“Master of Death, I would beg a boon of thee.”
 
Harry tilts his head to the side as he considers Bretta’s solemn tone. Considering the Valkyra Queen is on her knees before him with her tits wrapped around his gargantuan member while he sits upon a throne of flesh (moaning, writhing, and WILLING flesh, mind you) the tone is a little… out of place. Oh sure, she has all of the usual proper reverence in her voice, but the lust is absent, despite their current activities. Right now, Bretta is being one hundred percent serious, despite the situation.
 
“Very well. Speak.”
 
Modulating his own tone, Harry focuses his emerald eyes on the kneeling Queen, watching as she shivers under his gaze. As well she should.
 
“There is a… Valkyra Prophecy, Master. Foretold in the Ancient Scroll of the Faldrottin.”
 
Harry’s eyes narrow immediately at that. If Bretta was about to tell him that there was a prophecy foretelling HIS coming, he was going to be very annoyed indeed. Especially it being a Valkyra Prophecy. He would hope that they at least had their own heroes, their own legends, their own destiny… before he’d come along to usurp it all.
 
It had been a long time, since he’d been bound by prophecy. Still, he keeps most of his irritation from his face, waiting to at least hear Bretta out.
 
“The prophecy from what I’ve been able to interpret, dictates a new Vrykul Ruler, one who would unite the clans once more… and turn the Tideskorn against the Burning Legion, once my son is dealt with. I believe there is only one person this prophecy could possibly pertain to.”
 
Not him, at least. He wasn’t Vrykul. Suddenly, Harry is a tad more interested, a bit more willing to hear Bretta out. He leans forward, curious now.
 
“… I have a granddaughter. Sigryn. She is not with her father, from what I understand. In fact, Skovald’s entire family was thought dead, murdered by assassins. Her mother and her brother, my daughter-in-law and grandson, were slain. But she escaped. A body was never found, and while many believe that means there were no remains left of her, I know what it truly means. She survived that night and is out there somewhere.”
 
Harry hums at that. Admittedly, he’d always intended on uniting the Vrykul against the Legion, especially once Skovald and Odyn were BOTH taken care of. He had no intention of letting either man continue to reign when they’d done so much damage at this point. For Helya’s sake if nothing else, Odyn had to go. For Eyir’s sake as well, truth be told.
 
But there was no denying that his way would be bloody. Even after Skovald and Odyn were… removed, getting the Vrykul of the Broken Isles and the Halls of Valor to accept Harry as their leader… it would be difficult, to say the least. Many would probably die before those who survived could be brought in line.
 
On the other hand, if Bretta was right and this Sigryn did indeed live, then she would make an excellent heir, wouldn’t she? Especially if she truly was a child of prophecy.
 
Being a child of prophecy himself, Harry couldn’t help but be a little interested in this Sigryn. It sounded like she’d had a rough life. She’d lost everyone, and if she lived, she was likely all alone. Hmph, a classic hero’s journey, no doubt.
 
… Yes, he decides then and there, he will in fact help Bretta with this. As he looks down at the Queen, her breasts still sliding up and down his cock and her lips sucking at his tip for a moment while he was deep in thought, Harry smiles. Bretta removes her mouth from his member in order to look up at him hopefully, and Harry answers that hope with a nod.
 
“Very well, Bretta. I will grant this boon. We will seek out your granddaughter and see if she truly is the one your prophecy speaks of.”
 
Bretta’s eyes widen in delight, the MILF of a Valkyra Queen sliding her breasts along his cock even faster as she lets out a VERY lustful moan indeed. She hadn’t been bereft of lust there for a moment, she had been HIDING it as she’d asked him very seriously if he would grant her this favor. Harry watches on in amusement as all of the lust she’d been repressing comes out at once.
 
“Thank you, Master! Thank you, Lord Potter! Ah, p-please… please allow this lowly servant to pleasure you!”
 
Harry just snorts. Wasn’t that already what he was doing? And really? Lowly servant? He rolls his eyes at Bretta’s antics, while reaching back to palm a tit on one of the happy, moaning priestesses that make up his current ‘throne’. With a fond sigh, he uses his other hand to wave absently at Bretta, letting the Queen know to get on with it. After all, it would seem they had places to be, didn’t they?
 
-x-X-x-
 
After their fun is finished, Harry gears up along with Bretta and Ashildir, the three of them setting off the next day. Luckily, Bretta already has a potential lead in a small Vrykul Town called Jandvik. Located in a small bay on the Eastern Side of Suramar, it’s not hard to get to, all in all. That said, the town is not in the best of states.
 
When they first arrive, they are greeted respectfully, if not warmly. Bretta and Ashildir’s presence more than makes up for any sort of derision that Harry’s diminutive size would have drawn. At least, mostly. As it turns out, Jandvik is experiencing a time of upheaval, chaos, and mayhem. Its coastal nature has led to Naga attacks, and the town is on something of a precipice at their arrival, mostly because their Jarl had disappeared during one of the attacks.
 
Rather than hunting for this Jarl Throndyr to at least confirm his death, the Vrykul of Jandvik had immediately fell into infighting, with those among them who thought themselves worthy of leadership wanting to decide then and there who would become the new Jarl. From what Harry understood at the time, there were three potential successors to the missing Jarl. Calder, Eynar… and Toryl.
 
Heh, in the end, it was Toryl who became Jarl. Not because of anything she did, but rather because of what she didn’t do. She actually shied away from Harry and his little group when they first arrived, seeming shocked by the sight of Bretta and Ashildir. She’d kept her distance and moved carefully around them.
 
Calder and Eynar, however… while they’d both been respectful at first, recognizing the Valkyra in their midst as two very powerful, very capable, legendary warriors… the moment they realized that Bretta and Ashildir answered to HIM, everything changed. Harry had to give the two Vrykul men points. They weren’t sexist, at least. They were just racist and discovering that two women who they were expected to hold in such high regard and esteem were in fact beholden to a puny ‘manlet’ such as Harry… it stuck in their craw something fierce.
 
It didn’t take more than an hour of being in the town for both Calder and Eynar to challenge Harry… and die by his hand. Leaving only the respectful, circumspect Toryl as candidate for Jarl. Rather than simply announce herself however, she had approached carefully… and asked for permission to name herself Jarl of Jandvik. Harry was sure he was asking Bretta and Ashildir, but they just looked to him, desiring he make his opinion clear. And, seeing how it would be easier to handle one person than a bunch of people, Harry just shrugged and agreed.
 
It was a little surprising, how Toryl bowed so lowly to him before announcing herself to the Jandvik citizenry properly. Harry, with his enhanced hearing, had detected some intense distrust from the crowd… but with Calder and Eynar dead, no one was willing to gainsay her. According to Toryl, she was the last remaining successor, and from the way everyone ultimately went along with her and her ultimatums, it seemed she was not lying.
 
Afterwards, Toryl’s tone remained respectful towards him, which Harry took to be an overall mark of her intelligence. To be fair, if she had been caustic or aggressive, he wouldn’t have killed her like he had Calder and Eynar. Maybe that made HIM sexist… but he had ways of breaking insubordinate women that he would never use on a similarly irritating male. Bretta and Ashildir were living proof of that, heh.
 
Far from trying to order, Toryl went on to ask him very cautiously if he would look for their missing Jarl. While she claimed she was confident he had fallen in battle to the Naga that were invading their shores, she needed to know for certain. It wasn’t lost on Harry that she was only sending him on this mission AFTER she’d already secured herself as Jarl.
 
Truth be told, he was mostly surprised that she hadn’t asked him to make SURE the old Jarl was dead. He was after all just a human mercenary in her eyes, right? Or perhaps not. Perhaps Bretta and Ashildir’s combined presence changed things dramatically for Toryl.
 
Still, locating Jarl Throndyr wasn’t particularly difficult. Shockingly enough, the old Jarl wasn’t quite dead just yet. He was on death’s door, however. The poison that ran through his veins was very close to killing him, when Harry had finally shown up. Technically, he could have removed it. Technically, he could have even healed Throndyr, bringing him back from the brink of death.
 
It would have caused quite the stir, he was sure. What Toryl would have done, Harry knew not. In the end, he decided not to go that route, because Toryl would be much easier to control then Throndyr… and besides, the old Jarl had other uses to him all the same.
 
Quieting the pain, letting Throndyr die peacefully and ensuring he got a proper funeral, he had then immediately had Ashildir and Bretta raise the deceased Jarl to join the growing ranks of his army.

With that task taken care of, he had returned to Jandvik with news of the Jarl’s demise. Toryl’s reign was secure, though that didn’t mean they were out of the woods yet. There were still the Naga to contend with. Or so Harry had figured. What was odd was the state of things when he finally returned.
 
Simply put… the Naga attacks had apparently stopped completely in his absence. Things were peaceful in Jandvik, as if Toryl’s leadership had caused everything to quiet down, or as though the Naga truly only wanted Jarl Throndyr dead and with him gone, they had retreated. It didn’t quite make sense to Harry, but he supposed it was for the best. They could now look for Sigryn uninterrupted, right?
 
Setting Bretta and Ashildir on precisely that task, Harry was just preparing to get ready to begin his own search for the wayward Vrykul of Prophecy when Toryl approached him again, as deferential and referent as ever, despite the absence of his two Valkyra.
 
“My Lord. May I have a moment of your time?”
 
While Harry was a little baffled that she was willing to treat him so well without Bretta and Ashildir around… he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. For all he knew, Toryl was simply a very wise example of her species. Most Vrykul, including the women, were brash, abrasive, and racist to the extreme to anyone who wasn’t a Vrykul or wasn’t ‘honorable’ or wasn’t ‘strong’.
 
Toryl though, appeared to be QUITE different from your average Vrykul. So… subservient without all of the leg work he usually had to put in. It was a strange change of pace, Harry had to admit.
 
“Sure. What do you need, Toryl?”
 
Smiling softly, Toryl gestures to the shore.
 
“There is an underwater cave near here. I believe I have discovered why the Naga stopped their attacks. I fear that going alone, I would endanger not just myself, but all of Jandvik. Would you be willing to accompany me, to put a final rest to all of this… nonsense?”
 
Cocking his head to the side for a moment, Harry eventually nods.
 
“Very well.”
 
Toryl’s smile grows into a broad, happy thing. He’s immediately on guard, of course. But he doesn’t call Bretta or Ashildir back to him. What would be the point? He’s not some weakling royal, to require guards to protect his golden hide. He’s more than capable of protecting himself, no matter what titles or accolades or positions everyone is constantly trying to assign him.
 
And so, he follows Toryl underwater, into the underground cave. He’s ready for a betrayal of some sorts, fully prepared for Toryl to turn on him and force him to turn the tables on her.
 
However, he has to admit… he’s properly surprised by what he finds down there, once he arrives. There, in the damp, dimly lit cave, is a cage. And within that cage… is Toryl.
 
“Human! Watch out, that is an impostor!”
 
Harry isn’t particularly worried, truth be told. While it explains a lot, he’s still not in any danger. The spell he has protecting him is a dual-purpose bit of magic. Not only does it shield him from attacks, but it also alerts him of danger from any direction, giving him near-universal coverage beyond what only his eyes could see.
 
And… while he has just found out that he’s never actually engaged with the REAL Toryl, explaining exactly why the fake Toryl was so very kind and willing to work not just with him, but under him, Harry isn’t getting an alert that he’s about to be attacked. Eyes narrowed, but more thoughtfully then angrily, Harry turns back to the fake Toryl.
 
A demand for an explanation is on his lips, but it dies almost immediately at what he sees behind him. The fake Toryl has dropped her guise… revealing a Naga Tidemistress in all of her glorious, scaly nature. Instead of attacking him however, the Tidemistress is prostrating herself before him, moaning in almost rapturous delight.
 
Putting two and two together, Harry lifts a single brow.
 
“Tidemistress Sashj’tar, I presume.”
 
A gasping, hissing breath escapes from the Naga Tidemistress.
 
“Masssster knowsss my name. Yesss Massster, this one is Tidemistress Sassshj’tar. This one welcomesssss the God of Death in the name of her Queen, Queen Azsssshara!”
 
Wait… what? Harry blinks as he considers Sashj’tar for a long moment in stupefied silence. He’d been called a lot of things. Master of Death had been popping up a lot recently, for sure. Master of Life and Death as well. But GOD of Death? Last he’d looked, he was no God. And yet… something deep within him almost seems to take notice at the Tidemistress’ reverent greeting.
 
And… she’d mentioned Queen Azshara… Harry’s lips thin out, as he’s taken back to that little trip through the Caverns of Time. When he’d took Queen Azshara upon her very throne and broken the haughty Queen of the Night Elves upon his massive bitch breaker of a cock. If any bitch deserved to be broken, it had been Azshara. Still… that was all an alternate timeline… right? Or did Harry not understand how the Caverns of Time WORKED?
 
Not idle in his moment of stupefaction and internal confusion, Sashj’tar slithers up to Harry. His alarm system still doesn’t go off however, and it’s clear she’s not trying to attack him as she meekly kisses his feet, her snake hair singing his praises in parseltongue. As Harry looks down at the Naga in baffled confusion, the third person in the cave makes their presence known once more.
 
“What… what is the meaning of this? This human is no God! He is barely anything at all! He-!”
 
“SSSSILENCE!”
 
Quick as a whip, the Naga Tidemistress is up out of her prostrating position, rising to her full height and slipping around his body so she can loom over the real Toryl in her cage.
 
“Lowly Vrykul! How DARE you ssspeak of the God of the Deep in sssuch a fashion! He isss sssso far beyond your reckoning, fool!”
 
Harry has had enough. He wants answers and he wants them now. Snapping his fingers, he gets the Tidemistress’ attention back on him. She immediately goes back to prostrating herself before him, looking downright bashful as she wiggles and writhes on the cave floor right in front of him. Staring down at her, eyes narrowed, Harry says just one word.
 
“Explain.”
 
Blinking rapidly, Sashj’tar nods just as quickly.
 
“Yes, Master! Of course, Master! It is quite simple!”
 
The sudden lack of hissing surprises him… until he notices the confused look on Toryl’s face and realizes that the Naga is speaking to him in parseltongue, keeping the imprisoned Vrykul completely out of the loop.
 
“Long has our Queen awaited your return, Master. Ten thousand years she waited for you. Ten thousand years before she came.”
 
Harry blinks at that.
 
“Do you mean before I came?”
 
Smiling wickedly, Sashj’tar shakes her head, her snake hair hissing out in laughter.
 
“No, Master.”
 
Oh… huh.
 
Rolling his hand, Harry motions for the Tidemistress to go on. And she does. She explains everything about Azshara’s fate, about how the Queen of the Night Elves ultimately became the Queen of the Naga. How they made an empire beneath the waves that had lasted these past ten thousand years. How Harry was… he was more than just a God for them, he was their entire reason for existing.
 
Queen Azshara had apparently had statues made of him. That was… nice. Of course, Sashj’tar was quick to admit that those statues didn’t really do him justice. At least, the originals didn’t. Ten thousand years had seen no small amount of decay to the stone. The faces had been washed away, and all that had ultimately remained was his greatest feature… his cock.
 
Speaking of which, the Tidemistress stares hungrily at his crotch, until finally with a roll of his eyes, Harry vanishes his clothing. The female Naga spends a moment staring at his naked flesh in all of its glory before pushing in closer, moaning happily and rubbing her way up his legs before continuing her explanation.
 
While the original statues had all slowly but surely turned to ruin, the Naga Empire had continued to grow on one simple principle… they HAD to be ready for his return. Azshara herself was apparently in quite the state throughout the last ten thousand years. Harry could hardly imagine it, but apparently, he’d left her edging in a state of orgasm denial for ten millennia. His bad, he supposed.
 
Regardless, even with her inability to cum, Azshara had proven a capable ruler. Everything she’d done… had been for him, or so Sashj’tar claimed. There was an entire Naga Empire… built solely for the purpose of preparing for his return. Their ‘God of Death’ in mortal flesh. Of course, over time Azshara had gotten more and more irrational. She had never had the statues of him restored, and some had thought she’d even forgotten what he looked like.
 
But that was not the case… obviously, or Sashj’tar wouldn’t have recognized him in the first place. Apparently, very recently, Azshara’s long drought had come to a decisive close. The Queen of the Naga had reached climax at long last, and she and all of her people had taken this as a sign of his return. Azshara had had new statues of him commissioned, and it would seem her memory was still very intact, because Sashj’tar claimed that it was these brand new statues which she recognized his face from when he'd shown up at Jandvik.
 
It wasn’t Bretta and Ashildir’s presence that had thrown the Naga Tidemistress for a loop. It wasn’t they who prompted her shy, bashful, reverent attitude. And it wasn’t them who she was so in awe of, even as she asked for his help and began feeling him out while becoming Jarl.
 
It was him. It was always him, the Naga Tidemistress shocked by his arrival at first, but growing surer and surer of his identity with each feat he had managed to accomplish.
 
“I apologize, Master. If I had known that you intended to claim Jandvik along with the rest of the Vrykul, I would never have gone ahead with my plans for this town. Please, I beg your forgiveness. I am prepared to do anything to make it right. Anything at all~”
 
Harry blinks at that, watching as Sashj’tar hisses up at him in parseltongue, pressing her head against his waist and sliding her serpentine tongue out to flick reverently along the length of his cock as she hugs him around his legs.
 
Truth be told, trying to wrap his head around the insane ramifications that his time traveling adventures apparently had, Harry is in no position to push her away. Sure, if she was attacking him then he would feel the need to do something about it. But she’s not… she’s begging for forgiveness, of all things, and making it abundantly clear that she was happy to let him slake his lusts upon her body.
 
And… if she was telling the truth, then she wasn’t the only one. Rather, this Tidemistress was one of MANY. An entire empire under the sea, bent towards one purpose and one purpose alone… preparing the way for him. But… preparing it how? What exactly did Queen Azshara and her whole ass fucking empire think HE wanted, huh?
 
This was a lot, to say the least. Maybe… too much? Harry glances over at Toryl, the real Toryl. They’d technically never even met, and she definitely doesn’t look like she trusts him one bit. In fact, she looks terrified, though like all Vrykul she’s doing her best to hide it behind a brave face as she watches her captor all but worship him.
 
Noticing his gaze, however, prompts the Naga Tidemistress hugging his waist to suddenly pull back from him. Glancing to Sashj’tar, Harry catches a wicked smile as she slithers over to the confused Vrykul and frees her from her cage.
 
“Wha- what are you doin-mmph!”
 
Before Toryl can even try to resist, the Naga Tidemistress has already stripped her naked with those dangerous-looking claws of hers. She does not draw blood however, but she does coil the Vrykul up in her body, and lock lips with Toryl right there on the spot against the Vrykul woman’s will.
 
Harry won’t lie… the sight has his cock twitching. Already half-hard from Sashj’tar’s initial efforts, watching the snake woman restrain and makeout with Toryl definitely does something for him. Especially when Toryl, like all Vrykul, is so large… but in the end, so small when held in a Tidemistress’ grasp. With four arms and a long lower body, there’s no hope for Toryl to escape Sashj’tar’s grip, and as they kiss, the resistance slowly seems to fade away, leaving Harry to consider whether the Naga used some sort of… aphrodisiac in her saliva on the Vrykul or not.
 
Pulling apart at long last to give Toryl a chance to breathe, Sashj’tar coos down at her Vrykul captive, switching back to normal speak.
 
“It issss fine, pet. We are going to be very closssse alliesss from now on~”
 
Then, looking Harry right in the eye, clearly trying to cajole him into taking part in her offering, Sashj’tar penetrates Toryl with her tail, causing the Vrykul woman to whimper and squirm as she’s fucked by the Naga Tidemistress from below.
 
Watching the show, Harry can’t help but get further and further aroused. Chuckling, he shakes his head and begins sauntering over, his cock bouncing back and forth from thigh to thigh as he does so. Amusingly enough, this draws both Toryl AND Sashj’tar’s attention, the Vrykul and Naga women each mesmerized by his bouncing shaft for a second until he comes to a stop before them and plants his hands upon his hips.
 
“Well, if nothing else… I suppose your two factions won’t be slaughtering each other from here on out. Toryl, you’ve been out of commission so you don’t know this… but you’re Jarl now. Courtesy of this one here.”
 
Panting, eyes slightly glazed over, Toryl looks at Harry blankly for a long moment.
 
“I’m… J-Jarl?”
 
“Yesss. I usssed your form, intending to dessstroy Jandvik from within. But now the Massster decrees otherwissse. You shall rule, Jarl Toryl. In hissss name~”
 
Blushing at the thought, Toryl seems to be pondering it… even as her body shakes and bounces, jostling upon the pointed end of Sashj’tar’s tale. Meanwhile, the Tidemistress does not return to kissing her Vrykul captive. Instead, as Harry closes the distance, one of Sashj’tar’s four hands reaches out, and grasps at his massive cock, barely able to fit around his huge girth.
 
“Ssssso beautiful. Please, Massster. Give thisss one leave to pleasssure you?”
 
She sounds so hopeful. So eager. So needy. How can Harry say no? Especially when the Naga as a whole have apparently been awaiting this chance for ten THOUSAND years. Truth be told, Harry can barely wrap his head around that. He’s struggling just with Sashj’tar treating his cock like it’s some sort of holy artifact… which to be fair, by her people’s standards, it would be.
 
“Go ahead.”
 
Without hesitation, the Tidemistress winds her way down and uses her actual mouth and tongue. This leaves Toryl in something of an odd position, but she’s still completely wound up in the Naga’s coils, even as Sashj’tar brings her head down to level with Harry’s crotch and with one last reverent, wanton moan… finally takes him past her lips.
 
Almost immediately, the Naga begins to face fuck herself upon his member. She’s not content with merely holding the tip of his huge, bulbous, bitch breaker of a prick in her mouth while her long, sinuous, serpentine tongue slithers its way down his length. No, while she does that for a teeny, tiny bit… she quickly escalates, until she’s descending down his shaft, her throat bulging like… well, like the snake she is as she quickly shows her ability to dislocate her jaw so she can take a truly massive amount of man meat right into her gaping maw.
 
“Gluuuuuuuuughk!”
 
And yet, even with the additional capacity granted to her by her sea-snake like body, she still gurgles and chokes on his dick… to her own satisfaction, it would seem. Because, that does not stop her. Nothing stops her from giving him his due. Nothing keeps her from happily throating his entire cock until finally, her lips are pressed against the base of his shaft.
 
“Gagkh! Gagkh! Gagkh!”
 
As Sashj’tar happily chokes himself on her dick, her serpent tongue jerking him off while her mouth becomes like a vacuum, Harry decides to take mercy on Toryl. Well, something akin to mercy. The poor Vrykul woman is wiggling and squirming at the moment, mewling and moaning as the Naga Tidemistress’ tail continues to fuck her from below. There’s no denying that she’s enjoying herself, but also that she’s not getting ENOUGH attention.
 
It definitely wouldn’t surprise Harry to learn that the Naga Empire’s techniques and ‘magic’ had all ended up evolving around lust and pleasure. Certainly, just from one short makeout session with her Naga counterpart, the real Toryl looks completely beside herself with arousal. When Harry finally frees her from the Naga’s coil, she doesn’t even try to escape. Rather, she’s happy to makeout with him, all while Sashj’tar’s tail continues to slam deep inside of her cunt.
 
In the end, Toryl seems all too happy to give up on trying to figure this insanity out for now, in exchange for simply getting lost in the pleasure. Something Harry himself is actually in full support of, truth be told.
 
Finally reaching his limit from Sashj’tar’s suctioning mouth and stretching but also clenching throat, Harry grunts, gripping the Tidemistress’ head and yanking her back down to the base of his cock. As her serpentine hair coils and slithers along his hand and arm lovingly, he proceeds to fill her throat and gullet with his seed, pumping a hot thick load right down her esophagus and into her stomach. She chokes and gurgles but manages to hold herself to him far longer than most normal women would be able to. This, Harry discovers, is for good reason.
 
As he pulls back and she pulls back in turn, Sashj’tar’s eyes flutter, and she gives him a happy, cum-coated smile.
 
“Thank you, Massster, for blessing we Naga with gillsss to survive sssssuch a torrent~”
 
Harry snorts at that, shaking his head. He wasn’t sure that was hot it worked. He wasn’t sure that was how ANY of this worked. But he wasn’t about to second guess her. Not right now, not after everything. Rather, at this point… his cock was still rock hard, and he wanted more. More that only Sashj’tar and Toryl could give him in this moment, if he didn’t want to go looking for Bretta and Ashildir to relieve his build up instead.
 
As Harry considers how best to do this, Sashj’tar turns to Toryl and pulls her into another deep kiss, all four arms grappling with the Vrykul woman as she shares some of her sticky, creamy treat from Harry with the new Jarl of Jandvik. If Harry’s suspicions of the Tidemistress’ saliva being an aphrodisiac are correct, then he can only imagine what effect a mixture of said saliva with his cum will have on Toryl. Certainly, the Vrykul woman only moans more and wiggles harder.
 
However, very noticeably… Sashj’tar does NOT wrap her coils back around Toryl, nor does she stuff her tail back into Toryl’s cunt. No, having removed it, the Tidemistress instead lays herself out in such a way that Harry cannot miss her slit right at the base of the Naga’s humanoid torso, just before the sea serpent-like lower half takes over.
 
Said slit is currently agape, breathing in and out and glistening with need in a way that makes it obvious exactly what she wants from him. Harry… does not hesitate. Moving in, he grabs Sashj’tar by her hips as best he can. There’s no legs to spread, no thighs to nestle between… instead, he finds himself laying down across the snake-like lower half of the Naga Tidemistress’ body, effectively doing a plank as he slides his cock right into her hole there where it waits for him.
 
He knows he’s picked well however, when Sashj’tar throws her head back and lets out a loud, hissing cry, cumming on the spot. Her orgasm is so powerful that he actually has to hang on for dear life, clinging to her as her lower body beats against the cave floor. Toryl is almost thrown clear too, but at this point the Vrykul is too far gone, and even as the Tidemistress lets go of her, Jandvik’s new Jarl goes in for the kiss, attacking Sashj’tar’s breasts with her mouth and tongue, latching onto them with her hands.
 
Together, Harry and Toryl almost end up tag teaming Sashj’tar in a way. She moans and hisses in delight, even as she lets out a quiet little laugh.
 
“Here I wasss to teach the new Jarl of Jandvik how to properly worssship our Massster… and it isss me being put through my pacesss instead!”
 
Harry snorts and pistons in and out of Sashj’tar all the harder and faster. She’s the first Naga he’s ever fucked, but even if she’s not what one might consider normal… that’s alright. He’s fucked a lot of abnormal women since coming to Azeroth, hasn’t he? That said, he doesn’t mind it one bit. Which is good, because from the sound of things, Harry is going to be fucking a lot of Naga going forward.
 
His status as a ‘God’ in their eyes might give him enough status to reject most of the lower ranks… but Harry can only imagine how quickly Azshara would turn on him if he didn’t give her a good, hard fucking the next time they met.
 
But then again, maybe not. Maybe his breaking of the haughty Night Elven Queen had been more permanent than he thought. Maybe ten thousand years of edging had taught her some humility, grace, and overall submissiveness. Harry couldn’t say for sure… he wouldn’t know one way or the other until they met again.
 
For now, he focuses on the Naga he has right in front of him, and fucking her tight, drenched, gripping hole through orgasm after orgasm while Toryl continues to attack Sashj’tar’s bust with her mouth, tongue, and hands.
 
That said, when Harry finally cums, Sashj’tar is not so out of it that she lays there insensate, unable to react. When he finally fills the Tidemistress with his seed, she coos in reverence and moans in happiness… and then moves swiftly, reaching out and grabbing Toryl up, pulling her between their bodies the moment Harry’s cock leaves Sashj’tar’s cunt.
 
“Now though… now you sssshall be properly educated in worsssshipping our Master.”
 
Toryl grunts, wiggling for a moment despite her complete inability to escape. Then, slowly, she looks over her shoulder to Harry, seeming to consider him briefly. Despite being a captive, it’s clear to Harry that Toryl is no push over. Rather, there was a reason that Sashj’tar had impersonated her out of everyone in Jandvik to try and get her scheme to work. Toryl was a potential successor for the position of Jarl, and who’s to say just how strong the real Toryl was?
 
And yet, her naked body is flushed with arousal… and in the end, she submits just like every other Vrykul and Valkyra Harry has met. Lifting her hips into the air, Toryl moans and wiggles her hips suggestively at him.
 
“V-Very well. I shall… be what my people need me to be.”
 
It’s very self-sacrificing of her. For all the real Toryl knows, Harry is just some eldritch boogeyman that the Naga Empire worships. She’s receiving an opportunity to keep Jandvik safe… by submitting to him. She doesn’t know anything else, and yet she’s still willing to sacrifice herself in order to appease him and his Naga pet, just to keep her home from being overrun by the Tidemistress’ forces.
 
It’s quite brave of her. Laudable, even. Harry, as he moves in and grabs her by her hips, running his hands over her thicc, toned, massive behind, decides to throw her a bone.
 
“Just so you know, Jarl… I came to your village in the company of the Queens Bretta and Ashildir, both Valkyra. We came with the blessing of Lady Eyir… and I command an army of risen Valkyra even now who obey my every order. This whole thing with the Tidemistress and her Naga… it is only the tip of the spear that I wield.”
 
Toryl’s eyes grow progressively wider with every word he speaks, and she gapes at him for a moment before shuddering.
 
“… You are not lying.”
 
Chuckling, Harry shakes his head.
 
“No, I am not. I’m the Master of Death, darling. Not the Master of Lies.”
 
Before Toryl can say anything else, she suddenly gasps as she’s penetrated by Sashj’tar’s tail once more. This time, however, the impatient Tidemistress has gone for Toryl’s ass, curling her tail around to penetrate the Vrykul woman’s back door while leaving him with more than enough room to still fuck her cunt.
 
“Hmph. Firssst rule… never even THINK about quessstioning our God, Jarl Toryl. He isss infallible!”
 
Toryl just lets out a breathless laugh, followed by a wanton moan as Harry thrusts into her from behind. Together, he and Sashj’tar double team Toryl between them, DPing her right there in the middle of the underwater grotto, taking her there on the cave floor. Well, Sashj’tar is laid out on the cave floor. The Naga Tidemistress is massive and long enough in the fullness of her form to act as something of a bed for Toryl, despite the Vrykul’s own size. Meanwhile, Harry pounds into Toryl with all his might, plunging his mammoth-sized member into her cunt.
 
Much to her joy and satisfaction at that, as she squeals and creams herself again and again upon his cock. Harry fucks her like there’s no tomorrow, and she eagerly and greedily takes his dick, having decided to stop trying to figure out the insanity of what was happening, and just accepting her place in all of this.
 
Right now, Toryl’s place was trapped between the Naga Tidemistress who had originally imprisoned her and who now insisted they were allied with one another, and him. Harry does try to make it a pleasurable experience for the new Jarl at least, bringing her to orgasm after orgasm as his fat cock punches deep into her cunt over and over again.
 
All the while, Sashj’tar is amplifying the experience, the tip of her tail stretching out Toryl’s ass in what is clearly meant to prepare the Vrykul woman for his dick eventually. At the same time, her hands are not idle. While two remain wrapped around Toryl’s body, the other two reach past her, running up and down Harry’s own body reverently, as if she still can’t quite believe he’s real.
 
It must have been quite the shock, setting up her guise as Toryl, preparing to infiltrate and destroy Jandvik from within while pretending to be the Vrykul woman, only to have the God of her Queen and her Empire show up in the flesh, right on her doorstep.
 
Frankly, all things considered, she was handling it very well. Hell, Harry felt like HE was handling it pretty well too, all things considered…
 
With a lustful growl, he pushes the full ramifications of what he’d just found out further out of his mind and focuses solely on the matter at hand. Two more beautiful, if unconventional, women for him to fuck… and fuck them he would, just as thoroughly and as deeply as he did any beauty that ended up in his grasp.
 
-x-X-x-
 
Some hours later, Harry stands tall over both women, the two of them debasing and prostrating themselves in front of him, moaning happily and excitedly. One of Sashj’tar’s hands is wrapped around his cock, while the other three are alternating between her tits, her slit, and Toryl’s body. Meanwhile, Toryl has one of her hands cupping his throbbing ball sack, even as her other hand fingers her creampied cunt.
 
Both of them are tonguing his cockhead vigorously, practically engaging in a three-way French kiss with his bulbous dick tip, until finally he lets out a telltale groan that they both recognize quite vividly, at this point. Pulling back, the Naga Tidemistress and Vrykul Jarl both press their faces together, mouths open and tongues out in anticipation.
 
Harry doesn’t make them wait long. He paints the thirsty sluts’ faces in his cum, coating them both in sticky, hot jizz until finally, at long last, he’s satiated. It certainly took quite a while. Both Toryl and Sashj’tar are coated and filled with his seed in every orifice. Toryl in particular had received the brunt of it, with the Naga Tidemistress insistent that her Jarl ‘ally’ learn how to properly worship and venerate him, the Naga Empire’s one true God.
 
Yeah, that was still something Harry was going to be wrapping his head around for some time to come. For now, however, it had been a… successful round of negotiations, if nothing else. Perhaps it wasn’t the main reason that Harry had come here to Jandvik, but it was certainly profitable, if nothing else.
 
“Massster. I ssshall bring word of your contact to my Queen, if that pleeasssses you…”
 
Looking to Sashj’tar, who is happily scooping his cum up and eating it from the clawed fingers of all four hands, Harry considers that for a moment. He considers swearing her to secrecy, using magic to keep her from sending word of him to Azshara. He even considers killing the Tidemistress outright. But if he did that, he would need to kill every single Naga in the area, wouldn’t he? Otherwise, what would be the point.
 
In the end… Harry nods.
 
“That’s fine, Sashj’tar. Tell Azshara that I’m back. Tell her that she’s to keep her head down until I come for her personally. Am I understood?”
 
Back going ramrod straight, eyes wide, Sashj’tar hisses and nods her head.
 
“Yesss Massster~”
 
“Good.”
 
Then, the Tidemistress looks to Toryl.
 
“In the meantime, I will await your return, Jarl. Once you have sssatisfied your people, come back here and we ssshall meet again to… further our cooperation.”
 
Her glowing eyes rake over Toryl’s form, even as the new Jarl, no longer a prisoner, nevertheless realizes what that means. Toryl shivers, even as Harry’s firm hand digs into Toryl’s ass cheek, ostensibly to support her as they begin making their way out of the underwater grotto. Though, it also has the added effect of allowing her abused holes to leak his cum down her weak, wobbling legs.
 
“… Y-Yes. I will return.”
 
Good. It wouldn’t do for her to try and insult the Tidemistress on their way out of this mess. While Sashj’tar and her Naga forces might have done significant damage to the people of Jandvik, the truth was, they could still slaughter every last Vrykul, if they were predisposed to. Better for Toryl and her new subjects if they kept things… cordial with their Naga neighbors. They could consider it something of the cost of living on the coast, especially on a world where the oceans were ruled by an Empire of sea serpents.
 
As they leave the Tidemistress behind, Harry holds Toryl up with ease, despite her larger size. And because, really, he had nothing to lose at this point, he asks her a question in a pondering tone as they make their way back to the village.
 
“Tell me, Toryl… have you ever heard the name Sigryn before?”

-x-X-x-

If you'd like to read more of my work not seen on this website, check out Hentai-Foundry.com and QuestionableQuesting.com where I have over a thousand stories!

If you'd like to contribute to funding my writing at all, check me out on Patreon.com/Cambrian

Thanks for reading!