Of the Herd -"The Culling" - Story Dump Time

[Mastron]

The below is a story I started writing about 15 years ago, inspired by a game I used to play called Lusternia. It was sorta metalore, my headcanon of the races within. Within the game, the race I liked the most were the Taurians, they were minotaurs, basically. Among the most physically strongest, but because they were so dangerous that they were kept subjugated by the other races and used as mercenaries. In my lore, there was an offshoot herd lead by an enlightened she-goddess called Khumy'thria. Seeing the downfall of her race, she like Moses, save them from their slavery. Engaged on an endless march where the weakest died and only the superior stock were left. At the beginning, as part of her tenants, the tribe remained nomadic like vikings, conquering pillaging, but each successive generation became more, and more powerful. Simply, they were essentially weeding out the remaining of the world. To this Most Powerful Generation, the great-grandaughters of Khumy'thria were borne two of prophesy. One that was destined to put the whole herd into the greatest stress and test of resilience (she was an unstoppable paragon of power and destruction, whose bloodlost was unequencable, as she craved and loved her power. Only her love for Des'moonah rivaled her strength), and that one who was to bring the herd to an entirely new era: Des'moonah, the most powerful of them all, however, her reluctance to fight (think Ferdinand the bull), along with how the weight of killing her mother, and absorbing the way of life of her herd, made her reluctant to take power and actually fled the herd leaving Gracia'Kha as the undisputed leader of the herd. True, thanks to Gracia'Kha the herd reached a semblance of "civilization" and non-nomadic, but so brutal and intense her regime, that the herd dwindled more and more in numbers, and their path of conquest was so extreme to other races, that most of them were on the brink of extinction. The prophecy was that both Des'moonah and Gracia'KHa should finally unite under Des's leadership. I don't think I'll ever finish this story, because i lost most of my manuscript. However, because I'm writing a story of world-conquering Annie Ample, I decided this plane will be one of those Annie will visit.












There was but one rule within the nomadic herd, and that was to keep up or stay behind to face fate alone. For in this herd inclemency was the law, and “Culling the Herd” was more than an inane joke amongst taurians; it was a way of life.
 
You see with a herd that kept moving more frequent and covering more terrain than every flock of migrating birds did in a single year whatever the season, mobility was crucial; mobility seemed to be the only reason for the herd to exist. Constantly moving, from one corpse-riddled battle field to the next, from a plundered village to the next, from the next prairie to the next, through night and day, through treks in single bound that could last many moons, surviving in the brink of slaughter of whatever local fauna,  through deluge, scorching desert, fire or deathly ice, no matter what the circumstances that were to triumph over the herd always moved rummaging for no apparent purpose to the unknowing eye, probably just to make sure that in every seashore the mark of the thunderous hooves remained imprinted challenging any sea-tide and the test of time…

But within the herd the purpose of such quest without any apparent termination was to ensure the survival of the herd, to empower it through iron, fire, or any other trial that needed to be undergone. Only those apt enough to perpetuate the existence of the herd were left, while those that would obstacle the full realization of the herd were struck down by any peril that so befell them. That is why such a herd of indomitable bravado remained but a handful of dozens, maybe even fewer. But each and every one of its members as fierce and capable than hundreds of whatever fiend crossed their path. But every paramount member of this everlasting clan had to be honed, and bred through the intense tenacity needed to be endured in the constant dance with adversity.

No exceptions were made. Brave warriors who were struck with mortal wounds were left to die, those who were wounded were expected to heal themselves and catch on, oftentimes just to fall in the ongoing journey victim of infections of an old wound, or disease due to momentarily lapse of weakness in the path to recovery, one lapse too time-consuming for such an extolled way of life. Or if fortunate, they would simply have the glory of passing on to join the Ancestors in the heat of the next battle or insurmountable challenge. Yet for the herd, not even then was there enough time to waste to bid farewell to the departed, there was no need as everyone knew that someday they were bound to meet again, so just with the celebratory pyre for the world to remember them, a pyre that was usually the entirety of whatever shire, hamlet, forest, fortress, or village set ablaze where the fury of the rage was unleashed and culminating leaving below the perished, with some almost hymnal roars the furious warriors tread on, a storm of horns and hooves heralding their advent.

Not even the young were exempt from such extreme vicissitudes of such an onerous life. Struggle was what they knew and came to be acquainted with since the very first moment they left the relative security of their mother’s womb often not into the warmth of a bed, but ejected into a turbulent ocean, their mothers sword in hand falling for a second to severe the remaining umbilical cord and through a swift motion place their babe in a satchel meant for them, just to stand as resolute as ever to see the finality of whatever tribulation they had at hand. So swift was the introduction into what would become a major part of their lives. Being just neigh calves, the babes would always remain in the satchel attached securely to their mother’s side, never parting, not in the thrill of the hunt, even in eye of the storm, minor scuffles, or the next epic battle; all of their mothers amazons, valkyries of the highest caliber, demonic whirlwinds in whatever undertaking they engaged. All of them matriarchs in their own right, revered, feared, and coveted by the men of the herd, maidens of unflinching iron yet warm bundle of affections once every Blue Moon, whom with their impregnable presence struck greater dread upon their foes.

But such safety, being next to such versatile dynamos, did not last long for the wee babes. Because they were expected to raise a sword even before they could crawl, and two before they could walk; and to join the tempest of the herd even before they could learn to harness their full strength in a frenetic stampede, and so would they come full circle, striped away from the safety of their mother’s bosom to become one with them and the rest of the herd in their never-ending pursuit. Only those worthy would remain longer than the rest.

Unfortunately, not all babes were that lucky, yes a minority of them were definitely not. Those few who at birth were deemed too frail and an immediate burden to the herd’s advancement were in an apparent act of compassion put to rest by their loving mothers. Those that as they matured manifested some kind of belated birth defect, such as asthma, a hobble, a much deteriorated eye-sight, malnutrition, frailty often times were put to the test in constant spars with their brethrens, some would fall. For the rest life itself would make sure to cull them from the herd, if they were not strong enough to endure it. Such apparent crudeness and cruelty was a necessity to ensure only the strong and most capable remained to perpetuate the herd into becoming master of where it strode…


To such a herd of beasts and gods this Taurian had the misfortune or anointed blessing to be born into. The daughter of the Matriarch of Matriarchs, a most beautiful of all females, strongest of all females and males, most tenacious and unrelenting of all, most masterfully mystic.



Curiously enough, there was an not so often done act to make sure that only the best of the best of the herd remained to perpetuate and refine it. One very strange that saw a small band of taurians stripped naked, chained, and lead by some hunt masters away from the herd. Supposedly the taurians were to live on their own to the best of their abilty, if they were strong enough they’d survive in their own volition, but they were never to return to the herd.

Orclach lecherously pawing, licking his lips, cupping Des'moonah’s very ample breast, commenting that such a delightful piece of meat would be a pity to turn into steak perhaps keep as a slave. at Des'moonah, Des'moonah flexing and her eyes threatening the orclach to stop or rip his hands off… Des'moonah realizing the fate of her bretheren whom she had promised to keep, and her own fate, in rage pulls her chain crazily, smashes her hands into the taurian guardsmen at her side breaking his left horn and smashing his skull with such force causing him a concussion. Tackles one of the orclachs, stomps his chest with such force, along with her colossal weight and completely caves it in, collapsing it, stares at her side and sees the other orclach and taurian brother approaching swords raised. Orclach takes a swoop with scimitar, Des'moonah dodges, brings knee into orclach’s face, grabs his girth lifting it from the ground tossing at the other two orclach, one stands, as as he does his head is caught in the vice of Des'moonah’s hands pressing with uncomparable force crushing it with her hands, blood splattering all over her. Second orclach skids backwards, in terror. Des'moonah takes a massive breath, stares around her, sees that without her wanting, she strangled one of her captive brothers when she made the initial lunge, his neck still attached to the chain that lead to her left arm, the other two are on floor two weak to stand up, taurian sees her seeing them, tells her how life culls the herd, so only the strong can survive ensuring that the herd doesn’t stagnate and continues, pity that Des'moonah failed to realize this and act accordingly. Proceeds to chop at fallen taurians. Des'moonah lunges, too late, falls ontop of him in a fury of punches so intense that mangle his face, but she stops not wanting to kill one of her own, at least not intentionally… gives a massive sigh, stares at her hands and what happened… hears last orclach shuffling, raising his scimitar high into the air to make a decapitating shot at Des'moonah. Before he can, Des'moonah throws her massive bulk at him, horns first impaling him, on her knees and proceeds to stand up caring the bulk of the orclach with him, telling her that he will pay, she’ll make sure his death is a slow and painful one. After a few minutes of spitting black vile, and bleeding, orclach lets out a wry laugh spasm and dies. Des'moonah flings her head forcefully sending orclarch carcass sailing. Massive bearhug, molding his body against her own crushing every rib.


Titan among Adonis. Mother fearful and jelous of daguther, even believe she saw her bending steal like puty with her own hand, thought most of all she was ashamed of her, because despite of all her power, her superb body, her uncoparable grace, she was miserable at the sword, surprisingly she had survived all her fights unscathed, even arranged spars where she was supposed to die, were she would just incapacite using sheer force her opponents but never killing them, nor would she ever fall victim of overburdening, being design to carry the bulk of the herds equipment and belongings in the march, her sheer force of will made her ever keep going, without complaining, nor slowing, nor tiring, no matter the weather, or terrain, onwards the relentlessly pressed, and then join swiftly in whatever activity her comrades where to engage on, battle or hunt, always unscathed, despite being on the heat of it, incapacitating opponents but unable to kill them. so mother thought that it was a miracle that her daughter hadn’t died, and that it was just matter or time for her to fall, that not such person inept in combat could carry on the mantle to lead the herd… so it would be best for her to send her away.


Still could not believe her daughter was the ahrlalaojp Great Mistress Martriarch of prophecy fortold by her mother before her she killed her in order to attain the mantle of Matriarch of Martriarches, whom she said would be strong as all, beautiful as all, feriouscious as all, but would refuse and hold herself down to become the implacable killing machine she had the potential to become, her rising would be needed to bring back to the herd “time and gift of temperance” lest the herd end consuming itself through such hazardous and perpetual storm that was their life..

Des'moonah goes back to camp, sees mother, demands to know why she sent her and the others to die as nothing, rage in her eyes, but still too calm to not crush her mother at sight, she was staying her hand… mother says cause she is weak, moves to corner of her tent, gets sword and tried to lunge and slash her, Des'moonah dodge all blows, tried to keep distance between her mother using obstacles, but then fell…mother approached readied her hand for the deadly stoce, lunges, but Des'moonah as lightning manages to grab the sword with her palms, bends at an angle and pulls with great force making her mother fall at her side… she telling mother to stop, but mother says that Des'moonah is weak, that she must die for the benefit of herd, pulls a dagger from robe, just as going to stab Des'moonah, she grabs mother’s wrist, fight for dagger, Des'moonah sits upstraight, mother still ontop, she moves  a hand to mother’s neck, and seeing how the fight was intense, and edge nearing her throat, both females trembling with effort… violently churns and snaps her mother’s neck, while breaking some bones of her mother’s hand which was holding the dagger…in panic at what she had done Des'moonah skids backwards kicking, saying no no, stares into the darkness of the night outside the tent, hears feet shuffling… lunges into the dark only to find the matriarchs not making a move against her, but lining side to side as if to let her through. Men on the other hand, swords raised and vocifering insults and calling her “Muh’ta-mer!” Traitor- for she came back when she was not to do so, breaking her rules. Des'moonah sure of her capabilities and not wanting to face them killing the lot of them and finally dying, and knowing her body full well swiftly outpaces them, makes for the swamps near where they were camping. Thumbles into the flotsam of the swamp, covering her up until her upper thigh. Moving at dazzling speeds, unchallenged by the grime, nor the stickiness of the swamp floor. Knows her body fully well, knows she physically outmatches her pursuers, knowing that with all their equipment on they’ll be even slower. In a snitch reaches other side, well, well before anyone else barely reaches the middle. Runs near a collinding hill with a massive, bent tree, pushes with all her might to uproot it, lifts it and throws at her pursuers, the massive stomp splashing grime all over, most of the taurians making the run for it to dodge it. Des'moonah yells, “I shall be back to take my place as Greater Matriarch, and you all won’t have other choice but to accept it!” . Runs into the shadows, and just before the taurians could collect themselves momentarily standing in shock, a rarity, to continue the pursuit, a blow from the summoning horn of the matriarchs calls them forth, piercing through the silence of the night. It’s calling never challenged, and always responded immediately herded the taurians to answer it’s summons.

Back in the tent of the Matriarch of Matriarchs, gathered around the unclothed corpses of the Great Matriarch, stood the other matriarchs chattering with one another feverishly. In unison they intoned their agreement and as the bulls gathered outside they stepped out and of them acting as mouthpiece delegated so the bulls and the winds could hear  “Tonight saw the birth of a new leader, tonight We have a new Matriarch of Matriarchs!”. Raising  all their weapons and powerful fists to the skies, and howling entoning their approval and clamours, knowing who this leader was, the best of the best among them, giving her their unneeded endorsement, but they too knew said leader had escaped clothed in darkness, perhaps without any intentions of coming soon… but they knew she would come back, for she had promised it, and so they knew that someday She Above All would someday rejoin them in their eternal procession not to be one amongst them but to lead…   


Des'moonah, bare naked, body heaving and muscles rippling being caressed by the coldness of the night air. Nears river, stares at her reflection for a second, then throws a rock at it, distorting it with countless ripples. Enters waters, the moon bathing her in a luscious silver. Des'moonah proceeds to wash the grime and blood that covered her body with outmust care making sure not to miss a spot, her muscles bulging as she caressed herself so diligently. Stares to look at the moon, taking a massive breath , lets out  a sigh,nears to shore slowly, her body  lumbering side to side. Nears a small bundle that apparently she had gathered earlier. Herbs, and two large rock, one cylincridal. Proceeds to mash the herbs ontop of the largest rock, using the other one as a mortar, doing repeatedly until a black tincture froths in the mortar. Proceeds to lie down the rock, places her fingertips in the mix, and then staring sternly straight, proceeds to outline in her massive bulk a series of lines, tattoos of her tribe, tattoos that only the leader of them got to wear. Black lines cover her left side of the face, her neck,, manages to outline her bulky back, and onto their bodacious buxom. Says into the shadows of the dark, that she is simply claiming what is her birthright.



Shame chooses to forget her name. adopts another one, Des'moonah not real name.  Wonders, what ever became of said taurian, and more mysteriously what ever happened to said implacable herd? Perhaps in their continuous march they had finally wandered beyond the deepest confinities known to mortalkind in ther constant pursuit for perfection… or the culling has claimed every single one of them, no one knows,  for even the annals of time seemed to have forgotten them…


Of Matriarchs and Mating:

Now, all and every female of the herd was of unparalleled fortitude, their stamina unmatched by anything they encountered never tiring and always eager to continue no matter what the endeavor. Even the “smallest” of the matriarchs, for every single female was considered physically, mentally, spiritually a matriarch in their own right; was strong and ferocious enough to overcome and dominate a multitude of male Herculean taurians working in unison in a wrangle or to conquer vast and insurmountable odds. All and every single one of them worthy representations of Mighty Tauro, the First Ancestor.

Even if the males of said herd revered such tenacious great dames bigger than their fear and awe for them was their lust and their desire to be with one intimately, if just once in their lifetime. Because not only were the matriarchs the perfect representation of strength, steadfastness, ferocity and wisdom, their beauty was beyond the entirety of worldly delights and far beyond heavenly. A sinewy sea of rippling bounteous iron-hard muscles, clad in a rich, smooth, deliciously tender leathery skin with a melting caress. All of them had long curly hair of different lengths, waving as they moved teasingly and inviting to be lost within its jungles, just another of the multiple entrapments in their possession for others marvel at. Such dames were beyond prodigiously well-endowed, all the females requiring a diagram to masterfully navigate through such labyrinth of curves, mounds and crevices, lest one be completely transfixed within such prodigious boundaries. All of them representing a handiwork beyond the imagination and ability of the most talented of sculptures and painters to conceive, and even worse to come close to illustrate even with the most miniscule trace of justice.

So dynamic and unreal did they appear even at a stand-still, that simply with breathing all the world that encompassed their bodies came into motion like an orphic orchestra so befitting of such otherworldly apparitions, with their muscles rippling and chest heaving, lagoons that sparkled to be lost in. If that was not enough, to add insult to injury, a light sheen of sweet seemed to ethereally bath such monuments at all times, unleashing into the air a sweet musky aroma that was spellbinding. Such vision did all the matriarchs of the herd present, that if for eternity it would’ve been easy and a pleasure to get lost staring at them. Alas, for the matriarchs were true devils always pushing the herd forth, always ordering, and ensuring to keep the herd gathered and in motion, that such trances were frequent but shortly lived.

Normally such goddesses seemed to be unreachable by those of their closest circle, inferior and unworthy of their grace, but once upon a Blue Moon, every taurian would have the opportunity to have the wish of their often short lifetime be fulfilled…

Once as the seasons came by, a matriarch would announce to the world that she was ready to select a male as a mate. Conditioned to it and all so eager all to be the fortunate one the male all the male taurians in a line, bare-naked—within such a glorious herd it

, even if only for a night… So all of them were too eager to be chosen whenever the time came.


but once every Blue Moon, when one of the Matriarchs decided to choose a mate their desire to be with such bountifully endowed and heavenly dames,
   







Of Martriarchs and Leadership


Of the Herd and combat

Of the Herd and the Continuous Stampede


Of the Herd and it’s origins

Relate tell of Khumy’thria, Grand Matriarch of All With Hooves and Horns, Mountain to Serve as Foundation for the Herd.
Greastest matriarch of them all, leader of the great herds and every taurian belonging to them. Herd too big, too many, too vapid and uncontrollable for its own good, mercs. Etc. Khumy’thria foresaw that despite our huge numbers, lack of organization and tempestuous nature was even unhealthy for the group. So she chose to resignate her leadership from the greater herds, to pursue her vision, that of a herd if not large in number insurpassable in spirit and might. Hundreds of taurians, both veterans, very young parted from the great herds to gather around her and her calling.  From that day forward, the herd led by Khumy’thria marched nonstop for 200 days, through oceans, lakes, rivers, deserts, mountains, plains, villages, no matter through where without stopping. Those wise forsaking any weapon or other burden they carried to make the march with greater quickening, learning to imitate Their Leader who was clad with nothing but a simple cloak in the vanguard. Those weak enough would fall never to get up, but those strong enough would learn to put their tongue out to recollect the rain water if the heavens deemed to cry for them in pity, or else to learn how to continue and persevere with nothing more than summoning their inner power, their inner rage to sustain them through such unmerciful march. And so the march continued with Khumy’thria as relentless as ever, without showing a sign of wear, implacable with every stride, always forward and in the front a small distance separating her from the herd who did their best trying to keep up.  The other bulls and heifers wondered when they saw such imposing figure leading them without apparent goal, but her presence was so intense that they never considered parting her side for even a second… if so they could have it, some of them with their bodies unable to keep with their desire. Yet all of them wondered when they saw her go onwards, without tire specially when they slowed in their march due to weariness, if Khumy’thria was even mortal, or even with them, as they could swear that the very air itself parted ways to let her pass through unhindered trailblazing ahead to what seemed an unreachable distance yet right before their eyes a few meters ahead. They asked themselves if this was a ghost they followed or Mighty Tauro Herself, the First Ancestor. Such was her resoluteness that it seemed Divine. On and on they marched, leaving on the ground testimony of their passing leaving rudimentary trails for other pilgrims yet to come to travel by. Finally, when all those that would fall had fallen no longer to stand, and only those where to remain did without any prior warning, nor any previous indication… suddenly she stopped, and all of them stopped in unison before her all at once, frozen in anticipation of what would happen next. Her Unquestionable Leader, took a massive breath as if trying to suction  the entirety of it within her capable lungs, let out a soft sigh, slowly turned to face those fervent followers of hers, and addressed for the very first time to those who four countless of moons stood behind her, to those who survived and even those that did not…

 
She told them of her vision, of how the herds had grown too big and uncontrollable for their own good. Fighting even with one another over a sheer fluctuation of testosterone, with disastrous consequences. She told them how incongruent had the herds become, that it made it terribly easy for others to take advantage of their chaotic nature. That if things continued as they did, all other races and nations would see to divide them, and submit them in order to enslave their indomitable spirits

[Mastron]

Another part that was saved. I used to write this story partially in a notebook, and then pass it to PC, but lost access to the drive I used to save and lost the notebook before most of it was transcribed.
Some more thoughts and scales. The strongest of matriarchs, and please understand that this herd in their superiority had corrected the sexual dimorphism so females were more muscular than males. Easily they could reach 8ft wide shoulder to shoulder. But a tent that could be used by a group of them merely was a tent to cover up Des'moonah's back (I changed her name from the original to hide the original character), still revealing much of herculean bosom and her ridiculous quacking abs.

Des'moonah's only equal was Gracia'Kha, both girls monstrously massive in muscles, but Gracia'Kha was shorter, but her bosom was massive as well. It was a tug-of-war between them, Gracia'Kha's wiles almost tempted Des'moonah to have sex, and could actually feel Des'moonah's strength overpower even her... However because Des'moonah was the paragon of temperance, she contained herself, because she was afraid that under the influence of Gracia'Kha she'd grow equally bloodlust. Des'moonah wanted to reign the other in. When Des'moonah escaped the herd, after killing her mother (her mother is like... an Electra complex inverted? Mother was jealous at daughter's superiority, and being born muscular and with horns, she was almost torn in half at birth, and incapable of having any children ever again), Gracia'Kha killed her own mother (right hand of Des'moonah's mother,  Matriatch of Matriarchs of the herd) and went after Des'moonah. Upon the pool where the young taurian escapee branded herself, Gracia'Kha fought the pangs to tackle and rape the other, as she saw her partner so bewitching, but understood why she had escaped. At that moment she pledged to take control of the herd.

Under Gracia'Kha's guidance, the herd developed art, and religion. She was worshipped as a living goddess, including by the lesser races. Her power and allure so extreme that one of the first pieces of art was a sculpture carved in honor and image of Gracia'Kha. There was an arc of stories where to the herd, the spite of Des'moonah's mother was so extreme that she was reincarnated into this albino taurian matriarch, finally a representation fo the power that she so much craved and envied of her daughter. Still, this Incarnate knew how superior both her daughter and Des'moonah were, that her best bet was to use her wiles and subterfuge to bank on Gracia'Kha's primal instincts, and lust for sex and showing of her strength, that she successfully steered the cult around her into an almost death cult, and made Gracia'Kha more bloodthirsty, with the culmination that the herd's instinction was dawning closer than could be expected....
 



***************
Gracia'Kha amused at realizing that the herd uses
tattoos similar to her for battle, representation of
what they most fear and worship, the thing which they
know will paralyze with terror their foes:  visage of
Gracia'Kha. Gracia'Kha in acknowledgement of them stops
fighting lets some of the puny foes lash at her, she
laughs, lift him by the neck, rubs his erection
against her abs, then gives him a deadly kiss crushing
puny skull against her face, she stands there musing
at how funny it is to be able to kill everyone without
even trying, and most funny at all is that they
wouldn't mind, in fact it was she who placed the
"choosing" the sacrifices whom she was going to fuck,
because at first it was through volunteers and half
the herd offered themselves to her, all to be  a
single night with her in what would be the greatest
day of their entire lives. She'd laugh imagining how
easy it would be just to flex and crush them instantly
without any effort, oh the force of will she possessed
to contain herself, the  only real and profoundest
reason she didn't do it was because she knew Des'moonah
was bound to return seeking for the herd, and she
didn't want to remove the reason for her to return.
Ever.
 
She felt someone humping her, and rubbing against her
indomitable flesh of titanium, she smiled as she saw
that it was the Shadow, finally grown the balls to do
something else than follow her and stalk her, she felt
a moisture throughout her legs. She laughed at the
puny finally growing valiant enough, or more valiant
than she should have to hump her like that, of course
it wasn't like she wasn't helping due to her
perfection, and that she was fisting herself, instead
of the usual barrage of destruction she unleashed in
combat. No, not today. Today she wanted to let her
herd have fun, and as an acknowledgement to their
improvement she'd let them have the fun of
exterminating the foes. She stared at the Shadow,
caressed his cheek and gave a miniscule flex of her
thigh that pushed the Shadow away as the thigh
exploded in ultra massiveness, a startled and
awestruck expression on his face. She increased her
flex with a snap, delicately still but ever forcefully
sending the paralyzed taurian a few feet away sliding
against the floor. She tut him, saying that it wasn't
nice to have all the fun. Just when she was going to
approach him, a most beautiful matriarch approached
her and kneeled before her, oh she was beautiful
alright, of course nowhere near the lineage nor her
especially not her and Des'moonah, but she was fine. But
enough beauty and strength to make that witch, she
flexes in anger at her thought, feel jealous. She
flashbacked at the time when that witch beat severely
at one of the most beautiful taurians she had ever
seen who had been FORCED by the witch to challenge her
for the position of Matriarch of Matriarch, wanting to
make herself feel big. Oh, how she beat on her and
came close to disfiguring her, how dare she Gracia'Kha
thought. That was the day when the last drop spilled
the glass. The witch was a bitch with her own daughter
and her love, that which was so inferior to her yet
she led, she was incompetent due to her jealously and
that stupid attitude. Yes, that was the night that she
was going to crush her. Or would've if something that
amused her didn't happen that night. She remember how
fully pumped after demolishing a mountain trying to
release her anger she told herself she couldn't take
it, and made her way to that witch's tent. She moved
gracefully, not wanting to catch any attention, which
was impossible, unless she really wanted it. Because
yes, despite her bulk, and beauty, when she didn't
want to be seen she simply wasn't seen thanks to her
graceful movements and perfect control of her body.
She entered, her massive breasts always a prelude to
what was to come, she wanted the witch to realize who
was coming, she felt a tingling across her engorged
nipples, and knew that the witch had slashed at her
with her swords. She laughed knowing that that witch
was incapable of even scratching her. She thrust one
massive arm out and grasped the witch by the jaw and
flexed, to shoot pain across her, but making sure not
to collapse her jaw there and then. She lifted the
witch off the ground and talked her, practically
spitting on her face. She told her, now listen you
filth, don't yell or run, or I'll won't simply crush
you to a pulp, I'll make you suffer ever waking moment
of this night and leave you crippled for life as my
lap dog, understood? Then she violently tossed her to
the floor. The witch recollected herself slowly,
Gracia'Kha had to accept that she looked stunning, but
hey who cares? She stared at her staring back at her,
yes indeed the fear and utter awe that all felt was
always there, but much to her favour a tinge of anger
was there of wanting to lash at her, but she was wise
enough not to do so, or else that would've been an
immediate death wish.
 
 
A tear ran out of the witch's
mouth out of frustration, always frustrated feeling
inferior to her and her own daughter, no matter how
hard she trained or stunning she felt she always felt
eclipsed by her and her ego for that matter felt
threatened by many, the tear represented her desire to
retaliate but realizing her impotence against the
infinite power before her. Gracia'Kha smiled at her, realizing,
knowing what was going on, she speaks to her in an
assuring fashion, grasping her massive breasts,
caressing fondling them, teasing her impaling nipples,
and taunted at the witch saying her, noticing how her
view was permanently fixed on her bosom, on her. Like my
bosom? I've noticed you witch always stare at it, bet
you wished you had it, didn't you? Wished you were me,
instead of the pathetic puny that you are? I'm a
million times more matriarch than you, you know that.
MMMm.... oooh, she sighed to increase her taunting and
exploiting the hold she had on her, she tilted her head
and let a massive flex her body exploding with muscle.
She chuckled as she heard the witch let out a gasp.
she sternly stared at her, and told her that it was
time to die, that she'd snap her neck. She neared at
her arms at her face, cold sweat pouring down her, she
felt her shiver in her grasp, but she went completely
stone cold as she felt Gracia'Kha caress her face instead of
just crushing her, like that Gracia'Kha said? Just making time,
wanting to make the witch go crazy for her lust and
fear of her. Then she found herself chucking as the
witch grabbed her omnipotent palm and started licking
it, kissing it, Gracia'Kha let the witch lead her hand which
otherwise wouldn't of budged, ever without her not
wanting. The witch run Gracia'Kha's open palm across her body,
tracing every contour, teasing and squashed her huge
breasts with her arm, always moaning, sighing with
pleasure. She passed her arm across her stomach... and
then up to her wet box. Gracia'Kha laughed seeing how
desperately horny was the witch for her. Then and thee
witch started humping Gracia'Kha's hand, Gracia'Kha smiled and decided
to blow her mind away. She made a fist, making sure to
leave her index finger pointed forward, and shoved it
deep down the witch's cunt. The witch squealed in
ecstasy, trembled and moaned in delight, Gracia'Kha's finger dug
deeper, and then... with a casual motion, Gracia'Kha flexed her
huge arm upwards,  hoisting the witch's dead weight
with her. Hold on to my massive bicep, puny, she told
the witch, whom without hesitating did as told,
trying to envelope her arm with her bosom, licking and
kissing the hot young flesh of the owner. Gracia'Kha started
flexing her forearm up and down, thrusting the witch
with it, but more importantly fingering her until she
felt splatter after splatter of her juices against her
arm. She smiled, increasing her pace, grabbing her
left bosom with her free arm and fondling herself.
This just sent the witch wild, who like a wild animal
started thrusting herself against her arm and moaning
in total delight, her eyes went white. She extended
her arms trying to grasp Gracia'Kha's breast, desperately
wanting them. Gracia'Kha chuckled, and not realising her
finger from her box neared her to her cleavage.
Instantly, the witch wrapped her legs across Gracia'Kha's
narrow waist, and started rubbing against her abs,
humping her. Gracia'Kha then removed her hand off her, and
wrapped it around the witch's tight ass, pressing her
against her body. The witch started slobbering Gracia'Kha's
humongous bosom, wanting to be lost between her
cleavage. Gracia'Kha laughed, and frowning pressed the witch
hard with her other arm against her bosom flexing,
enough to let the witch feel being wrapped by her huge
mounds but always feeling the iron muscle underneath
that could crush her like a grape. She told her, you
like this don't you? You are my lap dog after all,
remember that i could crush you like a bug without
even trying, she increased the pressure sending the
witch squirm both in pain and due to near suffocation
as she was being smothered and constricted by Gracia'Kha's
infinitely gorgeous body. Gracia'Kha smiled, noticing the
witch's squirming weakening, Ha, you struggled like an
animal, I'm impressed. And just before she would let
the witch pass out she whispered, know that I can
crush you whenever I want and there is nothing you
could do about it. From this day forward, if I feel
like it I'll come here give you puny pleasure as no
one can and blow your mind with the object of your
jealousy keep in mind that if I feel like it that
would be the last thing you'd experience. SHe gave one
last massive flex, two of the witch's ribs and
dislocating her shoulder, she let her unconscious body
slide off her body and lie on the floor surrounded by
a puddle of her juices, she chuckled and left. Oh, how
right was she, so prophetic she was because that is
exactly how later on the witch would end up dying, by
her hands one of the witch's greatest fears and
jealousies. "We, we , we have an offering for you
Goddess" the ,youthful and hot matriarch finally spoke
out snapping her back to reality. She stared at her,
as she regained focus, and realized that upon
reminisce she had begun fisting herself, a puddle
accumulating on her feet. Yes, the youthful matriarch
was dumbstruck by this casual display of sexuality
and power, they all were. The Shadow had long ago
regained her feet, erect as a flagpole. Gracia'Kha chuckled
smeared some of her juices on her bosom, told the
matriarch to rise. Neared her, gave her a most
passionate kiss, letting the matriarch's bountiful
bosom be squashed and feel the Gracia'Kha's massive and warm one,
shivers went down her spine.  Gracia'Kha smeared some of her
juices on the matriarch's cleavage who moaned with
delight. The matriarch fell to a knee. Gracia'Kha smiled and
approached the shadow who was just inches away. She
let his boner rub and press against her massive thigh
instantly ejaculating, she rubbed is liquid and boner
against her leg, making ejaculate again and again. she
laughed. let go of him, and smeared the huge amount of
liquid over her massive thigh until she was dry,
tapped the shadow's check and move on wanting to see
what was this offering. Her ass naturally wiggling, oh
the shadow just wanted to approach her, but then
swiftly the youthful matriarch who was on the floor
wanting to have her sexual released grasped him and
quickly thrust him to the floor, the shadow moaning
his hand thrusting towards Gracia'Kha, Gracia'Kha hearing the commission
faced towards them, neared a hand to her face and
tittered as she saw the youthful and hot matriarch
straddle the poor shadow wanting to ride him, the poor
shadow strugglin futilely to escape her. Gracia'Kha told him,
sorry babe, looks live you'll be busy. Better stop
struggling and enjoy. I'm sure I would. She smiled
leaving the shadow fall victim to the matriarch,
engulfing him with her mounds, her hot moans
surrounding the area.
 
 
Gracia'Kha approached the area, and found all the rest of the
herd kneeling in her honor, a huge square object in
the middle of her. Something obviously covered by a
massive blanket. Gracia'Kha thrust her chest forward, met with
sighs of delight, wiggling her behind she closed to
the box and said? Is this a surprise for me? Grasping
the cloth she swiftly pulled ripping the cloth in
half, then released her grip letting both half fall to
the floor. What was hidden was revealed to her: a
massive steel cage, inside dozens of krokani of all
ages and sizes, the vast majority well muscled studs.
Gracia'Kha smiled turned to speak to her herd expressing her
gratitude. One of the matriarchs told Gracia'Kha that those
were the best of the best from the village, well, at
least those they managed to capture without killing,
and that the had caught them in her honor to dispose
of them at her leisure. Sacrifices to her Goddess. Gracia'Kha
suddenly felt a tickle against her neck, she laughed,
guessing what it was and how the krokani would be
realizing that thrusting her with a knife, no matter
the proximity wouldn't even scratch her. She turned,
and precisely there stood the biggest and bulkiest of
the Krokani, her leader she thought, and on his
trembling hands a broken knife and the hilt, on the
floor the edge. He stood there stuttering, mumbling,
shaking like crazy incapable of believing what had
just happened. Gracia'Kha chuckled, specially harder after
noticing that the Krokani was erect, very erect, then
she noticed that everyone was. She laughed, and teased
the Krokani in a very seductive voice Is your twin
brother standing in salute to me, you one eyed
monster? The Krokani losing it  grasped the cold iron
with his hands, and began thrusting his member across
the orifice of the cage, wanting to hump
Gracia'Kha,desperately wanting to screw her. Gracia'Kha got closer, her
massive bosom bending the cage inward, threatening to
burst it open, nearing herself closer to the Krokani
who ejaculated as he felt the underside of her massive
bosom and rock-hard abs press against him. Gracia'Kha
chuckled, and then thrust one arm swiftly through the
iron, bending and breaking the bars as if they were
nothing, grasping the back of the Krokani's head and
pulledbanging his puny head against the steel bars,
collapsing it squeezing it through the orifices of the
bars, and kissed it. Gracia'Kha retrieved her arm and let the
headless, severely crushed and relatively puny Krokani
drop to the floor, a bloody mess, her massive arm
leaving a gaping whole of twisted and broken bars. The
krokani knew full well of this whole where they could
attempt escape, but they knew that they were safer
inside, no, they weren't safe anywhere but they didn't
even dare breath or do anything to catch that Goddess'
attention, much less try to escape. The pressed
against one another against the other side of the
cage. Gracia'Kha laughed at them, and called them smart. Then
grabbing a selected member of bars she violently begun
to twist and turn, bending the steel like putty, bend
after bend, her muscles exploding massively with
power, the half of the steel cage being crushed into
nothing more than a mesh effortlessly by her grip.
She released her grip, her work done: the cage
effectively cut in half, crushed and twisted, wrapped
on itself, effectively leaving the cage smaller and
too tight for the fortunate for living Krokani. Gracia'Kha
peered at her feet, noticing a bloody smear and a heap
of flesh and blinked as she realized how
unintentionally she had grinded the Krokani's corpse
unto nothing. She smiled. And waved at the startled
and clearly agitated and crumpled up krokani, then she
grasped the cage by the mesh she made and with one
violent swing of her arms and a swoop sent the cage
flying across the sky several miles into the air. She
teased to her adoring herd, "Flying away and away did
the Krokani go, where will they land' Nobody knows".
There they stood transfixed, every inch of their
bodies telling them to crawl to her Goddess and
worship, and so they did. Gracia'Kha laughed, accepting shortly
this menstrations, then she flexed sending the
congregated to the floor. She rose her finger and
tutted, them, telling them that that wasn't nice. That
today was "day of the sacrifice", so they'd had to
wait for tonight, much to their relief, she announced
that today she was planning on selecting 20 to join
her and be in paradise.
 
Night fell, the fires were blazing, and there and then
all the herd were jumping like small children begging
Gracia'Kha to please be selected. Every single one of them. Gracia'Kha
noticed the shadow and the hot matriarch from earlier
on the front. The matriarch using her impressive bulk
to disperse the crowd that dared strip her of
attention, and the shadow with his always eternally
begging gaze. Gracia'Kha smiled at them, and was oh so tempted
to choose them. She being the same age of the matriarch
imagined on being the first person to strip the
virginity of such a delicious specimen, such a
delicious fruit to eat, her strong and muscular body
shivering against Gracia'Kha's infinitely powerful grasp as she
caressed her softly. Her globes thrusting forward to
meet Gracia'Kha's colossal planets, pressing together. But Gracia'Kha
pondered otherwise, shorly that matriarch would prove
to be valuable for the advancement of the herd later
on so killing her so early wouldn't be a terrible
waste. And then she thought of the shadow, oh how she
wanted to just blow his brains off, naughty kid, one
year older than her, humping her unawares the way he
did, tsk, he obviously deserves a spanking. But no,
she thought otherwise, maybe because she pitied him,
in  away she pitied all of them wanting to be
fucked by this goddess who was so infinitely powerful
and gorgeous beyond them, that compared to her they
were pathetically puny and frail cockroaches that
deserved to be crushed, even when such sessions meant
their instantaneous death. They simply didn't care and
were all too eager to sacrifice themselves to her, if
only to be with her a single night. But the shadow,
yes, not sure why she pitied him more than the rest.
Was it because she enjoyed teasing him as she did? She
didn't know, so she decided not to select him. She
picked her 20 cohorts for the night.
 
They moved to her private tent, she entered and the
assembled gathered around her, all licking their lips
in anticipation for what was to come. A breeze started
blowing strongly lifting Gracia'Kha's usual cloth that barely
covered her nipples, and sent it sailing, Gracia'Kha' raised
her arms behind her head, and just as the wind for a
moment held the cloth sailing in front of her, the herd
all gasped in delight, drooling, then magically as if
the wind was her conspirator, the cloth finally flew
off her entirely leaving her uncovered and just as it
was to touch the floor, Gracia'Kha' let out a massive moan and
let her body explode with her strength, her arms
expanding, her veins protruding more, her bosom
violently thrusting forward threatening to crush
anything that stood between her. Her tree trunk thighs,
exploding, crushing the floor as they expanded and her
legs simply became so massively engorged with muscle.
Her nipples became supra erect, threatening to impale,
and as big or bigger than the bull's erections, her
luscious golden mane a framework of her perfection.
The congregated dropped to their knees, some of them
exploding not able  take anything more. She smiled and
closed her eyes hearing their moans of delight, and she
herself dropped to a knee, and stayed there immobile,
knowing what was to come, wanting to force her
worshippers do the only thing they could possibly do,
and they did... All of them, all of the 20 approached
her, started caressing her body, licking her face,
rubbing against her, humping her body, her abs, her
ass, her legs, her thigh, her breast, inclusive her
face. She just stood there smiling letting each and
everyone one of them work themselves to a barrage of
explosive orgasm one after the other as she let them
do whatever they pleased with her willing flesh. She
inadvertently neared her arms to her breasts, and started
caressing them, instantaneously crushing without
noticing the head and upper torso of a matriarch that
was kneeling licking a portion of her massive breast,
and a hot stud of a taurian that was desperately
humping her bosom like a puppy. Gracia'Kha moaned as she felt
the wetness of their blood against her bosom rubbed
it against her body. She chuckled. Quickly a group of
taurians huddled over to take over the empty space.
Yes, there was enough Gracia'Kha for all of them, but they
greedily wanted her whole.
 
 
Gracia'Kha heard moans, and squeals from outside of the tent,
and she knew what it was, the moonlight not helping
keep the mystery as a silhouette formed on one of the
white tent walls. Gracia'Kha smiled in comprehension. Grasped
the last two remaining taurians by her armpits, and
the hot matriarch who was eating her in a leg vice and
crushed them instantly. She crawled towards the source
of the noise, smiling, her massive breasts somewhat
squashing against the floor, digging against the floor
as she pushed forward unrelenting. She stared at the
silhouette who was 100% surely pleasuring himself to
Gracia'Kha's moans, her smell, the smell of her juices that
where oh so overwhelming, and the screams of pleasure
and pain from the herd, she wondered if he had been
there all night long, probably he was, she had just
chosen to ignore him. Now there he was, lost to
himself pleasuring himself because no one else could,
Gracia'Kha recognized that he  had let go a moan twice in
succession, surely going off more than twice in less
than a minute, how many times had he gone off? Naughty
boy, Gracia'Kha thought. Then with stunning speed she thrust
one massive arm forward, grasped the bull by the leg
and pulled the dragging and screaming like crazy body
in. And there he was, the shadow. Always following
her, as usual. Pleasuring himself where Gracia'Kha had failed
to do so before, part of the sacrifice yet not
entirely so.  Gracia'Kha dragged the body well inside. Then
lowered herself on top of him, being careful not to
crush the puny with her massive bosom or ungodly
muscular bulk. Teasingly, and catlike she scaled him,
making sure he felt the warmth of her mounds across
his flesh. He moaned in delight, his erection furiously
poking against her. She neared his face, told him to
shhh with her finger which she then placed on his
mouth. He sucked at it leisurely, she neared his face
to her to plant a passionate kiss, her massive bosom,
squashing somewhat against his muscular chest,
threatening to collapse his upper torso there and then
as all the bones painfully bent to their limit as
her massive breast completely engulfed his pathetic
and frail in comparison. The kiss was so sensual
and hot enough to send him exploding right there and
then. Gracia'Kha laughed as he felt the shadow thrust upward,
incapable of lifting Gracia'Kha's glorious bulk. Gracia'Kha, sat down on
his abdomen, her glorious, luscious, perfect behind,
big enough to cover his chest and stomach, she gave
small butt flexes letting her awesome muscular behind
go off like wildfire throwing small doses of pain
and pleasure to her hapless victim and more willing
seducee. Her bosom, so massive that it extended
forward and forward, that was practically all the poor
fool could see, much to his delight. To add insult to
injury, Gracia'Kha thrust her bosom forward, and the shadow
could do nothing more but grasp it, yearning to near
her bosom to his dry anticipating mouth. Gracia'Kha smiled,
nothing she was driving him crazy. Somewhat turning,
and with difficulty due to her massive physique, with
muscles rubbing against each other, Gracia'Kha managed to grasp
the shadow's massive organ with her hand and started
working him there and then. She slightly bent forward
nearing her bosom closer to his face, he crazily
began lapping at it licking like a mad man. Gracia'Kha laughed
and moaned huskily, as she felt his wetness and
excitement go beyond evident as the shadow began to
ejaculate in her perfect arm time after time after
time again, and again, with a seemingly endless supply
of spunk.
 
 
Gracia'Kha fucked the poor bastard all night long, not kill
him, but left him in an entirely catatonic state of
total stupor.
 
Something that amused Gracia'Kha was that in new invasion
campaigns of destruction, she'd find the preys of her
raids kneeling before her in expectation, always with
some sort of offering, be it food, fresh fruits, their
greatest and most succulent cuts of meat, liquor, or
some strapped virgins for her to take, sometimes and
very common she'd even find that some sort of monument
had been erected in her honor. Statues finely crafted
by monsters out of marble, gold, granite, jade,
whatever precious substance they had at their
disposal, but always of course far from catching Gracia'Kha's
perfect reality. This amused Gracia'Kha to no end and decided
to bestow upon the puniest of punies, those who
weren't of her herd or even taurian, her grace and
allow them to be part of her philosophy. She'd become
the architect of their existence as she as she had
been doing with the herd, cull the herd or clans of
the punies she met. She'd anihhiliate the weak, frail,
incredibly old and sick, sometimes screwing them to
death letting only their best specimens to live. She'd
warn them as her expedition would continue, that she'd
be back, that now they were forced to reproduce making
sure that only the best among them could survive, but
that in the end all would be lost, because she and her
herd would someday return and crush them to all pulp
as it was destiny: everything fall under her feet and
her herd, for she was the epitome of perfection and
her herd her chosen.

[Mastron]

For reference, here's a lore pic of the Taurian race from the Lusternia website:




I always LOVED that pic

[Mastron]

An arc that I lost spoke of the Succession. Though the matriarchy was an "open democracy" decided by wrestling, only the direct descendants of Khumy’thria, Relate tell of Khumy’thria, Grand Matriarch of All With Hooves and Horns, Mountain to Serve as Foundation for the Herd were strong enough to lead them. So, it was effectively a succession by genes. Khumy’thria's daughter was named Tue'Kharo. Spurned by her mother, Tue'Kharo and Khumy'thria did battle for days and weeks. Wrestling, destroying and terraforming landscapes. In the end, heaving her conquering chest the younger daughter beat her mother. The battle was meant to be to the death. Giving her mother for dead, Tue'Kharo actually lifted a mountain and erected it ontop of Khumy'thria's body as a mausoleum. One of the few sacred places of the tribe. Years later, unknown to Tue'Kharo, the dome, the resting place was left empty. Rumors, or rather said, the silent truth was that Khumy’thria had such Indomatible (Infinite) Will, that not even death could vanquish her. However, because she deemed her succession was needed and that her task was done, she slipped past mortal ken, entrusting the lineage and the herd to her daughter.

And from Tue'Kharo came forth Des'moonah's mother. Due to some happenings, Tue'Kharo's daughter was more sleek, and though shredded and powerful, wasn't equal mass as Tue'Kharo. WHat she lacked in size she made up with fury, and battle prowess.... Unfortunately, this also meant that under her reign was the one plagued by the most Trials for Power and challenges by the other Matriarch. Reason why seeing how monstrous Des'moonah was on birth, that Tue'Kharo's daughter fret for her reign, concluding that her own daughter would end her reign much sooner than later. Tue'Kharo herself faked her own death, too, at this point she discovered the truth of Khumy'thria empty tomb. However, she had entrusted the herd to the coming generations vowing not to interfere and be a ghost....