust-addled mind thought simple.

However, there were cries, moans, and shouts as Nimbus told him many things: ‘Bad angle!’ ‘Bad hole!’ ‘That’s my leg!’ ‘Are you aiming at my balls?!’

Rexxar’s eyes could barely focus on the ‘Hozen’. Sure, he noticed that cock throbbing and going stiff, despite Nimbus’ cries. But the more he poked, the more frustrating it was.

He pushed, punched, hit. All until the cries turned into a shrill sound. A shrill outcry from Nimbus’ vulva being poked. Almost penetrated.

“Fu-Fuck!” cried Nimbus, craning his neck and trying to squeeze himself out. “Too big!”

Yes, Rexxar was too big. His cock was almost as wide as Nimbus’ pelvis, or another leg. Even then, stiff and drippy, it pressed against the entrance.

It poked against the muscles, forced against them, forced against the tight entrance until, after much pushing, Nimbus’ cry went to a stop.

His face, contorted by fear, suddenly relaxed… And he almost dropped back, his whole body going limp all of a sudden.

Well, he would have dropped if not for Rexxar holding him steady while he impaled, pushed, and forced more of that cunt to take the length. One inch, two.

“It’s… ahh,” moaned Nimbus, his eyes rolling and saliva dripping from his lips.

His feet were closing much like his fingers, holding onto nothing while his cunt was impaled and yet gushing out those sweet honeyed fluids all over Rexxar’s cock, lubricating it. And more.

It sprayed Rexxar’s hairy groin, his cock, his balls… It filled the air with that sweet scent that sent Rexxar’s hormones raging.

“Must… BRED!” shouted Rexxar, saliva spewing out as he yanked Nimbus down.

This time, he went in. He hilted Nimbus on that cock, impaled him until everything down his pecs was bloated from the Mok’nathal’s cock. And yet, the ‘Hozen’ was no longer showing any signs of pain.

His cunt was wrecked to the end, in an impossible feat. And yet, there was only pleasure on that face while tears streaked down his cheeks.

“Fuck… Feels good,” moaned Nimbus, slurring even as his tongue lolled out.

Yet, with his arms limp and his legs spread open like a doll or a ruined whore, it seemed Rexxar wasn’t done.

After all, he’d only penetrated Nimbus and though his cock throbbed inside the ‘Hozen’, filling that glabrous belly… There was more to do. Much more when breeding.

Sure, the insides were velvety and moist, almost a promise for more… The muscles clenched and definitely embraced Rexxar’s cock, slowing it down while massaging it. But it was indeed clear the Mok’nathal needed more… More when he pulled on Nimbus’ body, his hands under the ‘Hozen’’s pits to lift him off his lap.

Nimbus cried. Nimbus moaned. Nimbus even ejaculated on Rexxar’s groin, covering the thin belly in white.

But Nimbus did not ask for it to stop.

And that cunt, as stretched and abused as it was, continued to clench and grip the cock, almost threatening to prolapse before it let go in a wet pop.

Then, that cunt gushed all over Rexxar, washing down the cum that had dribbled down to his balls.

There was even a hint of yellowish fluids flowing free from Nimbus’ cock and from his clitoris… A hint that was washed away when Rexxar held Nimbus and impaled him down again. Squirt flowed out, precum followed, then white precum.

But it wasn’t over.

Far from it as Rexxar pulled on Nimbus’ chest, lifted him… Only to drag him down. Up and down… Up and down…

That cock, massive and monstrous, was pumping in and out, bloating the ‘Hozen’s belly in a way that was almost threatening. Who could endure this? Who could be crazy enough to endure this without begging for mercy?

Well… Nimbus did not cry, did not beg. He smiled, wholly, entirely. He salivated… And he came.

The Monkey’s cunt clenched each time he came, his body warming up all of a sudden, and a wave of energy hit Rexxar at the same time.

His cock sprayed Rexxar’s body, but each time, it seemed those ejaculations were reaching lower than before, although those ejaculations were more and more potent.

But the obvious contrast was there as Rexxar continued to grow, his body bulging and growing more veiny by the second while he impaled Nimbus on his cock that was as wide as his chest and yet not even hurting the poor ‘Hozen’.

The same wave kept hitting the forest, sending the whole place into a frenzy with long-lasting consequences.

But at the moment, the main consequence was Rexxar’s expression breaking down more and more under his mask, his saliva falling like rain on Nimbus’ face… His grip strengthened while he pumped more… And more.

His orgasm was getting close, but each time eluded him. Somehow, it seemed impossible for the Hunter to ejaculate and get what he wanted from stretching Nimbus’s guts, from claiming his ever-wider and ever-stretched cunt.

Up… Until there was a change.

With his fingers constantly slipping, Rexxar moved his grip until he had Nimbus’ arms between his fingers, the index fingers practically holding onto the shoulders, before he pumped. Differently.

It was no longer a breeding, it was an assault with Rexxar smashing the ‘Hozen’’s posterior against his balls, smashing those thighs against his… And certainly hitting Nimbus’ cervix on the same occasion.

He'd done so. He’d done so since the first penetration, but this time felt different as the distended wall seemed about to break out and… Rexxar did not care.

He hit, smacked. His breath went faster, his heartbeat wild, his jaw dropped.

He howled.

Somewhere, an Orc would speak about a wild beast coming from the depths of the Night Elves' territory, a creature so potent its howl would shake the trees.

Yet, the source was Rexxar as he came, as he filled Nimbus with his ejaculations that were so powerful, so raw, they even stretched his taut belly through the hit before the cum began to pile up and form a nice round bloat nestled inside Nimbus’ cunt depths.

Yet… Rexxar continued, impaled and yanking on Nimbus. He did not leave the ‘Hozen’ any time to breathe or take his respite, as he was fucking it again, and even after shifting position. With Nimbus on his back, on him, below, above, besides…

Nimbus’ expression was of pure bliss while Rexxar’s ravenous breeding had turned the outpost into a den reeking of Orc musk and cum.

The walls were sprayed, the trees were covered. Even the Moonwell’s blessed water had been corrupted by that thick semen Rexxar kept pumping as, after letting go of the ‘Hozen’, he was riding his face.

One hand on the ground to steady himself, another pumping his cock that had grown to a tremendous and threatening size, Rexxar had his plump posterior on the ‘Hozen’’s face. Stuck in a squatting position, the Mok’nathal practically impaled his gushing and musky cunt onto Nimbus’ face, forcing him to lick and swallow the constant flow of sweet honeyed juices that coated that brown fur.

Nimbus himself was partially reaching for his cock despite his strained and bloated belly, stroking and adding more to the white flood that had coated everything… Down to himself, down to his entire fur.

And it was only then, with another orgasm, Rexxar finally slowed down.

After more than a dozen ejaculations, his cock was no longer as stiff. His cunt was no longer as hot. Even his asshole, fingered and teased at times, practically felt satisfied as he stood up, leaving behind a poor monkey whose face was drenched in fluids.

“Must…” he spoke, drained and yet frowning.

The words eluded him as he looked around and at himself.

His body was different, stronger, better. The fire within him had diminished but remained like a promise of another moment of intense heat, of intense rut.

He opened and closed his mouth, though saliva kept dripping from his lips despite him swallowing down. Something had changed.

He went here for something. A weapon or a threat. Something dangerous. But he found something else. Pleasure. Strength… Life itself. Life and breeding.

He looked behind him, looked at the ‘Hozen’. Nimbus. Yes.

That one was bred, as clear from seeing that swollen belly and that cunt that constantly oozed cum. That one was bred and not only. Life radiated from that body… The same life that was now inside Rexxar, inciting him for more.

More breeding, more strength, more mates.

And Rexxar smiled, leaning and grabbing the ‘Hozen’ despite the weak recriminations. There were kicks, there were cries. But there was something sure as Rexxar threw the cum-covered ‘Hozen’ over his shoulders. More needed to feel this. More needed to join Rexxar and breed. Breed all. And everyone.