User blog comment:The Reptile King/Reptile Kingdom What Do's/@comment-27950421-20180110233802/@comment-30014014-20180115184038

Only for a moment, did he consider fleeting...

And who could blame him? Almost getting forcefully taken from behind by a mutant variant of the mutt from hell and a creature from the permian event. His legs no longer rended into shock by the violent tossing he suffered for a moment. He could flee, get out of here. Get away from the horde of monsters who wanted to 'eat' him. Get away from the proclaimed leader who wanted nothing more than to humiliate him. Get away from the other beast who jumped out of the grass from the self-imposed hellscape...

If only it wasn't for that gaze. Seconds before this whole grassland turned into an arena, just before she started uttering her declaration in a deep marrowed tone. This one second where she gazed into him. Her voice, even permutated by the jagged form of her jaws and claws and height came as clear and mild as water flowing in a pond "Stay". Unable to explain how or why, he grabbed what remained of his pants and slide under the tree, feeling oddly but surely safe. Somehow, this mass of pure brute force had communicated an oath. He thought he owed it to her to at least...

What came next could only be described as a jagged-nado. Her massive jaws rending pride and bones asunder, leaving those in its maw too broken to continue their pretend claim, let alone stand up.

Her talons spreading cuts and burns to those unfortunate enough to think to resist her stomps. The pain inflicted, sending their nerves into a snap freeze of its own, their monster metabolisms denied its work.

And finally, her tail, wielded as a weighted blunt sentient object, sending scores of pretenders crashing into the innumerable trees, breaking their confidence, and the tree itself.

One by one, they start cursing the alpha who sent them into this three-way course of pain, battery and bruises, groaning as even the act of speech is cut from their current state. Some try to lift their heads up, failing miserably, blind to the main act: the alphahound, just recovering from the snatch and toss. No obvious signs of injuries, unlike her 'court'. Fury in her glare at the prospect of humiliation by some stranger who barely arrived to steal her quarry. The only one she's seen for weeks. Duality of fiery lines bleeding from her tangerine irises, tainted in the hellish flame from which she comes.

Nothing that could hope, however, to deter the Tyranno, going so far as to ignore the outraged cries of the alphahound "Is that it?! This is what you offer as your strenght?!" The tyranno points her jagged cranium toward the helldog, the latter busy priming her fist by battering them against one another "Because, if that's the case, then I garantee this man-whore will be mine in less than a minute!" she adds, taking yet another step toward the foreign beast.

The Tyranno's facial features sharpen in a certain way. Almost like a smile, yet with none of the intent. A grin? "Really? That high-pitch yelp you spat a minute ago would like to contest this claim you so boldly make". Her tone sounds both codescending and deriding. THe alphahound can literally smell the complacement out of her contestant and it sends her to a fit. With a leap, she charges toward the Tyranno, rabid as a feral canine.

The Tyranno does something unexpected. She turns upon herself in a 360 degree and to James' confusion, she seemed to shrink. Indeed, the external features of her jagged genesis are receiding, molting away like a withering flower. In place, a woman rises out of the remain of the conflux of power that spiral within her, forced back alongside her more beastial appendages. The woman is bound in an amazon attire, a pair of pants and naught but a combat bra, confident in her own sinew and bones. Her pigment, a testament of a creature who enjoyed the sun, her stare, stern and focused. The top of her cranium from her previous form is instead flowering her head in shades of grey, cut, refined and formed as a ponytail. Her limbs are reinforced in muscles, as well as her stomach, layer after layer of steel-shattering solidity.

And yet, almost as to compensate, perhaps a gift from the metamorphosis itself, the sinew she built were nothing like a male would be. Nowhere near as exaggerated, they conceal her terrifying prowess under the appeal of womanhood. The legs that carry her hide their might under the beauty of an aristocrate. The stomach armored with coats of steel abs are sheltered behind a voluptous chest. Even the scars she gained throughout the years could not hope hope to disminish that. James was in complete awe "She's so magnificient...to think this 'place' could host women like her..."

His trance-like gaze is snapped out of existence as she clamps one of her feet down. Her stance, readying in a defensive layer. By then, the alpha had jousted her open claw toward the reptile, only for the latter to sidestep by bare centimeters. The alpha falls in disarray, but quickly find foot behind the two, gyroscoping her entire body in a murderous return of the blood-starved claw. Once again, it was denied its prize, granted a fist inside its palm instead. The alpha hound grunts in frustration, her other hand joining the fray in a flurry of attacks. It had begun...

"So fast..." James utters as he watches the alphahound planting punctural claw swipes happen one after the other. Ear-deafening blows briefly echoed to life with the defensive denial of the Tyranno with little effort. The alpha, while seeking out any weakspot in the midst of her attacks, starts walking forward, in an effort to deroute the Tyranno. The latter's answer comes in a set of synchronized footing, equal to her attacker.

For James, still new to the concept of battle, this was an equal standing. As far as he knew, they were completely equal in this combat. The attacker couldn't right now, hope of breaching the defender and the latter found it hard to retaliate under the sonic strides.

Seeing as he was, however, he was unaware of the shift of battle happening right under his nose. A more experienced martial artist or warrior could easily see the cascade of blows via the alphahound done in a discorded manner. With each hit, she becomes more and more volatile, her strikes widening in the hope of breaching the gap. Focused on this for so long, she falls blind to the Tyranno's gaze following each of her fists, slowly turning from them, as she sees the space of attack. Deadcenter.

Like a pitch of a chord, a singular fist silences the cacophony. The Tyranno's gamble on her reading ability had fallen just. Her punch reached the left bone cheek of her enemy, the shock briefly paralysing her nerves enough to end her flurry. Her eyes, widen with a mix of outrage and confusion, clenching one of her fists in an attempt to retaliate. One who falls in failure, her face reeling at yet another punch. The Tyranno's gaze is absolute and focused. Her awaited opening is nigh and she isn't going to waste it.

<p style="font-weight:400;">James, ignorant of the subtle build up to this reversal of offenses, was blown away to see his defender strike not once, but twice at her attacker. And then, came the series of blows that assailed the alphahound like a ragdoll, utterly confused at this state of events. No hope to reverse this steam, she continues to suffer multiple injuries and stamina-corroding hits, all the way to a tree, where the punches had her reeling backward. An unending wall of pain, concluded with a bone-shattering kick in the torso, sending her crash into her second tree, this time with a more pronounced yelp forced out of her.

<p style="font-weight:400;">Her body now driven on instincts, she positions herself in a foetus position, too injured to try to get up, instead putting her legs on her stomach and hands on her legs. Her shake, without control, gazing with hate and a hint of defeat as her oppenent still approaches her. She kneels close to the downed alpha, no opening allowed in her form. Her stare turns to a complacent one, accompanied with the words to justify it "No discipline..."

<p style="font-weight:400;">"What?!" the alpha tries to retaliate, but ultimately unable.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"You have no discipline. It's a wonder the rest of your lackeys have followed you all this way, with such rash manners"

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Heh...hehehe..." she coughs "That's not what your defensive display tells me".

<p style="font-weight:400;">"A warrior never underplays defence, no matter the occurance. To be frank, I was expecting a challenge from you...one that this man who you've tried to soil have provided me".

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Tssk, don't make me laugh!" retorts the alpha, mustering a half grin, the pain enfeebling it "He wasn't as fiery as your delusional mind thought".

<p style="font-weight:400;">"There is more than one way to impose a challenge to someone. Thought I wouldn't import  in you to understand, considering you struck when he was weak. And it wasn't even you anyway".

<p style="font-weight:400;">The alpha's eyes widens by a degree "So...you followed this wimp all the way here just to have your way with him?...talk about--

<p style="font-weight:400;">Her face winces in pain as the Tyranno quickly grabs one of her arms, already recking of pain and twists the wrist by a small digit "Hnngg!"

<p style="font-weight:400;">"I will not have you spit at my king any longer! You hear me?! In fact..."

<p style="font-weight:400;">Her gaze turns to James, who had been watching all this time. He couldn't believe how easily the Tyranno had taken control of the fiesty alpha. But now, he was signaled by the Tyranno via a singular gesture of her hand. "Wait! Me? Come here?"

<p style="font-weight:400;">"It's all right, my king. She won't be doing anything" her voice is completely different to the harsh tone delivered to the alpha. This one was soothing and gentle. Her gaze had also changed, one offering shelter and hospitability. Once more, the act that prevented him from merely running away, prompted him to, slowly but surely, walk towards the two.

<p style="font-weight:400;">He would soon arrive in close vicinity, fearful of the alpha still conscious and eyeing him. Her gaze is cut close by another wrist twist "Don't you lay your gaze on him".

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Wow, you really did it" he speaks, a nod returned to him. With a few seconds passing, he could summerize that the alpha was at the complete mercy to the Tyranno. And his defender didn't even suffer a singular strike.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Well, I didn't want my king to be the prey of her and her pack. But, back to the point..."

<p style="font-weight:400;">James rises an eyebrow (Why does she keep calling me her king? Last I remember, I don't have a crown in m name). His thought bubble bursts as another twist is applied to the alpha, the Tyranno's harsher tone returned "I believe you owe him an apology".

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Hnng! An apology for what? Are you kidding me! Never in my life will I--Arrgh!"

<p style="font-weight:400;">Another twist is applied to the alpha, cut short of her brash answer "You hold no space for your broken pride.Apologize, or suffer evermore".

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Damn it! Damn it! Fine, I'm sorry! You happy?!" she spits in pain, gazing back into the Tyranno who felt no need to falter her stare. Though she does, only to turn to he who she chose as her king. Her voice is once again coated in honey "Is her apology acceptable for you, my king?"

<p style="font-weight:400;">James squirms a bit, flustered from the woman calling him her king. But, seeing an alpha hellhound apologize to him, especially hearing of their tales "Actually, you've done more than I could have hope".

<p style="font-weight:400;">The Tyranno's lips cut to a faint smile, her hand dropping the arm of the pained alpha. Her attention now utterly discard the alpha, who won't be moving for a while. Her stare is completly turned to James, approaching him with a more 'seductive' way "I'm glad my king is satisfied with me~

<p style="font-weight:400;">James scratches his head this time, a bit confused "Why do yo keep calling me your--". He is cut short by the Tyranno taking hold of him, giving him a piggyback ride "Later, my king. Right now, let us return home. You need a change of attire".

<p style="font-weight:400;">James at a bit of contest to make, but kept his peace. The woman who hunted him down for months and just defeated a mass of more volatile monsters, including their pack leader, had the firm intention of bringing him somewhere. If she wanted to eat him, she would have done so ages ago. If she wanted to claim him, she also would have done it ages ago. But right now, she claimed him as her king and gave nothing but the warmth of a devoted wife. Wife? Why was his thought going for the specific word 'wife'? Was it of her doing?

<p style="font-weight:400;">He'd find out soon as they were already here. A rather well maintained caved hosting more than a dozen house items. James was surprised to see that many of those bore the signature of that merchant he once worked for. At least until he unwillingly worked his way through the throat of a more feral beast "Whoa, where did you get those?"

<p style="font-weight:400;">The Tyranno comes back to him, a pair of pants ready for use from one of the wardrobe. Hearing of his question, she turns to one of the items "You should know, considering this fat man made you and others carry it".

<p style="font-weight:400;">"So you took them?"

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Well, I suppose so. None of the present creatures wanted any of it, estimating it all to be nothing more than trash. I have use for them" she continues, this time turning her face to James, who couldn't help but turn his gaze away. She walks to him, kneeling down to the man sitting on a chair in what could be called a living room. She smiles, her own cheeks flushing red "If my king is to live here, well I had to make sure he'd live comfortably~

<p style="font-weight:400;">"King? B-but I'm no royalty!" he utters, his eyes repeatably gazing from the corner on the chest of the Tyranno, always fleeting away for no more than seconds.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Of course you aren't. That is not for what I looked in a king" she speaks, creeping closer to James, the pair of pants she holds moving alongside "To be frank, I almost lost you on a few occasions. But I knew by looking at you that my life would be entertwined with yours..."

<p style="font-weight:400;">She drops the pants before suddenly straddling James, too shocked for any reactive response, feeling her ample chest squeezing upon his own "Do you know how long I've waited to get this near, my king? Each time you slipped through my fingers, it only served to further sharpen my adaption to your movement. Each time you hid under my nose, it only granted me a more acute sense of smell to your ador. Never in so long was I given a quarry that would elude me for so long..."

<p style="font-weight:400;">James becomes increasingly flustered at the excitement in her voice, almost like she caught a rare prey. Yet he also felt enthralled. Someone like her, claiming him as her best hunt. Someone who chose him over his rich merchant. Over the other mercenaries. A woman of such raw prowess, taking him, a humble man with expertise in mining and crafting, but nothing more.

<p style="font-weight:400;">Her voice only serves to tether his feelings with her own "How long have I waited for someone who would give me such a thrill, such a rush, frustrations over my small defeats. Anticipations over my nearing. You have proven yourself to be worthy of being my king. I wanted a king for so long, yet all I've had were pretentious pretenders. Now that you're here..."

<p style="font-weight:400;">She stops, looking deep in his eyes with her grey slits, awaiting some sort of answer. Despite meeting for but a few fleeting times, in the course of months as prey and predator, James had fallen for her. Fallen for her amazoness body. Fallen for her rash but refined way of spaking. This she could see, but he couldn't will himself to admit it. No, instead, he turned away, tyring to find a was to put this into words.

<p style="font-weight:400;">She wouldn't give him the time, stepping down from his hips, all the way to his feet, in a way that her face would be face-to-face with his tattered pants. A sultry look fills her eyes ~Then again, a king needs his queen, after all~. He could feel her breath occupying the space between his legs. Looking down, he sees her fixated on his shredded pants. With one swoop, the remains are completely discarded, exposing whatever lied down. She laughs with her sultry tone, bringing her ample chest on the chair, next to his 'package'.

<p style="font-weight:400;">"Wait, wait, wait! What are you doing?! This isnt--

<p style="font-weight:400;">~Now, now, my king...~ she cuts short, looking up at him with the same stare as her tone ~As your queen, I can sense there is a bit of discomfort within you. I can't leave you ike this, now can I...~

<p style="font-weight:400;">"But you're the one doing this!" he tries to protest, only to find out he was bluntly honest in this sentence "No, no, no, I didn't mean it like that--

<p style="font-weight:400;">~But your body did, my king~ she retorts, lowering her gaze straight ahead, breathing with anticipation as one of her hand reaches for the metallic braces holding her iron bra together. Her breasts come loose in full view with one movement, making poor James even more flustered, a peak rising...somewhere. The Tyranno then makes sure to grab his attention via envelopping her ample chest around his 'package', uttering the last words her discipline could afford to convey ~Now, my king, as your queen, I will give you a sample of what is to come next. This will be our life now...~