Ger'hel

-x-X-x-

Despite Harry's intentions, they don't go all the way to Grom'Gar to kill the Iron Wolf right after rescuing Karg. When they eventually find the captured orc, he's in bad enough shape that Lokra insists they return to the Frostwolf Clan first to get Karg some help. So, that's what they do. It's only once they're there and Harry and Samaara find themselves seated at a fire in the center of the camp that an orc Harry has already been introduced to approaches him.

"Wizard. I offer my thanks for your help in returning Karg to us. You did not need to assist Lokra in her hunt, but you did, nonetheless. What you've done for the Frostwolf Clan is honorable and has done a lot to quell any unease that some orcs might have had at letting you and your Draenei companion into our camp."

Harry smiles slightly at that. He can practically hear the way Durotan is building up to something in the orc's voice. He inclines his head in acknowledgment of the Frostwolf Chieftain's words all the same.

"I'm glad to hear it. Though there's still the matter of vengeance. Lokra is owed as much, after the Iron Wolf killed her companion. And I must admit, I hate to leave a job undone."

His eyes flash at that, and beside him, Samaara shivers slightly. Durotan though, if he notices, doesn't comment on it. Instead, the hulking orc latches onto Harry's words, his own eyes brightening slightly, and his tusked mouth curling into a pleased smile.

"Good, good. I'd come to ask if you would join me on a quest to take the fight to the Iron Wolf himself. He is one of the Iron Horde's Warlords, and the Thunderlords not only outnumber the Frostwolf Clan, they have the backing of the Iron Horde as well. It will take time for their war machines to be brought to Frostridge, but they will come, and when they do, the Frostwolf Clan will be wiped out… unless we take action now."

Harry inclines his head again, but this time doesn't speak, instead gesturing for Durotan to continue on. The orc clenches one of his fists in front of him.

"I mean to take the fight to the Iron Wolf himself. Cut him down, and the Thunderlords will be leaderless and directionless. The Iron Horde will no longer have the foothold they need to push deeper into Frostfire Ridge, and we might very well be able to push them back altogether. Will you join me and my people, Wizard?"

What was Harry going to say, no? He could, he supposed. He could decline Durotan's offer and then go deal with the Iron Wolf himself. It would almost be pitifully easy, using apparation to get himself past the Thunderlord army, and then using any number of magic spells from his own world to finish the Iron Wolf off before the orcish warlord so much as had the chance to blink.

And yet, Harry could already tell it would be dissatisfying. Not only would it probably set him back with the Frostwolf Clan, Lokra would personally be upset if he took her revenge from her. And Durotan and his clan would begin to view Harry in a less favorable light, less as a Wizard, which seemed to already have their hackles raised a bit, and more as an Assassin, which Harry doubted would make them any happier with him.

But more than how it would cause those he was trying to ally himself with to react to him, Harry himself found the concept distasteful. He wanted… he wanted to stretch his muscles a bit, truth be told. After all, as much as Harry was a master of the magic from his old world, as much as he'd been using it to trounce a majority of the foes he'd encountered since arriving here, it wasn't like he'd been idle. After all, while technically he was still an apprentice in terms of Azerothian Magic… he was an Archmage's apprentice above all else.

Jaina might have loved getting fucked silly by Harry's big fat cock, and they might have found themselves distracted by earth-shattering events every once in a while, as well, but there'd been plenty of downtime since he'd arrived on this world in which he's learned plenty under Jaina. His desire to get back home to the bevy of baby mama's he'd left behind hasn't diminished… he's just continuously getting distracted by enticing women and the woes of Azeroth itself, what he considers 'side quests' to his main goal.

Still, perhaps it's the nature of this new world, this… Draenor. Perhaps it's the nature of Frostfire Ridge itself, a tundra of snow and lava, where ice and fire interact with each other in a constant passionate lover's embrace, and everyone trying to live here is just trying to stay out of the way of both. But… Harry wants a fight. He wants a real honest fight, using the magics that Jaina has been teaching him since they finally brought Garrosh down.

So no, Harry wasn't going to say no to Durotan's request. Quite the opposite, in fact. Looking up at the Orc Chieftain, Harry gives him a savage, bared-teeth grin, followed by a two-word response.

"I'm in."

The orc seems slightly taken aback by him for a second, as if not sure what to make of the small pink-skinned thing before him. But in the end, Durotan grins right back. If he knew what he was getting into, he might not have.

-x-X-x-

The Wizard's savagery could not be understated. Durotan finds himself amazed, and perhaps just a little afraid as he watches the human dismantle his newly revealed brother. Part of him regrets bringing the Wizard along on this quest. It should be him tearing the Iron Wolf down, but instead he's been relegated to the back-foot, forced to fight the Iron Wolf's rylak, Chilltongue with the others.

The party that Durotan has brought with him is small. Ga'nar, Draka, and Lokra. No more. Karg had wanted to come, to help Lokra avenge her wolf, but he was still too weak for the journey. In the end, that was for the best. Durotan hadn't realized it, but this was a family matter. If he'd known, he wouldn't have brought the Wizard or Lokra either. As much as the young shaman deserved her vengeance, the Iron Wolf was in fact Durotan's older brother, Fenris, and he was his problem.

So then why could he not bring himself to move in and interfere in the titanic fight between the Wizard and the Iron Wolf? The Wizard's magics filled the room, powers that Durotan had only ever heard of the ogres of Highmaul being able to perform. Arcane sorcery, turned into fire and frost, or simply kept at it's basest arcane form.

The Wizard was capable of all of it, tossing around the magic like it was easy, throwing massive arcane missiles into the Iron Wolf, freezing him to the floor with frost magic, burning his leather armor off of him with fire magic. And all the while, he would vanish only to reappear on the other side of the Thunderlord's Hall, dodging arrows, dodging attacks.

Durotan's brother could do nothing. No… he wasn't his brother. Fenris Wolfbrother was dead and would stay dead. The Iron Wolf though… he wasn't long for this world either. As the Thunderlord Chieftain falls to his knees, unable to keep himself up any longer, Harry appears before him and from his hands comes the hottest fire Durotan has ever witnessed a living being expel. It's as if he's shooting lava himself, and the Iron Wolf's roar of defiance turns into a dying scream as he's erased from existence, turned into so much ash by the Wizard's power.

The Frostwolf Chieftain is afraid… meanwhile, the females in the room are reacting in a different way, not that Durotan notices. Draka stares at the seemingly diminutive human in a new light. Both Lokra and Samaara aren't surprised, but they are immensely turned on. And unbeknownst to everyone there, there is one more pair of eyes that watches the entire fight happen from a hidden alcove, one more orc woman who sees it all. Ger'hel, mate of the Iron Wolf, can only watch as her beloved is destroyed by the Wizard's immense magical might. She would have been at his side, fighting with him, she would have attacked even now, if she could, but her mate had bound and gagged her, and hidden her away just before their arrival.

Even now, Ger'hel can feel the rope her mate used fraying under her repeated attempts to break free. But the caster and his cohorts leave long before she can. They depart from the hall, their mission completed, and all Ger'hel can do is scream into the gag her beloved put in her throat to hide her position. By the time she finally manages to rip herself free of her bondage, there's no one left to fight, and nothing but ash left of the Iron Wolf himself.

As she kneels there, staring down at her mate's remains, Ger'hel quells the lust blazing in her belly. How dare any part of her be interested in laying with her mate's killer?! She snarls, focusing instead on her rage, on her anger. She would hunt the wizard to the ends of the world. She would kill him, and she would kill Durotan, and she would lead the Thunderlords as her mate would have wanted!

Snarling, Ger'hel rises and moves to send a message to the Iron Horde. They would need to know what happened here today. They would come to the aid of her and her clan. And the Frostwolves and this Wizard would all SUFFER!

-x-X-x-

Watching the ferocity and savagery of the human as he'd taken the Iron Wolf apart with his arcane magics had been eye opening for Draka, mate to Durotan. She knew she was supposed to be wholly loyal to Durotan, to the young Chieftain of the Frostwolf Clan, and before this… 'Harry' had arrived, she had been. Durotan was the light of her life, the love that she'd never dared to dream she would get. They'd grown up side by side, and ultimately become mates, and Draka truly did love him with all her heart.

But she was an orc and a woman at the end of the day, and there was no denying that in many ways, the Wizard Harry appealed to quite a lot of her most primal instincts as both. The orc in her admired his ferocity, his capacity for savageness. The woman in her wondered what sort of traits he would pass on to any children he had, if they would have the same powers that he did, if they would have the same STRENGTH that he did.

A strength that Harry was demonstrating even now, as the Iron Horde attempted to retaliate for their killing of a Warlord. Draka could admit that part of her had despaired when she'd heard, along with the rest of the Frostwolf Clan, what was coming for them. As Durotan's mate, she'd of course known that the chance of retaliation was quite high, and even if they didn't act and remove the Iron Wolf from power, it was rather clear that his other Warlords would help him to conquer the rest of Frostfire Ridge eventually.

It was a lava pocket ready to explode no matter what they did, so in the end, it was important to make the first move, to take the first step. But even knowing all they knew, no one had thought the Iron Horde would send a force that was ten times their number in response to the Iron Wolf's demise. That was… there was no battle they could win on the snowy plains of Frostfire Ridge against that sort of army, against that many numbers. There was no way for them to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat… unless they once again reacted preemptively.

The only way they were going to keep the Iron Horde from destroying them as well as their new allies, the only way they would be able to maintain their way of life and their culture, was if they could stop the Iron Horde at the pass, the Thunder Pass to be exact. It was the only way in and out of Frostfire Ridge on land and trying to land a fleet anywhere on the snowy area's coast was a bad idea for a number of reasons. Draenor's oceans were even more dangerous than it's lands, truth be told.

So yes, they had a chance. If they could blow the pass, if they could lock the Iron Horde's forces out of Frostfire before they could even get in, then the number advantage would be meaningless. It was a lot of big if's… but as the Battle for Thunder Pass rages all around her, and Draka finds herself being aided by Harry in the killing of Malgrim Stormhand, she begins to realize it's doable.

And it's all because of this human wizard, this strange, small, pink-skinned man who's helping them save their home and their clan. How can she not be ever so slightly aroused by this? How can she not feel twinges of lust as Harry cuts down Malgrim and then turns to her, a concerned look on his face.

"Are you alright?"

In the end, all Draka can do is nod dumbly. The Wizard offers her a small smile in turn and nods back, before turning away and moving on. His Draenei companion, his so-called 'bodyguard', follows after him, looking just as lost as Draka herself feels. This Harry does not need a bodyguard, in her humble opinion. He is a force unto himself. Woe be anyone that tried to stand against him.

As much as she hated her primal instincts for wanting her to submit to the human male despite already having a strong, handsome mate, Draka was glad for one thing. She was glad that Harry was on her side. She'd hate to have him as an enemy.

-x-X-x-

As the collapse happens, as Thunder Pass is broken and ruined in order to halt the Iron Horde's advance, Harry finds himself on the wrong side of it. He doesn't blame the Frostwolf Clan though, even if it was their shaman, Drek'thar, that caused the collapse in order to help Ga'nar, Durotan's brother, buy time. After all, Harry could teleport away, so it wasn't like he and Samaara were trapped or anything like that.

In fact, after the battles of the last few days, after the titanic conflict of today, Harry's blood was up, and so was his cock. Perhaps now was the time to have some fun… and he had a Draenei pet with a perfectly good set of holes, only slightly used, standing right beside him. Harry hums as he considers how he wants to start in on Samaara, while the Draenei in turn fidgets and squirms behind him, instinctively knowing what his silence means, now that they're away from the conflict temporarily.

But before Harry can pull Samaara down to her knees and use her horns as handlebars with which to fuck her face in preparation for fucking her tight cunt or juicy fat ass, they find out that they're not so alone after all.

"WIZARD!"

At the same time that a female orc snarls that in rage, a half dozen arrows lance through the air at them. Harry raises a shield with ease, of course, and the arrows scatter off of the arcane magic, their momentum completely broken. He holds the shield at bay as more and more arrows slam unerringly into it. They would have turned him and Samaara into pincushions, if he hadn't acted.

Well… actually, they would have turned Samaara into a pincushion, killing the Draenei in an instant if he hadn't acted. Harry himself was untouchable from most normal weapons, including these Draenor arrows. He'd actually tested it when they'd first arrived, attempting to cut himself with one of the arrowheads. Not even this unknown metal was able to get through his enchantments and the magics enhancing his body, thankfully.

Still, Samaara wasn't allowed to die just yet. Harry refused to let it happen. So, he kept the shield up, even as orcs began to appear before them, crawling down from crags and out from behind rocks. When their first few barrages of arrows don't work, they stop firing and instead move into position, assembling before him and Samaara.

Thunderlord Clan. Harry immediately recognizes them based on their attire, given that he and Durotan and their party had had to fight their way through a few of the Thunderlords on their mission to confront and take down the Iron Wolf directly. Now, it looked like the rest of the Thunderlord Clan had come to get revenge. And given that they'd always outnumbered the Frostwolf Clan due to their differences in opinion regarding recruitment and 'worthiness', that meant there were hundreds of brown-skinned orcs standing before him, looking quite angry.

But Harry barely pays most of them any mind, save to acknowledge their numbers. The majority of his attention focuses instead on the female orc that pushes through to the front of the pack, snarling as she stands slightly apart from the rest of the orcs, in the small no-man's land that's formed between him and her clan. Her hair is blue and long, done up in a ponytail that sits high on the top of her skull. Her skin, like the rest of this alternate universe's orcs he's seen, is brown. Her form is toned and muscled, but then, Harry has yet to meet a fat or skinny orc, truth be told. Draenor bred strength and killed off weakness from what he's seen so far.

Regardless, even though he can tell she hates him, even though he can see the rage and fury in her eyes, he can also see the lust. It's easy enough to decide who this is. Smirking a little from behind his arcane shield, Harry cocks his head to the side, taking on a distinctly disrespectful and casual tone, even as he speaks perfect Orcish.

"The Iron Wolf's mate, I presume? I wondered where you were, while I was reducing him to ash."

Her spine stiffens, and the rest of the Thunderlords snarl and roar. A few archers let loose again in pure rage, but their arrows do nothing against his shield. The Iron Wolf's mate, because it's obvious Harry has hit the nail on the head, snarls along with her clan. The moment she starts speaking however, everyone else quiets down.

"I am Ger'hel, mate of the Iron Wolf, and now Chieftainess of the Thunderlord Clan! COME OUT FROM BEHIND YOUR SHIELD WIZARD! FACE JUSTICE FOR YOUR COWARDICE!"

As she gets the rest of her people worked up, Harry hums to himself, wondering what sort of response she expects. Doing as he's told and stepping out from behind the cover of his arcane shield clearly isn't it, because her face lights up in surprise for a moment when Harry does exactly that, striding forward with all the confidence in the world, a carefree smile on his face.

Of course, Samaara tries to follow him, perhaps to actually try to be the bodyguard they both know she's really not, only to find that the arcane shield won't let her through, that it's keeping her in, that for her… it's an arcane prison. Her screams of his name as she bangs against the arcane magic are muffled, even as Harry gives Ger'hel an easy smile.

"Well? Here I am."

Immediately, an arrow lances through the air, aimed for his chest. Harry catches it before it can arrive, and contemptuously breaks the shaft in hand. Using the moment of shock that this gives him, Harry speaks, his voice ringing loud and clear through the area, even though his words are directed solely at Ger'hel.

"The Iron Wolf's mate! Chieftainess of the Thunderlord Clan! Hah! You hide behind your males, just as you hid behind your mate. Will you yourself not fight me? Will you not duel me, as your mate did?"

It was obvious from Ger'hel's posture and the fact that she was already at the front of her clan that she had every intention of being the first one to get within melee range of him. But now Harry has pulled the rug out from under her, in a way. At hearing his challenging words, some of the anger and rage has bled out of the Thunderlord Clan. Yes, he'd killed their chieftain, but if it was truly a one on one like he said, then was that not fair? There's curiosity now… interest in some of their orcish faces.

Seeming to notice this as well, Ger'hel snarls and raises a massive two-handed war-axe she's holding into the air.

"Wizard! I challenge you to Mak'gora! The terms are this! No weapons, no magic, no armor!"

And then she tosses her war axe to the side and slams her fists into her chest, as if challenging him to strike her down with his magic and fore-go the challenge altogether. But Harry just smiles and reaches up to undo the ties on his robes. It's easy enough to shuck the garment off of his shoulders, and seeing this, Ger'hel begins to do the same.

In the end, Harry is left bare-chested wearing nothing but a simple pair of cloth pants, while Ger'hel has stripped out of her leathers and has nothing but her loincloth and chest-wrap left to cover her up. The mood of the Thunderlord Clan has changed completely at this point. The bows and arrows of the archers have been put away. Those with melee weapons still hold them at the ready, but now they've encircled Harry and Ger'hel, and have begun chanting under their breaths.

"Mak'gora, Mak'gora, Mak'gora…"

Through unspoken agreement, both Harry and Ger'hel move closer to one another, allowing the Thunderlords to complete the circle around them, leaving Samaara trapped behind Harry's arcane shield still, in between the collapsed pass and his magic, unable to get free. But she's stopped fighting it at this point, either from sheer despair, or because she realizes what Harry's doing and knows how this is going to end. Perhaps a combination of both, even.

Smirking slightly at the thought only pisses Ger'hel off, as she thinks he's smirking at her.

"I'm going to tear your head from your body, Wizard! Without your magic, you are nothing but a small, weak pink-skin!"

Harry chuckles at that, cocking his head to the side. Ger'hel spoke loudly enough for everyone else to hear as well, so he does the same.

"Tell me, how many of my kind have you fought at this point?"

When she hesitates, Harry grins and speaks before she can.

"None? That's what I thought. This will be a learning experience for you then."

Doubt appears for a brief moment in Ger'hel's eyes. His casual confidence, his altogether arrogant swagger, and even the aura that he exudes instinctively wherever he goes… all of that is starting to worry this bitch of an orc. Harry just lets his cocky grin grow all the wider, and in the end, that's enough to provoke Ger'hel forward.

Letting out a roar that's half anguished, the orc huntress launches herself forward, her large hands reaching out, likely to rip his head from his body, just as she said she would. The soft undertones of 'Mak'gora' surrounding them go silent as the fight begins, allowing for the sounds of flesh smacking against flesh to fill the air as Harry… catches Ger'hel's wrists with ease.

He stops the hulking female orc dead in her tracks, his feet not even having to dig into the ground as he holds her fast with ease. A hushed silence settles over the Thunderlord Clan, and Ger'hel's eyes go wide in shock and surprise as the moment stretches on. Then, Harry quirks up the side of his mouth and spins around, throwing Ger'hel over his shoulder and slamming her into the ground quite easily.

He lets her go then, and watches as she stands up, unsteady and staggered. Everyone is watching her, and when she realizes this, when she realizes they're all seeing her weakness, she spins about and rushes him again, roaring into his face once more. And once more, Harry trounces her. This time when he stops her advance with ease, he lifts up one leg and kicks her brutally in the chest, causing her to fly back a good ten feet and roll even further. She almost goes out of the circle that the Thunderlord Clan have made, but her clanmates don't allow that, pushing her back when she rolls into their reach, nudging her with their feet.

Harry can feel a fresh change going over the Thunderlord Clan as they realize the way the wind is blowing, as they understand that he's not going to lose this Mak'gora. He can also see the respect in more and more of the orcish faces around him, even as Ger'hel struggles to get to her feet, bruised and battered and winded now, and clearly feeling the bite of the snow on her half-naked body.

It doesn't stop her from rushing him again however, but her movements are noticeably slowing down, so Harry decides that now is the time to end it. This time, when he grabs her by her wrists, halting her attempts to grapple him down to the ground, he squeezes hard enough to make her bones creak and the she-orc herself cry out in pain. Then, slowly, forcibly, he pushes Ger'hel down to her knees.

"Submit."

Ger'hel's defiant expression becomes one of shock when Harry pulls his pants down and reveals his bitch breaker of a cock by slapping it down onto her face with a meaty smack. Harry just smiles at her as he unceremoniously rubs his member, much more massive than any of the orcs watching could have guessed, all over her features.

"Submit."

He doesn't wait for a response though. They're still fighting… and Harry is still winning. Throwing Ger'hel onto her back is easy enough, as it is tearing her loincloth away. Before she can even catch her breath, let alone react, Harry is in between her legs and the entire Thunderlord Clan watches as his big, fat cock slams home into Ger'hel's cunt. Hundreds of orcs watch as Harry claims the dead chieftain's wife with a powerful thrust into her quivering quim.

Ger'hel's response is a shriek that's loud enough to resound out over the entire pass. While most of the Frostwolf males assume it to be rage, the females sense something different, their pussies quivering in response to Ger'hel's claiming. Meanwhile, Lokra, who definitely knew what was happening in that moment, beat a hasty retreat to find somewhere more private, where the young orc shaman could finger and fist her suddenly needy cunt into submission.

Back with Harry and the Thunderlords, he's not letting up for even a second. And to her credit, Ger'hel is still making token attempts to struggle against him. Which is why he's holding the huntress down by her neck now, his hands wrapped around her neck and squeezing down on her corded muscular throat harder than they had any right to based on their appearance. Even still, Ger'hel couldn't breathe, she couldn't speak as the human, as the Wizard fucked her hard and fast, his cock slamming home into her cunt again and again with violent force.

The most that she can do to fight back at this point, her much larger hands clasped around his wrists but having no effect, is wrap her legs around his waist in an attempt to crush him in between her thighs. It should be easy, based on appearance alone. Ger'hel is an orc woman, a powerhouse of a beauty, with muscles for days and a strength born from living on a death world such as Draenor. Harry, by comparison, was a human. Sure, humans could be strong, sure humans could be muscular and tall. But Harry was a normal, average-sized human based on appearance alone. He wasn't skinny by any means, but what muscle he did have gave him more of a lithe runner's body than anything else.

And yet, he was easily manhandling Ger'hel into position, choking out the muscular orc woman even as his bitch-breaker of a cock slammed into her cunt again and again and again. And yet, even as she tried so hard to squeeze her muscular thighs down around his pelvis, to shatter the human man with her strength… she found no purchase there. The effort was most futile, even as Ger'hel's body betrayed her, twitching and quivering with pleasure every time he slammed home.

After a good while, Harry lets go of Ger'hel's throat and then pulls her up by her elongated, aroused nipples. Sitting back, he lets the half-broken orc Chieftainess slide the rest of the way down her cock. Ger'hel, who for a moment had thought to use this to her advantage to finally kill the bastard human having his way with her, can only go wide-eyed for a moment as his bitch-breaker finally enters her womb, breaking through her already weakened cervix. The orc's eyes roll back in her head and she cums on the spot from the pleasure, her tongue sticking straight out of her mouth as the first of many orgasms wracked her form.

Harry was sure that it was a strange sight to see, an orc huntress like Ger'hel bouncing up and down on a human half her size as pleasure takes her and climaxes shudder through her muscled form again and again. Harry fucks her like this for a time, but in the end, her cunt muscles make it impossible for him to hold back forever. In the end, he has to cum… so he does. He unloads inside of her, filling her with his seed, inflating her chiseled abdomen with virile cum.

All who watched had little doubt to who had won the Mak'gora, even as Harry lets Ger'hel fall back onto the snow and stands up, smirking down at her. Even if she doesn't say it, even if she doesn't surrender, the Thunderlord Clan knows who's won. But none of the orcs make a move… because it's all too obvious that Harry isn't done yet, to all of them.

Ger'hel can only look on in terror as his hard cock hovers over her broken form. She can only whimper in fear, as it approaches her again.

-x-X-x-

As Harry fucks the orcish whore's ass, her shrieks and screams aren't QUITE as loud as they were before. They still bounce off of the rocky walls around them though, filling the ears of her fellow Thunderlords. If not for the fact that the Mak'gora still wasn't technically done, Harry was pretty sure that some of the males would already have pushed some of the females down and had their way with them as well at this point. As it was, more than a few of both the male orcs and female orcs had taken to openly touching themselves to the sight of their dead chieftain's mate being railed by the human in their midst.

Meanwhile, Harry had grabbed Ger'hel by her thick ankles and lifts her legs up into the air with ease. Due to the difference in their heights and sizes, Harry hadn't even needed to crouch down to do what he'd done next. With all of Ger'hel's weight on her shoulders and neck, with the musclebound Thunderlord orc trapped in his grasp, Harry had positioned his lubed-up, mammoth-sized cock at Ger'hel's back door and thrust right in without a care in the world. As he'd anally penetrated the orcish woman, she'd yowled in protest, her hands scrambling at the snowy ground around her for purchase to no avail.

Eventually, she'd managed to find his ankles, grabbing at them and tugging on them, as if she thought she could pull him off balance now, as if she thought the difference in their strength wouldn't allow him to simply stand steadfast where he already was and keep fucking her ass with all his might. In the end, Ger'hel settles for just holding onto his ankles for dear life, while Harry pistons in and out of her back door again and again.

Her asshole is much tighter than her cunt, of course. Harry imagines that makes sense, that a culture like this wouldn't really have much concept of anal. After all, they didn't really have the ability to fully cleanse themselves back there yet. Harry had taken care of that before he'd stuck his big fat dick in Ger'hel of course, cleaning out her bowels so that he could have the run of the place. Now, slamming into her again and again with ease, he was enjoying himself far too much, enjoying fucking this broken-down orc female in front of the rest of her clan.

He could already tell that he was going to take control of all of them at the end of this. And why not, right? From what Harry has been told, and what he'd read in Liadrin's reports on the subject, the Thunderlord Clan accepted orcs not born into their clan, and they commonly allowed outsiders to fight alongside them and earn their place. In fact, from what he'd been told, the Iron Wolf had originally joined the Iron Horde in the first place because of the diversity of orcs inherent in their organization.

Well, Harry had killed their old chieftain in one on one combat. And if the bitch currently getting broken in by his big fat cock was to be believed, the remnants of the Thunderlord Clan had subsequently appointed her as their new chieftainess. Now here they all were, with Harry having been challenged to a Mak'gora by their new leader, and her having lost in such a humiliating fashion.

Oh sure, he still expected some of the males to not consider the whole contest valid. He still expected some of the Thunderlord Clan to not respect him, to try and undermine him. Already, even as he fucked Ger'hel's ass harder and harder, even as her shrieking turned to squealing, Harry was feeling out the minds of the orcs around him. The females, he might partake in eventually. The males though… he could tell which ones would follow him loyally, which ones would follow him begrudgingly, and most importantly of all, those that would actively work against him. Harry tags each of those orcs and begins planning how to deal with them… even as he continues to rail Ger'hel's ass from above, fucking the folded-up orc woman into screaming climax after screaming climax.

Eventually, Harry finishes inside of Ger'hel's ass, just as he did her cunt. He pumps a second load of white, hot seed into the orc woman's bowels, filling the huntress to the brim again. This results in her belly bulging out even further, and her eyes fully rolling back in her skull. As Harry pulls out of her, he looks down at the orc he has completely at his mercy, and already knows what he wants to do next. But of course, first…

Looking up, Harry makes eye contact with orc after orc, looking over the Thunderlords currently watching him defile their dead chieftain's mate, and the woman they'd named their new chieftainess. Smirking easily, speaking in fluent orcish, Harry cocks his head to the side.

"I'm sure we can all say this Mak'gora is over at this point, can't we? I won. Which means… Samaara! Get over here!"

None of the Thunderlord Clan say anything, but those orcs that had closed up the circle on the far side do move so that Samaara can walk past them all, the arcane prison protecting her and keeping her away from the fight finally dissipating. Flushing indignantly, but also lustfully, knowing what Harry was going to make her do next, at least vaguely, the gorgeous Draenei strides forward, nonetheless, moving to where he and Ger'hel were.

Pulling his cock fully out of the orc huntress' ass, Harry hands off Ger'hel's ankles to Samaara. Then, he grabs the Draenei by one of her horns and yanks her down to the fucked silly orc's cum-filled holes, specifically Ger'hel's anus.

"Lick, slut."

Samaara shudders with orgasmic delight as she's humiliated and debased by her human master in front of all these orcs. Harry, meanwhile, begins to remove her lower armor so that he can get at her ass. Once he's exposed the bent over Draenei, even as she licks and slurps at Ger'hel's asshole enthusiastically and dutifully, Harry moves into position, grabbing hold of Samaara by the hips and lining up his bitch-breaker of a cock with her cunt.

Then, he slams forward into her. Samaara's squeals, while muffled by Ger'hel's ass, still fill the area as the Thunderlords watch him defile not just their dead chieftain's mate, but also his own Draenei companion. Harry smirks as he feels the respect that most of the Thunderlord Clan has for him rise in their minds. Even some of those who had been begrudging before actually respect him more now upon seeing him fucking Samaara right in front of them.

Of course, those that he can tell are going to try to undermine him won't be swayed so easily. None of them are going to change their minds just because Harry is fucking a smoking hot Draenei as he forces her to eat Ger'hel's ass. No, if anything, the only thing that changes for THOSE orcs is their desire to defile Samaara themselves, rather than simply killing her as they so badly want to kill him.

Still, none of them will make a move right now. Even with Harry having declared the Mak'gora over, not a single Thunderlord orc tries to challenge him, or attack him. Though, some of the ones that Harry can tell are already mated to one another having finally given into their basest instincts and at seeing Harry engaging in a threesome with Ger'hel and Samaara, they fall upon each other in a heavy lust. Not all of the hundreds of orcs watching the scene do this, of course, but there are couplings going on besides just Harry and his orc and Draenei pets now.

In the face of the beginnings of an impromptu orgy, Harry can't help but laugh. These orcs… he quite likes them, if he's being honest. He enjoys breaking their women, and their men…their men die as easily as any other race he's found. But he can get behind the culture of the Thunderlord Clan in particular, the culture that allows him to come in, kill their chieftain, break their chieftainess on his bitch-breaker of a cock, and then take over, just like that.

Roaring his victory, Harry fucks Samaara all the harder, which eventually results in the gorgeous Draenei being unable to keep her feet. She falls forward onto Ger'hel, and they end up on top of each other. As Samaara clings to the fucked silly orc huntress for dear life, Harry goes with them, basically mounting his Draenei bitch as he's done countless times before, and even reaching up to grab the back of Samaara's head and force her forward, force her to kiss Ger'hel.

The lust-filled, horny Draenei does as he's silently telling her to and begins to make out with Ger'hel, even as the Thunderlord Chieftainess, for as short a time as she held that title, moans into Samaara's mouth and unthinkingly does the same. Ger'hel is too dazed, too out of it at this point to fight back. She's been humiliated in front of her Clan, she's been fucked into a stupor in front of them, she's even potentially been BRED in front of them, if Harry's seed takes root in her womb.

She's lost all credibility with the Thunderlords, while Harry has become their leader in one fell swoop. Needless to say, he doesn't think that this was what Ger'hel had planned when she originally set up this ambush, hunting him down with her clan to try to avenge her mate. But perhaps some small part of her still knew it was coming. Perhaps some part of her knew she was going to end up submitting to Harry's big, fat cock, even if she didn't know how big and how much of a bitch breaker it would truly turn out to be.

Fucking Samaara on top of Ger'hel's equally fucked body, Harry groans as he finally cums inside of the Draenei, spilling his third load into her womb. But he doesn't stop there. He moves to Samaara's asshole next and keeps right on fucking her. He can feel himself rising in esteem in more and more of the Thunderlord Clan's minds as he does this. Three goes? That was about average for an orc, even if most humans couldn't manage that. But with Harry now fucking away towards his fourth release, even some of the orcs who sought to supplant him were beginning to become impressed.

He would still remove them before they had a chance to do anything to undermine his newfound authority, of course, but it was amusing feeling their surprise and shock along with the rest of the Thunderlords as the orcs all realized just what Harry was capable of, just how long he could go for. Fucking Samaara's ass to completion, Harry tosses the fucked senseless Draenei off of his true prize, letting her flop to the side as she moans and twitches and spasms.

He reaches down and grabs Ger'hel by her blue ponytail and drags the orc huntress up out of the snow. It takes a bit of doing to position her properly, at which point Harry places a fingertip against Ger'hel's engorged abdomen and begins to draw a lightning bolt into her brown flesh.

"I am in charge now! The Thunderlord Clan belongs to ME! You will all kneel… or suffer the same fate as the Iron Wolf!"

Harry feels sparks of fear from many minds. It's the confirmation he needs… wherever Ger'hel was during his fight with her mate, it was nearby. The orc huntress was close enough to see him fight the Iron Wolf, and to see him kill her beloved. And then she'd gone on and told the rest of the Thunderlord Clan just how Harry had erased the Iron Wolf from existence by burning him to ash with fire hot enough to disintegrate him.

Perhaps Ger'hel had used that story to convince them all to appoint her as chieftainess. Perhaps she'd used that story and the thought of revenge to get them all to come out here now. However, it had backfired now, because knowing what they knew about what he'd done to their previous chieftain, not even those who would seek to undermine him were willing to stand against him publicly now. No, they would wait till later.

Regardless, the end result was, by the time Harry had finished branding Ger'hel with his symbol, a lightning bolt standing out proudly on her inflated stomach for all to see, every single member of the Thunderlord Clan was kneeling. Even those who had been engaging in raucous coupling and fucking one another had stopped and now knelt in the snow around him.

Hoisting Ger'hel up into the air, Harry grins wickedly as he slams the already insensate orc huntress down onto his cock, taking her in a full nelson as he wraps his arms up under her muscular thighs and slides his hands together back behind her large head. He bounces Ger'hel's folded form up and down on his cock, even as he treats her like nothing more than a sleeve for his member, slamming up into her cunt again, displacing some of the cum, pushing some of it even further up into her.

He fucks her womb for a good long while as the Thunderlord Clan kneels before him, before eventually cumming one final, fifth time inside of the so very short-lived Chieftainess. He fills Ger'hel with his seed in front of her clan, now his clan, and smiles wickedly as he looks out at his new army. The Thunderlords were beaten and broken, mostly by his own doing. They numbered in the hundreds at this point… but all the same, Harry would use them.

Of course, even he didn't realize what this truly meant just yet. Even he didn't quite understand the momentous nature of the occasion. In that moment, Harry didn't JUST break Ger'hel on his dick, or JUST take over the Thunderlord Clan by winning his Mak'gora against her in such a decisive fashion. He didn't JUST gain a small army by demanding their submission.

No, in that moment… another Warlord of Draenor was born. The Iron Wolf's position had been usurped… by a human.