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“Is that him?”
“What… Remains, sir. But as promised, you can see him.”
“See him? I can see how much you have abused him. Where is your honor?”
The nervous sidelong glance from the Human was all that was needed. Same as for the hand scratching his neck or the way he tightened his grip on the clipboard. As for Thrall, as for the green-skinned Warchief, he looked less than pleased.
Already, Thrall was known as a force of nature, a monster of power and might. Someone who wielded elements. And yet, he had his hammer at his hips, his armor cinched around him. And his glare was enough to make anyone, even those hailing from the Horde, want to shrink.
The representative of the SI:7? Oh, he would have preferred to be somewhere else.
And for a reason.
After a few parleys and discussions, Thrall stood in the Royal Stables. With Deathwing’s rampage on the city, it had been deemed ‘cunning’ to reassign Garrosh to those stables.
And to have him used by all the breeding stallions in Stormwind. The latest detail was obviously omitted during the parley.
But one that couldn’t be ignored when a bay-coated Stallion was joyfully pummeling Garrosh’s guts, the Orc laying over a phantom mare he clutched.
The Warrior’s body? A ruin. His belly was stuffed and full of foals. His chest, tense and an expression of might, was reduced to a pair of hefty, leaking breasts.
As for the cunning intelligence of the Orc? It seemed far gone when he was drooling on the Phantom mare, his eyes opening and closing alternately.
Not a good sign. Thrall grumbled, shaking his head.
“No. There’s none,” he grumbled, his right hand reaching for his hammer. “I was here to see if Garrosh’s well-being was ensured. I see you’ve been…”
Thrall paused, listening to the neigh from the stallion while the lanky human was red-faced.
“You have been working to humiliate the Horde. I shall bring him back to Orgrimmar.”
“Wait. You can’t,” replied the Human, raising his clipboard.
“And why not? You’ve not respected the treaty; I shall do the same.”
A sentence filled with purpose as Thrall raised the Doomhammer. The metal glowed with power, with might, while Thrall took a deep breath and opened his eyes.
Yet, a second later, he closed them.
Two darts protruded from his neck while their poison seeped into the Orc’s veins, making him foam and shake on the ground as if taken by seizures. His fingers twitched on the ground, while a Night Elf jumped off the trusses above. She dusted her armor and then looked at the foaming Thrall. So easily taken down.
“What did you do? He’s their Warchief!” cried the Representative.
“Eh. It was easy to take him.”
“We need to report to the crown! We need to bring him back!”
“No need. We only need to delay. Give us a few weeks,” she said, her tone devious.
The first sound that welcomed him was one of suction. As well as a burn behind him, making him twitch and clench his jaw. His fists tightened, but as he pulled, he couldn’t… Free himself. No, it was obvious he was chained, but beyond that… His world was darkness.
He had something wrapped around his head and over his eyes.
But he could still hear.
And feel. Hear how the orifice clenched around the fingers, squelching and sucking onto the covered digits. How the sphincter itself tried to slow down while a greasy sensation was forced down his pucker. It was… Warm. Pleasant… Not his first time.
But he definitely felt it as he grunted, lowering his head and making it meet a rigid pillar.
His hands were below him… No, he was reclined on something, his belly pressed against that pillar, and though he wanted not to imagine it… He was bound to a phantom mare.
It wasn’t the end of his humiliation as the rugged hand continued to pump inside him.
Closer… Closer. The knuckles brushed his inner walls, massaging and squeezing them.
It was nearing the spot… His prostate. His swollen spot… Just imagining the touch was enough to make Thrall’s breath go faster. His toes curled and… No. It didn’t end there.
Thrall sighed, pressing his forehead against the phantom mare, all to remove his blindfold.
“When I told them you were an ass whore, they never believed me, Thrall.”
The voice was jovial, yet with a hint of spite when it mentioned ‘they’. A spite that wouldn’t stop as the fingers were going deeper. Thrall huffed. Thrall grunted… Thrall tensed.
The Warchief shuddered, sweat pouring over his back as he felt it. A tremor in the good spot, one that was now lovingly nudged and circled… Teased but not crushed, titillated but not pleased. Thrall’s voice broke, feeling it. Feeling his orgasm, feeling… The freedom right on time as the blindfold slipped.
He was still in the stable, as seen by the wooden walls. They were not at the spot where Thrall saw Garrosh. He looked around, seeing they were in a sizable box. They.
Him… Garrosh on his right, bound like him to a phantom mare. And then the grizzled one-eyed veteran who was fisting Thrall.
Without a glove, the man was going into Thrall’s ass, pushing and digging into the wide donuthole while the Orc’s was still on fire, and his erection renewing.
“‘The Warchief? A cock whore? Do you have anything more stupid to say?’ They said,” groaned the Human before giving Thrall’s ass a spank, leaving a red mark behind.
Thrall’s asshole clenched around the wrist inside and, with the rotation pushed onto it, Thrall’s asshole burned. Bright again. Enough for the Orc’s eyes to roll and his cock to shoot… To coat the phantom mare and against his hairy belly.
“But I never told them in detail about your little outings when you were a young slave. Or the tales about your meeting with some Horde soldiers. Is that true? Taurens have flares like horses?” asked the Human.
Thrall grunted. Not because he wanted to, but because he could finally tell he was gagged. His tongue rolled on the metal ring placed inside his mouth, locking his jaw open so he could drool on the phantom mare.
“No. No need to answer. Just seeing that hole is enough to tell me they’ve got the same,” replied the Human, pulling his hand out of Thrall’s gaping hole. Hard.
His hole cried, burned, soared… It was as if hot-iron had been placed against it as his sphincter was extended out in a nice rosebud… Before the Human tucked it in, but not without giving Thrall a moment to enjoy the ‘torment’.
Only then did he snatch the gag out of Thrall’s mouth.
“Release me! Or you’ll endure the Ire of the Horde!” roared Thrall, before he was head-patted. Like… A puppy. Then, the Human went for Garrosh.
“The Ire will never come. That’s my job to make it so,” said the Veteran, patting Garrosh’s head and then pulling on the blindfold, then on the gag.
“You cannot keep me tied here! You already captured Garrosh, and he-“
“Garrosh is free,” said the Veteran, patting Garrosh’s head while the Orc stood up from the phantom mare. He was about to open his mouth, but the Human shushed him before he forced the Orc to move around.
“What have you done to him?”
“Shh. Admire,” said the Veteran, leading the future Warchief around like a pet… Before he had Garrosh posted in front of Thrall. And he looked so different. Horseshoe tattoos had been inked on his posterior and thighs.
His pride, his Orchood, was caged in a flat cage which seemed displeasing when Garrosh squatted in front of Thrall. Worse, his belly was… Swollen, sloshing audibly while Garrosh put his hand behind his neck, presenting that… Perverse body: wide tits, round belly, and wider thighs.
“He looks beautiful. Doesn’t it?” asked the Human, to the stunned Thrall. “Go on. Say what you desired to say to your new friend.”
“Thrall,” mumbled Garrosh with a hoarse voice. “You shouldn’t have come.”
It wasn’t a threat or a plea. Only a statement that made the stunned Thrall blink before he turned his head to the Human. Then back to Garrosh as he spoke.
“If you hadn’t come, I could have stayed here, Thrall. I- am no longer fit to fight.”
“What- Where’s your fire, Garrosh? Where- Where is your passion?” roared Thrall, his eyes widening. “What… What have you done to him?!”
“You saw it. But I trained him myself,” said the Veteran, approaching the squatting Garrosh to rub his head with one hand while reaching between the Orc’s thighs. “I conditioned myself so he would be a happy mare. It’d be a shame if I have to send him back in your stead.”
“What?”
“No!” cried Garrosh, interrupting it. “I- I can’t return.”
“But you must. Unless we break Thrall,” said the Veteran, cooing and playing with the cage, nudging it before he reached for the front and pulled on it. “I have two weeks to break him. But if I don’t, one Orc must leave to say everything’s well. And if it’s not him…”
Thrall was still reeling from the orgasm, still reeling as his asshole was clenching tightly, with the flesh attempting to close the gap, and not to be open to the four winds. However, it wasn’t enough….
Not enough to close his entrance as the Veteran approached it, and then stroked Thrall’s asshole before punching it back, sliding four fingers inside while Thrall’s spine tensed and he almost slid off the phantom mare.
“But you can help him learn. That’s what you want, don’t you… Garrosh?” asked the Human, his snickering obvious. “So you don’t have to leave your horse lover.”
“No!” roared Garrosh, even saluting like an Alliance soldier despite his body. “I shall help!”
Thrall shuddered at the tone, no different from an eager grunt going to war. Yet, the way Garrosh spoke… And the chuckle from the Human. It was deviance at its worst.
One Thrall was to experience when the Human stepped around after pulling out his fingers.
“I’ll fetch your lovers.”
Again, Garrosh saluted, while Thrall salivated on the phantom mare, this body still shaking from the sensation of its rim being stretched to the limit… To have his oversensitive prostate almost brushed and the sphincter punched back in.
He salivated, drooled, and sweated while he heard Garrosh going around, moving. Yes. The Orc was free.
“Quick… Garrosh,” groaned Thrall. “Undo my… Bindings. I’ll… Carve a path.”
“No can do.”
“What?” gargled and coughed Thrall.
“No. I can’t do that. I must help you embrace your true love, Thrall. That’s what I must do.”
“The… The spirits?” swore the green-skinned Orc. “What has gotten into you?”
“It’s…”
“He loves you.”
The interruption came again from the Human, bringing along two stallions. Two massive war horses. A breed made to endure the weight of a soldier and a caparison; they were hulking monsters with muscles coiling under their coats. Thrall watched them snort… And then noticed their erections between their legs.
They smelled a mare, and now they were horny, excited while the Human drove them around, and Garrosh jumped on his phantom mare, clutching it.
“He wouldn’t tell you because your kind doesn’t speak about feelings,” commented the Human, dragging one horse around Garrosh until the beast was him. That cock slammed against his ass. “But he loved you before he came here.”
Thrall snorted and grunted, but then… he saw Garrosh’s eyes, yellow, focusing on him… Then, the Orc grunted while that horsecock, that flare, slipped within him with such ease, without trouble. Without a break, the Orc hollered. He cried, he teared up… And he smiled.
Meanwhile, Thrall shuddered while watching the Human approach with the other horse, seeing that equine cock, pinkish with a median ring, bob up and down.
He shuddered, clutching the phantom mare when that horse was above him, the barrel pressed against his back.
“He fell into my hands. And now? He can’t think of anything better than my studs’ cocks. He begs for it days and nights… And when I ask about you, what does he say?”
Thrall huffed, closing himself off. He’d already grunted and threatened the human who seemed not to care. So it was better to let him underestimate his enemy.
“He says he’d be happy to have a fellow mare to share his favorite studs with.”
Thrall’s eyes widened.
They widened, not only from the jab and mockery from the Veteran. But from the squelching coming from his asshole closing on that cock. On that flare that punched with such ease. It was massive. It was a monster of throbbing flesh. It was heat given shape. It was a drill, a weapon, a rod, a mace. It pierced Thrall’s guts, and yet his guts were not that abused.
All the sensitivity, all the private ‘training’ with a few partners, every short moment of love and desire he’d had before… It was biting him in the back.
It was punishing Thrall… it was making him howl and cry, his jaw dropping and his eyes rolling while that rod, that powerful cock was crushing his swollen and hypersensitive prostate. He should have had it examined and healed it.
Not anymore.
Not when the pressure on the organ, far past the expected walnut-size, was mind-crushing. His nose filled with snot… His tongue lolled out, and so the stoic Warchief was nothing but a drooling mess. One whose head smacked against the phantom mare, the pain flaring and making him recover enough composure so he could close his mouth and grit his teeth.
But it was too late, too far. His cock was again hard, and he’d been shooting. Oh yes, he’d been cumming, with his hefty balls being yanked closer to his taint and abdomen while his cocktip sprayed on the phantom mare. It released a hefty amount, dripping all over his belly, on the wood, and then down into a puddle.
“Are you enjoying Brutus? He’s my favorite Orc-Breaker. He’s good at this.”
“You… Fiend… Th-e Horde,” groaned Thrall through his teeth.
Only one sentence before Thrall hollered again when Brutus’ cock hit his prostate square after it pulled back. The Orc’s spine arched, and his entire body was set on fire. His limbs tensed, pulling on the bindings until the sensation of fire spread through his muscles. Even then, the tension was nothing comparable to… To the bountiful joy of the horsecock crushing his prostate.
Thrall loved it, Thrall was enjoying it… Thrall was enthralled, taken… falling in love as that stud was pumping in and out, with that flare dragging his cunt out, pulling on his rim until it formed a tiny and lovely pink rosebud before it was smashed back inside and with his prostate along with it. He was seeing light; he was seeing stars… he was seeing the Human.
The Veteran, who grabbed him by the chin, lifting it while squeezing his cheeks… Just to observe the snorting, crying, and grinning Thrall.
He even patted his face, trying to bring the old Orc back, just to smile at him and pat his face.
“Do not worry. You’ll have them all. You’re not a tough nut… And I enjoy seeing Orcs crack when they get a taste.”
Thrall blinked, his mouth released. He fought to close it, to clench his jaw… His brows dropped in a frown, his eyes refocused.
“I-… Will… Take my reve-enhehehe!” cried and soared Thrall, his body and mind overtaken when his asshole sucked on the horsecock, squelching and squirting as he came again.
“No. ‘My Revenge’ is the last horse on the list. Don’t worry, you’ve got many more before that,” chuckled the Human, seemingly proud of his pun.
Not that Thrall cared; his mind blank again.
And it would blank more, as it was desired. No, yearned by the Veteran. By the ‘Master’ as he fancied to be called that way. He was but a stable master before the SI:7 decided to reallocate the prison. But now? Now, he was their cruel owner.
The one who woke the two Orcs sleeping together, spraying them with cold water to clean up the spunk and sweat on their bodies.
Only then were the two put in collars together and had to clean the stables together.
“Reduced… To… A mere stable boy again,” growled Thrall, his fists clenching.
“It matters not. We’re serving our husbands,” replied Garrosh with a genuine smile.
One that made Thrall worry as he looked at Garrosh and could only compare him to the warlike and proud Warrior from before. Now, he looked like a dutiful servant, one who could only convey his feelings by speaking about husbands and lovers. Or one who would praise his ruined body.
A body Thrall noticed was getting worse, with those tits sagging and filling up to the point of constantly leaking. It was obviously Garrosh’s face… But that body… It was befitting a broodmother more and more. Nothing more, nothing less, as even his genitals were but a footnote, something wilting away in that flat chastity cage.
Something… Thrall dreaded, as he often checked his body. Without bindings, he could pick at his chest and ass… He felt fat accumulate on them as his arms grew weaker.
But he couldn’t stop. Nor escape. The work remained then as he continued to clean the stables before the ‘Master’ came to pick them up.
The first time it happened, Thrall fought back, but then was strapped to the Phantom mare for two days, only allowed to drink and eat gruel while his ass was pummeled.
His mind… Still reeled at the idea. And his cock dripped weakly, while his asshole clenched and sprayed some of its lubricant. A… Change that happened quickly.
Those days? Thrall wasn’t fighting anymore as he followed the Human to the milking room. In there, they were forced to sit on equine dildos, a smaller facsimile of their ‘lovers’, and to have their nipples sucked on by goblin machinery.
For hours, they would be milked with Garrosh groaning and moaning and even… Repeating to Thrall how better it was to be milked by one or to offer his milk to foals.
Thrall… He couldn’t tell it was so good. But he couldn’t deny the sensation as his nipples were sucked on… or the sudden release, the orgasm he felt the first time he lactated.
Only one shot…
His nipples burned. His tits had definitely changed, now looking fatter than before and approaching a woman’s bosom. Yet… With a hairy body befitting a male.
A growing humiliation as he started to embrace or desire for those milking to happen, to reduce the ever-growing pressure in his breasts while he was praised by the ‘Master’ like a pet. He wasn’t a Warchief here, but a mere mare that was getting trained and abused… And taught to serve the human, to do his bidding and whatever perversion he yearned for.
Then, once milked.
It was time to be fed with a gruel that was laced with drugs. The purple coloration was obvious, but after a few days, Thrall tried to refuse the gruel. However, he found out that after one day without it; he was in withdrawal.
His asshole ached so much, and the mere contraction was sending him howling and cumming his brains out. His cock wouldn’t get hard, and his testicles would feel so hot, it was as if they’d been dipped into hot iron.
That experience taught Thrall to submit to the treatment, even though it was degrading and demeaning. And to eat that accursed gruel filled with goblin-made poison.
Then… it would be time for the horse treatment.
Strapped to the phantom mare, the two Orcs would then have to take the horsecocks one after another. And Thrall… Oh, Thrall was shuddering and yet have his asshole warm up at the mere thought.
Even his sagging tits were to lactate whenever he imagined himself getting stuffed by those massive rods, to have those throbbing lengths fucking his cunt until it squirted and went into a nice rosebud as they were pulled out.
His body was getting rounder, and his belly was constantly stuffed with cum. A belly that had a stretch mark at the beginning, but now was perfectly green, bloated, and tatted with a horseshoe on it. A ‘gift’ he received after his tenth day of treatment and ‘therapy’.
Ten days of roaring, fighting, spitting… And now begging for those cocks to stuff his cunt with foals.
Even when he was done, when the studs of the day were away… Thrall’s cunt would ache and crave for more… Would burn and torture him.
Even when he was strapped on the other side of the phantom mare, upside down, and his mouth gagged with a ring so a horse could use his throat.
It was his way to get his ‘protein supplement’, ‘Master’ would say, chuckling while smacking his massive tits and his tiny balls with his crop.
He knew he was giving in. He knew he was becoming like Garrosh.
He knew he was giving in to the abuse and becoming a mare… But the joy was enthralling, pleasant… So titillating as he smiled.
Smiled and sucked that cock with Garrosh, listening to his ‘protegee’ chugging on horse cum before it would be his turn… Before he, too, would make out with that massive urethra and that flare while that stinky cum would be pumped in his throat again and again.
That day…
“I am so happy you became a mare with me, Thrall,” moaned Garrosh, his tits and belly pressed against Thrall’s back while massaging and squeezing Thrall’s burning nipples.
Thrall’s cunt had been plugged, but it hurt. Yet, as he had Garrosh’s caged cock against his ass, he knew that no Orc could help him. Couldn’t help his craving, his new wants for a true… Stud’s cock.
“Garrosh, I…”
“No need to say anything. I understand, Thrall. You want to stay with them, don’t you?”
No need to answer… Not as Thrall’s asshole opened and let the plug slip out, unleashing a tidal wave of cum onto Garrosh’s wilting genitals.
“I heard Master has a plan.”
Thrall huffed.
The air was dry, and yet, the scent was driving him insane as he tried to hold his breath. As he tried not to show weakness despite the armor squeezing him. His breasts ached and were surely leaking on the undershirt… And his cunt was plugged, but it wasn’t enough… The fake cock wasn’t enough to titillate his aching prostate, to tease that enormous organ that constantly begged for attention, made Thrall gasp and reel whenever he had to sit down.
His cocklet? Master plugged it. His watery cumshots were unsightly. The pain was that he had to smile, to show a tough front as he guided Saurfang. The new ‘representative’ on that issue was there to ensure Garrosh and Thrall were not prisoners. He was expendable; even he knew it.
“So, the rumors about the illnesses were all true?” asked Saurfang, cocking an eyebrow.
“I couldn’t leave my quarters,” said Thrall while their steps went to the stables. “But everything is better now that the humans fixed this.”
“Fixed this?”
“I meant, healed me,” spurted Thrall, his eyes watching above for a second, seeing the face… While he approached the end of the stables, he was already listening to the moans and groans. Garrosh was already hard at work, and Thrall had to fight not to run.
“What’s this sound?”
“Oh… Garrosh is surely eating,” said Thrall, biting his lip.
“In the stables?”
“Oh yes. It’s very… Delectable!”
Saurfang's sidelong glance indeed betrayed his surprise… But as Thrall approached the stall, his body burned…. Until he couldn’t take it anymore and ripped the straps.
“Thrall? What are you doing?!” asked Saurfang, shouting while his eyes widened.
As the plates, so appeared Thrall’s body. Saurfang’s eyes went all over the old Orc.
He saw the massive chest with the pierced nipples… He saw that bulging belly, the flesh redder with a popped-out navel, with a piercing through and a horseshoe tattooed around. Then, there was that ass with more marks, even with a horse skull on a buttcheek.
All humiliating and degrading markings that Thrall enjoyed, as much as his changed body, as he cupped his nipples and squeezed them, making them spray the ground ahead with milk.
“I couldn’t wait any longer, Saurfang. My cunt is so eager,” moaned Thrall, yanking the plug off his hole as he scampered towards the stable where Garrosh was.
Perhaps Master would be dissatisfied and angry about making it so…
But Thrall couldn’t care anymore as he jumped on his knees and sat, with his asshole giving out and cum pouring again. His body pressed against Garrosh, finding that his tits were full-too… And that his foals were kicking against his as they were belly to belly…
Face-to-face, all with a horsecock in between.
Their mouths met and tangled, their tongues dancing while Thrall felt Garrosh’s fingers pulling on his nipples, tugging on the leaking tits until they sprayed and squirted all over Garrosh’s fingers. And even then… Garrosh wasn’t stopping.
Wasn’t stopping to go for another kiss. His breath was heavy with the musky aroma of horse cum while the sweet substance was offered, from mouth to mouth so Thrall could chug it and moan.
“I kept the best part for you,” moaned Garrosh, his mouth rushing again for Thrall.
In the distance, despite this, Thrall heard faint cries and stutter. He heard the boots, then the song of blades being pulled. Then, of harsher whisper.
But he didn’t care… He didn’t care as he looked at Garrosh, as pregnant as he was… Then at the horse cock between them, greasy and hard… Throbbing and smacking against the horse’s belly until Thrall had his lips pressed against the cock and making out with it.
The stench of piss was strong. But stronger was the sweet cum. Thrall chugged on, holding onto the flare with his two hands while he groaned and gulped… Ignoring that Garrosh’s fingers were on his buttcheeks, they were on his donut of a hole. On the protruding entrance between his buttcheeks to finger it… or rather insert his whole hand inside.
An entire Orc hand that went in without a trouble, without any pause except for a squelching sound… For a suction before Thrall’s mind was burning with desire.
His prostate, branded by horsecocks, was nothing more than a ruined organ.
He couldn’t cum without having it crushed or squeezed; he couldn’t be hard anymore unless it was from a horsecock… His Orchood had wilted away, much like Garrosh.
But as Garrosh’s fingers played with the swollen and softened Organ, Thrall moaned… Moaned and squirted between his legs, his caged cock spraying the stone ground while his thighs trembled…
He came, his asshole sucking on Garrosh’s fingers, loudly.
He came, with his inner walls squeezing on the cum currently stuck in his belly before it was sprayed all over Garrosh’s digits and hands… And then further, on the stable floor.
It was a flood, a cascade… But Thrall was too busy sucking on that horse spunk to cum from his faggasm… Or to have even his tits sucked on by Garrosh.
He didn’t care who could see him, if it was Saurfang, Cairne, Baine, or whoever else.
No… Thrall was too enthralled by the horsecock. By his love… By his care as he came again and again… His mind almost going blank.
“This is your future, now,” said Master. And Thrall couldn’t agree more. He couldn’t agree more as he finally peeled his mouth off to give Garrosh a kiss, to give his protegee the first load of cum he could keep for someone else.
And only then… Did he turn to the left.
Did he turn to the second mare… To their new partner, Saurfang.
Just as heavy, just as pregnant, just as ruined as they are. Though it was only his first pregnancy. He hadn’t had the pleasure of giving birth to a foal, to have them suckling on their nipples or biting them until they are red, swollen, and inflated.
But he looked just fine… Just fine when he, too, was riding the phantom mares…
They were happier, better… Even if their cunts couldn’t close anymore as they squirted all day… They were mares for studs. And they became much happier that way.-
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