Conquering The Caste (Patreon)

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Chanda was woefully bad at meditation for a woman so revered for her closeness to the Gods. The daily drudgery of meandering about in awful silence, legs crossed uncomfortably, nostrils saturated with the scent of incense billowing about in her prayer room as she waited for holy revelation that took hours, if not full on days to come at times, was easily the most despised of her many roles as chiefly Purohit of her village.

Living up to her name, she had at many times shirked her duty to engage in it, boastfully declaring that she needn’t the strain and effort of those unnecessary traditions that the elder gurus insisted she submit to, and she’d managed to prove herself right in that assertion for quite a while. After all, what use was it for one who had already so clearly touched divinity to painstakingly reach for the hand of the heavenly powers when they were right beside them? What power could arise, what trouble could manifest, that Chanda would not so effortlessly and skillfully lead their people through as she always had?

She was no chief of their village…not in name, at the very least, that was a role reserved solely for men in the eyes of the Gods, but she bore no spite at being withheld from a mere title when her station granted her all she might want from such standing and more. She was Brahmin, one closest to heaven, ordained to serve the might of their people’s Gods and be their divine emissary, to spread the peace and order of their word…and if it was so fit…to be a conduit for their righteous anger upon the mortal powers that opposed them.

She had served that role well all her life, from the merest age of fourteen she had been plucked from the herd of lesser castes that surrounded her, the lowly commoners that would defile her purity as one meant to carry them all closer to escape from the endless samsara that eroded their souls. Only a scant few would whisper of the deeper talents that gossiping market women spoke of her being endowed with, talents that would potentially save their people from the oncoming threat to their very civilization.

The thought of it made a shudder trail through her spine, the knowledge that their village was filled with little more than women, children, the sick and the elderly as their men had banded forces against the invading forces that sought to raze to the ground any cities that would not bend to the glow of their silver coins and the fearsome power of their mighty muskets. Even now, she could barely manage to keep her mind afloat with the images that flashed through it, thousands of atrocities committed against her people, the trade of spice into the hands of the men who sought to rule over them by the cowardly despots who fashioned themselves to be kings and disgraced their position as Brahmin for the wealth of foreigners.

She searched and searched through each vision that assailed her, her breath quickening, heart thumping away beneath her chest as sweat slowly trickled across her ripe brown skin. A single man pervading her visions with absurd frequency until he totally dominated them, fair, pale skin and short hair the color of the burning sun at dawn, rallying troops behind him and effortlessly plowing through the bodies of rebel warriors to push his men forward, a symphony of voices chattering across her mind before a gasp burst from her lips and she hurriedly stood to her feet.

“I see…your will is my own, my Gods. I will see it done.” She whispered, her robes slipping over her body as it glistened with the dew of her own perspiration dousing her from head to toe, falling at her feet with an unceremonious whump, a smile upon her lips as her wet, matted hair stuck to her forehead.

It seemed the intensity of her meditation wasn’t felt merely by her, given how the doors to her chambers were pushed open by one of the temple maidens, a mousy little girl who had only recently been inducted into service with them, worried for Chanda’s health only to be shocked into frozen silence at what was before her.

For most young women, to be bared in their bare-skinned glory within a house of worship would be utterly mortifying, much less so than to be seen by one of its most devoted servants in such a worldly state. Yet Chanda seemed far from embarrassed…no, she was proud to be admired by the woman’s eyes as she gawked and gulped audibly with her eyes as wide as saucers, the smoky wisp of incense filling the room giving her nude form an even greater ethereal quality like she had emerged as the blinding image of Lakshmi incarnated in the flesh.

Her skin was a rich, shiny umber, a luxuriant and exotic tone that made every last exaggerated curve and smooth, silky swell of feminine flesh across her body that much more hypnotizing to observe. A face luscious and full with eyes that matched her dark hair, brimming with a confident gleam of total self-assurance, a long, sharp nose with plump lips that shone like a glossy, cocoa-butter sheen was permanently applied to those puffy brown flesh-pillows at every waking moment.

The woman thought to herself that it would be a foul act of disrespect to look her better in the eye…she was but a lowly Shudra lucky enough to earn a place looking after this honored place of worship after all…and yet looking anywhere else felt ten times as sinfully erotic! Unhidden by the loose fitting fabric of her worship robes, it became quite apparent that Chanda’s breasts, more than just unusually large, were outright titanic!

 Enormous orbs of ripe, round feminine flesh that could very well contest the size of the udders on the village’s sacred cow, topped off with ripe nipples budding those breasts and standing perfectly upright with a youthful perkiness and bouncy firmness that went beyond the mere blessings of a well-bred woman in the peak of her sexual development and touched the realm of a divine blessing of fertility. Her beauty being divinely given was supported all the more by the outstanding curvature of her hips that supported the wide, wobbly wagon of bubbly brown booty-fat piled atop her huge, meaty thighs shining with her sweat and smooth as the finest of Indian silk…

“You. You are a servant here, yes? I’m not familiar with your face.”

Chanda’s voice made the young girl squeak with fear at the realization she’d been caught red-handed in her hypnotized admiration of her. Body trembling as she tried her best to push away the thoughts of the myriad of awful punishments she might have been subjected to if she noticed her blatant ogling.

“Errr…I…my name is Surpriya, mistress. I clean the stables and feed the cows, that may be why you haven’t seen me…I-I was worried for you when I was cleaning the courtyard and heard a sound. F-forgive me, I mean not to disgrace you..”

“Fetch me a horse and three days worth of rations, girl. Do not prostate yourself excessively before me, it will do nothing but make me truly direct my ire towards you…I have a trip to prepare for.” She stated, effortlessly imposing and exuding an aura of Queenly control that followed her as she slid her feet firmly down the steps from the podium, a chorus of light, yet thunderous “ᴘʜᴡᴀᴘ~ᴘʜᴡᴀᴘ~ᴘʜᴡᴀᴘ~” announcing her every move before she was looking down at the bite-sized Surpriya, breasts casting a pitch-black shadow upon her as the woman’s statuesque six-foot height, far beyond what even some of the most physically imposing Kshatriyas across the near-continental mass of country their people inhabited.

“And Surpriya…do make sure you relish the sight I’ve gifted you with. I can guarantee you’ve never…and likely will never be met with a better one in your lifetime, so make sure to capture it in your mind, that is a command from your superior, understood.” She winked at the dusky-haired handmaid, letting the moment settle as the young girl took full advantage of her permission to stare unhindered before her shyness eventually won over her, squealing that she would fetch the supplies her mistress demanded as she scurried off with a heated blush and a needy fire stoked within her core at the memory of those piercing eyes glancing down at hers.

A small part of Chanda hoped that what she was journeying to face would turn out just as awe-struck and lulled into submission by the mere presence of her magnificence before them…but she knew instinctively that a far greater threat loomed ahead of her…and deep down, she eagerly welcomed that challenge for all it entailed.

—

It was two dusks later when the travelling band of men waving the banners of the East India Company had camped between the towering mountains dotted across the country’s golden plains. It was easy enough to find them, a simple task of following the trail of billowing smoke, trampled wheat and general environmental decay, for the most part.

 Their band was far from expansive, a collection of skirmishing warbands bundled together with little rhyme or reason, much to Chanda’s disgrace, many amongst them did not hail from the land of the white man, hired mercenaries who had sold off their pride in their fellow countrymen and now gleefully acted to further the goals of foreign forces intent on the destruction of their very way of life.

 There was an essence that followed their camp, a scent of degradation that mired the priestess’s nostrils the closer she was to their ranks. It wasn’t the simple smell of filth and dirt that often clung to the masses of poverty stricken peasants that filled the lower castes…this was charcoal, grit, steel and gun-oil, the mass-produced tools of conquest that scourged their land with their destructive influence…but these weapons alone, the discord sowed between settlements that these white devils used to divide and conquer their country…that could not be nearly enough to make their advance upon them as successful as it was, it could not break the sturdy spirit grafted upon the best of their leaders by the Gods themselves.

No, weapons, even the devilishly crafty trinkets that would put the most clever of Krishna’s tricks to shame, could not win wars by themselves. There was a man behind the power of these invaders, and that very figure, joyfully laughing as he rode his horse about the camp, locks of hair the color of the dawning sun and billowing about with each trot of his mount’s powerful legs across the fertile heath.

The beast he rode upon was like a mirror image of himself, imposingly large even amongst the most primely bred examples of war horses, rife with thick muscles running across every portion of its body like an anatomical drawing brought to life, its riders biceps so tanky and swollen with his own prodigious strength that he had to modify his mercenary’s uniform to accommodate the mass of his musculature. The sleeves on his deep red uniform cut off at the middle of his arm to leave every inch of powerful pale flesh exposed to the open air, its buttons undone at the peak of his torso to display the beginnings of a hair-strewn chest jutting out proudly from his exaggeratedly masculine posture along with the sheer size of his enormous pecs.

Chanda didn’t need more than a second’s worth of thought to be sure that this was the man revealed to her in her visions, his awe-inspiring, undeserved handsomeness, the chiseled frame of his sturdy jawline…and that smile, the cheeky smile of a pale-skinned devil so absolutely assured in his victory that he could scarcely comprehend the forces plotting to stop him in his tracks, much less how insurmountably powerful they were compared to the boastful symbols of strength and power he bore with the gaudy jewellery lacing his neck and his pumped-up muscles.

Not that any of the earthly trinkets and symbols of his supposed power he had gathered would be of any use to him anymore…not when his blood was offered to the land as retribution for the many sins upon it he had enacted. She knew, instinctively, that his presence was the linchpin on which the success of their military campaign lied, and that belief was only that much more solidified within her mind as she observed him approaching the tent seated at the very foot of the mountain their camp was leaning against, the largest and most well fortified lodging place out of them all reserved for him and him alone.

Her horse whinnied softly in the air, as though reacting to the aura of brimming rage that it felt overcoming its owner, soothed out of its grunting fury by Chanda’s soft, warm hand patting down its neck. No…they would wait for nightfall first, where her blade would be cloaked under the shadow of the mountains, and the invaders would taste the true power of the Gods in their righteous rage.

It was deep within the dead of the night, when crickets chirped across the billowing wheat blades dotted across the landscape, and nothing but swarms of dozens of fireflies could illuminate the pitch-black darkness that fell upon the camp, that Geoffrey Graham, head of the scrappy band of swords-for-hire, and unofficial co-ordinator of the East India Company’s tireless campaign of conquest over all the known South-Asian peninsula. 

The position he slept in was emblematic of the very essence of his existence, a drowsy smile on his face with his limbs spread out across his mattress, sheets tossed about messily across his body while he snored like the bellows of an ogre through his wide, long nose. 

Somewhere, far from his line of sight in the corner of his room, skulking alongside the collection of finely crafted weapons and trinkets from the four corners of the world that adorned his space, prizes collected from each prior conquest he had served for, a showcase of every civilization he’d razed to the ground and conquered for his pale-skinned devil tribe. The figure was pitch-black, skin the shade of pure, potent dark ink that blended in so well that even the most sharp-sighted snipers stood little chance of solidly pinpointing its position…or at least they would have before one of its black arms rose above Geoff’s head, carrying a short hunter’s knife held tightly in one hand, glinting with the shine of the moon spilling in through the tent’s entrance, keeping the weapon lifted high for a few tense moments before thrusting the blade down with total readiness to end his life…

KRASH! 

“UMPH!”

A snarling woman’s voice screamed hindu curses up at the broad, pale figure holding her down into the mattress, squirming and writhing pathetically as a voice like a vulgar sailor’s chastised her.

“What we got here, eh? Little mudskin trying to engage in some good old Guerilla warfare I take it? Cut off the head and take the whole Giant down is what I bet you were thinking, wasn’t it? A gentleman would probably take you as a prisoner, but me…let’s just say you’re out of luck, why don’t you hope your God rebirths you as an Englishman next time?” He laughed down at her, a cruel, wicked laugh, a taunting one. 

Mocking her, mocking her Gods, a transgression she couldn’t accept, wouldn’t accept, one she desperately fought back against as his giant hand pinned her into the feather-stuffed mattress…it had all happened so quickly, in an infinitesimally small fraction of a fraction of a second where her body had been gripped and tossed around like a ragdoll, instantly capitulating to his strength…it shouldn’t have been that way…couldn’t have, and yet, she had no choice but to accept the glaring fact facing her as the broad blonde Englishman set alight his nearby oil lamp to gaze upon his attacker.

“Well…Christ alive, I knew this country had its exotic animals, but I hadn’t expected anything like this…” He chuckled to himself, a look of faint curiosity apparent in his face as he laid witness to…well, what could only be described as an enchantingly beautiful woman with skin the shade of purple hydrangeas, and…probably more concerningly, a set of six arms, four of which were currently bashing back into Geoffrey’s rock-solid abdomen to little effect.

Her angered screams in Hindi were abruptly cut off by the man’s giant ivory palm bearing down on her head from above and smothering her face to quiet her down, a position of defeatedness that only served to inflame her rage that much more. Just how was he this strong? She couldn’t count the number of arrogant bandit hordes and stray mercenary bands that had fallen at her hands with more ease than the seeds of a dandelion blowing away at the breeze of the wind. 

So why was she being so easily dragged around and pinned beneath this oafish white bastard who…who seemed to have a habit of sleeping in the nude, given how her many hands found a totally bare surface of sturdy abdominal muscle, the meaty tissue of his finely cut obliques and creating the hypnotizing lines of a solid “V” cut out from his abdomen that led to the base of a massive, mammoth sized pillar of prime British man-beef currently warming up between the woman’s cushiony, colorful rear ass-flanks as it slowly roused from its sleeping state just as its owner did. And in the same fashion, they each awakened with a lusty fury that oppressively bore down against her body while she squealed into the pillows with bleeding anger rushing through her.

“Now…do me a damn favor and shut the hell up, will you? You goddamn squealing codger. Maybe you do that for me and I’ll let you get a damn word in…in English though, and quietly. Pardon my inadequacy, but I don’t quite care to learn your people’s little bastardized Arabic tongue.” He warned her, grazing the knife in his hand, the very same one that was so close to piercing his throat a scant few moments ago, across the side of her neck as a silent warning…one that she could only comply with, a tiny scowl on her face as his weight lifted off her, still close enough that he could tackle her in a single swift moment and imprison her completely if she so much as made a noise that annoyed him, a thought that made her hands and spine tremble as she slowly flipped over on the mattress with an arm clasped against her torso while her thighs clamped shut to hide as much of her bare, bosomy figure as she could.

“Well…look at you now, pretty little dove in a house full of hens, and here I thought all the women of this country were stick-thin twats who’d fall apart like a tumbleweed from a wee flick of my finger. But then again…do you really count as a woman? Pretty sure the only extra parts you gotta have are those tits…though I wouldn’t mind if you had a couple more of those that you’re hiding.” He smirked, the rough, grisly accent he bore resembling that of a pilfering pirate moreso than the most trusted employee of the world’s biggest, burgeoning private military hellbent on conquering her home.

She didn’t reply, though her eyebrow twitched as confusion tremored through her, partially offended at this hulking white bastard’s racist remarks, though a smaller, more self-absorbed part of her nodded along to the sentiment of how greatly she outclassed the women around her and greedily lapped up the ego-feeding remark without a hint of shame to go with it.

“Don’t you dare say that…” 

“Shut those lips up there. You talk when I tell you to talk…what’s your name then?”

“I…Chanda. I…I came because I heard of you, your people, what you’re doing to this country. I have no hope of stopping you, but please, my village lies along your warpath, they are the only ones who would accept me. I beg of you…spare them on your journey-”

A wet, sharp “THWIP~!” cut through the air as the world seemed to spin off kilter in Chanda’s view, seeing double for a short moment from the sheer impact that bashed against the side of her face, which she saw in its entirety, the sight of Geoff’s sternly frowning face glaring down at her with a gaze that made her feel like a child in a body meant for a God…though even his magnetic, strange blue eyes couldn’t keep her focus from the infernal instrument that cut through her flimsy attempt at deception…

She’d tried desperately to keep her eyes from gazing upon the pale member of this disgusting colonizer, assured in her assumption that such a perfect body and face with such a sense of self-assured arrogance in his every move had to have been compensating for something…but now, with the very proof of how laughably wrong she was was twitching along the side of her face, purple skin marked with a deep scarlet dickprint that was further decorated by the creamy dollops of splattering pre-gunk pumping out over her cheek.

“Uʜ...ᴜʜ...ᴜᴡᴀʜ…”

“Save your blathering and deception for another one of your uneducated cattle ranchers. Trying to frame yourself as some poor deformed adoptee looking to save her family…how rich, a performance worth the opera stage, really. But firstly, it’s much harder to sell when you had a knife to my neck a few moments ago, and more than that, I’m not the naive foreigner you think I am…I can sense what you are, I’ve taken the time to look into you, your people, your culture. You’re no beast, nor an ordinary woman…your appearance…Kali, isn’t it? Your people’s war Goddess…heh, your Gods alone are hard for me to wrap my head around, but a woman embodying the strength of your people…no wonder you lost so easily.” He told her, what little flattery that might have filled her at his prior words dissolving into anger once more at the casual disdain Geoff displayed…not that she could say much to contest it, with the lethal weapon that was his brutal cockbat pulsing on the side of her face while he played with her knife before her eyes.

“I…I am no Goddess, do not mock those my people worship, you…you pale-skinned pig of a man. I merely take on her form, as her faithful servant…to destroy the threat to our people’s way of life, the foreign bastards who wish to chain us as their slaves and fatten themselves upon the bounty of our land that was taken from us.” She spitefully spat out, a vicious tone of naked hatred springing from within her and displaying she was far from defeated, even if her target had her unquestionably dead to rights.

“Oh, so that’s what you are. A little lady fancying herself an emissary of the Gods. Never much liked Gods really, we have one in the Queen’s country…he’s not too interesting, not really sure he’s there for much more than the king to call out his name in his speeches. Trust me girl, you’re not the first nor the last faithful follower of some higher will I’ve encountered on my travels…not the first to show me how real their belief is with your odd magic too, yet at the end of the day, it always ends the same. Your Gods may bring their wrath, but this is a new world, use your potions and spells and transformations all you want, against muskets and cannons, you won’t be able to do all that much.” Somewhere during his fanciful speech, the man seemed to have lost interest entirely in keeping Chanda held at the threat of death, his blade retracted from her neck as he strutted down across his tent to a table set at the other side, the tight, musclebound globes of his glutes strangely drawing her eyes to them as he noisily drank like a fish without the slightest regard for any attack she might have planned on him.

He was annoyingly, offensively firm in his casual degradation of everything that defined her as an individual. There was no clear sense of divinity within him, but a bleeding aura of something, some unknown, indeterminable power brimming beneath those bulging muscles that made up his sleek, sweat-soaked figure that assured her that he wasn’t lying when it came to this…his exploits, his past, that he’d razed through dozens of lands with women just like her, oracles whose divine gifts of fortune telling and blessed bounties meant to guarantee their people victory against their oppressors…and they had all failed before the strength of men like him. Powerful, vicious, self-serving white men who had the strength to take the whole world as little more than a playground chocked full of toys to amuse their every waking whim, and the reckless ambition to completely tear away anything that stood in the path to their deepest desires.

“...Challenge me.” She croaked out, a tiny whimper of defiance that managed to arise despite the overwhelming sensation of despair that filled her chest, a testament to the lingering fire that remained blazing inside of her to see the man before her punished for his transgressions to the fullest extent the Gods could allow.

“Excuse me? I could swear I heard you say something, but your voice is so tiny, you ought to speak up if you want to be heard milady.”

“I said, challenge me, you foul white dog. You see it so fit to mock me, my people…my Gods…I do not know how you bested me, but my attempt was…sloppy, I underestimated you, yes. But doesn’t that hurt you? You people, with all your pride and arrogance of your own glory…you can’t even best a lowly little village priestess who knows nothing of her enemy without the advantage of surprise?”

“Says the assassin who had their knife to my neck moments ago.”

“I kill for my people, for the sanctity of those who look upon me for guidance as one closest to the head of the Gods. But you…you fight for glory, and yet you use methods so unbecoming, do you fear naught but a woman who serves a head you think powerless?”

“You’re a funny one woman, I’ll give you that much. You say you want a challenge now? What sort? I wouldn’t want to leave you at too much of a disadvantage…it’s been quite boring just sending and receiving orders here while pushing through this giant heap of grazing lands you call a country. I’ve been in need of some good fun for a while now.”

His acceptance only made the motivation crackling away in Chanda’s heart that much more powerful, her titanic tits standing to attention with her as Geoff finally turned to look her in the eye, her vision darting between his annoyingly smug, unfairly attractive face and the equally conflicting sight of his burly ivory cockmeat that brought to life a hundred hidden thoughts of those bulging veins and fleshy ridges of engorged manhood against the walls of her cunt. Not that she could be singled out as the only one engaged in ogling their opponent, given how deeply Geoffrey was staring into the deep purple ocean of silky soft cleavage bouncing from her chest and oh so close to brushing into his skin as she stepped up to him, her body only narrowly shorter than his and making their eyes perfectly level as she sneered her reply of defiance into his face.

“No. I will not give you the privilege to know you failed at a challenge of my choosing. You will fail at that you are most confident in, that is the only thing that will satisfy me. This fluke has no bearing on my standing as a Brahmin. You think of me as some mere village girl? I was taught to hunt, I was given lessons with some of the greatest academics to ever study in this country. I will defeat you, and when I do…you will leave your men, with shame forever plastered on your name as a deserter, and hide away in your country where none will have to face your oppression again…”

“And if I win?” Geoff interrupted her, cocking his brow and downing yet more liquor, expectantly waiting for the answer he knew she could barely bear to croak out.

“Then…then…you may continue your advance, and…y-you can request one more thing for me to give you as your prize.”

Geoff looked her up and down, smiled, then raised his hand to her in silent acceptance, the crushing force of both of their superhuman gripping strength meeting one another’s as they shook hands, though once again, the British bastard won out in the end as she was ultimately forced to pull her palm away with a light wince, noticing a glint of playful excitement brimming in his eyes as he stared her down for a few moments, a deafening silence thumping in the air before she finally spoke again.

“So then…what is your challenge? Be quick with deciding, there is no contest of true merit you can present me that could possibly make me fold to a beast like you, so speak now so you can have more time to scurry off like the coward you are.”

—

Almost half an hour later, the fiercely trash-talking priestess was already heavily regretting the course of action her arrogance had taken her down. Pride may have been Geoffrey’s weakness, but it was all too clear that her ego was no less obscenely bloated and overindulgent, and the ironclad sense of superiority that made her such a firmly respected figure to her people had now become a double edged sword as she burned with embarrassment while too proud to dare utter a word to protest the challenge she agreed to.

Her form had retaken its original, though no less obscenely sensual naked figure, bearing its own scintillating allure with its less taut and musclebound slopes compared to her physique when drawing upon the power of a Goddess of war, though every bit as full-figured and ripely endowed with tremendously jiggly swells of beautiful bronze titmeat and fat, fuckable assflesh that Geoff was taking his sweet time sampling…

Even feigning disgust was becoming unbearably difficult for her, barely remembering to replace every soft whimper her body beckoned out of her with a tight-faced grimace and wince of defiance. Each moment of his “challenge” feeling like awful eternity that her baser self could never get enough of.

“Y…you truly are some kind of white devil, even in your perversion, you seek to…humiliate me with this unnatural torment. Why? Are you afraid of how easily I could take that oversized…veiny, useless white barbarian cock and make you scr-EEEAKKKKKK~!”

Her breath hitched and faltered, matted locks of wet hair spilling off the edge of the mattress she was laid upon as the unmistakable noise of a creamy, slippery substance being heavily struck by the overwhelming power of a set of strong, beefy, white fingers rang out in the air. The image of Geoff’s hand disciplining the sopping wet surface of her fat, puffy pussy entrancing her into a brainless stare, watching, shivering and simmering with heat while one hand of hers idly reached up to grab her massive, milky caramel tit with a tooth sunk into her bottom lip at the erotic bliss the scene evoked in her, imagining that this was some other woman’s body being so beautifully toyed with for her enjoyment and for a small moment forgetting to hide her ecstasy.

“The rules of the game never said I had to use my cock. Not that I’d mind that, with a body built better than any whore in England like yours…but I’m a man of patience, Chanda. Perhaps the men you’ve been with are a bunch of impatient little imps who prefer to thrust limply for a few moments before they finish themselves off…but I’m a different breed than those…” He grinned at her, hot dribbles of female heat spurting around his fingers as he slid his thick fingers through her creamy cunt with sticky sᴄʜʟᴏʀᴘsʜʟᴘᴘᴘsᴄʜʟʀsᴄʜʜʜʜʜʜs~ oppressively attacking her ears with the sound of her own arousal.

She squirmed and rolled like a fish out of water, salty trickles of perspiration rolling across her body from head to toe as she tried desperately to look away from that smugly smiling face she was sure was looking down at her and enjoying every moment of this. Tossing her head to watch the half-emptied hourglass on the nightstand…thirty more minutes of this torture she had to endure? A part of her that she desperately tried to quiet within her soul was stirred into a frenzied state of worry, distinctly aware of how inexperienced she really was, ashamed at how easily she agreed to a challenge so rigged against her favor. Her purity and chastity as a woman, a priestess and a brahmin had assured that she would never know a man, and she could feel the flickers of a divinely euphoric bliss that sat deep within her core nudging ever closer at the mere thought of what else Geoffrey could do with those firm, manly fingers alone, to say nothing of his manhood…

“I…wuh…s-shut up! You have your time, so do as you please and finish already…nghhhhh…”

“Shush now, look at the hourglass. Does it look like the sand has emptied out from the top? I’ve got my turn to make you tap out, and until this hour ends, that means you get to lie there and take whatever I do to you. So unless you’re scared about me beating you, keep those pretty lips shut like a good lass while I finish my turn.” He told her, admonishing her outraged whines with a thick hand cupping her cheeks to keep her lips pursed and her overactive tongue silent.

Against everything she knew…she nodded. Meekly acquiescing to him, satisfying his depraved desire for domination as she took him at his word. She could handle this…handle some playful teasing and perverse techniques of sexual conquest he had to employ, mere hands alone couldn’t be nearly enough to turn her into the sort of babbling, brainless bitch that would tap out this early in the game. She could outlast this much, and she knew for sure that within the next hour, that uselessly fat slab of British cockbeef would be totally spent, and this barbaric bastard would be begging her to stop PUMPING SPLAT AFTER POWERFUL, PUSSY-STUFFING SPLAT OF PUSSY-STUFFING ARYAN ALPHA JIZZ FREE FROM HIS BALLS BY HER OWN HANDS (ʷʰᶦᶜʰ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ᴺᴼᵀ ᵉˣᶜᶦᵗᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡᶦᵍʰᵗᵉˢᵗ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ…).

Her newfound confidence, shallow as it was, was able to make her bear Geoff’s teasing touches just the slightest bit better, holding out against his hands as they teased her nipple and playfully flicked against her clit and his fat sausage fingers filled out her pussy, pulling her ever closer to the edge of sweet oblivion only to…stop? Right as she was about to feel the brain-rattling rush of pleasure beating across her entire body? Leaving her with nothing but the cold, whistling wind brushing over her brown skin while her thighs as he looked down at her with a cocky little smirk and made her want to scream at the bastard for daring to stop. She looked to the hourglass perched on the nightstand, grains pouring steadily from its upper half and displaying at least ten minutes to go for Geoff’s turn…certainly not enough for him to suddenly let up on her when he was so close to what he should have wanted…

She couldn’t cease her panting for breath to regain some measure of her sanity and self-control, twitching rapidly and slowly coming back down from the pulsing pleasure zapping across her body. But before she could begin to ready herself to question him (and DEMAND that he subject her to the full force of his frighteningly fast-paced fingers pushing her to her limit…so she could prove how ineffective his attempts to make her fall before his slick, sensual finger-fucking, of course…) the feeling of his hands sinking into her thighs and towing her across the mattress till her soft, squishy booty-spheres sloped over its edge as he bent over and stared into her trembling twat.

“What the hell are you–OUUUUHHNNNNNNNNNNN~♥️♥️♥️!!”

A whistling creak of spring coils rocking within the mattress rang out from the sheer suddennes with which Chanda’s body was hauled upwards like it weighed absolutely nothing at all in Geoff’s arms, both his hands cradling her by her absurdly giant, jiggly jello-ass and SQUEEZING them together with the crushing force of his grip pull her lower body into the air while he slammed his head down into the cleft of her cunt and buried his face against her groin without a moment’s hesitation.

There was no teasing or long, drawn-out process of his meaty hands palming and prodding and seeking the very essence of her core to pull out the hidden part of her that echoed with an unimaginable yearning for HIM. 

No, now he was merely satisfying that yearning with an even deeper, more depraved method of tunneling into the silken depths of her molten hot pink pussyfolds and sending out a quaking reaction boring throughout her entire being. He was probing her, tasting her, devouring her, a thick, slimy, manly mouth-muscle of a tongue spilling out of his maw and NASTILY SLURPING AT HER STICKY CARAMEL CUNT WITHOUT A SECOND’S WAIT, HIS NOSE PRESSED INTO HER CLIT WHILE HIS WET ORAL PROBE PUNCHED INTO HER PUSSY AND THUMPED AGAINST HER G-SPOT LIKE HE WAS HAMMERING A NAIL INTO A BROKEN DOOR!

Immediately, Chanda’s body was at odds with her mind, or at the very least, the conscious corner of her mind that was rapidly dwindling away and giving way to the primal desire for nothing beyond what she knew he could give her. Her folds molding and wetly suckling on the thick tensile mass pushing into her glistening cunt and scooping out every squirt of sticky, fruity, jasmin-scented slut juices into his mouth for his enjoyment.

The sickeningly sweet swamp of femcum grew to a near reservoir’s worth of aphrodisiac wetness, and as it trickled down like a waterfall of tasty cunny-cream, forming a nasty sound from the clopping, slickened rear cheekmeat upon which it trickled down as her phat brown fuck-handle cheeks were squeezed into the flowing river of femcum dousing her lower half.

Her fingers found his head by pure instinct, thighs clenched with a force that could’ve broken an average man’s neck as she rolled her hips into him. Resistance was thrown to the wayside, all that remained was the singular sentiment burning through her mind that beckoned her to grind her hips away until she reached her agonizing end…

But just as his hot mouth suckled down on the plush lips of her puffy labia, sucking away with a squishy SCHRRRRPPPPPP~ that made the soundtrack to her oncoming climax suddenly cutting off as he pulled his face away and tossed her to the mattress, flaring her into righteous anger as she sat up with a nasty scowl and prepared to chew him out before he suddenly spoke.

“Looks like my time’s up…a shame, you certainly seemed like you were enjoying yourself~”

Chanda rolled her head to the hourglass, astonished to see the last grains of sand fall down to its bottom, billowing with anger for a few scant moments before breathing a smirk replaced her frown, standing proudly and hiding the shivering pulses travelling through her doughy soft thighs. 

“Good, you’ve had your turn to try and make me falter, and you’ve failed…miserably at that, too. I hope you savored the tiny moment of control I graciously gave you, now you’ll be facing the skills of a master of the tantric arts. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be praying to my Gods to relieve you from the torture of having that disgustingly fat cock drained endlessly by my hand. Now lie down already and flip that hourglass…I’m going to make sure you never forget the next hour.” She cockily asserted, hip cocked to the side and one hand clutching at the end of her opponent’s colossal cock-crown, somehow keeping her unflinching smile as her heart trembled with the hidden uncertainty bleeding through her every word. 

As for Geoff? He smiled and followed her orders to the letter, flipping the hourglass and flopping down on the mattress with a heavy WHUMP, The meaty, blood-red tip of his oversized cockslab pointed up into the air like the precipice of the Kanchenjuga. Trembling insistently with his balls shifting and roiling with the massive bounty of seed bubbling away inside of them, and a gulp pushed through Chanda’s throat as she slowly approached with the sound of shifting sand from the hourglass filling the room…

“FUCK! By the Gods…why is this cock so uselessly HUGE?” The woman screeched to the heavens, a pervading feeling of absolute FULLNESS permeating her very being as the full mast of Geoffrey’s burly cut of oversized breeder-meat slid into her twat and finally, after what felt like ages of sinking herself upon the fattest cock she had ever seen, bottomed out within her depths as the base of his ballsack smushed into the puffy front lips of her pussy.

Nearly fifteen minutes into her turn and Chanda’s tune had taken a turn so massive that she might as well have gone from performing a classic piano ballad to rocking out on the electric guitar like she was born a good three hundred years later than she was. She was almost thankful for how she’d decided to ride atop his meaty cock-lance from behind, distinctly aware that Geoff’s face had taken on that distinctive smugness only he could embody as he barely spoke a word beyond firm grunts of approval as the super-sized shelf of bubbly brown bootymeat she had bouncing from her rear shook in the air with each titanic inch of horse hung English dick gulped bit by bit between her puffy pussylips.

“I could ask why your ass is just the same…must admit, they don’t make girls like this back where I come from…you’re something quite special. Most don’t get more than halfway before they turn downright daft getting their twats broken in, that’s pretty impressive…still, not coming anywhere close to what you promised darling.” He grunted up at her, holding back the urge to reach out and palm the plentiful spheres of smackable assmeat grinding into the slopes of his rigid abs.

Chanda’s legs were outstretched in an amazing feat of athleticism, squatting down onto what had to be over 18 inches of pure iron-hard cock, a low, meaty thud of wet, slippery ᴛʜᴡᴀᴘᴛʜᴡᴀᴘᴛʜᴡᴀᴘ~ noises that heralded the slow pumps of her hips as she scrubbed her juicy fuck-folds along his shaft, dragging herself up as high as she could and wincing at every ridge and vein pulsing through her insides. It was just SO FUCKING THICK, the task of riding this colossal cockshaft to completion within just forty minutes felt like it might as well have been a divine trial of her worthiness of her caste, each inch a new burden that slowly grew less difficult to climb and left a gaping emptiness in her core before she BACKED UP AND PARKED HER TREMENDOUS TWERK-SPHERES DOWN ON EVERY INCH WITH A LOUD, MIGHTY “PHWAAAAAPPPPPP~!”

Geoff didn’t speak, an idle grunt managed its way past his lips, and he bucked his hips back into her without meaning to. Whether he liked it or not, there was a crack in his frame, a meager moment were the tremendous tightness clutched around his beefy white bulldick and the squishy softness of Chanda’s enormous brown bubble butt clapped back into his ass put him on the backfoot…and that was all she needed to find the strength roaring within herself to really push herself into overdrive.

Geoff went from a mere stony-faced uncertainty to hissing through his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut as a sudden, frenzied rhythm of “THWOPTHWOPTHWOPTHWOP~!” bounced off the fabric of the tent and threatened to awaken the entire traveling battalion of men. Each thick vein rubbed along the inner ridges of her squishy slut-slit, the sides of her clapping ass dimpled and ablur as they parted with each bounce of her hips and crashed into one another within a fraction of a second, her back arched back as she leaned forward as far as she could and balanced her palms on the grassy plains beneath her to buck about like a wild horse being ridden by a passionate rider eager to tame and take control of it.

“Jesus! You sure you’re supposed to be a priestess? Cause you move like a right little whore…and I’m not complaining for a second!” Geoff laughed up to her, his massive, heavy hand rising up from beneath his head and cracked it down into one of those big brown smackmeat spheres, a noisy, nasty “SQLRCH!” erupting from her phat caramel cunt at the sudden impact, a clench in the core of her pussy that constricted every inch of that swollen shaft and stroked across it like it was milking him dry right as it broke into her womb and rattled across her very soul with the shudders of a climax shaking through her body.

“UNGHHHHHHHHHH! FUCKFUCKFUCKKKKKKKK!!! WHY WON’T YOU JUST…CUMMMMMM~♥️♥️!!!” She squealed out, exasperated and high-pitched with her every word as they died off in her throat. The squeezing tightness of her pussy turned to a powerful, clamping suction that rivalled the strength of a hydraulic press as her slippery pusywalls slid along the very head of his mighty manhood, squirting all over him and splattering his abs in a swamp of sticky, fruity femcum right as her hips SLAMMED back down and engulfed every inch of him to ride out her orgasm with her fat fuck-handle cheeks rolling about in circles on his groin and tried her very best to fuck him into spewing the gurgling load brimming in those balls.

And to her credit, was a goal she did indeed come very close to, a guttural groan roaring out from the man’s lungs as he clutched his steely fingers into her cheeks and ground his cock into her pussy with every ounce of strength he could muster. Twitching on the brink of eruption as her pussy squelched around him in a rhythm of pulsating contractions that slowly levelled out just short of coaxing out the deluge of virile white semen Geoff had to offer.

“You…you’re breaking the rules.” She whimpered, her voice like the creak of a weary door, stopped immediately by the forceful WHAP~ of his hand smacking into Chanda’s cheeks yet again.

“Please, you have…ten minutes left at this point, and we both know all you care about is getting me to stuff you full of as much cum as that pussy can handle. What’s the harm in me helping you find your rhythm? Your hips look like they’re about to give out anyway…disappointing for a ‘master of the karma sutras’...maybe you’d do better if that body of yours could keep up, huh? Grow a couple of extra arms and use that ‘divine strength’ you’ve been boasting about to show me what you’ve got to be so proud of...unless you can’t do that? Perhaps all that talk was just that…talk.” Geoff spat back to her, forgoing any attempts to even appear as though he cared for the rules of this game beyond whatever could guarantee him as much pleasure as he stood to gain.

He fondled, smacked and dribbled her cheeks around while she huffed away and groaned into the air. Even now, he saw it fit to humiliate her even when she was meant to be in control, and here she was…failing to take it back from him, to give him even a fraction of the sense of embarrassment and submission before his enormous pillar of powerful white GODHOOD with which he’d subjugated so many other women. What use was her pride if it couldn’t even do so much as beat back against such a force of destruction with an equal measure of power that could finally stand against him for once.

No words would suffice to keep this unruly white bastard in check against his base urges to conquer and degrade and propagate his superior stud-genes however he could. All she had to rely on with the next five minutes were action, and as she breathed in deeply and found the power within herself to close her eyes and sink into a deep, meditative state. 

Her black hair lengthened and spread, growing into a voluminous mane of thick, silky hair that fell down upon the swells of her rapidly enlarging asscheeks as they grew from their immense brown bootyshelf to a wobbly purple ocean of fuckable rear flesh, two pairs of arms slowly emerging from the sides of her body while her height grew by nearly a full foot. Geoff gulped, sparing a tiny look to the hourglass nearly spent of its sand on the shelf, grabbing onto either one of her immense wobble-spheres for life itself, meanwhile Chanda found it in herself to finally toss her head back to him with a cocky smirk of her own before LEVERAGING HERSELF UP WITH EVERY OUNCE OF STRENGTH IN HER ENHANCED LIMPS AND SHAKE IT BACK ONTO THAT ENORMOUS ENGLISH COCK-POLE LIKE A TRAINED STRIPPER-SLUT IN HEAT!

It was a matter of MOMENTS before Geoff’s titanic, turgid cunt-wrecker viciously, violently TREMORED WITH UNTOLD EXPLOSIVE POWER BRIMMING WITHIN IT, MILKED OUT HARDER AND HARDER WITH EACH JUICY “PHWAPPHWAPHWAPHWAPPPPPPP~!!!” THAT THUDDED ACROSS THE MOONLIT MOUNTAINS AS HE PUMPED HIS HIPS BACK WITH PURE, BESTIAL ANIMAL INSTINCT!

It took mere minutes for the raucous symphony of awesomely fat, clapping purple smack-spheres to finally work his cock into a frenzied volcanic eruption, her pussy clasped TIGHT as she didn’t cease her bouncing waves of rippling bootymeat for a second. A guttural roar of pleasure beaming through his lips as his back arched upwards and his cockhead smooched the ring of the woman’s womb and finally, his giant balls tightened and the head of his burly shaft swelled to the size of a fist, piss-slit distending to the size of an eyeball as the bottom of his cock bloated with the thick cumvein drawn across it and soon BUSTED WITH A HEAVY, SLOSHING OVERFLOW OF IVORY BULL-NUT PUMPING UP INTO HER WOMB WITH THE PRESSURIZED FORCE OF A FIREHOSE BURSTING OPEN!

Veritable gallons were dragged from the depths of the man’s nuts as he sank into the mattress beneath him. Endless pulses of boiling hot, nutty ball-cream splattering free into Chanda’s guts with a force that very well could’ve damaged a normal woman’s organs. Pissing giant beams of jizz into her as far as they could go, her hips not ceasing for the slightest second as she had her pussy absolutely POWER-WASHED TO A CUMSTUFFED PULP AS GEOFF GRIPPED ONTO HER ENORMOUS ASS-SPHERES FOR DEAR LIFE!

Many more minutes had passed with the sand settled at the bottom portion of the hourglass as Chanda rode along Geoff’s gigantic cock the entire time, their grunts mingling together as her fierce groans bore not just the defeated sound of tingling pleasure blazing through her every cell and making her squirm in utter submissive bliss, but a ferociously untamed ownership of her and his pleasure that saw her cooing like a sly kitten as she rolled her ass in circles against him to squeeze out the last gooey blurts of sperm-saturated seed forming a tiny swell in her abdomen and backwashing against his balls and sturdy, solid thighs all the while.

“Well…fuck me, you actually did a number on me there lass. Never had any whore squeeze out a load like that from me…” He grunted, stirring his cockhead against the brimming lake of sperm sloshing within her, an idle part of Chanda’s mind recognizing that she could very well be carrying the bounty of this barbarian’s child within her body after being the recipient of such a powerful cumwad splattered inside of her with such little restraint…yet strangely, that thought didn’t seem to disturb her much as she smiled at Geoff’s admission and winked back at him. 

Yet, as she readied herself to step up to her feet and revel in her victory (and what had to be the most powerful, thunderous climax of her earthly life), a powerful flex from the rigid cockpillar stuffed to its base inside of her drew her attention, stopping any illusions that she was anywhere close to breaking the man beneath her. A shared purpose of utterly defiling one another until they had heard the words of submission pour forth from each other’s mouths apparent in their eyes as they looked into one another’s faces with a stony look of determination ever so slightly marred by the beginnings of an excitable smirk right where the corners of their lips ended.

—

Hour by hour, the two threw more and more of their rules to the wayside as what began as a challenge became little more than a naked excuse giving way to a primal purpose to buck and breed with the ferocious carnal instinct that lied long dormant within them. There was no man who could properly control and pin down the curvaceous figure of her divinely transformed body like he did, whose powerful prick would pierce through the inner corners of her creamy cunt and drive her as mad as he did with each load of pulsing, pussy-stuffing jizz he had to give, and neither could any woman match against his infernal, womb-conquering rutting power as she did.

They would forget to turn the hourglass for hours as he clopped his sturdy abs off the sloshing, round rear swells of her massive ass until he eventually slid the shaft of burly white breedermeat down between those cheeks and splattered her from behind with a chunky deluge of tar-like ball-cream every bit as needlessly excessive as his next powerful payload of cum…and the next after that which jammed down her throat and nearly threatened to choke her with the gut-stuffing pulses of ball-juice shot into her oral cavity.

 And the next which stuffed her pussy while she rode him from the front this time and nearly suffocated him between her pillowy purple tits, and the next one, and the next one, anddddd the next one…until finally the chirping noises of crickets abated and were replaced by the croaks of awakening life from the local wildlife gathered about the landscape.

Though none of the noises of the wilderness could even begin to enshroud the wet, echoing noise of lustful licks and slurps that boomed out from Geoff’s tent, the silhouettes of his hulking frame as he lied on the ruined remains of the mattress that had witnessed the legendary fuck-frenzy of the two crazed pleasure-seekers, and her feminine figure, with a distinct pair of chunky, head-engulfing fuckmeat cheeks jiggling atop her juicy thighs while her head rubbed into the base of his groin.

“...Look’s like morning’s come, eh? Think you’re tapped out now, then? Or are you already tapped out then?” Geoff winked, flexing his cock on Chanda’s tongue as she gave him back a glassy, rapturous stare in return. Out of the corner of her eye, she viewed the long discarded blade she’d brought with her what felt like days ago, a dim thought whizzing past her cock-addled mind of how easy it would be to grab the weapon and drive it through his heart as he was lost in the pleasure of her juicy lips lapping at his hefty nuts like they were pods of godly ambrosia themselves.

Geoff hissed a bit with a light pinch of pain, looking down to find the woman nuzzling her face into the side of his cock, slurping wetly against its ivory ridges and leaving a hot purple hickey on its surface, her face a mess of dried flecks of cum, sweat and the condensated steam wafting off the white bull’s balls as she lathered them lovingly with her thick, puffy lips.

“SCHLRRRRRKKKKKCHHH…Tapped out? Far from it, barbarian scum…this thick, meaty white cock of yours will fall to me yet. But until then…you will stay away from my home in your march, and I…will continue to best you as I have tonight until you finally withdraw…” She firmly spoke, toying with the spongy head of that burly white cock and rolling her tongue against the juicy helmet before she began to tighten her lips onto his frenulum and bob down across his every vein-riddled inch.

“Well…you make a good fucking point with that, don’t you? With those kinds of negotiation skills…I suppose I could change my route…make no mistake though, we will still make this land ours. And the whole time, while we’re plundering and pillaging your people, you’ll be here…milking this cock every night when I’m done taking from your rulers to give to mine. You still think you’re gonna be able to ‘challenge’ me knowing that?” He questioned her, cocking an eyebrow with a stern, serious look, a conviction in his voice that spoke to the purpose and truth leaking through every word he let out, a steeliness bleeding through his eyes that he expected to be met with a sudden attack from the woman between his legs…only to gasp and groan as her eyebrows rose and shot him a smoky look, sinking her head down with a nasty GLRK~! Splattering throat juices across his cock while her gullet gripped down on him like a snake gulping down its prey.

And Geoff, the barrel-chested tank of a man he was, gave a gruff laugh and whistled idly as his fingers matted her hair down and traced over Chanda’s skull, dreams of his new conquest flourishing in his mind as the very image of this nation’s defiant spirit slavishly worshipped his member with all the greedy fervor she could muster…