The Feud Ch. 04: Finale

Was she dead? Was this her departure from the mortal shell? It was strange, and it was not peaceful, but horrid. She felt hungry, thirsty, so thirsty—three-weeks-without-water-in-Tanaris thirsty. Her heart was pounding— "That doesn't happen when you die. Your heart doesn't beat when you die."

Her eyes flew open, and all she could see was energy.

Strands of mana in the room floating like cerulean spidersilk drifted in and out of space. The violet eyes upon the wall focused upon her for the crowd to view her death. And in the center of this galaxy was fel energy; a beautiful, man-shaped sun of emerald standing before her. It was the embodiment of the heavens, a manifestation of all that was glorious and good. It would free her from her final torment, from this arena, from all the burdens of civilization and the wretched, manipulative denizens that infested it. It was without beginning or end. It was her savior.

-------------------------

Justice had never been more absolute, victory never sweeter. Victor cowed the elf and brought her gently to submission, the very instrument of Thelise's would-be salvation being that of her killer's demise. Tossing away the glass vessel, he looked upon his prize with delight and disgust as she sat like a battered ragdoll, partially crumpled, face blank and mouth agape with passive awe. Finally Victor had the time to take in her features; her slender nose, her sun-kissed skin and pink lips, split with a cut. Anadia's eyes were as bright as dying candles, her lids flickering rapidly as the woman within silently cried out to be fed.

This is what Thelise wanted people to see, to understand. A blood elf drained of their corruption was but a husk, a cage of skin and bone around a heart that beats only for mana. Victor looked to the violet eyes upon the walls as they stared intently back. He wondered if they would stop him from what was to come. In the chamber overhead, chanting could be heard; words lost to the thrumming pipework, but he knew it to be his people. Their stomping, their hammering, their cries for blood. Just this time, and only this time, he would deny them.

Shutting his eyes and turning his palms to the ceiling, Victor meditated upon the darkness within him, honing upon his self-serving thoughts and desires, immersing himself in his ego, his fear and despair, and reconnecting with his anger. He took and held a deep breath, feeling energy build in his chest—a scream begged to erupt from his body, but was withheld. The warlock trembled as he had successfully willed his Dark Soul, rendering his power far more potent and his energies imposingly unstable.

Anadia awoke immediately from her doll-like stupor and leapt at him like an animal onto prey. Her arms wrapped around his neck and their lips locked—"That's it," Victor thought. It took all he had to ignore the wafting scent of singed hair and flesh as she seemed attacked him with affection. A low chuckle rose from him as he grabbed her at the hips without resistance and met her tongue with his own, knowing fully well that his fel energy was being drawn into her body. Anadia's knees buckled. "She's desperate for me," Victor mused in his head, "This is perfect!"

He and the mindless addict continued to kiss until he grew sick of the coppery taste of blood. Anadia's hands immediately began to busy themselves at the outline of Victor's prick. He wouldn't allow that to happen—not again, not yet. This time he would be the one in control, and he would have his own needs set first. He pushed the elf back and grabbed the top of her mail jerkin. With his empowered magic, he was able to focus his power and melt the chainlink inches at a time. Anadia hissed and whimpered, but whether it was in pain or in lust, Victor did not care. He tore the jerkin from her body and pulled it back over her arms, revealing her bare chest to the world above. It was important that everyone to see the woman as he saw Thelise. He would treat her as he did Thelise. He would degrade her as he did Thelise. Perhaps this would allow her to forgive him.

Truthfully, Victor did not know if that was true... but it wouldn't stop him from trying.

The tight sleeves of her jerkin bound her wrists, leaving the warlock to maul and molest her exposed breasts. The hunter wanted more from him, but he refused her needs. Victor's patience would only make her more volatile, and volatility is what he wanted the crowd to see.

-------------------------

Anadia shook with joy as her celestial mentor granted her bliss beyond the very meaning of the word. His kiss empowered her, his touch lightened her, and everything else seemed to make all the colors around her glow vibrantly. She breathed deep to center herself for the next teaching.

An outline appeared around the apparition like silver lining around a nebulous cloud of green. She could make out his features only for moments at a time as he moved. Large, sturdy hands traveled to her waistline—searing light burned her, but then more weight disappeared. Where flesh once was, there was only emptiness now; the curvature of her thighs was replaced by twinkling stars akin to a constellation. It was a marvelous experience to be nothing. Anadia felt as if she could fly around the room, but all she wanted was to orbit her sun—to enjoy his presence, his gifts, to please him and serve him for the eternity of afterlife.

His hands took shape again and rubbed between her legs. Pressure—then pleasure. The effect was gradual, but knowledge came immediately. Anadia would give anything to unite with the spirit, and the spirit, too, seemed to enjoy partaking in her feminine energy. She gasped, moaned, and felt her form buckle at its blessing, acquiring strength with every small thrust of his fingers like music from an instrument. She wanted to show her appreciation, but he seized her by the throat and forced her to look above. Within the void, a window, and within the window, hundreds of angelic faces stared down at Anadia. She was elated that they would witness the celestial tribute her like this, and wished for them to join in as well.

Freeing her hands from her back, she boldly pushed away the being's arms and took a pose of prayer. Anadia reached at last for the epicenter of his masculine energy. It was not graceful, but she finally grabbed onto something that filled her palms. It was large enough to hold in two hands, but she would take it all into her mouth if she could—and she tried in earnest. An electrifying taste tickled her buds, but she wouldn't shirk or insult her guide. She embraced the feeling of the member in her mouth and rolled her tongue back and forth over the bulbous head, back and forth, on and on until the shocking sensation subsided for a salty, flesh-like taste. Sickly sweet nectar began to coat her tongue and spread along her inner cheeks. She drank it down immediately.

The elixir was clarity, it was truth. She lapped it up faster than it could flow from its spring. Up and down, she bobbed her head upon his shaft to coax more of her enlightenment from within. Drop after drop, she seemed to understand more and more, and it only encouraged her to improve her performanc. The salty taste grew more potent as she pressed her tongue harder on her mentor's cock. A man's groan boomed over Anadia's thoughts, filling her mind with its volume. It was so excruciatingly loud that she was forced to stop, but the foreign object continued to penetrate her lips without regard for her discomfort. It was no longer illuminating, and the sting of the alien entity clutching at her hair only summoned alarm and panic.

Her quickened pulse expedited the return of her senses. Opening her eyes, Anadia saw that her divine guide was instead a monster.

-------------------------

Victor pumped himself into her mouth, the head of his penis gliding over and probing against the back of her tongue. As he gripped the roots of her hair, cruel humor forced a smile on his lips, thinking of what it would be like to suffocate her on his prick. Bending his knees and jamming his rod more directly into the orifice, he tested the idea some, reaching new depths in her tight elven throat with a few firm thrusts. Anadia gagged—held her own—and coughed wetly. After exploring this possibility several times, Victor looked down at her red, tear-strewn face, and concluded that even this was too generous a death for Thelise's murderer.

Withdrawing from Anadia's mouth at last, he pulled on her hair and smeared his shaft over her face, wiping her cheeks clean with her own spit and announcing new meaning for the huntress before their spectators above. The woman's lips parted naturally for his dick, but would receive no more of his attention. Victor yanked her up by the ponytail. She obeyed his brutish command, staggering to her feet, but it was then that he saw that her mind had returned. Perhaps pain had awakened her, but if that were true, why hadn't she fought back?

"Ha, I bet you're enjoying this, aren't you?" Victor said, manhandling her chest with his free hand. Her face showed only small discomfort, clearly suppressing her reactions as he pinched and toyed with her breasts. Even Anadia's ignorant silence turned him on—Victor stroked his cock before her, eyeballing what little remained of her attire: a simple red thong, trimmed with golden thread. His gaze returned upward to meet her own. "But I know what you really want."

Jacking himself harder, the warlock produced another helping of precum from the tip of his manhood with the thought of how pleased Vereesa would be at this spectacle. He could imagine the amply busted high elf squirming with delight in her seat as he facefucked the huntress, how debaucherously grateful she would be for his service to the Alliance. For now Victor would give her something more for her to touch herself to. Rubbing his masculine secretions over Anadia's lips and pushing it between, she sucked on him like it were a lollipop. Her tongue ran over its tip and cleaned the outside of her mouth on his departure.

"That's it," he whispered, "feed."

Her eyes and pupils widened enough for Victor to see the fireworks behind them. She pounced on the warlock like a Stranglethorn tigress, but even as he staggered back, his sneer clung to his cheek. There was no danger. Anadia's hands shot toward his armor rather than his throat, grabbing and clawing at the felweave regalia like flames beyond all control; unhooking, untying, and tearing at all that she saw. The warlock lifted his knee up against the dampened crotch of her panties, and the blood elf replied desperately by rubbed herself against him. Anadia's eyes fluttered. Her panting grew loud. Her nails nicked his flesh.

She was wild magic.

She was chaotic energy.

She was Victor's to wield, and Victor's to break.

-------------------------

Anadia's return to the land to the living had been a most lewd awakening. She had cried at how badly she wanted to choke—on his meat, on her spit, on his semen, it didn't matter. She desired death, and it further eluded her as she became a passenger in her own body. When the warlock pushed his thumb into her mouth and smeared his foul essence upon her lips and tongue, the familiar and intoxicating weight swelled within her head and followed down through from vein to limb, from limb to every finger and toe. The heady tincture of fel energy was all the more potent with how long the blood elf had withheld from it, and she fell forward and out of her own control.

Anadia lost all sight of her opponent and saw only a source for precious mana, too slowed to stop her own movements as she watched her hands shred away his attire. Her womanhood ached and tingled with need, and it was met with short-lived relief as Victor gave her something to grind upon. Still, it was no distraction from the steely prize standing erect before her. She pulled her thong aside and seized it, pushing him directly against the lips of her elven cunt. She guided Victor carefully toward her entryway until the lightly curved head poked ever so gently inside.

Her movements were compulsive. Like being electrocuted, there was no control, and no way to stop it. Anadia realized the ridiculousness of her behavior, but it was too late. She felt herself peel in two—her hot insides divided by a pillar of flesh and muscle. She gasped, and her cheeks burned hot with embarrassment. Anadia's eyes rolled up to the face of her assailant—his unkempt goatee, the wrinkled cheeks which bore the lode of his foul smirk, the hazel daggers that carved into her skin as she felt his prick fill her. A hole above his head hung like a halo over the devil, but within it she could see faces—the faces she thought were angels were a mortal audience, looking down on them in both rapt awe and contempt as Victor violated his opponent.

The initial hurt would be worth it, she thought, and she guided the warlock further in by lifting her leg up over his hip. Her fix was life, her fix was control, her fix was freedom from this suffering. Victor was a fervorous partner, be he seemed to know enough to take his time in his endeavors, slowly testing her body, in and out, little by little pushing himself deeper inside until at last she felt his balls tap upon underside of her ass. Being full of him, unable to hold anymore, Anadia emitted a heated sigh onto his chest—he pushed again even deeper, his swollen head poking at the entrance of her cervix. It was brief, sharp sting, and Anadia squealed in protest. None of this appeared to faze him in the slightest.

Victor grinded into her with slow, deliberate movements, coaxing more lubricant from her with each thrust. Anadia focused on her goal—what she needed to survive this ordeal—and squeezed against him. His haughty expression faded as she gripped his lance. With every ounce of darkness she sucked out of him, she recovered, grew stronger. She only hoped he would be too stupid or horny to notice. Clarity seeped into her and purged the fog from her mind—"My plan must be working," she said aloud. He smiled, unable to discern her elegant language, taking it only as a cue to fuck her faster.

He filled her elvish cunt, the ridge of his head clipping her g-spot several times. Her toes curled and teeth clenched. "That's it, that's it, that's it..." she said with every thrust, staring hard into Victor's eyes. She bit down on her lip as his scrotum slapped against her nethers, the unmistakable clopping sound serving as icing to her cake. Victor was getting closer to his release, closer to her renewal. She clenched hard against him, reaching down to find her clitoris, dressing it in her own juices with a single motion. Anadia was tempted to bring herself to orgasm, but her gratification was secondary to her and irrelevant to him; she wanted his cum. She wanted to be pumped so full of it that it would trickle down her thighs. She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, unwilling to let him go, and reached up to place her moistened finger into the warlock's mouth. He sucked it clean to the nail.

"That's right, lick it clean, dog."

Victor's rod glided in and out of her body, stirring her pot until it foamed with her secretions. She held fast to his neck, eyes affixed upon him as he began to slow. The end was near, and Anadia called for it with soft, breathy sighs and small squeals of joy.

"Mmm, c'mon... more... give me more..."

The blood elf's enthusiasm was for his seed alone, but the act itself wasn't displeasing or unfun. Her calves pressed against his back and she clutched him with every movement, squeezing hard on his throbbing cock. "What a dumb fucking animal you are— Come on, fuck me... fuck me, you ugly brute. Fuck me!"

The warlock grunted like a trogg and withdrew. Shock and hubris grappled Anadia as she thought she faced the loss of her prize. Suddenly she found herself being spun onto her stomach, ass on display for the world. He smacked it hard two, three, four times— a display of violent approval for his sheath. Anadia winced, but the sting told her she was still breathing, still conscious, still in this fight. No further discomfort was necessary in this regard, but as she felt his girthy member against the rear entrance, she knew far more was in store.

-------------------------

"If this blood elf whore has any innocence left to take, I'll claim it here, now, before the eyes of her people." He pressed the tip of his dick hard against her rectum, but made almost no head-way. He placed his fingers within his mouth and slowly used them to penetrate and pervade her body. Inching them inside digit by digit, Victor stretched her against the backdrop of sighs and sounds of protest. Even when he reached knuckle, he did not stop pushing, driving and pumping into her elven body with his hand until Anadia squealed so loudly all of Dalaran would hear it.

Victor's efforts to ready his opponent's orifice were working. The process had done nothing to calm him, and his prick still stood like a tree branch. Anadia dropped her head to the wooden crate, but he would not let it remain. Victor grabbed hold of her tangle of red hair, twisted it around his fist, and plunged his rod into her ass. She screamed. The fit was far from easy, or perfect. In spite of his generous preparation, every inch of his manhood was taken only begrudgingly by her body.

None of this stopped him.

Her hole was almost unbearably tight, but the sound of her cries disrupted his fun. As much as he enjoyed the punishment he was bestowing upon Anadia, the piercing sound in his tears tore him out of away from the simple joy of brutalizing the young elf.

"This would be much..." He grunted, "... easier.. if you'd.. just... shutup," he said between thrusts. He bent down over her and pulled her fiery mane to the side.

"Take it," he growled into her ear.

"Take it," and he pumped her again.

"Take it, take it," deeper he went, "Take it you slut!"

His cock swelled hard against her inner walls. Being able to do this almost made him forget the frustration of losing his ally, the object of his affection, the reason for doing this at all. Anadia had quieted now, and fucking her ass for so long without resistance was pleasing enough to make him want to keep her as his own, a slave for his use, a small reward for avenging Thelise and humiliating the blood elves. The throaty moan that came from the whore only told Victor that she agreed.

Surely her life could be spared. This blood elf was no match for Victor, and much less-so a concern to the Silver Covenant. He would do what he came here to do, and she would leave with him willingly, on her knees like the animal she was. The front his thighs clapped quietly against her lusciously full cheeks. He continued work her rectum more, more, until the familiar feeling of climax brewed and rose up along his manhood, threatening release.

-------------------------

Anadia wondered what sort of life she would have after this, if one at all. Relinquishing whatever dignity she had left, she reached down between her thighs and massaged the tender lips of her cunt, wetting her fingers and sliding them up against her hooded clit as Victor continued to assault her body. The discomfort subsided quickly—men had taken it from her before, but this was still different. The blood elf shut her eyes from the world, thinking of how she was destroying her reputation and dishonoring her people. She thought of Staci, what she must have thought in watching this.

Her eyes opened again, narrowed in small ferocity. What would she say, now? What brilliant solution or condescending shred of advice would she develop this time? Anadia thought of how much Staci had 'helped' her, and yet it was clear that it was always to her own ends, to improve her own image, to further her political agendas. She thought of how quickly she must be backing out of their sisterhood now, how she must be stammering explanations to her peers, how she might even claim her own twin was adopted! Anadia smiled at the thought of her sister suffocating, drowning beneath every false, self-promotional word of praise she had uttered about her. She relished the idea of Staci being every bit as humiliated as Anadia was. The titillation only caused her to throw herself deeper into her activity.