Patreon LogoYour support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)

Grab Life by the Horns [Massfanatic/Squish]

Admiral Squish

Super-Earth
Joined
Feb 1, 2009
Ashenvale's ancient trees stood as they always had, standing silent vigil over the forest below. Their broad canopies entwined, blanketing the forest below in a state of perpetual twilight. These ancient trees have seen countless struggles, be they fought for conquest, for reclamation, for survival, for revenge, or even for more abstract reasons. And today, another struggle waged on in the twilight of ashenvale. As they always have, the trees simply watch, and remember.

Five orcs, clad in wolf-fur, iron, and leather, stand in a rough pentagon, axes and swords ready and eager for blood, eyes trained on a single figure in the midst of them. A sixth figure, a huge, black-furred and black-horned tauren, shirtless but for a leather harness and iron shoulder-plates stands outside the ring, bearing a massive hammer in both hands. The head is easily as large as a human's ribcage, but the powerful arms of the tauren swing it easily. In the center of this group stands a second tauren. Huge and broad of shoulder, every inch of the seventh figure is covered in thick, overlapping plates of silver-gray material. Lines of blue glow outline each plate. The figure's features are completely hidden by a thick silver-gray mask. The only exposed portions are his long, ivory horns and his broad, steel-shod hooves, which even now twist in the soft earth, planting themselves. One three-fingered hand grips the hilt of a massive broadsword. The blade and handle together are almost as long as one of the orcs is tall. A square cross-guard is marked only by two short spike jutting toward the weapon's tip. The pommel bears a similar spike, jutting the other direction. The blade itself is incredibly thick, probably two feet across. At the very end it flares out, a crescent-shaped blade on the very tip, the points of it toward the handle, the better to chop, cleave and catch. the other three-fingered hand tightly grips the handle of a massive shield. Some six inches thick at the very center, a human could stand behind it and be completely invisible. A glowing blue orb rests in the very center, like an eye judging those before it.

The black-horned tauren speaks first, breaking the tense silence of the forest. "You have run far, pale-horn, but your running ends here. I will take your head to Crone Magda as my prize." He sneers. The figure in the center of the ring of orcs didn't move, but a rich, baritone voice rolled out through it's face mask. "You are right on one count. There will be no more running. But it is I who will send your skull back to your crone. If the wolves haven't taken your tongue by then, you can tell her that the same fate awaits all her assassins." the black-horned one's face contorted in rage, and a deep, animal roar escaped his lips as he raised his massive hammer high. As one, the six warriors descended on the pale-horn.

The palehorn raised a leg high and brought it slamming down. The earth shook with the force of his hoof's impact, arcs of electricity rolling out from the point of impact and coursing up the legs of all six. Then the same with the other. But instead of lightning, this foot brought forth sound. It was like thunder, the sound echoing through the trees. The earth heaved, waves of it rolling forward and slamming into two of the orcs and the black-horned tauren, knocking them from their feet. The massive sword came around in an arc, at chest-height. an orc was stopped in midair, axe raised overhead, as he suddenly found his legs were no longer attached. The massive weight of the blade barely noticed this bisection, and continued on to clang loudly against the shoulder-plate of a second orc, knocking his charge-off balance and sending him tumbling past. As the third closed in, the shield came up and out in a sudden jerk, that glowing blue orb crashing into her face with a sickening cracking sound. Her axes flew wild, spinning through the still mist. From behind him, now, came the three from the first strike, swords ready. The two orcs slashed in a synchronized fury, huge, heavy swords slamming into his armor, scraping over it's plates, driving him back a step. Then came the hammer. Right in the small of his back, the massive head of the hammer struck hard, ringing his breastplate like a gong and delivering it's force directly to the tauren within it. As the two sword-orcs came in for a second push, the shield came up before him, and his hoof slid to a stop in the loose earth, finding an anchor on a tree root. It was all he needed. He pushed the shield forward, driving the two orcs back. His sword came down on the nearer one at a diagonal, sliding a full foot into his chest before it stopped at his sternum, blood fountaining from the gash that spanned from shoulder to chest. The tauren ripped the blade free, as the second sword-orc cried out "BROTHER!". But he couldn't turn fast enough. The one who had fallen before rose to his feet, thrusting his blade into the tauren's ribs from below and the side. By some miracle, the biting point of the sword slid between the plates and into the tauren's back. He lurched in pain, but he could not afford to pause. He pivoted on his anchor, forcing the blade out of his body, blood now pouring down his side from the wound. It felt like it punctured a lung. As he turned he dipped his head, catching the warrior off-guard with his namesake horns. One gored into the orc's abdomen, and with a mighty hurl, the palehorn sent him airborne, ripping open his belly, his intestines already unraveling through the breach. The hammer struck again, this time down on the warrior's shoulder, nearly dislocating his sword-arm. He let out a gasp of pain, blood now leaking through his steel mask. The sword had definitely taken him in the lung. No time to think, just to fight. He had to finish this before he lost too much blood. The second swordsman came from behind, swords raised high to slam the tauren into the earth in a fury. But the tauren's sword was bigger, and it came across just above the top of the orc's head. The orc looked vaguely confused as it saw it's arms tumble past it's head, hands still clutching their weapons. It let out a panicked scream as blood fountained from it's useless stumps, showering both tauren in crimson. The hammer came down yet again, but this time the shield came up in time. It rang like a gong under the blow, and the palehorn let out another gasp as the force resonated down his arm into his wound. But he gritted his teeth against the pain and pushed up and back, knocking the hammer wide as the sword came up and around. But the blackhorn was fast, and the blade met the hammer's handle, sparks flying where they connected. The blackhorn hopped back, trying to regain his stance, but the palehorn wouldn't have it. He pressed forward, delivering another mighty stomp, once more sending the earth itself roiling up to slam into his foe and knock him off his feet. The blackhorn swore as he fell. the palehorn was not one to delay, slamming one steel-shod hoof into the blackhorn's chest, forcing the air from his chest. He swung his sword up and around, pivoting the grip, until the crescent end pressed to his throat. Then, all the palehorn had to do was lean forward and let the blade do the work.

the battle won, the tauren picked up the hunter's head by one of his long, black horns, and carried it over to the only member of the hunting party still breathing, the axe-wielding orc woman. He dropped the bloodied prize unceremoniously onto her chest, her former employer staring at her with dead eyes. The palehorn simply looked at her. "Go. Run to Thunder Bluff and tell Crone Magda that her second grandson is dead by my hand. Tell her that I will wipe every trace of her bloodline from Azeroth, and nothing she does will stop me." He didn't even wait for confirmation before he tromped off through the undergrowth.

Breathing hurt. He'd definitely hit a lung. As soon as the tauren was out of sight of the orc, he began to cough, spitting up copious quantities of blood inside his helmet, which leaked out through the grill over his mouth. He had to get somewhere safe where he could bandage his wounds. But as the adrenaline slowly left his system, he grew weaker and weaker. His vision grew hazy, indistinct. Had to bandage himself quick. Had to stop the blood. His large hands reached for the clasp of his breastplate but even with feeling in them, the thick digits were slow and clumsy with the clasps. Now that he was starting to go numb, he could only fumble at it. As darkness closed in around the edges of his vision, he had to gasp for each breath. Had to... stop the.. bleeding... Had to... survive... But the last of his strength had left him. His armor was so heavy... He fell, first to his knees, then tumbled forward, splayed out on the path as his blood pooled beneath his massive form. And all the while, the trees watched, and stood silent.
 
RE: Grab Life by the Horns [Pearlheart/Squish]

“Now come at me!” Dalii’s shouted. Her younger sister lunged forward, spinning her lithe body into a thrusting knee strike. Dalii’s, or more conveniently; Dal, smacked the blow away with her palm, and twisted around her sibling. Hooking her arm around her bare waist, using both of there momentum to throw Mal’yz away from her.

“Augh!” Mal grunted as she lost her balance and hit the ground. Her younger sister didn’t look much like her, that was due to different fathers. But she was every bit as beautiful. Both of them only wore simple loincloths and chest wraps during their training sessions. And sweat glistened off both of their supple, violet bodies. Of course mal was a more vivid shade, closer to violet. While Dal was a deeper purple. Plus, Mal had almost aqua hair, short and layered, while Dal had dark bluish hair, tied up in a pony tail.

“Again!” She said with a smile. Mal grinned and spun from the ground, unexpectedly sweeping her legs from under her. She fell to the ground and before she could recover, her little sister straddled her stomach. Dal’s heavy breasts were ballooned up against her sisters thighs, and Mal quickly leaned back, pressing the weight of her hands onto Dal’s thighs.

“Gotcha! Submit!” Dal smiled.

“Don’t get cocky sister!” She arched her back, even though this hold was very good, she still had the superior body to her sibling. And she was able to lift her off the ground, and twist, forcing the younger woman to fall sideways. Then she used their combined momentum to spin around her, unfortunately Mal was quick to do the same. The result was a sweaty grappling match that lasted several minutes, as they constantly reversed each others holds. Finally after what seemed like forever Dal emerged victorious, with her sisters face firmly clamped between her thighs.

“From this position I can suffocate you, or snap your neck sister. Submit!” After a few moments of struggling, and a lot of grunting, Mal went limp. “Very good.” Dal fell of of her and sat down, resting on one arm in the damp grass. Mal came up, breathing hard before looking at Dal with a grin.

“I almost had you several times!” Dal smiled warmly and scooted over to her sister. She pulled her into a hug.

“True. You are getting much better. In fact I’d say you’re almost as good as I am now. Pretty soon we may be able to take on mother!” Doubtful, before she trained Mal, their mother trained the both of them. Every day they sparred like this, and every day their mother beat them easily.

“Right. We’re still a hundred years early for that….” Mal was a little more honest about their chances. And it brought a weak laugh from Dal.

“Maybe. But you know…” She said as they separated. She reached over and gripped one of her sisters breasts, giving it a firm squeeze and lifting it slightly. “During that hold earlier, with my thighs around your waist from behind? I just realized how much you’ve matured!”

“I know right? Pretty soon I’ll be bigger than you!” She arched her back and stretched her arms backward to accentuate the size of her bust. That really wasn’t true, but Dal humored her to keep her spirits up. In fact Dal was almost twice Mal’s size. But Mal was nicely shaped as well.

Suddenly a crash echoed through the woods. The distinct sound of metal on metal. Following it were the cries and crashes of a battle. The kinds of sounds that did not come from the natural denizens of the woods. Both of them jumped up. Why all the way out here? They were a long way from Splintertree. There should be no horde presence this far out. Dal looked at Mal’yz with a worried expression. Mother had moved them out here to get away from the wars and politics surrounding life beyond the woods. She was if anything supposed to protect her sibling from such influences, but she also was obligated to investigate. At the very least to know what was coming. There wasn’t time to escort Mal back to the home.

“Mal! Get your bow! Follow me and be silent!” Dal took off, scooping up her spear as she ran through the forest with the grace and nimbleness of a Saytr. Mal followed behind her with equal skill. And in moments they burst into a clearing, the battle had already finished it seemed. Corpses lay all around, all of which were Horde. She heard Mal gasp, this would be the first time she’d seen such a sight. But there wasn’t time. She searched for tracks and found two blood trails leaving the clearing. “Mal! Follow!” She shouted and took off after the trails. Very quickly she spotted two figures. One laying on the ground, the other standing over him. The standing one was a female Orc, wielding a pair of axes over her head, ready to finish the one on the ground. Suddenly an arrow screamed past her shoulder and slammed into the side of the Orc’s neck. Dal looked at Mal in horror.

“Mal!” It was too late. Her sister had acted out of instinct and fear, and now this enemy was theirs as well. The Orc roared and snapped the arrow off, then turned and charged them. This was bad. The Orc was no doubt more skilled as well as much stronger then both of them. “Mal fire!” She shouted and charged her opponent. If she was fast enough, and her sisters arrows could put the beast off balance then she had a chance. She dropped down and slid across the slick grass between the Orc’s legs. An arrow from Mal put the warrior off balance enough for Dal to come up and thrust her spear into her back. The Orc roared again and swung around, smacking Dal with the handle of her axe, and throwing her to the side. The blow nearly snapped her neck, and send her flying into a tree. “….mal’yz…” She groaned. And just as she was watching the Orc rush her sister, six arrows shrieked out of the woods in rapid succession, each one driving into the back of the warriors skull. That accuracy….had to be mother.

With a sigh of relief, their mother stepped into the clearing. Her long bluish white hair flowing with the breeze. Mal feinted from stress, and Dal passed out at the same time from the blow she had taken to her head. And their mother sighed deeply. She called upon her druid magicks and transformed into a Furbolg, as she would be unable to carry both of them with her normal strength. However a groan from the Tauren caught her attention. She stepped over to him, and held her claws to his throat, considering very strongly to kill him. In fact she had watched the entire ordeal, even with her daughters. She had stayed back to evaluate their abilities only. But now she found herself fascinated. She wondered what could have made his brethren attack him? Was he a deserter maybe? If so then an army was nearby. She needed to know. So unfortunately, she could not yet take his life. With a groan she hefted his large body, even for a Furbolg he was a hard lift, but she eventually got all three of her charges in hand and made her way back home.

The presence of this Tauren and the warriors who had attacked him disturbed her, and kept her mind deep in thought the whole trek to her home. Her dwelling was carved carefully into a massive tree, using the arts of her ancestors so as not to kill it. It's bough spread fifty yards in each direction, creating a well shaded clearing beneath it's leaves where only thick, spongy moss grew. The moss had a bluish green color, and was enhanced by the deep emerald foliage above. The vibrant reddish-brown bark of her home finished the picturesque scene, and it calmed her every time she returned. She was forced to return to her normal form, as her Furbolg body could not fit inside. First she carried her daughters inside, then returned outside with all the necessary materials to begin healing the Tauren, after seeing to the bruise on Dal's head first. He was badly wounded, barely even alive, but he was alive enough for her to save him. Even if she may only kill him later. She was forced to strip off his armor, and lay him out on the moss. Once removed she inspected him thoroughly. He was in incredible physical condition, even for a Tauren, which was most likely the only reason he still lived. She moved her hands deftly over his body, checking his muscles and applying pressure to see where he was bleeding internally. As she reached below his waist she paused a moment before lifting the massive sleeve that hid his phallus, then without breaking her stern countenance, lifted his weighty ball-sack to check for cuts to his thighs. She had not concerned herself with men for many years, and she had no need to start now.

Soon she began mending his wounds, sealing the gashes and applying a hearty combination of herbal salves, shaman magic, and medical knowledge to stabilize the powerful warrior. Cat'ya, or more commonly known as Cat, was just finishing with the large torso wound when Mal woke up and joined her. The young elf immediately froze when she stepped outside and saw the Tauren laying there naked. Her mother so calmly working on him, in such close vicinity to his...male parts.

"If you have time to stare, you have time to help." Cat said plainly. She knew what was going through her daughters mind, and it wasn't going to happen. The Tauren's life...and livelihood was in her hands, and those hands were both skilled in healing....and pain. Mal silently sat beside her, trying so very hard not to stare, and failing. She didn't really know what to say, so she remained silent for the duration of the healing. Once finished Cat fetched a blanket and placed it over the Tauren. "He will be safe outside, besides, he won't fit through the door unconscious. Come on. I have some things to tell you and your sister....and I need you to listen closely..." Seven days passed, the Night Elves tending to the beast, ensuring he couldn't die before they had answers. In this time Cat did not stop them from spying on him, nor tending him even when he did not need it. They were both young, and had little experience with the outside world. She wanted them to work out that curiosity healthily, before what she might have to do when he woke up.
 
RE: Grab Life by the Horns [Pearlheart/Squish]

While at first it may have seemed that the tauren's armor made him seem much larger, once he was free of it it became clear that the vast majority of his impressive size was natural. His body was incredibly muscular, even for a tauren, and even when slack, they were hard as stone. Even totally naked, he certainly didn't look like the kind of man you would want for an enemy. Blood matted down his fur here and there, centered around the joints of his armor and the deep wound in his side. The uneven, ragged black fur concealed a dense network of scar tissue. And since magical healing closed wounds cleanly, leaving no scars except for the most deep gruesome wounds, it was clear this tauren had been without it for the majority of his career. There were sharp, clean lines, wounds from bladed weapons. Star-shaped patterns, wounds from spears. Jagged, arcing lines, wounds from blunt, rough weapons, things that tore at flesh as they glanced past. Jagged, parallel lines, wounds from a beast or monster's claws. Here and there were larger patches, scorched free of fur. Likely from some sort of magician, or a fire-breathing dragon. The tauren's hide told a tale full of pain, full of battle, full of self-reliance and perseverance.

Once the danger to his life had passed, the tauren's sleep became more and more fitful as the days wore on. At first, it was just brief groans now and then, then progressed to rolling and shifting. As the end of the week approached, the bouts had progressed to weak mutterings, thrashing, kicking, and painful-sounding groans. Many times, the mighty tauren had managed to fee himself entirely from the blanket, leaving him completely exposed on the soft moss. And while at first, the healing process left him too weak to spare the blood, by the end of it, his member was 'flexing' every few hours as he slept. The meaty cock arced proudly through the cool air, like a steel shaft. It was almost the size of a night elf's arm, the flared, flattened cockhead reaching almost the underside of his broad, powerful pecs. Sometimes, it would spit grape-sized dollops of clear, sticky precum, which coated the monster, giving the smooth black flesh a glistening coat.

Finally, as the afternoon of the seventh day wore on, the tauren began to stir from his long sleep in the night elf's clearing. The first thing he was truly aware of was the feeling of the soft, cool moss beneath him. It felt... nice. But before he fell back out of consciousness, he realized he felt the softness on his fur. WHERE WAS HIS ARMOR? With that his eyes snapped open, then immediately regretted it as a shaft of sunlight peeked through the boughs high above him and speared into his newly-opened eyes. The tauren cursed, loudly, quickly squeezing his eyes shut to block the pain of the sudden light. He slowly opened his eyes the second time, this time letting them adjust to the brightness. He found himself in the forest, on his back staring up at the boughs of a broad-canopied tree. He followed the branches down to find a reddish-brown tree, obviously sculpted and pruned into a night elf's home. He'd seen a few of them before, but never quite this close...

He tried to rise, only to pause for a moment as pain lanced through his chest when he tried to roll forward to a sitting position. The pain reminded him. The fight! There had been a battle. Five orc hirelings and Garrosh Grimtotem. He lived through the entire fight all over again in a single instance, his arms remembering the wight of his weapon as he swung it, the pain of the orc's lucky stab, the heavy blows of Garrosh's hammer, the hot, metallic taste of blood, either his own or another's, he wasn't sure. He remembered handing Garrosh's head to the orc woman. He remembered losing blood quickly, the busted lung, the world slowly fading... then nothing. How long had be been out? Tor that matter, how was he still alive? He hadn't bandaged the wound, clearly, so he had to have been rescued by someone... He looked to the tree-house. A night elf? Healing a tauren? Unheard of. He struggled to rise to his feet, his iron-shod hooves sinking into the soft moss as they supported his bulk.

He looked this way and that, his mind awhirl with questions. Where was he/ Where was his armor? His sword? If he could just get his armor and sword, he would be able to handle whatever came next. He was vulnerable like this. Unarmed. Naked. He would be easy prey for a hunter or a roving... Naked? He looked down, confirming that. Yes, he certainly was naked. Why would someone take his underclothes? He raised a huge hand, pressing it to the side of his head, one thick finger on either side of his horn. Too many questions... He stuck out his other arm, using it to catch himself as he leaned forward against the night elf's tree-house. He was getting dizzy from all the stress, combined with the massive blood loss not long ago.
 
RE: Grab Life by the Horns [Pearlheart/Squish]

Both Dal and Mal were equally fascinated with their new charge, even though their mother had explained everything to them, and they understood he was the enemy. They couldn't help but be curious. He was something they hadn't seen before, something they couldn't see without traveling hundreds of leagues through the forest and into hostile territory. But he was here, in front of them, and of very little threat in his current condition. And since they had to tend him anyways, they both thoroughly sated their interest. At one point Mal was changing the salves on his wound because he had shifted in his sleep and pulled it back open. Even though she kept moving his phallus aside, it kept growing firmer and springing back in place. She'd never seen one before, not besides on Satyrs and Furbolgs anyway. So it was unnerving. It nearly reached his chest, and the balls alone were almost as big as melons. Even though she had never seen one, the idea of one so huge on a male Night Elf was absurd.

Eventually she couldn't help but touch it, just to see what it felt like. The skin was soft, slightly rough on the top, while very smooth on the underside. Veins as thick as her fingers ran it's whole length, and his strengthening heartbeat could be paced easily through them. At one point she ran her hand down it's underside, and to reward her a large globule of sticky cream spat out the end onto her other hand, which hand been leaning on his sternum. The smell was immediately noticeable, the fluid filled the air with a hearty musk like nothing she'd ever smelled. What was this? It wasn't urine...she'd have to ask Dal, she'd actually been with a man before. She ended up toying with the mess for several minutes before remembering her duties. She went to wipe some sweat from her lip, forgetting about the stuff on her hand, and smeared it across her mouth.

"Oh gods...." That was....Mal quickly wiped off her hand and finished up, her face now vibrantly blushing a darker shade of purple. She didn't know if that was supposed to happen, but that flavor awoke some unfamiliar feelings in her abdomen. She ended up leaving to the nearby stream, hoping the cool water would refresh her suddenly very hot body. The next day Dal had her own experience, one she had not prepared for

"You are fine Dal..." She would say to reassure herself. Unlike Mal, her interest was much more shameful. She knew a mans touch, even if it was only once. She knew the ecstasy that came with said touch, and the feeling of being filled with that mans heat. But her first had not been remotely close to this Tauren's size, and it aroused her. She couldn't help it, but every time she tended to him her eyes wandered. Not just his cock but his body too. It was a storyboard of abuse and combat, as well as being in incredible condition. His powerful chest was bigger than a ale barrel, his abs rippled with muscle and not an ounce of fat. His arms looked like they could crush her without even meaning too, and of course it always came back to his genitals. Once at night she sneaked out to sate her repressed thoughts. She knelt beside him, checking to make sure he was not awake. Once satisfied she slid down to his hips, and slid her hands over his heavy shaft. She sighed, unable to resist. He happened to be quite hard at this moment, so she lifted him up and leaned over, her nose only centimeters from his flesh. She inhaled deeply, moving over his length, absorbing his rich scent. Then she dropped him and stood quickly, embarrassed by her own actions. This was beyond shameful!

Cat watched the entire time, she saw all of her daughters curiosity play out with this creature. The sight of her beloved girls experiencing such sensations stirred something long since buried in herself, but she was in control. Her body, her desires, she knew them well. Besides, the Tauren reminded her too much of another she knew long ago, someone Mal wished she could have known more than anything. She sighed, and prayed this beast would be nothing more than some rogue or criminal, and she'd be done with him soon. Fortunately the next day he awoke.

"You might want to lie back down." Mal said to the Tauren as he staggered around, finally coming to lean against their home. She was sitting in a branch, only ten feet from his head. He seemed even more impressive awake, as his muscles moved in a more pronounced way, and every twitch was visible. "You are far from fully healed beast. And you are even further from safety." Before he could respond Dal entered the clearing below their homes broad canopy.

"She's right Tauren. You are here only by necessity, not mercy. You will want to save your strength for our mother. She will be back soon...and has many questions for you." Dal said sternly as she carried the body of a large wild boar to the tree and dropped it on a large stump. Normally they didn't kill many woodland creatures, but this boar had grown very large and was driving away many of the natural dwellers in these parts. So it's death was to preserve the order. And it's meat would sustain them as well.
 
RE: Grab Life by the Horns [Pearlheart/Squish]

The tauren's head swam as he leaned against the tree-home, shaking his head softly. there were too many questions, and not enough answers. Suddenly, he heard a soft, melodious voice. His ears flicked upward, and he whipped his head up, his eyes falling upon the graceful figure of a night elf. He took two quick steps back, hooves sinking in the moss as he pulled his hand away from his head and brought it's brother up to meet it. Both hands balled into fists, which he raised defensively before him. Armor and weapons or not, he would not go down easily.

At first, he couldn't tell what the elf girl was saying. But he quickly began to pick up familiar snippets, and piecing them together, he realized she was speaking common. While few members of the horde spent enough time among the humans to properly learn their language, the tauren had been on the run for a long time, and met a wide variety of characters. He'd picked up common while working in Booty Bay as a dock hand. Once he realized what he was listening to, recognition soon followed. But the elf's words were far from comforting.

But before he could raise his voice in protest, another voice rang out behind him. He spun on his hoof, the iron shoe tearing up the moss in a circle where he pivoted. Not surprising, considering it was dealing with some 800 pounds of tauren muscle. The pivoting motion had an unintentional side-effect of making his flaccid member swing around with it's momentum, smacking against ohs thigh before settling in to swing hypnotically between muscular thighs. His fists stayed up, ready to defend against a sudden assault.

He narrowed his eyes at the new elf. With his eyes now open and not hiding behind a titansteel mask, it was now noticeable that his eyes were an unusual color. Blue, to be specific, but not a human's blue. A deeper blue, with just a touch of green, the color of the sea. And now they flashed with the intensity of the maelstrom, a turbulent window beneath the calm, controlled surface he presented.

His eyes darted over to the boar. he regretted that decision as well, because the boar looked quite good, and going an entire week without food, even a week asleep, had left his stomach quite empty. As soon as he though about the boar, his stomach reminded him of just how empty it was, and not too subtly. The tauren's footing faltered again, but he caught himself quickly, re-digging into the moss. He refused to leave his hooves now, not without getting some answers from his 'captors'.

A moment of silence settled over the clearing, before a powerful, baritone voice rolled out of the tauren's barrel-like chest. The sound was rich and deep, and his speech was colored with an accent the girls had never heard before. "Who are you?" He asked. "Where am I? Why have you brought me here?" He continued, his tongue growing more confident in the disused language with each word. "Where is my armor? My sword and my shield?" He pressed, glancing left and right around the clearing, before once more looking to the elven girls. "Were you the ones who patched my wounds? Why did you help me? Why haven't I been bound, or killed for that matter?" He probed, his words growing louder. "And by the Earth Mother, why am I naked?!" He finished strongly, nearly shouting the final question.
 
RE: Grab Life by the Horns [Pearlheart/Squish]

Both the girls noticed the rippling of his muscles as he moved, the tightness of each sinew as he prepared for combat, and the heavy swing of his phallus as he turned. But they refused to make their attention known. It was shameful, and as their mother had described, would only give their potential enemy ammunition to use against them. 'Give nothing of your mind to the enemy, and the enemy will have only their own to pit against you', were her words to be exact. Which was somewhat difficult to accomplish, but they managed.

"We are Night Elves. And until I decide otherwise that is all you need to know." Cat's rich, mature voice could not match the sheer volume of the Tauren's words, but it rivaled his intensity in every aspect. She walked calmly into the clearing from the direction behind the Tauren, and neither slowed her pace nor faltered before him. She had a marvelous poise that spoke of her experience, one that was matched only by her exquisite features. "You are here because I brought you here. I did so because I need answers, answers I will draw from you either with civilized conversation or using methods even your kind would consider distasteful." She continued to close the distance until she walked right by him, passing only a foot from the massive male. As she joined Dal in preparing the boar, she continued talking, plainly laying out every answer to his questions, so there would be no misunderstandings as per his situation. "Your armor is in poor condition, but is safe. Your weapon and shield are far out of your reach until I decide whether you will need them or not." After helping Dal begin the gutting cut, she turned to face her prisoner.

"We all tended your wounds, as well as dispatched the Orc who meant to finish what the rest of her kin failed to manage." She sat down, leaning on a small clear spot on the stump. "Once again, we helped you because I need answers. You have not been bound because you have nowhere to run. Even had you your armor, weapon and shield, you would not survive against the Satyrs fifty paces beyond this grove much less the countless leagues of Alliance territory that surrounds you." Her eyes moved to his genitals, then back to his face. "And you are naked because your clothing is beyond repair, as well as I find this view appealing. And you will maintain it until I grow tired of looking." Both Dal and Mal tried very hard to keep their composure. They had not expected to hear such a comment from their mother, and it was hard to digest. Of course it was false, intended entirely to keep the Tauren off balance. Many men were uncomfortable completely nude, if he was so then this course would keep him off balance. If not, then nothing was lost. 'Give your mind falsely to the enemy, and if he wields it in battle, then he wields a trapped blade.' Another of her philosophies.

"Mother? Shall I start the fire?" Mal asked, dropping from the tree.

"Yes dear. I'm sure our friend is hungry after his ordeal, we shall see if his mood suits being fed." With that Mal headed to the back of the tree, where a protected hollow had been formed where they could stoke up an intense fire, or even smoke meat without risking setting fire to the tree or the woods. "Dal. Hang up what we don't use tonight. We should be needing it later."

"Yes mother." Dal said obediently. With that Cat turned back and moved close to the Tauren, then reached out to touch his wounds, unconcerned with his reaction. If he attacked, then she would simply rip open his chest wound again, and let him bleed this time.

"Your wounds have sealed superficially, but are far from healed. You risk much just standing so tautly. I would suggest you sit at least, if your pride will allow." Again she left him, and sat against the stump once more. "Now. As for my questions. Willingly or not I will have answers. First, why are you so deep in Alliance territory? Are you part of a raiding force? Were those your comrades that tried to slay you? Are there any more?" She then narrowed her eyes and leaned forward. "If not, then why were they after you? Answer truthfully if you answer at all. If there is no fault in your actions, if you are not our enemy, if you do not represent our enemy, then you will be treated well. You will be fed. And when I am confident in your trustworthiness and capability, your belongings will be returned, and you will be allowed to leave unhindered."

"However. Answer falsely, try to deceive me or my daughters, attempt to harm any of us, and you will meet pain at very skilled hands I assure you. She paused for effect, and turned her tone very dark. "If it means anything to you, I can draw screams from Succubi. It is a truly horrific sound, one you cannot erase from memory."
 
RE: Grab Life by the Horns [Pearlheart/Squish]

The tauren wavered on his feet once more. He was clearly low on blood and energy. The very act of priming his muscles for combat was enough to make him light-headed. But he was stubborn. And clearly not light headed enough that he couldn't pivot once again, his anchor hoof sinking further into the soft moss. At first, he blamed the blood loss for why he hadn't heard her coming early. But nearly the very moment he'd pivoted, he realized that wasn't so. It didn't take a master swordsman to realize that the third elf was the true danger of the three. But his trained eyes carefully regarded her movements, her stride. It was easy to tell she was well-experienced in both combat and stealth. In his current state, his pride aside, he knew that he would not be able to win against her. But him fully healed, with all his equipment? That would be a much, much closer fight...

She passed him, not even and arm's length away, and for the briefest of moments, he was sorely tempted. But even his wounded pride was not quite enough of a cause to start a battle he couldn't finish on his terms. As much as he disliked it, the elven woman was the one in charge right now, and he'd have to settle into her pace. He lowered his fists, but stood tall and proud, freeing his hoof from it's divot. He listened, and watched her, his sea-green eyes carefully following her every movement. When she mentioned slaying the orcish woman, he cursed inwardly. He had hoped that her greed and fear would win out in the end. That she would simply be satisfied looting the gear and purses of the other corpses, and go off to deliver his message. Now, it was just another problem. He'd have to go back to the battlefield, track down Garrosh's skull, then head to spllintertree and send it by wyvern to Thunder Bluff. The wyvern was fast, though. He'd have much less of a head start than he'd desired originally. Perhaps if he rode straight into felwood, the fel would cover his tracks for long enough for him to set up another battlefield.

As she began her speech on 'nowhere to run' he had to grin inside, though he kept his face emotionless. He was being underestimated. He could use that to his advantage. As for the Satyrs, he'd marched through a half-dozen of the demonic camps while making his way this far into Ashenvale. They were no real threat to him. Well, perhaps naked, they would be, but with his gear, they were nothing. As for the 'countless leagues' of alliance territory, he knew better. A long day's ride from even the farthest parts of ashenvale could get one to Splintertree. Perhaps two day's worth, if one took the time to give a wide berth to the alliance settlements in the way. He did show a slight frown when she said she'd discarded his clothes. Frostweave was expensive, and he'd had that shirt tailored for him. The fabric would shed blood or virtually any other sort of befoulment like a duck's back shed water. A stab-hole could be patched. By the time she commented on enjoying the view, he knew she was trying to manipulate him. But he had to admit, it was an unusual combination of fear-mongering and flattery. Perhaps that was her game.

As the girls prepared the boar for the fire, he looked at it with an evident longing. His utterly empty gut decided it was time to remind him just how empty it was. He swayed softly on his hooves once again, but soon he shut the emotion away, stiffening his jaw and watching the elven woman down his snout. He said nothing about the hunger, not yet. As she strode closer to him, his eyes tracked her movements. As her hand rose to touch his wounds, he didn't even flinch. His eyes stayed on her the entire time. His muscles didn't even tense up under her fingers. He was determined to preserve the last of his pride. He would show these girls no fear. Even in the face of death, he would not retreat or hide. Even if he could not win, he had his pride, and they would never take that from him.

As she began to ask her questions, he listened, carefully, his ears turned to listen to her alone. He stayed silent through all her questions, all her threats, and his face betrayed none of the line of though that ran through his mind. As much as he hated to admit it, there were really no options. She wasn't asking anything that threatened the horde, and her demands seemed reasonable, if perhaps a bit draconian. He cast a glance to either of the younger girls, before his eyes settled back onto the mother.

When he finally began to speak, his voice was deep and even. "I will stand, or I will fall. I will not sit, not on your orders, not while I still have my pride." He began, then raised his hand to his chest. "My name is Vigoro. Not 'you'. Vigoro Palehorn, shieldmaster. Grimtotem exile." He told the mother, then lowered his hand. "I am in alliance territory because I was pursued here by the tauren whose head I took. I had hoped that the presence of the alliance would be enough to scare him off the trail for the moment. I was apparently mistaken. so, no, I was not part of a raiding force, and no, those were not my comrades. As far as I am aware, there is no raiding party of that sort. I didn't see any signs of such a thing while making my way here. the tauren whose head I took is Garrosh Grimtotem. He is the grandson of Elder Crone Magda Grimtotem. The orcs were nothing more than mercenaries, lured by the purse the Crone placed on my head. There will definitely be more to take their place, especially once Magda learns her grandson is dead. With the orc woman dead, I should have a few weeks until the word gets to her, maybe a little longer, since the battle happened in alliance territory. It would have been much shorter had the orc woman passed on his head and my message as I told her to."

He seemed perfectly calm as he explained this. "They are after me because the Grimtotem do not forgive. Garrosh was the second of Magda's grandchildren I have killed, and one of several dozen of the other Grimtotem I have killed. I do this, because the Grimtotem are a danger to the entire horde, and the alliance too. Madga is a serpent. She sits on Elder Rise, speaking of peace in public. But she whispers words of war in the ears of the chieftains, and her clan pushes for battle. They strike at alliance settlements, and they collaborate with the forsaken rebels. the alliance does not see Grimtotems, they just see tauren. The acts of the clan are blamed on the horde as a whole. If they aren't stopped, they will bring a new war to Azeroth. But Magda's words find homes in powerful ears, and a lone exile is no match for her influence. So all I can do is kill them, and put a stop to Magda's plans wherever I can, and keep her occupied. If she spends her days screaming for revenge and planning my hunt, she does not spend that time furthering her goals." He finished.

He arced an eyebrow at the night elf mother. "Well? Are you satisfied?" He asked.
 
RE: Grab Life by the Horns [Pearlheart/Squish]

Cat considered Vigoro's words carefully and completely. Her pale glowing eyes never left his for the entirety of his speech, judging his every tell, every twitch, every oddly placed quirk of the lip. Tauren were harder to read than other races, due to the unfamiliar structure of their facial muscles, but with experience it became as easy as any other humanoid species. He did not even try to hide, at least from her perspective, the emotion carried behind his tale. He was very interesting, if a little predictable. His pride was expected, as was his obsession with maintaining it. Pride was a severe negative to her, a point of sensitivity easily brushed. She found what many considered a virtue to be a useless thing, that served little more than to rob otherwise good men from their families for what they foolishly considered a noble cause, and equally as important, it was abused as a shield for evil men to enact violence in the name of personal honor. Either way, she detested the notion. Unfortunately, this did not immediately paint this Vigoro in a positive light for Cat.

However, as best as her skill could gauge, he had not lied. The mere fact that he was so forthcoming was in itself a tell. His pride in what many consider a crime told her that he truly believed in it's virtue. And his willingness to be painted a traitor in order to save his kind was admirable in some respects. It had been some time since her skills had been used to keep tabs on the horde, so she did not know this Magda, nor her Grimtotem clan. So her abilities were her only true gauge of his honesty.

"Fine. I am satisfied." She kicked up a section of moss covering a trap-hole. It was big enough to cover a person, and a dozen of them were positioned around the clearing. Just in case she and her girls needed to hide or place traps. For now it was holding his clothes. With a yank she pulled up the wicker top to the hole, and pulled out his cleaned and stitched garments, then tossed them to him. "I lied about your clothes. In order to put you off as I questioned you. They are fine, but in need of professional mending. I have never been much of a seamstress." She turned away from him and started heading around to the back to help her girls prepare the food, then stopped, turning her head to look at Vigoro over her shoulder.

"I am accepting your word Palehorn, but you are not welcome here, nor do I trust you yet. I am helping you for my own reasons, ones you have no place knowing." The more she looked at Vigoro, the more disturbing the likeness became. Even the color of his horns. She knew there was no possibility of a blood relation to her Migar Broadhand, but still...it was like looking into the past. She shook her head lightly, realizing that she had dazed for a moment, while looking into his eyes. "You may stay, you may eat. We will continue tending to your wounds. And in case you are overestimating your chances, know that that wound not only punctured a lung, but nicked several arteries. So a child could kill you at this point merely by poking that wound too hard. Satyrs and Furbolgs will do much more than poke." Having the truth out, she wasn't sure why she was really keeping him there. Perhaps it was the resemblance, as she had no obligation to save Vigoro's life. There was little other reason, in fact it would be easier to simply turn around and rip open his wound, which was in her power. But the mere thought of hurting him caused her lips to twitch. She sighed. He had the fur, the horn color, his scars were more numerous, but still..."Damn it. Why do you all have to look so similar..." She said to try and cover for her staring. Then she walked away, speaking as she moved.

"And just in case you were thinking it, your gear is not under the moss as well. So don't go tearing up my clearing trying to find them. Follow me after you get dressed, my daughters have done enough staring as it is."
 
RE: Grab Life by the Horns [Pearlheart/Squish]

He gave a small nod as she accepted his explanation. Whether or not she was willing to believe it, it was the story he was going to stick to, so it was something of a relief that she'd decided to take it, rather than dragging this out any longer than needed. His eyes darted down as she suddenly shifted her weight, kicking open the moss hatch and pulling the wicker lid away. He watched as she crouched down and scooped something out of the hole. His features brightened somewhat as she drew out his clothes, tossing them to him. He caught them in one large hand, checking them over to inspect the fresh hole the elf had sewn up. It all seemed in order. Though the stitching was certainly not professional, it seemed like it would hold for long enough for him to make it to another city and get it properly patched there.

Before he could offer thanks, she turned again and spoke. He frowned, somewhat, and the frown only deepened when she elaborated on the severity of his wounds. He rolled his shoulder, feeling the wound twinge, and paused. Now that he wasn't in combat mode, his plentiful muscles demanded less blood, leaving his head clearer and significantly less... spinny. Which was what allowed him to catch her half-muttered curse. Immediately he began to wonder what she'd meant, but he quickly decided that would come later. For now, he had clothes again, and if the mother's words were any indication, he'd been stared at quite enough.

He quickly began to dress. First things first, the loincloth. A t-shaped piece of fabric, he laid it out on the grass and rolled the cross-bar into a rope-like band, which he tied around his waist, the strap hanging in the back. Reaching between his thighs, one hand grabbed the cloth strip, while the other gripped his heavy balls, pulling them up, and with them, the thick, meaty shaft. With practiced precision, the swath of pale blue fabric came up in the front, engulfing the oversized package.Despite being compressed by fabric, the bulge in the front of it was still nearly the size of a watermelon. Up, through the waistband of the garment, the fabric came, then down, hanging in front of the bulge. It did little to preserve his modesty, however.

Then, the frostsilk underarmor. Nerubian silk, woven into a fine cloth and dyed a pale blue, the garments were designed to be worn as a layer of added protection and comfort underneath armor. While they certainly wouldn't stop an arrow, the fabric would remain intact, and make it possible to pull the arrow from the wound without tearing out a chunk of flesh with it. It was simply functional, and as such, the clothes weren't particularly attractive to the eye. First, a pair of trousers, which clung to his thighs tightly, to reduce friction and prevent binding. Being tailored for him meant they hosted a sizable pouch which cupped his groin, providing full support, set underneath a set of laces to tighten the garment at the waist. The last thing someone in four layers of armor mid-battle needed to worry about was suddenly having his package shift around and get crushed between his thighs during a meanuver. The cloth flap of his undergarment came up over the laces, concealing them from sight. Then, the shirt. Long sleeves provided protection all up his powerful arms, but they had to be tight, to keep them from bunching up and riding up the arm, or folding, to dig into his skin. The chest was tight, as well, and the collar went up to just the base of the neck. No buttons or metal of any sort, either, the garment simply stretched to fit. The lack of metal added a layer of protection against lightning and electrical magic. The outfit also came with a hood and gloves, to protect his head and hands from the pinching and binding of mail, but Vigoro decided that would be excessive without the rest of his armor, and simply tucked the extra garments into the back of his trousers.

With his genitals and most of his scars concealed, the tauren stretched his weary muscles, working the stiffness of a week asleep out of them. There were a few times when his head swam, but the moments passed quickly, and he stopped immediately whenever his wound twinged. Feeling somewhat better, the tauren began to make his way around the tree, watching where he stepped. He may have been lucky thus far, but it didn't look like the moss and wicker lids of those hidey-holes would support his weight, and he certainly didn't want to fall into one. Now with the scent of fire and food in the air, his stomach was becoming more insistent in it's demands to be fed, grumbling loudly as he rounded the side of the tree, his eyes searching for the elven trio and the food.
 
RE: Grab Life by the Horns [Pearlheart/Squish]

While Cat wore her hunting leathers, the girls wore only their casual clothes. Soft leather breaches that hugged their thighs and contoured their legs quite well down to their ankles. A slit ran from the hip all the way to the bottom of each leg, and a drawstring criss-crossed it's way down so that they could be tightened and loosened at a whim. A basic soft leather vest with no underclothes left little to the imagination, but covered what was necessary. They never had guests, so modesty wasn't one of their priorities. And since the only thing they had that covered substantial skin was their hunting leathers, they would have to make do.

Dal was the first to see their guest round the tree fully clothed. Somehow, the massive pouch required to hold his genitals did absolutely nothing to stem the flow of lustful thoughts through her mind. In fact, it seemed to antagonize them, as she knew exactly what that pouch was filled with. She wasn't really sure how to act around him. Mother had allowed him to live, and stay. But there was something about the Tauren that definitely put Mother off, saddened her, and infuriated her at the same time. And as much as she knew it might not be proper in front of company, she gave her mother a firm hug from behind. With her long ear pressed against her back, she could hear the older woman's heart pounding for some unknown reason. She drew a sigh nonetheless.

"Thank you dear. Now please...see to your sister before she burns herself again." Dal laughed at the dry comment.

"Mother! One time!" Mal growled irritably. It eased Dal to know that Cat's humor was intact. Dal went to assist her sister at the fireplace. The meat still had some time to go, and she didn't know how the Tauren would take it. She sighed. She wished at this time that she had at least a little of Mal's innocence.

"So how did your thing get so large?" Both Dal and Cat nearly choked on their own tongues as Mal directed so blunt and inappropriate a question towards Vigoro.

"MAL'YZ! By the spirits!" Cat said loudly.

"What?! I've been waiting this whole week to ask that! He's up and around. Least he could do is tell me..." Mal stated it with such innocent fervor, like it had been keeping her up at night and she was determined to find out one way or another.

"That is not the damned point! Eyes on the fire!" Cat commanded in a tone that brooked no argument. Then she turned to Vigoro and sighed. "I...must apologize for my daughter. She is young, and neither of them have much experience in the outside world. And Mal'yz tends to be as blunt as a warhammer at times." Meanwhile, Dal was trying very hard to stifle laughter. When she finally did she managed to ask her own question. This one much less inappropriate.

"How cooked to you want it? First leg is yours...seeing as you need it the most." Even as Dal talked Mal pouted. She was having the same problem Dal was, but worse in ways. It was driving her mad! He was the only man she'd ever met beyond very brief encounters with traders and merchants, all of which happened in the presence of her mother. While she didn't have a lot to go off of, he looked very nice. She really just wanted to sit down and talk with him. Ask him about his scars, about his people. Ask about his training and his homeland. She wanted to hear stories of his adventures! Since....being so big and manly of a thing, he had to have had adventures right? That was what men did after all...at least as far as she knew. She wanted to poke him again, pet those big rippling muscles....she began to daze off thinking various things, everything from mundane to what she understood to be what men and women did together...based on descriptions from Dal.
 
RE: Grab Life by the Horns [Pearlheart/Squish]

As Vigoro rounded the tree-home's trunk cautiously, his sea-blue eyes fell on the trio of elven girls in a new way. While he had seen the girls before, he'd only registered them in terms of combat ability and threat assessment. Now knowing that they had tended to his wounds and helped him while he had been helpless, he viewed them in a softer light. This time, he saw them as any man would see a trio of beautiful girls. Granted, these small, slender females were nothing like the tauren females he'd enjoyed in his time in Mulgore. But many years among the other races had given him a chance to learn to appreciate these differences. His eyes traced the lines of each girl's figure, wandering down one side, then up the other, on each girl. Soft violet skin and short blue-green hair on one, contrasting the darker purple of the other sister and her blue ponytail. The mother too, her long, silky blue-white hair running down her back like a waterfall. Each of them had quite an attractive figure, with sizable breasts, though The elder's were far larger than the younger's.

The three elven girls seemed to be enjoying themselves as he approached, first hugging, then telling jokes and laughing softly. He smiled. Perhaps he would be able to enjoy his time among these girls, after all. Initially, when he'd realized he wouldn't be able to leave for some time, he was somewhat frustrated. If his interactions with the elves thus far had been an indication of how things would go, it would have been a very long time indeed. But now, seeing the girls interacting and laughing with one another, he realized that perhaps his time in this glade wouldn't be too bad. Then the younger sister turned to him and asked, quite without any sort of embarrassment or shame, how he had gotten his 'thing' to be so big. He hesitated mid-step, and his face had an expression that vaguely looked as if he'd been clobbered in the back of he head with a quarterstaff. As the mother quickly stepped in and scolded the child, he seemed to recover quickly. It seemed she had been honest that the girls had been looking at his naked form. At first he smirked, then broke into a soft chuckle as the mother began to apologize for her daughter's query.

"It's alright, I take no offense. Her curiosity is only natural. Plus, it's not every day a man hears such praise." He laughed, shaking his head and smirking softly. After a brief moment of everyone else struggling not to laugh, the elder daughter began to speak. The tauren turned to her, shaking off the last of his amusement. "In honesty, I'd take it right now if it wouldn't make me sick. I'm truly starving. Better go for rare, I doubt I can wait much longer than that. How long have I been out?" He asked, one large hand going down to rub his stomach, as though that would satisfy the growling beast in his gut.

It wasn't long before the boar was ready, but for a hungry tauren, the moments seemed like an eternity. He set to eating with a passion, devouring his leg of boar, as well as whatever fruit or drink the elves could provide him to soothe his heroic appetite. Even for a mighty warrior as he, a week without food was no picnic, pun not intended. But his attentions were divided between food and the curious elves. As he ate they asked questions of all sorts, and he did his best to answer them between bites of food. Telling them of his journeys, his homeland, about allies and foes of all types that he'd earned through the years. By the time the mighty tauren's stomach was satisfied, he'd eaten nearly as much as the three elves combined, though it took him no longer than the others to finish. His hunger sated, the tauren leaned back on one hand, the other rubbing his now-full stomach.

As he sat, there, however, an odd look came over his face. he paused as he lifted his arm from his stomach and sniffed at his hand. He wrinkled his snout, recoiling a bit. He glanced left and right about him, peering into the nearby forest before he turned to the mother. "Is there a stream somewhere? Someplace I could wash up? My fur is quite matted, and I think I may still have some blood on me." he asked.
 
RE: Grab Life by the Horns [Pearlheart/Squish]

It was strange how quickly the mood eased as the four of them ate. Dal and Mal managed to keep their questions civil at least, and thoroughly enjoyed the tales of his exploits, the strange lands he had seen, and the many people both enemies and friend that he had encountered. Dal found herself particularly wooed just by the presence of this warrior. He was so powerful and exciting, more than anything he had such an aura of confident force around him. She had only had sex once, and it was with another young Night Elf. He was a nice guy, and she didn't regret it, but it had been far from the mind-exploding experience she was hoping for. She had a feeling that such an experience could be possible with Vigoro. Though the though immediately drew a blush from her and she focused on eating her meal.

Mal was just completely awestruck. Everything about Vigoro was new and amazing to her. His incredible stories, his rich voice, his burly muscles, the way his veins popped out from his skin visible even through the fur. Even the way he devoured nearly as much as all of them combined impressed her, he was such a spectacle. She was still particularly interested in his crotch...that smell...the smell that still caused something in her gut to stir. She wanted to smell it again...taste it again. Pretty soon she was just dazing off into nothing as he ate, not really focusing on anything but the images in her head.

Cat listened to his stories, one ear taking in the tales, while the other searched for untruth. However the more he spoke the more he reaffirmed her suspicion that he genuinely was no enemy. Of course this did not lower her guard, but it did allow her to relax a little and enjoy her meal, as well as the silly faces her girls kept making every time Vigoro's tales reached climax or hit upon some incredible thing they'd never heard of. She had always meant to protect her daughters from the world. But it did seem as though the more she did so, the more they would long for the outside. When they finished all their stomachs were satisfied, and Vigoro asked about a place to wash.

"Yes. There is a stream nearby. But as it is night, that may not be the safest idea for you. If you were set upon, we'd be hard pressed to..."

"I can take him!" Mal piped up cheerily. Dal groaned in response.

"Dear....don't be silly. I am not sending you to protect him while he bathes. It wouldn't even be close to appropriate." Mal waved her finger in the air in a way that caused Cat's eyebrow to twitch. That meant the girl was being devious.

"Maybe so but he can't go tomorrow. Because you have to meet the trader in the morning remember? It's Dal's turn to hunt....and besides, he won't be able to wash on his own without opening the wound anyways. So one of us has to go with him regardless." Cat wasn't sure what irritated her more, that her daughter was so damned clever, or that she was right. Dal was going to need her sleep if she was hunting. One of them always had to watch the house. Cat could go without sleep just fine....but there was no way she could help him wash....the likeness was too much. As much as it pained her to admit defeat...as well as the potency of Vigoro's current aroma, Mal was right.

"You will be the death of me child. Fine. Show him the stream...help him ONLY where he cannot himself! Then come right back. Understand?"

"Yes mother!" Mal was beaming in a fashion that was downright troubling. She was far too excited, and that worried her genuinely. But it would be indecent to force Vigoro to remain in his current state for the remainder of his healing. She sighed and prayed for the best and let them leave, while she helped Dal clean up. "Come on Viggy!" Mal said cheerfully as she motioned the Tauren to follow her out of the clearing. The stream was just a hundred paces beyond the edge.
 
RE: Grab Life by the Horns [Pearlheart/Squish]

He had to admit, it was a very nice meal. At first, he had been somewhat embarrassed by their stares and their questions, but the more he spoke, the more he opened up. It had been a long time since he'd taken on the mantle of storyteller, but he had enjoyed telling his stories to the girls. Many of them he'd never had a chance to tell before. When he was in a city, he stayed in his armor constantly, unless he was sleeping in a well-guarded inn. He suspected that his impressive size and intimidating armor simply made him too frightening to talk to. Not that he would talk much, anyways. Among the horse, he could never tell where his words would carry. Anyone could be an informant or a bounty hunter, eager to claim his head for it's reward, or report his movements to the Grimtotems. Magatha's ears were everywhere. But these girls had never heard of the Grimtotem, and wouldn't be able to talk to them, even if they had. That, coupled with their obvious interest in him combined to give Vigoro a sense of confidence. He could relax a bit here. It was... calming. He didn't have to watch over his shoulder for Grimtotem spies.

But his calm swiftly turned to confusion as his simple question evolved into a debate between the mother and the youngest. Cat and Mal. He was still trying to remember their names, and the structure of the night elf's names were unusual, foreign to him. He had settled for simply trying to remember their shortened names. His head swung back and forth, his beard-braid swinging under his chin as he watched the exchange. By the time they were finished, he'd more or less figured out what was going on, and gave a small chuckle as the mother conceded defeat. When the younger gestured for him to follow her, he rose from his seat and began to follow. He too had noticed a slightly unhealthy amount of interest from the young elf, but he'd dismissed it as nothing more than that elvish energy he'd yet to grow accustomed to.

As Vigoro followed her, he noted that already, much of his strenght was returning. An hour of resting as well as his now-full belly were really helping. He moved easier, though he still kept a wary eye for those bolt-holes. Once he passed the edge of the clearing, he began to walk easier. He maneuvered his bulk with impressive skill, shifting his weight from one hoof to the other as he ducked low branches, sidestepped bushes, and slid between tree trunks with a level of skill equal to that of any night elf, though his bulk certainly worked against him here. It wasn't long before they reached the stream. A small waterfall ran off an overhang some twenty feet up, carving a small pond out of the forest floor, and forming a crisp, clear stream. The river's bed was gravelly, with little mud, and the banks were narrow, quickly giving way to the moss and other plants common throughout the rest of the forest.

It was at that moment that the words 'only where he can't reach' fully sank in. He gave a somewhat bashful smile to the elf girl. "Well... I suppose you've already seen everything, so there's nothing to be ashamed of." He said, and reached down, gripping the lower hem of his shirt and pulling it up, once more revealing the incredible musculature of his abs, as well as the network of scars that marred them. Then the pecs emerged, broad and hard, like a black, shaggy cliff. The arms, veiny, powerful, and even more muscular than the rest of him. Then the head, the collar stretching wide to accommodate one horn at a time, before he was finally free of the garment. He tossed the shirt over the branch of a nearby bush before he started on his trousers, reveling the watermelon-bulge of his loincloth, the garment barely containing his incredible endowment. Finally, that came away too, letting the foot-long flaccid member flop free between this thighs. As he felt the elf's eyes upon it, it gave a twitch, a vague attempt to lift itself from it's hanging position.

Fully naked now, he tossed the last of his clothes over the bush, and strode into the cool stream, flinching only once or twice as the dangling head of his mighty cock dipped below the surface. The tauren glanced at the elf-girl as he scooped handfuls of the cool water up onto his face and shoulders. "I think I can get most of myself. I'll probably just need you to wash my back and my good arm." He said over the rushing sound of the waterfall.
 
RE: Grab Life by the Horns [Pearlheart/Squish]

"I suppose you're right." Mal said with a smile as Vigoro began to undress. She found her eyes tracing every incredible muscle on his torso as he raised his shirt. Knowing just a few of the stories behind those scars gave him an even more dangerous appeal. She knew so little about men, but she knew that this one was spectacular. His body was beyond amazing, it was godlike. And it made her knees weak just watching him strip down. She'd seen it all before, but as soon as he had dressed himself she had started missing his naked form. Mother had said it was natural for a woman to take to the sight of a man. So she didn't argue with the moisture between her thighs. As he undressed so did she, slipping down to only her own loincloth as Vigoro freed his impressive member from it's enclosure.

"Be careful not to slip, that would be a serious pain with that wound..." She said as she waded out to join him." The closer she got to him, the more she realized the height difference between them. Her head only just reached his sternum, giving him nearly two whole feet over her. "...And don't worry. I'll take care of it....then I'll give you a little privacy." She walked up behind him, admiring the way his body just went from muscle to muscle. Even his ass was so taut that she felt the urge to grab it. However she resisted and started scooping water onto his back, letting it trickle down and soak his shiny fur. Gingerly she started running her fingers through the fur on his back as she poured water over it. She could feel his heartbeat like a drum against her hand, and the heat he was radiating....his whole presence was intoxicating.

"So....um....Vigoro. Do you...have any friends?" She was trying to be subtle, which she was not good at. "Any female friends?" She said as she ran her hands down his back, around to his sides. He was so broad. "I don't suppose...you like Night Elves very much do you?" God his ass was so inviting. "I have to get kinda close to reach your shoulders....I hope you don't mind?" She slid closer and reached up, using the situation as an excuse to press against him. But she didn't make it too obvious, at least by her standards. For a brief moment her abdomen pressed against his back, as well as her breasts. When she finished she moved to his side, finding the view of his abs to be quite nice from this angle.

"Shall I get the arm?" She thoroughly made the best of the situation, getting a firm feel for his muscular biceps, powerful forearms, and meaty shoulders. She couldn't fathom how any woman could resist this Vigoro. He must have dozens of women lined up to claim him. The thought saddened her, and eventually she finished in somewhat less of a good mood. Eventually he would leave. And she'd never see another man of such an attractive caliber. "Well. I let you alone for awhile. I'll be just down the stream washing up if you need me..." With that she made her way downstream, putting a decent distance between them, at least until a thick set of bushes obscured her line of sight. She was aching between her legs. And wet as well, not just from the water. She was so hot that the water felt like ice. Even after submerging herself she couldn't get rid of a knot that had built up in her belly.
 
RE: Grab Life by the Horns [Pearlheart/Squish]

As he glanced back over his shoulder at her, his breath caught for a moment and the python between his thighs gave a more energetic lurch, though the motion could easily be rationalized by the current. He hadn't noticed that the elf girl- no, Mal- was stripping too. And while she'd seen him naked, he certainly hadn't seen her like this before. But as she waded into the water, naked to the waist, he found his sea-blue eyes subtly trying to take in her figure. Her long legs, her wide, sexy hips, that flat, toned stomach... and those tits! They were no match for her sister's, but they were nothing to scoff at either. they were full, but firm and perky, and he found himself wondering how they would feel. His eyes zoomed in on her nipples. Was it his imagination, or were they hard? He could probably blame that on the water, but he could see the look in her eyes as she closed in on him.

As she came right up to him, he looked at her, his eyes on hers for a long moment before he realized he had to turn around. With his back to her, he could think straight again. What was he thinking? Sure, she was looking a little closely at him, but that was probably just... curiosity, right? Besides, she was too young for him. He couldn't take advantage of these elves' hospitality. Besides that, if he tried something with her, that woman, Cat, would probably just kill him on the spot. But as she began to wash his back, he couldn't help but think that her small hands were so soft on his back. It felt very nice. He found himself subconsciously tensing his muscles beneath her touch, firming them up, letting her feel the strength that they contained. His heartbeat was slow, much slower than her own, but it beat hard, his arteries pulsing notably with each beat.

As she began to speak, he smirked. Subtle she was not. But he would play along with her questions. "I've had a few friends. To be honest, though, they've all been tauren." He replied, his deep voice vibrating his back against her fingers. This close to him, it would almost be like the vibrations of his voice rolled through her body, stimulating her in new ways. "Some from before I left Thunder Bluff, others since I began to wander. They say I'm the best friend a girl could ask for." He continued, now actively teasing her with his words. "I can't say I've ever had a night elf friend before. It might be fun to make friends with a cute night elf girl..." He fell off there, because that was when she pressed herself against his back. He felt her soft skin and her even softer breasts press into the broad plane of his back as she began to wash his shoulders. The thick tube between his thighs gave another lurch at the sensation.

As she worked her way down his arm, again, he found himself hardening his muscles under her fingertips as he watched her work, her eyes wandering over the rest of his body. When, eventually, she finished, he found himself wishing he could have asked her to help him wash some... other parts of his anatomy. But with a sigh, he went to work, using the arm she'd just washed to scrub the rest of his body, working the dried blood and a week of accumulated sweat and grime out of his fur. It didn't take long for him to be more or less cleaned up. But the cleaning couldn't get the images of little Mal out of his head. He glanced around momentarily, to make sure he was alone, before pulling himself from the water and stepping onto the shore.

Once there, he found himself a nice spot, with a wall of bushes that would lend him a bit of privacy if Mal would return too soon. Leaning his back against a sturdy tree, he closed his eyes and reached down with both hands. One grasped his semi-flaccid member in a firm grip, while the other reached below, cupping one massive, melon-sized nut and rolling it in his palm. He slowly began to move his fist up and down the length of his thick meat as memories of some of his previous mates danced through his head. But as his massive member reached it's full hardness, the images changed. Suddenly, he was no longer imaging tauren girls, but night elves, the very girls taking care of him, in fact. A twinge of guilt arose in his mind, but was quickly drowned out beneath a new wave of erotic sensations. He could image the feel of soft, lavender skin, the tightness of their small bodies, the look of their faces, their lips stretched wide around his fat bullcock.
 
RE: Grab Life by the Horns [Pearlheart/Squish]

No matter how many times she submerged herself, the cool stream water could not cool Mal'yz down. It was like she had a fever, but rather than being tired and drained, her body ached for relief. She found herself antsy, and full of energy. Her mind kept going back to Vigoro's amazing body again and again. The feel of his flexing muscles beneath her fingers, the sight of his cock springing at her touch. She knew full well how wrong she was being. She should be wanting some strapping young, Night Elf, not a war scarred Tauren. If she was to even make an attempt, it's very likely that her mother would explode, and someone would end up dead. But she just couldn't stop. In fact the image of a young Night Elf somehow paled in comparison to the man bathing up the stream. After several agonizing minutes she decided to take another peak at Vigoro. She crept stealthily through the water until she came to the curve, then she moved up onto the shore, staying on the thick, spongy moss. She moved up to a set of thin bushes covered in purple flowers. The bushes were thin, but the night and the flowers would hide her from sight.

Gingerly she found a gap in the bushes, and gasped at what she saw. She was maybe four feet from Vigoro, who was sitting against a tree, facing her. His cock was fully engorged in one hand, while his other hand massaged one of his huge testicles. Her abdomen cringed and the fire between her legs flared at the sight. His hand pumped up and down his incredible shaft, which was now as long as her arm, and as thick as her bicep the whole way up. She felt a rush of desire flood her body, like a million sparks hitting her skin. That meaty shaft was illuminated by the moonlight, so that she could see every glistening vein as he stroked it powerfully. Her own fingers moved down between her thighs. Dal had taught her how to relieve tension, an exercise to work the stress out of the body and flood the senses with pleasure. Now she felt more than ever like performing that excercise.

As her eyes never left Vigoro's cock, one hand ran it's fingers between her now moist lips. Occasionally they would move to massage her clitoris, pinching and rubbing it as her heat kept growing. Her other hand moved to her bare breasts, massaging them gently at first, then growing in intensity as she got more and more into the exercise. She was throbbing inside, a dull need pounding away at her senses like a siege engine. Finally when she couldn't take it anymore she slipped a finger inside her body, and suppressed a moan as she did so.

She continued like this for several minutes, slipping another finger inside after a bit. She was leaking fluids down her thighs in sheets. Her whole body was so taut and pent up that every thrust of her fingers sent a shiver up her spine. And every pump of Vigoro's hand over his cock compounded on her desire to help him.
 
RE: Grab Life by the Horns [Pearlheart/Squish]

Vigoro's huge fist pounded up and down his member's length over and over, gaining speed as it did. His arms tensed and relaxed over and over as he stroked himself into a state of bliss. His chest rose and fell rhythmically as he panted, his eyes still closed. God, but it felt good. He really must have been out for some time, because his balls churned in his grip with built-up cum. It wasn't long before the fat bullcock was spitting globs of precum, which the tauren quickly smeared over his massive shaft, coating it with the clear liquid, making it glisten in the moonlight as it throbbed in pleasure under his quickly-moving fist. The scent of his precum soon filled the area, overpowering the fragrant purple flowers with the scent of his virile seed. He began to moan softly, his deep voice rolling through the clearing as he panted and groaned with pleasure, eager for release.

In his mind, the images of the tauren girls had been cast aside entirely. Now, he was ravaging the night elf girls in his mind, a new appetite awakening in him, a hunger for elven pussy. Now, he had Dal's impressive chest in his huge hands, kneading the lavender globes and burying his snout between them while he pounded into her pussy from below. Now, Cat was bent over, her hands against the tree-home while he ravaged her pussy from behind, spanking and kneading her ass. Now, Mal was on her knees before him, his shaft laying on her head and down her back while she hungrily went to work spit-polishing his massive balls. Finally, all three on their knees, his cock in the mouth of one while the other two lavished attention with their lips and tongues upon whatever shaft wasn't engulfed in hungry lips. The flared head was traded from mouth to mouth, each time the former sucker taking up the new one's duties of worshiping his cock and balls. All the while the two not stuffed with cock moaned, begged, and pleaded for him to shower them in cum.

That apparently did it as suddenly his hand went into a frenzy, jacking faster and faster as his massive seed-slingers pulled up tight against his body. In a moment of lucidity, he angled his mighty cock away from himself, not wanting to get cum all over his freshly-washed fur. But unbeknownst to him, he had leveled his massive member toward Mal's hiding place. Letting out a long, loud groan of pleasure, he began to cum. His rapidly-moving hand somewhat obscured the details, but what was going on was clear.

The long, thumb-thick vein that ran the length of his cock swelled lewdly as a ping-pong-ball-sized bulge rapidly made it's way up the length of the massive cock before firing like a cannon from the flared tip. A huge, thick rope of seed flew skyward. Up and up it went, slowly arcing in the cool night air. Some ten feet it climbed, before it turned in the air, arcing it's way back down toward the earth, and straight toward little Mal. It struck Mal square in the face, right on the bridge off her nose, the thick, virile seed splashing out to completely bury her features beneath a mask of white-hot bull seed. Again and again the tauren's fearsome weapon fired, blast after blast arcing towards the elf girl's hiding place. Some struck the bush above her, rolling down the leaves until it rained down in droplets on her naked back and shoulders. Others cleared the bush entirely, splashing down in the moss behind and beside her. Two slammed into the bush in front of her torso, striking leaves or branches and flowering into a shotgun spray of cum that rained over her chest and thighs, splattering her violet skin thoroughly.
 
RE: Grab Life by the Horns [Pearlheart/Squish]

Mal was kneading her breast furiously, her fingers now slick with sweat as they pinched and pulled, massaging herself with animal fervor. The fingers between her legs thrust in and out rapidly, making slick sounds as she ground against the sensitive spot on her upper walls. She was lost in the pleasure, and the image of Vigoro's cock throbbing in his hand. Her chest heaved as much as his did, though in a different way. Her whole body rolled as she pushed her hips into her fingers, undulating like a animal in heat. She bit her lips to keep from groaning out and alerting the Tauren so busy working his own piece. When thick globs of fluid began spitting from his cock she nearly feinted from the smell. It was just like before, only stronger. After lathering his meat with the fluids his actions started making sloppy noises, which only served to turn her on more. She didn't know why he suddenly picked up his pace, but it was so hot. His fist was like a blur over that shaft.

Suddenly something hot and wet struck her right on the face, completely coating it. Her senses were filled with heat and the smell of Vigoro's fluids. She didn't even have to guess what it was. Through hazed eyes she could see Vigoro himself cumming, his powerful cock spurting massive ropes of fluid right over her bush, where it spattered all around her. Just watching his phallus swell with each blast, it's veins bulging out like fingers on his shaft. Another globule hit her shoulder and started oozing down her chest. Yet another struck her left breast directly, completely obscuring her violet skin with white. This continued for a minute or two, and by the time it finished semen dripped from the leaves above her, and caked the moss beneath her. She was splattered over much of her back and torso, completely bathed in the smell of his jizz.

Being so covered, in the heat and the smell, it drove her wild. Her own fingers picked up their pace and she quickly lost control. It was like no other smell existed, then nothing existed as she moaned out. The knot in her belly broke free and her hips started shaking. She gripped the moss beneath her with iron fingers as she started to climax. A flood of crystal fluid seeped from inside her, draining down her thighs and into the ground. She moaned loudly as her fingers continued thrusting in and out of her body, unable to stop due to the incredible ecstasy she was feeling. It took her over a minute to stop cumming, but eventually her body settled down. However she was still shaking as she collapsed on her side, not caring if she settled in Vigoro's spunk. She also had somewhat forgotten that her climax had been rather loud.
 
RE: Grab Life by the Horns [Pearlheart/Squish]

The massive tauren panted from his place against the tree as his massive fist made a few more slow trips up and down his mighty shaft, milking the last few drops of seed from his cum-chasm, letting them run down the glistening shaft, coating it thoroughly in his spunk. But the warm, pleasurable haze of the afterglow was suddenly broken by the sound of a voice. First a muted groan, then a much louder moan. It sounded like a woman in the throes of pleasure, a sound he was quite familiar with, but it was out of place here. His ears perked up, honing in on the source of the sounds. It seemed like it was coming from the bushes... Reluctantly he pushed himself up to his hooves, his rod slack only enough to rest at a 90-degree angle to his hips. As he approached the bush, a few feet to the side from the part soaked in cum, a whirl of questions went through his mind. His height easily allowed him to peer over the tops of the hedge, and what he saw there took his breath away.

A night elf girl, coated head to toe in spunk, HIS spunk, and writing in pleasure. Her fingers thrust furiously into her dripping wet pussy as she moaned and shook from the power of her orgasm. Then he realized. This was no random elf. This was Mal! He couldn't see her face for the thick mask of cum, but the hair, the violet skin, that figure, it matched up. He glanced over to the bush in front of her, and noticed a head-sized hole. Suddenly, he made the connections needed, and a smirk crossed his features. She must have come back to peek on him. she certainly seemed to be eager for an eyeful when she was helping him wash earlier. But then, she stumbled on him jerking off. She must have started fingering herself and when he came, he must have accidentally splattered her, and she started to cum. Now with his confusion gone, he could watch with great interest as she just kept cumming, shaking and writhing as she bathed in his seed. His member quickly returned to full hardness watching the sexy little elf frig herself through an earth-shattering orgasm.

When she finally collapsed to her side, he grinned. This would be good. He pushed aside the bushes on either side and stepped through, his massive prick leading the way like an obscene divining rod of some sort. He turned, now standing almost completely over her, his hooves apart, letting his massive cock twitch in the air, his heavy, pendulous balls swinging slightly below the shaft. "Well, well, well. What have we here?" He asked, grinning down at her cum-soaked form. "Looks like a naughty little elf girl having fun all by herself. Did you like watching me jerk my big, fat cock? It certainly looks like you liked it when I came all over you." He teased verbally.
 
RE: Grab Life by the Horns [Pearlheart/Squish]

Mal raised herself up on an arm quickly as the sound of rustling bushes hit her long ears. The world froze for a second when the first thing to come into view was the massive cock of the Tauren she'd been spying on. Just beneath it swung the large balls that had just now unleashed the seed that now stained her violet skin. Just beyond it, was the smiling face of the Tauren, grinning at her deviously. She was caught, this was so bad! She couldn't even think at first, and just sat there frozen with a mixture of embarrassment, fear, and.....arousal.

"I...I..." She stammered as she tried to respond to his accusation. There was no way to talk out of this, she was caught sticky-handed, and in the worst scenario! Mother was going to kill her when he told what she did. But the strange thing was Vigoro's mannerisms weren't hostile. He didn't look like he was angry, quite the opposite. She didn't really know how to read a Tauren, but a smile seemed pretty universal, as well as the throbbing, rock hard phallus that twitched above her. She found herself even more aroused now, the heat of her embarrassment was slowly turning into regular heat. Maybe a part of her....wanted to get caught. Maybe that same part of her that got so turned on just by the smell of him, also wanted someone to know how much she craved it. Regardless, it was still hard just looking at him. And the more turned on she got, the more difficult facing him was.

"I...I....I did..." She whispered. Barely able to get it past her lips. It felt like she got lighter, like a burden was lifted. "I...enjoyed watching....you..." It was a little easier, and she was able to go farther. "I liked watching your hand move...over your cock!" She got up to her knees, which placed his dick right over her left shoulder. She was only a foot away from his body, and she looked straight up at him. "I can't help it!" She wrung her hands nervously, it kind of started just tumbling out now. "Your body...is like nothing I've seen. The thought of men of my own kind don't even excite me now! Your muscles..." She stood up quickly, then gingerly reached out, placing her hands on his abdomen. "....even your scars...and the stories behind them." Her hands moved upwards, at this point she was nearly pressed against him, his cock pressed at an angle against her belly. She didn't care, she loved feeling his heartbeat against her skin. Her fingers ran through the fur on his massive pectorals.

"I love your smell....it churns something inside of me..." Her hands went back down. "Makes me feel....right..." They traveled low, tracing the firm V shape that led between his legs. "Your voice...your eyes...and especially this..." Finally, after so much anticipation she wrapped her fingers around the base of his shaft. It took both hands, but she did it. It was hot in her grip, and the throbbing was like thunder. Her own heart was racing. Her mother was going to go insane if she found out, but she couldn't stop now. She was too far. Her body wanted this too bad. She forced her gaze away from Vigoro's, unsure of how he would react.

"It....would be...my first time." She glanced nervously back to him and away again. "If you wanted....you could have me...if you...find me desirable that is....I mean....being an Elf and all...."
 
RE: Grab Life by the Horns [Pearlheart/Squish]

The tauren grinned as he looked down at the cum-soaked elven girl from his stance above her. He could see the mix of emotions on her face, and he could already see the scene playing out before him. She'd get shy, deny her feelings, perhaps even try to flee. But the feelings would haunt her. Her lust, her desire. He would remind her of them whenever the other girl's backs were turned. Eventually, when the opportunity presented itself, he would make his move and she would be unable to resist his advances. He was already liking this plan.

But then, she began to speak. It was his turn to be surprised. He felt his own lust surge with each word that passed her soft, full lips. As she came up to her knees, he truly felt the touch of her skin on his member for the first time. It almost made him groan, but he held it back. As her words continued to flow, he could feel himself growing harder and harder, flesh surges of blood rushing into his massive phallus. His pulse was thundering through his every vein. He could feel the warmth and softness of her stomach against his thick shaft now, and this time he did groan softly with the sensation. The flared head almost reached her throat, standing as they were. The air was electric. As her hands wandered his powerful muscles, he only grew more and more aroused. He had never been this hard before, and when her hands finally closed around the base of his shaft, he was rapidly losing his self control. He had to have her. He had to take her.

Almost trance-like, he raised one huge, rough hand to the elf-girl's cheek. It moved with incredible gentleness, slowly turning her eyes back to his. His sea-blue eyes locked onto hers, silently whispering his desires to the innocent elf. The hand slid back, around the base of her neck, cradling her skull in one massive mitt. He pulled her, gently but insistently upward and forward, their faces coming closer and closer until his lips met hers. In barely an instant,the kiss went from a tender peck to a deep, hungry tongue kiss. His tongue was thick and muscular, and it almost filled her mouth, coiling around her much smaller one. All in all the tauren's tongue was some eight inches of muscular flesh, and it tapered to a point.. He only used the front half for the moment, and fully demonstrated it's dexterity as he ravaged her virgin lips, completely dominating the young elf girl. His titanic cock throbbed against her stomach and chest, eager, demanding it's turn to claim the elven maiden.

The kiss seemed to go on forever, and by the time he pulled away, they were both short of breath. Shifting his hand down to her shoulder, he looked her in the eyes. "Mal'yz. I will gladly take you as my mate." He told her. There was no question there. It was simply fact. His voice once again ran down her spine, homing in on her womb. with that, the hand on her shoulder began to push down, slowly but instantly, until she was on her knees again. Once again, his mighty meat was throbbing insistently, the flared head producing globs of precum once again, the scent thick in the air. The shaft was streaked with a few stray drips of cum and thoroughly coated with glistening precum, neither fully dried from his recent climax. "Show me how much you love it." He told her, his eyes still on hers. Again, his words were not questions, not requests. It was an order, an order from this horned god of lust and power.
 
Mal felt herself being pulled to Vigoro, and not just because he was drawing her closer. He was magnetic. Those eyes of his spoke volumes of his desire, reassuring her own. His rough fingers against her soft skin only drove her body further and further from reason, until their lips met. It was the first time she'd kissed anyone but Dal, and that had only been to satisfy her curiosity. At first it was soft, subtle, and unexpected. Then with a thunderous change his tongue invaded her mouth and she was overwhelmed. She could only fight his thick tongue with hers, a fight she gladly lost as her mouth was filled with his powerful organ. Her hands moved over his incredible body, her right hand studying herself on his muscular hips, while her left wrapped around to embrace him as best she could. His throbbing member was tightly sandwiched between them as they kissed, a constant reminder of what was waiting for her attention.

"By the gods.." Was all she could say with a gasp as they finally pulled apart. She smiled lightly at his words, some part of her feeling complete with his acceptance. And then she was being pushed down until she was again face to face with his mighty phallus. She looked at it with a mix of awe and fear as he told her to prove her desires. He was so forceful, in an almost gentle way. She had no desire to defy him, or to try and be dominant. He was superior, it was only fitting that she do everything in her power to satisfy him, as he would most assuredly have no trouble pleasing her. How could such an awesome creature not? She gingerly leaned forward, running her cheek along the side of his shaft until she could kiss the flesh at the base of his shaft. With that she looked up at him, her glowing eyes casting a slight glow on his glistening flesh. With a light moan she ran her lips along his cock then stretched her lips over his flared head. It was a tight fit, but she could just barely make it happen. She sucked away any and all precum as she removed her lips and lifted his shaft up to service his monstrous sac.

She kissed them over and over, sucking lightly each time. Her hands were small, but his balls dwarfed her fists, and it took a whole hand to hold each one as she massaged them with her tongue. Even as she returned to his shaft a hand remained to massage his heavy sac. The other stroked his rod firmly, using the mixture of precum and saliva as lubricant. Again she looked up to him, looking for his approval.

"Do I please you?" She flicked her tongue over the head of his cock, and let her lips do the same as she talked. She'd never done this before, and she only wanted to please him. "Please you may ask anything of me....how can I please you?" Again she took his head in her mouth, trying to take him as deep as she could, but it would take more strength than she had to force so large a thing any further....
 
Back
Top Bottom