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Chapter Text

Lorewalking and Pillowtalking

From the Chronicled Wanderings of Kara Goldensong
Aspiring Lorewalker

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A Journey Well Worth the Troubles

The moments in a person’s life which never fail to bring a sense of joyful pride and which will one day flicker into thought preceding the first step into the world beyond this one are often private affairs. These cheerful anecdotes are shared across dinner tables or couches but are generally held close to a person’s chest.

These moments reveal more than we often think. Our collective histories, heritages, and cultures are built upon the legacies of such moments. Though we may disregard them as simple anecdotes, we cannot deny their importance to our personal growth. We are the product of numerous moments coalescing into our present character. And as we grow, we affect our community. Now, it may not be particularly large or important in our view, but our community does offer a sense of belonging and security to some degree. As we affect our community, it, in turn, affects or is affected by the larger environment it belongs to. An ever-complex series of connections can be drawn from our individual selves to the larger structure of the world we live in.

In this web of stories rests those important moments of our lives. Our personal threads entwine with numerous others and support a larger structure. Those moments speak of our communities, cultures, and tribes as much as they speak about us. For instance, when a man recalls his proposal to his darling wife on a small bridge overlooking a valley, he is, in effect, sharing a story of what his culture and community feel is the best practice and environment for proposing to a loved one.

So, what is the point of this long-winded musing? To simply say that I shared this belief that my life, my personal stories, were not important. I had always been fascinated with the stories others told but never found mine to be particularly of value. It took an extraordinary journey to find the value in not just my life story but my culture, my beliefs, and my body.

For three years I embarked on a journey far from my home on the golden plains of Kun Lai in search of non-traditional stories to share. My journey was one of personal interest stemming from family myths of ancestor Pandaren women who subverted their mogu masters through guile and romance. I was fascinated with tales of forced concubines and consorts plotting from within to topple warlords in the waning days of the mogu empire. These women used their wits and their bodies to achieve sizeable chunks of power at a time when Pandaren slaves were relatively powerless. Though they were brought in as tools for sex, they used sex as a tool to redefine their positions in mogu courts. The history of the Goldensongs is one of murder, sex, romance, and politics and it fascinated me to no end. When the time came in my Lorewalker training to compile suitable stories to house in the Seat of Knowledge, I knew instantly what my theme would be. For three years I wandered Azeroth in search of stories of people who used sex to define themselves and their positions in society.

Sex is power. Sex bares us to the world. The people who have sex participate in a dynamic relationship where power is shared, volunteered, given up, and more depending on the context. It can offer freedom to the chained, entertainment to the bored, and a path to the lost. Stories of sex are often kept heavily hidden. They are secreted away and only the bold or boastful discuss them. But these stories, like others, reveal power dynamics, heritage, and important moments of personal growth. Sex is one of the most intimate experiences people can participate in and is heavily influenced, and heavily influences, the cultures, and communities, which participate in the act. Which is almost all of them!

I had a mind to be objective when I started but that quickly went out the proverbial window. It is difficult to view sex from afar in intimate or social scenarios without becoming invested or entwined in some way. As a scholar, it was an enriching and enlightening experience. As a Pandaren, it was one of the most enjoyable and crazy three years of my life and I still find myself waking up wet from memories. From the dusty grasslands of the Barrens to decorated lounges of Stormwind estates to the mystical groves of Moonglade, I explored the sex cultures of Azeroth. I talked, listened, observed, and fucked my way through many lessons. It was fun!

And so we wind up here, dear reader, at the cusp of my tales. I promise that this is the most hyperbolic and scholarly that I will get in this work. You are not here for my musings on the cultural and historical significance of these tales, you are here for smut! I promise you smut, with just the barest analysis sprinkled in the intro of every section for flavor and ease of skipping, you dirty, dirty reader. These are my personal accounts, so I hope you forgive any lacking detail. I sometimes could not see who was behind me, for instance, though their enthusiasm was certainly felt and well received.

Relax your mind and your clothing as much as you wish, but I hope you take away one lesson: Your story is significant, no matter who you are. Be you a working girl doing her best to get by, or a young man exploring who he is or who he likes, or someone not entirely sure where they fit into the world, you matter. Keep those important personal moments close to your heart, but do not be afraid to share them. They say so much more than you know.

Enjoy yourself as much as I enjoyed myself.

Kara Goldensong

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Lorewalking and Pillowtalking

From the Chronicled Wanderings of Kara Goldensong
Aspiring Lorewalker

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Regarding the Profit Culture and Its Effects on Goblin Individualism

In a fluid classist society where capital directly correlates to social standing, those at the top often find themselves in inglorious situations. As freeing as profit can be from the stresses of life, new social stresses often rise in their place. A king does not worry about going hungry but does worry his meal is poisoned.

In goblin society, social stress manufactures a lack of individuality. The Moguls, Madames, Princes, Barons, and Tallests find themselves playing into stereotypes to protect themselves and their ventures. They are cutthroat, conniving, and impersonal. As often as we love to hate these types of people, they are still people and are products of their environment as much as they are perpetrators.

In Gadgetzan, a particular set of would-be Baronesses and a madame have found a particularly interesting way of escaping their status while honoring their working-class roots. In the same way, they subvert competitors to stay on top, they have successfully subverted social expectations. The result is as self-defining as it is messy.

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Stuck at the Top

There are two shining jewels of Tanaris: The ruins of Zul'Farrak which are slowly being consumed by the sands and the bustling trade city of Gadgetzan. The latter has transformed from a simple stop known for elixirs to a growing port town with the recent influx of Cartel activity around Kalimdor. As more goblins, gnomes, traders, and pirates make their way into the city it will adapt their cultures to its mold and produce something uniquely Gadgetese in the coming decades.

When I arrived in the city, I steered toward the bustling nightlife. I had heard tales of a weekly nightclub run in the local inn, but my interests led me to the more lurid events. Gentlegob clubs, high profile parties, and risque magazine photoshoots were top dockets on my agenda during my stay. Most of these were quite worth the price of admission (which was exorbitant) but you have not lived until you have downed coconut shots off the body of a goblin model.

But the party in this tale was not one designed for the higher classes. It was during a massage parlor social that I first learned of it. I was receiving a lovely massage alongside Madame Dezmona Tassletop, a former working girl turned madame who was responsible for arranging many upper-class dates.

Dezmona had recognized me at several parties and asked was curious as to why an unpaid Pandaren would be at so many in a month. So, I told her of my journey, my reasons, and gave rather lurid details of my travels to pique her interest. The lewdness was the right call. She had a purr in her throat as I finished my tale of the troll in Stranglethorn and gave only a moment's thought before inviting me to a soiree she was hosting the next night upon a ship.
"I think you'll find it more up your alley than anything you'll get with this crowd," she assured us we both rolled onto our backs at the end of our massage. I eagerly accepted and took her hand as our masseuses slipped between our legs to unofficially seal our deal.

The next day rolled on uneventfully until the time came to wander to the docks. The party was to be held on a steamship and when I arrived I found less of a ship and more of a floating club. Colored lights were strung across the deck, illuminating a polished dance floor and bar. A crew of goblins was hurriedly preparing the final touches before the event was set to start simultaneously checking lights, sound levels, filling kegs, and tossing unneeded items overboard.
Dezmona had invited me to arrive early, though in the throes of our thorough massage did not explain why. I stepped aboard and pestered the least busy looking goblin I found about where I could find the hostess.

"Oh yeah. The boss said to keep a lookout for a Pandaren. Head down to the mid-deck, last door on the left. She's waitin'." He pointed me to a corridor and I made my way down as the crew continued their work.

The interior was low lit by colored lamps of blue and green that painted the inside an eerie hue. Numerous doors lined the hall and goblins continued moving things to and fro within the rooms. Peeking in on a particularly curious room, I saw a wall lined with cushioned holes. Two goblin women seemed to inspect them while taking notes, but I continued on my way before they noticed me staring. A dull hum of excited chatter grew into a high-pitched choir as I finally reached the end of the hall. There amidst a garishly decorated dressing room stuffed with mirrors, dressers, and small loveseats were at least twenty goblin and vulpera ladies in various states of dress.

What a colorful and spunky scene it was. A pair of vulpera modeled boa after boa in search of the right fit. A curvy goblin girl wiggled into a set of fishnet stockings to match her mesh top as a similarly dressed friend watched. Others helped each other cinch up corsets, fix hair, and apply makeup or veils. The room oozed excitement.

It was then that I noticed a curious thing. A few faces were familiar. VERY familiar. They were the faces of socialites I had seen at high-profile gatherings. The vulpera were new additions, but there was no mistaking the goblins. One, in particular, brightened as she noticed me in the doorway.

“Hey, you made it! C’mon in!" Dezmona waved me in as she finished tidying her hair. "You're just in time to get ready."

"Ready?" I entered slowly and received friendly smiles and waves from the familiar girls. A bundle of clothing slapped against my face and broke me out of my quiet gawking.

“Put these on! They should fit ya.”

I blinked and raised the clothing to inspect it. It was a golden Pandaren style qipao, though cut very short. It had come with a pair of black, sheer, and crotchless panties. They were trimmed with gold lace and toed the line between ornate and slutty. My cheeks burned beneath the fur and the collected women giggled as realization dawned on my face.

“That’s right. You’re gonna participate, doll. Ain’t really fair if you’re standin’ by watchin’, y’know?”

“That is fair...but what is all this? You never really explained.”

“Welllll…” she trailed off with a grin, coyly drumming a fingertip against her cheek. “Change and I’ll tell while we get ready!”

And so I wiggled myself out of my simple travel gear and bared my bear body for the women to see. What I had wandered into was a party for the working class. Gals and guys, mechanics, prostitutes, alchemists, barbers, and more had been invited to a private engagement thrown by Dezmona and this small circle of socialites. There was music, free drinks, and exhibitionist activities galore all as a way of giving thanks to the workers. It was also an excuse for these socialites to throw away the shackles of their status for a night of anonymity. To cavort and cajole with the goblins they were once a part of and ignore the social delicacies that constrained them. Hedonism with purpose, if you will.

As Dezmona told her story, more and more veils and some eye masks passed between the group. Each woman took care in at least creating a sense of plausible deniability for their participation in this party. The world of high life goblin society was cutthroat. Any rumored attendance, let alone enjoyment, of a working-class party would be fuel for enemies and rivals. To show my solidarity, I donned a gold veil myself.

I was bathed in small clouds of perfume, groomed until my fur was shiny, and had my hair pulled into a bun and set in place by a pair of chopsticks before marching out with the women. Many went their separate ways but myself, Dezmona, and a few other goblins and vulpera marched to the curious room I had seen before. Dezmona chatted with the girls while I pondered the purpose of the wall a little more closely. When faced with the cushion lined holes cut into the face, I realized what my role was to be that night.

Each woman set herself into place in what amounted to a full-body stockade. Two walls separated by enough space to rest a torso made up the trap. My head was exposed in one room, my ass and legs in another, while my belly laid across a cushioned table between.
We were arranged in alternate patterns of heads to bottoms. I nestled my neck against the constraint and looked around the room I was in. Beside me were the dangling butts of a vulpera and a deep green goblin gal. Beyond them, I could see the veiled and masked heads of a few other women who were chatting across the butts to each other. As I was getting used to the position, Dezmona came in and gave me a sly grin.

"I gotta go play hostess. Don't worry, we do alternating shifts for the wall. You'll be let out in a few hours. ...if the gals with the keys don't get distracted, of course." Her grin grew wicked and sharp nail-tipped fingers caressed my cheek. "Hope this gives you a good story to tell." Music above deck began to thrum and voices began to echo loudly down the halls. Dezmona took that as her cue and left to the upper deck.

"Pssst. Hey, Pandaren!" A vulpera called out. "Word of advice! Don't try to swallow the early birds! You'll get a tummy ache by the end of it!" A choir of giggles echoed around me and I couldn't help but join.

More and more voices gathered above. Soon the air was filled with music, chants, and the stomping feet of the workers of Gadgetzan. They were having the times of their lives.
I heard the first sets of visitors enter the room behind me and my heart began to flutter. There were murmurs, low whistles, and then the first set of rough hands slapped across my plump rear. A delighted hum escaped me and I wiggled my butt to entice my first visitor.

To be stuck in a position like this was humiliating, disempowering, yet undeniably thrilling. The socialites beside me had cast off their status for a night of anonymous pleasure. Reduced from a boss to a slut. Here I was, a Lorewalker, a historian, a storyteller of cultural importance stuck in a wall and acting as a toy for this worker's enjoyment. My dress was rolled over my hips and a thick cock slapped across my exposed black lips. I could feel my lips cling to the underside of his cock, already wet from the position I was in. As the first moans of delight began to fill my room my visitor stuffed themselves deep inside me. They certainly weren’t gifted in size, but we're definitely enthusiastic. Just a few moments into their frantic thrusts and I was chewing my lower lip to stifle my pleasured mewls.

The claps of flesh on flesh and the pleasured moans of the women beside me grew more intense with every passing second. My toes flexed and my nethers squeezed down on my goblin ravager's cock. Soon enough, he leaned heavily upon my ass as hot, sticky cum erupted deep into my cunny. Just as quick as he had entered he was gone, leaving me wet and wanting more. I did not have to wait long. A second eager cock replaced the first without a moment's hesitation and began to ravish me anew. Fingers sunk into my rump for purchase as my new visitor took his fill of my cunny.

It was then the door opened before me and the first goblins began arriving on the other side of the wall. My hair was jostling as I gave a shy smile beneath my veil to the newcomers.

"Hey, they got a new gal. They went all out this time!" Laughter followed as men and women trickled into the room to admire the displays.

A rough-looking boy sauntered up to me and I better my eyes playfully in response to his lecherous gaze. "Fuzzballs are a new addition this time. Might as well give the biggest one a go first." His belt clattered as it came undone and he slipped free a rather generous amount of cock right against my face.

I gave my most alluring growl before kissing his meat through my veil. Teasing him with silkened lips as the goblin behind me slammed his cock home and flooded my womb with the second load of the night. My mind barely registered the moment as the goblin at my mouth gave an impatient huff and thrust his cock beneath my veil past my lips. The silk tented lewdly before my gaze and I hummed around the musky length now insistently rolling across my tongue.

His hand found my bun and held firmly as he began to rock his hips forward. Each thrust angled his cock in a new direction, bulging my cheeks, and invading my throat. For my part, I was not idle and quickly bobbed my head as best I could. Lavishing his cock with my tongue and not once taking my eyes from his. It seemed to have an effect and he quickly began to thrust faster. A lewd, wet slap echoed out from beneath my veil and I could feel strings of spit drool onto the floor below.

Beside me, goblins were eagerly rutting into the behinds of the other girls. Behind me, two soft fingers spread sticky cum along my puckered hike before their prick stuffed it full. And before me, I looked into the gruff, pleasured face of a goblin as he let out a low moan and pulled his cock free from my mouth. The head of his dick laid stop my tongue as he unloaded a thick load into my mouth. A few shots splashed directly down my throat but the majority simply pooled stop my tongue and nestled in my cheeks. As he watched, I swished my tongue around my mouth to make sure I gathered every last drop before swallowing it all.

"Hey, hey. Not afraid of a stomach ache I see." I blinked at that. "Not too bad for a fuzzball, neither. I'll be sure to check your ass out next." He ruffled my hair and stepped away, leaving me with just a moment to enjoy the cock in my butt. Whoever was behind me knew what they were doing. Each thrust slammed against a sensitive spot in my rear. My legs curled upwards and my toes flexed in utter delight. Soft, breathy moans were escaping me once again and I felt the first orgasm of the night finally coming on.

Before I had the chance to voice my pleasure, an aqua skinned goblin girl took hold of my hair as she stuffed a thick cock into my mouth. Her rod muffled my moan, giving it a throaty reverb as spasms rocked through my body. The girl before me grinned as she realized my predicament and quickly took charge of using my mouth as her personal sleeve.

Her cock was laced with the nectar of a goblin. No doubt she has just finished fucking a girl beside me and decided to clean her cock the best way she knew how. As my eyes fluttered upwards, a sharp sting in my ass brought me back to Azeroth. The cheeky prick behind me spanked me! Hard claps rained down on my rear and left hot, stinging prints in their wake. It thrilled me.

The pain behind me was intensified by the goblin before me taking her cock from my lips and resting it against my face. Without a word, she began to frot against my fuzzy cheek and about, smearing me with my own spot and her wild, musky scent. Humiliating as it was, I couldn't get enough. I breathed deep of the alluring aroma and let out a deep, needy moan as it yours with the most sensitive parts of my senses.

"Knew...all you fuzzbutts loved smells. Nnnn...I'll leave you with something nice to stew in then."

By sheer coincidence, the girl before me and the goblin behind me marked me at the same time. As cum flooded my belly it painted my face, oozing into my fur and eventually gluing my veil to one cheek. I panted needily. Cum dripped from my snout and chin and leaked from my abused ass. I was left a mess by five goblins and it had been just under an hour. I loved it.

I am uncertain how much time I spent in the wall. Cock after cock replaced the ones that came before. While one man slammed into my throat, another was testing the softness of my foot paws. A set of twins alternated which cock I pleased with my tongue, then I suspect the same pair double stuffed my nethers a little later. It was a food tray's view of a buffet. One by one, men and women would line up to take their fill and move on. Turning me from a storied adventurer to a nameless cocksleeve.

By the end of my tenure, my brown fur was a sticky off white. My veil was a useless clump of silk. My hair fell around my face in wild tangles. And I could feel the river of cum flowing down my thighs. I was a sticky, well-used mess.

The last customer of the wall was a vulpera who was having trouble disentangling himself from the goblin beside me. With a loud, wet pop he pulled free and left the girl shuddering where she dangled. With the last customer out of the room, I let loose a weary but pleased sigh. The music above died down to a low thrum and the raucous voices had long settled down. The party seemed to be winding down for the night.

The clicking of heels perked my ears and I looked up to see Dezmona and a giggling vulpera standing in the doorway. They both looked far more disheveled than at the start of the evening. Nude save for her heels and porcelain eyemask, Dezmona gave me a wicked grin as she stepped into the room.

My eyes graced her body as the vulpera who had entered with her began to help the others out of the wall. She stepped forward and caressed my sticky cheek with the back of her fingers.

"Looks like you had some fun." The same could be said of her. Her makeup was smeared and soft, blue kiss marks peppered her body. Between her thighs, a thick stream of cum bubbled from her green folds. She was a mess but wore it proudly.

With little warning, Dezmona gripped my hair and tugged my head into the perfect angle to smother my snout with her sex. I huffed in her scent. The perfumes from earlier were all but gone, overpowered by the musk of sweat, sex, and cum. A deep, hungry growl sigh escaped me. I will admit, I am a sucker for powerful scents, and the one that invaded my nose glazed my eyes and sent my tongue across the goblins quim.

Dezmona shuddered and let out a husky groan as she held my head firmly in place. Her back arched, and her free hand was set upon her hip, striking a powerful pose. My tongue lashed at her folds, her thighs, and her still aching clit as I dutifully cleaned her of the night’s mess. As I grew drunk off her lewd cocktail, behind me could feel many soft hands running across my butt as a gaggle of goblins and vulpera admired what the night had wrought.

A whimper escaped me and I admit feeling the slightest bit of shame as a thought entered my mind. I want more… My tongue kicked into a frenzy. Encircling, curling, lashing at every inch of the matron's sex as she stood on increasingly shaking legs. Her grip on my hair tightened, her casual tugs forward more directed, and soft, breathy pants began to escape her lips.

At long last, my own lips captured her clit and I suckled relentlessly upon her sensitive button. It was finally enough to lurch her forward and jerk her hips against my face as she came. A jet of nectar splashed against my lips and dribbled down my chin in a lewd river. I slowed my movements, taking the time to merely clean Dezmona of the new mess I had made as she gathered her breath.

"Next time," she gasped, "you're definitely sticking with me all night."

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My night of use had been more eye-opening than the women probably expected. Where they saw a chance to escape the constraints if high society, I saw a yearning for more social freedom. Disempowering themselves in the wall or playing the part of a service girl is not merely a way to show an appreciation for a life once lived. It shows nostalgia for simpler times in their lives. They want to enjoy themselves without worrying about a dagger in their back. They want to show the workers appreciation and solidarity, yet cannot openly. To imbibe in sex in this manner allows them to sacrifice their unwanted social graces in exchange for a night of satisfaction both in body and mind.

Sex is a tool of escape. In a society that upholds strict individualism, these women use their wealth to appease the workers. They subvert the demands of goblin high society to relive their pasts and give back to the people in a less overt way.

As I wrote my concluding thoughts on the night I peered up into the darkened doorway of my room. Dezmona had invited me to stay onboard to bathe and rest, and I had graciously accepted. I decided to take the time to take note of the night, but that had been interrupted. My door had swung open and the silhouette of a wet goblin stood in the dim aqua light of the hall. Steam rose off her body and only a small towel kept her modest. When the towel hit the floor I decided to pick up my note-taking another time.

Kara Goldensong

Chapter Text

Lorewalking and Pillowtalking

From the Chronicled Wanderings of Kara Goldensong
Aspiring Lorewalker

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Regarding Dwarven Unemployment Practices in Ironforge
What is a prostitute? A woman who sells her body for money, traditionally. But where does the trade stop defining the activity? Is a woman who exchanges a free dinner and a show for a blowjob a prostitute? Is a woman who sells her body for a week of groceries in a time between jobs a prostitute? The term and the activity is far more fluid than we think.

In Ironforge, this fluidity is fully on display. Battlemaidens, sharpshooters, pilots, and more are often displaced during the lulls of war. Many who had left their workshops, bakeries, and other trade positions returned to find the positions filled. As armies downsize, they equally find themselves with no job beyond simple mercenary work which does not appeal to some.

This account chronicles my interaction with a few such dwarves. These warrior women found their previous positions filled or their skills no longer needed after returning from a year abroad. To afford a night’s fun, they turned to an age-old trade.

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Charity Dwarves

"Aye, I blew 'im. Worth ev'ry drink, it was." Thurdran grinned at me before she tossed back her third pint of the evening. Around me, a chorus of chuckles rang out even as she continued, "It’s not like I’m a goblin tart, though, y’know?"

"Aye!" Desna chipped in with her rather sing-song tone. "We ain't lookin' to do this forever. Just gotta pass the' time somehow!" Murmured agreements and nods rolled through the small crowd of women gathered at the table. Not a face among them showed shame or embarrassment. Theirs was not a sad lot in life, simply an inconvenienced one.

I had found these women through general research in the area. Many of the senators and nobles of the city were quick to dismiss my questions regarding love and sex, but the common folk abounded in tales and rumors. Of my interest were those of nobles who had been seen in the company of women who, in weeks prior, were soldiers or healers on battlefields. They had traded their armor for fashionable dresses. Their rations for fine meals. Their canteens for golden ales.

At first, I had the mind to dismiss these women as simple courtesans. I figured they had simply fallen to the trade after finding out what it could afford them. But when I brought this observation up with the locals they scoffed! "Lass, if they catch you sayin' that you'll catch a fist in th' gut," remarked an older dwarf to me at an inn. “They got an air about ‘em,” he continued, “don’t like no one callin’ them whores.” Many others responded in the same way the more I asked around. That aroused my curiosity. Who were these women who did not consider themselves courtesans? I had to find out!

The locals pointed me to a popular bar where these ex-soldiers and healers were known to congregate in the Commons. I found it easily enough and brought along as much gold as I hoped would entertain them long enough to tell me their tales. By the early evening, the bar in question had already begun to grow rowdy. No small amount was attributed to a small crowd of dwarven women upon the top floor balcony. Thick hips swayed to and fro upon the railing to the lively tunes belted by a duo of bards somewhere within the bar itself. A dark iron woman with a cropped mohawk and numerous scars stood upon the rail itself. Clothed in no more than a cropped shirt tied just below her bust and tight shorts, she wiggled her generous rear for all to see while shooting winks to passersby who caught her gaze (myself included). The rest were a collection of bronze and dusky-skinned dwarven maidens; Bronzebeards and Wildhammers that were dressed in open shoulder dresses, small tunics or shirts, and hip-hugging shorts. Certainly not dressed as professional courtesans would be. They were enjoying themselves as much as they were teasing the street crowd and incoming patrons.

I wound my way through the revelry of the lower floor with some effort. Thick aromas of ale, meat, and sweat hung heavy in the air and more than a few times I found myself pushed against a stone wall as drunken rowdiness turned into a fistfight. Still, I made my way to the balcony only slightly bruised and was pleased to find myself welcomed by the party of women. I had come prepared and bought the group a few extra rounds though the exact number is...hazy. For a good two hours, I drank and swayed with them as they warmed up to me. Pint by pint, they opened up as I did and as the third hour came around I had tied my top under my bust and properly joined the party.

The next few hours are a happy blur. As the music blared from below I shimmied and swayed with the stout, busty lasses. More than once I was sandwiched between their smaller forms, slowly slipping my paws down their sides while more than a few hands ran across my own soft curves. Thick fingers dug into my ass and tugged at my thighs as we danced in a lovely addled haze of ale and cider. What I remember clearly is the mohawked Dark Iron grinning at me from her perch atop the rail. Her left leg was crossed over the right and she leaned back dangerously over the side, though her body did not quake in the slightest from fear. Beside her, a copper-toned dwarf with golden twin braids leaned beside her murmuring as they watched me and their companions dance.

Personal space was forgotten as we enjoyed the music and each other. Ale was shared through pints and kisses as our frenzied grinding grew ever wilder upon the makeshift dance floor. More than once did a strong set of hands slip under my shorts and top to grope at the furry flesh beneath. And more than once did I have to stifle a deep, rumbling moan as rough fingers pinched at the sensitive spots they found. The burning orbs of the Dark Iron never left my body, even as her friends so openly began to toy with me as we danced. As the night wore on, my clothing wore thin. The simple green silk top I had entered with had become a wrinkled, disheveled mess that left little to the imagination. It grew sheerer and sheerer with the amount of spilled ale and sweat that was rolling across it. My brown shorts rode tight against my rump and all-but disappeared a few times when I tossed my butt back for the dwarves to enjoy.

It was close to three when the music and rowdiness began to die down. The ale had run thin and one by one my dance partners fell to the wayside and watched as myself and one last frisky woman slowly swayed together until the bards had finally ceased their tunes. Our mini-party was over, and so was most of my buzz, and as we all relaxed upon the balcony I finally began to gently prod the group with questions.

Their lips were loose and they were more than happy to inform me of their rather unique dating habits. "We ain't whores," the twin braided woman named Thurdran, explained. "Sure, we get frisky for some nice meals or clothes, but it’s different!"

"How?" I asked.

"We ain’t lookin’ to pay rent, just have some good times," chipped in an ebon tressed dwarf.

"Plus, we got standards!" cut in another.

A chorus of "Yeah!" then filled the air as the women looked around and nodded to one another. I snickered and reclined against the stone wall that was serving as my chair for the evening. A lovely redheaded priestess (whose name escapes me) and a rather stocky battle maiden with a curly brown mane (whose name I have also sadly forgotten) were my designated cuddle buddies for the evening.

The women explained their situations the night wore on. Each was displaced from their work, but they still wanted to be able to enjoy themselves without dipping into their meager savings. So, they turned to simple favor exchange. It’s rather ingenious. From their choice in partner to how they repay them, these women held the power in determining what a night on the town is worth.

Our conversations dwindled with our group size as one by one the women turned in for the night. Each one gave me a soft peck on the cheek, a squeezing hug, or a friendly grope as they left thankful for the dances and drinks I had provided. The last two to leave were my cuddle buddies. The stocky maiden slunk from my grasp and gently slung her redheaded companion over a shoulder after the gentle girl had fallen asleep in my arms. The last I saw of them was the swaying form of the napping dwarf jostling down the stairs as I turned to the remaining two dwarves of the night: Thurdran and the still-unnamed Dark Iron.

Both grinned at me, but it was the Dark Iron who spoke first. “You showed our girls a nice time tonight. An’ didn't ask for anything '’cept for our stories?. Interesting Pandaren.”

Her voice was alluring, smoky, yet not as rough as one would expect of the deep-dwelling folk. She brushed a hand through the ashen crest upon her head as a Cheshire grin crept over her face.

“What Hass’s suggestin’ here," Thurdran cut in, "is that we show you a bit o’ gratitude, miss.” Now it was the Wildhammer’s turn to grin. The pair shared a look and Hass, as the Dark Iron was now known to me, brashly tugged her companion close by her collar as she muttered something to her.

As for myself, I was a mess of nerves. Despite my boldness on the dancefloor, being confronted with an unknown gift from these two women was, frankly, incredibly arousing. Several of my adventures had led to sex by this point, sure, but the way these two so confidently controlled the situation...well, you can't blame a girl for getting excited!

They both pushed away from the balcony’s rail and sauntered towards me. My heart began to race. I sat upright as the pair fell to their knees and straddled my legs. Their warm thighs clamped down around my furred legs, locking the women in place as they began to tease. Plump, wet lips gently graced the furred flesh of my thighs. Rough hands rolled across my legs and belly, slowly displacing the useless fabric that was keeping me modestly modest. Soft, pleased murmurs and growls escaped me as I tilted my head back against the stone. I brought my paws up and cradled the backs of their heads as their gentle touches mapped every supple curve on my body.

I was enraptured. My hips rose without thought as they pride away my simple shorts and left me fully exposed. Their fingers grew bolder, needier. They pinched at my stiffening nipples and rolled across my sex in ever-quickening patterns. My breaths caught, my legs widened, and but I wanted more. Encouraging growls escaped me as they began to truly play with me.

My paws began to blindly explore their bodies as their lewd suckling soon began to fill the air around us. Their strong, stocky forms were surprisingly soft and I indulged in their cushy rears. My fingers sunk into their flesh, leaving small marks where my claws stroked and where my palms clapped down. They were soft dough in my grasp prime for kneading.

Their mouths were relentless and restless. With my eyes closed, I could only gather who was where from their subtle patterns. Hass was bold. She tugged at my nipples with her teeth and quickly began to explore my body without hesitation. Each spank I gave only drove her lower until at last, I could feel her arms encircle my thighs and pull them tight against her shoulders. Her tongue slipped across my sodden sex and coaxed a low, shuddering moan from me. My feet pressed down on her back and I curled my toes against her dusky skin for grip as she began to hungrily eat me out.

Thurdran, for her part, was far gentler. She suckled at my girls in such a delicate manner it almost tickled. Though her hands felt rougher than the Dark Iron's they moved with such sensual grace that I couldn't help but shudder. Her mouth slipped upwards and peppered my chest, shoulders, neck, then finally my own lips with such tenderness I could feel myself melting. Soon her thighs clutched my sides and her fingers clutched my cheeks as she pulled me into long, sweet embraces which stifled my mewls.

Tenderness and hunger. A soft tongue slipped against my own and around my sensitive folds. Soft nibbles graced my lower lip and sharp suckles teased my throbbing clit. I cannot honestly recall how long those two led me towards the edge of my orgasm, but it was not a short process. I laid there as a subject of their affection, weakly squeezing their asses and backs as my climax rolled ever closer. I felt utterly adored. Aroused. Enamored. Loved.

It was during a brief respite of kissing that I finally felt myself cum. I was panting and a slick trail of spit connected our tongues for the briefest of moments before it fell away. My eyes had locked with Thurdrans and I could see my needy face reflected in those verdant pools. Hass's tongue curled along my clit in just the right way, then, and I could not help the eruption of quivers which assaulted my body. Thurdran silenced me with another long kiss for which I was silently grateful as I could feel my convulsions grow wilder. My legs tightened against Hass's form and I reached down to claw at her white crest of hair needily. She worked her tongue all through my orgasm, drawing it out until I was left limp and sensitive against the stone wall.

We laid there for some time after. Hass dutifully cleaned the tangy mess I had made of my thighs while Thurdran slowly slipped to my side. The dark Iron crawled up after and soon I was flanked and embracing each woman in turn. Their hands continued to caress my fur tenderly (at least, as tender as Hass could manage) as I relished the lingering sensations in my loins.

At some point, I fell into a light nap and woke to the sounds of the early morning tavern crowd readying for the new days. The pair were still clutched to my sides snoring not-so-softly, though they did not rouse as I slipped away to pull my clothes back on. I took notes of my thoughts and the encounter while they slept but did not leave them until Hass awoke.

In the moments just before I left her with the still snoozing Thurdran she left me with a last bit of insight. "Th' working girls hate us, y'know. Say we treat sex like good works 'cause we don't take money. Funny, that."

She grinned. With her arms crossed behind her head, she reclined against the wall and muttered a final "See ya around, Kara."

---

The night I had shared with those hard-working, hard-playing women of the military was one well worth having again. The pair which chose to reward me are still close friends of mine, though we have not shared an encounter like that since. Of course, I would need to give them a reason too.

These women have defined themselves through the way they use sex and sexuality to their benefit. Dating is as much an exercise of independence as it is a relationship-building ritual. It's impressive!

My time in Ironforge afforded me many folk treasures. My research into love and sex turned up numerous tales of heartless senators whose wives fell for their more noble clerks. Of lovesick masons whose marble sculptures came to life to be with them. Numerous stories which speak of equal or male-driven affection.

But in the cases of Hass, Thurdran, and numerous nameless maidens there is a different tale to tell. One of dynamic, female-driven relationships that are not driven by need, but a desire for fulfillment. Where the working girl sees profit, the charity girl sees a good time.

Kara Goldensong

Chapter Text

Lorewalking and Pillowtalking

From the Chronicled Wanderings of Kara Goldensong
Aspiring Lorewalker

___

Regarding Fluidity in Sin'Dorei Society

Nothing is set in stone, as the saying goes. History is affected by memory and perspective. Kingdoms change hands. Cities rise and fall. Magic ebbs and wanes. People are no different in their malleability.

At some point in their stories, many cultures developed gendered rules and identities for dress, work, and manners. But people did not take kindly to that. There are plenty of tales, and plenty more rumors, of those who ignored the rules of their societies. To think that societal constructs such as work, dress, and manners are innate is to be ignorant of our creative control. History has shown that these rules differ from culture to culture and era to era. Masculine becomes feminine becomes neutral and back again through nothing more than the passage of time.

Magic and alchemy have opened many doors wider than ever. Transmogrification frees us to be who we truly are, whether for fulfillment or fun. What roles we take on, what sensations we encounter, what lives we live can be changed in an instant for a day, a week, a lifetime.

In Silvermoon, an annual gathering is held that encourages its attendees to forget the lessons of their cultures. It is a party of exploration and sensuality. An orgy of philosophical intrigue. Sex is an act of self-discovery. The power of sex is in its ability to shape and reshape perspectives on one’s self and on others.
---

Mirrors

There is no greater icon of change than Silvermoon. Its people, its source of life, even its allegiances have shifted many times over the years. “Fairweather” would be a rude way to describe it. “Adaptable” is the preference.

I could have spent my entire journey in Silvermoon. The variety of opinions, practices, and beliefs that inundated the city could fill volumes. This tale is about one that encapsulates the nature of the city and its denizens the best. It speaks to the history of the city, its people, and the very essence of who we are as individuals. It is a unique event that invites introspection, curiosity, and acceptance of oneself and others.

The estate of Lana’enos is lavish indeed. It rests within an upper tower that overlooks the Court of the Sun. It is far removed from the noise of the streets yet the main chamber allows a clear view of the city. It is here that a party is held for the Horde and Alliance. Sin’dorei, Shal’dorei, Quel'dorei, Ren'dorei, orcs, Draenei, nearly every race was represented by the guest list the night I attended.

These were men and women with means and connections to frequent such circles. Merchants, adventurers, nobles, even priests were in attendance. Money was not a barrier to entry. In fact, the only barrier seemed to be cleanliness. What kept it interesting was the guest rotation. One could not participate more than twice in a row, meaning more often than not there was a mix of new and old participants each time.

I had found my way to the party through my friend Bileux Wintersky, a rather vivacious Shal’dorei who enjoyed the wilder side of life. Though pretentious at times, she was a kind, impish soul.

“You’ll love it, Kara. Nothing but revelry and exploration. It is so you.” she told me as she pushed me out of my small inn room and into the streets of the city. She had hardly told me of the party’s existence before she dragged me off for a quick fitting in the hours before it was to begin.

At dusk, I stood in a tight black dress amongst well-connected elves in a lavish lounging room. The space was adorned with an array of cushions, love seats, and comfortable rugs. Drapes of blue and gold hung from the ceiling and created a thin barrier between the room and a spacious balcony overlooking the Court of the Sun. Enchanted candles floated delicately in the air while waiterless trays of water, wine, and other refreshments kept the guests happy. A raven haired harpist played a soft melody in a corner of the room as the guests filtered in and mingled. Some lounged in the cushions and couches, others gazed across the shadowed courtyard from the balcony. Friends chatted softly while newcomers stood quietly by the side or were being introduced to numerous others.

Which is what happened to me. Bileux dragged me around while introducing me to elves whose names have since passed from my mind. I am sure they will not mind me saying that here, though. In truth, each of us was waiting for the night to fully begin.

The music trailed to a halt and the Sin’dorei harpist clapped her hands to gain the attention of the guests. “May I present Lana’enos.” She bowed and gestured toward a small doorway at the far end of the room where stood a slender Sin’dorei draped in golden silk. Their long hair was a deep red and pulled away from their smooth face. When first I saw them, I caught myself gasping. They held a subtle beauty and stood with the poise of a noble though did not wear the extravagant trappings of one. As though they rebelled against their own status.

Bilieux leaned toward me and whispered softly as they moved closer to the crowd. "They're a fun sort. Old Highborne blood but they threw it all away when they decided to live in the open." I nodded and listened intently as Lana'enos got into place.

They bowed low and spoke in a soft, sweet tone that still carried across the crowd. “Friends known and new, I welcome you to my home.” We clapped as they strode across the room and greeted those along their path. It was their confidence that captured me. The silk they wore was practically sheer, yet they held themself as though dressed in their evening best. They bore themselves to the world without fear.

At last, they made their way to a large banquet table covered in a sheet of purple silk. The crowd grew visibly excited and several elves took a few steps forward before stopping themselves.

“I can see your anticipation, dear friends, but let us take a moment to enlighten those who are joining us today. You may have been told that this was a party of pleasure. That those gathered around you are willing and wanting.” There were chuckles and Lana’enos smiled knowingly across the crowd. “That is true, have no doubts. But we here, each of us, to partake in more than just feeling pleasure. We seek to better understand ourselves.”

They pulled the sheet from the table and I stepped forward to get a better view of its contents. Vials. Vials upon vials of unknown potions covered the surface, arranged in delicate displays upon crystal platters and decorated with a dark sash of cloth. The glass on each was tinted, giving no hint toward the color of the liquid inside.

“We are here to experience a night of pleasure as another. Another sex. Another race. Free to bring out a side of yourself you hide from others. Or even yourself.” They pulled a potion from the table and walked toward the harpist. “In doing so, we expand our empathy and I hope you take these lessons away with you into the world."

The harpist and they locked fingers and smiled sweetly at one another before Lana’enos gently guided the potion to her lips. The faintest whimper escaped the woman as she drank. It was enticing. An almost dominating act, yet performed with such sensuality and familiarity that it was as though watching two lovers share a deep embrace.

When the harpist finished, Lana’enos stood to her side and motioned out to the table with one arm. “Please, pick a potion. Just one. Transformations have a tendency to be permanent if you mix them.” I blinked at that yet Bileux tugged me forward by my elbow before I could get a word out.

“C’mon, Kara. You’ll love this. It’s like a masquerade party only far more mysterious! Here is mine,” she took a flask from the table, “and this is yo--” a gentle hand grabbed her wrist.

“My dear Bileux, you know to let our newcomers pick for themselves. Let Fate have its say.” Lana’enos smiled and gently caressed Bileux’s wrist in such a way I could see a shudder roll up her spine.

“Y-yes. Of course,” she bowed her head and stood aside. From that quick interaction, she was blushing a deep violet which caught me off guard. Her confidence had always been unwavering since I had met her, yet this elf just made her melt. It was terribly intriguing.

A hand gently pressed against the small of my back and guided me toward the table during my musing. “Please, make your choice. It has been some time since we have had a Pandaren join us in our revelry. Welcome, dear…?”

“Kara,” I offered with a small bow.

“Welcome, dear Kara.” They smiled and tucked a stray hair behind my ear before leaving me at the table. I caught myself leaning towards them as they left, as if reluctant to let them slip away. In all my travels, I have yet to find another person so alluring as Lana’enos. Sexy, yes. Confident, yes. But this elf was something else. I had never wanted someone more than them. As I stood there clutching my vial, I hoped they would be receptive to me later in the night.

Bileux’s nudging roused me from my senses and I quickly moved away from the table to make room for the other guests. I inspected my vial with much curiosity. It seemed innocent enough and a sniff of its contents gave away little save for hints of a tangy berry. I drank it in one go and was pleasantly surprised at its delicate flavor.

"Once you have imbibed, please remove your clothing and apply a blindfold. Trust your fellow guests not to steal from you as we move you around. As I trust you not to forget your clothing before you leave tomorrow. Some of you have awful fashion sense." Chuckles rolled through the crowd as we each began to disrobe. I felt rather exposed, to be honest. Standing as the only chubby furball amongst so many lithe and bulky figures was intimidating. Bileux seemed to sense my nerves and gave my butt a quick slap of confidence.

"Don't worry. You won't be the only Pandaren here in a few moments." She shot me a wink before applying her blindfold and I couldn't help but admire her body as she did. The light caught her mana tattoos perfectly, and the deep blue hue of her skin contrasted well with the vibrant golds of the room. Stunning.

I applied my blindfold and was led away from the comfort of my friend. From the fresh breeze that struck my face, I could tell I was moved to the balcony. But now, I was surrounded by strangers.

Then I felt something. It was subtle at first, nothing more than a slight tingling under my fur and a gurgling in my belly. Then all at once, my body convulsed. It was not painful, but incredibly uncomfortable like stretching your arms back farther than you should. My skin grew hot, my joints popped, and I could feel my body shrink beneath my skin. It is a strange sensation and I suppose something akin to a Worgen’s transformation. I gasped, heard my voice grow a tinge deeper, and felt the cold night air far more than before. More noticeable was the new additions n I could feel between my legs. My body had changed.

"You may now remove your blindfolds, my dears."

Where once was Kara the Pandaren girl now stood Kara the blood elf man. My hair was long, golden, and fell wildly around my face. I was lithe with some muscle though I didn't feel overly strong. But what truly caught my attention was the elven cock that had replaced my cunny. I squeaked in joy and gave it a testing stroke only to gasp as pleasure rolled through my body. The giggles of other guests on the balcony stayed my hand for the moment, but how could I not play with my new self?

With me were a tall orcish woman with azure skin, a looming black-furred Worgen man, and a green Zandalari woman. Where I would have measured up to these three before, I felt utterly dwarfed by them now. The orcish woman seemed especially amused by my exploration and shit a teasing look my way as our eyes met. Beyond them, the room was full of new faces. A small gnomish girl was chewing her finger and glancing between two towering trolls. A Pandaren man was poking at his belly and giggling cutely. A Dark Iron dwarf was feeling up her ass. An orc was wiggling his toes. A Tauren was swishing her tail. Each of us had changed into someone different.

"Dear friends." Lana’enos stepped forward. "You each have become someone new. You will remain this way for the rest of the night. Do not be ashamed or shy. Simply enjoy." With that, they bowed low and lounged upon an armless couch to watch the night's proceedings.

Before I could move the orc was upon me. She hugged herself against my back and gripped at my cock with a lustful growl. That strong, rough hand squeezed hard and drew out my voice in a low moan. She began to stroke me from behind as her husky voice slipped into my ear. “You’re so obviously new to this it’s adorable. Let me help you remember your first time.~" Warmth spread up from my loins as pre leaked lewdly between her fingers. Her strokes were strong, rough, yet she knew exactly how to twist and angle her palm to send new waves of pleasure through my body. It was driving me wild. Each meaty clap of her palm striking my groin echoed loudly in my ears and before I knew what was happening my hips began to rock forward to meet her pumps.

I leaned my head back against her shoulder and turned to face her only yo be met with a predatory grin. The cat toying with its mouse. She pressed her lips against mine in a deep, hungry kiss and I felt her tusks dig into my cheek as her hand worked itself into a frenzy. But the lewd sounds rolling out into Silvermoon were not just from us. A piece made up of muffled moans was playing on the balcony and while in the throes of my kiss I turned my gaze to the pair beside us.

The worgen loomed above the Zandalari, holding the back of her head with his clawed paw while guiding his cock down her gullet with little mercy. Wet, sloppy sounds echoed forth as beads of spit drooled onto the stone below. The troll was absolutely loving it. Two thick fingers stirred her pussy as the worgen face fucked her into a dirty mess. As my partner ended our kiss, she followed my gaze and grinned. “Nice, isn’t it?” I nodded and watched as the worgen held the troll against his crotch for a long while. Her eyes shut tight and she coughed around his cock as cum rushed from her chin and nostrils in lewd spurts. She pulled back with a gasp and a spray of spunk, moaning through a sticky web that connected her lips to the Worgen's cock. She had hardly a moment to recover when he fell upon her yet my eyes squeezed shut at that moment as the orc began to pump my cock even faster.

“W-wait…” was all I managed to get out before my orgasm overtook my senses. Thick ropes arced across the stones and dribbled down the orc’s fingers, leaving a lewd trail back to me. My partner growled in delight and pulled me into another hungry kiss as she squeezed the last drops from my cock before letting me go. A rough slap across my ass and a playful wink was her final parting gifts as she casually walked across my seed. “Enjoy the party, Newblood.”

My eyes followed that jiggling, azure ass before it was lost in the wild scene just beyond the balcony. Every major race on Azeroth was currently entwined upon the couches, cushions, and rugs of the main chamber. A gnomish girl bounced in the lap of a goblin. A Draenei man was sandwiched between a Tauren and a troll. A human and orcish girl knelt before a dwarf. And the sounds. Gruff, graceful, pleasured, and pained. The participants made up a choir of lustful performers. Their songs of ecstasy rolled out across the streets of Silvermoon as they imbibed in each other's bodies. It was intense, it was amazing, and I wanted nothing more than to join in.

I left behind the Worgen and Zandalari to look for something that struck my fancy. Those who were not actively participating stood or lounged off to the side, casually chatting, watching, or touching themselves as the scenes played out. Upon a golden couch, Lana’enos lounged and watched from afar. Every now and then they would take a deep drink from a crystal goblet, yet did not entertain a partner.

Suddenly, I was pulled down upon a thick-set Draenei woman. Her skin was dusky and soft, and her alabaster hair fell just short of her shoulders. As the Draenei wrapped her arms around my neck she gave a sweet smile. "Hello, cutie.~ Want to have fun?~” Matching her smile, I leaned forward and pulled a gasp from her lips as I latched onto a stiff, dark teat and suckled greedily. I angled my hips between hers and showered her breasts with affection; groping, suckling, and tugging at her soft girls while fruitlessly thrusting my cock against her folds. Without warning, nimble fingers wrapped around my length and gave it a teasing stroke as a soothing voice slithered into my ear.

“Relax.~” A night elf purred as he guided me past the Draenei’s hot folds. For the first time in my life, I was inside a woman. The soft, squeezing warmth was so new, so utterly blinding in its pleasure, I considered simply laying there selfishly to enjoy it. The sharp spank across my ass brought me back to the world, though, and made me aware of the thick member pressed against my tight hole. I grit my teeth, whimpering as the elf pushed his way deep inside me and likewise drove my hips into the Draenei beneath. I clutched her face, forcing this strange woman to look into my eyes as I began to move. Her cerulean gaze begged me for more and I was happy to oblige. I had used toys on women before, but being able to feel her hot walls squeezing down was something entirely new.

Wet, meaty claps echoed in my ears from both my thrusts and those of the man behind me. We joined the chorus of lewdness that filled the great chamber with sensual moans and the slap of flesh on flesh. I grit my teeth and groaned, reveling in the dual sensations. Simultaneously drowning in the softness of the woman below while enjoying the thickness of the man behind. A firm hand cupped my chin and turned my head into a hungry kiss as my lover bore his full weight upon my body. Slamming into me as hard as he could which drove my own hips deep into the Draenei.

Her soft, cute moans were utterly adorable. Soft fingers laced through my hair and across my skin as she watched our kiss with greedy eyes. The moment the elf broke away she was upon me. Plump lips peppered my face with hot, needy kisses. Her jealousy was apparent in every caress.
We stayed entwined for several sensual moments. Rough fingers gripped my hair and tugged my head back as the elf began to lose his composure. My own hips slammed down with enough force to send waves of jiggles through the husky Draenei below me.

I came first. I squeezed down tight on my elven lover while filling the Draenei's quim. My teeth found her shoulder and sunk in to stifle my moans as my lovers soon followed my stead. The woman shuddered and let out soft, gasping cries as her hot walls spasmed around me. The man merely let out a soft "Yeah~" as he pushed in to his hilt and unloaded against my own aching walls. Warmth spread through my belly. A soothing, pleasing warmth that led me to collapse atop my busty partner. Tender hands caressed my face and I felt I could stay in this position for the rest of the night. I even squeezed hard around that elven cock, unwilling to let him escape too soon after emptying his seed.

But leave he did, and I whimpered sadly as he pulled out. He turned my chin into one last tender kiss before landing another hard spank on my ass and disappearing into the crowd. Left with the Draenei, I took my time pilling free from her. When I did she whimpered as well and stole her own parting kiss before I was fully free. The last I saw of her that night, she was in much the same spot with a smile on her face and cum copiously leaking between her thighs.

---

The guests were my oyster, as I was theirs. To write in length on my fun that night would take far too much time. Unlike some of the other parties I attended this one is not a blur in my mind. Each encounter is ingrained with my memories. I can taste every set of lips, every cock, every supple form that graced my tongue to this day. I will recount two other encounters. The first was simple, yet so passionate that I felt it must be told.

Sometime in the night, I came upon a Pandaren woman entertaining two others upon a couch. She rode a Kul Tiran man in reverse, leaning back against his body while he drove himself into her ass. Rough hands graced her furred body with gropes and spanks all the while. Her face was obscured by a gnomish man who had hugged himself to her head and was frantically thrusting into her maw. Meaty claps echoed out with such rapidity that I was certain he was soon to cum. I have slept with Pandaren before. I know how soft, warm, and squishy we can be. But none of those times involved me with the cock, so I wanted to indulge.

Her legs were spread wide, giving a full view of those rich ebony lips, yet my eyes were fixed squarely on her paws. I was curious. In my travels, I have had a few men proposition to use my feet, which confused me but they seemed to enjoy it l. Considering this was a party about exploration, I felt it was appropriate to explore what the hubbub was. Pressing the Pandaren’s paws together, I slipped my cock between her soft pads and began to rock forward. It was a curious sensation, akin to rubbing against soft leather and fur but it was not wholly unpleasant. She did not seem to mind as her toes curled around my shaft with soft, teasing squeezes. Soon the fur and pads of her paws were slick with cum and the collected nectar of my partners.

As good as it felt, I wanted more. I stepped forward, shouldered her legs then guided my cock between her thighs. She moaned around the cock in her mouth, though I cannot say for certain I was the reason why and wiggled her toes in the air. Her thighs made my new sleeve as I drove forward, teasing her wet folds and clit with the underside of my cock with each hungry thrust. The mess I had made on her feet was nothing compared to the sticky froth that soon coated her thighs and cunny.

All three of us worked in frantic asymmetry, completely ignoring the pace of the others as we played with our Pandaren partner. The Kul Tiran shot me a smirk from below as he began to slam upward hard and fast. The gnome gave a blind thumbs up as his humping became more erratic, clearly on the verge of his peak. My own thrusts grew more deliberate. Each one spread her messy folds wide and massaged her sensitive button before my sack spanked against her in a final indignant tease. Her thighs were utterly soaked. Her voice was alive with pleasured mewls and her ankles crossed behind my neck. Her trio of lovers was driving her toward an explosive end.

The gnome came with a shuddering cry. Muffled moans were choked as he emptied himself into her gullet. Loud, audible gulps filled the space around us before he pulled out and rolled off to the side. She gasped for air and shuddered before her gaze met mine. Deep azure eyes peered up at me with such a need I had not seen in the other guests. I knew that look well. She was stuck. Stuck at a peak she could not crest and it was driving her wild. When the Kul Tiran grunted and filled her tight rump from below, it was up to me to help. Who was I to leave her in such a state?

I pushed forward, bending her legs back until I could freely press down my weight onto her. Our size difference was all too apparent now, yet I pushed myself deep into her aching nethers. Damp heat met my cock and as I slipped deeper within her I wondered briefly if I could hit her right spots. But such a lack of confidence was not needed at the moment. I bore my full weight down into my thrusts resulting in loud, echoing claps of flesh on furred flesh. Her toes curled and her legs shook with each heavy blow. Hot walls squeezed down like a vice as I pressed into her over again. That sweet, husky voice rolled through my ears muttering words in Thalassian which I could not understand. I fucked her until she erupted in a series of violent quakes. Her limbs flailed at the sofa and the air before wrapping around my body in a death grip. Sharp claws dug into my skin as a loud, pleased cry echoed in my ears. I had just enough strength to pull out and paint her belly and breasts with cum, creating a sticky mess to collapse against as her eyes rolled back from pleasure.

I panted for breath and lost myself in her soft warmth as we recovered. A pleased growl roused me before I found myself pulled into a deep, loving kiss. We shared the tastes of our night's experiences in that embrace. What a taste it was. I will never fully forget it, yet it remains impossible to describe. A tangy, salty, primal taste that even now makes me wet from the echoes in my mind. The pair of us were broken from our embrace by the gentle tap of the Kul Tiran's hand on my shoulder.

"Hey lovebirds, let me up before you go again."

He chuckled as we blushed and rolled aside to let him free. I was not set free though. My partner straddled my hips and hugged me to her chest as she began to ride with a vigor unmatched that night. She wound up not letting me free until I had helped her cum three more times that night. Even now, in her regular form, we meet up every so often to relive that night of passion.

---

The second encounter I will tell was incredibly fun. Those involved also remain good friends in my life. Towards the end of the night, partners were far more firmly established. Everyone had found a group or groups to couple and better know one another. In both senses of the word. It was fun to see a Tauren casually chat with a gnome while bent over the back of a worgen or two elves laugh at the silliness of the partners between their legs. People met and connected and sex had become optional.

In my group, my Pandaren friend and I sat with a jungle troll, an orc, and a Dark Iron and human woman. Between our chatting and teasing, we began to cheekily guess our original forms with one another, leaving names for the morning. I and the human were attending the troll as he tapped his chin in thought.

"I'm gonna guess goblin an' Void Elf."

My human friend popped her lips from his heavy sack and beamed. "Ren'dorei, yep! So are you a goblin?" Her gaze turned to me as she returned to her duties. I merely shook my head while humming around the troll's cock. A stiff violet slab was the object of our dual affections. Imposing, but not intimidating, with enough girth to rival a Tauren. With a shared wink, we slipped our mouths on either side of his meat. Our lips made a sleeve and we moved in unison from base to tip. Wet, creamy spit, and cum was left in our wake as we teased him. Not an inch went unattended in our efforts to distract him from the guessing game.

Every now and again our lips met in an intimate kiss over his length and we made a point to show off how much we enjoyed sharing his taste. Our tongues slipped across his cockhead before disappearing into the other's mouth, and each time we made a point to look directly at our troll friend. He only shook his head and gave a goofy grin each time. The deviousness was intoxicating.

Soon enough our troll friend grunted and grabbed the back of our heads. His hips rutted upward, clapping his thighs against our cheeks as he began his race toward a messy finish. Each thrust pulled a mewl from our lips. That hot, sticky slab oozed pre against our faces as his climax grew nearer. I reached between my human friend's legs and slipped two fingers inside her, drawing forth a low moan and a hand on my cock in response. As we began to tease one another, the troll gave one last panting groan as he painted the tops of our heads and sides of our faces with cum. I relished in the sensation. The texture, taste, and scent thrilled me and I dutifully set to cleaning him and my human partner of the mess. She pulled away after some time and crawled over our troll friend to steal a kiss from his lips.

Her plump rear swayed before me, offering a tantalizing look at her soft pucker and plump nethers. It was an invitation I could not pass up. Stradling the troll’s hips, I leaned forward and slipped my tongue across the gentle blonde fuzz of her pussy. Up, up went my tongue until I gave a teasing flick against her soft pucker. My fingers grasped her cheeks and pulled them aside as I set to probing her tight hole with my tongue. A moan escaped her and she pressed her ass back to coax me to continue.

Not to be forgotten, the troll reached between his legs and grasped his and my cock in his firm hand. He stroked us both at a snail's pace. Each movement made me blissfully aware of every detail on his hand and cock. Rough, thick fingers with slight imperfections brought me closer to my peak. The texture, the pace. All of it was too much to handle after an hour of soft teases from the group.

As the human's ass began to squeeze hard and tangy nectar jetted against our cocks, I came. Thick, hot ropes laced across! The woman's ass, leaving clear trails on her sun-kissed skin. I whimpered and was ready to rest when a green hand reached from around me and pulled the woman across the troll.

"No breaks yet, you two." Our orc friend chuckled as he adjusted us both to his liking. In short, he positioned us into a frantic foursome that strained my tired body in the best of ways. The woman bounced happily on the troll's cock as I slammed her from behind. His thick hands held tight to her hips while my own hungrily groped her girls. My thrusts were not wholly my own. The orc was happily taking his fill of my rump. Each thrust shuddered my body like a cheaply made shed and sent me deep into the woman's taut rear. We made a sweaty engine of sex. Each cock a cog that moved the others in a perfect rhythm.

My lips graced sweat-slick skin as my fingers pinched two rock hard nipples. Rough green hands rolled up my sides before spanking my soft, elven butt. Toes curled. Hair stuck to faces. The scents of sweat and sex overpowered us four until at last, our machine broke down.

Our human friend cried out loud as two cocks flooded her squeezing depths to the brim. She collapsed forward and I followed as our orc friend drove his hips in a fury. Wild huffs filled our ears alongside the heavy slaps of his hips against mine until his dam finally burst inside me. It was his turn to collapse and I felt heard our troll friend grunt at the combined weight on top of him.

We crushed our friend for some time before the woman spoke up. "So are you a gnome then? You're good with your tongue and I hear they are."

"Nooo…" was my weak reply before a chorus of laughs erupted from our pile.

---

The night passed by with less and less sex. Though the potions had given us bountiful stamina, it was not endless. My group put aside their guessing game and teasings not too long after our final foursome. One by one they drifted off tangled in each other's arms. My Pandaren friend cuddled me close, unwilling to let me go even in sleep. Yet, sleep did not find me.

I stared into my new friend's face for some time. A friend whose name I did not know. Whose original face I did not know. And yet one who I now found myself cuddling intimately. Lana'enos had spoken true. The potions and blindfolds had given us each a blank slate to act on. We connected to each other, and to ourselves, in deeper ways because we had no preconceived ideas of who the others were before.

I have not forgotten the final encounter of the night. It is not smutty but it is poignant, I feel. Long after the others fell asleep I found myself restless. The soft, and not so soft, snoring of the others combined with my restless mind kept me awake. I snuck from my partner's grasp and decided to roam toward the balcony in an effort to ease my senses. Everyone had retreated to the couches and cushions, so I anticipated standing alone with my thoughts. What a surprise it was to see a lone figure standing and observing Silvermoon.

Lana'enos cast their gaze to the streets below where a late-night trickle of travelers, guards, and merchants preparing for the day ahead quietly went about their business. They cupped a goblet in their hand and cut a regal figure in their sheer robe despite it hiding nothing of their body beneath.

"You should be asleep, dear guest." They spoke without regarding me. I should have taken that as a signal to leave, but stubbornness won out.

"I should, but I couldn't."

"Oh?" They looked at me curiously before continuing, "I watched you have copious amounts of fun earlier. What hexes you with insomnia?"

I shrugged and leaned against the rail with them. “Just thoughts on the night.” I took them in for a moment. The allure was still there, dangerous and attractive. I recalled my earlier hope that they would be receptive of an advance, yet the elf had lounged and watched the entire night. It was curious to me. "Why do you host such a party when you do not participate?"

A smile crossed their lips. A sweet, sly smile that, for a moment, I thought would be their only response. But then they began to speak. "I was born into a paradox. I was raised to see the world in a certain way. Raised to believe that one had to dress, talk, act, live in correspondence to their appearance. Men and women have specific responsibilities and limitations. Why? For posterity."

They scoffed and took a drink as they continued. "In public, we were expected to represent the best of the Sin'dorei. Proper, respectable models for the masses to love and look up to. In private, all those rules were tossed aside like a month old gown. They dressed as they wished, bedded whom they wished, and acted how they wished. It confused me. I was told it was normal, that what we did behind the curtains was nothing more than harmless fun. A way to express and suppress unwanted urges.

"I joined in because of a nagging thought in my mind that grew louder as I aged. It was expected of me to suppress, so I did my damndest to appease polite society. In the process, I discovered something else: sex was frightfully boring to me." We shared a chuckle at that, though their gaze turned slightly sorrowful as they resumed.

"I saw my reflection in profile each time I went to the mirror in those early years. I was not whole. I was not meant fully for the lifestyle I was groomed to live, but I felt trapped. The parties awakened me more to this feeling, it did not suppress them. People turn to the perverse because it is a safe way to explore and express themselves. It offers new, exciting experiences, pushes the boundaries of sensation and expands the mind to those willing. It expanded mine when others thought it would contain it.

"I did not see my full reflection until I was honest with myself about who I was. I declared myself to the world and did not look back. Not everyone has the same privilege I did. Not all can afford to lose what I lost. So, I decided to try and change our silly society bit by bit. To try and show the visible few that it is okay to be themselves in public.

"Though I no longer participate, sex has a way of reflecting who we really are. The greedy seek ever more partners. The caring offer gentle guidance. The silly bring out laughter in the midst of passion. To many, this is harmless fun. To others, it may embolden a part they were scared to show. I only offer a space where they can explore without the demands of society bearing down in them.

"They all take away the idea that bodies are merely vessels. Personality shines through no matter what form a person takes. A simple message, but one we need to reiterate time and again. My hope is that they take this experience with them in the future. Make this world a little more tolerant and accepting of others."

A swirl of their goblet and a sour look into the empty glass brought Lana'enos upright. They smiled at me, which I happily returned. "In short, I do not participate because the night isn't about me and I find all the flopping about dreadfully dull now. It is much more fun to drink and watch new bonds form." We chuckled again and shared a bit more conversation before they finally turned in for bed. I watched their graceful form disappear behind the curtains before turning to my own thoughts.

Lana’enos was right. Anonymity allowed each one of us a chance to discover ourselves. For some, it was just a way to suppress their feelings and like the elf had said they would live with those feelings until they were honest about them. For many more, it was a way to express themselves without fear of ridicule or judgment. The strict rules of the societies outside the walls of the room remained. But we had each become small catalysts of change to those rules.

These potions showed how malleable we truly are. The body has its desires, but it is contextual. Individuals are complicated. The basic needs of society will always be met by the majority and many are comfortable as they are. But there needs to be more understanding that things change, people change, context changes, and that is okay.

I returned to my spot in the Pandaren’s arms and fell asleep. In the morning, I looked into the face of the gentle Sin'dorei man who cuddled me close. He was gruff, scarred, and rough with scruff, yet he had a softness to him which I felt he would only ever show in his sleep. Our orc friend was a plump gnome girl. The human, a Ren'dorei girl. The Dark Iron, another Sin'dorei man. The troll was actually just a troll. I feel he cheated and did not take a potion which, honestly, was not unexpected after getting to know him in the night.

We all parted ways in the early afternoon after we cleaned, exchanged names, and promised to see each other again. Bileux clung tightly to my arm as we left, yet my gaze turned back to that red-headed elf before we disappeared down separate paths. I left Silvermoon with new friends and a better understanding of the trials many go through in silence around us. I would never return to that party, it's lessons were already known to me. But I will treasure it always.

Kara Goldensong