In the end, Harry and his party must intervene in order to save the day and what have you. As they approach the shores of the Well of Eternity, most of the creatures that would have stopped them step aside. Those that don’t are promptly destroyed. Harry can’t help but feel a bit… well, god-like. But then, when you have the High Priestess of Elune and the last Queen of the Kal’dorei (as well as her handmaidens) on leashes, crawling on all fours in front of you, it’s hard not to let it all go to your head.
 
Of course, they’re all invisible, for the time being. Wouldn’t do to reveal the depth of what Harry had done to just ANYONE. Especially those still fighting on the shores of the Well. There, Harry finds two young Night Elves, battling against Varo’then, the head of Azshara’s Royal Guard, and Mannoroth, a hulking Pit Lord who, from what Harry had read, would play a part in several of Azeroth’s future events. But it was fine that he died here today, because demons didn’t truly die when they were defeated outside of the Twisting Nether. He would return to the abyss, where he would reform and eventually strike again.
 
Regardless, the two young Night Elves are the ones who catch Harry’s attention more than anything else. Illidan Stormrage is a curiosity more than anything, but it’s still interesting, watching the talented mage use his arcane power to fight back Varo’then and Mannoroth, keeping them away from his companion… an equally younger Tyrande Whisperwind. This Tyrande is obviously not High Priestess of Elune, quite yet.
 
Hell, as Harry studies her closely, he finds her to not even be as matured as HIS Tyrande is. That’s rather odd, because from what he knows, this version of the priestess is still more than old enough to be considered an adult. And yet, her breasts aren’t quite as full as her older self’s. Her hips aren’t QUITE as wide. Her face is still soft in some ways, and her hair is shorter, not nearly as lush and voluptuous in nature as it is in Harry’s present.
 
Still, she fights against the end of the world with the same determination that he knows HIS Tyrande would show, given the opportunity. It brings a smile to his face, watching her do battle… but in the end, he’s not going to let this go on any further. Reaching down, Harry grabs a fistful of Azshara’s hair, dragging the mewling Queen up a foot or so even as he leans in to whisper in her ear. Licking her lips, the leashed, panting, moaning beauty nods her agreement.
 
Releasing her, Harry watches as Azshara uses her magic to appear at Varo’then’s side, stopping his latest attack on one of Illidan’s arcane shields, and pulling him away. Only Harry and Varo’then himself see this, even as the illusion of Azshara plays the head of her personal guard beautifully, running her fingers along his jawline, smiling as she speaks to him quietly. It’s too far away for Harry to hear her words, but he knows what she’s saying all the same. She’s saying exactly what he wanted her to say, as is her place as his slave.
 
Briefly, Varo’then looks stunned. He looks to Illidan and Tyrande, as if expecting some sort of trap. But he sees how the two young night elves are struggling, and Azshara’s projection growls, grabbing him by his jaw and demanding that he obey her… something that was perfectly in character for the ethereal beauty of a Queen.
 
Without another moment of hesitation, Varo’then turns on Mannoroth. The Captain slams his enchanted Magistrike Blade into the Pit Lord’s hide, causing the great demon to howl. Varo’then loses his life in the process, of course, one of Mannoroth’s massive paws whipping around and slamming into the Highborne Elf’s body, his armor doing absolutely nothing to protect him as he’s pulped within it without even a moment’s warning.
 
But it’s enough. It’s more than enough, as Harry steps forward with Jaina and Vereesa at his sides, and the three back Illidan and the younger Tyrande up in dealing massive magical damage to the weakened Pit Lord, all of that damage only multiplied by the stored energy within the Magistrike Blade imbedded in Mannoroth’s chest.
 
It’s not long before the demon falls to the sudden betrayal, followed up by an even more abrupt barrage of magic. And like that, it’s over. All the while, Azshara, her handmaidens, and Tyrande the Elder remain invisible under Harry’s aegis, their naked, cum-covered bodies and collared necks hidden away from all but himself and his companions.
 
So, when Illidan and the younger Tyrande approach them, they are more curious than shocked or appalled, more cautiously optimistic than anything else.
 
“I know not who you all are… but thank you. Unfortunately, we have other things to attend to. Tyrande, I am sure there are many injured on the battlefield waiting for you to help them.”
 
And with that, Illidan leaves. From the histories Harry has read, he knows that the Night Elf Male plans to take some water from the Well of Eternity. More than that, he will succeed at doing so. Harry could have tried to stop him… but he won’t. Why would he? Let Azeroth’s future remain… mostly intact. Illidan’s choices were his own. Harry was mostly just here to have a good time, if he was being honest.
 
“A-Ah, right. I need to… I hope we can talk again, once this is all over! Goodbye for now!”
 
And with that, Tyrande the Younger also departs from the shores of the Well of Eternity, for a much better reason than Illidan. She was going to see if anyone could still be saved, if anyone could still be healed and helped. Harry watches her go with a soft smile on his lips. Part of him had considered taking her, right here and right now. Giving her something to look forward to, even if the timeline would likely alter her memory so that everything wasn’t messed up or something.
 
But no. He would leave her be. He had a Queen to play with still, after all. Though, first and foremost, Harry looks to the Well of Eternity. It is… a beautiful sight. Such power too, reaching out to him, calling to him. But Harry is not tempted. He’s plenty powerful enough on his own. With a quirk of his lips, the wizard turns to regard the Night Elf Queen he’s just spent so much time defiling.
 
“A-Ah… we should probably be leaving now.”
 
But of course, before he can say anything, the resident party pooper has to step in. Harry’s eyes flicker over to Alurmi, their bronze dragon escort. The bronze dragon, currently still in her high elven guise, flushes bright red at having his gaze upon her, her eyes in turn drifting down towards his crotch, where she knows he’s packing quite the cock, hidden beneath his robes.
 
She’s disheveled and flustered and looks like she’s already gone a few rounds. Which to be fair, she has. But only with the women. He hasn’t fucked her yet. As she squirms beneath his gaze, he wonders if that was what she wanted to happen right now. If that was why she had spoken up, to draw his attention and thus his attraction.
 
Well, he’s certainly not going to leave her hanging forever, but first, Harry has something else in mind. Turning back to Azshara, he reaches down and slips two fingers under her chin, bringing her face up so he can look down at her. She gazes at him with those glowing golden eyes of hers, filled with worship and devotion, even now.
 
“Then I suppose this is goodbye, my dear Pet Queen. Which means we should make the most of it, shouldn’t we.”
 
And with a deft move, Harry slides the hand under Azshara’s chin up around to her hair, while with his other hand, he drags his cock out from within his robes. A sharp tug on Azshara’s hair has the beautiful Night Elven Queen opening her mouth in a gasp before she even registers the presence of his cock. Her eyes go crossed trying to keep track of it as it shoves right down her throat, and though for a moment she’s surprised and slow to react, her tongue eventually begins to writhe along the underside of his length as Harry fucks her face one last time, right then and there.
 
“Gagkh! Gagkh! Gagkh!”
 
He distantly hears Alurmi piping up to protest behind him, but she’s quickly silenced by Jaina and Vereesa, who grab hold of the bronze dragon and soon have her whimpering in need. They know him best, his first two girls, and they know what he wants of them in this. So, without hesitation, without mercy… they begin the process of TRULY preparing Alurmi for Harry’s cock.
 
Harry watches them go at it for a while, even as he makes use of Azshara’s throat, fucking her face nice and hard. His large cock pushes down into her gullet time and time again, but the mind broken Queen doesn’t complain. Instead, she does her best to lovingly slurp at his bitch breaker of a shaft, working her tongue along the underside of his member as best she’s able. In the end, it’d doesn’t take long for Harry to groan and explode, all over Azshara’s beautiful face and right down her tightening, clenching throat.
 
He chokes her on his jizz and covers her in his cum for the umpteenth time that day, and then, without a care in the world, he grabs her leash and spins her around, bending her forward so she’s on her hands and knees again. With her beautiful, perfectly shaped tits hanging freely below her, Harry moves into position on his knees behind her. His cock, still nice and hard and now covered in her saliva, comes up and rubs against Azshara’s slit eagerly, playing with her sloppy, wet, already fucked and creampied a dozen times over quim.
 
“Do you want it, slut? Do you want my cock inside of you again, one last time?”
 
Pulling on her leash, he forces her head to tilt up and her back to arch, even as Azshara moans and answers in a throaty, raspy tone.
 
“Yesss~ Yes, Master… I want it. I want all of it. Please give it to me. Give me your c-cock~”
 
Grinning wickedly, Harry does as she asks, responding to her needy begging by placing his other hand on her hip to steady her, and then thrusting in, nice and deep. At the same time, he pulls back even harder on her leash, causing Azshara’s first cry of ecstasy to be choked off, instead turning into a gurgle as he asphyxiates her… just a little bit.
 
She tightens up beautifully from the lack of air, so Harry keeps doing it, even as he fucks her messy, sloppy, loosened cunt. His cock slams home into her womb almost immediately, given how broken down her cervix is, and he fucks her with a wild abandon, her insides already perfectly shaped to his cock by this point. He’s completely and utterly broken her and seeded her more times than can be counted by now.
 
This last time is just one for the road, really. An opportunity to, mm, have some fun with the Night Elf Queen, one last time. Because he knew that while Azshara DID survive what was coming next, she would come out of it… changed. And while Harry wasn’t picky enough to reject her just because she became something like a Medusa, from what he’d read, he was still going to enjoy her gorgeous, nigh-perfect Night Elf body for as long as he possibly could.
 
Pounding into Azshara again and again and again, Harry enjoys the broken Queen’s feeble, choked cries. He enjoys the way her cunt tightens and squeezes at his cock as he chokes off her air supply, as he keeps her from breathing by tugging at the leash hard enough to constrict the collar around her windpipe. It’s just a collar and leash though. Both are made of simple, conjured leather. Beyond being made of magic, they have no actual magical properties.
 
Similarly, Harry is not restraining Azshara’s magic, at least not anymore. He’s not even bothering to try to hold back her power, though his own magical might still suffocates her in another way entirely, pressing in all around her, something that only the magically gifted such as Azshara herself would even be able to sense. Regardless, the point is, Azshara COULD break free at any time. She could fight him off and escape him if she wanted to, she could free herself from being strangled, as she currently is.
 
But that would mean losing out on this one final fuck. It would mean losing out on getting Harry’s cock inside of her, one last time before who knows how long. It would mean that her Master would stop fucking her, and there was no way in a million years that Azshara would take an option that led down such a path. So, she takes the choking like the horny, needy bitch in heat she is, and she climaxes around Harry’s cock time and time again as her eyes roll back in her head and her tongue lolls out of her mouth, and her vision goes a little black around the edges from the lack of oxygen.
 
Harry makes sure to never truly choke her out. He makes sure to always let up before she can pass out entirely, before she can fully go unconscious from lack of air. Instead, he keeps her right on the edge the entire time he’s fucking her gushing wet cunt, through all the orgasms, through all the climaxes. He uses her collar and leash to fuck the Night Elf Queen like the bitch she is, on her hands and knees from behind, doggystyle.
 
All good things come to an end though. Eventually, it’s too much for even Harry, this new way of fucking the broken Queen with his bitch-breaker prompting an eventual release from him, as her pussy gets tighter and tighter around his cock, until finally, it milks him of his load, which he spills into her womb in quite the satisfying manner, one last time.
 
He fills her, and Azshara chokes out an ecstatic cry, eyes rolled back in her head and tongue lolling out of her mouth quite obscenely as she shakes and spasms and trembles before him, back arched, tits jiggling and bouncing about, booty doing the same. Harry chuckles as he pulls out of the last Night Elf Queen, and his hand comes down to spank her delectable derriere one last time as well.
 
Then, he stands up and turns his attention to the elephant in the room. Alurmi freezes as he makes eye contact with her again, Vereesa and Jaina both slurping at her now-naked breasts as they finger her equally naked pussy in preparation for his cock. But as her gaze slips down Harry’s body and takes in the sheer size of his member, the bronze dragon swallows, and he knows that, in that moment, she knows it won’t EVER truly be enough.
 
And yet, anticipation still wars with trepidation on Alurmi’s face as Harry steps towards her meaningfully, cock in hand.
 
-x-X-x-
 
She shouldn’t have gone back. After spending a little while healing those that could be healed and passing by those that couldn’t, Tyrande found herself circled back around to the shores of the Well all the same, despite not having any conscious intention to do so. She just… she was attracted to that one male. The night elf who had wielded magics even stronger than Illidan himself, in the short battle that had followed.
 
She wanted… she wanted to know more about him. However, what the younger Tyrande could NEVER have expected was finding him with her Queen. Or, not her Queen? Queen Azshara was… she had betrayed them all, but all her life, Tyrande had been raised to put her on this pedestal, to obey her, to worship her right alongside Elune herself, in a way.
 
As such, it was something of a shock to the young priestess to see the Queen of the Kal’dorei reduced to nothing more than a cock-hungry slut by the powerful Highborne mage that had helped them destroy Mannoroth. And more than that… he wasn’t even fucking her anymore. Oh, he had to have been doing it before Tyrande returned. That much was a fact. The amount of seed caking Queen Azshara’s beautiful body, somehow accentuating her beauty rather than taking away from it, shows that the Night Elf male had certainly had his fun with her, again and again and again.
 
But by the time the young priestess comes back to the Well of Eternity, it’s to find that he’s already moved onto another among them, fucking a strange looking elf, who’s like Tyrande has never seen before. He’s pounding into her again and again, fucking her with a very large, very thick cock from what the young priestess of Elune can make out right now. And she? She’s loving it. Her eyes are filled with lust, her face contorting in pleasure. She moans as the Night Elf male fucks her; she begs him to never stop. She calls him… she calls him Harry Potter.
 
It’s an odd name, certainly. Tyrande furrows her brow as she hears it, wondering where this male came from, to have such a strange name, to be so powerful as to… as to disgrace their Queen. Not that she feels any anger on Azshara’s behalf. T-The bitch deserves everything coming to her. Blushing at that, the young priestess bites her lower lip, taking in the state of affairs.
 
The most powerful mage she’d ever seen is currently pounding into an elven creature she’s never laid her eyes upon before today. Meanwhile, the Queen of the Night Elves is currently on her knees with a collar around her neck, eating out the ass of one of this ‘Harry Potter’s’ companions, from the look of things. Said companion is moaning encouragement to ‘Harry Potter’, telling him to fuck the ‘dragon bitch’ all the harder.
 
Tyrande’s eyes widen at that, and she looks on the strange elf with a new light to her gaze. A dragon? This is a dragon? That… that would explain quite a bit. And at the same time, it raised even more questions. What dragon would ever willingly submit to a two-legged man, no matter how powerful he was? Just who was this Harry Potter?
 
“He’s your future.”
 
Before Tyrande can react beyond stiffening, a pair of arms have slid up around her, and a pair of hands have fallen upon her breasts. The young priestess freezes altogether when teeth bite down firmly but not all that harshly on one of her long, purple ears in JUST the right way. Her eyes close, and she shudders in the embrace of Night Elf woman that’s snuck up on her.
 
The words that she’d spoken seem to only be for Tyrande though, as are the ones that follow. No one else seems to notice them or pay them any mind, at least for the moment, or if they do see them, they’re ignoring them in favor of the debauchery that they’re already taking part in. Tyrande… Tyrande has never BEEN so damn wet in her life. She’s practically dripping down there. Is it the Night Elf male’s power, eclipsing even that of Illidan, that’s arousing her so?
 
Or is it watching her treacherous Queen, who tried to end the world for her own vanity, finally get what’s coming to her? Either way, the Night Elf that’s snuck up on her is quick to slip her hands beneath Tyrande’s robes, moving her digits so fluidly over the young priestess’ body that Tyrande can’t help but wonder if they’ve met before… if… if they’ve shared a bed before. But s-surely not. Surely, she would remember? And yet, this other female’s hands move as if she knows all of Tyrande’s weak spots, as if she has a map that tells her every single point on the young elf’s body that can be teased and played with in all the right ways.
 
“You have a long, hard road ahead of you, Tyrande Whisperwind. But he’s what’s waiting at the end of it. You won’t remember this, more than likely. Time… time is elastic enough that your mind will be fixed when we leave. So, there’s no harm in telling you everything, is there? No harm in explaining to you just how low you’ll fall for this… this human.”
 
Tyrande blinks at the other female’s words, especially that last one. Hearing the word ‘human’ causes the Night Elf mage, still fucking the dragon with all his might, to almost… flicker, in a way. He flickers, and for a moment she sees a pink-skinned hairless ape, rather than a Night Elf man. It’s gone after that moment passes though, but of all the things Tyrande notices… it’s the fact that his cock, while it changes color, does NOT change size between one version of him and the next.
 
“He will take you, and he will break you. You will rail against him, at first. You will fail. That’s alright. Failing is fun. Failing… is pleasurable. You’re going to enjoy it, losing to this man. You’re going to enjoy losing yourself, bit by bit, as he goes about doing things you would have thought impossible, in a world where you’ll see the impossible happen on a daily basis for the next ten thousand years.”
 
The young priestess of Elune’s breath hitches at that, and not just because the other female’s hands are getting further and further down. For a moment, the Night Elf that has her held in her arms pauses, before letting out a chuckle.
 
“Yes, sorry… it truly will be that long. But perhaps… perhaps before that time comes, we can have some fun, yes?”
 
Fingers slip up against her folds. And then they slide into her drooling quim as the young priestess moans wantonly, nearly doubling over, if not for the other hand, which is currently on her breast, pulling her back into the ample, voluptuous chest of her unseen lover. Because yes, if there’s one thing Tyrande has decided, it’s that this constitutes a level of intimacy where she can call the other Night Elf female… her lover.
 
It’s not like it’s the first time. Tyrande has never been with a male. Not because of some silly edict from Elune or anything like that, but simply because she hadn’t found the right man to love quite yet. So no, she hasn’t been with a male. But she has been with many females. Other priestesses of Elune, mostly, but there’d been a few Sentinels as well, along the way.
 
It was lonely, training to become a priestess. It was hard work, and one could gain a lot from having a reliable source of stress relief waiting for them. So yes, Tyrande had laid with many, many women before. And so, it was not an odd thing, for her to be fingered by the one who had her held in her grasp. It was rather odd for it to be happening in front of everyone else, of course. Odd to have it happen in front of this ‘Harry Potter’, who’d thoroughly disgraced and defiled Queen Azshara, who even now was taking his pleasure and breaking down a whimpering, mewling DRAGON of all things.
 
Tyrande moans and writhes in the hands of her lover, even as she watches this ‘Harry’ finish off his dragon, fucking her into a stupor and then filling her with a thick load of his cum. Even as she watches this happen, the Night Elf behind her trails kisses down her neck, long, sucking things that leave hickeys in her wake.
 
And then, when ‘Harry’ pulls out, the Night Elf female acts, and Tyrande can only eep as she’s suddenly lifted up into the air, strong hands up under her thighs, holding her spread-eagle as the one holding her begins to walk towards Harry Potter.
 
“It’s time, my dear. Time for you to meet the human who changes everything for you… and for Azeroth.”
 
Once again, the word human flits across Tyrande’s mind. Once again, the Night Elf male in front of her flickers and she sees under what is obviously a disguise. And then, as he turns towards her, it goes away entirely, and Tyrande witnesses Harry Potter in all of his… human glory. He’s a bit shorter, than most Night Elves. But he’s every bit as large, thick, and long as she’d thought he was when she first saw him fucking the dragon that even now is laid out on the ground looking like a fucked silly slut rather than the immortal being of immense power she was supposed to be.
 
Was it any wonder then, that Tyrande found herself looking upon this moment with anticipation and immense arousal? Was it any wonder, that the young priestess was fully ready to finally let a male have her way with her, even if he WAS a total stranger? Harry turns to look at her and the Night Elf holding her… and then he laughs. He tosses his head back and roars with laughter.
 
For a moment, Tyrande feels self-conscious. She wonders if perhaps he finds her unworthy, if he sees her as a joke. She is not as beautiful as Queen Azshara, that is true… but she still feels she is gorgeous enough. Her female lovers among the priestesses of Elune and the Sentinels certainly seemed to agree. Even if her body wasn’t QUITE as voluptuous and curvaceous as the other women around him… she still had more curves than the disguised dragon he’d just pounded into oblivion!
 
As if seeing her self-conscious reaction in her eyes, Harry steps forward once he’s done laughing and gives her a wide, wicked smile, reaching up and taking her chin between his fingers.
 
“Not to worry, sweetheart. I wasn’t laughing at you. I was laughing at her.”
 
He nods his head to the Night Elf holding Tyrande up, and for a moment, she doesn’t understand. Grinning, Harry continues on with a shrug.
 
“After all, she was so high and mighty when we first met. Now here she is, offering herself up to me on a silver platter? It’s rather… adorable.”
 
Her confusion only grows further, until Harry slides his hand past Tyrande’s head and snaps his fingers. Looking back, following his arm all the way back, she eventually, finally makes eye contact with the Night Elf that had been molesting her all this time. She was likely disguised beforehand, just as he was… but now? Now she is not. And despite the expanse of time between the two of them, Tyrande recognizes an older version of herself, easily enough.
 
Just as she recognizes the dried cum that plasters her elder self’s face. Said elder self is currently blushing quite deeply, even as she ducks her head shyly.
 
“Do you want to fuck her or not… Master?”
 
Tyrande’s breath hitches as the older version of her calls Harry Master. Surely… surely, they served Elune in all things? Sex and fucking was one thing, but could they truly have sunk so low as to call this human their Master? Just as the young priestess of Elune is thinking this, just as she’s trying to get over her shock, that shock is joined by pain and heat and pleasure as Harry grabs hold of her thighs and presses his massive, messy meat pillar right into her untouched quim.
 
As Tyrande the Younger cries out upon losing her virginity to this human, to her future Master, Tyrande the Elder holds her steady, watching all the while, remembering, finally, how it happened all this time ago. Up until this moment, Tyrande Whisperwind had had a mental block on this instant in time. In her original memories, she and Illidan had gone their separate ways after defeating Mannoroth, leaving the adventurers who’d helped them fight back the Pit Lord on the shores of the Well of Eternity with barely a word of thanks.
 
Tyrande hadn’t remembered, for ten thousand years, going BACK to that same shore not even an hour later, drawn back by the strangers’ power. She hadn’t recalled, for ten thousand years, unknowingly meeting her older self while watching as her defiled Queen ate out another woman’s ass, and Harry Potter fucked a bronze dragon into oblivion.
 
Now, the Tyrande of the future or present or whatever you wanted to call it… remembered. She remembered this moment, when she offered her younger self up to Harry for a good, hard fucking. She remembered telling herself how she would try to fight back, only to fail, fail, and fail again. This was that moment. This was the moment in which Tyrande Whisperwind lost her virginity to a male, and not even one of her own race, but instead a human that would conquer her ten thousand years later.
 
Though, was it accurate anymore to say Harry had conquered her in the future or present, when it was clear he’d done it first here and now, ten thousand years in the past? Her knees are weak, and her cunt is clenching and squeezing as she finally remembers every last moment of this encounter, as she finally recalls how she squealed and screamed in ecstasy while Harry fucked her tight, young cunt, right then and there.
 
She remembers, even as she watches it happen in real time. Even as Tyrande the Younger experiences it for the first time in her life, having no idea that she’ll soon lose this memory for ten THOUSAND years. Harry, meanwhile, is having the time of his life. He doesn’t fully know what’s going through the older Tyrande’s mind, but he’s pretty sure he’s got a bead on what the younger Tyrande is thinking. After all, she’s being very vocal about it.
 
“Yes! Yes! Yes! Fuck me, f-fuck meeeeee!!! Stick your big thick human dick up into me! Pound me silly! Oh, by ELUNE, NEVER STOP!”
 
A brief beat of white light surrounds them both, and Harry blinks as he feels… rejuvenated? That was new, and when the light clears, he looks to Tyrande the Elder to find her own eyes wide in surprise as well. Tyrande the Younger on the other hand, has her eyes crossed and her tongue sticking straight out of her mouth in ecstasy as she happily clings to him with all four limbs, taking his cock into her cunt again and again.
 
She doesn’t seem to realize that she her little prayer to Elune had actually been answered. Whether that was simply her magic going out of control, or actually a bit of rejuvenation sent by the Moon Goddess herself, however, Harry didn’t know. He would ask the older Tyrande later though, because he was undeniably curious about… well, all of it.
 
For now, though, he had a young Night Elf priestess to show the joys of womanhood to, from the looks of things. Never in a million years would Harry have thought that Tyrande Whisperwind of all people would still be a virgin at the shores of the Well of Eternity. Weren’t BOTH Illidan and Malfurion courting her, by this point? Kal’dorei society didn’t seem to have many taboos about sex, from Harry’s reading. So why hadn’t Tyrande had a roll in the hay by this point?
 
Bah! It didn’t matter, now did it! He had a tight, young priestess wrapped around his cock, and a cervix to break through! He was making good progress on it too, slamming up against the entrance of Tyrande the Younger’s womb with enough force to make Tyrande the Elder jolt with every single thrust. One look at the older version of the Night Elf priestess shows her biting her lower lip and staring at him needily. She wishes it were her instead… which is no end of hilarious, given that it technically IS her. He’s fucking her right now… instead of fucking her?
 
Time travel is fucking hilarious. Harry though, is having the time of his life regardless. He’s had his way with the last Queen of the Night Elves. He’s fucked her silly more times than he can count. On top of that, he’s fucked Alurmi into a stupor as well, one that the bronze dragon will likely never recover from, if Soridormi just GAVE her over to him was any indication. Obviously, the Prime Consort expected him to fuck Alurmi, obviously she knew what would happen when he did.
 
It’s likely that she will be addicted to him and his cock, when she comes back to her senses. And that’s perfectly fine with Harry. It’ll be nice to have a bronze dragon bitch in his pocket. Or maybe several, heh. Regardless, right now is all about Tyrande. Both younger and elder. Reaching out, Harry fists a hand through the High Priestess’ hair and drags the older Tyrande down into a deep, passionate, tongue-filled kiss to the side of the younger’s head.
 
All the while, he continues to rail the young priestess currently impaled on his cock, until finally, FINALLY her cervix gives out, and the rest of his stymied member slams up into her womb directly. A silent scream emits from Tyrande’s throat, her eyes wide and her jaw dropped open from the sudden sensations. Both pleasure and pain war within the formerly virgin night elf priestess, but in the end, pleasure winds out… when it comes to Harry, it ALWAYS will.
 
Shaking and spasming and seizing up, the younger Tyrande squeals like a stuck pig, orgasming explosively again and again around Harry’s cock. There’s no more words, no more begging… just primal grunts and groans and mewls and moans, as Harry fills her with his bitch-breaker of a cock over and over and over. At the same time, his tongue intertwines with the older Tyrande’s. He dominates her mouth at the same time that he’s dominating her young virgin cunt, ten thousand years in the past.
 
Now she knows. Now she knows that this was ALWAYS to be her fate… and seeing that knowledge in Tyrande the Elder’s eyes is so much of a turn-on that Harry can’t stop himself from pumping a thick, thick load of cum up into her younger self’s womb. As said younger self’s eyes finally roll back in her head, the High Priestess Tyrande Whisperwind that’s traveled back into the past with her master, Harry James Potter, bites her lower lip.
 
This is why she was never truly satisfied with Malfurion for the next ten thousand years. She’d thought in her darker moments that she’d chosen the wrong brother, that Illidan would have been able to make her truly happy in a way that Malfurion couldn’t. But that wasn’t the case, oh no. Neither of the Night Elf males could have satisfied her, not after experiencing Harry’s big, fat cock for the first time.
 
As the human wizard pulls out of her younger self’s cream-filled quim, he points at the ground. Tyrande hurries to obey him, and soon finds herself kneeling right alongside the young priestess she’s offered up to him on a silver platter. When his meaty, messy cock slaps down on the younger Tyrande’s face, her glazed eyes fixate on it and she moans throatily. But it’s up to Tyrande the Elder to grab her younger self by the hair and guide her mouth over and down Harry’s cock.
 
She’s not gentle about it, either.
 
“Gagkh! Gagkh! Gagkh!”
 
As she chokes herself on Harry’s cock, as she forces the younger version of herself to take far more of his massive meaty member than she’s really prepared for, Harry smiles down at her, and Tyrande feels exultant, as if she’s finally where she belongs, finally how she’s supposed to be. There’s no more secrets now, no more hidden memories.
 
Now she knows her true origins as Harry’s cock-sleeve had nothing to do with Ysera, not truly. Her mentor didn’t betray her, she simply opened Tyrande’s mind to the possibilities. And in her dreams, even Tyrande’s subconscious knew she was supposed to submit to the Stag that chased her down night after night, pinning and rutting with her.… it knew she was supposed to submit to Harry.
 
Her younger self will have to learn. So Tyrande teaches her. She chokes the young priestess of Elune on Harry’s cock, first. Then, she spins the dazed girl around and pushes her face into the dirt, presenting her ass to Harry next. He blinks in surprise, but then shrugs and sticks his lubed-up prick right up Tyrande’s virgin back door. The younger Tyrande squeals all the louder at the anal intrusion of course, but it’s not long before she’s moaning wantonly, like the little whore that she is.
 
Harry cums, and Tyrande the Elder wastes no time in spinning Tyrande the Younger back around to start cleaning up his cock. He cums again, and this time the two versions of Tyrande share his load across their faces and breasts, licking each other clean. Everything after that is lost in a haze. Everything after that is Harry defiling every last hole that Tyrande has to offer, all six of them in fact, right there on the shores of the Well of Eternity.
 
Everything after that… is Harry wiping the last vestiges of purity and innocence from her younger body, even if it will take Tyrande ten thousand years to remember it.
 
-x-X-x-
 
“I-I will miss you, Master…”
 
Harry smiles down at the Queen of the Kal’dorei, as she clutches at his robes, kneeling before him and looking up at him with a pitiful expression on her face. Chuckling, Harry runs his fingers under her chin.
 
“I’m sure you will, pet.”
 
For a moment, Azshara bites her lip, as if she wants to say no more but doesn’t know what. Then, her eyes widen slightly, and she hurries to pull a ring off of her finger, one with a beautiful amethyst stone.
 
“Please… take this with you! Ten thousand years is a long, long time to wait, my Master. I do not know what state I will be in, when you finally come for me. I can only hope I will remain faithful, but if I have become twisted, if you must remind me of my place… present me with this ring, as a token of the time that you utterly, thoroughly broke me to your will.”
 
An eyebrow raised at Azshara’s heartfelt plea, Harry takes the ring and slips it on, admiring it for a moment before gazing down at his mind-broken slut.
 
“And if that doesn’t work?”
 
Azshara’s cum-caked face twists into a wicked, evil grin, made all the more amusing by the fact that her malice is directed at some future version of herself.
 
“Then I expect you will utterly destroy my ability to fight, and then break me down and remind me of my place at your feet, all over again.”

Harry grins back at her, and nods approvingly. Then, he turns and leaves her, walking away just like that. He’s fully aware that Azshara’s eyes stay on him… right up until the moment that the younger Tyrande crashes into her, pinning her to the ground. Not to attack her, no… but instead to lick up and eat out the last vestiges of his delectable cum that either of them will get for a very, VERY long time.
 
His party and him leave the past with the sounds of slurping and mewling and moaning filling their ears, only to find themselves back in the Caverns of Time, greeted with moans and squeals of pain that are just out of sight. With an eyebrow raised and a ring now on his finger, Harry glances over at Alurmi to see if she knows what’s going on. But she just blushes and ducks her head, smiling softly as she no doubt remembers just how well he FUCKED her.
 
Well, if she doesn’t know, Harry will just have to find out himself. Judging by the sounds, they’re coming from a female of some sort, both the moans and the squealing… and that sounds like a whole lot of fun. Grin on his face, Harry moves forward without a single ounce of hesitation in his step. Those who have traveled with him up until this point follow behind, just as eager. Even Tyrande, who is finally, FINALLY whole.
 
-x-X-x-
 
“T-Tyrande?! What happened to you? Come, we have to get out of here!”
 
From around a nearby corner, Azshara, Queen of the Kal’dorei, watches as Illidan Stormrage and Tyrande Whisperwind disappear in a flash of arcane energy, teleporting out of the city, just as the first rumbling noise shakes the streets and cracks begin to form. It is… beginning. Azshara’s breath hitches as she looks down at her empty hand, at the proof that all that had just happened to her was NOT some sort of hallucination or fever dream brought on by the Legion.
 
Harry was real. He was real, and he’d offered her… he’d offered her purpose. It would no doubt seem rather silly, to anyone who didn’t know him. A Queen, finding purpose in being the cum dump cock sleeve to a simple wizard? But Azshara knew better now. She knew where she belonged, and who she belonged to. Just… just as she also knew that this was the end for her, in one way. But it was a beginning in the other.
 
Slowly pushing herself to her feet, the Queen of the Kal’dorei is swiftly joined by her handmaidens, who all blush and look away, clearly ashamed and embarrassed in their own sordid behavior, the way they all fell without complaint or protest to the human man who so effortlessly broke them… and her. Perhaps they expect her to punish them, now that he is gone. Perhaps they think her final act as Queen will be to kill them, even as the Empire SHE has built crumbles around them.
 
That is not what Azshara does. She takes them by their hands instead and walks with them as the massive wall of water forms over the city. In another life, in another timeline, Queen Azshara of the Kal’dorei would have fought to her last breath. She would have railed against her defeat, against the treachery of the Legion, and even against the overwhelming waves that were about to swallow Zin-Azshari whole.
 
Azshara does nothing of the sort. She lets the water hit her. She lets it hit her city. She lets the ocean CONSUME her and her people. It is… necessary. Even as the pain hits her, even as she whiteouts for a time, Azshara knows that it is… necessary.
 
But when her eyes open again and she is deep beneath the waves, surrounded on all sides by so MUCH water… even Queen Azshara feels a modicum of fear. All she needs to do to calm herself down though, is reach up and touch the leather collar around her thin neck, the accessory looking so very out of place with the rest of her finery.
 
You ARE an interesting one, aren’t you?
 
The voice pounds against her head, and Azshara resists the urge to flinch, even as she peers around herself in the deep dark, the water still closing in on all sides, holding her suspended, the last involuntary gasp of air still held within her lungs… for now.
 
For a thousand years, bound beneath these waves, I have watched you. I have tasted your essence.
 
And then quite suddenly, the voice is before her… nothing more than a fish, but dark energy coalesces around it as its eyes glow red… this is no mere fish.
 
It won’t be long now. Your death is near. Only I can sustain you.
 
For a brief moment, the urge to laugh in this creature’s face is… strong. She doesn’t of course, if only to keep the air inside of her for a moment longer. Because he’s wrong, of course. Only one can sustain her… and it’s not him, not truly.
 
Let go. Serve me.
 
Finally, Azshara deigns to respond. Her old self creeps into her words, but even still, she means them, every bit of them.
 
You? You are nothing.
 
And it’s true. Compared to Harry, he really is nothing. But of course, this slumberer beneath the waves of her world doesn’t take kindly to that.
 
Nothing? I AM A GOD!
 
The world explodes as a million orange eyes open in the dark empty expanse of ocean, right before Azshara’s floating figure. And then she’s not in the sea anymore but staring down at an empire that stretches across the world before her… at the end of which is something Azshara knows immediately is an Old God.
 
BEFORE YOU WALKED THIS LAND, I RULED. SERVE ME, AND WE WILL REBUILD MY EMPIRE!
 
It was an impressive sight to behold, to be sure. Perhaps before Harry, it would have even swayed her. But Azshara didn’t think so. Even without Harry’s influence, even without being introduced to her one, true Master… she doesn’t think she would say yes. Which makes it all the easier to say no.
 
No.
 
NO?! YOU DARE?! YOU WILL DIE-!
 
A Queen!
 
A slave, she truly thinks. But even still, her exclamation rocks the Old God back on his haunches, causing his tendrils to rear away from her. So, she continues.
 
Not a slave. You’ve watched me for a thousand years. So, you know, what I want. Take my people. With them, I will raise an army, conquer your enemies, and build an empire… as Queen. Or, let me die, and you will remain here, a prisoner. The god… of nothing.
 
For a moment, all she hears is the Old God’s roar. And then he and the vision of his magnificent empire are gone, and Azshara is back in the dark depths of the ocean, seemingly alone. She keeps up the façade, of course. Seemingly alone… is not truly alone. Her confident smile remains on her face, and she holds her head high, acting the part of the Mighty Queen that she’s played for thousands of years before now, and will likely play for thousands of years more.
 
Though as time stretches on, and air finally begins to escape her lungs, bubbles slipping out of her nostrils… Azshara does feel a brief moment of fear. Surely this was what she was meant to do? Surely the Old God would have no choice but to take her bargain. She was meant to live. She was meant to make it back to her master, back to her true god, back to… H-Harry.
 
Just as the lack of air is beginning to get to her, a sudden pain strikes in her chest and Azshara’s eyes widen as she feels something altering within her, something new and strange and unexplainable. It hits her mind next, and her eyes go wide as her mouth opens, causing her to scream underwater. Yet, as the transformation takes her, as she changes there in the dark depths, under the watchful eye of her new patron, she finds that air is no longer a concern… not for one such as her, that can breathe water just as easily.
 
It is painful, and horrible, and everything that the beautiful Queen had spent all of her life ignoring and avoiding. But when it is done, she is reborn. When it is done, Azshara, the last Queen of the Kal’dorei, is Azshara… Queen of the Naga. And as she looks around, watching her people’s bodies twisting and transforming as well in the light provided by the Old God’s massive orange eye, Azshara laughs.
 
She laughs, and laughs, and laughs.

-x-X-x-

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