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The forlorn realm of the south appeared like a respite contrasted to the aversions that prowled this foliage. The towering trees, vibrant lichens, assorted flowers, and lush ferns all toiled as camouflage. The disheveled beauty is merely a facade to facilitate the bane that is complacency. And while the shade from those branches may render relief, it did little to abate the ravenous nature of the jungle. Its primordial heart drummed to an ancient cadence, following a callous system to wheat out the fit from the lethargic. The scattered strains of winged beast juxtaposed with the fallacy of security. While the swamp's murky waters and the buzzing of insects that called this necrotic domain home regaled a differing anecdote.

 Across the breadth of this virulent quagmire were strewn carcasses of a preceding epoch. They were formerly imposing ruins in their own right, each now sinking into the bog as nature set out to reclaim those once majestic edifices. Their dilapidated remains persisted as a stark reminder that while nations may envision the world under their jurisdiction, the truth was quite the opposite. Without civilization, the planet and life would proceed to march forward, almost undeterred by their swift vanishment. An uncanny fog enveloped the surface of those somber pools, all the while, enormous fireflies perforated through the film of obscurity. At the same time, a breeze whisked across the terrain, ushering with it the redolence of mildew and earth.


The low-hanging branches were vitrified in saturated moss, trickling their squalid solutions on top of any wanderers. This organic material failed to mask the dangling corpses of the Toadlins victims, a warning that this was their abode from this point forward. There, nestled on the outskirts of the bog, curtained by weeping willows, a cave resided. Those emerald eyes, peering within the gaped maw of that earthen structure. This Diva, far from the sanitation of the Boneyard, thrust deep into this sea of mud under her mother's orders. The golden-maned giant was contemplating if conceivably this was retribution for bringing home that impotent Tiefling. The race for the throne yielded little in the way of time, kindling a fire under her divine rear.

"Great, muck."

Florentina muttered while glimpsing down at the begrime caking itself on her toed boots of ossein. Oh, how she abhorred such slime, her blemishless canvas far too civilized to be defaced by such crud. The life of a member of the Red Sap seldom reflected the vivid illustrations portrayed in song. The myths of old, failing to depict how strife scarcely transpires within a desirable pasturage. Still, if nothing else, at least that dampened gullet of rock would present some succor from that revolting odor emanating within the air. Muteness embraced as discreetly the lone agent traveled across the water. Her legs, scaring off smaller fish as ripples moved across the surface.

She crawled on all fours like a feline; the interrogator entered that threshold, moving deeper into the bowels of this darkened, tight passageway. Around her neck drooped a necklace of gold, while the Diva continued to chew on the rubbery bark from an indigenous tree, the friction scoured those pearly fangs clean of any plaque. That embellishing neckpiece, clapping between the valley of her birthmarked bosom. Meanwhile, those jaded lanterns climatized to the tenebrosity of the earth. Ducking and grumbling, while a cloud of bats rushed past her, bumping into the maiden before fluttering free from this prison's hold.

"Bitch..."

Such profanity, while often avoided, seemed fitting given her less than an aspiring situation. Ultimately, Florentina reached the end of the tunnel, only to fall within another pool. The flimsy patch of soil gave way due to her moderate weight. A splash echoed as the annoyed giant emerged from its depth—strands of gold hair attached to her face while she used her hands to relocate them behind the ears. That shell, removed from the back, scooping up some of the untainted water. Bioluminescent fungus illuminated the entire antechamber with quite the dazzling array of vibrant-hued lights.

Feeling safe, the inquisitor started to remove her blackened bone mold, placing the segments onto a flat surface before overlaying it with the knitted sweater of spider webbings. Her voluptuous form, that of a goddess, unlawfully deprived of that statue her former failure of a mate appeared incapable of constructing. Why was it so laborious to discover competency? As if encapsulating perfection should be arduous for any sincere artisan?

That shell, hoisted overhead, emptying down the fluids contained within. The clear waters, running down that curvaceous disrobed figure, removing the unsuited filth. Salaciously, this Diva moved those hands across the body, taking a brief moment to approve of her cleansed and bountiful form: this lamentable experience, just another step toward her imminent transcendence. Florentina simpered, daydreaming of herself lording over her lesser siblings, as the totality of the jungle licked at her heels less they inspire her ire, for nothing was quite as titillating as the unadulterated expression of unbridled dominance. Thankfully, modesty was her most admirable quality...For what is a princess, if not extraordinarily humble?

Florentina, while envisioning herself as infallible, was caught off guard within that soon-to-be breeding chamber. For within those crystalline waters prowled a predator unlike any she had priorly beheld. An otherworldly interloper rose from those depths, her grayish skin moist as silvery mirrors fixated themselves on what the creature perceived as an incubator. Nysoesa was her name, a leech humanoid who, without her children, felt wholly vulnerable. Those bloodsucking feelers lashed out at the disrobed princess, the two battling one another in some primal ritual of courtship. Her beauty, bestial physiognomy, and ferocity fascinated the agent. And, while she put up a good struggle, in the end, the inquisitor prevailed, albeit with a few injuries.

Those judgmental eyes surveyed the extraterrestrial, studying Nysoesa intently instead of delivering the killing blow. The parasite took advantage of those brief moments of obtuse mindedness, subduing the giant as the two shifted from a waltz of death to a shuffle of lascivious joining. This horror, whatever it was, was ravishing and a peculiar specimen. And while Florentina may be oblivious of Nysioesa's origin, she knew one thing to be true. She desired to declare possession of this beast. Once more, employing her voluptuary form, the inquisitor strove to enchant the egger. For once, this venture failed, leaving the blonde pinned and mounted as the leech chuckled from amusement. A covenant was stuck, if the giant could house the entirety of her clutch, she'd accept her as a brood bitch, and the two would be eternally joined.

Mockingly, Florentina accepted, only to know true sexual rapture and release, the likes of which she had never imagined possible. Her body stuffed, housing their young, as the other predator marked the princess as her property and lover. The two entered into a combative yet enriching union, breeding without pause for the next two years. The pair were conversing between the interims as the agent saw this monster as the ideal partner, the only soul deserving of sharing that crown. But for all of Nysoesa's benefits. The alien had much to learn of the jungle, its people, and the prize she so effectively had entangled. Whenever the bloodsucker slept, Florentina would run that hand across her impregnated belly, gazing into the water ever tarnished by the pollution of their marriage. 

Wordlessly, she deliberated if this was love? For, never in her life had the agent been so infatuated by another. And, more importantly, if this was something other than a mutual contract with sex, could she be a dutiful wife and mother?

"The Diva and the Leech."

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They often say love is rapture, sentimentalism that previously Florentina haughtily scoffed at. In her youth, she viewed such romanticized conceptions to be the domain of the unfit and lethargic. Nonetheless, coming face to face with such emotions, the austere giant found her resolve prone to waning—their time within that cave and wandering through the muck of the swamp. In comparison, chatting with one another induced with it a sedentary discernment of completeness. Something she had panged for, a thirst never before slaked, albeit something the agent was oblivious she coveted. Nysoesa, for all her faults, had verified herself as an equivalent hunter within a domain of pseudo alphas.  With each release of hatchlings, the inquisitor found herself becoming ever more tangled by those blood-sucking feelers.

Their days were simple. The duo rummaged and hunted within that bog during the morning. Only to hone their combative skills during high noon, followed by evening introspections, lovemaking, and deep bonding. Nyosesa nurtured herself on her wife's blood that iron-enriched ichor was bearing the taint of old. The parasite, unknowingly, was ever so gradually becoming altered by its Eldritch contents. Sequentially, this brought about an evolution. The extraterrestrial entity had ingested her inborn talent to influence blood and flesh. This, in turn, only extolled Florentina's admiration for the monstrosity to an all-new zenith. 

Obfuscation stoked by skepticism had been wholly dispersed. The fog of conjecture no longer looming over those somber pools of the mire. This zephyr of change, whisking it all away and installing lucidity in its place. Those emerald lanterns beheld with the utmost clarity that Nysoesa was her soul mate, the one woman who could rightly share within the bounty of her claim to the throne. This revelation provoked as much optimism as it did trepidation. This juxtaposition bottled within, for Florentina was far too prideful and senseless to communicate such visceral anxieties out loud. Rather than becoming consumed by the torrent of emotions. The agent appropriated their ardor to propagate the pair's gospel to new precipices.

The inquisitor whetted her instincts, advancing her strength exceeding preceding limits, kindled by the embers of an ancient calling. Nysoesa was her companion, the matriarch of their offspring, and the onus of responsibility fell solely on this giant's shoulders. She had to protect them at any cost. And how could she genuinely confer security within such a humble dwelling? No, they lived like animals, hiding the brilliance of their concupiscence and grandeur from the world. This belatedly steered her consideration back to that artifact and her mission. The way forward was clear. 

If she were to be a worthy spouse, Florentina needed to remain faithful to her vows. And so, one morning, while that invasive woman slept on a rock, she'd deem the timing right. The inquisitor booted her slumbering wife off the stone and into those contaminated waters, smirking while commanding her to get ready for their next move. She abided outside, under the shade of the willow trees. Those keen orbs were surveying the marsh, reminiscing of her arrival, ignorant that within such a forlorn expanse, a treasure eclipsing all else awaited her. A closing thought was repeating within her cranium. That love, for all its ostensible feebleness, was indeed rapture. And what is a relationship, if not symbiotic?

"Symbotic."

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Their emergence to the outside world might have established itself as inconsequential. Yet, the trifling viewpoints of others held no significance over reality. Whether they endorsed the concealed connotations or not wouldn't thwart the impending maelstrom to ensue in their wake. The turzien people, while diminutive when it came to intellect, were extraordinary warriors. Their strength challenged that of the giants, but it wasn't their brawn that had attracted the attentive gazes of their betters. Florentina's mother might have seen them as the final holdout, bodies to add to their forces to ensure a stable future. But, this inquisitor saw so much more. Their turtle mounts, tottering creatures of burden, would contribute much more to the Dynasty than their armaments ever could. 

The competition for the throne wasn't sympathetic toward those lacking creativity. Despite being a monk, this agent of the Red Sap understood an advantageous asset when she beheld one. And, left alone, they'd suppurate within the ponds of mediocrity. However, under her wisdom and brain, these louts might yet reach heights thought as impossible. It was this aspiration that had lured Florentina into the marshlands. Nysoesa's courtship didn't deter her inevitable metamorphosis; it was merely delayed. With the primordial heart tucked securely within her shelled armor and that unappeasable parasite roosting on her rump, the two strutted across the region of decay. 

The air was thick with that putrid odor, the identical redolence that had priorly turned the giant's stomach had become, in time, vastly more sufferable. The two lovers conversed, while tardy, the exhibition of her ambitions was espoused to her wife. And rather than recoil from revulsion or despair, Nyso instead appeared to swell with anticipation. Their meandering through the wetlands was packed with banter, flirtations, and heartfelt gesticulations. Yet all such revelry would desist the second they floundered across that stone bridge that slowly was being reclaimed by nature. For, on this deteriorating path, they witnessed two turziens safeguarding their only way into their lands. While she could have conceivably snuck past them or strived for statesmanship, the inquisitor instead elected to play by their folkways.

The two towering reptilians took notice, holding their logs as they diminished the space between them. One was overly antagonistic, while the other, Xib, seemed far more amendable. Subterfuge, a timeless tool, would be brandished, wielding by her refined tongue in an endeavor to swindle the two—this encouraged inquisitiveness within Xib. Yet, bewilderment ensued by wrath within the other. 

Such arrogance, then again, Florentina long since concluded that humility was a rare attribute to possess. And few within this world included the degree of meekness residing within her unsullied heart. The two turtles' lines of inquisitions, for now, were tolerated. Even Sokitl's initial disdain had been endured, although her tolerance wouldn't present itself as without limitations. Xib, on the other hand, appeared more accommodating and inclined to accept the looming subjugation. Wordlessly, the agent abode within the tenebrosity of his brother's bitterness. That overt contest for dominance, while ostensibly commendable, substantiated itself as equivocally senseless. The only thing dallying his swift termination was the mind's propensity to meander in thought. 

Florentina recalled Nyso's touch, those candied utterances that invigorated the heart to tremble. Gradually, the inquisitor's form enlarged as the giantess broke her word to refrain from reaching her standard height of ten feet. Her wife would have to disregard this misconduct, given the inescapable misuse of energy and time that will ensue. That bosom puffed with self-confidence while emerald eyes engaged the waddling behemoth of a reptile. Those well-honed muscles, fashioned from innumerable exposures from that timeless Darwinian fray, prepared themselves. This reprehensible pest suffered from delusion, conferred by a puffed-up discernment of egocentricity not yet merited. Out of all the lapses in judgments presented, his contiguity and spitting took the cake as the most egregious. Such a flagrant act of insolence couldn't be acquitted. Henceforth, only execution prevailed as a befitting recourse for such infractions. 

Nysoesa's support, while titillating, wouldn't externally evoke an acknowledgment. The body, employing its muscle memory just as the stringy glob of phlegm had adhered itself to what was otherwise an irreproachable visage. That right hand, balled into a fist, launched itself forward toward Sokitl face. Powerless to evade, the shelled oaf eluded the incoming calamity by retreating that melon within his rounded natural plating. Florentina, squandering little time, grasped the upper brim of that opening with her right hand, the left following its lead, securing the opposite rim. That right leg, sending two mighty kicks, one after the other, toward those stubby feet. The bones could not withstand the intensity of her blows, snapping the ligaments so that their jagged and fractured segments perforated through that scaled skin. 

The muscles across her body flexed as the giantess utilized each fiber to pull the two sections apart. Florentina's grinned as the distinct sound of their untethering greeted her ears; that macabre assortment of gore saturated dins akin to music to the ears. This litany of her might was a symphony, of which she was the sole maestro. That shell divided, attached by still snapping strands of flesh while the organs housed within scattered onto the begrimed floor of that bridge. A sea of blood varnishing its earthen surface, the final wailings of this turtle juxtaposing marvelously with the crackling of his vessel. The natural armor now fully parted like a clam, only to have its undeserving carcass thrown into the murky pool of the bayou. His hemoglobin was staining her body, while instinctively, their offspring sensed their mother's bitterness before raveningly surfeiting themselves on the carcass she proffered as a meal.

That twisting swarm slithered about, fastening onto any flesh as their elongated figures inflated from the volume of serum they so hungrily ingested. Standing valiantly, that right hand reached back, spanking her buttocks while glowering at the sole relict of the turzien's.  Nysoesa assumed her rightful place on that rearward nest. This demonstration of martial talent had amused Xib enough that he agreed to be their guide, and with that, the three were off.  With this reptilian as their guide, they'd snake through the towering labyrinth of trees, enduring his crooning until, ultimately, the faithful brute brought them toward the outskirts of his people's territory.

A horn blared as from the mud itself, a dozen soldiers rose—each wielding primitive weapons of wood and bearing armor comprised of similar material. Their eyes were locking onto the newcomers while their commander stomped forward, glaring at Xib. "Why you return? We ban you to post, to atone? You no come back till you find whisper of swamp?" 

Xib picked his nose, flicking it at the ground before pointing back toward his two guests. "Xib did. Half giant, half turtle claims crusade. She speaks of things few know, says she can wake guardian. If heretic, you handle Xib cleared. If truthsayer, absolved, rejoin tribe, we become stronger. Escort to rock, we see if she be messenger." 

The soldiers stared at one another, confused, shrugging their shoulders before surrounding their guests in a nonaggressive manner. "We see Xib, if you right this be good time. If you wrong, we squish giant interloper. Jorgenskull, we lead to site. Ruins of trepidation. Who be other one?" 

Xib shrugged his shoulder and smiled. "Mother of Leech's, giant fertilized eggs. Me know, this one confused. She be more like us than Xib thunk. We go now?" 

The commander nodded, blaring his horn thrice across the distance, as a series of answers responded all across the swamplands. "We go..." 

The officer replied, looking at the two with skepticism. "You tell truth, have nothing to fear. Come, let us lead you to slumbering god." And they were off, many more sentries emerging from the muck wearing moss and the mud as camouflage as they eyed these foreigners cautiously. 

"Xib brought you, true to word. See, they like Xib?" He concluded with pride. Florentina was beyond upset, yet for now, she would suffer this injustice. Ultimately, all that mattered was her reaching their slumbering guardian to commence that transcendence. The wound to her pride was a small price to pay to rise from being the runt to the head of the pack.

"Contact."

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His rambling, while painful in its own right, was preferable to that song.  The monk glanced back at her lover, finding Nysoesa's muteness to be concerning. Had Florentina somehow agitated her mate? The mind struggled to determine why, but it wasn't as if heartfelt bonding was this agent's forte. For now, the giant was forced to deliberate in silence, left with nothing but Xib's pestering inquisitions to keep her fellowship. She fancied stoicism, sustaining a neutral expression lest others managed to explore her shriveled soul. And as much as it pained her to concede. This reptilian that labored as their guide was deserving of some answers. 

"My body is the soil."

A simple rejoinder, employing his banal perception of the world to interact with the lout effectively. Xib was a slow one, adorable in a moronic fashion but retarded all the same. It was then that the sound of the mud stirring inspired her eyes to dart athwart the scene. The blaring of horns heralding an ill omen as the group found themselves utterly beleaguered. Had this nincompoop been pulling their strings? Was Xib far more wily than she had initially given him credit? Damn this turtle! If this were all some game, she'd be sure he perished last and that his lamentations would be legendary.

All such wrath would recede once the turzien's commenced their little verbal exchange. How auspicious for the couple to have stumbled upon an exile. Hopefully, this ostracization wouldn't hamper Florentina's designs. Though, given the other's body language, this likelihood appeared increasingly improbable. The giant stood there, having a resting bitch face cemented on her visage. Those emerald lanterns shifting to the right and left before rolling about from sheer "enthusaism." She appreciated bondage as much as anyone, though she often was the one in control. Finding herself inundated and on the receiving end was equally as incensing as it was droll.

"For now, I will comply. Make no mistake. I am hardly overjoyed with this turn of events. And, once I vindicate myself, I anticipate an ample apology." 

Whether they were affectionate of her attitude or not mattered little, Florentina was far too prideful of a warrior to capitulate to what she viewed as the vapid vagaries of riffraff. This rabbles caprices, while inescapable, didn't intrinsically imply its permanence needed to be reveled. If they expected the monk to frolic about from delight, they'd be sorely disappointed. She'd soon rather be balked than suppurate within such a homely outcome. Wordlessly, she followed their lead, duping herself that these soldiers were not here to keep an eye on them but instead were escorts. Intrepid souls who would renounce their mortal coil if it meant guaranteeing the future of their matriarch. A deadpan glower lingering on Xib while her bosom expanded and contracted from disgruntled respiration.

"Oh yes, just when you believed yourself as the center of attention, I showed up. Xib, while I applaud your enthusiasm to help, you might want to make such minor details known next time."

Those green eyes were veering off, studying their fashionable company as a few stared at her with spiteful and dubious scowls. 

"I am Florentina Jorgenskull. That name carries weight. I advise you to behave. I may be willing to disregard this infraction. However, my benevolence is anything but boundless. Do try to keep that in mind, will you? I would hate to awaken your guardian and inform him how discourteous you are all being." She concluded with a sneer.

Xib was confused. What did this giant mean by her body was the soil? It came across as blasphemy. To a turzien all life is of the earth and sea. The idea she could be the land made flesh was either insanity or holiness.  He looked at her. Those eyes were blinking one after the other while that stubby finger scratched the top of his head. "You be soil? Xib's voice was watery and accompanied by a faint rumble.  He wouldn't have much time to think further on this, given their current company. His brethren heard her comment but decided to disregard it. They figured she was just arrogant, a typical giant, made all the more likely given her bitter words.

Their steps stopped. Each of the soldiers glimpsed at one another as she shared her name. Indeed, it did carry weight. While Xib's people were not a part of their dynasty, they didn't exactly live in a bubble. Was this blonde the princess? The head of the red sap? If so, then they would indeed tread lightly around Florentina. While the turzien were a brave people who put alot of stock in their fighting ability, they weren't senseless. The men were looking toward their commander for guidance, who at first shot Xib a cold glare.

"You brought her here? Why you no say who she be earlier?" The officer's question caused Xib to shrug his shoulder. Stepping forward, the group recommenced their steps, waddling deeper into the jungle.

 

"You no ask this one. Did Xib not get in trouble for questioning? You said Xib no obey, Xib bad turzien. Xib learn, only reveal when asked like good turzien" The commander grumbling, not appreciating having his words of admonishment from earlier thrown back at his face. Their city of mud homes and stone were creeping into view as wearily the people looked onward at the approaching party. 

The tribes were not fond of outsiders. Those that did wander into their territory did so maliciously. "Forgive them. They no know who you be. Florentina, you claim to be messenger of big shell? Mortetor? Big claim, many said so before, all dead. Do not worry. We test soon enough." The commander added, clicking his snapper together. Xib, let out a grunt, looking about at all the egg layers whose attention were focused his way. Perfect he could use this opportunity to start a family. If she brute were telling the truth, he would be a hero, absolved of past failures. If she were lying, the inquisitor would go splat, still a hero, a win-win. He found these terms acceptable.

"She claim to be of soil, big shell will reveal if lady of rear shell be truthsayer. But, Xib believe." He lied, leaning on the side of caution just in case things did go the way Florentina imagined. Their escorts led them deeper into the expansive settlement, finally reaching what appeared to be a domed mountain. The moss grew thick on the exterior, making it slick to the touch. The tribes' wise women and chieftains were all gathered, undoubtedly carrying out one of those meeting things.

 

"Why you disturb?" One of the warlords barked, the commander bowing, moving his arms to Xib, giving him the floor.

Nervously he looked about, startled, before jumping once in place while extending and swaying his head so that the neck flaps slapped. "Xib bring giant turtle. Rear shell, Florentina Jorgenskull. She claims to be of soil. She said big shell called her. Xib knows, this one trusts. Turtle hybrid will prove, will wake sleeping one. Fulfill Mortetor prophecy."

 

The leaders whispered amongst themselves, a few laughing, while others remained unmoved. "This be a giant trick or joke? How can one be both softback and hardback? Make no sense! We humor, we watch and see. Go ahead, princess, show us that you are called by swamp and sea!"

 

The guards were stepping away, giving her ample room to do whatever Flroentina needed. Xib, looked back with a goofy smile on his face. That head was nodding fast while the tongue dangled from his snapper so that it struck up and down his face.

"Xib know you got this. Xib trust nice rear shell!" Belching before scratching his rear. Those nostrils opened before pushing out a huff of air, taking one last look at all those watching this entire affair.  "If he wrong, me go back to bridge. You go splat. Xib loses two friends, plus maybe wiggly friends. No good, this one must believe

The otherworldly entity hummed as her radiant perch admitted her fealty to that less than pure elixir. The blood worm shifted, chewing pensively on that bottom lip as she entertained that question and subsequent words silently. The truth that Florentina still held only speculations towards the identity of her protein-enriched meal was perversely enjoyed by the invader. What sort of reactions could be garnered from this atomic blonde, if those words did leave her lips? It was a funny thought, one that Nyso toyed with undecidedly, not sure she wanted to give up such a delicious truth, and give up the mystery. 

Noticing that mischievous guiding hand, the monstrosity’s focus was drawn entirely from the jabbering turtle and subsequent world around them. As those feelers discovered her wife’s lecherous present, silvery eyes ballooned. Special hatches! Scarlet flooded the parasite’s ashen cheeks, and she floundered, consciously trying to maintain her hold upon that slippery will. Bunting that glossy head into the woman’s side to hide her face, that large rear appendage slowly wrapped itself below her Brood Bitch’s naval, tightening slowly. With only a few words- that perfect challenge easily stoked the fires in Nyso’s core.

Then the Truizens emerged from the muck. Their sudden injection into this charged moment, especially with the press of those unfertilized eggs weighing those limbs ever closer.. sent a strange wave of discomfort over the parasite. Suddenly with a larger audience and more scrutinizing eyes.. it was as if the stage had been set, the spotlight was affixed above and Florentina basked in it’s center. While effortlessly her wife projected both great confidence and restraint, Nysoesa felt she was severely lacking.

The blood-sucker’s more lecherous desires clashed harshly with this new feeling of exposure. On one hand the Hirudinea knew that she didn’t really give a fuck, but on the other the thought of their incessant questions and most importantly the mission at hand hung heavy over the dame’s head. Either way, regardless if they made faces at the strange creature latched onto the Giant’s back, it was clear so far that they hardly paid much mind towards her presence in these proceedings. A question resurfaced in the predator’s mind as they were escorted deeper into unfamiliar territory, just what was her role in this moment?  There wasn’t much she could contribute other than the minor sea of leechlings which toiled quietly in their wake. Was she even contributing enough support, or was she just another distraction for Flora to deal with? Even still, those offered hatches seemed to tickle the back of the fem’s mind. Would Florentina want Nyso to play with her even now? The invasive species squirmed indecisively, conflicted in her thoughts.

Realizing she hadn’t said anything this whole time the Leech shifted, gazing with weighted eyes towards her beautiful seat  

 

“I want you, My Brood Bitch.. but I know this business should come first.” Even as she said it, her vocals purred with yearning, that large rear tendril coiling in close, it’s boneless body pressed at the entrance of that rear hatch for a few moments before moving on, gliding along her lover’s armored hips and modelesque figure. A way of demonstrating her support until words from the Truizen’s were bounced around. Their skepticisms and scrutiny in regards to Florentina’s claims sure to be quelled soon enough.  

The devourer snorted, “You will all see. My Wife’s radiance knows no bounds, and your Mortetor will know this too.” proudly she glared at the warriors around them. The tentacle-haired dame was also surprised when Xib spoke up, not expecting to hear him project such a position to their side, but perhaps having witnessed Florentina’s strength, he had enough brains not to side fully with his unsuspecting kin.

Patience was key for the time being, she just needed to keep focus on the goal ahead of them, and once her blonde goddess proved to these hard-loafs she was their master, then the parasite would reward them both with a new clutch.

Indeed, these louts were rightly apprehensive around this diva. The notoriety she warranted wasn't one of empathy. The shattering of wills was a dirty job, one that was morally dubious. Their love was of zero pertinence; it was their fear that empowered this inquisitor. Those emerald eyes watched with the utmost pleasure as they writhed within her shadow. That beautiful mind stoked countless images of their people bowing the knee, the soon-to-be raising of her banners, and the transition her union will evoke on the realm. It was all coming along perfectly, almost too perfect. 

The red sap had been under her authority; mobilizing these savages with the toadlins only advanced her transcendence. That womb had born many children, enchanting parasites that flawlessly mirrored her yearning for blood. Prophecies were the inventions of dingbats, nincompoops endeavoring to add worth to what was by all accounts a meaningless existence. And while it was confirmed she didn't believe in the concept of predetermination, this, however, didn't infer she wouldn't persuade their theological structures to propel her objectives. While the awful lot rambled, as idiots do, Florentina found herself demanding her spouse's affection. This need, thankfully, would be met, albeit not how she imagined it.

The diva never resisted her wife's want to venerate the body, refusing to fight against those feelers and instead welcomed them, even as they gallivanted through the principality. Florentina rustled, that divided tongue slipping out as the two halves wiggled and overlapped over one another in a twisting motion as a ploy to agitate Nysoesa. This brief flirtatious exchange had been suspended as the bumbling bark lickers adequately addressed her instead of bickering amongst themselves like children. 

"Your people are my people, a truth while laborious to swallow, will become easier in due time."

While they deliberated amongst themselves, Florentina seized this opening to finally address her wife, even spreading those legs as if goading Nysoesa's depraved inclinations. This challenge concealed from the uninitiated concerning their habits...it looked as if she were merely stretching.

"When this is done, I will have you use me as we look from on high at our empire. No limits, I want to experience the true depths of your depravity." 

Winking, only to turn to face the group as belatedly, the center of attention reverted to where it belonged, solely on the diva. Her wife's support was touching, even if she failed to recognize that it was the giant who lied to commandeer their myth and that empty title: Morertor, a word as unavailing as a barren womb. But, they needn't worry, though her actions such a hollow title will bloom meaning. 

"Claim? Does this imply there is doubt? Good, I will relish proving what I know to be true. Your swamp, this land, it belongs to me. Scoff all you want, decry me if you desire. Conclusively, it will only make your hysteria and humiliation all the more appealing."

The humble princess moved toward the dome, her gloved hand running across the moist surface and moss. Nysoesa needn't say anything; she could sense her wife was beside herself, given the unusual silence.

"You feel incompetent now? Good, because you are. This is my gift to you. You have given me love, a family. And just like your first...orgasms, I advise reclining and letting your brood bitch do her thing. Nysoesa, unroost for now. When this is done, you will be on top, I promise."

Once the leech had dismounted and entirely let go of the inquisitor, the agent would extract the primordial heart from between her breast. That crystal throbbed like flesh, emitting a glow that defied earthly explanations—those green lanterns looking into her lover's silvery orbs, winking and blowing a kiss.

"No matter what, do not touch me. If you love me, you will trust your diva. Any interference will tarnish what I must do. The price required for your happiness is to be paid in full this day..."

With the crystal in one hand and the free palm residing on the shell, she sighed, shattering it. Energy, the likes of which Florentina could have never fathomed, coursed through her body before running across the mountain. Pain, cries of utter torment echoing, the body rupturing and mending as the tortoise-like armor kept shifting. Her mother survived this evolution; she would as well. The teeth kept grinding, scraping harshly, splitting and reforming while gradually the skeletal shielding covered her body until eventually, she no longer resembled a beauty but a beast. Her form reached its max height, overtowering the others, while the turtle beast growled. 

The dome shook, as from the earth, a large head poked out, looking at the monstrosity as it yawned. The slumbering protector, the titan of old, had been awoken. The heart's energy tethering the two, outwardly it looked symbiotic, but in truth, Florentina was a parasite. This behemoth was her thrall, one she'd gorge on until it eventually perished. Calmly, she turned to face the people and her wife, the beast unfaltering in the confidence it exhumed. 

"I am mortetor, and this land and its people are mine by right. Swear fealty, as I am the messenger of the swamp, the guardian reborn." 

That beastly visage faded, Florentina shrunk as she stood naked before the council, covered in sweat, breathing sharply as blood trailed from the nostrils, compelled to wait to see how they'd react. (edited)
 

 

The turziens discussed amongst themselves as the giant replied. Was she here to subjugate them? How? What army did this arrogant she-beast bring? The lords considered smashing her right there yet refrained from doing so for the moment. They wanted to see the fusion between their species try and validate her heretical claims.  Xib sighed. He could sense the tension in the air. Florentina had angered them. Her words were a bit harsh. "She be part giant, be that side. Xib promise she friend!" 

His efforts to lower the stress had failed, but it did buy this agent of the sap enough time to do her thing. The reptilian turned, looking over at the leech as she dismounted from her royal caboose. So, it could stand? Then why did it appear comfortable to ride the blonde like she were one of those beasts of burdens? That display of arrogance knew no end, driving the warlords and wise women to snap at one another in a show of dominance.  Xib did what he did best, stand there, look pretty while standing uncomfortably close to the wiggly egg layer. She was sad. He had to comfort her. 

"This one believes she will do well. If not, we run. Xib thinks he might be in trouble. They no seem happy, bang jaws is not good sign. Turzien will protect, learn how she be soil. Xib seen wiggly ones, pickled babies, they be proof she be swamp. At least enough for this fine turtle."  The handsome turzien smiled oafishly. He was nodding slowly as his brain took a second to figure out her brilliance riddle.

 

"Hair like sun? Xib get it now! She be mortetor, sacrilege to most, but this one no care. Xib made lie, and now xib must bed in it." It was then, as she approached, the room hushed.  The moment of truth had finally dawned, and soon all would know if this was a lie or if Florentina spoke the truth.

Xib would reach and try to bring the little grey one in for a bear hug. She might bite and hurt him, but this warrior knew how lovers had a way of jumping into danger when the other was distressed. "Squishy one, forgive. Xib do this for both. No kill please? Not till xib woo egglayers who watch."Honestly, he had no idea what was going on. There were lights, the ground shook, and the inquisitor looked like she was taking a nasty shit. Xib could relate; he had been in this situation many times when standing his post. 

Those eyes widened as he watched her form alter itself. The body that sprouted from the giant was a big shelled sister. Proof that somehow she came from both their races, at least within his eyes. Or, maybe, they all had a giant inside of them? He had watched as his comrade was ripped open, full of smooshy bits. Xib let the leech free, enduring any pain or possible death. If he was still alive, he slapped his frontal plating. "Uhh, giant? hello? You be inside?" The others were shocked, looking at one another while scratching their rears. 

"We swear feel tea's." They replied in unison, unknowingly screwing up the word as one by one they dropped to their knees, only to fall on their backs and swing their limbs about in vain to help each other up.

 

"Chiefs down!" The guards ran in, lifting them one by one as Xib had mixed emotions. Big female, large eggs, healthy offspring. Was it cheating if he seduced the turtle side? Or were they both the same? So many questions, not enough logs, a common problem.

"Big building on shell, be an old castle. We no like it, not enough mud. Palace? We guard, we let others know, spread the word, organize. Mortetor has arrived! It be the age of the hardback!" They growled, waddling about and around each other as they prepared for what was to come. Xib stood there, wondering if he had died and this was all a dream? Did he somehow make history?

The otherworldly leech sucked in a breath, face darkening once more as of course those twisting oral muscles caught her attention almost immediately. A delicious shiver rippled across the gray woman’s sleek form. Flora’s goal to agitate that already indecisive soul was easily met, the realm of the creature’s shyness quickly evaporating as seamlessly that challenge was accepted.

 As Flora spoke, that bloodsucking appendage sneaked forth once more past those convenient hatches, it’s oiled form flicking swiftly across those divine gates in the time the diva took to ‘stretch’. A low trill of approval left the devourer's throat, as nonchalantly that limb was then raised to her lips, oral leech tasting it’s surface while otherwise crackling hues drank in her Brood Bitch, listening to that proposition.

 

“I like the sound of that.” she cooed, before glancing at the surrounding Turizens as her diva’s words regarding their inevitable subservience brought joy to the parasite’s sick heart. 

Her metallic orbs flickered at the words that left her lover’s lips next, a hum resonated forth, and conceded in this instance the need for her to relinquish control. That leech infested head bobbed, albeit a bit reluctantly

 

“We’ll celebrate after this if over” The hitch hiker slipped from that royal caboose, before smiling up at the giantess as their eyes met, those tri-teeth flashing widely as she pretended to catch the kiss and place it unto her cheek. 

It took a second for the parasite to realize that Xib was talking, and she turned partially towards him, immediately weary of his sudden proximity. “Mmh.. Thanks for uh, trying? I didn’t think they’d believe us anyway. Action is the best evidence.” she shrugged, shifting her weight and touching the ring of leechlings nestling together around her throat, comforted by their presence. 

Florentina’s warning reached the glossy woman’s ears with a tenseness, Nyso looked sharply towards that fellow apex predator, taking a deep breath as the crystal heart in her palm was shattered, and immediately those sounds of agony pierced the air. Typically, the sound of screams would bring delight to this bloodthirsty creature, but this.. It penetrated a deep feeling of alarm within Nysoesa’s being. Everything inside her reacted, and in that same moment that Xib decided to step in. 

The Hirudinea screeched, an unnatural primal noise as she thrashed against his smelly hold “GET OFF!” she howled,  His was dangerously close to being bitten, the threat of a very bloody death close at hand. It was by his luck that most of her focus was held entirely captive, made to watch the sight of her beautiful wife being torn apart, morphing in strange ways into that of the armored Mortetor. With a hiss, the parasite regurgitated that incredibly slimy residue on to the turtle’s arms, her naturally glossy figure twisting and jerking whilst the tendrils attached to her skull turned about. They sank their fangs into his face as a means to deter him, not injecting that life-taking coagulant, unless his grip failed to loosen enough so that she could tear herself from his grip. 

Silver eyes beheld the sight of the large creature with distaste, until it dissipated into Florentina once more. “Flora-” she breathed, moving to her side in seconds

 

“Are you.. you?” The leech spoke softly, faltering a bit as concern littered her tone and features. The sudden shouts of the Truizen’s around them made her flinch slightly, the state of disarray that had settled inside her making the creature jumpy. 

They seemed to be in awe of this spectacular feat, which boded well.. It seemed indeed that the blonde’s plan had achieved their goal, they were one step closer towards the power they both seeked. Yet.. the blood coming from Flora’s nose didn’t seem like a good thing. At the giantess’s current height, the blood worm could only reach out, going to thread their fingers together as her focus shifted to the sight of many turtles overturned on their backs. She snorted, paying more mind at the mention of shelter

 

“The palace, is it close?” she asked, turning towards the individuals that had mentioned it, a steely glare piercing their forms coolly. 

The alien couldn’t even look at Xib, the fury that she held still close at hand, twisting her gut and rioting that he had dared to interfere. His fucking stink clung to her back, making her feel vile and in despirate need of some clean water to swim in.

The logmancer was lost, his world views had continued to be shaken which gave him a headache. Xib had witnessed his brother torn open, full of squishy bits. Then he saw Florentina go from giant to turtle only to return without a shell. The turtle grumbled to himself while scratching the side of his jaw as he started pillowsophizing.  Maybe hard and softback was on the inside, not the outside? This made some sense, His friend was weak and smooshy while the inquisitor was hard as a log before fertilization. Having uncovered the truth, or at least what he had considered being the truth, Xib returned his attention toward the Leech and her incubator. 

The turzien smiled, his hand tracing that bite mark, which was like that of his pickled friends in the jar.  Nysoesa had kissed him, which meant they were best buds. This brought tears to his eyes, as the oaf sniffled from joy. He had lost one buddy and had gained two allies that he could skip rocks and discuss deep pillowsophical theories. "This one glad to have friends, Xib cherish and protects new family. Come, we waddle to new home."

 

A goofy chuckled escaped his snapper while this behemoth started to slowly ascend those stairs. Xib was guiding them up the shell to that of the palace of rock on the dome of the old guardian. "Holy site, none worthy to call home. We deem you Morertor, thus, wise woman of the shell and flesh. This one be happy that friend no lie, this one be giggly."

Xib yawned as he moved into the fortified abode. The inside was surprisingly tidied given its age, it suggested that their people maintained this structure in the hopes that one day their prophecy might be fulfilled. The clumsy reptile stubbed his toe on a rock, hopping and growling as he continued to climb that spiraling staircase to the largest tower. Upon reaching the top, he'd hold the door open while bowing before his new queens. "Highest nest, Xib guard outside. Tell this one when ready and what to do next. Take time, Xib recite song of log in bog in head." Once they passed, the door would be secured while the turtle plopped on his rear, dangling those stubby feet off the side as he looked into the darkness. 

"Xib, what be he? Soft or hard back?" A troubled expression rested on his face as he picked his nose.

The princess felt no shame, her disrobed form was the zenith of feminity after all. Its beguiling curves and irreproachable skin warranted to be reverenced as if it were the manifestation of virility itself. This metamorphosis took a toll on her, the processes that led to perfection were unquestionably laborious. Still, it was a meager price to pay to see her siblings squirm under the gravity of her shadow and heel. Their internalized adumbration is like a luscious wine, well-aged, and long since mellowing for consumption. Truthfully, the turzien's subjugation was merely the glazing on the cake. Whether or not they accepted her would only expedite or fleetingly stall the inescapably that was her transcendence. 

Those emerald lanterns looked about, feeling pride as her newfangled subjects scampered off to prepare the way forward. This lot was quite dimwitted; nonetheless, as a tool, they had a purpose to perform within the creation of her regime. An administration that will leave its mark on the jungle, eternally altering the trajectory of their history. Assuring that both her and Nysoesa's names were registered within the annals of memory. She had dawdled enough, the agent pivoting those feet so that she faced her lover and that oafish turtle. A smile cemented itself on those becoming hallmarks, an indication that Florentina extracted some semblance of purpose from the fulfillment of her vows. Nyso's words were noted, along with that adorable expression of concern.

"Am I me? Who else would I be? Did you think such a transformation could conquer my unyielding spirit? My love, your lack of faith wounds me."  Florentina placed that hand amidst the valley of her ample breast, feigning displeasure ever so theatrically. Only to then punctually differ her focus toward Xib.

"Friends, yeah, whatever. Hurry up and lead your queens to their rightful place. We have much to accomplish, and little time to squander." She lied, hoping a sense of urgency would spur this nincompoop on.

Confidently, the inquisitor strutted forward, standing by her wife's sides as she held her hand. Contently she'd peer down at the parasite from the corner of those eyes. "I...thought of you the entire time, you know that?" The often austere mistress fumbled, her words being accompanied by a blush. This feeling of vulnerability was seldomly exhibited, although, even she was powerless to hinder its emergence.

Thankfully, it didn't take long for the languid reptilian to escort the two toward that palace. The moss-covered stairs were slippery, but hardly a hindrance for one of her experiences. The higher they climbed, the smaller the marshlands seemed.  It was oddly humbling, witnessing the world from this vantage point only kindled the voracious hunger for more. The need for domination could never be allayed, only deferred. "Look, Nysoesa, all that you see and more I will govern for our family. I promised you a crown, and, while I might have dallied due to...wanton diversions, I have achieved my promise. I will be your wife, your brood bitch. I will spend a eternity so you never know the grief of being abandoned again. I know that sting, for, before our chanced meeting, I too was...suffering, although I didn't know it at the time."

The trio slipped beyond the threshold. Florentina scrutinizing their new abode as they sauntered deeper into this soon-to-be breeding den.  From between her muscular thighs, an army will be conceived, and with this unadulterated expression of concupiscence and love. The totality of the world would yield in due time. That spiraling staircase was tight, making it so that agent had to shrivel back to her partner's favored height so that she could comfortably squeeze within that tunnel. Soon, they'd reach the top as Xib held the door like a gentleman pledging to defend the couple while they...discussed a few matters. Stepping in first, the inquisitor would move to the window, placing her palms on the cold stone before salaciously bending forward as she stared at the horizon.

The noise of that barricades closing urged a wicked smile as teasingly the sovereign wiggled her bum. "Funny, I have wandered across many lands. My fists have pulverized innumerable adversaries and this body survived a slew of trials and tribulations. Each foray into the fray only brought me closer to this moment. I was the runt of the litter, brushed off as a wasted investment by my peers. I am appreciative of their opposition, for it was the fuel that kept my lamp lit during the darkest of times. Now, look at me.  I have only grown while they've stagnated. I have an army, a faction, and have honed my martial skills." 

Playfully, she'd glance back at her wife, holding her lewd position as that split tongue traced her lips. A provocative wink awarding her perfect blood-sucker for her devotion. "But, most of all, I have you and our children. I know, it's cheesy and clashes with my hardened exterior. But, Nysoesa, I want you to know that I am fearful for the first time in my life. For I now have something to lose. A treasure, that if it slips from my fingers. Even an eternal odyssey across this world would present no comparable lover." Those eyes drifting, looking down at the bog, as she let out a sigh. "Sorry, I must sound stupid. This isn't the predator you have come to love."

Nysoesa’s silver pools held fast to her princess’s features, that theatrical jest causing the creature to falter, of course Florentina would be fine, she was an elite killer not unlike herself, more versatile than any other that the alien had managed to come across. She was easily the embodiment of power and unshakable confidence, and not even some crazy metamorphosis could breach that will. The Bloodsucker felt foolish then, for allowing such a gross embellishment of emotions to overtake her.

 “Sorry..” she bit the inside of her cheek, glancing away as Xib interjected and began leading them towards the tower steps. The Leech was quick to perk at the sound of that admission, and looked back up in time to see the beautiful blush gracing the blonde’s features. Nyso smiled, feeling warmed once again as she squeezed their entwined fingers

 

“I know it was foolish to be so worried.. But before you.. There wasn’t a single soul in all of my life that I cared so strongly for, Meu Amor” she confessed, her own blush cresting her cheeks as they climbed those curling stairs.

 

The view truly was rather impressive, growing up in the lower bowels of the swamp, chained to such a bland way of life, this change in perspective meant a lot to the abomination. Listening to Florentina’s words, more strange emotions began to well within the creature’s heart, “It means more to me than you can ever know. When we first made that pledge to one another, it had been for selfish reasons. I never could have guessed such an amazing woman would become my home, and give me the honor of calling her mine.” She uttered softly, stepping behind Flora past the threshold, passing a glance across the interior of their new abode fleetingly as the sight of the platinum goddess outlined by the skyline captivated the parasite completely.

Listening to those words, Nysoesa closed the distance between them quietly, pleased to note that the giantess’s figure had shifted into her favored height, as the leech disrobed from the fabrics that would separate their flesh. Moving in close, the bloodsucker’s hands glided across those exposed hips before tugging them so that shapely rear smacked against her front, the secret leech between her legs peeking out from its place within her garden whilst her hands tracking up that muscular stomach, and tracing the curves of those buoyant breasts.

 One hand grasped her lover’s jaw, turning her to gaze into crackling silver eyes as Nyso planted a kiss to her cheek “Don’t apologize, I like hearing you talk like this.. So I know I’m not the only one madly in love in this relationship” she laughed, eyes crinkling with happiness

 

“You are exactly the perfect killer I adore, and just as much as I love watching you crush our lessers with your bare hands and being at your side as we subjugate this land to our might, I find that being able to see you like this.. It is almost sweeter, because I know it is only for me.”

 

The alien purred, before angling that head so that her tongue could graze along the Diva’s throat, whilst her leechly tendrils wrapped about her arms and encroached around those pillowy mounds, their slick figures painting her skin.That large rear appendage raised at last, wrapping across those hips, holding their bodies tightly together as that fanged tail pushed past those southern gates, as one after the other, eggs began filling her beautiful Bood Bitch. 

Her lips paused their crusade along that throat, her breath dancing as she spoke “You have struggled and have been spurned, but together we will make them regret ever underestimating you.” she kissed her throat one again, before biting down, leaving that signature tri-fanged mark for

The Leech to admire as she pushed herself deeper into her Diva, savoring the feeling of finally filling that perfect vessel.

"Mortetor."

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