weasyl.com · 2371891:9025729

Summary: There is a holding peace between the Alliance and Horde, and yet Alliance dignitaries are missing in Horde lands. Sent under cover to investigate, the Worgen hunter Lucille runs into the true culprits, and sees just how twisted their purpose is.

A commission requested by Homedog

Word Count:  12789

If you like this piece, check out my Subscribestar or Patreon! Either platform offers early access to finished drafts both commissioned and of my own inspiration and ongoing projects as well as a selection of perks to interface with me and maybe have influence on my future content. Any interest and support is much appreciated.  (Please note that some works cannot be uploaded to Patreon. As such to access the full extent of my library via Patreon you will need to join the discord server found within either platform!)

----------------

The worgen woman Lucille let out a relieved sigh as her paws stepped onto solid wood that didn’t sway around with each shift of the waves. So this was Ratchet, it was simple for a goblin town, the small port settlement was not half as grand as she expected, having visited several other goblin towns in her time.

She let out a sharp whistle, a heavy pawed rhythm following her as her tamed and loyal pet caught up and stayed in her shadow.

“I wonder if you even remember this place, Tussle.” Lucille said with affection, crouching to stroke down the lioness’ back. “It was near here that we met, after all.”

The lioness looked around then yawned and stretched, pushing into the attentive hand.

“Heh, well, let’s get to the inn. There’s a nice bed waiting for us, one that won’t swing about on a moment’s notice.”

The worgen had turned in early, evening light still lingering in the skies as she reviewed the maps and prepared her equipment. It had been over a year since the forces of the Alliance and Horde had lowered their tensions and called a truce, though in these lands, closer to the contested borders, she still felt judgemental eyes, even in the town.

In those eyes she searched for suspicion. Her mission had been given in secrecy, to scout out and search for hints pertaining to the disappearance of several Alliance guards and a night elf of interest.  They had vanished from the borders and so it was there that Lucille was to investigate. To lay low and find out if she could figure out the truth behind the matter.  If it was the Horde’s working, the peace would become all the more tenuous.

After claiming a few hours of sleep she woke, leaving the settlement in the dead of night. She moved into the wilderness, to tend to her mission.

From Ratchet, she avoided all settlements and camps, taking the least remarkable path she could find, heading far west before turning toward the northern end of The Barrens. The journey took her days but afforded her time to make sure she wasn’t being followed. If she was to catch those responsible, no one could know she was close.

It was there that she found a most suspicious site. One that was too clean, not even creatures had disturbed the dusty ground in a while. Between the worgen’s keen senses and that of her pet it wasn’t long before they found hints. Splintered wood, scored pieces of metal, they’d been collected and hidden together.

An emblem stood out on one piece of wood, cleaved down the centre. It caught Lucille’s attention. It wasn’t the horde, it was the Grimtotem! Before she finished the thought a loud bellowing roar confirmed it. A black furred bovine leapt from a ridge, his roar met by that of Tussle. The lioness ran to intercept the tauren, only for sand coloured scales to burrow from below the ground and hiss defiantly in the face of the feline.

Lucille managed to draw her broadsword in time to catch the blade of the tauren’s axe. Yet the sheer force of the blow, all the momentum of the leap behind it, sent her staggering back. She let the sword drop, hurrying to her bow.

Another black furred form was already there, a tauren woman who had kicked Lucille’s quiver wide, scattering the arrows everywhere. She was unarmed but her physique and stance showed that she was still up for a fight, smiling arrogantly.

Angry hisses and pained yowls echoed as the lioness and snake fought behind her.

Lucille’s teeth pulled back in a snarl as she leapt forward to strike the figure in front of her. The tauren was ready, catching Lucille’s claws with a heavy leather bracer and punching back in response.

The worgen’s own armour served to protect her, despite the bludgeoning force behind those strong fists. Both women swung at each other, proving a near even match despite their differences in speed and strength.

The tauren’s eyes flickered in surprised panic, the blood lust in Lucille's own catching and capitalising. Clawed hands met the thick three-fingered palms of her opponent, the tauren’s arm’s yielding for a bit, before that panic turned to smug confidence. Her strength redoubled, all a feint to bait the worgen woman, before a heavy strike slammed on the top of Lucille’s helm. The other tauren! The haft of his axe stunned Lucille, dropping her to her knees.

Thick thumbs pressed beside her head wrenching the helmet loose before the hand grabbed the back of her head and slammed her into the ground.

Dazed as she was, she struggled to let out another whistle, to summon Tussle back to her side. Instead she was rolled onto her back, before another swinging fist turned out the lights.

Lucille’s throbbing head woke her, distracting her at first from the uneven feeling on her furred skin.

The tauren woman shouted something in her native tongue before lapsing into Orcish, a more common language of the Horde and one that Lucille knew. “Finally awake, pup? Don’t see many of your kind out here. We must have really upset someone.” She said with a chuckle.

The worgen tried to move and stand, yet she couldn’t. Her arms and legs were stuck, pushed together, stretched out. Her neck even struggled to see exactly what and why, feeling compressed and unable to bend. A heavy hand grabbed her between the ears and twisted to tilt her head for her, putting pressure on her throat, choking her.

Tanned, thick canvas had been tugged firmly around her body, before the wrapped layer had been swaddled with a stiflingly absurd amount of rope. Criss crossing in a wild and chaotic tangle, no artistry present or even needed, after all with how tight and hastily it had been drawn, the weakened worgen wouldn’t be fighting loose.

The tightness at her neck was the only neat part, a sturdy collar built out of multiple loops of the rope which tightly bound more of the canvas over Lucille’s snout, keeping her from speech.

While the tangle itself was far from orderly, the volume of rope compensated. Considering also that each round of it had been pulled as tightly as their prodigious strengths allowed, Lucille could feel the pressure from all angles, gaining only light reprieves where the folded cloth canvas sat uncovered, which itself prevented her from bringing her claws out onto the ropes or her fingers to try to loosen the twisted knots.

Wild eyed, the hunter looked around. Her bow had been snapped and now lay in a pile with her armour and the shredded remnants of her clothing. “Mmh-mhhhmhgh!” She growled, trying to fight despite the obvious futility.

“Recognise what you’re in? Probably not. Those are tauren burial wraps.” The tauren woman said, running a finger down the front of Lucille’s body. “Of course we usually use them on those who have already departed from this world. Hence why we had to tie them onto you.”

The implication in the words sent a tremor of fear down Lucille’s back, made worse when she saw the motions of the other tauren, digging a hole in the dirt.

“A good way to deal with an annoying Alliance snoop, don’t you agree?” She asked rhetorically.

“Mmmh! Nhhh!!!” Lucille yelped.

“Haha, it was worth saying that just for your reaction. I suppose ‘burial’ is a poor term, something you’d know if you had learned much about us, but then, why would an Alliance servant care about our customs?” She said with a cruel chuckle. “Come here looking for your missing friends, I take it? Don’t worry, you’ll find out first hand what we do with them, but before we go, we need to lighten the load.”

The worgen felt herself lifted, her upper half propped against the tauren from behind. Soft pressure tucked to either side of her head, the grimtotem woman had stripped, too! “That’s why I’m glad you’re up, it’s going to be quite the show.” She said, her legs rising to brace Lucille’s body between them. Her hands squashed against the worgen’s cheeks, twisting her to look in a particular direction. Lucille’s stomach lurched, there on the ground lay Tussle, twitching weakly, a spot of crimson had dried into the lioness’ fur from where the snake had bit her, with more signs of combat damage clear.

“First, as a fellow huntress, I thought it best if our pets gave a metaphorical demonstration.” She twisted her head up, giving another bark in her native tongue. The other tauren looked around but then went back to digging. The snake meanwhile, slithered out into view.

Lucille squirmed anew as it took its time, playing slowly, body flicking in around the envenomed lioness. The worgen could see the twitches for what they were, not spasm but cogent attempts at motion. Scales slid over each other, scooping underneath the feline, lifting just to feed more of its body underneath.

There was a sudden squeeze, marking an attempted growl from Tussle. The tauren made sure to brace Lucille, ensuring she could see, her arm moving to lock around the worgen’s neck as she leaned in, eyes glittering at the performance.

The coils squashed and squeezed, kneading the defeated lion at the least and crushing the air until the body creaked. Lucille watched as the lion she’d raised, bonded with and survived adventures on all continents beside was overcome. “He does so enjoy the taste of lion.” The tauren taunted as the snake’s jaw unhinged. The tauren stood, grabbing the bundled worgen and dragging her around making sure she got a good view. By the time they’d rounded it Lucille could already see the sickening sight of the snake’s neck being stretched out to cover the lioness’ legs.

Her captor sat down again but this time rather than her arms, it was her legs that held Lucille’s head. Heavy thighs crossed under her chin, hands playing with the wolf-like ears as she focused on the two animals. Another sickening revelation struck the poor hunter, she felt a dampness spreading behind her head. The naked tauren was enjoying the show.

The scaled body filled out with the creature inside it. Lucille couldn’t tell from this range if it had had the mercy to finish the job, or if it was swallowing Tussle alive but paralysed. The vile grimtotem woman was breathing heavily, practically panting in response.

The snake’s coils loosened and unfurled as it fed more of the lioness into itself. The  tauren waited, impatiently from how it felt to Lucille, actively rubbing herself along the back of the worgen’s head.

Another bark in Taurahe set the snake’s coils dropping out of sight and its head turning, mouth stretched over the head of the lioness, framing it and slowly sucking it in.

Lucille herself was assailed then, her emotions were wrought enough by the pathetic final sight, before the tauren’s thighs really began to squeeze around her neck and front. The sturdy ropes served to protect her from the sheer power of what could well have crushed her neck beyond repair. “Remember this sight, dog. The last time you’ll see any of your pets again, and the last time anyone on Azeroth will see that lion.”

The snake had even drifted closer, almost within reach.

Her taunting grappler paused her choking for just a second to lift one of her broad, thick hooves forward, laying it on the lioness’ nose and pushing as the snake swallowed the last visible glance of Tussle’s body.

“Mmmhh! MMMMMMHHH!” A frantic, furious surge tore through Lucille, yet still the wraps and ropes held her. The tauren merely laughed, turning to the bull tauren nearby.

“He’ll want to sleep that off. Be sure to bury the bones deep with the rest of her belongings.” She said, grunting with effort as her thighs returned to choking the breath and with it the fight from Lucille.

“Yes, Muranda.” The tauren said, finally giving a name to Lucille’s tormentor.

The world closed in, Lucille’s body craved air which was denied to her all while the snake slid closer to its master, pressing the bulging mass of the lioness over the trussed up worgen.

More darkness followed, this stretch filled with twisting horrors in her dreams. Lucille shook awake, feeling a rhythmic swaying under her. At first, she thought it was the ship again. Yet that was days ago and a sight over her head removed any doubt that she had been dreaming up any of the recent events.

Her arms were no longer at her sides, legs not lashed together, but worse. The former had been bent tightly together, straps holding each wrist to one side of her neck with minimal room between her shoulder and forearm, while another strap tugged painfully over the elbows, spreading them apart. Her legs were bent back, straight out and spread eagled.

Lucille’s view of the sky was blotted by Muranda’s snout and bouncing chest. While loose parts of Muranda’s accessories, carved bone and wood, clacked against her shoulders and torso, from the hips down the tauren was decidedly undressed, with her nethers resting above Lucille’s belly, which was itself strapped up in something new and thick. “Waking up, are you, little spy? Don’t try to hide it now, your nightmare plagued grunts are so much different than those groans you’re making now.”

There was a deep grunt from the other direction, behind and below. Another few words in Taurahe were shouted as Muranda called to the kodo beast that served as her mount.

“I wasn’t sure how it would go at first but it turns out this suits a worgen of  your build even better than a night elf. It’s like it was just made for you! You’re thick enough to round out each strap without being too rounded.”

She slapped the thick leather with her hand. “I’ve been waiting for you. I’m getting sorely needy and there’s no point to having a living saddle if it doesn’t keep me company.”

“Lighhn-hgh…” Lucille growled and groaned, revealing a strap that was lodged between her teeth, cleaving her lips and holding a thick wad of cloth in.

“Living saddle.” Muranda repeated with a smirk. The weighty tauren was obviously quite comfortable yet the worgen was anything but. “It’s a long way out of The Barrens, particularly if it’s important I be undetected but fortunately others of my tribe have come this way, that should have warded off everyone who might get in the way and save it being an arduous odyssey. Still, I’ve been dying to see where else you fit better than some elf.” The last part was said in a way that made Lucille’s toes curl.

Her hands shifted, body trying to sway, Muranda even lifted her hips to stand in the stirrups, taking her weight off Lucille. The worgen could still barely move, even without the pressure.

“You don’t have a choice in this, you know.” She said with a chuckle. “Struggling will only make those limbs ache more.”

The tauren shifted herself up, one hoof stepping onto a sturdy strap further up than might be expected. “Mmh, phhhfmn hhnn!” Lucille growled, face twisting as she gave her all to fight. Her eyes opened with a hateful glare that turned to shock as she saw the light more blocked than before.

Muranda’s waist hovered directly above her face. The tauren woman leant forward to grab some handles while the kodo plodded on unmindful of the changes. Lucille’s eyes grew wider as the tauren brought her privates down, closer, feeling the puff of each one of the worgen’s breaths.

“Mmmh, are you trying to get me excited?” She asked with a chuckle. “Down we go!”

As she pronounced it, she bent her knees, pushing her lips against Lucille’s snout.

“Mmmh! Mh-mhhhn!!! Nhhhhh!” Lucille groaned in panic and denial.

“Oh you must be.” Muranda confirmed, huffing herself as the vibrations of the worgen teased her more. Her legs and one hand held her weight carefully while her other hand slipped in, rubbing her folds lewdly, exciting herself all the more.

The scent hit Lucille, there was no way to avoid it, after all. Liquids pooled and dripped, caught by the cloth in her lips, further hinting its purpose, not just to gag her but to trap the lingering ‘presence’ of her captor. Muranda let out a lowing growl, her jaw wide as she moaned herself.

Her hand grabbed a hold of Lucille’s snout, rubbing the liquid into it before it went back to her lips, spreading her labia wide. With the cruellest of grins on her face, she dipped down the last inch.

Lucille felt the tight, yet soft walls spreading over her nose and even reaching the bottom of her chin, the tauren was using her snout for pleasure! Worse the more noises she made, the more the foul monster seemed to enjoy herself. Still, rage and fright mixed into a howl of displeasure as Lucille tried to spit, having to suck air through the sides of her mouth as her nose was flooded.

“Moouh, be careful making it too fun for me!” Muranda shouted above her own groans of pleasure. “If you slip all the way in, I’m not gonna stop you from suffocating.”

In a rational space, there was no way Lucille would have taken it for more than a taunt, but in this insane situation her eyes widened as she considered the raw possibility. What if the tauren slipped all the way over her mouth, or her head?!

“Hahh, hhaaah! T-tell you what!” Muranda began with a tease. “If you get me to cum, I’ll get off for a bit. If you don't, I'll keep pressing down further. Better start squirming and growling loud for me, saddle!”

Lucille was trapped with no reprieve in sight, having to very possibly trade her life just to give the cow-like woman pleasure. “Nnnngh! Ghhhgh hhhhghh!” She spat as more of the juices soaked the outside of her muzzle as well as gathering in the cloth. The ribbed walls rubbed up and down her, sliding over, occupying all her senses as the tauren’s thick digit returned to play with the delicate nub to help bring herself to a crashing orgasm.

“F-f-f-fuck me, that’s far better than a night elf or human.” She groaned as she gave in, letting every drop of her joy spill forth, squeezing down, riding the most she could while below her the worgen growled and spat in hate.

It was moments later when she finally came down from the pleasure that, with shaking legs, she retreated to the rear stirrups and sat back hard on the saddle, another clattering accompanying her fall. “Earthmother, that was incredible. You’re lucky I have other plans for you or I might have to design a saddle that would fit you permanently. Perhaps if your kind ever tracks you down, or if I get my hands on one of those new Vulpera creatures. They’re even more portable…” She mused to herself.

“Well, saddle, I’m sure I’ll be horny again in an hour or so, make sure you drink up my gift.” Muranda said before leaning back, hands fishing in a pouch to the side. She poured a measure of a water skin down her own throat before splashing some into the cloth around Lucille’s face, doing nothing for the wetness that matted her fur on the outside. “Until then, let’s give you something to look forward to!”

After which she slung a leather bag over Lucille’s head, tightening it so it had enough space for air without slipping off, ensuring that the worgen would have to simmer in her scent until she felt it was time for a second round. Her eyes turned back to the horizon, it would be quite some time before she made it back to the village but she’d find somewhere to rest her steed on the way.

If Lucille wasn’t exhausted by the original capture, the ride made sure she was.  Muranda wanted to keep her