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Visions of The Crystal Feast. Day 8
🕑 Added 2021-12-20 21:38:53 +0000 UTCThe eighth of our thirteen Thirteens made by the lovely Becsantus: O Katastrofeas. AKA The Destroyer.
Landing, not in modern day Sheffield, but Ancient Greece, this Doctor was taken in by the amazons. A formidable warrior, fondly known as The Destroyer by her sisters in arms, she nevertheless preferred making love to war, and spent most of her time when not travelling or fighting, fucking her sisters or the tribe's slaves.
-o-o-o-
“Cow!?” The Doctor shrieked, watching as the mockery of a bovine version of her jiggled and splashed about on top of her version of Yaz. “Oh you bitch!”
‘The Doctor has been a warrior in many universes, often by necessity, and to varying effect. Though many refuse to fight, let alone kill, unless provided no other alternative, many others have relished in violence and bloodshed. Some Doctors are darker by nature, others are made warriors by circumstance, such as a freshly regenerated Doctor who fell not onto twenty-first century Sheffield, but into the camp of Queen Penthesilea, in the ancient times of planet Earth…’
-o-o-o-
The sound of grunting and clashing flesh was hardly strange to hear in the camps of the Amazons, the legendary warrior women were the single finest fighting force on the earth, training regularly with bow, sword and spear, or just their raw, powerfully muscled bodies. If they weren’t training, they were resting, and if they weren’t sleeping, eating or bathing, that ‘rest’ came in the form of primal, violent sex.
Fighting, fucking, each usually led to the other. The Amazons had no shame about that, why should they. Men tried to control the women around them, tell them what they could do, what they could wear, what they could say. The Amazons were free to do whatever they pleased, however they pleased, hence the near constant sound of laughter, combat and passionate lesbian lovemaking that lingered over the camp.
Xanthe roared, bare feet digging into the dusty ground as Melanippe’s huge muscle-bound form crashed against her. Her hands grappled with her fellow amazon’s wrists as the raven-haired woman tried to grab her by the throat. Melanippe was huge, but Xanthe matched her for sheer bulk, the issue was more experience. Melanippe had been raised Amazon, Xanthe had only been adopted some years prior.
Melanippe grinned, teeth bared with victory, and lashed out with her feet. Xanthe shouted out with pain as Melanippe collided with her shins, knocking her off balance. As she stumbled back, Melanippe grabbed her by the scalp and yanked her head down as she brought her knee rushing upwards.
Xanthe could feel the impact in her teeth and tasted blood, staggering backwards in a daze. She braced for the next impact, tensing her abdomen and bringing her forearms forwards to shield her face from further blows, but they never came.
She grunted, staring blearily past her wrists to see Melanippe grinning and flexing her muscles to young Aella, flirting unashamedly mid-bout.
Xanthe hissed, spitting a wad of blood from her mouth and swiping her messy blonde hair out of her face. She shifted her weight, shook herself down, and pounced. One arm wound around Melanippe’s throat, the other around her waist, and before her fellow amazon could react, Xanthe hauled her up off the ground and threw her over her head, bringing her crashing to the ground along with herself.
Melanippe’s grunt of pain and surprise made Xanthe grin, and she rolled immediately to mount her dazed opponent. With her fists around Melanippe’s wrists and her weight crushing down on her thighs, Xanthe’s victory was assured.
“Too bad, sister.” She snarled, “Maybe you shouldn’t show off during a match?”
“Maybe you shouldn’t go easy on me.” Melanippe grinned back, pressing her body upwards and rubbing against Xanthe’s chest. “Is The Destroyer getting soft?”
“You know I don’t like that nickname.” Xanthe grunted, pushing herself down on Melanippe and pinning her to the dusty ground.
“You should take pride in your ability.” Melanippe hummed, shrugging as best she could. “Athena blessed you with your sharp mind, Ares gifted you this body, but it’s your commitment that has made you the finest warrior among us.”
“I don’t enjoy battle.” Xanthe mumbled, releasing Melanippe’s wrists and wiping the blood off her nose. “Killing, maiming… I hate it.”
“But it’s necessary.” Melanippe cooed, sitting up and stroking her palms over Xanthe’s heaving breasts. “To keep us free, to keep us strong. You’re only The Destroyer to our enemies, to us, you’re our favourite protector.”
She kissed Xanthe softly before shoving her belly hard enough to send the blonde tumbling off her. “Oof,” she grunted, struggling to her feet and dusting off her palms. “That was a good move, sister. I didn’t see you coming.”
“You made me angry.” Xanthe sighed, scowling as Melanippe’s eyes wandered over her body. “I can’t feel my nose.”
“Ah, it’s not broken.” Melanippe chuckled, stroking her cheek and kissing her again. “Come, let’s go bathe. This dust itches.” She reached down and grasped Xanthe’s palm, hauling her to her feet and brushing her shoulders off. Xanthe grunted, shaking herself down, her plump pale breasts jiggling with the motion and captivating her fellow amazon.
Xanthe rolled her eyes and shoved past Melanippe, shooting a stern look to Aella, who blushed guiltily. “I, ah… the queen allowed me the afternoon.”
“So you came to watch me wrestle.” Xanthe grunted. “You should train yourself, being a child won’t stop our enemies from slaying you, or men from desiring you.”
Aella pursed her lips, “I’m stronger than the others of my age, and I’m no child, I’m nineteen!”
“So long as you keep whining and pouting, you’ll be a child to me.” Xanthe replied brusquely, wiping her nose again. “Go, stop leering at my body and practice your spearwork.”
Aella scowled and marched away, muttering under her breath. Xanthe sighed and turned back to where Melanippe was waiting, eyes flitting from her face to her bare ass. “Are you coming or not?”
“You don’t have to be so hard on her, you know.” Melanippe said as they both slipped under the water of the nearby river a few minutes later. “She’s sweet on you.”
“She’s young, naïve, being tough is the best way to harden her up.” Xanthe muttered, stroking her fingers through her hair and letting the long golden locks fall messily back down to her shoulders. “If you hadn’t been tough on me when I came to the tribe, I wouldn’t be alive now.”
“Hm, maybe I was a little harsh, but it all came from a place of love.” Melanippe shrugged, swimming closer and smiling. “And look what you’ve become, sister… the fiercest, strongest, most beautiful General in The Queen’s camp.”
Xanthe bit her lip as Melanippe’s palms slipped over her abs, the rock-hard slabs of muscle tensing under her fingers, skin tingling excitedly at the touch. She knew her old mentor was flattering her, but it was true she had a lot to be proud of, and that was best showed by her body.
When she’d been found by the amazons she’d been small, soft, weak. Thanks to Melanippe’s brutal training, and later her own determination to never let anyone hurt her new family, she’d grown into the epitome of power. Her biceps bulged as she began stroking the water through Melanippe’s greying locks, her abs rippling with each slight motion she made. Thick, powerful thighs were obscured by the water, but were easily the size of some of her own head, and could crush bones with enough force. Whatever she’d been before, now anyone who saw her knew her as OKatastrofeas, The Destroyer.
“Slave! Come! Melanippe barked, turning her head and brushing her slight breasts up against Xanthe’s heavy chest, the only part of her that was soft and squishy and pliant.
A dark-skinned girl jumped at Melanippe’s roar, and nervously scurried down the bank to the water’s edge. “Yes, General?”
“Bring oils and perfumes, do you expect us to bathe ourselves?” Melanippe growled.
The slave-girl swallowed and shook her head. “No General, I’ll prepare everything at once.”
Xanthe watched her go. The girl seemed familiar somehow, but she didn’t remember seeing her around the camp before. She shrugged and dismissed the thought as Melanippe’s lips began working their way up her neck. There were hundreds of slaves in the camp, she couldn’t remember all their faces.
By the time the girl had prepared all that was required, Melanippe was riding atop Xanthe’s fingers, close to her edge and clutching her one-time pupil’s shoulders. “Gods… is there nothing you were not blessed to excel with?”
“My singing leaves much to be desired.” Xanthe rasped, biting Melanippe’s ear as her mentor croaked and bucked against her palm. “Clearly Apollo doesn’t care for me as much as his sibling…”
“Nyah!” Melanippe whimpered, “I’d swear your fingers would put even Artemis to shame, if it weren’t blasphemy.”
“But it is, so hush.” Xanthe smiled, locking her lips over Melanippe’s and pounding her digits into the older woman’s twat. Her former mentor’s gasp of bliss came with a fresh, warm wetness as she came, her muscular body quaking and tightening as she rode her orgasm.
A final breath of relief escaped Melanippe’s lips as Xanthe released, a moment passed and she smiled, caressing her former-pupil’s neck, before shrieking as Xanthe released her and she fell into the river.
Xanthe chuckled to herself, wading out of the water as Melanippe resurfaced, spluttering obscenities and gasping for air. She noted how the slave-girl quivered as she approached and admired her warm brown curves. If she was everything hard and strong, then this waif was everything small and soft and timid.
“Your name, slave?” she hummed, plucking a towel from her hands.
“Y… Yasmin, General.”
“You’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you Yasmin?” Xanthe purred, drying off her arms and chest before tossing the towel onto the dusty ground.
“I… um… if you say so, General.” Yasmin blushed, swallowing as Xanthe drew herself up to her full height and planted her titanic arms on her hips.
“Xanthe! I’ll tear you limb from limb you goat-fucking whore!” Melanippe roared.
“Not now, I’m busy.” Xanthe smiled, waving dismissively over her shoulder before placing her palm on Yasmin’s cheek and gripping her. “Are you from the south, Yasmin? Egypt, perhaps further?”
“Um, no.” Yasmin whispered, chest heaving with terror, and by the look in her eye, arousal. “East… from the Punjab.”
“I have not heard of it.” Xanthe hummed, cupping Yasmin’s chin and squeezing. “You will have to tell me, after I’ve finished with you.” She gave the girl a rough shove that sent her to her knees and grasped her by the hair.
“Xanthe! Don’t ignore me!” Melanippe barked, marching up beside her. She scowled and planted her hands on her hips, watching as Xanthe guided Yasmin’s blushing face to the golden-haired mound of her cunt. “Bah, what’s so special about this little slut?”
“Please me, and perhaps I’ll even return the favour, slave.” Xanthe smiled, pressing Yasmin against her womanhood and sighing lustfully as the girl obediently began to lick. “Good girl.”
“You are in the strangest mood today.” Melanippe grumbled, stalking around the pair as Xanthe began to groan, Yasmin’s quick pink tongue disappearing inside her petals, curling and darting with suspicious skill for such a young, and seemingly innocent, slave. She grunted and knelt down on the dirt, scowling at Yasmin as she went about her work, eyes closed in peaceful concentration.
“Why not… warm her up for me… sister?” Xanthe groaned, raking her fingers through Yasmin’s hair. “Then you may try her… lovely tongue.”
Melanippe grumbled under her breath, but still grabbed Yasmin by the rump and began to explore between her legs with one hand. Xanthe felt Yasmin’s breath hitch as Melanippe probed inside her, those big, brown eyes opening wide and staring up at her smiling face.
“Oh, we’re going to have fun with you, little Yasmin.” She growled, rolling her hips against the girl’s face and grinning as Melanippe began to fingerfuck the quivering girl into insanity. It didn’t take long for Yasmin to be moaning and sobbing for breath into her womanhood, eyes watering and mouth panting as she was mounted on Melanippe’s fist, her face still trapped against Xanthe’s cunt, lapping and slobbering with increasing mess, until the precious moments she was allowed to breathe.
“Very much fun indeed.”
