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"description": "[i]Originally Submitted to FurAffinity.net on Mar 8th, 2016 09:41 PM.[/i]\n\nBefore all the calamity started which resulted in my 5-month absence, this is what I was working on. I'm glad I got to finish it before TFF! World of Warcraft isn't exactly riding high with its latest bombshell of an expansion *coughlostthemostsubscribersperquarterthaneverinitslifetimecough* and really, the only thing that keeps me playing is social obligations. If it wasn't for how awesome my guild is, I would've quit playing years ago. I've tried getting into other MMOs, whether it be something to fill the gap or just on the suggestion of others, but none of them ever really kept my interest. Why's that?\n\nWell, call me shallow, but it's largely because WoW has so many more fuckable characters! A tauren and I would turn a teepee into a sweat lodge through our bodies alone. I'd volunteer for enslavement by the naga if my duties included keeping the males' physical urges sated. I'd see how literal a moonkin's dedication to balance is by testing his ability to maintain some rather acrobatic positions with an ass to a crotch. I'd act out the entirety of 50 Layers of Shadow with the arakkoa. I'd get those leather leggings to drop off Maloriak in ways that don't involve killing him. My Trial of Strength with Xuen would involve seeing what kind of power I can exert under his lifted tail. And you've seen [url=https://inkbunny.net/s/1609010]how Anzu looks in my head[/url]. It's funny how such a small thing can pull in an audience.\n\nNow that I've cranked out a bunch of ideas for future art, perhaps I should talk more about this piece. I see so many pics of worgen that are drawn as nothing more than generic anthropomorphic canines, and they always leave me shaking my head. All worgen are werewolves, but not all werewolves are worgen; you can't just draw any ol' doggish furry and call it a worgen. They have very specific, distinguishing traits to them, enough that you're supposed go \"THAT'S a worgen!\" when you see them. Unfortunately, I didn't exactly nail it either, as I ended up taking some artistic liberties myself, such as a visible pupil, narrower shoulders, and a more upright posture. At least I didn't give him a tail, which is another elementary mistake a lot of people make when drawing worgen. I do wish they had tails, though.\n\nBut I DID give him a little something extra that you don't see in the game. It's long, fits nicely in your palm, and hangs perfectly right around his waist! I'm not talking about his daggers, those don't feel nearly as good being thrust inside of you. Needless to say, a rogue this unencumbered would have no problem slipping through the shadows unnoticed! Imagine you're trekking through Silverpine Forest on your way to The Sepulcher in the dead of night, when suddenly your lower back is struck with a debilitating blow that arcs you backward and leaves your throat vulnerable. What wraps around it is not a knife, but several sharp claws just an ounce of pressure away from piercing your skin. Yanking out your jugular would be trivial for them. Not only are you unable to call for help, but you are forced forward into the shade of a tree, where the darkness leaves you at the mercy of your stalker. The first sounds of the thing that has made you its prey comes in the form of a deep snarl as you feel hot breath against your ear.\n\n\"Grab some bark,\" he growls. You obediently press your hands against the trunk of the tree while his claw not clasped around your neck slips in front of you and unbuckles your belt. Your pants soon follow as his thumb hooks into your lower garments and pulls until they drop to the ground. The smell of this beast finally hits your nostrils-- a wild creature of the night whose lack of civility is apparent in more ways than just his actions. \n\nAnd that's when you feel it. Pressed lengthwise in the crease of your rump. You didn't even hear him unbuckle his own trousers! Does he really skulk the woods so bare specifically to unleash his depravity like this? The fur brushing against your skin when he crams his meaty phallus fully against your rear end is telling your captor is a worgen, and no small specimen is he. His thick, heated rod pushing and pulling between your buttcheeks... the soft bump of his pendulous scrotum against yours... and the head... that ridged, domed cap grazing your backside, leaving a slickness that rapidly cools in the night air everywhere it touches... it all makes gulping feel like swallowing stones as you think of what lewd acts he plans to commit with such equipment. But it's when you hear the scraping of metal that your heart truly begins to race.\n\n\"Only one of these is going inside of you. If you're smart, you'll choose the right one,\" the naturally-rough voice of the worgen rumbles as you feel his member draw back slowly, but just enough to point directly at your tightly-clenched hole. It presses... harder... harder still, spitting its gooey fluid every second to facilitate its entry. As you relax your sphincter despite the great tension still seizing the rest of your body, the beast's glans pops through your ring, igniting every muscle in your midsection by how much more it parts your insides than expected. His blunt helmet guides the way for the rest of his rigid, veiny shaft to enter you, accompanied by a moist slurp of his tongue running along his lips.\n\nEvery one of your limbs shake as the lustful brute slowly but smoothly becomes one with you. However, as he does, you can hear his blade sinking back into its sheath.\n\n\"Aaahhhh, good man...\" the worgen says with a slightly quivered sigh. \"You made a wise decision.\" As soon as his furred crotch is flush against your buttocks and his bulbous testicles are tapping your own, the claw gripping his weapon moves down to your waist, though the other is left within tearing distance of your throat. Then, with guttural, animalistic huffs, his powerful body begins to move, making quick, repeated thrusts that spear your bowels with his erect penis over and over again.\n\nIt doesn't take long for your body to adjust to the invading appendage as the sharp, burning sensation recesses into a dull strain. The claws gripping the crux of your shoulder and neck tug you onto his male meat each time he bucks forward, firmly enough that you sometimes find your hands being pulled away from the tree. However, each time you begin straightening your upper body, he leans forward to use his weight and brawn to force you back down, followed by a shuffling of paws to regain footing and an even harder fucking to follow.\n\nAs your anal passage fills with the foul creature's pre, his assault on your rectum becomes smoother, but now the once soft fur that beats against your behind has also become sticky and clumped. It is certainly of no inconvenience to your dominator, as a cursory glimpse backward catches his panting, drooling muzzle and softly-glowing yellow eyes lost in a world of bliss. For a moment, you wonder how he'd react if you decided to take action. But the moment he feels even the slightest twitch of muscles around his cock, the worgen's attention snaps back instantly before you can make a move, never missing a beat in his jackhammering of your asshole. He's obviously done this before. Many times.\n\nThe way he's pulling greater lengths of his cock out of your hole while actually increasing in pace indicates the ordeal is reaching its climax. And what a climax he's bringing it to, as now his entire body is involved in every push of his frantic fornication. Grunting and snorting, heaving and gasping, even this predatory beast is enslaved by the throes of nature as he tosses his head to the sky and howls triumphantly, heralding a powerful orgasm that gushes hot lupine seed into your bowels. Surging veins cause his cock to swell, opening you wider than he ever has while his incessant thrusting pulls his semen out to leak over your sac, just to have it soaked and smacked by his own swinging, fuzzy lycan scrotum.\n\nAs his orgasm washes away, he becomes still to catch his breath and allow the rest of his load to leak inside of you through lazy pumps of his softening organ. Once he's had his fill (or rather, once you've had yours), he unceremoniously withdraws his sloppy member from your worn, wet anus. Once again, you feel weight pressed upon your back as he leans forward to murmur in your ear.\n\n\"Thanks again,\" the husky voice says. What does he mean by \"again?\" Without giving you time to ponder or ask, the claw on your shoulder is dragged slowly and sharply down your spine, leaving marks in your vestments as he steps backward into the night. By the time you muster the courage to turn around, he's already vanished.\n\nAs if getting pinned to a tree and fucked by a werewolf wasn't enough, now you're behind schedule. At this rate, it'll probably be safer and quicker to just head back to the village from which you came and pay the extra cost for a ferry. But once you pull your trousers back up and refasten your belt, that's when you discover something amiss-- your coin pouch is gone! That damn rogue must've nicked it when he dropped your pants!\n\nLooks like you're walking. Staring into the vast forest ahead of you, reeking of worgen sweat and semen, you wonder if the rewards for your efforts will be worth it. But as the echoes of howling wolves ring through the trees before you, you know your quest is far from over.\n\nWow, I, er, really got carried away there. I guess my point is WoW needs more transmog options to hide armor! Like... all of it. It'd cut down on a lot of dressing room time for my tauren druid and worgen rogue! I mean, uh, I DON'T KNOW WHO THAT WORGEN ROGUE IS! PROBABLY JUST SOME RANDOM CHARACTER WITH WHOM I HAVE NO PREVIOUS CONNECTIONS! STOP ASKING QUESTIONS!",
"description_bbcode_parsed": "Originally Submitted to FurAffinity.net on Mar 8th, 2016 09:41 PM.
Before all the calamity started which resulted in my 5-month absence, this is what I was working on. I'm glad I got to finish it before TFF! World of Warcraft isn't exactly riding high with its latest bombshell of an expansion *coughlostthemostsubscribersperquarterthaneverinitslifetimecough* and really, the only thing that keeps me playing is social obligations. If it wasn't for how awesome my guild is, I would've quit playing years ago. I've tried getting into other MMOs, whether it be something to fill the gap or just on the suggestion of others, but none of them ever really kept my interest. Why's that?
Well, call me shallow, but it's largely because WoW has so many more fuckable characters! A tauren and I would turn a teepee into a sweat lodge through our bodies alone. I'd volunteer for enslavement by the naga if my duties included keeping the males' physical urges sated. I'd see how literal a moonkin's dedication to balance is by testing his ability to maintain some rather acrobatic positions with an ass to a crotch. I'd act out the entirety of 50 Layers of Shadow with the arakkoa. I'd get those leather leggings to drop off Maloriak in ways that don't involve killing him. My Trial of Strength with Xuen would involve seeing what kind of power I can exert under his lifted tail. And you've seen how Anzu looks in my head. It's funny how such a small thing can pull in an audience.
Now that I've cranked out a bunch of ideas for future art, perhaps I should talk more about this piece. I see so many pics of worgen that are drawn as nothing more than generic anthropomorphic canines, and they always leave me shaking my head. All worgen are werewolves, but not all werewolves are worgen; you can't just draw any ol' doggish furry and call it a worgen. They have very specific, distinguishing traits to them, enough that you're supposed go "THAT'S a worgen!" when you see them. Unfortunately, I didn't exactly nail it either, as I ended up taking some artistic liberties myself, such as a visible pupil, narrower shoulders, and a more upright posture. At least I didn't give him a tail, which is another elementary mistake a lot of people make when drawing worgen. I do wish they had tails, though.
But I DID give him a little something extra that you don't see in the game. It's long, fits nicely in your palm, and hangs perfectly right around his waist! I'm not talking about his daggers, those don't feel nearly as good being thrust inside of you. Needless to say, a rogue this unencumbered would have no problem slipping through the shadows unnoticed! Imagine you're trekking through Silverpine Forest on your way to The Sepulcher in the dead of night, when suddenly your lower back is struck with a debilitating blow that arcs you backward and leaves your throat vulnerable. What wraps around it is not a knife, but several sharp claws just an ounce of pressure away from piercing your skin. Yanking out your jugular would be trivial for them. Not only are you unable to call for help, but you are forced forward into the shade of a tree, where the darkness leaves you at the mercy of your stalker. The first sounds of the thing that has made you its prey comes in the form of a deep snarl as you feel hot breath against your ear.
"Grab some bark," he growls. You obediently press your hands against the trunk of the tree while his claw not clasped around your neck slips in front of you and unbuckles your belt. Your pants soon follow as his thumb hooks into your lower garments and pulls until they drop to the ground. The smell of this beast finally hits your nostrils-- a wild creature of the night whose lack of civility is apparent in more ways than just his actions.
And that's when you feel it. Pressed lengthwise in the crease of your rump. You didn't even hear him unbuckle his own trousers! Does he really skulk the woods so bare specifically to unleash his depravity like this? The fur brushing against your skin when he crams his meaty phallus fully against your rear end is telling your captor is a worgen, and no small specimen is he. His thick, heated rod pushing and pulling between your buttcheeks... the soft bump of his pendulous scrotum against yours... and the head... that ridged, domed cap grazing your backside, leaving a slickness that rapidly cools in the night air everywhere it touches... it all makes gulping feel like swallowing stones as you think of what lewd acts he plans to commit with such equipment. But it's when you hear the scraping of metal that your heart truly begins to race.
"Only one of these is going inside of you. If you're smart, you'll choose the right one," the naturally-rough voice of the worgen rumbles as you feel his member draw back slowly, but just enough to point directly at your tightly-clenched hole. It presses... harder... harder still, spitting its gooey fluid every second to facilitate its entry. As you relax your sphincter despite the great tension still seizing the rest of your body, the beast's glans pops through your ring, igniting every muscle in your midsection by how much more it parts your insides than expected. His blunt helmet guides the way for the rest of his rigid, veiny shaft to enter you, accompanied by a moist slurp of his tongue running along his lips.
Every one of your limbs shake as the lustful brute slowly but smoothly becomes one with you. However, as he does, you can hear his blade sinking back into its sheath.
"Aaahhhh, good man..." the worgen says with a slightly quivered sigh. "You made a wise decision." As soon as his furred crotch is flush against your buttocks and his bulbous testicles are tapping your own, the claw gripping his weapon moves down to your waist, though the other is left within tearing distance of your throat. Then, with guttural, animalistic huffs, his powerful body begins to move, making quick, repeated thrusts that spear your bowels with his erect penis over and over again.
It doesn't take long for your body to adjust to the invading appendage as the sharp, burning sensation recesses into a dull strain. The claws gripping the crux of your shoulder and neck tug you onto his male meat each time he bucks forward, firmly enough that you sometimes find your hands being pulled away from the tree. However, each time you begin straightening your upper body, he leans forward to use his weight and brawn to force you back down, followed by a shuffling of paws to regain footing and an even harder fucking to follow.
As your anal passage fills with the foul creature's pre, his assault on your rectum becomes smoother, but now the once soft fur that beats against your behind has also become sticky and clumped. It is certainly of no inconvenience to your dominator, as a cursory glimpse backward catches his panting, drooling muzzle and softly-glowing yellow eyes lost in a world of bliss. For a moment, you wonder how he'd react if you decided to take action. But the moment he feels even the slightest twitch of muscles around his cock, the worgen's attention snaps back instantly before you can make a move, never missing a beat in his jackhammering of your asshole. He's obviously done this before. Many times.
The way he's pulling greater lengths of his cock out of your hole while actually increasing in pace indicates the ordeal is reaching its climax. And what a climax he's bringing it to, as now his entire body is involved in every push of his frantic fornication. Grunting and snorting, heaving and gasping, even this predatory beast is enslaved by the throes of nature as he tosses his head to the sky and howls triumphantly, heralding a powerful orgasm that gushes hot lupine seed into your bowels. Surging veins cause his cock to swell, opening you wider than he ever has while his incessant thrusting pulls his semen out to leak over your sac, just to have it soaked and smacked by his own swinging, fuzzy lycan scrotum.
As his orgasm washes away, he becomes still to catch his breath and allow the rest of his load to leak inside of you through lazy pumps of his softening organ. Once he's had his fill (or rather, once you've had yours), he unceremoniously withdraws his sloppy member from your worn, wet anus. Once again, you feel weight pressed upon your back as he leans forward to murmur in your ear.
"Thanks again," the husky voice says. What does he mean by "again?" Without giving you time to ponder or ask, the claw on your shoulder is dragged slowly and sharply down your spine, leaving marks in your vestments as he steps backward into the night. By the time you muster the courage to turn around, he's already vanished.
As if getting pinned to a tree and fucked by a werewolf wasn't enough, now you're behind schedule. At this rate, it'll probably be safer and quicker to just head back to the village from which you came and pay the extra cost for a ferry. But once you pull your trousers back up and refasten your belt, that's when you discover something amiss-- your coin pouch is gone! That damn rogue must've nicked it when he dropped your pants!
Looks like you're walking. Staring into the vast forest ahead of you, reeking of worgen sweat and semen, you wonder if the rewards for your efforts will be worth it. But as the echoes of howling wolves ring through the trees before you, you know your quest is far from over.
Wow, I, er, really got carried away there. I guess my point is WoW needs more transmog options to hide armor! Like... all of it. It'd cut down on a lot of dressing room time for my tauren druid and worgen rogue! I mean, uh, I DON'T KNOW WHO THAT WORGEN ROGUE IS! PROBABLY JUST SOME RANDOM CHARACTER WITH WHOM I HAVE NO PREVIOUS CONNECTIONS! STOP ASKING QUESTIONS!",
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