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Miatha entered the rustic shack, a humble hut which would have seemed out of place under the majestic halls of Shattrath, if not for the plethora of similar hobbles spread throughout the lower quarter. To Miatha, this was just another thrown-together home, housing another run-down, down-on-her-luck crone looking to settle a score, or save a lost love one, or find some ingredients, or what have you. There had been endless requests for help in some way or another, and the young Tauren entered this building to find an older Tauren with another yet another task.

"Sadila?" Miatha asked quietly, looking the older woman over, noting with distaste that one of her horns had cracked off. Miatha's horns were pristine. This particular down-on-her-luck crone wore a tattered cloak, quite at odds with the full array of plate mail Miatha was wearing, covering most of her reddish-brown fur. Her shoulder pads were ornately covered in spikes that were of a level with her ears â€" they were a bit too gaudy, and sometimes she wished she could just take them off, but the magical enchantments on them were strong and invaluable.

The old woman responded affirmatively with a croaking voice, and Miatha quickly accepted the old woman's quest, not caring particularly about the details. She was to go to the Netherstorm and defeat a particular netherdrake to recover a lost amulet. In exchange, Sadila was offering a pair of plate boots, or some other items of which Miatha had no interest. She added "Netherdrake" to her checklist of things to do next time she visited the Netherstorm, and mounted her war hippogryph (she'd done a number of quests for the Cenarion Circle because they paid well, and she'd had nothing better to do) to get to work. The Outlands wouldn't save themselves.

* * * * *

The wild netherdrake relaxed in his roost on a floating island of large crystal shards off the coast of the Netherstorm. He had taken the name Nestor when he broke away from the others, deciding to follow his own agenda and avoid the major conflicts brewing. He was a dragon, and not interested in the ways of mortals. It turned out that Nestor's agenda was pretty simple, but that suited him just fine.

He had found the deserted island in a few days of searching, and had been impressed by the large crystal-lined cave in the middle. It had proved an excellent home, with protection from the raging storms outside and two entrances, one on ground level and one along the roof. If you couldn't fly, the front entrance was the only way in.

It was this entrance the large, green-black dragon watched as he waited, his hunger growing. He was always expecting company from eager heroes hoping to make a name for themselves or claim some material reward. This was in part because he had taken to kidnapping helpless damsels like the night elf lying naked in his wooden, magically warded cage. It was so easy to fly out at night, grab a tasty morsel and return without incident, and any such kidnapping would certainly result in a number of altruists coming to save her.

He kept eyeing the young night elf woman, though her apparent youth was surely an illusion. She could be a thousand, a hundred, or ten thousand as far as he knew â€" certainly older than he was. Netherdrakes were a rather recent creation. But old or young, she was his now, and he was growing hungrier by the minute. Perhaps the night elf had had few friends, and no one was going to come to save her. That would certainly disappoint Nestor â€" he could easily eat four or five night elves before being sated, far more than he could carry during one kidnapping. He waited eagerly for a rescuer to arrive, but if no side-course arrived soon, he would have to be content with just her.

For her part, the night elf hadn't lost hope â€" that was a good sign that someone cared for her. She had cried at first, and pleaded with him, and now she could see him glancing over at her sleek body, the perfect shape and size for his long neck. These furless creatures slid into his gullet in such a satisfying way, once stripped of their inconvenient clothes and armor. He couldn't help but lick his lips, salivating in anticipation of his next meal. She tried not to look when he drooled over her.

But he must remain strong. If he ate her, magical scrying would show that there was no longer any girl to save, and her would-be rescuers might not come. Someone will come, he thought, walking willingly into his home, forfeiting his or her life in a vain attempt to save Nestor's dinner from her inevitable fate. And then he would have two soft, satisfying meals instead of one. He grinned, watching the elf tremble in fear. He would not even have to unhinge his jaw to swallow her alive, when the time came.

And the time came, but much later than the hungry drake would have liked. Armor clinking loudly, announcing his arrival, a male night elf stood in the entrance to the cave. He appeared to be alone, which pleased Nestor. One elf would stand no chance against the might of Nestor. The female called for help, finally daring to hope, but her hopes would soon be dashed.

The netherdrake leapt into the air, flying above the helpless warrior, who hastened to draw a bow. But such weapons were nothing to Nestor. He was stronger than most drakes and already could utilize his breathe weapon, a fearsome arcane wave of devastation. He opened his mouth and sent a cone of netherbreath down upon the hapless elf, buffeting him against a nearby crystal. Dodging an arrow, Nestor flew down quickly at the injured male, spinning to hit his adversary with his large, strong tail. The would-be rescuer flew across the cave to hit the wall painfully, and he did not get up.

Nestor quickly approached the dazed elf, ignoring the plaintive screams of his captive â€" probably she recognized this elf, and if Nestor knew anything about night elves, he was probably her lover. It turns out the elf should have let this girl be, because this rescue attempt would be his last. With powerful claws, the drake forcibly removed the elf's armor, sending his sword clattering across the cave floor. He raked the helpless elf, who was struggling to stand, to resist the large dragon. Claws tore off his clothing, scraping him just enough to leave red welts across his body, not even breaking his skin. His boots were trickier, but some well-placed magic slid them off the male, who now lay naked before Nestor, struggling to flee.

The warrior was even more helpless stripped of his magical trinkets, and the netherdrake laughed as he held the squirming creature against the hard floor of the cave with one paw, turning his head to gloat at the caged female weeping in terror. Grabbing his new prey with one hand, he lifted the struggling warrior into the air, who was too terrified to even plead for his life. Making sure that she had a good view, Nestor opened his maw, giving the warrior an even better view. His almost triangular jaws gaped open, revealing double sets of jagged white teeth and a large pink, lizard-like tongue. Though he was able to unhinge his jaws, and his neck had a rather serpentine quality to it, drakes were actually much more like lizards than snakes. And like his superficial relatives, he preferred not to use his teeth when he could avoid it. Nestor stared into the male elf's eyes, absolutely fascinated by the terror and dread and hopelessness he saw there, as his prey obviously stared into his mouth at the dark, black entrance in the back of his throat. The elf had stopped struggling, paralyzed by the sudden realization of his imminent doom.

Nestor did not want to waste any time â€" it had been days since his last meal, and though he relished the chance to play with his food a bit, he felt he must satisfy his hunger first. He still had another captive. With a pleasant grin, the netherdrake lifted his next meal high into the hair, dangling him upside-down by the feet. He cocked his neck back, looking up at the elf, opened his great maw again, and began slowly lowering the insignificant creature toward his waiting stomach. He kept an eye on the female, who was trying in vain to break the magical bonds on her cage, weeping hysterically as she watched her lover's last moments. For his part, he had come to senses when he started nearing the drake's dark gullet, and started struggling again, screaming aloud as he was lowered into the evil drake's mouth.

Nestor did not slow the elf's descent as the man thrashed out, trying to strike the drake's teeth or tongue, a frail excuse for resistance to his inevitable fate. His female counterpart had given up, lying in a heap as she watched with wide eyes as her lover disappeared into the drake's mouth. It was only moments before the elf's screaming was cut off, muffled by the netherdrake's warm neck. With his prey's head lodged firmly down his throat, Nestor released the elf's feet and began to gently swallow, using his powerful peristalsis with the help of gravity to pull the man to his destiny. All of the small creature's life was building up to this moment, to end up in the belly of a creature greater than himself.

Pulling the elf downward with his massive tongue, he could not help but taste his food's salty, naked body. He salivated, coating his prey, making him slippery to glide more smoothly down the dragon's throat. Nestor's tongue pressed up against the elf, who was already struggling for breath now that his head was trapped a good two feet within the reptile's neck. With his tongue, Nestor could tell the elf was quite hard, aroused by the sensations overwhelming his body. Nestor grinned, knowing that this sort of development was more common than one would expect. Something about oxygen deprivation caused these prey-humanoids pleasure, not to mention the wet, lubricated pressure his tongue was applying to the elf's entire body.

Nestor obliged the doomed elf, slowing his descent in order to run his tongue up against the warrior's struggling body, wrapping it between his legs. The drake didn't mind the delay for two reasons. First, the woman could still see her lover's feet, peeking just outside of Nestor's jaws. This was giving the poor creature just a slight amount of hope as she wept and wailed. He knew that once the male disappeared completely from view, the female would lose all hope, and be much less entertaining. Second, he enjoyed sending his prey into their dark abyss fully satisfied, with conflicted emotions, uncertain of everything except that in a few minutes, nothing would matter anymore. It aroused the drake himself, as must be plainly evident to the weeping widow.

It was only a moment before Nestor's skilled administrations were enough to bring the Night Elf to climax. Even as the asphyxiated elf began releasing his pitiful payload into the dragon's mouth, Nestor began swallowing in earnest, his jaws unhinging slightly with each gulp while the female screamed. She watched, helpless as her lover descended further and further into her captor's gullet, able to see the bulge in Nestor's neck sliding smoothly down until it disappeared into the drake's belly. It had been far too long since he had had a good meal, and his stomach had retracted a bit from disuse, but the elf warrior made a satisfying lump in his abdomen. Nestor shut his mouth, licking his lips, before setting his sights on the horrified, hopeless female.

He had been so focused on his food that he had not noticed the stealthy entrance of another guest, flying in from the lesser used roof entrance. A regal hippogryph glided down behind a nearby crystal formation, her rider dismounting to watch the netherdrake with interest. Miatha had no interest in saving the foolish Night Elves, and sat down to wait until her quarry had eliminated them.

Nestor crawled over to the wooden cage, his erection swinging proudly underneath him. His hunger temporarily sated, he decided he could have some fun with the helpless woman. He lay on his back next to the cage, and reached a hand through the feeble bars to grab the terrified, naked elf in one claw. He pulled her out of the cage, dispelling the magical enchantments that had bound the poor elf for days. But her troubles ended today. He set the elf on her knees between his massive scaled legs, staring a foot from his genitals. Each of his testicles was nearing the size of the woman's head, and his curved, barbed cock stood firmly a foot and half, tapering at the tip, but six-inches wide at the base. The frail elf was far too small to take him in, but there were other things she could do.

"I have two hungers, Night Elf," he spat. Rubbing his belly where her lover lay bulging, he said, "One is currently sated. If you can satisfy the other before the first returns, I will let you go." He grinned at the look of disgust on the elf's face. In truth, he was already hungry enough to eat such a pitiful morsel as her, so her task was impossible.

The elf approached him slowly, surprisingly unhesitant. He knew her plan, and he was careful to keep his hand around her waist so that she could not attempt to escape. She reached his throbbing organ, and pretended to reach for it, but instead she swung her elbow with all her might, striking him hard in his melon-sized balls. She was startled by his reaction: he cackled. "Dragons do not leave their most sensitive organs so unprotected. I admire your bravery, but all you are doing is losing time before I seek another meal..."

She spoke, a novelty for him, as the elf had been completely silent after the first few hours, when it became clear that her pleading and dealing was having no affect on the beast. "You won't get away with this...beast!" she wept, "Someone will end your life, mark my words, and soon!"

He pushed her against his penis, hissing slightly in pleasure. "I'm getting hungry..." he warned, ignoring her irrelevant threats.

Defeated, humiliated, and hopeless, the creature placed her hands on his glistening, green organ. She did not trust his words, but every moment she delayed the inevitable was another moment she might be rescued. Surely a monster so vile must have many enemies. But though Miatha was there, watching, the elf would not find salvation from the Tauren. As far as she was concerned, the Alliance was on its own.

Nestor lay back, pressing the elf between his legs as she ran her hands along his length. Only above the halfway point could she, with both hands, span his entire girth. She ran her hands gingerly across his barbs, and though it felt good, her efforts were half-hearted. Some of his captives had gone to it as if their lives had depended upon it. Successful or not, they had all ended up absorbed within the large drake. The elf started licking him so pitifully that Nestor gave up completely on this one. She had apparently felt very strongly about his recent meal, and could not summon the courage or desperation to satisfy the creature she hated more than any other in the world. He was disappointed â€" he enjoyed the humiliation they suffered and their hopelessness after bringing the great beast to orgasm, only to be grabbed and swallowed anyway.

Instead, he would humiliate her another way, by bringing her to her own climax, even as he sent her to her doom alongside her warrior mate. He pulled her into the air, leaving his cock neglected, saying, "A shame your would-be rescuer was so frail. You have lost the race, elf, and it is time to join him." She was startled by the suddenness of this development, having expected him to try harder to make her please him. She screamed as he opened his large mouth, realizing her time truly was running out. She wished she had been more enthusiastic with the monster's erection. This was the moment he relished second most (after the feel of a creature sliding finally into his warm, dark, stomach), when his prey finally understood that their fate was to end up in the belly of the beast. He muffled her screams, placing her upper body in his mouth, her face pressed up against his wide tongue. Only her rump and legs remained in the chilly air, dangling helplessly from his maw.

He pushed his tongue out of his mouth to cup the young woman between the legs, slathering her genitals in slippery saliva, using one hand to spread her legs apart for greater access. He moved his free hand between his own legs to continue where she had left off. She struggled inside his lips, trying to push away from his wide, pink tongue, but all she managed to do was coat herself in slobber. She would be warm inside his mouth, pinned by his massive jaws, every inch of her skin wet. He began sliding his tongue back and forth, sliding smoothly along her body, rubbing against her face, neck, breasts, and then poking outside into the chilly air to slip between her legs. Nestor knew that, try as she might, she could not ignore the pleasure he was providing her, her own body betraying her unending hatred of him. He chuckled, realizing her hatred would soon end as she became forever a part of him, joined with her former elven lover together with Nestor in the best, closest way possible. She should thank him.

He made no effort to swallow the woman, not yet. He needed her to find release in the bliss that was her final act on this harsh earth, to taste the fluids that would prove her absolute submission to him and her fate. His lips and tongue formed a seal that would find the elf soon running out of oxygen, and through her daze and adrenaline, he knew the powerful stimulation he provided would take her to her climax. He tasted the first traces from between her legs â€" she may be more cooperative than he had expected.

Meanwhile, Miatha had seen no display like this one in her entire life. She watched as the Alliance elf dangled helplessly out of the masturbating drake's mouth, and could see the elf thrusting herself involuntarily against his powerful tongue, moving ever closer to the peak of sexual excitement even as she was being devoured alive. She had known the Night Elves were notorious for their sexual proclivities, but this was ridiculous. Though Miatha found herself strangely aroused by the display. She watched quietly, not willing to interrupt.

Nestor grinned, feeling the feeble elf struggling in his mouth, now not to escape, but to satisfy her lust. She wrapper her arms around his tongue, pressing her breasts to him and thrusting her hips. Surely she still had enough air, but it seems the stimulation alone was enough to win the elf's desire. How it must bother what was left of her mind to realize that her last act in life was one of submission to him. He could feel her struggling, ever nearer her blissful climax. When he sensed she was ready, he wrapped his tongue firmly around one of her legs, tilting his head back and opening his jaws. She screamed again, the sound echoing throughout the crystal chamber, but not a scream of fear. As she slid inexorably into his mouth, her legs slowly disappearing from view, she began to shudder, moaning in ecstasy. She was oblivious to her rapidly deteriorating situation as she began to orgasm, the salty taste of her fluids sliding down his tongue along with the rest of her. She was delicious.

Her descent continued as she reached his open throat, sliding head first into that dark tunnel, still moaning. In moments he had swallowed her completely, sending the thin elf down into his neck, where she made a pleasant bulge. With each gulp, she slide further down his neck, her orgasm finally wearing off. He imagined her inside of him, trapped in a wet, dark tunnel, bathing in the pleasant afterglow of sex, silently weeping at how helpless she had been. From the moment he had swooped out of the sky to grab her, to her days-long imprisonment used as a lure for her lover, to her inability to do anything but watch as he was devoured alive, to her sexual submission to Nestor, he had been in total control.

Nestor was quite satisfied, though his throbbing erection spoke to at least one disappointment â€" he would have loved to have coated his prey in his own seed before forcing her to take her last plunge. He could take care of that on his own, however, as he smiled. With one last, powerful gulp, the struggling, confined form that was still a Night Elf was forced down into his belly, joining her warrior friend. Soon she too would asphyxiate, joining her partner in eternal slumber. They were no longer elves â€" no, they were food.

He leaned back against a rock to rest, patting his bulging belly, licking his lips, and letting out a satisfied "murr". He was feeling surprisingly sleepy, and decided his cock could wait until after a comfortable nap. He drifted off quickly, comfortably full. Little did he know that at that very moment, his surprise guest was preparing to strike!