Stress Relief pt 1
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Stress Relief In Stormwind free porn video
Stress Relief in Stormwind
By: Lyrissa
"Of all the presumptuous, ignorant, stubborn..."
Anya Trueshield muttered to herself as she slammed the door to her
private quarters shut behind her. Her steel-plated warboots impacted
roughly on the thick, soft carpet as she stomped around with no clear
direction for a few moments.
"Can't do this. Can't do that. Of course we trust you, lady Trueshield,
it's just that... Bah! I'm tired of all this constant interference. I
have half a mind to just demand some time off." The lady paladin
continued muttering to herself as she tugged off her gauntlets and tossed
them nonchalantly onto the bed. She removed her flowing blue cape as
well, and sank down into a chair, leaning back and breathing deeply. "I
swear it used to be so much simpler to be a paladin."
Anya was quite a pretty woman with fair skin, short midnight black hair
and piercing bright blue eyes. Her face was open and unblemished, a true
testament to her skill in battle. Despite not being unusually tall or
muscular she carried herself with a controlled grace and radiated a force
of will which made her appear all the more formidable to both enemies and
friends. Right now, however, that willpower was mostly channelled into
frustration, which made her appear almost like a human thunderstorm. She
grumbled to herself, muttering the names of several older (and male)
members of her order whose stubbornness and lack of flexibility were
currently hindering Anya's pursuit of justice.
"Why am I getting worked up over this?" she said with a deep sigh,
rubbing her temples gently with both hands. "I've endured worse. I'm not
a child to be flustered by a scolding by my elders." She let her ice-blue
eyes trail across the comfortable furniture of the room, a combined
bedroom, library and study. It was nice, homely and utterly dull to her
at the moment. "Maybe that is what I truly need. Some time off." Hoisting
her armoured form back to her feet, Anya paced across the room to peer
out of the window at the distant horizon. Sunset was all but over, and
the shadows were quickly growing longer as night began falling.
"But where could I go? What could I do? A paladin cannot simply take a
vacation and relax," she said to herself, trailing a finger across the
windowpane.
"...or could she?"
Anya's eyes roamed over to a large ironbound chest which rested against
the wall near her bed. The thought was so fleeting that it might as well
just have been a flash of subconscious desire, mixed with pleasant
memory, and yet it was enough that it made the young paladin's eyes dart
over to the large wooden container. She turned back towards the window
and tried to bat the thought away forcefully. What rested inside of the
chest should remain in there, locked away for eternity. She had no more
need or desire to touch that... thing. And yet... Anya almost felt as if
the chest was staring at her, as if unseen eyes were boring into her
back. It was like trying to avoid looking at a pet which was constantly
trying to get your attention.
"This is ridiculous. Even if I were to use that... object... again, that
would offer no relief or change to my situation," Anya told herself
firmly, but she could feel herself waver even as she spoke the words.
She turned back towards the chest. It sat there silent and solid, the
lock untouched by any hand since Anya had turned the key and hidden it
for the final time. It was a ridiculous thought, but suddenly she had a
quiet, seething desire to turn the key in that lock again and slowly open
the lid to pick up what rested inside. She wanted some relief and she had
a warm, scarlet flash of memory of games she had played in the past using
the thing hidden in the box. But, she told herself, this was a serious
situation. She was entrusted with a lot of responsibility now and the
city was filled with other paladins who could at any moment come calling
on her for a meeting or conference. If she was to be discovered in a
compromising situation, that would surely spell the end of her career in
the paladin orders!
And yet...
It would only be a brief little diversion. A few hours of harmless fun in
the privacy of her quarters. Where would the harm be? Nobody had called
on her during the night before, not while deep inside the largest city in
the Alliance. Nobody would ever know that Anya Trueshield was ...
indulging herself... in certain pleasures which others might find
questionable.
She was barely aware that she had stepped over to where she had hidden
the key and fished it out from its resting place behind the thick leather
covers of a large tome. Anya grinned wryly as she replaced the massive
book on the shelf. This was the only time she had found the dry book
about ecclesiastic rituals to be even remotely interesting. Anya felt
her heart beat a little bit faster and darted over to the door. She
listened against the wood for a few breathless moments, making sure
nobody was outside or approaching through the corridor, then she locked
and bolted the door securely. With a few determined steps she crossed the
room to pull the curtains closed over the windows as well, leaving the
room now illuminated only by the warm glow of the lanterns. Anya's hand
gripped the cold metal of the ornate key firmly and she felt a slight
hint of cold sweat against her back as she approached the chest almost
reverentially. She knelt down in front of the chest and her face
contorted into a frown.
What was she doing?
This was crazy; this was neither the time or the place for this. Maybe
after the meeting was over she could indulge herself, but right now? She
had her duties as a loyal soldier of the Alliance, not to mention as a
paladin. It was both selfish and unworthy of her station to harbour such
lustful thoughts. She forcefully stood up and dropped the key onto the
bed.
It stared back up at her silently.
Anya closed her eyes and relaxed. She breathed in and out a couple of
times. She could feel her pious determination crumble under the desire
for relaxation. Then she reached down and snatched the key up again,
jamming it into the lock on the chest and turning it rapidly. Her hands
were slick with perspiration now and she flipped the lid of the chest
open so she could study the contents. Anya quickly flipped some old
clothes and other disposable items aside, scattering them carelessly
across the floor. She had tried to hide the object as well as she could
on the remote chance that somebody would break into her quarters when she
wasn't there and assume the chest contained valuables. As her hungry
fingers dug down beneath the folded fabric they touched on something
thick, soft and heavy and she felt as if a jolt surged through her.
Biting her lip, Anya tore the item from its hiding place and held it up
in front of her, feeling her breathing become heavier with the lurid
promise of forbidden pleasure.
Dangling from her fingers was the empty, floppy skin of a tall, handsome
male troll.
The object was utterly realistic in the sense that it perfectly
replicated the outline and facial features of a Darkspear troll, but
obviously those features were distended and empty right now. The skin was
a rich sky blue in color and was soft to the touch like a real troll's
skin despite lacking any kind of substance inside it. Every detail, from
large coarse nails on its two-toed feet, to a set of large ivory tusks
dangling from the suit's lower jaw, to every fine hair in the bright red
Mohawk on the mask of the suit was perfectly replicated. Anya's fingers
brushed over the suit, straightening out wrinkles and letting it hang
naturally in her grasp. Even the large, empty manhood dangling from the
groin of the suit was expertly crafted, and the paladin found herself
licking her lips involuntarily. She had a brief flash of what it would be
like to be impaled on that large slab of meat, but she quickly dismissed
the thought. She let her finger penetrate the seam just beneath the chin
of the suit and trailed downwards across the chest and down to the groin.
A long, slightly moist dark slit opened on from neck to crotch on the
skin and Anya felt the excitement within her build to an almost
unbearable intensity.
"You're still so pliable and soft," she whispered to the husk. "Just like
the day I folded you up and left you in there. I didn't intend to ever
take you out again. I even considered having you burned, or sunk in the
bay. But I couldn't. I knew the day would come, even though I denied it."
Anya grabbed hold of the slack member of the suit and stroked it firmly,
letting the whole skin shudder in her hands. She looked into the gaping
eye holes of the mask and memories stirred within her, memories of seeing
those handsome features not as a floppy effigy but as a living, breathing
face.
Her face.
The paladin laid the troll skin out across the bed, letting it rest
against the soft covers. The smile that played across her face was very
unlike what most people expected of her, and right now that was exactly
the way Anya wanted it. While still admiring the masculine elegance of
the skin, the raven-haired human began stripping off the rest of her
heavy, ceremonial plate armor and array it next to the skin on the bed.
She had many hours of practice in donning and removing armor of every
type, both in the field and in the comfort of her home. She could even
sleep utterly comfortably in a suit of plate if she had to, but right now
all she wanted was to get out. After she had shed her glistening metal
carapace, Anya shimmied out of her plain, comfortable clothes and flopped
them on top of her breastplate and greaves. As she slid out of her
underwear, she breathed a deep sigh of relief. It had been months since
she had been this undisturbed and she relished every second of intimate
privacy. She gently cupped her modest breasts and slid a hand down her
soft-skinned thigh, feeling the muscle ripple gently underneath her pale
skin.
Anya Trueshield was not a narcissist, but she knew that some considered
her desirable, perhaps even more so because she did not reciprocate the
advances of either allies or friends. She herself cared little. As long
as her arm was strong enough to wield a sword or mace, she was content.
But right now, there was something else she desired much more. She picked
the empty troll skin up from where it lay and stretched the opening on
the front as wide as it went. The material that comprised the skin was
far more pliable than real skin or leather would ever be, which was
fortunate for Anya. Spreading the seam with her hands, she stepped her
right leg into the suit, plunging it all the way down to the foot. Her
foot was much smaller than the massive husk of the skin (and naturally
had many more digits) and the leg was longer than her own, so the overall
effect was something like wearing a stocking many sizes too big.
Nonetheless, Anya wiggled her foot down as far as she could so that she
was standing firmly, feeling the carpet through the dull numbness of the
skin's soles. She then repeated the process with her left leg, expertly
balancing on one leg as she did.
"I missed your embrace," she said in a breathy voice as she massaged the
baggy blue skin over her own. With a grunt, she pulled the hips of the
suit up over her own, feeling the weight of the troll's package wiggle
with every small movement of the rest of the costume. It was just a
heavy, insensitive object but Anya couldn't help but rub the member a
little, smiling to herself. "Can't wait ta get ya hands on me voodoo?"
she said in a thick, coarse voice and giggled at her poor imitation.
The distraction only lasted a moment before she picked up the torso of
the suit and began tugging on the right arm of the troll over her own. It
was like donning a glove where she had to squeeze her fingers together
two and two inside the two larger digits of the suit's hands. It wasn't
an entirely simple thing to keep using her hand while it was inside the
much too large troll hand, but she could just about manage as she
continued to pull the left arm on. "Such a big, strong troll... too big
for a little human female like me," she mumbled as she flexed her gloved
hands in front of her, letting them rub across her chest. It was exactly
like wearing a pair of thick gloves. "Or maybe ya be too small for me?"
she replied to herself with a giggle. "Maybe ya want de big strong troll
to take care o' ya?"
Anya was getting into the mood more and more for every inch of blue skin
she pulled over her own. She quickly adjusted the wider, muscular waist
and chest of the suit over her own, but let the seam stay open so that
her tummy and breasts poked out incongruously through the slit. Grabbing
the edges of the mask with both hands she hoisted the heavy arrangement
of long red hair, tusks and a jutting nose and chin up. She could smell
the slightly musky scent of enclosed air from within the mask, reminding
her of what she did the last time she was wearing this disguise and how
it basically had not been disturbed since. A flicker of doubt crossed her
mind again as she imagined one of her elders in the paladin order
bursting in through the door and discovering her half-wearing this weird
skin. And then her hands, almost through a will of their own, tugged the
mask down over her head and began clumsily arranging the eye holes so
that she could peek out through the suit and fitting her other facial
features as well as she could.
"Ya be too cautious, mon," she said to herself. "Ya be needin' only ta
relax and let me handle tings. You be great an' powerful paladin sistah,
but tonight ya be needin' ta be someone else."
"T-this is very undignified!" she replied to herself in her normal tone.
"Why would a stalwart paladin lady of Stormwind want to be associated
with such a ... such a beast!"
In response, she sat back on the bed and spread her legs wide, letting
the heavy weight of the troll's meat pull down on her groin. Her gloved
hands roamed over to grasp her breasts firmly, squeezing and massaging
them before one hand darted down inside the seam to pull one wide,
coarse-skinned finger against Anya's slit. She gasped inside the mask and
twitched, jagged bolts of red lightning dancing behind her eyelids as
pleasure raced through her.
"S-stop... you c-can't..." she moaned, feeling the large-fingered hand
rub her slit playfully.
"Sure I can," the voice came from her own lips. "Ya be havin' alla dese
pent-up frustrations an' passions, mon. Ya be needin' ta get dem all out.
I be helpin' ya. An' it would be a shame ta let such a pretty little body
go to waste..."
The fingers of the blue-skinned hand pinched and tweaked Anya's right
nipple and she grunted in arousal, feeling a slick sensation under the
fingers of the hand massaging her groin. She was only half-aware of what
she was doing now, and every movement came faster and more urgent, as if
she would explode from the pressure inside her otherwise.
"Ya want me ta stop, mon? Just say de word and I stop an' you can put me
back in da box..."
"N-no," came Anya's whispered response. "No, please... I need..."
"Ya need ta be someone rougher an' tougher, someone who's a lover more
den a fighter..."
"Yes."
"Ya need ta be ... me."
"Yes!"
Suddenly the hand which had been massaging her snatch withdrew rapidly,
and instead grabbed hold of the thick manhood of the suit. With a
carefully calculated and very forceful thrust, the hand guided the thick
meat shaft on the inside of the suit deep into Anya's slit where it
stretched out her labial lips wide and applied constant pressure to her
already sensitive groin. Panting with ecstasy, she firmly spun and thrust
the shaft as far up as it went, filling her completely and constantly
rubbing against her inner walls. Almost blinded by pleasure, her hands
then reached up to give the pale breasts on her chest a final rub before
pulling the two halves of the blue, muscular chest of the troll suit shut
over them. Biting her lip inside the mask, Anya could feel her modest but
well-shaped breasts being flattened roughly between her chest and the
suit, constantly rubbed by the friction. It was pleasure just on the
border of pain, and she had to focus immensely to continue moving her
body in any purposeful way.
"Ya be sayin' bye-bye now, lady Trueshield."
"B-b... b... bye..." she moaned.
She reached down to just above the large member dangling from her groin
and her clumsy three-fingered hand closed around a small metal tab.
Slowly and purposefully she began tugging the object upwards, and as it
passed the seam closed tightly and firmly. Her other hand rubbed the hilt
of her shaft and felt only warm, firm skin there with not a trace of the
slit that had been there just before. Up and up she pulled, letting the
washboard abs and masculine chest of the troll suit close around her,
enveloping her in a warm, soft darkness. She could barely see as sweat
and hot steam from her breath clouded her already half-obscured vision
out of the mask, but her hands knew the proper gestures and needed no
visual guidance. The hard metal tab travelled up Anya's disguised form
unobstructed, going up past her clavicles and up the neck. Finally, just
below the chin, her hands tugged the tab up firmly until it clicked into
place right beneath her jaw bone.
And then the entire world turned upside down.
The pressing darkness became bright, warm lantern light as Anya felt
herself stretching in every direction. She felt as if she was being born
anew as her skin suddenly went from being swaddled inside a heavy suit to
being exposed to the cool air of the room. Her face felt like it was
distending endlessly as things wormed into her head and mouth, and then
she was looking out of her own eyes, not the eyeholes of a much too large
suit. Her fingers flexed and the three digits suddenly felt utterly
natural as she formed them into a fist. And down at her groin, the heavy
dull weight had suddenly sprung to life, spreading tiny jolts of pleasure
through her form as it rose to full attention. Anya did not need to look
in a mirror to know what had happened. The suit still worked, she
thought, reaching down to stroke the manhood between her legs which was
now very real.
"Well den, looks like we be havin' a fun evenin' ahead of us," the young
troll man said, all thoughts of femininity thrown aside.
He grabbed his manhood and pumped with a content laugh and no concern
whatsoever for who could barge in or spy through the window. He spread
his lean, muscular legs wide, feeling the carpet tickle the thick soles
of his two-toed feet. The feeling of masculine virility, so long absent
from Anya's life, was heady and overwhelming. He loved the sensation of
his coarse fingers stroking his thick manhood and the deep, throaty sound
of his laughter. He could already feel the onrush of his first male
orgasm of the evening and that hot, insistent pressure was so satisfying
her had to bite his lower lip to stop himself from crying out. His back
arched backwards as he worked himself further, mental images of all of
Anya's frustrations dissipating under the sensation of pure,
unadulterated hedonistic pleasure. He was everything Anya Trueshield
wasn't, everything she repressed and shoved aside because of her duty, or
her sex, or her allegiance. He was her as a blank slate, a vessel for
simple, exuberant self-gratification.
The troll felt himself stiffen and then he came, pumping what felt like
an endless volcanic ejaculation out of his quivering member. He spilled
it on the bed sheets, the rug, and the furniture and on Anya's clothes
and armor, but he didn't care. He groaned as she leaned back, letting
passion rob him of every higher thought and concern. "Y-ya... did the
right ting..." he muttered as he felt the orgasm wash through him and
make every fibre of his lean, muscular body raw with ecstasy. With a
final, joyful spurt the troll collapsed back onto the bed, letting
himself trickle heedlessly onto the floor while he panted and stared up
at the ceiling. He had such ideas for the rest of the evening, and he
could barely decide which one to try first.
"Anya ol' gal... dis will be a night ta remember," the troll said and
laughed a simple, content laugh.
-End-
Virginia
- 14.06.2020
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