Author's Notes:

Ok, you all know who Warcraft and applicable trademarks belong to, and it's not me - I only own the original characters I create.

The following is pure, shameless Yaoi/Slash/Guy-on-guy smut, or at least it's supposed to be anyway.

Unfortunately, the story keeps trying to grow a plot.

Sorry about that.

There will be some mild sub/dom and obviously anal, but no real S/M. Oh, and spankings. Spankings are soo dirty, but despicably hot at the same time.

Chapter 1: The Beginning

"Ja look at da little pale-skinned hooman, sistah?" The female troll's thick black hair was tied back in a thick weave of braids twined with what looked like bird bones. "Bet he make fo' some fine eatin'."

"We gon' eat dis one raw?" the other troll asked conversationally. "Could peel 'im up, put some rice on da meat, like dat . . . dat . . ." She looked over at her apparent sibling, her own thick black hair pulled back at the nape of her neck by a brass clip, tapping her spear thoughtfully on the ground. "What dey call it?"

"Sue-she," the first troll replied, scratching her jaw. "But we ain't got no rice."

Tanson didn't argue the point with them. His fingers were wrapped around the blood-slicked haft of the javelin that pinned his shoulder to the tree behind him. He didn't have the strength to pull it out, and the pain was too great for him to manage any kind of teleportation spell. He clung to it more for support than anything else, because if he let himself sag, the pain would be even worse.

Grady wasn't moving, the older knight's body tangled with those of the two maimed orcs he'd managed to kill before the she-troll's spear had slipped in under one arm and pierced his side through his armpit, probably skewering something vital. Tanson wasn't sure where Hajra was, but he doubted the gnomish rogue or her deft fingers and poisoned knives would be back any time soon.

"We let 'im bleed a little more till he pass out, den we go find some rice," the first troll announced, toying with the gourd at her throat, a hollow rattle echoing through the clearing.

It was probably her totem, a distant part of Tanson thought, strangely disconnected from his imminent death. That meant she was a shaman. He wasn't sure why that was relevant at the moment. In fact, at this point there didn't seem to be anything of any real relevance except for the fact that his shoulder was a solid mass of fiery agony.

"Shouldn't be too long now," the troll shamaness added with a nod. "Look, he startin' to lose it."

The rest of whatever she'd been about to say was interrupted by the triple-bladed glaive that sprouted in her forehead with a spray of blood, her eyes widening to either side of it as she tumbled backward, gourd and hair-bones rattling.

The second troll hefted her spear, her eyes rising to the tree above Tanson's head, and she let out a deep, throaty growl, teeth bared, tusks gleaming in the dim afternoon sun filtering down through the canopy. She reached for one of the javelins at her back with her free hand.

The fire in Tanson's shoulder started to dim. He could feel his eyes sliding shut. He caught a brief glimpse of a big shadow, engaged in a bizarre dance with the she-troll.

The world relinquished its painful grip on him at last.

He came awake to a hand patting his face. The touch was rough, the hand callused. He forced his eyes open.

Silver eyes looked back at him out of a square-jawed face the dusk-purple color of the edge of night, long ears curving back to either side of the head, the dark blue, almost black hair short and slightly uneven. The night elf's eyebrows rose.

"What were you doing in Ashenvale, human?" he asked without preamble.

"My friends-"

"I asked about you." The night elf's tone darkened slightly. "You've got the battle training of a lilly."

"I came to get my friends. We were supposed to rendezvous with our companions in Ironforge," Tanson answered quickly. He glanced over at his shoulder, and that rough hand grasped his jaw, bringing his face back in line with the silver eyes.

"Don't look away from me when I'm talking to you." The tone remained gruff, the piercing silver gaze definitely unfriendly. "You'll be sore for a little while, but Uhuroc healed the real damage."

"Thank you. If-"

"You'll get plenty of opportunities to repay me for saving your life." The night elf let go, tone becoming more casual. "For now, quit talking and rest."

Tanson watched the big night elf stand and walk out, not quite sure what to make of his apparent rescuer or his less-than-amiable attitude. He also found himself wondering what form this repayment the night elf had in mind was supposed to take.

He glanced down.

His own clothes were gone, replaced by a thin, silky robe of something that dithered between dark purple and dark grey. He bared his shoulder. The skin looked slightly bruised, but there was no sign of the gaping hole that javelin should have made, and when he moved his arm experimentally, it was, as the night elf had said, only somewhat sore.

He took a look at his surroundings.

The room itself was seamless as far as he could tell except for the door and the tall, peaked windows opposite them, dark wood seemingly either grown in place, or hollowed out and polished to a dark gleam. The divan he lay on was upholstered in a bruised purple. A set of shelves in one corner held extra linens and blankets. A dim light near the ceiling cast an oddly shadowy silver glow, though that might have been simply an effect of the dark color scheme.

Somewhat apprehensive, Tanson got up and went to the windows, brushing aside the sheer, almost black-purple drapes, and looked out onto a forest canopy lit by silvery moonlight. He could see the boughs shifting beneath the touch of the night-time wind. Something big and winged rose out of that canopy. Tanson stepped back, not sure he wanted anything that large to notice him.

He backed right into something hard and unyielding. Large hands closed around his waist.

"I told you to rest." The night elf's deep voice was gruff once more.

Tanson turned. The broad, powerful chest and chiseled, muscular abdomen that met his gaze were bared, the dusting of dark hair narrowing into a slim trail that led Tanson's eyes down past lean hips to where it flared into a short, thick thatch around a very long, very thick cock over a pair of massive balls, hanging between a pair of powerful thighs. That cock, he realized dimly as he stared, frozen, was only getting bigger and thicker as he watched.

Large fingers curled under his chin and lifted, and he looked up into silver eyes that seemed to glow with a luminance all their own. Tanson opened his mouth to ask what was probably a dumb question under the circumstances, and lips closed on his own, the night elf's tongue snaking inward, exploring. Those big hands slid under the robe he wore, powerful arms with as little give as iron holding him in place.

He tried to pull away, managed to briefly, and fingers tangled in his hair. Those silver eyes burned even brighter.

"Don't fight me," the night elf growled.

Tanson shoved at that broad chest, afraid even despite the fact that he was quickly becoming aroused. "I don't even know your name."

"Grimmourn."

Tanson had barely a heartbeat to breathe, and then that mouth was on his again, fingers at the back of his head preventing any escape, and the hand at his back slid downward, fingers sliding into the cleft of his rump. He tried to arch away from them, but that only brought his body up against Grimmourn's hot skin. A cock that was at least as thick as his wrist, maybe slightly larger in girth, pressed against his belly, grinding against him. He could feel precum oozing onto his skin from the thick bell end. Grimmourn's grip tightened, pinning the human in place. Tanson's struggles were in vain.

A finger rolled over his slot, massaging. He was let up for air long enough for Grimmourn to bring his fingers to his lips, and then the first of those fingers was inside him, probing. With a speed that made his head spin he was thrown onto his belly across the divan, stripped of the thin robe. Stubble rasped over his skin and he gasped as a hot, wet mouth closed over his sphincter, tongue laving the orifice and then pushing inward.

As Grimmourn pulled back, Tanson thought for a bare half a heartbeat that he was going to be released. A big hand came down on his right butt cheek with a loud slap, making him flinch.

"Open up," the night elf growled.

Trembling, and certain now that Grimmourn was intent on seeing this through to its completion, Tanson relaxed the tightly furled bud of his entrance, and then his head was flung back and he was gasping for air, toes curling as that hot, wet tongue invaded him. His attempt to scoot forward across the divan was met with another punishing slap applied directly to his left butt cheek by a callused hand as hard as steel, eliciting a yelp, and then those big hands were clasped over his hips like iron vices.

It was like Grimmourn was pumping liquid fire into his body – it was creeping through every vein, tingling over his skin, fluttering in his muscles, curling in his belly, drenching him in sweat that didn't cool him. He was burning up, and the mouth over his sphincter, the long tongue that massaged and laved his insides - they were only raising the temperature.

"Please," Tanson begged, overwhelmed. "Please, I can't handle this. I-"

His pleading was cut off by another wordless growl and the three hard slaps that came down on his rump, alternating from cheek to cheek, and then a large finger was inserting itself into his saliva-slicked hole, driving inward, caressing his delicate inner muscles.

He felt it hit his prostate and a moan tore itself from his throat.

Grimmourn chuckled behind him. "That's much more attractive," he said huskily.

Tanson wasn't able to argue the point. All he could do was arch and tremble as that finger beat out a rhythm inside his body against that little knobby button that sent electricity shooting through his nerves.

He lay trembling and gasping as it withdrew, only to grunt as it was replaced by two slick fingers, stretching him, working their way inward. He was too drained to fight them. They rubbed against his prostate, and he panted, fingers curling into the upholstery of the divan as they worked him, body quaking, feeling his belly tighten, muscles spasming, instinctively driving himself back onto them as he came closer to completion.

Stars burst behind his eyes, and he came.

He was still trying to get his breath back, drifting down out of a haze of pleasure when he felt the massive head of the huge cock he'd seen just minutes ago settle against his entrance. A large hand cupped his throat just beneath his chin, thumb against the side of his face, turning his head and Grimmourn's mouth closed on his. He felt the heat of the night elf's hard, powerful body against his back.

The pressure at his entrance built as he was slowly stretched wide, and then wider, sweat popping out of his pores, body trembling. He groaned into Grimmmourn's mouth, but he was trapped, unable to escape. His groan turned into a pained cry as that massive phallus entered him, his body stretching to accommodate it, and only just barely so, until he felt as though he was being ripped apart.

The agony seemed to go on forever as he felt the night elf's cock penetrating deeper into him, pause briefly, withdraw just a little, and then drive a little farther inward than before. It was like hot steel, throbbing and unyielding despite the slick fluid that covered it. The head reached his prostate.

Tanson bucked and shook, muscles spasming involuntarily as an unbearable sense of pressure expanded inside his body. Grimmourn refused to relinquish his grip, riding Tanson through all of it, mouth still on his. He drove deeper still, sliding in, the human pinned between his granite-hard body and the divan. It was like he was made of hot steel and stone, unyielding, unrelenting, the thick, broad length of his massive penis a molten, throbbing iron post.

The human mage became distantly aware that hard hips were pressing against his buttocks, grinding into him, and Grimmourn relinquished his mouth at last, giving him a moment to breathe. Big hands glided over his tense body, muscles wound tight as Tanson fought to stretch to accommodate the pressure inside, arms outstretched, fingers curved halfway into claws, even his toes spread, body arched up against Grimmourn's. Callused palms slid over his belly, up to his chest, fingers toying briefly with his nipples. One hand came up to close around his throat, big fingers wrapping easily around it, the other going south, closing around Tanson's rock-hard cock, not stroking, just squeezing briefly before releasing, and then squeezing again. He sensed the brief calm in this sexual storm beginning to draw to a close.

A hot mouth closed around the ridge of his right ear, and he felt Grimmourn's chuckle reverberate through his own body from the night elf's broad chest.

"Five and a half inches." The night elf's tone was smugly amused. "That's really as hard as you get?"

Tanson just gasped for breath, unable to muster any kind of witty response under the circumstances.

Grimmourn's grip on his cock and his throat tightened. His voice was a growl. "Ask me how big I am."

"How . . . big?" Tanson breathed.

The night elf's grip relaxed. "Fourteen inches." The smugness returned. "You'll get used to it."

The hand at his throat slid up to grip his jaw, turning his head, and Grimmourn's mouth took dominion over Tanson's once more as the night elf's massive cock pulled out slightly, and then shoved slowly in again, sending mind-shattering signals through Tanson's entire nervous system. He could feel the shards of himself driven farther apart by each slow stroke, and yet there was an odd tension, as if the farther apart each piece got from the rest, the stronger the bond between those pieces became, until it felt as if he was being pushed and pulled in both directions, an exquisite contradiction written in his flesh that was overheating his brain.

It was as though Grimmourn knew just the right pace, made those energies tremble at just the right frequency to bring Tanson to the verge of completion without letting him go over. He longed for it. He longed to be shattered apart, broken beyond all repair, and at the same time made whole, for the tension to release in one glorious, all-consuming burst that would detonate the universe.

He could endure only a few strokes before he reached down for his own cock, still in Grimmourn's unrelenting grip.

The response was immediate.

The hand that gripped his wrist was painful, wrapping it back around his body as the night elf pulled all the way out of him with a speed that made Tanson cry out in pain. He was shoved down across Grimmourn's thighs hard enough to knock the breath out of him, that huge cock stiff against his belly. A big, steel-hard hand came down on his buttocks, each blow stinging, his penis rubbing against one dark purple thigh, leaving a string of precum.

"You. Don't. Come. Until. I. Make. You." Each snarled word was punctuated by another stinging swat and a responding cry from Tanson's mouth, and was followed by a flurry of more, that slick, oozing, massive penis bobbing against Tanson's belly as he shook beneath the open-handed strikes.

And yet somehow even the spanking was strangely erotic, pleasure screaming along his nerves with the pain, his body willing to accept even this contact between them, harsh and relentless.

The pace slowed, but the blows were even harder. Grimmourn wasn't even breathing hard despite the sweat on his face, and his big hand started to pause between swats, fingers kneading Tanson's soft, now fiery-red buttocks, grazing his loosened hole.

Tanson looked up in time to see Grimmourn bring his fingertips to his face, eyes narrowing as his nostrils flared, drawing in the scent. His powerful arm curled under Tanson's body, lifting him slightly as Grimmourn bent, and Tanson let out short little gasps as that warm tongue flicked once more over his slot, cries turning to a full-throated groan as it plunged into his loosened sphincter. The night elf's whole mouth was hot and wet there between his legs, stubble rasping against his sensitive valley.

He growled again, but to Tanson's ears it sounded different now, as though he were calming down rather than getting angry again, a sensual sound instead of a furious one.

Grimmourn laid him on the floor on his knees and wrapped an arm tightly around his torso, big hand flat against his skin.

Tanson gritted his teeth as that massive penis penetrated him once more, but though it was still painful, it wasn't the burning, splitting agony from before. This time, he turned his head and met Grimmourn's kiss, opening wide.

The arm around his midriff stopped constricting his ribs, gentled, became merely firmly secure.

They began again, and this time, Tanson started meeting Grimmourn's thrusts with his hips, pushing back against him. Grimmourn moaned into his mouth, and started to go faster, massive phallus driving deep into Tanson's body again and again, harder and harder.

The tension mounted in Tanson's body, in his soul. He cried out.

The universe detonated.

Tanson simply lay where he was in Grimmourn's embrace, just breathing, strengthless, utterly limp, feeling as though every bone in his body had melted from the heat. He could feel the wet warmth of the night elf's seed deep in his body, could feel the surprisingly gentle kisses Grimmourn's lips spread across his shoulders and the back of his neck. When their lips met again, it was gentle.

Tanson realized dimly that Grimmourn's shaft was still rock-hard in his body.

The night elf pulled out, shifted Tanson gently onto his back, kissed him, lifted his legs, and a long, slow thrust of his hips drove his cock right back into Tanson's slot as he bent over him, kissing him deeply, and started shattering his world all over again.

Tanson blushed as he looked in the mirror, remembering all too well the scene reflected in it only a half-hour ago, his own green eyes glazed with pleasure, brown hair in disarray, lips parted as he gasped for breath, straddling Grimmourn's thighs, that massive cock buried in him to the hilt. He'd shuddered, trembled as he came, the eye of his penis expanding and contracting, no seed left to bring forth. It was his first time having a dry orgasm. He still wasn't sure he'd liked the sensation.

He lowered his gaze from the ceiling mirror, brushing back hair still wet from his bath, and looked down at his clothing.

There was no easy way to repair the massive, bloodstained hole in his robes and the shirt he'd been wearing underneath.

A big, dark-skinned purple hand ripped them out of his grasp and tossed them to the floor. Tanson looked up, wide-eyed.

Grimmourn held up another diaphanous purple-gray robe, this one with small, dark lapis buttons down the front, a pair of matching pants in his opposite hand.

"Thank you," Tanson said quickly and quietly.

"Kiss me." Grimmourn's tone brooked no disobedience, silver eyes intent.

Tanson complied, craning his head back and standing up on tiptoe to meet the mouth that dipped towards his, layering his lips against the night elf's. Teeth tugged gently at his lower lip, and then he was released. He didn't waste the moment, quickly dressing himself.

The colors weren't his first choice. In fact in his opinion they didn't quite suit him, but they were better than nothing, and the last thing he wanted was to be bent over those big thighs again, getting another dose of one of the first spankings he'd had since he was seven, and the most punishing he'd ever suffered. His bottom was still sore.

Fortunately the silky fabric was light, smooth and soft as cream against his skin, not aggravating the inflamed flesh at all. He had a moment to appreciate it, and then he was bracing himself for another round as Grimmourn lifted him in his big arms without warning and carried him into the next room, setting him down in a tall chair with an intricately carved wooden back of dark wood and a deep cushion the color of dark wine.

Tanson's stomach rumbled as the smell of roast partridge and herbs reached his nose, bracketed by greens. An experimental sniff of the silver goblet yielded the rich bouquet of a dark wine.

Across from him, Grimmourn was already digging in.

After a moment, Tanson began to eat as well.

"You said you were to meet your friends in Ironforge?" Grimmourn asked after several minutes of silence had passed.

"Yes." Tanson hesitated, and then steeled himself. "I'd like to recover Grady's body."

To his surprise, Grimmourn simply nodded. "Finish eating."

Tanson complied.

Grimmourn left him alone for a few brief moments only. Tanson wasn't entirely sure why he didn't use them to escape. Something told him that distance wouldn't save him for very long. Something else told him he'd thoroughly enjoyed the last seven hours of unadulterated sexual pleasure at Grimmourn's hands. One thing was certain – the night elf hadn't left him wanting.

And strangely, the more he surrendered, the more he gave in, the more he enjoyed it, the gentler and more sensual Grimmourn had become.

Maybe he wasn't quite sure this was something he wanted to leave entirely behind.

Grimmourn reappeared in a dark leather harness over a mesh shirt that clung tightly to his lithe, powerful torso, his three-bladed glaive strapped to the small of his back, braces of long, straight-bladed daggers strapped to his black-clad thighs, a long, slightly curving blade at one hip, balanced by a quiver of long arrows on the other, a war bow across his shoulder.

He was sexy and dangerous all at once, every line of his big body trim and graceful.

Tanson stood, and a big hand closed firmly around his wrist, leading him from the dining room, through a sitting room full of more dark furniture, and out onto a great balcony. A shed that Tanson would never even have noticed against the bark of the tree yielded up a big, folded piece of what looked to be dark canvas and a massive, high-canted saddle. Grimmourn set them both down by the railing, reached beneath his leather harness, and pulled out a silver whistle.

A long, shrill, keening note carried into the predawn darkness.

Tanson heard a thunder of wings.

A hippogryph rose out of the darkness, shape outlined against the last light of the sinking moon, huge feathered wings and a stag's horns, powerful claws greater than any eagle's, a horse's strong hindquarters and massive hooves.

The beast clearly knew its business, the final beat of its wings just enough to lift it above the railing, settling gracefully to the smooth, polished dark wood of the balcony in gravity's embrace, folding its wings. Glittering dark eyes regarded both of them.

"This is Rhokos." Grimmourn glanced at Tanson.

Tanson inclined his head slightly. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise." Rhokos lifted one feathered eye ridge in a startlingly humanoid expression, words and mannerism both leaving Tanson with a startled, abashed feeling he was certain was probably reflected embarrassingly on his expression.

"We're going to get the other human's corpse."

Rhokos fluffed his wings. "I was actually thinking of giving him a nibble once he's had a few days to mature, but as you like."

Tanson's horrified expression must have been just as evident as his embarrassment a moment earlier, or the hippogryph's eyes exceptionally keen even in the dimness, because the massive beast trotted a few steps closer. "Don't mistake me, human, I don't eat your kind as a matter of course, but as big as I am, an easy meal is something I have to take advantage of. It's nothing personal."

Tanson kept a respectful silence, because he still wasn't amenable to the idea of someone he'd known being considered a snack, but he didn't want to argue the point.

Grimmourn strapped the saddle into place on Rhokos' back with the quickness and expertise of practice, grabbed Tanson by his hips, and hefted him easily into the saddle, strapping him into a complex set of leather restraints over his waist and thighs before mounting up behind him. Without a word, he wrapped one arm around Tanson, the other reaching forward to tap Rhokos on one shoulder.

With an abrupt jump that left Tanson's stomach behind, they were airborne. Tanson felt the wind rip at him, a startling contrast to the hard warmth of Grimmourn at his back, the night elf's powerful arm somehow doing more to keep him from screaming than the safety harness around his waist.

It was a very near thing, especially when Rhokos rolled over in midair, folded his massive wings, and dove at the dark wall of greenery below. Tanson gasped.

With a snap of openings wings, Rhokos altered their angle, somehow using the speed of their fall to propel them laterally above the forest rather than into the raised branches.

"You can open your eyes now." Grimmourn's tone was amused.

Tanson gingerly opened one eye, and then the other. He blushed after a moment and uncurled from where he'd been pressed against Grimmourn's hard chest.

The first glow of dawn was just beginning to touch the horizon far to the east. Tanson held his silence as Grimmourn unbuckled him and lifted him out of the saddle. The night elf held the human mage in his arms rather than setting him down in the stream bed where Rhokos had landed, carrying him to the bank.

Tanson didn't complain. He didn't have any shoes on, just the wispy garb Grimmourn had given him earlier, and he wasn't looking forward to a cold walk over the moss beneath the trees. Besides, being carried in Grimmourn's arms was actually rather . . . nice.

Rhokos followed them, the hippogryph's sharp gaze meeting Tanson's briefly over Grimmourn's shoulder before returning to the dimness ahead.

"Thank you," Tanson said quietly.

"Kiss me." Grimmourn's tone was a command.

Tanson obeyed, raising his mouth to Grimmourn's.

They found Grady's body still tangled with the other corpses in the thicket, the stench of death thick on the air.

The knight's body looked somehow foreign to Tanson's eyes, as though it belonged to a stranger instead of the man he'd come to respect, a husband and father with a family, as if someone had taken him away and left the corpse of a poor imposter in the living man's place.

Grady had talked about retiring in a few years. Tanson knelt next to his still form. His fingers brushed the battered armor, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach he'd hoped not to feel again.

A large, gentle hand closed around his own and drew it away from Grady's body, and Grimmourn got up, pulling the canvas tarpaulin from where it was lashed behind the saddle. His motions were efficient, and even if they weren't particularly reverent, they weren't overly rough either as he shrouded the body in dark, anonymous folds.

He made as if to lift the body.

"I can carry it from here." Tanson looked into Grimmourn's face, and a pained gasp escaped his throat as a big hand closed around his wrist, squeezing bruisingly hard.

"I am not leaving you." The silver eyes blazed at him, the crushing grip around his wrist not relaxing to merely the firmness of an iron manacle until he nodded compliantly.

"Always wanted to see Stormwind," Rhokos added breezily.

Tanson hesitated, and then twined his fingers with Grimmourn's. The night elf's grip gentled with the affectionate gesture, becoming tender.

Tanson half-closed his eyes, concentrating, and embraced the magic, letting it well up in him, flush through his veins, sweet and light and warming and chilling all at the same time.

He hesitated as he came to a realization, eyes widening.

Fight the magic or try to force it, and it would slip through your fingers at best, kill you at worst. Embrace it, and it was like honey from the stars, smooth and gentle and wonderful, flowing willingly, even eagerly into whatever patterns you gave it.

He suspected in that moment of revelation that Grimmourn was the same. Each time he embraced the night elf male, surrendered willingly to him, the sex was amazing. His still slightly sore butt and his now sore-wrist were plenty to convince him that that relationship had its other extreme as well.

He embraced the magic once more, and the world was swept away by light.

Thankfully most of Goldshire wasn't yet awake to notice their arrival. The earth was cool against Tanson's bare feet, the streets quiet, though he could see a guard down the lane with his back to them.

"Hajra told me what happened."

Tanson jumped, whirling to face the woman who emerged from the shadows of an alley. Grimmourn was regarding her warily, hand resting on the hilt of his sword, though he hadn't drawn it yet.

"Janice." Tanson tried to slow his racing heart.

Her dark eyes met his, her long, raven hair lifting slightly in the breeze, contrasting with her ivory skin. Her gray coat was buttoned against the morning chill, her long, loose, billowing black slacks giving the uneasy impression that she drifted over the earth rather than walked on it. He caught himself looking for her voidwalker.

She folded her arms. "So, Grady's dead." Her eyebrows rose. "Good thing I was prepared. Bring him."

Me'rahd appeared with a soft flutter of rose-colored bat-wings, invisibility dropping from the succubus like a shed cloak, gathering up Grady's body almost tenderly with a strength that belied her slim, curvaceous frame, and turned to follow her mistress.

Tanson almost followed before he recalled his present company, and tucked his hand into Grimmourn's arm.

The night elf's big hand closed gently but securely over Tanson's fingers, and they followed the warlock back into the alley. Me'rahd proceeded to unwrap the shroud. Tanson felt that sick feeling in the pit of his stomach return as the succubus rolled the knight's body over.

"Janice," he murmured. "What are you doing?"

Janice glanced up at him, her arms folded across her breast. "Isn't it obvious? He's dead. I'm fixing that."

Ice snaked down Tanson's spine. "You can't make him undead."

She snorted. "Of course not. I'm a warlock, not a necromancer."

Me'rahd ripped off the knight's codpiece.

"I implanted a soul stone in his right thigh," Janice explained. "I do that with every man I sleep with that I intend to make use of later. Standard procedure."

Me'rahd dug under an armored greave. Something gave with a faint crunch. Color rushed back into Grady's features, brown eyes opening wide as he sat up and gasped for breath. Me'rahd smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek.

The knight scowled, graying brown mustaches bristling. "Get away from me, demon."

"Don't be like that," Me'rahd cooed, grabbing his hands and putting them on her full, perky, round breasts. "Isn't that better?" she asked brightly.

"Is this your doing Janice?" Grady's tone was gruff, but his fingers were gently kneading fel flesh, and he didn't growl when Me'rahd moved up to straddle his hips.

"Of course." Janice shrugged. "Besides - better me than Cheney. He might have put the wrong soul back into your body."

Grady sighed and shook his head as Me'rahd giggled and rolled her heart-shaped bottom over his groin, his expression turning pensive. "You know Janice, I think it might be time for us to retire. I'm almost fifty-three now. Cheney's in his sixties. The Brass Buckles need some new blood."

Janice rolled her eyes as Grady bared one demonic breast and licked the rosy areola. "Fine, but you have to help us find replacements, and you'll still have to come to Ironforge with us to say goodbye and give Cheney the news. He's been waiting for you to say that for years now, you know."

Grady released Me'rahd's left nipple from his mouth. "Sure. I'll want to find out who's taking our places anyway, make sure they live up to the name of the Brass Buckles." He let out a long, slow breath as the succubus reached down between their bodies and Tanson turned away, face heating. Me'rahd let out a soft fluttering noise as the knight entered her.

"So," Tanson said as he waited with Janice at the mouth of the alley, the sounds of pleasure echoing past their ears. "The Brass Buckles are going to have some new members."

Janice nodded. "Grady's right. He needs to get back to his wife and get to know his kids as adults, stop spending so much time out on the road. Cheney will be relieved. I think he's only stayed the last two years out of friendship. I know he's tired."

Tanson bit his lower lip and looked up at Grimmourn, the night elf returning his gaze evenly.

"I-" he began hesitantly.

"I'll allow it." Grimmourn cut him off.

Tanson blinked, startled, and almost said "thank you" before he remembered to cock his head back for a kiss instead, and a small crooked grin crossed the night elf's features as he lowered his mouth to meet the human mage's, big hands coming down to knead Tanson's buttocks through the thin pants and robe.

"Damn, just make me jealous why don't you," Janice muttered.

Tanson had only a moment's warning as Grimmourn lifted him in his arms, and he wrapped his legs around the night elf's lean waist as he was carried back into the alleyway, leaving Janice and Rhokos behind.

"So," Rhokos said casually behind their backs. "You're a warlock."

They didn't go all the way back to where Grady's naked, hairy, muscular body was undulating between Me'rahd's legs, just part way, back from the street, and Grimmourn laid Tanson on his back on top of a convenient crate, pulled down his pants, held his legs up, ankles gripped in his big, powerful hands, and lowered his mouth between Tanson's butt cheeks, mouth hot and wet on his slot.

Tanson's moans joined Me'rahd's and Grady's as he opened up, welcoming the flicking tongue that delved into him once more. It was replaced after a moment by saliva-slicked fingers, working his delicate inner muscles with a close familiarity gained only last night.

Tanson opened his eyes, saw Grimmourn looking down at him with those blazing silver orbs, and convulsed as those fingers reached his prostate once more, dancing over it and around it. He reached for Grimmourn, tried to arch up to him, and the night elf bent, mouth claiming Tanson's, tongue driving inside, swallowing his groans, his other arm curving around Tanson's back to support him.

The fingers withdrew. Tanson groaned as he felt the huge, broad head of Grimmourn's long, thick, colossal cock press against his relaxed hole. His entrance had tightened somewhat in the time since their last fuck, so it was tight, but it wasn't nearly as painful as the first time, and Grimmourn slid slowly into him in one long stroke, making Tanson throw back his head and cry out in mindless ecstasy as all that steel-hard heat rubbed over his prostate, filling and fulfilling him.

Grimmourn pulled almost all the way out, then slid slowly back in again.

Tanson abandoned his sanity and clung to Grimmourn's big body as he was fucked senseless and insensate by the gargantuan rod. Stars ignited in his flesh, threatened to burst with each driving thrust, and finally went supernova, blasting him into purest rapture.

He clung to Grimmourn afterwards, panting, warm wet seed nestled once more deep within his body, still impaled on the night elf's erect penis. It wasn't until Grimmourn pulled out that Tanson realized they had an audience. Local men were standing around the crate, cocks in their hands, jism dribbling over the dirt of the alley.

"Holy Light," one fellow with a black mustache exclaimed. "I can't believe he took all that."

"How much to fuck him next?" asked a blond with a goatee.

"I said this was a peep show only," Janice said irritably as the query was repeated by several other local men. She was standing at the mouth of the alley with a bag in her hands, drawstrings open.

"How much to get fucked?" one man towards the back of the crowd called loudly.

"So, how much would you have charged to fuck him with that thing?" Grady asked quietly ten minutes later as they prepared to teleport to Ironforge.

Grimmourn ignored him, big hands resting proprietarily on Tanson's hips as he looked down at the mage.

"Just asking," the middle-aged knight muttered before magic swept them all away.

Tanson was grateful for Grimmourn's arm around his waist as they walked through the faintly smoky dimness of the caverns of Ironforge. His legs were still slightly unsteady from their union in the alley. He clung to that arm, and it supported him.

Yes, he thought faintly. Just like the magic. Embrace it, embrace him, and they would both support him.

The Brass Buckles met at a tavern that was rather unimaginatively named the Salty Cave Tuber.

Hajra was sitting on a table, carefully cleaning one of her many knives. The carrot-haired gnome glanced up at the sight of them. She was wearing her facepaint again today, Tanson noted absently, three delicately-painted doves in red cavorting across her brow. She'd always liked the look of tattoos, but never actually wanted to get one.

She grinned brightly at the sight of them.

Durog sat on a stool, his thick, braided, ankle-length beard hanging loose over his armor today instead of wrapped around his neck like a muffler. His massive axe, almost as big as he was, leaned against the wall. Cheney sat beside him in a padded chair, the priest's wispy white hair nothing more than a faint cloud over his pale scalp now, his skin hanging from his bones. He shook slightly in his priestly white vestments as he stood, Durog reaching up automatically to stabilize him.

"So . . ." Cheney said slowly, blinking. His chops worked for a moment. "We're all . . . here. Are we . . . ready?"

"Cheney, old friend." Grady stepped forward and laid one gauntleted hand gently on the priest's shoulder. "I think it's time we retired."

"Oh." Cheney blinked, and sat slowly back down. "Oh. Well . . . well then." He worked his chops a few more times, brow crinkling. "Well . . . it'll be good to . . . retire. You know they . . . they keep sending me letters from the abbey. They say it's . . . time to . . . time to . . . retire. They've . . . did you know . . . they've some lovely . . . cottages."

Grady smiled warmly at him. "Yes. It'll be good to retire."

Cheney nodded and patted Grady's hand. "I . . . think so."

They left Cheney in the care of a handful of novitiates at Northshire Abbey, who gently took the elderly priest's arms and led him away down a path, listening with patient expressions to his quavering words.

Grady's wife was sitting on the front porch of their small house in Goldshire when they appeared in the street. Her rocker stopped, and she stood, graying auburn hair pulled back in a bun.

"Come back for a visit?" she called, hands knotting in her apron.

Grady looked up at her for a long moment, and then a smile broke over his face. "No Emmeline. I've come home to stay."

She nodded, and Tanson lowered his gaze as she brushed the back of one hand over her cheek. "Well come on, dinner'll be soon. I'll tell Barney we're going to need him to do up a second rocking chair."

Grady stepped up onto the porch, gave Emmeline a peck on the cheek, and sat down, pulling her into his lap. "I reckon this one's solid enough to do for both of us till he does," he said huskily.

Neither of them looked up from rocking as light bore the remaining Brass Buckles away.

Durog didn't accompany them to Stormwind. He'd said he was starting to get into his adult centuries now at two hundred years, and it was time for him to find a girl and learn a trade like a respectable dwarf.

Tanson pretended not to see Janice crying when he emerged from his bedroom in his house in Darkshire, dressed in new robes of blue and silver. Unlike him, she'd always been a full-time member rather than just a part-time, semi-honorary member, the youngest of the original members in fact, joining when she was just sixteen, lying about her age and saying she was eighteen. With her demonic minions and her fel magic to back her up, no one had gainsaid her.

Tanson himself had always had more of an on-again-off-again membership, mostly providing traveling services and going on every second or third venture.

"You know," Janice said quietly as they walked into Stormwind City "you're going to have to pull more weight. It's just the three of us now."

"We'll find more members," Tanson said soothingly, deliberately making it sound like he'd missed the deeper meaning in her words. She wanted a commitment. He was already thinking of Grimmourn as a higher priority.

After all, ludicrously good sex with a male with the body of a god didn't come along every day, even if he was rather controlling, and Tanson really didn't have that much of a problem with the trade-off.

"I've got the rogue angle covered," Hajra said pointedly, glancing up at them, a pair of bared knives in one hand.

"And we know how much you hate competition," Janice replied with a sigh as they walked down the street. "So that means we just need healing magic and more muscle."

Hajra shrugged, tucking her knives away. "We're close enough to Cathedral square. We might as well start with the healing magic." She pulled a pad of drawing paper out of her pack. "I'll start making the posters."

Janice glanced up at Grimmourn. "Hey, big guy – you in?"

Grimmourn shrugged. "Until I get bored." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Rhokos will join too. You can feed him."

"Yeah, sign me up if the food's good," Rhokos said loudly, drawing stares from a number of passerby.

"Alright Me'rahd," Janice said as they set up in Cathedral Square. "You're on."

Me'rahd shed her invisibility once more, revealing the lacy white lingerie she was wearing as she posed artfully for the paladins and priests passing through.

Ten minutes passed, stretched into fifteen, and eventually drifted into a full half hour without anyone stopping.

"Go try the inns," Grimmourn's words broke the increasingly despondent silence. "Get Rhokos something to eat."

"Where are you going?" Janice's tone was irritable.

"To get the clothes I gave Vhadra so he can flash his ass." Grimmourn's tone was matter-of-fact.

Janice blinked. "I've only studied a little Darnassian, but isn't vhadra the word for-"

"Yeah." Grimmourn's tone darkened, silver eyes flaring. "Move your asses."

Janice shut her mouth, and Me'rahd bit her lower lip, eyes wide as she shrouded herself once more in invisibility. Hajra gathered up her posters, and Rhokos trailed after the two females willingly enough.

Grimmourn pulled Tanson back into his arms.

The night elf watched Tanson disrobe with those silver eyes of his, arms folded across his broad chest as he leaned against the bedroom door.

"What does Vhadra mean?" Tanson asked as he pulled on the silky, almost sheer pants and robe once more.

"It means I've made up my mind." Grimmourn's tone remained dark. He jerked his chin at Tanson's wardrobe. "From now on, I'll pick your clothes."

Tanson glanced up at that, but Grimmourn's handsome face was unreadable. He stepped into the night elf's arms, tilted his head back, and was rewarded with a gentle, deep kiss.

"Take us back to the square," Grimmourn murmured in his ear.

The moment they arrived, he walked Tanson over to a tree, leaned his back against it, and pulled Tanson to him, big hands reaching down the back of those silky, diaphanous trousers and cupping his butt, kissing him slowly and lightly.

Tanson lost all track of time, forgot there was even anything beyond Grimmourn's embrace, his mouth, the hard, hot, thick bar he could feel through the night elf's trouser leg.

"Excuse me." The voice was a low baritone, not as deep as Grimmourn's bass, but deeper than Tanson's.

"You'll have to wait your turn." Grimmourn immediately resumed kissing Tanson, distracting him from turning to see who the newcomer was.

"I didn't actually-"

Grimmourn broke off the kiss once more, and Tanson leaned breathlessly against him. "He's got a gorgeous ass, doesn't he? I saw you looking when we were here earlier."

"I-"

"If you want a piece of it, you'll have to join the Brass Buckles." Grimmourn's tone remained off-hand. "They're looking for muscle and healing magic. I haven't decided whether my Vhadra and I are staying with them yet. Depends on whether they can get it together. Otherwise we go back to Kalimdor."

"Where do I sign up?"

Tanson got a look at the other at last, turning to look over his shoulder, Grimmourn's embrace keeping him locked in place.

He was a human, mithril armor polished and etched sparingly with filigree, a long, broad blade at his hip and a broad kite shield across his back. His dark red hair was cropped short, maybe three quarters of an inch, his face clean-shaven. He was attractive, jaw square, his eyes ice-blue. He wasn't as tall as Grimmourn, but he was substantially taller than Tanson, probably a good four or five inches over six feet.

Those eyes dropped to Tanson's, and he blushed. A smile curved the attractive face, bringing it a long way from austerely striking to truly handsome, and he found himself smiling back.

"What's your name, beautiful?"

"Tanson."

"I'm William, but you can call me Will." Will gestured. "Lead on, beautiful."

"That dark-haired priest . . ."

"He's a coward, and a pervert." Will's response to Grimmourn's inquiry was absent. "He doesn't have the balls to so much as leave the city. So where'd you find this lovely piece?"

Grimmourn chuckled. "Vhadra? He was lost in the woods. I got to him just before a couple of trolls made a meal out of him."

Will let out a low whistle. "You did us all a favor, big guy."

As it turned out, Janice, Hajra, and Me'rahd had had much better luck in the taverns. They found Rhokos lounging outside the Sign of the Fox, tearing strips of meat from a flank of what appeared to be raw beef.

Me'rahd was straddling the lap of a worgen, her back to his chest, his big, furry, clawed hands on her bared breasts, long tongue lapping at her pale skin. A draenei in the vestments of a priestess was watching with interest from where she sat next to Janice. Hajra was cleaning her nails with a knife, glancing up as Tanson entered.

"So you did manage to find us some more muscle." Janice's tone was approving as she rose.

"He sure did," Will said easily. "Will, Paladin of the Light. Are you in charge?"

Janice smirked. "Usually. Welcome to the Brass Buckles."

Will stepped past Tanson and shook Janice's hand, gaze going briefly to Me'rahd, who was making fluttering, cooing noises as one of the worgen's big, clawed fingers reached beneath her tiny g-string. "You sure know how to make a man feel welcome."

"Me'rahd is very talented," Janice said smugly. "Though she's obviously not the type of motivation you prefer."

"I do prefer something a little bit closer to my own plane of existence," Will said with a nod towards Tanson.

"We'll get to know each other first, and then go over the mission tomorrow." Janice smiled indulgently as Me'rahd's skimpy clothing disintegrated beneath clawed hands. The worgen pulled back his kilt, exposing a big, thick cock and Me'rahd squealed in delight as he shifted under her, lifting her by her waist and lowering her onto his shaft, her body accepting it easily. He started to pump his hips.

The innkeeper was just leaning on the bar, expression fervent, features flushed as his arm worked, not even glancing up as Tanson, Grimmourn, and Will walked past him. Grimmourn reached over, grabbed a room key, and led the way upstairs.

"So how big are you?" Will asked as Grimmourn unlocked the door.

"Fourteen inches," Grimmourn said easily.

"Damn, you've got a solid inch on that worgen downstairs then."

"You?"

"Eleven and a half."

"Very impressive for a human." Grimmourn started stripping off his clothes. "Let me into him first. Then you can come in on top."

"I really like kissing during the fuck," Will said as he shed his armor, revealing more dark red hair dusting his broad, muscular shoulders and chest and rippling abdomen, not a hint of fat on his hard, chiseled, slightly hairy body.

"First claim, first choice," Grimmourn said as he pulled the robe off of Tanson's shoulders.

"Figured." Will's tone wasn't resentful, just accepting.

"I'll let you loosen him up though," Grimmourn offered.

Will's face lit up at that, his eyes running appreciatively over Tanson once more. Tanson just looked at both of them, face bright red, trepidation mingling with anticipation.

Will sat down on the bed and beckoned. "C'mere babe."

Glancing sideways at Grimmourn, who nodded, Tanson walked towards Will, and the paladin's big, callused hand pulled him close, until he was standing between his thighs. Deft fingers worked the lapis buttons of his robe, and then Will's mouth was on his belly, hands gently brushing the robe off of Tanson's shoulders, dropping his pants next.

He drew Tanson's mouth down to his, kisses light at first, then deeper, until his tongue slid into Tanson's mouth, and he leaned back, pulling the mage with him, until Tanson was lying on top of his rock-hard, hairy body across the bed.

The paladin's hands slid down to Tanson's buttocks and began to knead, fingers massaging and squeezing the soft flesh, Will's mouth continuing to work his at the same time. The paladin's thumbs delved into Tanson's cleft, pulling his buttocks apart, fingertips brushing his entrance.

Tanson could feel the paladin's growing erection against his belly, a thick, hot bar of steely muscle between them.

"Grind on him Vhadra, let him know you want him in you." Grimmourn's tone was casual.

Tanson complied, undulating his hips against Will's, and the paladin let out a soft growl and rolled over, mouth leaving Tanson's to blaze a hot, wet trail down his throat, over his chest and belly, closing briefly around his penis, then his balls. Callused hands lifted the back of his knees, spreading his legs, and Will let out another, contented growl as he licked and mouthed Tanson's hole.

He started off with one finger, probing gently, penetrating only a little bit at a time. Tanson lifted his head, saw those ice-blue eyes focused on his slot, Will's expression intent. He lifted his gaze.

Grimmourn leaned against the small table a little distance away, long, powerful legs spread, massive erection curving slightly upward, a huge, dark purple log, milky precum beading at its head.

Then Will's finger found his prostate, and Tanson arched with a gasp, head flung back as the paladin tapped that magic button. He heard Will chuckle, looked over his body to see the paladin wearing a smirk of smug, masculine satisfaction. Then he was groaning as a second finger entered him, both of them beating out a rhythmic tattoo against his pleasure nut, bracing himself against the wall and pushing onto Will's fingers.

"Damn," Will muttered. "That's fucking hot." He glanced over his shoulder. "I'm going to make him come."

Grimmourn nodded, arms folded over his chest. "He's good for a few more."

Those fingers become relentless, rubbing in circles, and Tanson cried out, eyes rolling up in his head. A big hand curved behind his neck, supporting it, and he looked dazedly into Will's handsome face.

"Come on beautiful, let me see it," Will muttered. "I wanna see you break."

Tanson broke, shattering on Will's fingers, and lay there on the bed, panting for breath as his muscles contracted and released, distantly aware of the spurts of come landing on his belly. Will rose from where he'd been squatting next to the bed, taking up both of Tanson's legs once more, hands behind the knees, and aligned the head of his big penis with Tanson's still pulsating hole.

Tanson grunted as Will slid in, tunnel forcibly widened yet again as the paladin's manhood penetrated him, driving deeper. It was still uncomfortable at first, but he was better able to accommodate him than he had been with Grimmourn.

"Oh fuck, he fits like a glove!" Will groaned. "Babe, you're so fucking hot, so tight!"

He pulled out, drove in again, closed his mouth on Tanson's and kissed him deeply, managed three more long, deep strokes before Grimmourn's hand closed on his shoulder, and came to a shuddering halt, chest heaving. He gritted his teeth, and slowly withdrew, blue eyes burning as they met Tanson's, jaw set, as though pulling out were causing him physical pain.

Grimmourn took his place, slowly pushing in, and Tanson breathed deep, relaxing. Once again, it was still a tight fit, but not as uncomfortable as before, and he looked up into Grimmourn's blazing silver eyes and met his kiss eagerly, even wantonly.

"He make it easier on you?" Grimmourn asked quietly in his deep voice, slightly hairy chest pressing down on Tanson, stubble rasping on his cheek.

"Yeah," Tanson gasped as he felt Grimmourn continue that long thrust until he was buried to the hilt, sending waves of mind-eradicating pleasure through Tanson's brain.

"It's about to get a lot tighter in there," Grimmourn murmured into his ear. He rolled over, Tanson on top of him.

Will's voice was a rasp. "Are you sure about this? You're huge, and I'm not small. We're probably gonna tear him. I'm not the biggest fan of sloppy seconds, but I don't wanna hurt him."

"You took all of me our first night together, didn't you?" Grimmourn's blazing silver eyes rested on Tanson's face.

"Yes." Tanson couldn't forget, especially since it had been only last night.

"You liked it, didn't you?"

"Yes." Tanson closed his eyes and gasped as Grimmourn shifted in him.

"You want me in you." The words were punctuated by another thrust, eliciting another small noise.

"Yes." The word came out wanton and pleading.

"Tell Will to fuck you."

"Fuck me," Tanson breathed, lost in pleasure, and Grimmourn's hand at the back of his head pulled their mouths together.

He felt one Will's callused hands come to rest on his hip, the other guiding the head of his big cock to where he was already stretched wide around Grimmourn's massive shaft.

"I'll be gentle," Will said softly against Tanson's shoulder, kissing his back, between his shoulderblades, down his spine, and back up to the base of his neck, pressure gradually increasing at Tanson's entrance.

Tanson's head was immobilized by Grimmourn's grip, the gasping cry he made as his sphincter stretched impossibly wider trapped in their joined mouths. The pressure built, not only as Will slid centimeter by centimeter inward at his entrance, but on Grimmourn's cock as well, pressing it harder into him. Tanson was sobbing into Grimmourn's mouth now, but the night elf continued to hold him in place, not relinquishing his mouth.

"You're doing amazing, babe," Will murmured, pressing more kisses against his shoulder and his neck, nibbling on one ear. "I'm already a third of the way in, and you're so amazing. It's so tight and hot and alive. I love it."

Tanson felt the same as he had last night that first time with Grimmourn, every muscle in his body struggling to stretch, to relieve the pressure building inside of him, fingers flexing, stretching and knotting in the sheets only to release and clench again, trying to arch his body to find that narrow alignment of tolerance which would keep him from splitting wide. He was being torn apart, but it was exquisite, Grimmourn's mammoth penis pressing harder and harder on his prostate. He could feel Will's arm snake around his ribs, feel Grimmourn's thumbs rubbing in circles over his hips.

He felt that incredible pressure building inside him until he was shaking with it, too much too bear, then even more. He could feel tears streaking his face.

"I'm . . . in," Will groaned, nuzzling the side of Tanson's throat. "By the Light, I'm all the way in him." His stone-hard chest pressed against Tanson's back. "Oh Babe, you're fucking glorious."

"We'll start slow," Grimmourn said, releasing Tanson at last, deep voice raspy as he spoke over the human mage's full-throated wail. "Follow my lead."

Tanson felt them move in him, and it was soul-bending, as if they were fucking more than just his body. They were fucking the very depth and breadth of his existence, plumbing his spirit, penetrating and titillating the core of his soul.

He came on the second stroke, and both males groaned deeply as his tunnel palpitated around them, pulsating, throbbing. It felt like he climaxed all over again with every other stroke until he lay strengthless and gasping for breath that would not come atop Grimmourn's granite body, tremors physically shaking his body, shudders rocking him. He'd never felt so out of control, and both men were only picking up the pace.

Tanson disintegrated into bottomless pleasure that overwhelmed every cell in his body, every atom of his being.

"I think he's coming around."

Tanson realized dimly that he was still naked. The room was dark now, and he could feel, a big, hard, warm body at his back. He felt once again like every bone in his body was gone, loose and limp and weightless, not a hint of tension anywhere, as if he might break up and drift away on the next breeze.

"Hey, beautiful." Will was utterly naked in the dimness, a faint smile on his features. "Sleeping Beauty wakes at last."

"How long was I out?" Tanson whispered.

"Seven hours," Grimmourn said in his deep voice. "You were worn out."

"I can't believe you didn't tear," Will said, knuckles brushing the side of Tanson's face, expression a mixture of awe, pleasure, and satisfaction. He chuckled. "We had to move you to another room. We kept coming in you, and you were so loose and full it just spilled out onto the sheets."

"We both put out a lot of come when we climax. It was spilling off the bed by the time we were done," Grimmourn added. "We've decided it's a good idea to save the double penetration for special occasions from now on."

"Oh." Tanson just breathed for a few moments, and gradually realized that he couldn't move. His wrist refused to rise more than a few inches from Grimmourn's powerful thigh. "I can't move."

"You're completely exhausted. Your body hasn't recovered yet." Will grinned. "Don't worry, we'll get you some food, and then you can go back to sleep."

Tanson passed out as Grimmourn was carrying him down the stairs.

He came to as a thick, massive penis penetrated him, somehow still sending rapturous pleasure through his sapped veins.

"You're going to fuck him and feed him at the same time?" Janice's voice was dry.

"You said yourself that nothing else was working." Grimmourn's voice was a deep rumble against Tanson's ear. He opened his eyes, let out a deep moan as the night elf's cock slid over his prostate, and a spoon full of soup was placed in his open mouth. It wasn't until after he swallowed that he became aware that they were sitting in the inn's common room, surrounded by staring patrons.

The stares didn't stop him from coming halfway through the meal, but his orgasm was practically dry anyway. Will was granted permission to carry him back up to their room, and Tanson fell back asleep on the first step.