It was time. There was no more delaying, not that anyone wanted to. The Iron Horde had not just been pushed back from the Dark Portal, out of Tanaan Jungle, they’d been forced all the way back to Nagrand, to the Warsong Capital. There, the forces of the Alliance and the Horde were gathered, with Harry arriving as well alongside Khadgar as part of the Kirin Tor contingent.
 
There were no more words to be said. Their battle plans were drawn up, their goals affirmed, their desire to see an end to this whole thing made manifest. As the fighting began, Harry hung back, watching and making sure everything was going according to plan. Namely, his plans. His escapades with the female warlords had indeed paid off from the look of things, as he watched from afar. The Thunderlords and Burning Blades turn upon their former allies as the Alliance and Horde forces clash against the front gates, leading to an even faster fall of the fortress.
 
While everyone else is moving in, while Thrall is off aiming to confront Garrosh in some final duel called a Mak’gora or something, Harry has something else to attend to. Namely, something Yrel had told him she’d set up. And so, while everyone else is surging forward and the Warsong Clan is falling just like the rest of their precious Iron Horde, Harry walks backwards, eventually entering a small tent that Yrel had had him enchant ahead of time with enlargement spells and the like.
 
Truth be told, Harry only had some indications of what to expect from this meeting. He’s only a little surprised when he enters the tent and finds what he finds, honestly. Yrel is there, of course… and so is everyone else. Well, not everyone, but the vast majority of the orcish women that Harry has… converted to his way of thinking are in the tent, waiting for him.
 
There’s Azuka Bladefury, the Warlord of the Bladefury Clan, who he broke upon his cock and showed her a new ‘sword’ to worship. There’s Ger’hel of the Thunderlord Clan, formerly the mate of the Thunderlord Warlord, now Warlord in her own right… but also beholden to Harry and addicted to his big fat human cock.
 
After those two, there’s Lokra and Draka, the two Frostwolf Sisters each brought into the fold at different times, brought low by his dick, just as addicted as all the other orcs. Kaz the Shrieker is with them as well, not a former enemy, but an ally brought in even closer after she spend a half dozen rounds bouncing up and down on his shaft.
 
And then there are the non-orcs, or in Garona Halforcen’s case, the half-orcs. Garona, Cordana, and the woman who’d set this all up, Yrel herself. Cordana and Garona were looking… well, in spite of their bimbofied bodies at his corruptive hands. Harry still winced when he thought about that. He was incredibly lucky that had flown under the radar, because the two beauties could have easily been discovered if he was any less lucky.
 
Instead, he was pretty sure that the Archmage still didn’t know what had happened that day, or how Harry had bound both Cordana and Garona to him. That was for the best, to be sure.
 
Regardless, Harry strides in, hides his slight surprise at the sheer number of women that Yrel has wrangled from his time on Draenor, and plasters a faint smile on his lips as he rests his hands on his hips, arching an eyebrow.
 
“What’s all this then?”
 
The others all look to Yrel, who sweeps her gaze over all of them, standing tall and proud. The Draenei has certainly come a long way since he first met her, practically coming into her own over the course of this campaign and developing into someone that Harry is proud to have at his side. Yrel’s self-confidence seems to be a bit dangerously built on her devotion to him, but Harry figures that can be handled later. For now, it’s fine… probably.
 
“Bare yourselves.”
 
Much to Harry’s appreciative gaze, the other females in the tent all obey Yrel immediately. From the female Warlords he conquered, to the Frostwolf sisters, all the way to a bimbofied Cordana, they all reach up and pull at their respective garments, be it armor or leather or cloth, they remove them and reveal their large breasts.
 
Harry feasts his gaze upon their half-exposed bodies, admiring them with a smile and a nod, even as Yrel speaks again.
 
“Kneel. Present.”
 
Dropping to their knees, they ‘present themselves’ to Harry, lifting up their tits in offering to him in a way that has his cock straining against the inside of his britches. Seeing no reason to be in pain or discomfort, Harry shrugs and reaches down, freeing his cock from its confines. Sure, he’s doing so in front of a crowd… but it’s a crowd of beautiful babes, a crowd made up of the majority of his numerous conquests while he’s been on Draenor. Really, he has nothing to be ashamed of here, nothing to hold himself back.
 
Yrel seems to agree, because she sashays her way over to him, moving into position behind him, the difference in their heights leaving her tits wrapped around the back of his head as she hugs him from behind. Her hands wander across his body, down to stroke his cock and then back up again as she rubs her cheek against the top of his head.
 
“They are yours, Master. Partake of whoever you like for however long you like. They belong to you, all of them… and they know it.”
 
Fuck, Yrel knew just what to say, didn’t she? Grinning, Harry moves forward, stepping out of her embrace. He’s a little surprised when she doesn’t follow him, but if that’s how she wants to play it, then fine. For the time being, he lets her do her own thing and focuses on the gorgeous bounty of beauties in front of him.
 
“Gather around, you lot. There’s plenty of Harry to go around, heh.”
 
They shuffle in closer, until he’s surrounded by a half-circle of females. The orcs are all muscular, while Cordana and Garona are both… voluptuous and soft thanks to his corruptive influences. But ultimately, Harry has manhandled each and every one of these women. Without missing a beat, he grabs hold of Ger’hel and Azuka’s high top ponytails, gripping at them tightly as he yanks the two Warlords in and forces them to smooch and rub their faces against his cocks.
 
“Look at the two of you. Your clans follow you, thinking you so strong… but in reality, this is what you really want, isn’t it? You want your Master’s big fat cock.”
 
The orcish women let out guttural groans and moans as their eyes flutter at his manhandling, their tongues lolling out to begin slurping and sucking at his cock. Harry grins and just enjoys it for what it is, even as his gaze wanders up to the rest of the waiting women. After a beat, he calls out to Lokra and Draka, who are staring at his cock and the two orcs fellating him with undisguised lust and envy in their eyes.
 
“Lokra. Draka. I’ve decided I’m going to fuck you both in the ass… and I won’t be holding back this time. So please… prepare each other for me.”
 
The two are sisters, and even if they’re orcs, they still have incest taboos from what Harry has seen. That translates to the barest of beats of hesitation as Lokra and Draka look at one another for a long moment… then, Lokra lunges forward, slamming her lips into her elder sisters and forcing Draka onto her back. The older orc responds in turn, kissing her younger sister back quite hungrily, before ultimately spinning them both over so she can take the top.
 
Harry just smiles, watching the two of them begin to play with one another’s bodies. They’ll prepare themselves for him in due time, he’s quite confident of that. Sliding his gaze over to the other three unattended females, Harry nods to them as well.
 
“Cordana, Garona… prepare Kaz.”
 
They don’t so much as hesitate, and Kaz the Shrieker, leader of the Laughing Skull Clan, welcomes them with open arms. Of course, bimbofied and soft as the two non-orc women are, Kaz is soon in control, taking them both their hair and guiding them both down to her cunt to begin eating her out for Harry’s eventual approach.
 
With a pleased nod, Harry focuses back on what’s happening right in front of him. By this point, Azuka and Ger’hel are practically making out around his cock, their tongues lashing at one another as they kiss with his dick tip between their mouths. The gorgeous orcish slaves worship their human master with all their heart, and Harry knows that if their warriors could see them now, these two would not be warlords for long.
 
Though to be fair, he didn’t know how much longer they would be considered warlords anyways. The Iron Horde was suffering it’s greatest and hopefully final defeat today, an ignoble end with the Warsong Clan’s fall. Once Thrall killed Garrosh, and Harry fully expected that that was what would happen, and once Grommash Hellscream was located, they would be done with this whole affair.
 
There would be no more room for Warlords on Draenor after that. Azuka and Ger’hel might just become the Chieftains of their respective clans… or perhaps they would come back with him, to Azeroth. After all, Harry didn’t intend to stay on Draenor for the rest of his days. There were plenty of people he’d left behind on Azeroth that he missed very much by this point. Jaina, for instance.
 
He would need to figure out who was staying and who was going. Would all of his conquests want to join him on Azeroth? Would he let them all come? Bah, he could make those decisions later! For now, he should focus on what was happening right before his eyes.
 
Azuka and Ger’hel were beginning to fight over his cock at this point, each of them wanting to be the one to deep-throat his dick properly, apparently. Rolling his eyes, Harry looks between them very briefly… and comes to a decision, not really based off of anything, but merely picking one. With his grip on their ponytails secure, he directs Ger’hel down to his sizable, churning balls, while Azuka is the one who is ultimately allowed to choke on his magnificent, majestic bitch breaker of a cock.
 
A great ‘honor’ to be sure, as the orcish woman goes cross-eyed just staring down the barrel of his meat cannon, her jaw stretching ridiculously far and her cheeks puffing out in concentration as she takes him down the back of her throat.
 
“Gagkh! Glughk! Hulghk!”
 
Meanwhile, if Ger’hel is upset by being regulated to Harry’s balls, she doesn’t show it. The Thunderlord Chieftainess quickly gets to work on slurping and sucking at his nut sack, gurgling on them loyally and devotedly as Harry smiles down at her, able to just see her eyes from under his hefty pair of gonads.
 
“Such a good bitch. Such a loyal cunt.”
 
His degrading, debasing language seems to be having quite the effect on Ger’hel and Azuka alike, as both of them have their hands down between their legs and are very obviously touching themselves quite aggressively amidst all of the intense pleasure. Moaning, mewling, gagging and gurgling, they worship his cock with their mouths while being choked and smothered by his genitals.
 
Letting his eyes drift shut, Harry tilts his head back and groans for a moment… only to tense up when an unfamiliar voice suddenly calls out.
 
“Draka? Draka, are you… in here…?”
 
Eyes snapping open, Harry looks over at the tent entrance along with everyone else, just as Aggra steps inside and looks upon all of them. Aggralan of the Mag’har, more commonly known as Aggra, was an orc shaman charged with training Thrall in the traditional shamanic arts back in the day. From what Harry knew, they’d bonded during that time and began a romantic relationship, ultimately becoming mates.
 
That doesn’t quite explain why she’s here now… unless one takes into account that one of Harry’s conquests was the alternate version of Thrall’s mother, Draka of the Frostwolf Clan. Draka, who was currently in a particularly lewd sixty-nine with her own sister at this point, the two of them tonguing out each other’s assholes in preparation for what Harry had promised he would visit upon them. The Frostwolf sisters are so lost in their own little world that they’re two of the only people in the tent who haven’t noticed Aggra’s arrival.
 
“W-What is going on in here?! I-!”
 
Before Aggra can get a full head of steam going, probably angry over them holding a full-blown orgy in the middle of a battle, Yrel smashes her in the back of her head with the pommel of her crystal Warhammer. The Draenei has a beatific smile on her lips as Aggra crumples, unconscious, into Yrel’s arms.
 
“Not to worry… I’ll explain things to her~”
 
It should have been worrying. It should have been a line they weren’t going to cross… but Harry had already crossed so many lines since coming to Draenor. Hell, he’d been crossing lines for years now. What was one more? Leaving Yrel to her work, Harry focuses back on Azuka and Ger’hel, intent on giving them all he has to offer as they go right back to deep throating his dick and gobbling his balls respectively.
 
-x-X-x-
 
Aggra had indeed been seeking out Draka. The moment she had noticed that the other orc was not in the battle, she’d grown concerned. While this world’s Draka was not in fact her mate’s mother, that didn’t mean there wasn’t a connection there. Even if both she and Thrall were practically of the same age with this Draka, they had developed bonds all the same in their time assisting the Frostwolf Clan in Frostfire Ridge.
 
Loath to alert Thrall to Draka’s absence when she knew he would need all of his focus and attention on the upcoming duel with Garrosh, Aggra had decided she would go and locate the missing Frostwolf Shaman of her own accord. Unfortunately, what had started out as little more than a simple effort to gets eyes on Draka, had led her right into a trap.
 
Despite Aggra’s deep connection to the elements… this world was not her own. Even despite having grown up on a version of it with the Mag’har, she was still alien to this place, to this unbroken Draenor. After spending most of her life working with the remnants of the world, the Outlands, and then even more time attuning to the elements on Azeroth, she simply hadn’t had a chance to do the same with Draenor.
 
That wasn’t to say her shamanistic abilities were lost to her, however. They most certainly were not. Unfortunately, the communication between her and this world’s elements was a bit more… spotty. And that was how Aggra found herself walking right into a trap, led to Draka’s location by elemental spirits that were practically screaming at her to put an end to some sort of perversion or corruption that was taking place in their back lines.
 
Truth be told, Aggra had thought she was going to discover that the Shadow Council had finally made a move and Draka had been captured for use in some sort of ritual against the Horde, the Alliance, and the Iron Horde. It would be par for the course, all things considered. But that wasn’t what she’d found at all. Instead, Aggra had stumbled upon… she still didn’t know what she’d stumbled upon.
 
Having come back to consciousness a few minutes ago, the beautiful Mag’har shaman finds herself trussed up, bound in chains and unable to so much as call upon the elements due to some arcane protections over this tent. Completely helpless, she’s forced to watch as the human mage, Harry Potter if her memory served her right, began to powerfully and from the sound of it, painfully fuck Lokra in the ass.
 
With Draka beneath the two of them, her tongue moving to her younger sister’s cunt, and Lokra on her hands and knees above Draka, Harry was behind Lokra and pounding into the Frostwolf orcish woman with all his might, drawling strangled cries of pleasure and pain alike from her.
 
Meanwhile, Aggra’s own situation wasn’t much better. The Draenei known as Yrel towers over her, grinding the edge of her hoof up into Aggra’s naked, exposed cunt.
 
“Do you not see what I see? Do you not yet understand? You must submit, as all of them have submitted. You must submit before his majesty.”
 
Yrel was insane, and Aggra was horrified at what she’d stumbled upon to. And yet, at the same time, Thrall’s mate was struggling to maintain her composure. Not that Aggra realized it, but just being in Harry’s presence was corruptive at this point in time. Yrel was merely bringing it out of her with her hoof-fucking, forcing her hoof up into Aggra’s cunt, grinding away at her pussy as the shaman got wetter and wetter in the process.
 
Gasping and groaning, Aggra nevertheless bites out a response.
 
“Y-You can’t believe you’ll, nngh, g-get away with this!”
 
Yrel scoffs at that, crossing her arms under her impressive buxom bosom.
 
“Get away with what? This is the way things will be, from now on. Everyone will soon know the Master’s power.”
 
“N-No… they w-won’t accept it!”
 
“They will, or they will die. But enough about them… let’s focus on you…”
 
With that said, Yrel yanks Aggra up by her own ponytail, a very common hairstyle for orcish women. She drags Aggra onto her knees, fondling the shaman’s breasts as Aggra gasps and whimpers. More importantly, Yrel forces her to watch as Harry goes to town on Lokra and Draka, currently anally pounding Lokra into a squealing, mind broken mess. But Draka was next up on the chopping block, and they all knew it.
 
Meanwhile, Azuka and Ger’hel are still fighting over the massive load of cum that Harry exploded all over their faces. Like a one-man bukkake, he’d came gallons when he finally hit his release, coating them in his seed from their heads to their tits. The two ‘warlords’ are currently doing their best to get as much of his cum off of one another as they possibly can, in a grotesque display of sycophancy and obsession that leaves Aggra sick to her stomach.
 
To say nothing of what has been done to Garona and Cordana. Aggra hasn’t had much interaction with the Archmage Khadgar or his retinue, truth be told. The human man has stayed relatively neutral, even as the Horde and Alliance expeditions split off, barely keeping in contact… except through Harry, Aggra realizes with a tinge of horror.
 
Regardless, the orcish woman is fairly confident that neither Garona nor Cordana are supposed to look like THAT, like a pair of… of bimbofied sex dreams. Their bodies are curvaceous and voluptuous to the extreme, not a hint of strength or muscle left to them. They’ve been reduced to nothing more than fuck toys for the pleasure of their human master, and a tendril of fear runs down Aggra’s spine at the thought that she might suffer the same fate soon enough.
 
An extremely loud squeal from Lokra diverts the attention of Thrall’s mate back over to his mother and her younger sister. Harry groans as he cums buckets inside of Lokra’s ass, finishing up that round of painal by inflating the young orcish woman’s belly with the sheer amount of seed he pumps into her. Then, he pushes her over onto her side, off of Draka… and goes for Thrall’s mother next.
 
“No!”
 
Aggra’s cry of denial falls on deaf ears as Harry falls upon Draka, grabbing her by her strong legs and nevertheless managing to easily manhandle her into position. He forces her legs back against her body, lifting her ass into the sky… and is plunging his lubricated cock into her bowels with all of his might a moment later. Draka cries out in pain and pleasure just as her sister did, before being silenced by Harry’s tongue as he smashes his mouth into hers, kissing her and dominating her in every possible way.
 
From Aggra’s vantage point, it looks like Draka… l-like Draka loves every last moment of it. But that can’t be right, can it? Whimpering, Aggra tries to shake her head, she tries to look away, only now realizing she can. But of course, she actually can’t. Yrel won’t let her, the Draenei even going so far as to grab Aggra by the jaw and force her head back around, so she HAS to watch what’s happening in front of her.
 
“Don’t look away now. We both know you love it. We both know how much you want it. No one can resist him. No one can resist his might.”
 
Dropping down to her knees behind Aggra, Yrel gets more aggressive, whispering sweet nothings into Aggra’s ears as she gropes and squeezes and mauls Aggra’s body, eventually thrusting three whole fingers up into her increasingly sopping cunt. Having fully discerned Harry’s corruptive effect by this point (not that she considers it corruptive) Yrel builds upon it, helping Aggra along, weakening her more and more for the eventual taking she’ll be experiencing.
 
Around the time that Harry cums inside of Draka’s ass, Aggra experiences her first explosive orgasm from Yrel’s not-so-tender mercies. The orcish shaman squeals and shrieks as she spasms and squirts all over Yrel’s hand, which subsequently turns into a fist that begins to piston in and out of Aggra’s pussy, until the orc woman simply can’t take it any longer and is hoarsely shrieking to high heavens, cumming again and again for Yrel as Harry’s mere presence begins to truly influence her mind in the… ‘right’ direction.
 
By the time Yrel finally pulls away from her, Aggra is exhausted and beleaguered, but still… still mostly in her right mind. Even as she finds herself focusing on Harry’s cock a bit too much. Currently, the human wizard is partaking of the final three women in his little harem. Kaz the Shrieker is bouncing up and down on his big fat cock, while Cordana and Garona are smothering him with their massive pairs of mammaries.
 
Azuka and Ger’hel have mostly cleaned each other off by now, and are resting, waiting for their next turn. Lokra and Draka are still cleaning one another off but are close to doing the same.
 
It’s into this moment that Yrel strides, walking to the center of the tent… and beginning her speech, her sermon. Much of it, Aggra has heard already in the crazed Draenei’s murmurings into her ear. But now Yrel is preaching it to everyone in the tent.
 
“Bask in it! Bask in his glory! Bask in his Light! Only through our Master were we all united! Only through our Master will we be able to unite in full against the Burning Legion! Mere submission is not enough! Mere devotion is not enough! We must give all of ourselves to our Master! We must become the first of his disciples and spread HIS word all across this world! All across the STARS!”
 
Aggra can tell that Yrel means every word, that she fully intends to make this into reality. More than that, from her vantage point, Aggra watches as the eyes of the other women in the tent all light up with a religious fervor to them, and the cum on and in their bodies begins to glow. Yrel isn’t just preaching, she’s casting a spell, performing a ritual… one that reminds Aggra of a time long ago, evoking imagery of the first time the orcs fell to the corruption of the Legion.
 
This is not Fel, however… this is something else. And this new group of orcs, rather than drinking demon blood, is basking in human cum… in their Master’s cum. Watching in a mixture of horror and arousal, Aggra can only gaze upon the scene, unsure what to do… unable to raise any more resistance as her loins BURN with glorious purpose and desire…
 
In truth, this is more akin to something that might have happened if not for Harry’s presence. If Harry hadn’t been here, in another timeline, Yrel would have been taken in just as easily by a Prime Naaru. This Prime Naaru, the Mother of Light, would have converted Yrel and her brothers and sisters to a way of thinking that would have created the Lightbound. In the wake of this conversion, the orcs of Draenor would have been forced to bow down and submit… or die.
 
Of course, this was not that. There was no Mother of Light here, and if there had been, she likely would have been bent over and spanked before being impaled on Harry’s big fat cock just like all of the others. Instead, Yrel had found an object of devotion even earlier than that other timeline. In a way, one might call this the formation of the ‘cockbound’, in which Yrel was still converting those around her… but to worship and devotion to Harry’s cock in particular, rather than the Light or the Naaru.
 
Of course, Aggra knew none of this. All she knew was that she was in serious danger…
 
-x-X-x-
 
… He was pretty sure he should have put a stop to this, at least at some point. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Even while his face was buried in Cordana and Garona’s massive tits, Harry had been able to hear Yrel speaking, preaching really. He’d known that the Draenei was a little… zealous for some time now, but he certainly hadn’t expected her to start a crusade in his name.
 
By all rights, he should have ended things then and there, should have brought all of this to a stop and taken Yrel to task for promising things on his behalf. He hadn’t however, for one simple reason.
 
You deserve this.
 
The voice in the back of his head, periodically whispering encouragement to him. Now, one would expect Harry Potter of all people to know better than to listen to unknown voices. After all, this was the wizard who, back when he was barely a teenager, had managed to throw off the Imperius curse of all things. There was just one problem with that. The voice was not unknown to him. It was his voice.
 
All of them belong on their knees before you. All of them must submit.
 
It was hard not to get caught up in things, at least in the moment. Part of Harry knew that he should have put a stop to all of this, but a larger part of him wanted to see where this was all going to go. And so, the big-dicked human wizard found himself sat back on a conjured throne as Yrel led his new ‘devotees’ forward, one by one.
 
After filling Kaz the Shrieker to the brim with his seed, leaving her absolutely stuffed with his cum and twitching uncontrollably on the floor, Harry had allowed Yrel to convince him that this was necessary. He’d allowed her to set this all up, so they could… continue. And so, Draka was the first to come forward. Bouncing up and down on his cock, squealing and moaning, she pledges herself to him.
 
“You are my one true Master! I am yours! Use me as you will!”
 
As she squeals, as she shrieks, as she rides him, Yrel is in the background. Harry watches as the Draenei rests the massive crystal head of her Warhammer in the puddle of his cum that’s currently disgorging out of Kaz’s stretched, gaping pussy. He watches as Yrel speaks a quiet prayer and a flash of Light seems to extend upwards into her hammer from the cum puddle.
 
And then he watches as, at the moment where he cums inside of Draka, his cock throbbing with need and pulsating in purpose, Yrel strides up behind the Frostwolf Shaman and thrusts the cum-soaked head of her Warhammer against Draka’s left buttocks. With a hissing sound and a louder scream than before from the orcish woman, Yrel brands Draka with some strange combination of Light magic and Harry’s cum, marking her as one of his in a deeper way than even the hot load of seed he’s pumping into her womb.
 
After she’s done, Yrel drags Draka off of his lap by her hair and delivers a deep, tongue-filled kiss to the female orc before smiling at her.
 
“Now you are one with our Master. Now his seed will take within your womb, and you will grow heavy with his child.”
 
Oh. That was… well, it wasn’t Harry’s original plan, but he couldn’t complain.
 
Yes. Consume. Control. Spread. They, all of them, are ours to seed.
 
After Draka comes Lokra, who rides him in much the same way, her cunt walls clenching around his cock until finally, she milks him of his load right as Yrel brands her too. The Draenei insists on inducting each of the women into her perverse ritual, each of them extracting a load from Harry through various means of fucking and sucking, only to receive a brand from Yrel at the climax of the moment.
 
Lokra and Draka are the first, but they are far from the last. Cordana and Garona both follow suit, the two women that Harry had corrupted taking to the binding even better then their predecessors. They squeal and tighten up so very nicely around Harry’s cock, their pussies clenching down on his shaft. Their bimbofied, slutty body glow with his power and the Light, something mixing within them.
 
When Yrel brands these two, it’s not like it was with Lokra and Draka. Far from just having a brand on their buttocks, lines of Light energy flow across their bodies, patterns like cum splatters soon shining out of their flesh. Their eyes roll back in their heads and their tongues loll out of their mouths as bright light explodes from both their eye sockets and their maws.
 
Harry worries for them for all of a moment before the lightshow ends and they slump forward, still breathing, still just fine. Yrel pulls them off of him, one after the other, and then deposits Kaz onto his cock last. The Shrieker, having already taken a load up her cunt, impales herself anally on his prick, facing away from him as she rides him and sings his praises with a religious zealotry to the rest of the women in the room.
 
The Laughing Skull Chieftain squeals and screams, much to the watching approval of Yrel, who uses the last of the cum puddle that Kaz left behind to brand her as well. Of course, given Kaz’s position, the Shrieker ends up branded on her tit rather than her ass, drawing an even louder scream from her lips as the sensitive breast flesh chars slightly under the branding, the glowing light of the brand shining off of her chest once it’s done and over with.
 
But of course, it’s not over yet. With Kaz finished, that’s the last of Harry’s already completed conquests. However, they have a guest, one that Harry has allowed Yrel to handle up until this point, partially out of a lack of desire to deal with her. Unfortunately, running from his problems is exactly what got him into this mess, and it seems he can run no more as Yrel drags Aggra of the Mag’har in front of him, Thrall’s life-mate looking up at Harry with disgust, loathing, and arousal all clear in her horrified eyes.
 
“You must show this one the meaning of your glory, Master.”
 
“Y-You can’t hope to get away with his! The Horde will not l-let this stand! You are a monster! A mad man!”
 
Despite Aggra’s words, her desire is quite obvious, even to Harry. And yet… he really shouldn’t. This was Thrall’s wife, basically. Even if they hadn’t had a human wedding or anything, they were as close as a married couple could be. If he did this… well, it’s not like marriage had ever stopped Harry before. And yet, this time felt different. This time felt like he was crossing the line, the point of no return.
 
“… I shouldn’t.”
 
Yrel’s eyes widen in surprise, and she looks worried as she leans forward.
 
“Y-You must, Master! This one will ruin everything if you do not! She will expose us before we are ready to reveal ourselves to the nonbelievers!”
 
“I will expose you regardless! My disappearance will be noticed! And if you think you can break me, you are sorely mistaken! I am Aggra of the Mag’har and I-mmph! Gllluuuuughk! Guuuuurghk! … Gagkh! Gagkh! Gagkh!”
 
“Don’t you ever shut up?”
 
Harry grumbles, even as he holds onto Aggra’s ponytail, none-too-gently face fucking her upon his mammoth-sized member. He definitely shouldn’t be doing this… but he wants it. He wants her. And if she thinks he can’t break her like he has all the others, then she’s in for a rude awakening to say the least.
 
Yes. Conquer. Convert.
 
That sounded good to him. Yrel watches, the worry on her face disappearing as a sublime sort of smile spreads across the Draenei’s features. She beams at him happily, while rubbing herself against the haft of her massive Warhammer, the cum-coated head of which is resting against the ground as she grinds her pussy lips against the handle.
 
Harry makes eye contact with his most devoted, most zealous disciple, and the two of them stare into one another’s eyes as he face fucks Aggra viciously upon his bitch breaker of a cock. The reluctant, defiant orc’s gagging and choking fill the tent, even as her inability to bite down on his cock shows how far gone, she already is. Instead of chomping away, she’s just… taking it, like the helpless, hapless damsel in distress she’s been reduced to.
 
Unfortunately for Aggra, no one is coming to save her. She’s stuck with Harry and his… disciples now. With a lust-filled growl, Harry drives Aggra all the way down his cock, all the way to the base of his member. Still staring Yrel right in the eye, he buries Aggra’s face in his crotch and begins to cum down the struggling, squirming orc’s throat. She does her best to swallow, unable to do anything else if she wants to avoid drowning, but still much of his seed comes back up, exploding out of her nostrils and the sides of her mouth and coating her chin and tits as it flows down her front.
 
Finishing up in her throat, Harry pulls out of Aggra’s mouth, finally shifting his gaze downward to stare at Aggra’s dazed face. The defiance in the orcish woman’s eyes is gone, the Mag’har shaman already half-broken. Harry can’t help but sneer.
 
“Is this all you’ve got? Stupid bitch.”
 
He knows this is wrong, truly he does… but he just can’t help himself. With ease, he hoists Aggra up into the air, tearing away her chains as he spins her around and finally rises from her throne. In front of all of the other women in the tent, Harry folds Aggra of the Mag’har up like a pretzel, so that her legs are up by her head and her pussy is nice and exposed with her thighs spread. His arms go up under her legs and then back behind her head in a textbook perfect full nelson.
 
Harry waits just long enough for Aggra to recover from her incredibly violent skull fucking session, waits to hear the first coherent noises out of her mouth.
 
“Wha-?”
 
And then he drops her down onto his cock with a vicious glee bordering on straight up sadism.
 
“!!!”
 
No more words come out of Aggra’s mouth as Harry’s massive pecker spears up into her sopping wet, incredibly hot depths, invading her aroused core with ease. Her burning loins splay open for him, spreading before his massive meat pillar like butter spreading for a knife. Her inner walls nevertheless clench down around his cock, either to push him out or keep him in. It matters little, because in the end despite their difference in sizes, Harry is stronger than Aggra. Allowing him to manhandle and fuck Thrall’s mate as he is without any issue.
 
Aggra’s squeals and screams as she’s fucked in such a humiliating and degrading way quickly fill the tent, even as his branded, marked followers all watch on in delight, their eyes glowing with happiness and excitement. Even Draka, who had developed a friendship with both Thrall and Aggra, is so very pleased to see Harry conquering the other orcish woman now. After all, with this, the two of them can be sister-slaves under their Master’s command. It’s only where they belong, at the end of the day.
 
At seeing their Master enjoying himself so much, the whole lot of them begin to enjoy themselves as well, turning things into an orgy of epic proportions with Harry at the epicenter of it all. As womanly moans fill the tent, as the background becomes suffused with sapphic energy, Harry sneers into Aggra’s ear, continuing to slam her down onto his big fat cock time and time again.
 
“Is this the cock you thought you could beat, you dumb bitch? Did you really think you wouldn’t break? I’ve broken stronger cunts then you with this cock, and I have no doubt I’ll break stronger ones after you!”
 
Aggra, of course, can do nothing but squeal pathetically in response. And even that, she doesn’t get to do for long, as Yrel finally steps forward, panting and moaning lustfully at seeing Harry taking control. His first disciple grabs Aggra by the face and begins to tongue-kiss her, smashing their mouths together and thrusting her tongue down the orc shaman’s throat.
 
At the same time, Light energy emanates from Yrel’s hands, pushing right into Aggra’s cheeks. The orcish woman seizes up, muffled squeals filling Yrel’s mouth as she clenches down even harder than before on Harry’s cock. Together, the two of them tag team Aggra right through her very first mind break. The Mag’har orc, having survived the fall of her home, having escaped the corruption of her people at the hands of the Legion, having found love with Thrall… is nevertheless broken upon Harry’s massive member, unable to withstand the power flowing through her, or the huge fuck stick pounding out her insides.
 
As she cums again and again for them, orgasming explosively while being bounced up and down on Harry’s dick, Yrel pulls back and grabs up her Warhammer once more. Luckily, there’s a replenished puddle of cum at this point, produced by all of the other branded disciples. Yet again, Yrel dips her warhammer’s crystal head into that cum. Yet again, she mutters the incantation, making it glow with light.
 
As Harry thrusts up into Aggra one final time, pumping his way up inside of her and ultimately tipping over the edge, he begins to fill and fill her with his cum. Her belly starts to inflate, her abdomen distending with the sheer amount of his seed being stuffed into her womb. Given it’s her first time being plugged by his bitch breaker of a cock, Aggra’s body really hasn’t had enough time to adjust to his size yet, not even remotely.
 
As such, not an ounce of his cum comes squirting out of her womb. It all stays inside of her, even as Yrel carefully raises her Warhammer… and presses the cum-soaked glowing head into Aggra’s distended belly, giving her a branding right over her cum-stuffed womb.
 
If the others were almost guaranteed to get pregnant after being creampied and branded in Yrel’s ritual, then Aggra… Aggra was one hundred percent guaranteed. There was just no doubt about it, the explosion of Light energy as the branding hisses into her flesh, the way her insides clench down even HARDER around Harry’s cock… it’s all exactly as it should be, and in that moment Thrall’s mate is no more.
 
A mind broken, eager-to-please-her-Master orcish woman is left in her place.
 
Slowly, Harry releases Aggra from his hold, allowing her to slide off of his cock and onto the floor. Then, he looks to Yrel. Yrel looks back at him… and smiles, both of them knowing what had to happen next. After all, there was only one woman left in the tent without a brand…
 
-x-X-x-
 
Yrel gurgles and groans as she bends over, her nostrils flaring uselessly against her Master’s massive set of gonads as she deep-throats the object of her worship, taking Harry’s cock all the way to the base and then some. Meanwhile, her massive child-bearing hips press Harry’s head back against his throne, very nearly smothering him with her quim but not quite as he gropes and squeezes her buttocks, eating her out with an elongated tongue.
 
The gorgeous, sweat-covered Draenei has more than earned this reward. With a branding of her own on her right buttocks, marking her as Harry’s right-hand woman, Yrel is beside herself with happiness. Especially since her own branding was delivered by all of Harry’s other disciples combined. When one of them had tried to lift Yrel’s Warhammer, they’d found it too heavy for them. Not on a physical level, they were all strong orcs, but on a metaphysical level.
 
Her weapon, much like all of them, had become attuned to Harry by the brandings it had given out. It had become attuned to Yrel, as well. Only one worthy of its power could wield it, and that, so far, was Yrel. However, a whole bunch of lesser devotees to Harry’s might could also wield it, as they’d discovered. The lot of them had picked Yrel’s Warhammer up together, even Aggra joining in to assist. They’d raised it and while Yrel rode her Master to kingdom cum, basking in her glorious purpose nearly fulfilled, they’d pressed it into her buttocks, branding her with Harry’s mark and completing the ritual entirely.
 
Now, Yrel was sixty-nining with their Master, groaning and choking herself quite eagerly upon his cock. Up and down, she bobs, slurping and sucking away, gagging and gurgling all the while.
 
“Glughk! Glughk! Glughk!”
 
Finally, though, she feels what she’s been waiting for, she feels his cock begin to pulse. Pulling back off of it at the last second, Yrel grabs her Master’s massive member and guides it in bathing the circle of females just at his feet. Kneeling there, the orcs along with Cordana and Garona happily take his cum upon themselves with a religious, zealous fervor.
 
They bask in his glory, and their eyes glow with the power of the Light through their cum-soaked faces. The expressions of jubilant glee and happiness on their ruined, messy features gives Yrel an orgasm second only to the ones given to her by Harry as she shudders in abject ecstasy.
 
Finally… finally, everything is coming full circle. Finally, she’s not alone. There are others who recognize her Master’s glory now. And it’s only a matter of time before they spread word of his power to the nonbelievers.

-x-X-x-

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