FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Collecting the Orcs on the way

Rexxar needs bigger whores. Bigger and greener

“Must breed. Water… Orgrimmar.”

The voice echoed beyond the ramparts delineating Orgrimmar. Hunched over and holding onto two smaller individuals, the hulking Mok’nathal wasn’t one to be easily ignored. Rather, his hulking presence was like a looming shadow that even made the grizzled veterans glance before stepping away from his path.

Yet, what truly made them change was the intensity in those eyes. The sheer tension in that jaw… or even that erection that lifted Rexxar’s loincloth, even after another one had been made to cover his modesty, even when erect.

But the Hybrid was still pushing the limits. His body throbbed with power, with might. And with a musk that titillated everyone’s nose before making them tense up and then go erect.

Whoever was in contact with Rexxar suffered from the same heat, the same need. And none other than Gazlowe and Nimbus, Goblin and ‘Hozen’ respectively, were the most impacted. They were not as hulking as Rexxar, but their heavy bodies, with their inflated bellies, showed signs of change. That and the markings on their bellies, drawn with clay paint, and the way they rubbed the stretched green and fair skin.

“Breed. Must… Breed. Water.”

“You are still repeating it, Rexxar. Where are we going?” repeated Gazlowe, following a path decided by Rexxar. With his hands on their shoulders, he didn’t allow them to stray away, even when they entered a metal building and descended steps into the depths.

Precum and cum followed their steps, marking a trail leading right to an enormous cavern under the city. One reservoir filled with water and lit with a few lanterns. Metal scaffolds were stretched over the water source, leading to the different pumps located here and there.

And despite being a critical spot for the city, with the Shamans regularly filling it up with water elementals… There was no one.

No guard to stop them. Rexxar let go of Gazlowe and Nimbus to approach the edge.

“What is he doing?” asked Nimbus, grimacing.

“No idea. We’re… In the water reservoir. No clue what he could… oh.”

“What a-Oh.”

Nimbus and Gazlowe were as impressed and anxious as they watched Rexxar yank away his loincloth, yanking the elongated fabric to expose his large, veiny, and stiff organ. The length was impressive, downright threatening to see.

It was akin to a mast or something even bigger, a fucking log. It was veiny, powerful, with a purple tip. And yet, as Rexxar gripped and stroked it… Cum dripped free.

Not precum. Cum. Sticky, steamy, bright white. And it dripped from the tip onto the… Water.

One touch, one drop, and the ripples went through the whole reservoir before Rexxar turned his eyes towards Nimbus and beckoned him.

An order, something Nimbus followed as he approached… And then he was grabbed by his own erection, forcefully masturbating. All so his own precum and cum would drip down.

“Must breed. Water,” repeated Rexxar, with a chuckle.

-

Garrosh sipped the water, yet… Sweat still dripped over his forehead as he reclined on the chair, watching as the soldiers were leaving in order. It wasn’t a proper war council, merely another of the many meetings for the day-to-day life in Orgrimmar.

Places to secure, crimes to investigate. Yet Garrosh had to endure it as he took one sip and sighed, wiping the sweat dripping over his brow.

“The heat is killing me,” he grunted.

A silence answered him.

Then, he grunted again, turning in his chair to see Thrall still sitting on his throne. Clad in black armor, the green-skinned Orc had a thoughtful expression, his fist against his temple while he observed the map of Orgrimmar displayed on the ground.

“I said… The heat is killing me,” growled Garrosh, frowning and waving his hand, almost like an upbeat youngster asking for attention.

“I heard you the first time, Garrosh,” replied Thrall with a sigh before he raised his eyes and met Garrosh’s. “But there is little I can do.”

“On Nagrand, the shamans could make it rain when the crops were drying.”

“Nagrand is a different land. Durotar is dry and hostile, even to a Shaman,” replied Thrall, shaking his head. “Moreover, we have… Issues.”

“Issues?” asked Garrosh, dropping back into his chair.

“Have you been listening?”

“I couldn’t. Due to the heat.”

Garrosh certainly had been complaining lately. About the weather, about the heat. About the funky taste of the water he was sipping regularly. Yet, nothing was stopping the regular meetings. However, Thrall could admit that the heat was indeed impacting him, too. Breathing was hard, and he often had to wipe his forehead while he was definitely cooking inside the armor.

That… And the constant pressure down his legs, even when he spread them. But not too much lest someone would have noticed his own erection. He didn’t voice it, but Thrall was definitely feeling something was amiss. The spirits were definitely rowdy, much like Ashenvale a few weeks ago.

Yet, this time. It was also different. Guards were definitely acting more lazily. There were more crimes than before, especially around the inns and brothels. And the city had that funk that wouldn’t leave, in the midst of summer.

A situation that couldn’t end here, as Thrall grunted and stood up, despite his tired legs. He grunted, approaching Garrosh until his loins were practically by the younger Mag’har orc. And then, he yanked the water jug to drink from it.

“If you continue to act like this, I shall cease to invite you to my councils,” said Thrall, with a grunt before he grimaced. No, that water definitely tasted weird. “What is that?”

“What? That’s water. Pumped directly from the reservoir. Something is foul…”

“Are you again thinking of an attack from the Alliance?”

“What else could it… Be?”

Thrall noted the break in Garrosh’s words. The Mag’har’s yellow eyes were definitely focused on something ahead. Something on the green Orc who looked down and noticed his own erection. He saw the damp spot; he saw the dark spot formed by his own precum at the tip of his erect cock. And then, as his eyes drifted… he saw the same erection in Garrosh’s pants.

“No need to say any-thing,” grunted Thrall, stopping as he felt something throbbing down his loins. Something that wasn’t… His erection. But he felt the throbbing. And Garrosh must have felt it because he was now reclining in his chair, clutching the armrests.

“Something is definitely wrong. I- Fuck!”

Garrosh’s words died as his erection, damp and drippy, burst. The white liquid, despite the hemp fabric absorbing it, squeezed itself through. Before Thrall and Garrosh’s eyes, Garrosh’s erection was shooting and coating the dark brown pants with his own semen. A musky, steamy, and intense semen.

One Thrall watched before his eyes twitched, and he, too, snarled as he felt his groin explode with pleasure. He felt his nuts were pulled tighter while his cocktip was on fire.

With a roar, Thrall dropped the jug while his cock pressed against his pants and he came.

He came so much, it felt like a hose. One was directed right at Garrosh’s face. Garrosh, who roared and cried. He even threw himself away from Thrall, ready to knock down his chair on the occasion. However, as he did so… The problem was that another orgasm hit Garrosh.

One that was definitely feeling intense because he was trembling and shaking on the ground, as if taken by a fit of grand mal.

A fit that was weird, impossible, and definitely worrying… Well, if Thrall could worry.

Worry despite his own body shuddering again and his pants being ripped before he came again, with his groin exploding. With the sensation climbing up his back like a fire that was now devouring his brain.

He roared, spat, and fell… Sprawled on the ground like Garrosh. But as he dropped, he could hear chuckles of something approaching. No, someone. Two people who approached.

But as he raised his head to see whoever entered the War Room, Thrall was again taken by an orgasm. Again taken by a climax that made his eyes roll and his mouth open, listening to Garrosh’s own orgasm. He, too, was cumming.

And it didn’t seem to stop, not even as a hand reached for Thrall’s head and stroked it.

“They’re definitely ready for this. I’ll get the gear for them,” said a nosy voice. Familiar, though Thrall couldn’t tell why.

And couldn’t care when he came again.

And again… And again… and again. Each orgasm felt more powerful than before, and it didn’t take long for his consciousness to fade out… Replaced instead by the blankness, by the absence, by the deviant silence that was his body’s pleasure, drowning everything down to the most minute of fear.

Alliance? Poison? Danger? The joy and pleasure swept all away…. By the sensation of his cock bursting inside a moist and warm… Hole.

Moist and warm hole?

Thrall’s mind slowly rose back, his body feeling tense… And yet, liberated. No armor weighing him down, no fabric covering his sweaty green skin, or the graying hair all over his arms and chest. He blinked, his eyes finally answering as he heard the sounds.

The chuck-chuck of a machine pumped. The muffled growl of a prisoner. The moans. The suction from someone’s hole.

And then… Thrall groaned, too, feeling his groin bursting with pleasure. Not as much as before, but certainly much more than he was used to.

His toes curled, and his fingers clenched… Though he couldn’t pull on the metal cuffs.

Cuffs?

Finally, Thrall’s eyes focused on a green face ahead before he looked up. Up at the chain linked to the cuffs linking his wrists together. He grimaced, then he pulled on the metal weakly, finding it too strong even though his arms looked different. Bigger.

Then… he huffed as he felt a stab and looked behind him, noticing a box.

“Hey, Thrall, you’re listening?”

Snap snap

Fingers were snapping, forcing Thrall to look in front of him and finally see him. Who had had a familiar voice. Green skin like his, but with a longer nose and a smaller head… Yellow eyes. A five o’clock shadow on his large chin. Finally, Thrall frowned and gurgled.

“Gazlowe?” he asked, slurring.

“In flesh. Sorry for the cuffs, but we’ve been asked to get you ready.”

“We?” repeated Thrall, before he huffed and growled. And closed his eyes.

Again, his groin was pumping, though it was with a hint of pain.

Something he definitely felt as he finally reopened them and looked at himself, wholly.

Somehow, he’d been squatting all along with his ankles joined by a bar. His arms lifted; his body was in tension, though some of it came from the contraption holding him down…

To the machine that was pumping a dildo into his depths, though his ass was untouched… To the metal cinched around his testicles that was attached to another machine pulling his balls away from his body.

A machine placed at the center of the War Room and joined to another pair of reddish testicles, whose owner was hidden behind a… Hozen’s riding him?

Thrall coughed and gargled, then looked at Gazlowe, at the Goblin yanking on Thrall’s nipples thanks to recently-set piercings and a chain joining them.

The Goblin looked different. More muscular, more hunky… More hung.

But so was Thrall as he saw his bulging muscles, the bulging veins under the green skin… And the coiling strength in his arms and legs, his thighs like tree trunks.

Tree-trunks Gazlowe used as footrest while he was definitely impaling himself on Thrall’s dick, in a certain display of balance and strength. Something that tiny body showed to an impressive degree.

Much to Thrall’s surprise, as his eyes widened, he turned his head while pulling on the chains.

“What… What is this, Gazlowe? Free me!” grunted Thrall, echoed by another grunt.

Echoed by the sound of suction when his cock slipped further into Gazlowe’s hole, slipped so much while his own cock was squeezed, massaged, milked… And forced to pump another load until the Goblin chuckled and lifted himself with his feet and one hand.

“No, can’t do. We need you prepared for Rexxar,” said Gazlowe, using his free hand to lift his testicles and cock, lifting those massive green orbs to reveal something behind them. A cunt. Moist, dripping. Reddish. Certainly, the one Thrall had been fucking because that cunt was now dripping on Thrall’s cock with a mix of juices and cum.

“What… Are you saying, Gazlowe?” grunted and asked Thrall, only to close his eyes when Gazlowe lowered himself, lowered his cunt down to have Thrall’s cocktip hit his cervix.

Thrall felt that wall, that presence. But the Goblin did it so without even moaning or groaning. No, he took an Orc’s cock. No, an overgrown orc cock to the cervix without a grunt.

“Fuck. Our new boss needs babes. I can’t bear them for him, I think… Nor the Hozen. But he figured you’d be good at this. You, two.”

“… T-Two?” growled Thrall, raising his eyes to see beyond Gazlowe, beyond the Hozen… And right to a familiar brown-skinned Orc.

Garrosh’s eyes were wide with rage, though his tatted jaw was stuck due to a ring-gag. He’d been bound like Thrall, but he certainly looked far more irate than Thrall, who was more shaken and… Certainly tired as Garrosh was roughly milked.

“You… Captured us? Release us, Gazlowe!”

“No, can’t do, Boss,” replied the Goblin, bouncing on Thrall’s cock before he decided that was enough, and he jumped off…

Jumped and had one foot landing on Thrall’s scrotum, onto the stretched cords joining them to his testicles, pulled away.

It should have hurt, and Thrall cried… But he definitely felt it not as pain but pleasure, sheer pleasure as he cried and came, creamed the center of the War Room and Gazlowe before he reeled from the orgasm… And his head dropped heavily, his breathing raw.

Raw and shaky while he watched his own testicles, looking like watermelons, being squeezed so far away from him… And with Gazlowe poking at them.

Roughly.

Even poking at them was nothing but pleasure for Thrall as he grunted, as he came… As his enormous cock was shooting cumshots after cumshots while the same was happening to Garrosh.

He, too, was constantly cumming and had that Hozen riding him up and down like a tree.

“This… It's crazy. What… How?”

“The water,” replied Gazlowe, with a chuckle. “We’d spiced up our way. And now, everyone in town is turning into a slut. He’s probably out collecting a few cunts and making sure he’ll have more sons around.”

“He… Who? Rexxar?”

“Aye,” replied Gazlowe, with a smile as he reached for his own cock to give it a few strokes before he grunted… And blasted his own load. “Boss wants cunt. Told him you’d be the best for that. Strong, powerful. Hung. Though… Giving a cunt is the hard part.”

“Cu-Cunt?” asked Thrall, groaning and cumming again, his legs clenching. “What… Cunt?”

To this, to that question, came a chuckle.

Not from Gazlowe, but the Hozen who’d been riding Garrosh. The Hozen who patted the Mag’har Orc’s face before he jumped off. But as Thrall saw it, he, too, had a cunt between his legs. One definitely wrecked and stuffed, as seen by that pregnant gut the monkey had.

However, he walked with a relative grace as he turned at Gazlowe.

“Hey. Should I show him?”

“Yeah, sure. You show Thrall, and I show Garrosh. Good deal, Nim’?”

“Good,” replied the ‘Hozen’, giving the Goblin the thumbs-up before he approached Garrosh, and Gazlowe did the same.

Thrall followed the Goblin, yet his eyes were drawn to the grunting and roaring Garrosh, seeing how angry and frustrated he was… And Thrall’s brows lifted as he observed the Hozen make the Mag’har turn and twist on his feet, forcing him to show Thrall his back.

Before, with a rather rough touch, the ‘Hozen’s spread Garrosh’s buttcheeks.

His asshole? Untouched and virgin, as on his first day.

But beneath? There was something else. A firm hole that was definitely placed behind Garrosh’s pulled-down-and-further scrotum. A hole that was not only gaping but dripped like a honey pot. A cunt. A vulva.

Something so unexpected on a Warrior’s body. But something not only visible, but even bearing a silver piercing where the clitoris ought to be.

“A… Hermaphro-Hey!”

Thrall roared, too.

Something in his taint had been removed, and the chuck-chuck had stopped. But in return, it felt as if he were empty. It felt like a part of him had been carved, and now there was a gaping hole behind his testicles.

A gaping, aching, burning hole that could only be satisfied by something as warm… Definitely much warmer than the stale air of the hold.

He continued to gasp before he turned to Gazlowe, who grabbed his lower body and… Forced him to turn and twist, to have his testicles pulled even further before he had his buttcheeks spread and air rushed to that place never felt before. Never experienced.

Garrosh’s muffled cries echoed behind him, an outraged recrimination… That led nowhere. Nowhere as Gazlowe released Thrall’s body and made him turn back so the two orcs were again facing one another, their erections pointed at one another.

“Don’t worry. It’s weird at first, but you’ll get used to it real quick.”

“To… A cunt?” asked Thrall, at a loss for words.

“No, to getting it wrecked. We’ve gotta have you trained, or you’ll break in two like a twig. He’s grown a lot!”

Thrall’s eyes closed for a moment, with sweat dripping on them. But as he reopened them, he saw Gazlowe was waddling away, leaving behind a trail of Orc cum… Before he returned, holding something that ought not to be a cock.

But it was certainly phallic, with a defined glans and down to the testicles. The problem was that the thing was wider than Thrall’s thigh.

“That’s the biggest model I found in town. Made for breeding heifers. But it’ll be the same for you! What do you think, Nimbus?” asked Gazlowe, turning to his fellow.

“I’d say… We need bigger,” replied the ‘Hozen’, with a cheeky smile, ignoring Garrosh’s outraged cries.

“Heh. Let’s hook them on it and then decide how it goes,” replied Gazlowe.

Thrall’s jaw slacked while he watched that toy being waved between the two like a threat, before Gazlowe stopped, huffed… And then approached the green Orc.

“What do you think? Is it too small?”

“It’s… I think it’s too big. Gazlowe! Stop this. Help us get out and fix… What you’ve done!”

“It’s too late for that, Thrall. But don’t worry. Contrary to that, Hozen, I’ll be gentle.”

“I’m not a Hozen,” grumbled the ‘Hozen’ behind, though he went away in the same direction from where Gazlowe found his current toy.

“It’s never too late. You can stop this folly,” continued Thrall, following Gazlowe as he moved around. In the background, Garrosh continued to cry. But for the moment, Thrall decided to ignore him as he focused on the Goblin who went behind him.

He tried to shake his body, to shake his legs. But it was only in vain and made his body flare before that cocktip, so wide and powerful, pressed against his entrance.

Against that burning and crying out entrance that had been bereft of attention. Abandoned, left alone… And now, given something.

Given something to close on, given something to hold onto… And Thrall moaned.

His mouth opened, and his eyes closed for a moment as he could feel his cunt being forced. Then his cry turned into a roar as that glans, so big, stretched him wide.

So wide, it felt like his legs were breaking and his pelvis alongside it.

“It’s… Too big!” cried Thrall, between his teeth. Next, he felt a pop… And that glans was inside, like a knot. Only the glans… But already, the Orc was at the limit, sweating and his eyes rolling.

His skin glistened with sweat, and even his green skin had a clearer tone as he was still reeling from the pain, the pleasure, the penetration. His body… His body wasn’t used to the sensation. No, more than that, he’d never been used to being penetrated as such. Or to be taken.

And as his mind was recovering, as he was blinking and catching sight of his own cumshot across the map, and onto his stretch-out nuts… Thrall saw the glare from Garrosh, the silent disdain from his fellow, before he shook his head and growled.

“What? Do you think… You can do better?” he asked, only hearing a huff as an answer.

However, Garrosh certainly changed his tune when the ‘Hozen-not-Hozen’ strolled behind him while carrying another dildo and prepared it.

Before his eyes, Thrall then saw the expression on Garrosh’s face shift: fear, terror, pain, pleasure, and then a mix of everything at once with the Orc’s half-closed eyes twitching in a snarl.

Garrosh could be cocky and proud… But it was definitely a sight to behold as Garrosh’s grunts came higher and higher before his head dropped and… He came, too.

He came, and Nimbus chuckled behind him. And so did Gazlowe.

“Oh. That’s good. But we ain’t done,” said the Goblin, appearing while presenting a remote.

“Wait… Gazlowe. What are you doing?”

“Getting you prepared for the boss,” said the Goblin, pushing on the big red button on the remote. One single push, and the two Orcs roared, followed by the chuck-chuck of the machine.

-

“Damn. He’s taking his sweet time.”

“What? You’re complaining about it?”

“A bit. Wish he could pump more into me. My cunt is aching.”

“Imagine how it’d be if I didn’t prepare those plugs for us.”

“True.”

Thrall’s eyes opened and closed, with sweat dripping over them. No, sweat dripped over his face, over his snot-filled nose. His hair was detached and disheveled.

Ahead, Garrosh didn’t look as good as his eyes were still rolling, and he was salivating all over himself. But the chuck-chuck continued.

And Thrall could see the massive bulge formed by the Dildo inside Garrosh’s belly, watching the machine pump that dildo in and out without a break. Meanwhile, Gazlowe and Nimbus were taking a break while sipping milk.

Sitting on rocking chairs, they were definitely enjoying this, clinging to their glasses filled with white milk while the rocking chairs' movement was… less than pleasant.

Not when those same chairs were strapped to the Orcs’ testicles, pulling on them thanks to more pulleys. Each time the chairs rocked forward, they pulled on the Orcs’ testicles, making them grunt and howl and moan… Before the skin's tension pulled the rocking chair back.

It wouldn’t have been possible with another species. But Gazlowe and Nimbus were on the lighter classes. Though they looked definitely bigger than normal.

And definitely more perverted, as their libido pushed them to more perversion while waiting.

Thrall himself could only look at his chest, at his tits with the pumps attached to them. He could only peer through them to see his belly being stretched by the dildo pumping inside him. And perhaps… Perhaps he could see the last pump attached to his cock, milking him.

However, he didn’t have to focus much to see what was happening to him. Whatever happened to him also happened to Garrosh beforehand.

And at that moment? Garrosh looked much curvier than before. His chest sagged heavily, pumped and milked, while the white flow followed the tubes right to a storage unit beside Gazlowe and Nimbus. Another storage unit, in the room’s corner, stored the Orcs’ ejaculations.

In the meantime, the two perverts were sipping their milk while commenting about everything and nothing. Taking bets about their changes, how long until Thrall’s tits were at the perfect shape to please Rexxar. Or how many Ogres bastards would he have sown on Orgrimmar before his return?

Bets and brief exchanges Thrall listened to while his head often dropped from the exhaustion and the pain… And the pleasure.

The same pleasure shot through his groin as the pump around his cock activated, and all the shots were added to the translucent tank that was halfway full.

“S-Stop…” he groaned, feeling his chest getting heavier, despite the pleasure of having his nipples leaking and then sucked on by the sweet silicone cup.

“Oh! Hey! Thrall! You’re awake!” said Gazlowe, turning his head.

“Stop this… There will be no punishment. If you free us now,” groaned Thrall before he moaned, and again came. His testicles were now much bigger, too. So much bigger and worse, he could feel the cords joining them throb as if those nuts were now pumping that cum right through him.

“Ah, again with that, boss. Too bad… I think Rexxar’s back.”

“The smell? Yeah?” added Nimbus, before Gazlowe turned and nodded.

Then, Thrall looked around.

The War Room was a mess of dildos and toys. Of toys of different sizes that had been incremented over the hours, culminating in the ‘thing’ now stretching Thrall’s cunt.

But as he looked around, he heard grunts and looked to the entrance. Gazlowe and Nimbus did. Even Garrosh did. And as Thrall’s eyes fought to remain open, he looked at a hulking presence at the threshold.

A large shade, with the head covered with a pelt… And nothing more. Not even a loincloth to cover the raging erection between the man’s legs. A raging and dripping erection that was pointing ahead while its owner growled: “Breed.”

“They’re ready! Look at them!” said Nimbus, waving towards Thrall and Garrosh.

“R-Exxar?” gargled Thrall, definitely eyeing the Mok’nathal.

However, Rexxar looked different. Bulkier, heavier, taller. He was closer to an Ogre in size and even taller than most. His body was ridiculously muscular. And that strength bulged with every movement from Rexxar as he looked around… At the machines, at the toys strapped to the Orcs… Then at the two.

“Breed. Breed new toys.”

“Sure, do as you want. But take care about the machi-Hey!” cried Gazlowe.

But it was pointless.

Much like a force of nature, Rexxar grabbed the pulleys, and the weights attached to the Orcs’ nuts before he snapped them. The tension in the scrotum eased, and Thrall almost sighed. Garrosh definitely did, though his expression shifted when Rexxar approached with his throbbing erection.

No, he even screamed despite the ball gag before Rexxar’s left hand closed on the chains tying Garrosh to the ceiling, and… he snapped them.

Thrall blinked, but he saw Rexxar snap the chain before grabbing Garrosh’s arms and lifting him like a puppet, making the Mag’har roar as the dildo inside his cunt was pulled out… Leaving the machine pumping that toy upward while the leaking Orc looked like a used doll, the limbs dangling heavily. Much like the pumps that were removed, revealing the pumped-up nipples, and the definitely swollen cock.

A terrible vision, almost like a broken toy. Yet, the worst was to come as Rexxar’s eyes turned to Thrall, with a lust that couldn’t be ignored.

“Breed.”

“Rexxar! Release us! This has to stop!” roared Thrall with renewed vigor.

However, the plea wasn’t answered. No… Instead, Rexxar grabbed the pumps attached to Thrall’s body and forcefully disconnected them, leaving Thrall’s plump tits and cock sore. Next, he grabbed the chain and broke it before Thrall was lifted and then had that cock pulled out.

Much like Garrosh, Thrall roared and closed his eyes…

But soon, his cunt was left abandoned and gaping. It ached, it burned, it tried to wink and close on thin air without result. As for the ruined interior, as for the wide pink tunnel? It gaped obscenely, ready to be fisted and fucked while Thrall and Garrosh were aligned, back to back on the ground.

“Breed, secure,” groaned Rexxar, turning to his two acolytes. And to the ‘Hozen-not-Hozen’ who nodded and saluted before grabbing a double pair of manacles. Manacles, he closed on Thrall and Garrosh’s wrists altogether.

“Breed… Good,” nodded Rexxar, satisfied as he went on all fours, his fists closed like some gorillas as he crawled closer to the two, sniffing them.

He sniffed Garrosh first, who groaned and grunted. Then, he had his nose come close to Thrall, going over his neck and face.

“Rexxar. Snap out of it! You are cursed, or ill.”

“Breedable.”

Thrall stopped at Rexxar's answer. Then, he looked at the Mok’nathal, who shifted his posture, grabbing his shaft with one hand. And despite his utter size, despite his massive hands that could crush Thrall or Garrosh’s heads… Even that hand wasn’t enough to wrap itself around Rexxar’s cock.

A cock that definitely looked similar to the one employed by Nimbus and Gazlowe. Yet, there was something much daring in the bright and drippy end, in the angry throbs shaking that organ… Or from the steamy and musky precum that was dripping from it.

A musk that was starting to permeate the room and make Thrall and Garrosh squirm. Not only from the massive length that was stroked. But how caustic it was for their minds. How their thoughts were starting to muddy up… And how it was easy to… Open their mouths. To breathe, to relax, to ease themselves.

Even Thrall was impacted, his breathing slowing down and his eyes half-closing despite having that cock pointing at his exposed ass, at his gaping and stretched-out cunt. At that entrance that wouldn’t close on its own anymore.

He didn’t gulp. He didn’t squeak.

No, in a strange state of mind, almost an out-of-body experience, Thrall watched Rexxar’s cock approach his posterior. He saw the constant dripping, felt the warm liquid being sprayed on his posterior. And then… There was the touch that brought him back.

Once more, he felt the ache from his nipples, from his cock, from his entire body. And amidst this, he felt that cocktip press against his entrance. He felt the cocktip spray his insides with precum. He felt, sensed, experienced a whole different sensation as his cunt was… Getting stretched.

As he could sense his clitoris, newly acquired, being teased and pulled on while the skin itself adapted to the massive cock. The humongous rod that was now squeezing itself through Thrall’s labia and…

That felt good.

For a blissful second, Thrall forgot everything. What he was supposed to do, what had led to this, who was fucking him. Who he was.

For a blissful moment, Thrall was nothing but pleasure as he moaned and his cock shot, spraying the ground and the map on it while his jaw dropped and so did his tongue. He moaned, his body shuddering while that cocktip was going in, squeezed itself through and… With a ‘pop’, it knotted itself within him.

Thrall’s toes curled while his fingers clawed at his own palms, his body shaken by that surge of sensations… By that fullness that went further as Rexxar grabbed his waist to steady him before leaning forward… And approaching his brutish face to Thrall.

Rexxar wasn’t beautiful by the Orc’s standards. He was a pariah. A hybrid. Someone who was a source of opprobrium, many would say.

But at that moment, when that massive and wide tongue slipped out of that mouth… Thrall wanted nothing but to suck on it, to feel it inside his mouth and crush his throat from within.

An utmost lust that was rewarded when it happened.

When his mouth was forced open; his face relaxed, his eyes rolled. He moaned despite his breath being reduced to a trickle of air while saliva was dumped into his throat.

He gurgled it down, his throat clenching around the tongue while that saliva descended into Thrall’s stomach and eased it… Made him relax while that cock, that humongous cock, was continuing to push further… To stretch him, to widen his hole beyond what he’d been prepared.

It was delightful. It was pleasant. It was addictive for the Orc as his cock continued to shoot. His balls were now so far from his body, like a weight attached to his groin with a loose scrotum. But those orbs seemed to throb and pump the cum that ascended through the tubes before it was shot and then sprayed all over the map…

Well, the first one.

Not those that followed since the ‘Not-Hozen’s mouth closed upon his cocktip to suck on it while his hand reached for one of Thrall’s breasts to squeeze and pinch it.

It was an assault on the senses, an eerie moment of grace in which Thrall felt like he was on cloud nine, cumming endlessly while that cock was going deeper, bulging his stomach deeper… It could have stretched for the entire eternity; it could have been his entire life. But.

“W-What?”

Thrall’s moment stopped. His mouth was released and… he felt that Rexxar’s cock was pulling back. Behind it, it left a cored-out, bruised hole… One that ached not from the abuse but from the lack thereof.

An ache that brought Thrall down from his high as he blinked and heard the grunts and growls behind him. One glance over his shoulder, and he saw the furious glares from Garrosh.

“What? Are- Are you angry?” he grumbled, then looked away to see Nimbus now latching onto his nipple while stroking his cock. “Oh… Milk the other nipple.”

Again. Garrosh growled and groaned.

Once more, Thrall looked over his shoulder while listening to Garrosh’s grunts, growing anxious. He saw the Mok’nathal approaching with his rod. With that monster of a cock. Then, he watched as Garrosh’s nostrils dilated and the Orc was shaking and moving, and thrashing despite pulling on the manacles secured to Thrall’s wrist.

Garrosh definitely looked like he was about to flee… But one instant after, he moaned through the ball gag and relaxed.

His eyes rolled, his breathing eased… And it seemed Rexxar was inside, definitely grunting and growling like a rutting beast. But Thrall eyed his Mag’har counterpart.

“Did… Was I like that?” he asked, surprised by how sedated Garrosh was.

“No. You were worse,” chuckled Gazlowe from behind Rexxar and Garrosh. “We were all the same. Stunned the first time. But it’s easier after the first breeding.”

“The… First breeding.”

“You’ll see. You’ll soon be pumping Ogres babes!”

Thrall’s eyes widened, but then, he looked at Garrosh. He saw the happy tears on the Orc’s face; the mouth contorted in a stupid grin. Then, he looked at that belly that had bulged so much from Rexxar’s cock.

And then… he hissed, feeling cold air brush against his cunt. Making its aching presence worse. Much worse. So much worse, the Orc shuddered, sick.

“Oh… Spirits. Wh-What is this?”

“He didn’t breed you. Cold turkey, aye? I wouldn’t wish that on you, Thrall.”

“Ho-How does it stop?!” cried Thrall, his heart throbbing while all the pleasure he had been experiencing from now was vanishing, leaving him… Craving.

“You need to have Rexxar impregnate you. But he-“

“REXXAR!” roared Thrall, his voice high. “I-… I NEED YOU TO BREED ME!”

It was stupid; it was an admission of weakness.

But nothing was worse than that to Thrall: torture, torment, even isolation. There was something very different as he cried and shouted, shaking his posterior. His mind was accustomed to all sorts of pain. But it had never been inured to being stripped of that pain… Only for it to be bestowed back.

Old wounds badly healed, soreness from age. And the ache from that cunt.

It was all coming back like a tidal wave that pushed Thrall to cry, to roar, and to get Rexxar’s attention until the Mok’nathal stopped slobbering on Garrosh’s face to turn to Thrall.

“Breed?”

“YES! YES! DO IT! BREED ME! DO IT! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE THE PAIN STOP!” cried Thrall, his voice intense and his eyes almost bloodshot.

His face was even redder, with a slight brown tint around the cheeks, as he watched Rexxar growl and then pull back.

Garrosh returned from the high because he grunted, at first in surprise, then in anger. But he, too, began to roar when Thrall was getting kissed again… And had that cock back inside him.

Back stuffing him, and taking away all the worries, all the troubles, all the pain he might have had. And instead, gave him all the pleasure he needed.

His cock hardened again, throbbed, and shot within the same second.

His nipples flowed endlessly, feeding the ‘Hozen-not-Hozen’ who sucked on them greedily while squeezing them. And his cunt happily clamped on that cunt while that cock pushed further and further into him… Crushing his inner walls while more than half of it was inside.

Half of a cock that was almost as big as his legs, and yet went inside without any pain, without any wound, without… Any restriction.

No. It was pure bliss, and Thrall’s face showed it as he drooled again, as he was happily sucking on that luscious saliva while barely heeding the cries, the shakings, the muffled roars behind him.

And then… The ‘Crunch’.

“BASTARD! YOU’D BETTER BREED MY CUNT TOO! GIVE IT TO ME!” roared Garrosh, having bitten through the ball gag in a display of tenacity and anger. A potent display that definitely attracted Rexxar’s gaze and attention because the Mok’nathal pulled out once more… And stuffed the blissful and moaning Garrosh.

A Garrosh who was definitely ignoring Thrall’s growing anger and frustration until Thrall’s cries and admonishment coaxed Rexxar out of the Mag’har cunt to have him back into him.

And so, they fought for his attention.

Too satisfied to have two cunts for the price of one, Rexxar wasn’t minding it, though his movements were becoming more brutish each time he penetrated one or another.

His cock was spraying cum further and further, while over three-quarters of the length could fit inside them until it found the wall… The edge, the limit.

By then, the two Orcs were arguing.

“DO NOT TAKE IT FROM ME! I NEED IT MORE THAN YOU!” roared Garrosh.

“I AM THE WARCHIEF! I NEED TO BE FUCKED FIRST!” retorted Thrall.

Meanwhile, Gazlowe and Nimbus were chuckling, yet messing with the two… Pulling on their nipples, playing with their cocks… or even impaling themselves upon it while the two Orcs were at each other’s throats.

A pathetic display, one would say. But one that was telling much about the effect of Rexxar’s musk and aura around him… Around the perversion, the Mok’nathal exulted as he finally settled for the first… And fucked Garrosh’s cunt.

This time around, Thrall roared and shouted.

But Garrosh wasn’t even answering, sucking on the Mok’nathal’s tongue while those enormous testicles were smacking against his buttcheeks, bruising them. Like boulders, they hit and pulverized any resistance from Garrosh with their powerful hits until Rexxar, with a roar, fully inserted his cock within Garrosh and then… Stopped, crying out in bliss and in defiance to anyone or anything to stop him.

A primal and defiant roar that made Thrall’s anguish and needs worsen as he could feel the heat from that pumped cum, the smell from that claimed cunt… And watch the same semen inflate Garrosh’s belly until the Orc looked stupidly satisfied.

It wouldn’t stop. No. Rexxar was definitely taking his sweet time to penetrate and stuff the Mag’har, making sure that belly bump would remain before he pulled out and… grabbed the first thing at hand to stuff it inside Garrosh’s cunt to stuff it.

Something red Thrall saw like a flash before his eyes locked on Rexxar’s still hard cock.

“Come on! It is my turn! Breed me! Rexxar! Breed me!”

“Breed,” replied the Mok’nathal, gone feral as… Indeed, it was Thrall’s turn.

It was Thrall’s turn to have that monster of a cock pressed against his cunt and then forced through. It was Thrall’s turn to feel that massive rod slip inside his cunt and then enter it until that cocktip pressed against his cervix.

And it was his turn to watch and experience as Rexxar’s thrusts were a pummeling, a brutalizing assault onto his cervix, trying to coax it open.

Thrall might have regretted it. Or perhaps he would come to regret this.

But as Rexxar grabbed and squeezed his nearest breast until it sprayed milk all over the room, as that cock was piercing his cervix… And those balls were leaving red marks on the Warchief’s green buttcheeks; No, Thrall didn’t regret this at all.

He was all moans and cooing and groaning, his mouth gulping down the saliva from Rexxar while the Mok’nathal breached through that cervix and pummeled the depths of Thrall’s womb, beating the walls until the pressure and the friction were enough to get him going… To get him heated up, then pump, then shoot… And to have his semen flood Thrall’s womb.

In that moment, the Warchief was lost. His entire body was wrecked.

His limbs twitched and wouldn’t answer to any order while his mind was blank… Even his eyes rolled, as it was obvious he wasn’t there at all… As he wasn’t the Warchief anymore.

He’d been claimed in that instant, with his cervix forced through… And with the pain entirely gone, he wasn’t even aware of the pressure growing into his cervix, the flow of cum reaching for his ovaries and for any eggs on the way…

He didn’t know or notice the strange markings painted over by Nimbus, nor saw that the pearlescent ink was now glowing in the shape of a womb tattoo over his belly.

But he was aware of the lack… or the absence.

Thrall only felt two things, warm and throbbing inside his cunt, while faintly hearing Rexxar carrying something around. Meanwhile, Gazlowe and Nimbus were arguing. Then… he felt those powerful arms wrapping around his swollen guts before he was forced to sit… On Rexxar’s lap.

“What is this?” “A coup d’état?” “Wait… Are they eunuchs?”

Thrall’s eyes barely focused, but he was now… Aware of where he was. In front of Grommash Hold, in front of a crowd of soldiers and braves from the Horde. And yet, looking like a whore. Pregnant… Stuffed, much like Garrosh, the Mag’har Orc stirred.

Stir and then moan when Rexxar forced him into a kiss, and the Orc moaned… Came… And had his cunt dilate enough to push out two red boulders out of it: his own nuts.

Rexxar had stuffed their nuts inside their cunts to plug them… And now, as he kissed them, they were pushing them out, releasing a flood of cum in front of a crowd, onto the very place where Thrall had claimed the death of many enemies of the Horde.

“Rexxar! Breed!” roared the Mok’nathal, smacking each of the Orc’s bellies, as they writhed, came, and sprayed milk everywhere. “Rexxar! Breed Thrall! Breed Garrosh! Breed Orcs!”

The Crowd was stunned, but more so as Garrosh and Thrall smiled weakly, chuckling like idiots.

“Rexxar breed Warchief! Rexxar Warchief! Rexxar breed Horde!” he roared… His cock was again hard and ready to pump more Ogre into Orcs cunts.