Tutty The Fruity
patreon
Prompt: Of Man, Lamia, and Goddesses (P13-14)
🕑 Added 2023-08-13 16:13:46 +0000 UTCSummary: In a parallel universe much like our own, a series of divine mishaps creature a world where lamia replace human females as the eternal partners for men. What follows is a series of vignettes of how this world evolved over time. Commissioned by downhillrabbit6.1 for the months of June and July 2023.
---
Part 13 (Jun '23)
Year ????
As lamia settled into Southeast Asia, and as their influence swelled, not all who called this place their domain looked upon the lamia with fondness, nor welcomed them with open arms. Even the gods—other than Synt herself, the matriarch of all lamia—looked none too kindly on the invasive species.
However, though the power of a god was powerful, there were always imposed limits to their reach, and a godly matriarch of one species had no direct will to bring down upon another species. Such was the careful balance of the world, so long as goddesses were left to craft their own special gardens, and never collude to bring about calamity. Someone had to ruin it for everyone, though.
Chaukorgaara the Builder, a caretaker of the vast region, had spent many moons agonizing over the lamia situation in their own backyard. A colossal, stonecraft goddess of many faces (at least three of which looked in all directions, as if chiseled on a granite block) as well as a dozen arms, always flexing for something to build in reach, they watched the lamians settle into human colonies, usurp their priestesses, and establish eye-sore brothels across rivers and coastlines. Chaukorgaara prided herself on being a protector of barriers, a cultivator of groves to withstand terrible floods, a blesser of roads and bridges... but as spirituality between her own temple and her followers was waning, as the lamia, being the blasphemers they are, made debaucheries of her places of worship.
And when the Builder turned to vengeance and destruction, caution tremors and quakes with their stomping, stone-footed temper tantrums, the lamia simply retreated to the seas! It was infuriating!
It was rare for a goddess to display self-reflection and humility, as the nature of their universal function demanded some degree of inflated self-appraisal. But Chaukorgaara was at the end of their rope. Her patron followers did not handle the encroachment with as much grace as the slimes; the golems were hunted and displayed as trophies, or used as bases for art... a proud, hardy race, made the subject of trophy hunting!
Chaukorgaara had to swallow her pride, which hit her gut like a boulder. Lumbering to the outskirts, she summoned Pastoria, the patron goddess of the centaurs, to council and offer aid and riches to her people... an alliance to ensure the security of the region.
Pastoria, like many goddesses, rarely deigned to traverse the mortal realm, but generations of offerings made to her, plundered from the riches of mainland China and India, had been kindly welcomed. Though Chaukorgaara had heard many stories of the centaurs as nomadic huntresses, living off the land and living within fragile means, Pastoria betrayed her expectations. Despite her enormous, hulking figure, punctuated by her overabundant chest, Pastoria's entire form was bespeckled with layers of jewelry, intricate gold plating decorated with jewels... even her weapon of choice was gaudy, and resembled a two-handed staff suited for a queen, rather than a spear for hunting.
"You yearn for an alliance?" Pastoria twisted the shaft of the jewel-encrusted spear in her hands. "Certainly, I would love to assist in pushing the lamia to the brink, but my followers find your lands... musty, unbearable, terribly muddy too."
"My people can construct the stone-work roads suitable for your kind." Chaukogaara stood at attention. "The lamia used rivers as entryways into the land, as roads of water. You will have need of something firmer."
"Hmmmm..." Pastoria tilted their head. "That would make for a charming welcome wagon for the Mongol Herd. And now that I think of it..."
Her finger, wrapped in half a dozen jewel-encrusted rings, clicked against the shaft of her spear. Pastoria considered, before her smile widened.
"Why stop at just the lamia?" Pastoria raised her spear, clinking her staff against the ground. "The human men are a distraction, an aberration against the design of the world, and as much children of Synt now as they ever were. You recall that foul devouring the beastkind goddess performed..."
"........" Chaukogaara, forgive the pun, remained stone-faced.
"Why not kill two birds with one stone?" Pastoria grinned.
"The harpies perished with the lamian incursion." Chaukogaara. "They devoured their eggs. None were spared. You will find no birds to stone."
"...You're a literal one, aren't you." Pastoria sighed. "To speak plainly then: we avenge your land by exterminating the lamians and the humans, and restore the world land to how it was before. The deposed goddesses will return to cultivate their gardens, and all will be as it was~"
"The golems will assist in your cause." Chaukogaara nodded. "The land is scarred, but it will recover."
"However!" Pastoria raised a hand. "The centaurs will help themselves to all the fruits, spoils, and riches of these new, bawdry settlements, and bring them back to the Centaur Heartland. After a mighty conquest, they will certainly wish to bring their offerings unto me..."
Again, Chaukogaara said nothing. She had little use for what couldn't already be found in the soil; golems were capable alchemists, making miracles out of the earth's elements.
"...It will be done." Chaukogaara. Though Pastoria seemed as though she had been spoilt and fattened with enough riches over generations, centuries even, she couldn't deny the Mongol Horde's mettle in fighting the lamian menace.
The goddess of the golems understood the terrible omen that would come; goddesses were not supposed to collude in such matters, and their combined power would surely invite calamities, disasters, and misfortune for the mortal world in spades. It was the nature of the universe that, if two goddesses were to collaborate and profit, all the others would bring themselves down to bear, to restore the balance of power.
But mankind was a disturbing exception to that heavenly rule: their proliferation, adaptability, and hardy stubbornness made them a difficult pest to expunge from the earth. Pastoria and Chakogaara hoped that the lesser goddesses would turn a blind eye to their combined strike against the insidious Synt, that foul conglomeration of so many lesser goddesses.
The following years would invite new innovations, new roads cutting through continents... and a second wave of Mongol Herd invasions, now thirstier than ever for plunder and booty.
Part 14 (Jul' 23)
One of the most historically significant cultural artifacts recovered from Southeast Asia is "The Twisting Vines", a dramatized account of a relationship between a lamia and a slime woman culminating in the trials brought about by the Second Centaur Invasion. Despite the historical backdrop, the series of stories were published several centuries later. The romanticized view of lamia/slime dynamics has coloured modern perceptions well beyond the purview of the war itself. Though the story takes on particular embellishments (and is ultimately a fictionalized account of a very real war), it has seen countless adaptations over centuries of storytelling...
---
As slimes were subservient to lamia, it was unheard of that their social statures would ever cross paths, apart from the nature of doing business. Slimes were common rabble, and lamia were exotic rulers, and commoners did not mingle with nobility.
Lima, a slime commoner, was cut from a similar cloth to her peers. Still, she took to the family trade well as a livestock farmer, and she was sure she would make her matron slime proud. She worked hard and played hard, and cultivated a keener intellect than many of her pliable peers.
Lima anticipated a rather mundane life, had it not been for one fateful day, where the curiosities of a noble lamia, clad in a disguise, snuck into the family farm. Lamia, with their natural gifts of camouflage, were adept at getting into places they weren't supposed to... a skill that seemed like a distant memory, considering their stature in society.
"You're looking particularly ravishing today, Lima~" The noble lamia greeted her, as if shimmering into view (seemingly in the nude at that; the sight of a bare-chested lamia was enough to simmer the lime-hued slime... never mind that she had put a name to that seductive face.
"Miss Mipra!?" Lima stammered. "W-what are you doing here? You shouldn't be out of the royal palace!"
"Shh. Be at ease." She pressed a tanned finger to Lima's lips. "Merely sampling the goods. I understand my mother has taken a liking to your... product~"
She brushed a hand against Lima's cheek.
"It has certainly had an effect on you. You have a more... tender, pastel quality about you."
"Ah, well... when it comes to male semen, you can't beat organic." Lima nodded. "Would you... like to see the farm?"
Lima, wearing a soft smile, guided the noble Mipra towards an open field. Veiny plants that towered ten to twelve feet tall each swayed back and forth, visibly pulsing. As the two monster women approached, the plants began to rhythmically tense and relax, revealing the image of a humanoid figure inside.
"Our crops have been selectively raised for generations to efficiently extract and nourish the semen of its male host," Lima explained, tipping their hat as their eyes sparkled with pride. "And it sustains and cradles the human so that they never move a muscle, making the meat so delicate at the end of their productive life cycle..."
"Mmmmm... I hear uncut men are something of a delicacy in this region~" Mipra licked her lips, her long serpentine tongue revealing itself. Her eyes lowered to the sight of an enormous cock trying to burrow its way through the plant's step; Lima reached for an empty bottle at her side and outstretched her hand, groping the veiny green phallus until it writhed, wriggled, and spurted in a thick current of male seed, filling up the gallon-sized bottle in seconds.
Lima took a satisfying drink, before raising it to Mipra. "Care to sample our product...?"
"Ohhh, I prefer my drink raw, and from the source~" Mipra cooed, slithering forward to wrap her tail around the base of the stem, squeezing tenderly, then tightly as she coiled around the plant, her claws digging into the plant. She squeezed and relaxed repeatedly, unhinging her jaw to fit the girth, two-foot-long cock into her mouth. She moaned loudly and ecstatically—the muffled shouting of the trapped man inside writhing in a panic, which only served to press more of his warped phallus against the back of her thirsting throat.
Lima felt herself getting flushed at the sight of Mipra's hedonistic display, trickles of hot slime flowing down her forehead and cheeks. She stirred, trying to ignore the growing puddle extending around where her feet would be.
"Oh, be gentle, the plant is, erm, delicate..." Lima raised a finger to object, her eyes widening as the stalk of the plant yielded, slowly beginning to crack under Mipra's increasingly powerful coils. Vines from the plant slithered down to cover up the cracks, but as the plant tipped sideways, the petals of the flowering plant drooped, seemingly drooling with pre-cum...
There was a wail of surprise as something large slithered out from the bulb of the plant, leaving the plant-form cock Mipra caressed limp and deflated. Mipra turned towards a naked man that had crumpled to the ground, his body trembling, weak, and oversexed.
"You haven't satisfied me yet!~" Mipra descended upon the man, her ruby-scaled tail twisting around him... he was tender! As he whimpered pathetically, she raised him up and slowly unhinged her expectant jaw, moaning with pleasure as he slipped inside, pressing against the back of her throat, sliding into her stomach, muscles working together to pull him deeper and deeper inside of her.
Lima watched all this play out with a twisted smirk, her legs pressing together... she was glad that her biology made her constantly wet, or else she might have revealed something intimate to Mipra. Mipra licked her lips as her bulging navel shrunk, the mass she consumed whole flowing to her tail...
"My my... I'm sorry about that." Mipra purred. "Once I see something, I simply must have it. You understand, yes?"
"Of course..." Lima sighed. It was in the nature of lamia to take what they pleased and pay back nothing.
Mipra clapped her hands together, and drew closer to Lima; the slime woman blinked as the lamia's sequined tail pressed against her backside, cutting off her escape... she shuddered silently.
"What say I bring you back to my estate, and find something you like?" Mipra tilted her head. "As recompense for the hurt I caused you."
"But... your mother..." Lima gulped. "She would not be approving of your consorting with a commoner... and neither would mine-"
"Whatever they don't know can't hurt them~" Mipra leaned forward, her voice growing increasingly husky.
Lima had a feeling that Mipra was picking out her next prize to take home. A flurry of feelings washed over her: pride, excitement, terror, guilt... a little horniness too.
"...Of course, my mistress..." Lima yielded.
