Silverpine Negotiations

"Well then, king; perhaps you can tell me why you've interrupted me to drag me out here in the middle of nowhere?" she asked, folding her arms at him as her red eyes bore into his.

"If by 'interrupting you', you're referring to me interrupting your unprovoked invasion of Gilneas along with a brutal ongoing massacre of its people, then yes, I have indeed interrupted you," he replied back to her rashly.

Sylvanas' grin of malice never faded even as she closed in on him slowly. Varian flinched slightly again as she approached but stood his ground so as not to appear vulnerable to his adversary. She reached her hand up and giggled resonantly as she gave his cheek a squeeze with the tips of her gauntlets mockingly.

"Dear Varian...why, oh why, do you despise me with such contempt?" she asked him.

Varian snatched her small hand and withdrew it roughly from his cheek with a grimace.

"Aside from the obvious..." he replied, glowering at her abhorrent deathly pale demeanor, "You have obviously forgotten the events of the Wrathgate, banshee."

She made a scornful tsk noise whilst loosening her slender wrist from his strong grip.

"Apothecary Putress' doing. Not mine," she replied, halfheartedly playing with the string of her bow. "You seem to forget that horde soldiers were killed in that little...incident as well."

"And those atrocious experiments in the Undercity that I witnessed with my own eyes? And the plague that Putress engineered? Does the blame lie solely with him for all that as well?" he asked her loudly as his temper rose.

Sylvanas' grin finally disappeared at the mention of the plague. She hadn't been sure if Varian had connected her with the plague that the Apothecary Society had created. Furthermore, was it possible that the Stormwind king was aware of her using the plague during the invasion of Gilneas, and again against the Alliance town of Southshore?

She summoned her guise of bravado again as quickly as it had been lost so as to make herself seem more innocent.

"I think we can all rest easy knowing that such crude, despicable devices died along with Putress, can't we, dear king?" she said with false sweetness.

Varian's brow furrowed as he stared intently at her for a few moments.

"Light knows I'd have to be a fool to believe such blatant lies," he angrily replied. "It doesn't matter. Sooner or later, I will settle my scores with you one way or another, witch. Regardless, that is not the reason I came here today."

She cocked her head at him. "Let me guess; you came here to beg and plead with me to call off my invasion, hmm?"

He shook his head at her. "I'm not so naïve as to think that you would ever honor that. No, my desire in question is to have the dozens of Alliance prisoners that you took hostage when Gilneas fell."

Her eyebrow rose. "Alliance prisoners?" she asked again.

He nodded. "The Forsaken took nearly two hundred Gilnean soldiers and civilians captive when Genn and his people fled. I want them back."

She pondered this, tapping her chin with a finger as she strolled about the clearing. As she paced, she had her back turned toward Varian and her posterior swayed with each of her graceful strides. Varian gulped, gritting his teeth as he tried to avoid staring at both of those firm globes beneath her tight leather pants.

Turning back to him, she said, "If this concerns Greymane's people, then why isn't the old man here with you?"

"We both decided that it would be in the best interest of these negotiations not for him to participate. That should make sense to you of all people, especially after what befell Liam Greymane," he growled, referring to Genn's dead son.

She smirked, turning around and approaching him again. Her conscience seemed undeterred at the mention of her slaying the Prince of Gilneas.

"You're right. You're so much more even-tempered than Greymane. You are a much better negotiator," she chuckled sarcastically at his expense, flicking a finger at one of the brown locks of his hair as she was close enough to him.

"But you know; I for one find it rather curious that you would be willing to go out of your way to do favors for that dog of a king. That you would actually be willing to defend a coward who hid behind his high wall while the Scourge decimated Lordaeron and Quel'thalas. Who sat back and did nothing while Alliance soldiers went off to fight and die against the Lich King in Northrend. But only now that he is so desperately in need of your aid, does he come back, falling at your feet, groveling and begging on his hands and knees to rejoin the Alliance. Oh, sorry...paws and knees, I should say," she gave a malicious laugh that drifted over the clearing.

"Don't spout your vile words at me, Sylvanas. My personal opinion of Genn Greymane is irrelevant. Like it or not, he and his people are part of the Alliance now, and I will do what it takes to secure the release of his people," he firmly replied.

Sylvanas rolled her eyes, finding his stubborn pride to be rather amusing.

"I have no doubt that you will. What do you offer in return for my kind and generous release of your prisoners?" she asked him with curiosity.

"It goes against my better judgment, but I am prepared to offer you a considerable portion of resources, including lumber, iron and steel; enough to arm a small army. In addition, I offer you free reign to certain land holdings in the Alterac Mountains, just north of Tarren Mill," he said to her.

She yawned, seeming uninterested in the offers made. "Is that all?" she meekly asked.

"Yes. Those are my terms," Varian replied, looking over the pondering queen of the Forsaken.

She mulled this over to herself for only several seconds before she gave her abrupt answer.

"Not interested."

He blinked at her. "Not interested?" he asked, irritated. "My offer was rather generous."

"Oh Varian...dear, sweet Varian," she said in that cool, condescending tone. "If I wanted land in the Alterac Mountains, I could simply take it of my own accord. And as for the resources; it's a generous tribute, but I already have quite enough to sustain me and my army as it is."

She clapped her hands together and gathered up her bow, unceremoniously spinning around so that he was met with a view of her rear end again. She began walking away from the central banner in the clearing to depart back into the forest, looking over her shoulder at him.

"Well, if there's nothing left to discuss, I think I'll be heading off. There's plenty to take care of and too little time to take care of it. I think I'll hang on to your Alliance prisoners. Worgen can potentially make useful lapdogs...if they can be broken," she snickered as she strutted away from him.

Not one to accept defeat so easily, Varian clenched his fists as he quickly followed after her.

"Wait!" he urgently said to her before she could leave the meeting place.

She stopped in her tracks, smiling mischievously to herself. She spun back around to face the human king again.

His shoulders slightly slumped as he let out a ragged sigh. "What do you want then?"

She propped her chin on her knuckle in a casual thinking pose. "Hmm...what do I want? Keeping the prisoners is rather tempting. Those worgen and soldiers offer much potential if they can be...swayed to my allegiance. But, what could possibly be a better offer that can convince me otherwise?" she asked herself.

She turned her gaze back to Varian. The human king stood back incredulously as the banshee queen's flaring crimson orbs traced over his body with intrigue.

Sylvanas looked over the enemy king with fascination. Despite his armor, she could clearly and easily make out his defined, muscular build underneath; his body was built and trained to the capacity of a warrior that had faced years of toil. Varian could only grimace uncomfortably as her eyes fell upon his crotch. She licked her lips, cocking her head as she glanced down at the spot between his leggings where, underneath the leather, his manhood resided in hibernation. Her inquisitive side got the better of her and she suddenly found herself trying to guess and picture the appearance of the human king's endowment; how long, how hard, how smooth?

Casting her glance back up to Varian's slightly blushing face, Sylvanas' small pale lips curved into a sinister grin. She began to formulate a wicked plan in her head that would do the multi-task of not only humiliating the proud human king, but potentially bring her a great deal of pleasure and sate her own curiosity in the process. Varian's desperation and idealistic desire to free his prisoners from her grasp was something that she was hoping to exploit for her own benefit in this situation. She could think of little to compare to the satisfaction that would come with using the king of Stormwind like a toy for herself before discarding him.

"I know exactly what I want," she said to him, smirking lasciviously. She licked her lips before saying simply, "Take off your leggings."

Varian glared at her with aghast and disbelief. "What?!" he snorted, not taking her demand seriously.

"You heard me. Off with the leggings. Don't make me ask again," she repeated with a scolding tone and another broad, fiendish smile dotting it.

"Why? What for?!" he gasped. Varian felt a slight twinge of fear and reluctant curiosity at the thought of exposing himself in such a way to this banshee queen that he despised so much.

"I think you already know the answer to that question. I'm curious to see how...royal you are down there," she laughed resonantly. "Now...open up the pants."

Varian felt the rage welling up within him at the prospect of submitting to the whims of this undead wench. It was bad enough that he ran the risk of losing two hundred prisoners and key strategic holdings in Lordaeron, but now he was also risking losing his dignity at the hands of the queen of the Forsaken?

"You are truly more twisted and insane than I thought if you think that I would ever give you the satisfaction of doing such a preposterous thing!" he barked at her angrily.

She shrugged, giving a mock sigh and preparing to depart again. "As you wish. Executing prisoners, including civilians, is an ugly business. But, I do what I must. It's quite unfortunate that you must live with the shame of knowing that their blood is on your hands, King Varian."

Just as she walked away, back in the direction of the Forsaken frontline, Varian growled in bitterness and distaste.

"Damn it, stop, wait!" he angrily shouted after her.

When Sylvanas looked at him again, the human king's proud pose was now slumped and dejected looking. The red flare on his scarred face and his shaking head left no doubt that he looked truly and utterly defeated. Sylvanas relished the display as if it were magic to her.

"I'll do it," he said softly, biting his tongue as the words left his mouth. He shook his head, giving a silent prayer to the Light that no one else was around to witness this indignity.

Sylvanas folded her arms, giving a wicked grin as she sat back to enjoy the show. Varian's shaky hands went to the waistline of his leggings. His fingers made for the clasps that held the armor leggings in place while the banshee queen watched, running a hand in a smooth circle across her pale stomach absently.

When the clasps were undone, Varian's fingers hooked at the waistline and he slowly, gradually eased the leggings down. As he did this, Varian looked neither at his legs nor at Sylvanas; rather, he was looking up at the sky, reveling in a world of his own shame.

All at once, he felt a chill brush over his groin as he had lowered his leggings down to his thighs, leaving his entire crotch region exposed into the cool air. Simultaneously, he had felt his maleness --semi-erect from a combination of anger, adrenaline, and reluctant arousal- spring out of his breeches for the unadulterated viewing pleasure of the banshee queen before him.

Sylvanas made a serene 'mmm' sound before she put her hand up, stopping him. "That's far enough," she commanded him, causing Varian to stop easing the pants down his leggings to the point that only his crotch, and more specifically, his manhood, was exposed.

She licked her plush blue lips with admiration as she observed the human king's marvelous member. Enemy or no enemy, she couldn't deny that his endowment was quite impressive. Even in a semi-flaccid state, she could tell that he was rather thick by human standards, and even in this somewhat soft form, she could also tell that his length surpassed a reasonable margin. She suspected that, if fully hard, he could very well match some of the Horde's more virile of male specimens.

Sylvanas felt a flutter pass over her loins, culminating in a familiar moistness secreted by her womanly orifice. She was then overcome with the desire to see this tool fully erect, as well as to see her enemy overcome with ever more shame knowing that, under her unwanted ministrations, he would become sexually aroused and ready to submit to whatever she wanted.

She clapped her hands at the "performance" that he'd put on. "Bravo, bravo, my dear king!" she joyously chuckled. She approached the rigid human warrior as he clenched his fists, grit his teeth, and his semi-hard cock bobbed and pulsed with the first signs of life.

When she was close enough to him, she discarded her bow onto the ground and reached a nimble hand down to his groin. Varian flinched and abruptly threw a hand up to shove her away as her hand traced along his inner thigh, just below his plump, virile pair of balls.

"Uh uh uh," she scolded, continuing to run a hand across his thigh. "If you want your prisoners intact, you'd better behave."

Varian unclenched his fists and reluctantly relaxed. It took every fiber of his willpower not to reach his hands out right now and snap her neck for this.

She smiled sweetly. "Good boy," she said with mock praise.

After some teasing along his thigh and a few gentle caresses and squeezes at his testicles, the banshee queen's small hand encircled his manhood. Her fingers wrapped themselves around his pillar of flesh, causing it to pulse with renewed life and him to give a soft groan from the feeling.

She gave him a few gentle squeezes, coaxing a little more blood to flow into his cock, before her encircling fingers began to stroke along his member. Varian tried to distance himself from the feeling as Sylvanas used her skillful fingers to explore every ridge and vein along his shaft and bring reluctant pleasure and more hardness to it.

"That's it, big boy, just sit back and let yourself get nice and hard for Sylvanas. Mmm, I can feel it growing longer and longer in my hand," she whispered into his ear, biting his earlobe afterward.

Varian, deep down, nearly felt worse than the day that Garona murdered his father and the Horde burned Stormwind to the ground. All manner of honor and respect that he commanded as king was gone in this very moment as he was forced to bear witness to the sight and feeling of the undead leader stroking away at his cock with gentle caresses. And the worst part about it was...it felt good. He tried to stifle hidden groans as the last woman in Azeroth that he would want to be exposed to was rubbing and squeezing away at his maleness, stroking more hardness into it and causing it to expand outward to its full potential under her handiwork.

When it had reached its full, substantial expanse, Sylvanas looked down at the large pillar of flesh within her hands. Beneath her leather leggings, her pussy juiced up more from watching the human king's cock grow harder and larger.

"Oh my," she gasped. "Yes...very royal indeed. A royal scepter, worthy of a king," she giggled, giving a peck on his cheek that caused Varian to cringe.

"I'll bet you have a harem of concubines fawning over this cock of yours, don't you?" she asked him with a large grin, looking into his face.

Varian cold demeanor and sideways glance told her everything she needed to know. Even as her hands continued to stroke away at his cock, smearing a small collection of his precum around the thick head, she continued to taunt him verbally.

"Aww...you don't, do you? The last lucky woman that you skewered with this glorious weapon of yours was the late queen, wasn't it? Well, I'm sure she thoroughly enjoyed that...while it lasted," she giggled madly.

Varian's lip literally quivered with anger. The fact that this banshee bitch dared to refer to his beloved, long-lost wife, Tiffin, in such a way nearly made him forget about everything involving the Gilnean prisoners, his virtues, and all the principles that made him a steady leader.

Sylvanas seemed to sense his inner torment. She smiled through her teeth at him before collecting a dollop of clear precum on the tips of her gauntlets and licking it off with her tongue.

"Ooooh, I'll bet that makes you very angry, doesn't it?" she teased, craning her head near him and licking his cheek with another uninhibited giggle. The banshee apparently had no qualms about provoking him further, despite her being pressed precariously close to him so that she was within his reach.

"You want to kill me so badly, don't you? That hate is just rising up inside of you and you want to release it somehow," her supernatural voice echoed into his ear.

Varian didn't respond. He was still consumed by several simultaneous impulses, even as the banshee queen continued to run her tiny hand along the length of his comparatively hefty cock, from shaft to bulbous base smoothly.

"Or...the alternative option is...why don't you pull these leggings and panties of mine off to the side and impale my tight little pussy on that thick, meaty shaft of yours? Why don't you fuck all that anger right out of your system..." she tempted him while using one hand to squeeze at his shaft in a milking motion, conjuring up more precum glaze at his thick cockhead.

To enfeeble him further, she roughly gripped the back of his brown hair by his pony tail and tugged his head down so that he was forced to look down at her. She spread her legs apart and her fingers pulled at a leather loincloth situated between her leggings, covering her crotch. With a few simple tugs, the leather covering between her leggings was gone, revealing the pale blue flesh of her inner thighs, along with a pair of black silken panties concealing her privates.

Varian's blue eyes reluctantly remained transfixed on the sight of Sylvanas using two nimble fingers to ease the black panties off to the side. A string of pussy juice clung to the band of her panties as they were shifted to her right inner thigh and her bare, glistening pussy was exposed to the night air for the human king to view. Now, like him, the only thing not concealed by armor was her sex.

It may have been dark, but Varian could still discern the banshee queen's glistening slit under the illuminating moonlight. Her pale blue lips were moist with her arousal as evidenced by the shiny twinkle that they emanated under the moon. Sylvanas shoved a middle finger up into her juicy twat, fingering herself with audible squelches that caused Varian to shiver, all the while her hand gripped his head and faced it downward so that he was watching this.

She shook her head with a mock sigh. "Uh oh, now you've done it. Rubbing my hands all over that meaty, kingly cock of yours has gotten me wet. Hmm...what are we do in this situation? I suppose there's only one thing we can do with a hard cock and a wet pussy..." she whispered fiendishly while fingering her twat and flicking a thumb along the head of his warm cock.

He grimaced at her words, feeling disgusted with the prospect of fornicating with the undead banshee queen. He found this woman to be utterly despicable in every sense of the word. And yet, a small part of him found himself horribly aroused by the idea. Despite being a twisted manifestation of evil, Sylvanas still retained the gorgeous, curvy body that she possessed in life. Her luscious form, even with its darker attributes, was capable of stirring the cock of even the most stoic of males.