Commission 178 (Patreon)

Image Story (Written by Commissioner)

Furon yielded a sore groan, rubbing his forehead. His most recent memories suddenly playing on fast forward. The tauren had intended to give assistance to the on-going war effort in the Broken Isles, hoping that his sword could join hundreds of others aimed at the Legion. Instead, the bumbling male found himself thoroughly lost in an unfamiliar land of immense mountains and yellowed fields. Shortly after this, just as he was getting his bearings, he felt an immense jolt run through his body from horn to hoof! Only in hindsight, did Furon realise he had stepped on a rune of some description. His last conscious memory was being kicked onto his back, and feeling a heavy boot pressed hard against his armoured chest! He recalled seeing an extremely large human, and some form of dragon, leering down at him. Through several layers of leather and chainmail, Furon only recognised her to be female, but as his mind’s eye began to close, he swore he saw the eyes beneath her helm dart towards his lower body...

The tauren blinked several times, his new surroundings coming into focus. He was indoors, surrounded by wooden walls and... extremely large furniture. Though he was a tauren, Furon was already quite small, standing at a ‘measly’ six foot compared to the usual ten. For a moment, he wondered if the furnishings were tauren sized, but, no, they were larger than that! The tauren swiftly sat upright, finding himself in a crude bed of some kind. Glancing down at himself, he realised he was quite unarmed! His sword was gone, and his armour absent! The only thing he wore was a simple pair of shorts, which were, as usual, demonstrating a rather significant ‘package’, even by tauren standards! Evidently, whatever inches Furon was missing in height, had gone somewhere else entirely.

Furon started to speed walk towards the door, he could hear the wind outside, maybe if he could find out where he was-- His train of thought was derailed as the doorway become blocked. “Well well, it seems my new plaything has woken up. About time.” came a gruff, but clearly female voice from the imposing figure. The tauren gulped as she stepped into the light emitting from the hearth. He recognised her as a vrykul, but her voice didn’t carry the chill he had heard before, perhaps an offshoot, similar to the taunka to the tauren?

As she stepped into the room, the vrykul began to unclasp the thick fur cloak from her shoulders. “Be thankful, little one. I was about to feed you to my drake.” she said bluntly. Furon raised a brow, the subtle meanings being lost on the (usually) innocent tauren. Tossing her cloak aside, the vrykul began to unclasp her mud-soaked boots, then her greaves, and her chainmail vest. Piece by piece, she began to expose hard, tanned muscle and skin. She vaguely reminded Furon of a female tauren, only... taller. And minus the fur. And the horns. And... he wasn’t sure how he arrived to that comparison. Furon coughed, “Y-Yes, I am very thankful for... not becoming a drake’s supper, but I really must be-” he trails off with a quiet yelp, as the vrykul stares at the tauren beneath her helmet. “I do not recall saying you could speak” she said, to which Furon frowns, folding his arms. “What do you want from me then?” he asks. But Furon’s eyes widen, as the vrykul doesn’t stop her undressing at the clothes beneath her armour.

Without much flair or suave, she simply begins to pry off her leggings, quickly exposing a thick, powerful set of limbs! Furon was fairly sure she could have crushed his skull between her thighs. The tauren’s snout turns a faint pink as her nethers are exposed just as quickly, revealing a pink set of outer petals, already glistening from clear need. He was surprised to see she was very neatly trimmed below the waist, but he didn’t have much time to say anything more than “H-Hey wait a moment..!” as she repeated the process on her tunic. Furon’s hooves seemed to be cemented to the wooden floor, his jaw going slack as the vrykul swiftly tore off the vest and shirt (He decided against pointing out the torn fabrics) revealing a simply immense bosom! Each tit was clearly larger in circumference than his own head! And like her lower body, her upper body was equally hardened and clearly honed, her abs clearly defined and shaped. She didn’t seem to both throwing off anything else, retaining her gloves, helm, and pauldrons, before suddenly taking large steps into the room.

“I have no need for teasing or foreplay, little thing” she says simply, reaching forward to poke him hard in the ribs. Furon took a step back, wincing slightly. Not just at the poke, but at the rapidly increasing strain between his loins and his shorts, heat rapidly flooding his genitals, his girth thickening and extending at the sight of such a strong, yet obscenely curvaceous, woman! Sensing his hesitance, the vrykul grunted, suddenly lunging at the short bull! Furon yelped painfully as his back embraces the floor, and as the gigantic female straddled him, her back to his face. The tauren tilted his head down enough to watch her muscular back and generous rear hills, though he quickly yelps in protest, as he feels her hands gripping at his shorts. “Out you get!” she snaps, and Furon winces as the strong hands split his shorts apart as easily as tissue paper!

Furon’s blush reddens further, as he felt the warm air of the fire glaze across his hefty loins, which were finally allowed to spill free of their prison of fabric. He strived to ignore how his heavy, hoofball sized testes rested and pressed against his thighs, and how his immense girth gently throbbed in eagerness! Done swelling, it starts to visibly harden, steadily rising upward of it’s own accord whilst the vrykul finished discarding his shorts. He winced painfully as she adjusted her immense weight right on top of his abdomen, followed by a soft gasp as he felt one of her gloved hands begin to explore his genitals. Even a hand as large as her own struggled to embrace either his calf-batter tanks or his breeding log, but the hand remained eager and wanting, continuing to rub, caress and weigh the tauren’s loins with surprising skill and, dare he say it, gentleness?

To his surprise, Furon hears a horny purr emitting from the woman toying with his loins. “Hm. Perhaps ‘little thing’ isn’t an appropriate title for you.” she muses, briefly looking over her shoulder to grin at Furon beneath her helm, but Furon simply yields a quiet whine in protest, clenching his fists as each distinct THROB of his cock threatened to rob him of his senses.

As Furon began to reign in his own desires, he spotted the vrykul leaning forward to reach something on a nearby shelf. He tries to sit up, but her weight is too much for the small bull! He growls in annoyance, starting to go over a potential escape plan in his mind. The vrykul’s hand seems to leave his testicles alone for a moment, as she removes her gloves and begins to fiddle with something in front of her. There’s a soft ‘pop’ of a lid, causing Furon to raise a brow in curiosity as he still struggles in vain to see past the vrykul’s broad back. His curiosity is soon sated, however, as he feels her hand return to his loins, this time lathering a thick layer of some sort of gel across his shaft! Furon yelps, the cool substance catching him by surprise on such a delicate organ! The flesh-coloured pillar rapidly stiffening to the point of being completely vertical without any support needed! But just as Furon suspects the vrykul is done lubricating his member, he shivers as she begins applying a second layer of the unknown substance to his dick! “Two doses ought to do, for two hours” she says simply. Wait, who measures lubrication in doses?

Suddenly Furon lets out an alarmed yelp. Just as the vrykul puts the jar aside, his cock yields a hard THROB! Intense as it is, the small tauren’s spine tingles, a sudden pressure starting to gather in the root of his cock! But as quickly as it began to pass, the sensation returned, making him grunt again! This time, his tip spurting out a generous blob of pre-cum! “It’s amazing how susceptible to simple alchemy men can be” the vrykul comments, suddenly standing up from Furon’s abdomen at last. For a moment, he’s relieved at being able to breathe properly again, but he’s quickly reminded of his predicament as his cock yields another hearty throb. For the moment, the vrykul simply folds her arms beneath her bosom, making the breasts press together as she grins down at him. “What? You’ve never used a breeding lotion before?” she says with a snarky chortle, watching Furon squirm on the floorboards. Hesitantly, the tauren looks to his member, and has to stuff a fist in his mouth to prevent a sharp cry of fear. His cock was shockingly hard by now, the veins thicker than he had ever seen them! He felt so sure that his cock would merely burst from the blood coursing through it, the tip now constantly drooling a stream of pre-cum, starting to make a mess atop his own testes.

He tried to bring himself to speak, but all he managed was a feeble whimper, he just felt... so... -hard-! So -strained-! But, it was never painful. The vrykul chortles a second time, evidently getting a good kick of seeing one so small get overwhelmed by a set of his own oversized loins. The amusement soon ended however, as the Vrykul stepped over Furon, one foot planted either side of his waist. For a moment, Furon assumed she was going to lower herself down. But to his surprise, she clasped her immense hands around his waist! “Hup, two, three!” she says with only the mildest of grunts, her biceps barely flexing as she lifts the tiny tauren off the ground. Furon feebly struggles for a moment, his own hands trying to dislodge her grip, but he may as well have been trying to pry apart Deathwing’s talons!

So busy as he was with trying to free himself, the tauren momentarily forgot his ‘purpose’. He yields a sharp gasp, as his all too sensitive cock-head began to probe at the presented outer petals. Lifting the tauren between her legs had forced the vrkul to adjust her stance somewhat, spreading her immense thighs further apart. From behind her helm, she continued to grin down at him. “Like I said, tauren. You’re my newest plaything. It’s been -months- since I’ve had a good fuck, but I detest the attitude of the male vrykul. They do nothing but brag about their skill in the sheets and the size of their ‘swords’, then feebly make an attempt at fucking me. Too much hassle. Too annoying. But you...” she chortled again, pulling Furon in closer, and therein starting to use his cock to force her outer petals to part, making the tauren gasp. “You’re perfect. Small, meek, timid. But! Far more endowed than any man I’ve been with! And to top it off, you’re not even a vrykul, which means no brats swelling up in my womb! The ancients have smiled on me this day!”

“Sheesh, you’re not even going to treat me to dinner first?” is what Furon wanted to say, it’s probably what the male character in one of those romance novels would have said. But instead, all he can manage is a sudden, high-pitched howl at the ceiling, as the vrykul forces him to penetrate her! His all too needy and sensitive cock-head is immediately engulfed into the greedy cunt of the vrykul. The part of him that was still self-aware was silently impressed with how little difficulty she managed to take him. The vrykul paused for a moment, yielding a horny groan, closing her eyes for a moment. “Oh yes... s-so thick! And we’re only getting started!”

She pulled him in deeper, deeper, deeper still! Inch after inch of oversized tauren dick being plunged into the insatiable vrykul. Furon, to his dismay, finds his arms and legs going limp. Whatever alchemy product was used on his member, it had certainly done a good job at enhancing the sensitivity of his cock! The tauren whines and pines feebly, feeling rather helpless as the vrykul used him as little more than a living fucktoy. To his annoyance, he felt the pressure in his pelvis build, he couldn’t even stop himself from reaching a climax? But his cock was only half-way inside! The vrykul continues her work, steadily pulling Furon in a few inches at a time, pausing to adjust, then resuming. “Ready to hilt, fucktoy?” she manages to grunt. Furon shakes his head, but it clearly wasn’t a question.

With a heavier grunt than before, the vrykul tugs Furon in as close as she can manage, her legs spread far apart to accommodate the tauren between them. “F-Fuck!” the pair exclaim in sync, as Furon’s fattened balls bump against the heavy, muscular ass of the vrykul, a distinct squelch of lube and pre indicating that hilting had been achieved. Furon huffs and puffs, managing to look down at the insertion. “Nrf! J-Just as expected, you best most of the men I have been with, and they’re thrice your height, easily! What did they feed you back home?!” Her clit was firmly pressed against his lower abdomen, and Furon shuddered as pre and lube began to soak the base surrounding his shaft. But before he could speak or do much of anything, he feels his balls suddenly grow tense!

Furon whines, suddenly squirming in the vrykul’s grip. He expected her to scold him for cumming so quickly, which would no doubt lead to him growing soft. But, instead, she simply chuckles. “What’s the matter, fucktoy? Are you cumming already?” Furon nods rapidly, already feeling hot, thick cum surge up his member! “Ah well, I had taken you for such an easy quick shot” she says... nonchalantly. For a moment, the tauren is caught off by the unexpected response. But he’s quickly reduced back to a quivering mess as his climax arrives. Furon tilts his head back, yielding a heated howl at the ceiling as his all-too-sensitive cock begins to erupt at last! Even deep within the vrykul, hilted in as far as he can go, the tauren’s ears pick up the unmistakable sounds of (attempted) breeding, a repetitive sound of cum flowing from a member. ‘Splack... splack... splack... splack!’

Furon’s hips twitch and spasm desperately, the tauren going cross-eyed and his mouth agape, his orgasms were often intense, but not mind-numblingly so! For a moment, he wondered if he’d ever stop, he already began to feel copious amounts of hot seed soak his own member, having filled the presented womb so quickly. It wasn’t until he spied a thick river of cum stray from her cunt, that Furon’s orgasm finally began to taper off. His petite chest heaved as he caught his breath. To his surprise, the vrykul simply held him suspended in place, his hooves and arms a good foot or more from the ground!

“Done?” she says simply, gently jostling Furon in her grip like a used sex toy, paying no mind to the silly amounts of tauren spunk leaking from her nethers. At first, Furon manages a limp nod. “I-I think so...” But, he blinks, then peers down towards those honed abs in front of him. A few seconds passed, “Uh... th-this is the part where I’m supposed to go soft, right?” he asked. Unless he was mistaken, his cock was still very much erect, occasionally throbbing and twitching in the aftermath, but still as erect as before! The vrykul grinned, “Normally, yes, but why do you think I dabble in alchemy?”

Furon’s eyes widened and his ears set back, the tauren gulps. “H...How long...?” “Two hours” she chortled, lowering Furon just enough to make the half-way point on his cock, before yanking him up again. Then lowering him, then lifting. The motions for her were so easy, so seamless. Furon was surprised to find his cock wasn’t painfully sensitive post-cumming as one would expect, but he did already begin to feel pressure build up in his loins again. As the vrykul heaved him up and down, Furon found himself mesmerised by her immense breasts, the orbs gently bouncing with each jostle. He swiftly averted his gaze when she laughed, “So typical, despite being the strongest woman in Stormheim, all men can see in me are my oversized breasts” Furon mumbled a weak apology, in between his own moans and grunts.

The addition of his semen had made the constant motions smoother, but much messier, a small puddle of lube and cum starting to dribble onto the floor. “If you’re a good little fucktoy-urnf!-and do as I say, I -might- give you a reward for good behaviour!” she huffs. Furon looked up at her face, was she blushing beneath her her helmet? She seemed to be biting her lip now, her breathing becoming shallower, faster, her brutish, blunt mannerisms melting away. Furon could only assume it was related to the rapid clenching of her cunt around his shaft. “F-Fuck! Almost! A-Almost...!” she suddenly yielded a deep, surprisingly masculine, grunt, bringing Furon back into the hilt as she reached her own orgasm! The vrykul’s grip on his waist grows painful, making the tauren yelp (And be thankful he’s a tauren and not a more fragile race!). It’s her turn to make her pelvis spasm and buck rapidly, a stammered groan of sheer relief escaping her lips. Furon allows himself a hot coo as well, finding the sensation of her honey soaking his girth to be quite appealing.

The pair huff, puff, moan and groan in their own respective ways (Bizarrely, Furon sounding the more feminine of the two), dripping with seed, honey and sweat. For a full minute, the vrykul recuperates, joining Furon as the pair bask in the hot, sticky afterglow. “H-Ha... huff...” she starts, “I-I needed that” she confesses. Oblivious to the edging Furon in her grip, the tauren desperately trying to stop himself cumming again so soon, copious amounts of pre was already starting to spurt from his tip akin to a constant assault of miniature orgasms! No doubt, the vrykul’s alchemy was still at work But to his dismay, the vrykul recovers her previous attitude rapidly, and is quick to grin at the tauren once more. “Ready for round three?” she inquires. It wasn’t a question.