It was finally time. The Siege of Orgrimmar had begun, and Garrosh Hellscream’s allies were far less than they could have been. Still, the orc wasn’t without his wits, and things had still taken a turn for the worst. There had been an assassination attempt on Vol’jin, leader of the Darkspear Tribe and well-respected member of the Horde.
 
This had made a coup attempt on Garrosh impossible, unfortunately. Things had taken a decidedly messy turn, and now they were stuck with the cards they had been dealt. Open rebellion was the name of the game now, at least when it came down to large swathes of the Horde. The only ones to follow Garrosh were his own race, and the vast majority of the goblins.
 
In turn, the Forsaken, Blood Elves, Tauren, Darkspear Trolls, and Huojin Pandaren had rebelled in what was now being called the Darkspear Rebellion. It unfortunately didn’t matter that Sylvanas had been planning Garrosh’s downfall the longest. She’d been doing so in secret, and honestly, it was preferable at this point that her actions remain somewhat obscured so that the parts of the Horde who had been loyal up to this point didn’t know just how much she’d betrayed not only Garrosh, but them as well.
 
Putting Vol’jin at the head of this rebellion, where the infuriated troll wanted to be in the first place… it was just plain smart. Regardless, Harry’s actions in the Throne of Thunder had begun to give him something of a reputation. The fact that he’d essentially spearheaded the assault all the way to the Thunder King himself, before ultimately delivering the final blow unto the tyrant… well, it’d been enough to propel his name into all the right places. Probably the wrong places as well, but Harry would deal with that when he got there.

Despite his age and his proclivities, it seemed he hadn’t fully grown out of being a hero. Which was why, when asked to go over battle plans to assist the Darkspear Rebellion, he’d accepted the role. He was now trying to complete that to the best of his ability, but unfortunately, a certain Banshee Queen was currently making that extremely difficult.
 
Sylvanas most certainly had at least half of his attention and concentration, mostly due to her bouncing breasts as they jiggled and dangled right in front of his face. The other half of his concentration was not turned onto the battle plans, however… no, there, he was focused on the constricting throat of one Lady Jaina Proudmoore as the human Archmage did her level best to take his cock deep down her gullet, not entirely of her own volition.
 
The Banshee Queen had deemed it compensation for having to eat the human’s ass out, and even now she sat on the back of Jaina’s head, grinning sadistically as she forced the Archmage’s lips to the base of Harry’s cock again and again. Sylvanas controlled her with a firm grip of her ponytail, lodged as it was between her bluish butt cheeks. But despite this truly deliciously decadent moment of debauchery, Harry was still trying to figure out what they were going to do about the first obstacle in their way.
 
Running his hands along Sylvanas sides, he grunts.
 
“Ladies… or at least Windrunner, do try to focus. We need to decide on how our forces should infiltrate the Dranosh’ar Blockade. I’ve heard tell that it’s undergone… renovations recently.”
 
Sylvanas chuckles at that, a throaty, deep chuckle that gives away her lust and her need and her desire. Still, she answers him all the same, running her fingers down Harry’s naked chest and licking her lips in anticipation and eager delight before doing so.
 
“Yesss, you’ve heard right, Harry. The leader of the Dragonmaw Clan, Warlord Zaela, has been put in charge of it. She’s a staunch follower of Garrosh Hellscream and will not go down easily.”
 
Harry lifts an eyebrow at that, and upon seeing the look on his face, Sylvanas actually blushes in the most adorable way at the reminder of just what he’d done with pretty much every female, no matter the race, that he’d ever come across.
 
“… So, you’re saying she’s a woman.”
 
A low, possessive growl erupts from the Banshee Queen’s throat, and though it’s probably ridiculous to think she can keep him from adding any more lovely ladies to his ever-growing collection, Sylvanas still gyrates across the back of Jaina’s head almost angrily, forcing the Archmage down a bit before she’s ready, and holding her there a bit too long.
 
When Sylvanas finally lets Jaina up this time, she doesn’t fight back, needing the air. But that’s exactly what the Banshee Queen was planning for, because Harry’s about to blow. Jaina finds herself dragged off of his massive cock with a pop as her lips leave his tip. And then Sylvanas’ cunt is taking her place, just as Harry starts to blow. The undead elf drags Jaina away like a used toy and claims the white, hot reward that the Archmage has just spent all this time earning for herself. Her red eyes roll back in her head as her head in turn tilts back as well, and a throaty moan of ecstasy escapes her lips while Harry’s seed paints her womb white and gives her renewed life for a little while.
 
Jaina, her throat sore as she gasps and rasps for breath, can only glare at the Banshee Queen as Sylvanas drapes herself over Harry. As if sensing that glare, Sylvanas looks back at the disgruntled human woman and with an impressively impish smirk on her face, reaches back and spreads her cheeks, squeezing out her butt plug through the strength of her anal muscles alone.
 
It bounces off of Jaina’s forehead, causing the Archmage to flinch back in momentary disgust, even as she grows more incensed. But Sylvanas isn’t done, now spreading and smacking her own ass cheeks, moaning as a sense of feeling that the undead are not meant to have rushes through her breathing form. Harry’s cum, not from just now by the day before, begins to leak out of her previously plugged behind, and Sylvanas lifts an eyebrow to go along with her impish smirk as she offers it up to Jaina, right then and there.
 
Momentarily disgusted, but also desperate for the taste she’s been denied, not even Jaina’s reservations can keep her from leaning forward and beginning to eat out the Forsaken’s cum-stuffed asshole. Harry just smiles indulgently as he watches Sylvanas play with Jaina, knowing that this was no permanent paradigm shift or anything like that. The Archmage was obeying Sylvanas begrudgingly, and things would eventually turn back around, once Jaina felt like she no longer owed the Banshee Queen, or whatever this was.
 
Today it was Sylvanas, impaled on his cock, kissing him, running her fingers down his chest as she presses her breasts into his front while Jaina ate out her ass, causing her cunt muscles to squeeze and massage his schlong all too deliciously. Tomorrow it might very well be Jaina in her place, their roles switched as the female Archmage took HER due from the Banshee Queen.
 
Either way, Harry came out on top, like he always did. And that was all that mattered.
 
-x-X-x-
 
In the end, after all was said and done (meaning Harry fucked both the Queen of the Forsaken and the Leader of the Kirin Tor into blissful oblivion), he ultimately decided that there was really only one choice that made sense at this point in time. Seriously, he wasn’t about to KILL this Warlord Zaela. Not when he could convert her instead, like he’d done with so many women before her.
 
But then, how to best approach the Blockade? Simple, infiltrate and cut off the head by capturing and spiriting away their leadership. Of course, while some might say that sending in a five-man team to capture and abscond with Zaela might work best, but Harry? Harry was used to working alone on these things, and his special brand of magic meant that he really did stealth best when it was just him.
 
And with the return of the Deathly Hallows, Harry wasn’t just stealthy, he was practically nonexistent. To be fair, ever since they’d come back to him, he hadn’t had much use for the other two, leaning instead on the Elder Wand when need be. But now his father’s old Invisibility Cloak was coming out to place, and with it, Harry was hidden from all magical forms of detection.
 
A couple spells centered around further obfuscating his scent and even the smallest sounds from walking completed the ensemble and left him all but undetectable to most senses. The only thing he couldn’t actually ward against entirely was the sense of touch. The best he could do was put a muggle repelling ward up and see if it worked on non-magical orcs and the like.
 
To be fair, so far it seemed to be doing a fairly good job. Harry had made his way past the two towers that made up the forefront of the Dranosh’ar Blockade and was now sneaking into the camp itself proper. This late at night, most were asleep, but there were still plenty awake and plenty to avoid. Harry dodges around them one and all, searching out his target. He doesn’t have an inkling what this Zaela looks like, beyond the fact that she has gray skin like all other Dragonmaws. He also expects her to be the most armored or the most imposing at least… and that’s how he ultimately stumbles upon her, berating a Dark Shaman as she snarls in the other orc’s face.
 
“Do you think this is a game?! Do you think that for a second we can afford to be lax, be lazy?!”
 
“N-No, Warlord!”
 
“Then get back to fucking work, and don’t let me see you slacking off again, you worthless piece of dragon dung!”
 
Like that, the sufficiently cowed Dark Shaman scurries away. From what Harry has heard from their spies, these Dark Shamans are Garrosh’s newest toy, his attempt at leveling the playing field by twisting and corrupting and subjugating the elements. The actual Shamans among the Darkspear Rebellion, led by the previous Horde Warchief, Thrall… are of course furious.
 
Still, for Harry this means that he’s most certainly looking at THE Warlord Zaela as she watches the Dark Shaman flee from her with a snarl, before ultimately turning and stomping towards a large tent. Harry walks after her, seeing quite a bit of value in waiting until the Warlord is out of view from prying eyes to take her.
 
She enters the tent and he follows, pleased to find that there’s no one else inside and it is indeed her personal tent, a large pile of furs off in the corner that she undoubtedly sleeps on and a few other things besides… but altogether, it looks quite savage. This isn’t Harry’s first experience with orcs though. Uda the Beast was now his pet, but there was no denying that the Dalaran Innkeeper had turned the tavern she operated into a slice of home away from home, the orcish culture evident in the primal and tribal design she’d gone with.
 
The orcs, the trolls, the tauren… they were all savages by the social norms he’d grown up with. But at the same time, he was a long way from home now, and he knew better than to look down upon them or belittle their intelligence just because they seemed to be living only partially removed from the stone age. There was plenty of cunning in these orcs, and Harry waited patiently for Zaela to make herself vulnerable to him, not wanting any sort of alarm raised if he tried to take her before then.
 
The armor comes off, piece by piece, and the female Warlord reveals her beautiful, gray, muscled body to Harry’s eyes. Not entirely of course, she doesn’t remove the breast wrap or the cloth leggings that laid beneath her plate, but that’s alright. They’ll have plenty of time to play later. Smirking slightly at the thought, Harry continues to watch and wait.
 
But unfortunately, Zaela doesn’t immediately head for her furs like he’d have preferred. Instead, she makes for a small, roughly made table and sits down at it, grabbing a piece of parchment and penning a letter with a quill and ink. Harry couldn’t help but be curious, so he snuck over… but all he saw from looking over Zaela’s shoulder were scribblings in orcish.
 
Letting out a silent sigh, thanks to his magic, Harry begins to weave a spell over the beautiful Warlord. Slowly, Zaela’s eyes begin to blink as the sleep falls over her, as she finds it harder and harder to keep them open. Her quill stops scratching at the paper, and to her credit, the Warlord looks about, clearly suspecting something is amiss.
 
But she finds no one, and Harry simply steps to the side of the table, out of Zaela’s line of sight as she stands and turns around, facing the exit of her tent. The female Warlord takes one step… two steps… and on the third, she topples forward quite unceremoniously, hitting the hard-packed ground with a thump as the sleep magic fully takes hold and knocks her out like a light.
 
Grinning like a loon, Harry picks up the quill that the orcish woman discarded and with a flash of magic, turns it into a portkey. Then, he walks over to Zaela and taps her with his foot at the same time that he activates the portkey, taking them both back to a very specific, very special place in HIS war camp. Landing with the unconscious she-orc inside of his tent, Harry looks up to see three specific females waiting for him. Uda the Beast, Murgha the Tempered, and High Priestess Mar’li all wait for him, the two female orcs and the one female troll all staring down at Zaela with eagerness and lust written across their faces.
 
“Well ladies… let’s begin.”
 
-x-X-x-
 
It’s been a long time since Zaela of the Dragonmaw Clan woke up in… unfortunate circumstances. In her youth, there’d been plenty of male orcs who sought to have their way with her against her will. Some had succeeded and taken her hard and fast, as was the right of the strong in the Dragonmaw. Many had failed, and been punished most severely by her, either via weapon or via her bare hands… as was HER right, so long as she proved herself stronger than they.
 
Over the years, increasing her own strength, beating down the males who looked down upon her, and altogether claiming her place at the top of the pile had become her life’s work. She hated when she was weak, when she was helpless… so she’d endeavored to remove all weakness, so she would never be helpless again.
 
After usurping that fool Mor’ghor and becoming leader of the Dragonmaw, she’d become all but unassailable, and with Garrosh Hellscream and the Horde backing her up, she’d been able to change much of her clan’s despicable culture by sheer force of will and growing reputation as she won battle after battle in the name of the Horde, gaining glory for the Dragonmaw that they’d not been able to lay claim to since the Second War.
 
Needless to say, waking up bent over in a hefty metal stockade, her feet shackled to the ground and a heat at her clit was not where Zaela expected to be. The female Warlord screams as the lit candle that Harry is holding an inch away from her sensitive clit finally brings her back to consciousness. Her gray ass clenches MIGHTILY as she tries to yank her chained feet free and close her legs to get away from the heat, but to no avail.
 
That’s how the Warlord wakes up, and it takes her several moments more to finally adjust enough to understand her situation. She’s been captured, stripped naked, and locked in this humiliating position. And standing before her are three females, two orcs and a troll, none of whom she recognizes at sight. They are leering at her though, and Zaela can tell that these are not loyal subjects of her Warchief. These are traitors to Hellscream, and thus the scum of the earth.
 
Snarling, baring her tusks and teeth for all three to see, Zaela growls at them as she clenches her hands into fists, still trying to break free of the very strong, and quite well-enchanted metal pillory.
 
“Traitors! Treasonous dogs! You’re filth! You’re all filth!”
 
“Now, now… is that any way to talk to your kinswomen?”
 
Only then does the human wizard make himself known. This one, Zaela actually DOES recognize. His face was all over the place these days, he was the one who’d killed the Thunder King. Harry Potter, supposedly the apprentice to Jaina Proudmoore. It paid to be informed on who one’s enemies were, and if ever there was an enemy to the Horde, it was Proudmoore, survivor of Theramore. It would have been preferable if she’d died with her people, if only so that they did not have to deal with the thorn in their side that she represented.
 
Though to be fair, Proudmoore had been surprisingly quiet in recent times, ever since the attack on Theramore. Only for this to come about, the rebellion and the Alliance working together to try and topple the Horde’s rightful Warchief. It was obvious now, at least to Zaela, that they’d been working behind her Warchief’s back for quite some time, the treacherous filth.
 
“They are no kin of mine! Siding with a human of all things to attack your rightful Warchief! You’re scum! All of you are scum!”
 
As she snarls, Harry sighs and gestures to the trio standing free before her.
 
“Uda, Murgha, Mar’li… come help me with this one, would you?”
 
“Yes, Master…”
 
As all three answer in unison, their voices echoing over one another, Zaela’s eyes widen in renewed disgust and fury. Worse enough that they betrayed their Warchief, but now they’ve given up their freedom to this human scum as well? Just as she’s snarling and working herself up into a frenzy to tear them all apart anew with her words, just as she’s struggling all the harder, the three move into position.
 
Uda pulls out a large, leathery phallus, and with the precision only a huntress could manage, she stuffs it into Zaela’s open mouth right as the female Warlord is about to lambast her and the others. Zaela chokes as she finds herself gagged by the makeshift dildo, but it has straps on the end of it, and even as she tries to flail and spit it out, Uda is pulling those straps back around the imprisoned orc’s skull, bringing them together and tying them off to make sure the gag stays in place, no matter what.
 
Zaela’s tongue is pressed down to the bottom of her mouth and her gag reflex is almost constantly acting up as she chokes just ever so slightly on the leathery phallus, before finally, hatefully getting used to breathing through her nose. This adjustment period is only exasperated by Mar’li however, as the Troll Priestess gleefully stuffs two of her three massive fingers right up the gray-skinned orc’s exposed asshole.
 
The Warlord’s scream of outrage and pain is muffled by the dildo-gag and ends up sounding more like a squeal as a result, even as she thrashes her lower-half mightily, all while still choking slightly on the fake cock tickling the back of her throat. But Mar’li’s already inside of her, and the troll has no issues holding Zaela in place as she digs her digits deep into the unexpecting Dragonmaw’s asshole, stretching her niiiice and wide with those long, thick troll fingers of hers.
 
Meanwhile, Murgha, as a shaman, replaces Harry and his candle with her elementals, teasing Zaela’s already stressed form with flame at her clit and nipples and vines whipping across every other inch of her gray, muscular, well-built form. Watching this, enjoying the view as his three pets all take their time in torturing and teaching his newest pet her place, Harry eventually decides that he belongs on his knees.
 
Perhaps a bit odd, given the circumstances, but he has a fair idea of just how to make this particular orc female snap. The pain and pleasure combination that Uda, Murgha, and Mar’li are all forcing on her is all well and good of course, but it won’t fully break the Warlord, not really. However… Kneeling behind her thick muscular legs and gripping her by her gray thighs, Harry leans in and begins to attack Zaela’s pussy with his tongue.
 
But he doesn’t just leave it at a normal eating out. Who would, when they had magic? Why limit oneself to just a normal tongue, when one can simply elongate it and add to the pleasure exponentially? That’s exactly what Harry does, ‘speaking parseltongue’ as he slides his elongated mouth muscle deep into Zaela’s cunt, much to the female Warlord’s vocal displeasure. Admittedly, such vocal displeasure is in face muffled by the dildo gag, but she does try to pull away from him constantly, her toned, muscly body flexing this way and that as she tries to avoid all the sensations that are currently being forced on her.
 
However, whenever she manages to get her cunt an inch from his face, Harry just makes his tongue longer. He has no problem not sticking his nose right up into her crotch, and honestly, he prefers being able to lean back and just rely on his writhing, snake-like tongue as Murgha continues to tease Zaela’s clit with flame and Mar’li keeps pistoning her thick troll fingers in and out of the Warlord’s poor, abused asshole.
 
But its becoming quickly apparent that it’s the tongue buried far too deep in her cunt that’s really causing the orcish female no end of problems. Her legs are trembling now as her muffled cries take on a distinctly pleasured tone through the dildo gag buried in her throat. She’s still clearly against it, and there’s more than enough painful torture to go along with the pleasure and to continue to increase her hatred for all parties involved, but Harry senses weakness, so he goes for broke.
 
A single flick of his elongated tongue across Zaela’s cervix causes the female Warlord to squeal through the dildo-gag and cum like the bitch she is, her orgasm visible to all in the room as the other women step back for a moment, admiring what’s happening. Then, as Zaela comes down from the climax, Uda walks up to her, holding new toys in her hands once more, a wide, feral grin on her face.
 
“Now you know the pleasure the Master can give you… it’s time.”
 
And without hesitation, without further warning, without mercy, Uda the Beast pierces the Dragonmaw Warlord’s nipples roughly, leaving her tits pulled down and her squealing like a pig while weighted golden rings hang from the newly pierced nipples. Harry watches on in some amusement as Uda tugs on them a few times to make sure they’re ‘secure’, before leaning in to look Zaela right in the eye.
 
“We’re just getting started, ‘Warlord’.”
 
-x-X-x-
 
The torture continues after that, well into the night. Harry doesn’t move onto the main event for a couple hours, preferring to force orgasm after orgasm from the beleaguered she-orc even as her resistance slowly breaks down, her attempts at escape replaced by weakness and a slow degradation of her once-mighty defiance. She started out so strong too… but eventually, Harry pulls back his tongue, leaving her on the edge of this final orgasm, not giving it to her as he instead finally brings his cock to bear.
 
Murgha pulls back her fire from Zaela’s clit like she did with the Warlord’s nipples when Uda brought forth the piercings and the weighted rings. Instead, she finds other ways to play with the pilloried orc’s body, even as Harry takes his massive shaft and smacks it down on her engorged clit again and again and again. Zaela snarls through the dildo gag, and Harry just smiles. It’s probably some final boast of defiance about her proud dragon-maw lineage or some such.
 
He doesn’t care. All he cares about is finally enjoying what he’s been waiting for, all this time. Prolonging the torture had effectively meant a postponement of his own pleasure, but it had been worth it, oh yes, it’d been worth it. As Harry FINALLY thrusts his cock into Zaela’s cunt, forever changing the shape of the Dragonmaw’s pussy with a single thrust, her muffled screams pierce the dildo-gag in a way no other noise from her has over the last few nights.
 
As he grabs her ass cheeks and begins to fuck her from behind with every inch of his massive cock, Harry grins like a loon, thoroughly enjoying the way her incredibly tight inner walls are trying and failing to push him out. They clench and squeeze around him, attempting to push him back, looking to force him to get out of her body. They can’t do it though. He has complete control over this situation, and there’s absolutely nothing that the Warlord can do to escape him.
 
Zaela is helpless in a way she never wanted to be, not ever again. And as she’s fucked from behind, the female orc enjoys it in a way she truly does not want to enjoy it. The dildo gag contains her vocal screams somewhat, but it doesn’t hold back the pleasured tones of the noises coming from her throat that she can no longer control.
 
And it certainly doesn’t stop Harry from feeling it as her insides clench and squeeze around his massive member, orgasm after orgasm now wracking her frame one after the other. The muscular female orc body is covered in sweat by this point, and lashes as well. Her gray skin has been tanned by Murgha’s elementals smacking her with vines, whipping her across every inch of her rippling muscles.
 
Head hanging, Zaela tries to hold back the noises, but amusingly enough, the leathery phallus buried in her throat keeps her from doing so. Oh sure, it muffles the screams and what not, but she cannot close her lips or clench her teeth, meaning that she cannot swallow any of the sounds that Harry’s fucking of her gushing wet cunt draws out of her. As his cockhead rams against her cervix, slamming into the entrance of her womb again and again, Zaela breaks, further and further.
 
Then, the others in the room step up again, looking at Harry with devotion in their eyes and the proper tools in their hands.
 
“This wench doesn’t deserve to know pleasure like yours without permission, Master. Shall we continue?”
 
Harry smirks and gives them all a nod. Mar’li proceeds to tattoo a large lightning bolt across the small of Zaela’s back, a tramp stamp that has the gray-skinned orcish female screaming angrily through the gag. But her angry screams don’t last long, because Murgha brings up a smoldering lava-rock a moment later, this with a smaller lightning bolt emblazoned on its surface.
 
She presses the rock into Zaela’s navel, right atop the bitch’s clit, branding her with the lightning bolt, the sizzle of orc flesh filling the air alongside Zaela’s pained squeals as she squirms and struggles anew. But that’s what Uda is there for, and the Beast certainly earns her title as she holds her fellow orc down, forcing Zaela into place to take her ‘punishment’, every last bit of it.
 
Once the tattoo is on her lower back and the branding is on her navel, both Mar’li and Murgha step back and raise a hand each, pointing at their respective marking. They say some words of power, and the tattoo and brand glow with magic for a moment as Harry watches on, still fucking Zaela, still smiling. But he does catch the noticeable drop in the spasming coming from Zaela’s cunt as her orgasms quite abruptly… cease.
 
Her pussy walls are still squeezing and clenching along his length quite tightly of course, but Zaela’s moans and cries of pleasure and ecstasy die off as she lets out muffled, confused whimpers through the dildo-gag in her throat. Quite suddenly, she can no longer cum. Not unless Harry allows it, of course. Chuckling darkly at the abrupt change, Harry reaches out and begins to unlock the pillory. As soon as the large metal contraption is unlatched, his pets move to pull it off of Zaela’s neck and wrists, allowing her to slip out of it, finally.
 
The beleaguered Dragonmaw orc falls to her hands and knees, weakened immensely by the last couple hours of torture, pain and pleasure leaving her at the end of her rope. Of course, Harry doesn’t let his cock slip out of her for even a moment, moving down to the floor of the room with her, crouching over her and still griping her toned gray backside as he pounds into her from above, fucking her nice and hard, his cock still penetrating deep, still ramming against the entrance of her womb, slowly making headway in penetrating that most sacred of places.
 
Zaela meanwhile, is quickly discovering that she’s now unable to cum. She’s constantly being edged, and the orgasms that filled hours of torture with small moments of pleasure here and there are just… gone. Of course, so is most of the torture at this point, but the weakened Warlord is finding that this edging is a new sort of torture all on its own. As she claws at the ground, moaning and whimpering and even pushing her hips back against his pistoning prick, Harry just smiles, knowing exactly how she’s feeling.
 
Ultimately, he leans forward and unties the back of the dildo-gag. He pulls it out of her mouth, inadvertently causing her head to tilt upwards and her back to arch in the process. Once it’s gone, Zaela’s gasping breaths fill the room, even as Harry tosses the well-used, saliva-covered dildo gag off to the side and instead grabs the female Warlord by her ponytail. Dragging it back harshly, pulling on her hair, Harry forces her to look up at him as he looms over her.
 
Zaela’s eyes are glazed at this point, and her mouth is open as she gasps and moans in equal measure. The pleasure has overwhelmed her, and she clearly wants to cum so badly, if the throaty whines that exit her lips and push past her bestial tusks are any indication. Harry just smiles slightly, cocking his head to the side as he eyes her for a moment, still fucking her, never once stopping.
 
Finally, it happens.
 
“… Please…”
 
Spoken in that gravely orcish voice, the pleading word escapes Zaela’s lips. She immediately looks mortified by the fact that she’s broken and begged, but she doesn’t try to retract it. She does attempt to clamp up though, but Harry’s not having any of that. Reaching out with his free hand, the human wizard sticks two enforced fingers past the female Warlord’s lips, gagging her with his digits even as he continues to fuck her from behind. Her tongue unconsciously slathers along his fingers until eventually Harry pulls them out again and snarls down at her.
 
“Please, what, bitch?”
 
A distinctly uncharacteristic whimper escapes Zaela’s throat, and she’s clearly flushed with desire, her gray skin tinged red and her eyes filled with need. But she also is still trying to hold back, after that initial slip up. Harry just keeps fucking her, tugging on her ponytail with every thrust, ramming into her again and again and again as she finds herself at the edge of an abyss that she wants nothing more than to fall into, only to be kept away from it by his hold on her.
 
“Please… let me cum. I need… I need to cum.”
 
Her weak voice fills Harry with an exhilarating sense of victory, grinning ferally as he cocks his head to the side.
 
“Please, what?”
 
Zaela’s eyes, glazed over as they are, immediately light up with recognition and understanding. Once again, she tries to resist, tries to hold back from humiliating herself before him even more. But Harry has all the time in the world, and he keeps fucking her with deep, powerful strokes. Eventually… all women break.
 
“Please… Master.”
 
Smirking, Harry reaches down and flicks her clit with his finger, setting her off as he finally allows her to cum. It had to be his choice, but he doesn’t actually have to SAY anything… the magic is more intuitive than that. Regardless, the tramp stamp and pussy brand flare brightly as Zaela screams loud enough to split the night sky… if they weren’t currently in a silenced tent so that no one could hear those very screams.
 
The female Warlord shakes and spasms, and her inner walls finally milk him the rest of the way towards his own release. Before he cums though, Harry pulls out, covering her in his seed… and it’s no small amount either. The mind-broken orc female ends up absolutely COATED in his ejaculate, a veritable cum bath if he’s ever seen one… which to be fair, he’s not only seen them, but been the creator of more than a few.
 
As soon as he’s done cumming, he nods to the other three females in the room. Uda, Murgha, and Mar’li fall upon Zaela, who at this point is face down on the ground, her ass stuck up in the air and her freshly-fucked cunt still flexing and squeezing as if he’s still inside of her. The two orcs and one troll descend upon the bitch and grab her, eagerly taking up positions to lap and bite at her flesh, sucking Harry’s thick, viscous seed off of her gray skin.
 
It takes a moment, but the Warlord does eventually realize what they’re doing. As she begins to struggle however, Murgha preempts her by restraining her arms behind her back with some vines and Uda grabs onto the large golden nipple rings piercing her titties and pulls. The once proud, once strong female orc is left to squeal and cry out in a completely humiliating and undignified manner, even as she’s used as nothing more than a plate-tray-table combo for the other three to feast off of, their most favorite meal arrayed before them in truly staggering quantities.
 
Eventually though, they do finish licking every last bit of his semen off of Zaela’s broken form. Only then do they pull her up off the ground and spin her around to face him. The Dragonmaw orc’s eyes shine somewhat as she looks up at him, and then down at his massive cock only inches from her face.
 
“Please, Master… please allow me to serve you. Allow me to be your bitch, your pet. I want your cock inside of me. Please…”
 
Harry just chuckles. Only a couple hours had passed for him and his other pets, but for the Warlord Zaela, leader of the Dragonmaw… it’d been days. Fun little bit of magic that, expanding the sensations, expanding her sense of time until she didn’t know when was when. To her, this torture had gone on for far too long. Harry had found it necessary, once he realized what a dominant female she was… but more than the fact that she was naturally dominant, there was her already existing loyalty.
 
Neither Uda nor Murgha had any true loyalty to Garrosh or any other orc when he got to them. Mar’li was barely loyal to the Thunder King, and only following him out of selfish desires. Her Loa, meanwhile, would not come to her aid, making it all too easy to shatter her faith in Shadra. But Warlord Zaela… she was a zealot. She had this feverish loyalty for Garrosh Hellscream that had to be dismantled and destroyed before she could be molded into a more… productive member of society.
 
Luckily, Harry truly had had all the time in the world, because his magic allowed him to stretch a single night into an eternity for the poor unsuspecting orc female, until eventually, Zaela simply couldn’t control herself any longer, until every bit of the proud Warlord that remained was destroyed and all that was left in her place was… this sad creature before him.
 
Harry would take responsibility though, of course. She was his pet now, just as the others were. But she was untested as well, and Harry quite liked playing games. With a flick of his fingers, the human wizard conjures a chastity belt around Zaela’s crotch that covers her holes nicely, blocking them from view and locking with a thick golden padlock that Harry has the key to.
 
Zaela’s eyes go wide as she looks down at it and then back up at him.
 
“You must prove yourself loyal, cunt. On the morrow, the Horde and the Alliance will attack Orgrimmar. We will come for your precious Blockade… and you will help us to destroy Hellscream’s defenses. Then and only then will I give you what you so desperately crave. Is that understood?”
 
Eyes still wide, Zaela slowly nods.
 
“I won’t… I won’t let you down, Master. I swear it.”
 
Snorting derisively at the pathetic shadow of the proud orc he’d chiseled this current version of Zaela down from, Harry waves his hands negligibly and tosses the ink quill from before at the kneeling, naked orc. The Warlord disappears in a flash, appearing back in her tent with plenty of time before dawn to set plans in motion.
 
As she disappears, Uda, Murgha, and Mar’li all fall to their knees, crawling up to him with lustful gazes as they begin to lavish his cock with praise via their tongues and lips. Harry just chuckles as he runs his fingers through their hair, one by one.
 
“But of course… you three HAVE earned your reward, haven’t you?”
 
-x-X-x-
 
Zaela’s heart beats rapidly in her chest as the first sounds of battle reach her ears. Astride the back of her loyal proto-drake Galakras, the Warlord watches as the Alliance and Horde forces run roughshod over the Dranosh’ar Blockade. Before the events of the night previous, she’d run quite a tight ship, and all things considered, they might have been able to hold the naval forces here…
 
Not anymore. Her sabotage upon returning to camp and getting her armor back on was rapid, widespread, and thorough. The Blockade was going to fall, there were no doubts about that… but that didn’t mean Zaela’s work was done. Her Master would expect the best from her, and Zaela NEEDED to give it to him. The human had to be happy with her… so this was what she would do.
 
Leaning in, Zaela runs a hand down the neck of her massive proto-drake. Then, she whispers her orders to him before hopping down. Galakras lifts off the ground without her, heavy wing-beats and winds filling the air as Zaela begins to walk towards the middle of the two towers, even as the fighting takes place on the beach up ahead.
 
Of course, this just means that when her mount carries out her orders, the towers’ defenders aren’t expecting it. Thousands of pounds of Proto-Drake CRASH into the west tower and destroy the upper half in one blow, before Galakras whirls about, perched on the tower’s ruins and unleashes the massive flames of Galakrond at the eastern tower as well.
 
Needless to say, nobody atop it survives, and when Galakras hops over and obliterates that one too, the half-melted weapons break and are torn asunder. Zaela’s breath hitches as she watches her most loyal creature carry out her orders. He looks down at her as she stands there between the destroyed towers questioningly, but she just gives him a nod with a toss of her head.
 
Like that, the last of Galakrond’s progeny lifts off and flies away, departing for the coast and aiming for Azshara and then Winterspring beyond. If her Master allows it, Zaela will look for Galakras and bring her mount back to her in order to better facilitate her service to him… but ONLY if her Master allows it. Regardless, the destruction of the Dranosh’ar Blockade’s defenses has thrown Garrosh’s forces into chaos. Zaela though… Zaela begins to remove her armor. She can see him from here, and he can see her as well, because he’s looking right at her, even now.
 
Slowly, the Alliance and Horde push up, as if shocked that her proto-drake has done this. But interestingly enough, even as Zaela strips herself down to the chastity belt gifted to her by her master, before slowly descending to her knees, no other looks at her. The only one who so much as glances in her direction… is him.
 
Harry James Potter brings up a hand and beckons her to him. As Zaela crawls forward, knowing she is not worthy of walking, Alliance and Horde soldiers sprint past her to secure the Blockade without even acknowledging her existence. The leadership, such individuals as Stormwind’s King and Silvermoon’s Regent-Lord, confer with one another about how to proceed now that they’ve broken through the defenses so fast… but even they pay her no mind.
 
Nor do they look towards her Master as he steps up to meet her crawling form. Zaela is no fool, even if she has been broken and turned into her Master’s pet. She realizes now that they cannot see them, or perhaps more accurately, they are not ALLOWED to see them. Truly, her Master’s power is great. The female Warlord was fully prepared to disgrace and humiliate herself on the battlefield while all watched on from around her… but perhaps her Master had other ideas. Perhaps it would have done damage to his own reputation and alliances if such a thing were seen by those he had allied himself to.
 
Either way, he has no told her to stop, so Zaela turns about and presses her face into the ground, her tusks digging into the dirt as she lifts her ass into the air. A moment later, the chastity belt is gone as if it’d never been there to begin with, and there are hands on her as Harry chuckles darkly.
 
“You’ve done well, slut… so I suppose I’ll give you your reward. This is what you wanted, is it not?”

And without further ado, he slams every last inch of his massive cock DEEP into her asshole. Zaela’s eyes widen and her howls split the air, but no one looks to them, not even as he begins to give her the butt-fucking of a life time. It was the first time that any man had ever been inside of her ass, to be clear. Even those orcs who had raped her earlier on in her life, before she’d become the Dragonmaw’s Warlord and changed how things were done… they’d had no desire for her ass.
 
No, they’d been trying to breed her, trying to impregnate her. If any had ever succeeded, they’d have had claim on her as their mate, and Zaela’s attempts to progress upwards in the clan’s ranks would have been ended. As it was, she’d managed through quick-thinking and a lot of luck to never get pregnant off of one of the few times she’d been beaten and roughly taken. It usually involved a humiliating bath in the river as she scooped cum out of her cunt after they left her face down in the dirt, laughing at her weakness.
 
Amusingly enough, now the Warlord couldn’t be further away from that mentality. She WANTED her Master to fuck her cunt and fill it with his seed, she wanted him to breed her like the worthless fuck toy she was, making her pregnant with his half-orc babies. The very idea filled Zaela with delight and desire, but at the same time, the female orc knew she could not ask for such things yet, not when she was still so… new to his service.
 
Instead, Harry is fucking her ass, and though it hurts quite a bit at first, there comes a time when the pain goes away, and then slowly the strange sensation of being filled in a hole not meant to be penetrated turns to pleasure. Soon, Zaela’s screams are replaced with throaty moans, and as the battle continues on ahead of them, Harry fucks her ass through climax after climax, every once in a while giving her a spanking across her gray-skinned bump that sends her over the edge.
 
He’s in complete control, and Zaela prostrates herself before him as he fucks her back door, plundering her anal passage and reminding her who owns her, who she belongs to. Eventually though, he does cum. He fills her bowels with his seed and then leaves her in the dirt to continue on ahead, the Siege of Orgrimmar beginning in earnest now that she’d betrayed her Warchief.
 
But Zaela can’t really bring herself to feel shame. It was for her Master. It was for Harry. She did the right thing, and she served a higher power now. Slowly, the orc woman’s hand comes around and her fingers dip into her freshly fucked asshole. She scoops out some of her Master’s cum and brings it to her lips, licking the messy digits clean like the beast she now is. Then, eventually she pulls herself to her feet and begins the walk to Harry’s camp, not quite sure HOW she knows exactly where to go, but feeling drawn in that direction, nonetheless.
 
No one pays her any mind, not even the animals that she passes by as she walks across the barren wasteland that is Durotar. She strides right into the Darkspear Rebellion’s camp, still invisible and unnoticed, but rather than use such a thing to her advantage, she merely uses it as her Master intended, moving to Harry’s tent and entering.
 
There, she kneels by his bed and waits for news of his success. Her Master will return, and when he does, she will be waiting to serve him to the best of her ability.

-x-X-x-

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