User blog:MockingJester/A primal land's citizen: mundane mining

The sun rises in this primal land, filtering out the bestial screeches of creatures unbathed by the atmosphere of the world. Some, not all. A majority, but not the entire denizens.

Amidst it all, many found the strength to survive within these razor-sharp beasts of teeth and claws. Fangs and talons, governed by reptiles in an overwhelming manner, seemingly having exhausted any other brand of species.

Those with the force to thrive in lands so wild carry great arcane or limitless physical might in hundreds of ways different.

James, however, like many others, had another outlet letting him be the best of himself. Not by personal strength. Not by boundless intelligence. But by the fervor of his resolve. The queen who sleeps in his bed every night, a powerful creature who many of this savage land fear in their right.

By the resolve of his enduring evasion, he had earned the right to coil his arms around her tribal majesty, blended in physical peak and outlandish beauty. A feat many of the stronger had failed to attempt, and there were no short amount in her wake.

Today was yet another graced day where his hands tether on her belly, laced in a caramel pigmentation shaping her human side with gray marks, the latter shade, prone to overtake the end of her knees and legs. As well as her arms to the elbow.

Limbs radiated in diamond-hard scales, soft to the touch for her beloved king spooning her from behind. with retaliation of her elongated tail curled around his waist, populating a faint blush on her bronzed cheeks. A humble moment for Shila to be a woman to her husband.

A moment she would wish to relish more as she feels his arms moving, increasingly awake from the bountiful rays of the sun. Discarded from her side with James waking up in the early stage of the dawn. Her tense body feels the subtle movement sparking his nerves, allowing him to sit by the edge with a strong yawn.

A yawn promptly interrupted by his queen washing her ample chest on his back, a yawn of her own "My king. Come back to bed~ Her lips whisper close to his ears, shameless in her embrace. The voice breathing by forsakes the regal tone of the jungle queen, a surprising melody to one claimed by her kind.

"I'd love to, but..." James places a hand on her clawed arms crossed on his front "...you know I have to work today. The mine won't deplete itself in a place with so much need for iron and steel".

"Hnnn" The tireless queen groans in dismay, knowing full well how right he is. Broken weapons, sundered armors and overall carved metal in a land full of strife meant a continuous need for mineral resources. A surprising comfortable way of living for one not armed for battle but with the fortitude to pierce bedrocks. James' profession never was as valued as it is nowadays. Also unsurprising with the number of men taking to arms over tools.

"Very well, my king". Shila's hands move from his torso, looking to utterly discard from him...only for a flash of gray tides to materialize before him, the body of a honed predator blocking his way. He feels the talons of his lady planted once more on his body. On his pajama pants, however.

"Shila? Hold on! I'm--" Quickly the rending claws pull down on them, acting with care to avoid shredding them. The miner had thought that sleeping so close to a woman would acclimate his body to control its more 'unfortunate' functions. Unfortunately, as per the tradition of monsters shaped to breath-taking women, his body seemed more comfortable doing the opposite, ushering in the towering 'wood' stranded between his legs. One looking back at a smirking Tyranno already disrobed of her top to envelop it with her buxom bosom like a sandwich.

~Fufu, even with the excess of relief my hips provide, you remain so lively down here~ Her sharp gaze rises to meet an embarrassed James, further stretching her sultry smirk ~It is a great fortune you carry, my beloved king. Worthy of a queen. It will be a call to your full awakening~ With no time to await his hesitation, her hands cling to her breasts, moving them softly around his 'shaft', reeling moans out of him from his still sensitive spot of yesterday.

Minutes pass before Shila is done, satisfied with the results of her morning 'massage'. Her chest is polluted with the residue of his private, rising to her feet with the pride of making is spill so quickly.

She rises, but not without carrying her lips to his ears midway ~Consider this a preview for your return, my dearest king~ James' cheeks is a crimson red, barely able to contain his relieved aftermath and the thought of another night 'tending' to her. Her pace is regal despite the inherent savagery of the realm she calls home "Until then, I wait for you in the bathroom~

More minutes pass, this time, seeing the end of breakfast made about by a co-joined effort. James had his gear on him, ready for a day in the depths. Shila muses close, her voice broadcasting advice and warnings from the land "...and whatever you do, if an un-shaped raptor comes about, do not turn your back to it. But, at the same time, do not agitate it. Under the sight of prey or danger, it will shriek to call its brethren".

"Of course". James nods, taking his hands to her waist for a morning embrace, an act she moves to with a seal of lips at the middle. One lasting for a minute before even their arms depart form the other. And his shape, moving far through the path built for those inhabiting the surroundings.

A wave from his queen accompanying him throughout the marches, metal box in hand from her kitchen ad a gentle glance his departing way, to expect him back evening.

Sooner than that, however, a thought locked in her mind as Shila's woman-like demeanor shifts to the predatory mindset invested in her kind's blood. Her expression twists to a bestial focus. Her soft body hardens, further exacerbating the diamond resilience of her scale. Her stance hunches, adhering to armless combat, seeing her flee back to their domain for a change of attire.

A minute spans before the queen of her court flings herself from the door, to harshly close it, armored in amazonian harness tethering to her most vulnerable spots. Shoulders, kneecaps, elbows, throat. Any place not already bestowed by her natural armor is sheltered.

From there, she takes to the patrol as a silver blur around the domain claimed as her own. A claimed shared with the miner long gone to his post, greeting animals and occasional passengers of human and monster kind. With some even taking permanent individual settlements the vast expenses of her territory.

A haven for the herbivore and harmless kind, which they graciously repay her with bounties of all sorts. Tributes, food of the agricultural kind, monetary gains, though this part always confounds her, seeing how useless it really is to someone of her caliber. More often than not, it is spent in a better shuffling of her den, with James making more than enough for a comfortable life. Excess of this kind always draws complacency, the kind to be a fatal pollutant of the mind in a realm with little tolerance for flamboyant edicts.

Shila's scouring of the lands yields her passage to the inhabited places, now known by memory, looking for any spec of trouble in her land. The people within were just awakening, still struggling in the earliest hour of the morning.

She stops, taking a few seconds to inhale deeply, a mildly relaxed stance. A few seconds to contemplate her undisturbed lands, to feel the crown of queenship invested on her gray ponytail.

A few seconds denied as her entire body felt the faint brush of her territory. A brush of wind whispering in her ear, her skin. Someone just infiltrated the place. Shila's honed nose sniffs toward the sensation. Assuming it was someone she knew or a benign herbivore, she'd smell it. Instead, the odor is permeated in saliva and hunger. A bloodlust all-too-familiar to her senses. Predators. A dozen. A pack. And none of them have the tingle of the life-shaping demonic energy.

"Intruders!" Her fist collides on her palm, a staunch groan between her teeth. Leaping from the stone used for a moment of thought, she sprints, bearing the outrage of rabble thinking to sneak in for an easy kill.

And quickly, she finds them surrounding a couple of Parasaur beasts drenching their thirst. Days of failures had rendered their pack desperate for fresh meat, looking for anything to grind in their teeth and the bounty of timid fledglings.

Unfortunately for them, said desperation had blinded them to the fact that hunting down the creatures landed them in a spot surveyed by a larger and much more dangerous creature. A creature spending no time announcing her presence as she literally screams them out of the timid beasts' immediate vicinity, blowing their eardrums in the process.

A rather concerning argument to retreat and potentially heal, assuming they had any shred of self-preservation left in their reptilian mindset. Hunger had drunk it dry, pushing them forward with the tiniest of hopes to score themselves the flesh of a venerable Tyranno.

Said hope was unfortunately lashed far the same way her tail lashed out on one's jaws. Between her precise application of strength and the raptor's weakened muscles, its lower row of teeth stood no chance of recovering from the blow, let alone resisting it. It crumbles on the floor, dead on contact with no time to utter a death scream.

Of course, seeing how easily their comrade died gave no argument to the rest, instead, thinking of savoring more meat in its stead. They lunge at her, expecting an easy fall by numbers. Her arms recoil, readying herself as her foot crosses a line between them and her...and the Parasaur beasts. A direct challenge to cross it. --- The morning falls to noon. Noon falls to the evening, seeing some return home and some go out. James is one of the former, walking back home in an attire clobbered by dust and tiny rocks. A walk home preceded by the Tyranno, long expelled from her predatory gaze "Welcome back, my king~

Her embrace is immediate, uncaring of the supple dust accumulated on his cloth. If Shila was a queen, her mannerism was contrarian to queens of a more 'civilized' land. But, even with it polluting her honed body, a living weapon in itself, it could barely hope to put a strain on her raw beauty.

"Glad to be back, sweety". Jame returns the embrace, dropping his metallic lunch box, caught midway by the glint of her gray tail coiled around it.

"You'll be glad to know there is no intruder on our land. I've made sure of that" She speaks, lining the silver gaze on his common brown set of irises.

"I can feel it. You're all tense. And sweaty" James moves from her, walking to their room "Wait here, I'll be back".

"My king..." she whispers, taken to a seat on the nearest chair of the kitchen, watching his return through more comfortable clothing with a towel and a bundle of soap.

An expected outcome for Shila, noting him to tend greatly to her. One of many reasons she once traded blows with a hellhound. Words remain sealed, his hand taking in her sweat-choked claws still embedded with a tiny shrivel of blood at their edges "Come, let's get all of this washed up".

"As you wish~ She follows, her feminine side shining brightly in the domain of their den with none else than him to see. Care to be pampered now living on her expression as she disrobes, taking the opportunity of flaunting her amazonian body, again, sputtering the man in faint blushes with attempts to put that on hold as his hands delicately hose down her warrior body with an absolute focus to it.

Or, would have. Only... "My king, you need not only tend to me. Join me~ Her hands speed on his wrist, flashing his vision with the splash of water.

"Hey, hey, hey! No, no, it's fine, I can wash later--" The time spent formulating his desist sentence had wrought him without any cloth, dragged to the bottom of the tub.

Further, still, Shila now laid on him, giggling while flaunting the desirable chest often drawing his eye ~Much better--Ohh?!~

A faint surprise immediately comes to confound her expression, quick to blossom to a more sultry gaze towards him, her hips moving in a deliberate manner ~Ohh...I see your venerable work still makes you tense below, hmm?~

"I think it's really the woman laying on top of me---!!!" He speaks with still the reserves to contain himself. An effort made futile by her gentle palm coiling around the source of his accumulated 'tension', awaiting her lowering hips. Their faces light up in crimson dyes, though Shila bears it with the utmost pride.

~Really? I prefer to think my king is considerate enough to forsake his own...needs. A shame I adore relieving him, hmm? Before we clean up, I think it's only fair that we release this pent-up tension, hmm?~

"No, wait, I..." James' thoughts are flushed away by the warrior woman's enduring act of devotion. That...and having his 'tool' wrapped deep inside her. His evening schedule of tending to her, preparing and eating any supper, leisure and finally sleep went completely south as demonstrated by his hands giving in, clinging to her waist with the process of mating an absolute inevitability in the bathtub.

With his mind clear, only then did James sought to catch up to at the very least, making supper for the two of them. And, with the night encroaching, a hand taking his. A woman dressed in but a pajama top and black underwear, taking his alongside to bed, waiting to further fulfill her promise still whispering to his ear. A warmth, if almost sleepless night for James, once more seeing the tender side of his Tyranno queen.

All the opposite of the raptors who sought to intrude on her borders. Littering said borders, all deceased, the aftermath of her wrathful predatory demeanor. A single, yet fatal wound present on each of their bodies, rendered cold by the night with the high probability of another lucky, or, a desperate predator coming upon these kills...