The Codex Anthronatura: Lulu

This episode features masochism and size queen fetishes. It includes cervical pain and vaginal stretching.

Illuminated Gospel

A tome trimmed and clasped with a lock of brilliant bismuth.

The beast gospel of the blasphemous church preaches of their stolen god, who now toils in a cage of bronze. One day, say the beast nuns, they will return to their homeland.

Then, the rightful law of demons will return to Daevograd's mankind, and the true divine bull will be freed from his shackles to wreak havoc again.

Where might have been morning fog there was naught but brimstone's haze. Where might have been an august glen there was naught but basalt columns sparsely broken by pasture and graven with circuits of demonic logic. A bad valley, from which all mankind was driven, leaving only their echoes.

The sun's fuzzy corona winked behind the black-stained steeple of a beast chapel, attended by age-stippled statues of five great-horned cowgirls. Into the valley, across the jagged shade of mountains and through the chapel's eternal vigil, a clap, and a long and fertile braying of some ecstatic manner.

With rapture on her pink lips rapidly parting-- with her milky set of huge, pale udders shelfing on the pen of a long-fallow homestead-- Lulu cried out in lewd fever. "Moo!" she bellowed, wetness as abundant as autumn's floods puddling beneath her. "Yes, sir, yes! Give it to me as a real bull should!"

Modest horns, preened and proper, came up from a tangle of sweat-stressed holstein hair. Floppy folded ears were by fair, domineering hands vised, and used like reins to bow Lulu's back. Beneath a barrel-fat ass, battered red and violet by doggystyle, were quaking, jiggling legs; at their end, from a pillowy hide, cloven hooves drawing euphoric circles in the mud.

Qora's cock retreated, giving but a half-second's breath to the bruises he left on Lulu's cervix-- which now, given chance, leached a brand-hot and benedictine ache, into her adoring womb. She drooled only the beginnings of a moan, a half-made and cum-addled praise to Qora and her saints, the Minotaurs; what emerged instead were the aftershocks of an uncounted orgasm.

"I love how you break me apart, Qora," she whimpered. "My poor pussy hurts so good! I hope I never get used to your massive bull cock!"

To this land, had fled man and dire beast from hated Daevograd, and from this land they were in turn driven by the waking of the Apocalyptrix, to vanguard the reconquista. In place of that craglorn scape of metal swamps and high cathedrals, was the same but silent, only to hearken to the loftiest days of their exile.

Beneath the watch of the Minotaurs, the orphans of the Brass-Caged Bull, Lulu wailed in joy and agony. Then, she split open again, her fuck-wild and squishing pussy screaming welcomes to Qora's monster. Fist-broad and tungsten-hard, it bulged out even through her pillowy belly, and coaxed up lewd foam to fall in sheets over his huge and lust-tense ballsack.

"I'm yours, Qora! Make me your pathetic cow; use me, break me, destroy me!"

"Are those tears in your eyes, Lulu?" Qora taunted with a demon's grin. "Does it sting too badly?"

"No, sir! I want more, I want everything you have! Don't hold back for one second, my bull! Use me until I'm all used up!"

Until finally, his hips-- svelte and corded, and letting bone just hint from beneath-- crushed again her tortured butt with beast-god's thunder. Another snap to journey the haze-held glen, another bruise flowing through her quicksilvery booty, another jolt of godly agony from her womb's sodden entrance. Then, another sky-piercing moo, to spread her cum in sonic ways to the world's most desolate reaches.

As her guts wrenched with his glory, as his palm retrod its blackening print, as her ears stung with his piloting, she felt the stripes of shade upon her. The Minotaurs' shadows, those of their cats-of-nine barbed and wicked, checkered Lulu as though to stripe her with their own lashes. Like aftercare for her sweat-sheened face, those shadows cooled instead of burned.

The lesser orgasms still rolling began to shrink beneath their now-waking greater like a masochist beneath the paddle. Like the Apocalyptrix's cloven stilletto-steps, it was heard like from a great distance away; like the shadows of the Minotaurs' whips it impended, but did not strike yet.

"Blessed saints, it might be too much! You're going to ruin my pussy!"

Qora hissed back. "I hope I do, I want this fat pussy all for myself, forever. Every time your ass loses its purple, I want to remind you. I want you to beg me to hurt you again."

"Yes, yes, my beautiful bull... I'll plead and beg like a slut for it, for you to bully me more. I'll give you whatever you ask-- blowjobs, milk-- as long as you keep hurting me!"

At the crest of every thrust his balls, as sternly as judging mallets, pounded on her clit; divine sparks cindered in her cinching pussy, like memories of the god-beast storm long stolen. Her vagina, wreaked and wanting, tried to embrace dearer to Qora's cock, but there was no tightness left to muster around Qora's bitch-battering shaft. Her tuft-tipped tail belted his waist, to brace herself, however fruitlessly, for the tempestuous and leaden sperm bloating his ballsack.

With shaking fingers she drew up splintery glyphs from her fence, as though to plumb the stupid throes of cum-addled torture for demonic programs, and circuit them there. Her panting, tear-tasting lips could scarcely draw up new praises, nor stifle with a bite; instead, Lulu wailed, wobbly and droning, until her breath ran out, and stuck up her throat. Then finally, she could steal breath again from Qora's bullying manhood, and begin anew.

"Moo!" she babbled through incoherent drool. "I'm your big, fat, stupid paincow, Qora! You're my huge-cocked bull, sir! Brand me with your body, sir! Mark me so I'll never forget you!"

So dreadfully did her buttcheeks clap under Qora's fervor, that between them gathered crimson bruise-speckled heat, and their thunder nearly defeaned out the spanks of his unforgiving hand. No more silent seconds did she have to cool her body; every new agony supplanted the last, and further crossed her dumb and tear-shot eyes, with the Minotaurs' great red-haloed chapel at their vertex.

Her cream-thick thighs kicked with fever, acting out the shocks inside. Every new, horrible, beautiful impulse was cum's vanguard, like the distant faithful, the vanguards of the homecoming. Every lewd lowing heralded cum, like the chants of ancient gospel would one day herald the Great Red Dragon from her torpor. Until finally, she stood at cum's violent precipice, unable to weather just one more thrust.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" she squealed. "Moo, I'm cumming so hard!"

And all the thunderheads inside opened up, and like the floods therefrom Qora released his jizz's gallons. Each scorch-white lance, each stronger, more sweltering throb, was shared in by Lulu's pulsing pussy. Her womb, hot as mercury gases, sang hosanna; her ova prostrated before his sperm. Even the valley fell silent of her screams, which now were merely hoarse stutters or arrested yelps of remnant pain.

But with her body, bountiful and plush, and crossed with the hell-red marks of worship, she chanted a black mass. Every nerve, writhing and spasming, remembered divine lightning, and the age-lost hickeys of the saints. And they bellowed out in catharsis, until they had none left to give.

And Qora's cock fell free, and from her fucked-out vagina poured his cum in argent rivers to the well-stomped mud beneath. Her agonies, just a moment past a mind-wracking perdition, dulled to a morrow ache. The shadow's razor lashes departed from her still-weeping, twitching face-- leaving nothing behind.

"By god, I can't stop shaking, sir. I'm amazed," she whispered.

The grip with which she split the fencing boards now slackened, and jubilance faded to idleness. Her hooves, which had been stampeding with rapture, instead merely stumbled until they stood firm in the bucket-much puddle of Qora's jizz. Her belly, fatter with just Qora's precum, and ballooned in the throes of orgasm, was unswelling by the moment.

The chapel slinked behind the sun's pale glare; the pleasant sorrow of her butt felt colder now. The choirs she illused in abyssal ecstasy were quiet now, like the wind of some mountains over, and the masses she shared with all the saints were hers alone. Prophecy which once ravaged her body was in the way of dreams returning to the sullen depths of memory.

The floggers of the grand statuary, tanned in the waters of a thousand pain-stricken orgasms, consecrated only after the five-hundredth lash, stood as glorious as their most ancient legends said. Such faith could stand eternal in its vigilance, surviving even the theft of a god-- surviving even eschatology itself.

Qora's hand gently perused her body, to ease the torment away, and have his company instead. His arms sank into her like into cotton, and into him she sank in turn. There was comfort in his words, in the idle knotting of her black-spotted hair, in the working of cum's last embers from her pummeled clit.

But not in the warmth of the sun, and not in the peopleless glen, and not in the whistling of abandoned church bells. Not in the stony silence of the sun-shrouded Minotaurs.