The Harpy Matriarch (bonus) [VAULT]

 “The question is, how to properly humiliate something as insolent as you…?”

Reina felt a tremble. She first feared it was herself that shook, that her composure had melted away completely, but it was the ground beneath her that quaked. She heard fissuring from below, then the shaking intensified, forcing her even lower than her knees. Suddenly, she was airborne, rocketing upward along with the spire. Atilda had torn it from the canyon floor, claiming it as her own possession. Even less than before did Reina have any hope of escaping.

The stone was risen so that Atilda could hunch forward and examine her target closely. Reina attempted to stand, to size up her opponent as well, but Atilda would twist the stone spontaneously, a movement that rocked Reina off her balance. The lone green eye that Reina had vision of was swelling with glee, unabashedly entertained by the way she stumbled back and forth.

Replacing Atilda’s eye was then a mouth, her lips separated in a breezy chuckle that blew over Reina. A devilish tongue polished the lips before opening wider into a teeth-bearing smile. Their sharpness sent shivers down Reina’s spine, who had to recall that several men faced their demise there, in the maw of this merciless creature.

“Eating you would be so easy,” Atilda murmured. “Too easy, I think. Boring. No, I want to see your face burned with defeat afterwards. Such a cute glare you have~” Her breaths were noticeably warmer, as though summer had rolled in where Reina was stranded. While Atilda thought to herself, she swayed left and right, a swiveling motion that was dizzying her tiny captive.

“Cease at once!” Reina yelled, stabilizing herself against the idle back-and-forth movement. “Cease this, and fight me! We are both hunters, we both have honor to fight for!”

“Mmm, that spirit of yours…” Atilda’s voice was low, almost quiet if it weren’t for her gigantic size. Her smile wasn’t so open, but it persisted, “Perhaps I should show you what honor a harpy has.”

Suddenly, Reina was plummeting. The ground was leaving her feet where they once stood, slowly slipping away into a fall -- the rock was being lowered, but a second later, it stopped again. Reina returned to the ground with a graceless thump, quickly rolling back over so that she could get up, but a sight was there to greet her. Where she was once stared back at by Atilda’s face, there was now the black color of the matriarch’s harness, the shimmer of rubies and sapphires situated between walls of thighs; it was Atilda’s crotch where she now held the spire and its lonely occupant.

“This is where the honor of harpies is,” Atilda explained, her tone having dulled away from its usual sharpness. “We keep the brood alive. We keep our territory well populated. We live freely, wildly, for our own enjoyment. You humans don’t ever understand. Too weak. That’s why I love fighters like yourself~ That spirit and strength make for such fun pets! And you, especially…” The matriarch inhaled, a deep breath through her nostrils. “You’re very strong, aren’t you?”

Reina had no response to the weird compliment. Words failed her as she gazed into the harness and the slight spill of skin on either side of it. She backed away, but the spire had only so much room, as well as being completely in Atilda’s talon. There was nowhere else to look, not even a distraction. The unfathomable possibility had to be considered, that the giant harpy before her was growing aroused.

The edge of Atilda’s wings sank into the waist of her harness. In a slow push, the bottom of her outfit slid down her legs, only so far that her pussy was unveiled for Reina to see. The exposed crotch of the beast was now fully revealed as a mangle of purple hair, damp by the increasing wetness that had been sealed within. With the sight came its scent, a musk that joined the high altitude winds in swirling around Reina. Disgust struck her immediately, yet the warmth was enticing and tingling, slowly thawing her initially cold reaction.

“If you enjoy challenges, then you can first start by surviving this,” Atilda laughed. Although too low for Reina to see, there was a bright blush on the matriarch’s cheeks. “If you don’t, then know that your legacy as a hunter was being crushed inside a harpy’s cunt~”

There could be no more insults to delay the contact Atilda now craved. Harshly, she brought the spire’s tip directly to her vagina, the peak swallowed inside a forest of curled hair. The speed at which it was moved was too much for Reina, who was thrown into a bunkered position. She caught only a glance of the incoming wall of purple pubes before it became her world. Light hardly made it into this unthinkable setting, not while the spire was still pressed into her crotch, and so Reina was blind with the knowledge that the smell of sweat and the brush of hair overwhelming her was the unkempt nethers of a monster.

It remained there for a drawn out moment, but it was not idle. Atilda grinded the jet of stone against her, like scratching an itch using a chunk of terrain. The motion teased herself, tickling even more desires to become unbound, but a distinct touch would unlock more than she imagined. She first giggled, then bit her lip in embarrassed restraint -- a squirm, just barely any motion at all, resisted the burden of her immense trap. Reina, true to Atilda’s expectations, was still fighting with all her strength, vainly pushing back against the wall of flesh.

It was a total contrast to Atilda’s playfulness. Within the swamp of pubic hair, Reina was suffocating; if she could breathe at all past the sweat and hair, she was inhaling that scent again, which only dried her throat more. As if two planets had collided, Reina was caught between the rugged stone of the spire, and the hot flesh of Atilda’s crotch.

There was finally a break, a window of relief where the spire was withdrawn. So quickly was it moved that Reina once again fell back on top of it, nearly left behind in a knot of hair. She gagged, the relatively fresh air not going to waste, but Atilda’s rumbling laughter did not ease her nerves. She swallowed and prepared yet another deep breath, gawking up at the purple bush. Leaked from the mouth hidden within was a droplet, a strand of moisture that broke away from a bundle of hair so that it could rain on the spire. Reina gasped, she covered her face, but the splash of Atilda’s wetness still coated her.

“More… More of that,” Atilda giggled. Reina saw at her flanks how her thighs quivered just slightly, a hint of what was building up. “Keep fighting for your life… just like that. All that desperation is for my amusement. You have to live, little hunter, so that you can keep entertaining me…!” A laugh escaped her, a squawk of arousal that she didn’t apologize for. “I must just sound like a horny beast to you, don’t I? Hoho, I wonder how many years you’ve spent hunting, just so you can be a toy for a harpy to masturbate to!”

Furiously, Atilda put the tall spire to use again, but rather than bring the stone to herself, she crashed it back onto the ground, disregarding the creek it divided. Reina was dropped more fiercely than before by such spontaneous motions, having expected to rise again instead of falling the way she did. Disoriented all over again, Reina saw her surroundings only in a daze, but she stared upward as soon as she could. For a second, the sky was peaceful -- long white clouds, stretches of sunlight -- the image was shattered, invaded by Atilda’s footsteps. She resided over Reina and the spire, a giant talon on either side of the weakened hunter.

Escaping was a daydream with only moments to occupy Reina’s thoughts. Before she could plan to dodge away and scale down the spire, Atilda and her scent were upon her again. A meteor equivalent of ass was rushing down towards her, the thin legs bending backwards so that Atilda could squat exactly over Reina’s location. Her hips eclipsed the sun, casting an ominous shadow just before continuing her descent. With her legs spread so, her lips were naturally pulled open, revealing a chasm of pink past the filter of hair. Appropriately so, the mouth neared Reina with a hunger, eagerly anticipating what it intended to devour.

Without a whisper of a warning, the top half of the stone was swallowed. Atilta crudely sat onto the erected rock, a moan pushed out of her up above in response. She hummed pleasantly, using this first insertion to capture a feeling of the spire itself. Its presence, after all, was considerably more immediate than whatever resistance Reina put up. Tickled intensely by the spire being inside her, Atilda’s legs tightened around it, her shivering talons carelessly snapping down trees and digging away at the canyon floor.

As Atilda’s arousal was on the up, Reina’s situation grew more abysmal. An unbearable heat enveloped her within this realm, the confines of a harpy’s cunt. Her screamed arguments could never possibly break past the vaginal walls, not loud enough to even surpass the crumbling of stone. So tight was the hole that it constricted harshly around the spire, an incredible pressure applied to the rock from every side. Atop its peak, Reina lay on her back; above her was the groan of Atilda’s insides, shifting still to compensate for the spire’s girth. Surrounding her was an intense humidity, a temperature that steamed the very life out of her.

Gradually, the platform began to leave its cave. Atilda cautiously lifted her squat off the spire, but she wouldn’t abandon it yet. Her underside hovered over the spire, her body briefly spasming after the object had escaped her. Atilda was only beginning, but Reina was on the verge of unconsciousness. The valley air chilled her drenched body, wishing her to succumb to this torment, but she would not forfeit. Although splayed out in a pathetic display, her twitches grew into shaky movements, a futile attempt to crawl away.

Atilda glanced down and greatly enjoyed what she saw. Her arousal spiked again, and with only a cackle as a hint, she threw herself down onto the spire once more. Faster than before, the stone entered her, and so too was Reina plunged into Atilda’s depths. It was inserted as far as before, where from there, Atilda entered a rise-and-fall motion that rattled not just the spire, but the valley around her. Each drop of her weight quaked the earth, a rumble that shook the leaves off trees and put a shake into otherwise still stones. At the center of this ritual, Reina yet existed, enduring the brunt of Atilda’s sexuality. Years of violent battles couldn’t compare to the pain she suffered, of a giantess’s weight ceaselessly falling on top of her. The outside world and its experiences felt so far to Reina, as though the matriarch’s cunt was a portal to some horrifying fantasy.

The rhythm of Atilda’s fun boomed throughout the valley, and it wasn’t long before many of her children showed great interest in the erotic display. Reina’s mercenaries had been subdued, and so the harpies had little more to do than witness the sexual power of their mother. Intimidating and breathtaking, the scene had made an audience out of a swarm, with sisters swirling around their towering matriarch on the hunt for better angles. Indeed, the lust had reached them, and several harpies were particularly intrigued.

As though hypnotized, several of the harpies flew close to Atilda, whom herself hadn’t paid any mind to what her children were doing. She would have continued ignoring them as usual, had it not been for them touching her. At first, it was a grope along the side of her thigh; one harpy nuzzled against the fat of her leg, a feathery touch that tickled the sensitive skin.  A passable offense, but then one was at her ear, perched within it and licking the lobe.

“Enough,” she growled, a fair warning that wasn’t enough to quench the harpies’ cravings. Still more were flocking to parts of her giant shape, such as some embracing her talons, and a group that grazed her stomach and listened to it closely. More annoying, however, was the attention her bust received, an appealing feature for how it bounced to her movements and breathing. It made for a pleasant perch, a number of harpies grinding against the rotund slopes and massaging her nipples through the harness.

“I said enough! You brats!” Atilda complained, her short patience broken. With a wing, she swatted away those that had hugged her breasts, dismissing them into a scatter of flapping wings. Yet immediately after that did she feel more random touches, this time from harpies located at her ass. She growled again, maneuvering her hips to push them aside without having to sacrifice her own position. This had little effect, and they flew back immediately, insisting they stay to kiss and worship her rear mid-flight.

Out of frustration, Atilda swiftly addressed the problem in her usual cruel way. Deciding that one hip-slam was enough of a warning, the matriarch suddenly began falling backwards. She would pause her arrangement with Reina only so that she could sit down, and in doing so, a swathe of her own kind had been caught under her. The speed and width of her ass was too much for the winged-beasts to avoid, and so the pillowy wall pinned them in its descent. A wooded cliffside would be where they were flattened, the entire area crumbled into a crater.

In this new laid back position, Atilda had less to worry about when it came to her hypnotized children. Her claw reclaimed the spire, lifting it once more into the air with Reina glued to its top. The harpy examined it from afar, twisting and tilting the rock to notice how it had become polished inside her, its roughest edges worn down. If her body was doing that to stone, she comically wondered what it was doing to the meek human.

But idle imagining wasn’t getting her off like she desired. With the spire in her talon, she aimed it again for her hole, which itself was being revealed even more. The harpies that circled their mother had followed her to her seat and were back to their mischief, which included a sizable group actively working to remove the thong-like harness completely. Several pairs worked together to tug at the gem-studded article, crazed to satisfy their thirst. As more of her legs were revealed, some flew to the exposed softness, while others crept into Atilda’s pubic hair. A duo was particularly interested in the erect clitoris they discovered, perching at its flanks and licking at it with great fervor. So little that they were, their matriarch paid meager attention to them, continuing with her own plans while occasionally slapping away an overly eager minion.

A path was demanded to be cleared when Atilda carried the spire to her loins again, an initially slow entrance so that she could fit the object inside her. Harpies flocked away and surrounded the spire, providing Reina a passing choir of bubbly laughter and hungry whines. Reina, unable to move from how thick the fluid was over her, could only look ahead at the hair-covered pussy, its cave widening once again.

“Better… Oooh,” Atilda moaned, her cocky smile only now trembling into an anxious ambivalence. She wanted it deeper, and so she pushed harder on the stone, each thrust earning her valuable depth. Her pace was increasing, totally disregarding how chips of the stone cracked away from the pressure applied to it. Occupying all of her thoughts was Reina, the brave adventurer whose renown did nothing to prevent herself from being a speck atop a tower-sized dildo. More than once before had she squashed a quality warrior, but never one like Reina, so bold that she would stand her ground against a supersized matriarch -- even now, she was fighting on, despite the literal world being shaped against her.

The harpy swarm still joined this festivity, their erratic energy fueled by the hormones their giant mother produced. Women would pair up and perch somewhere along Atilda’s body, using the vibration of her chills for their own enjoyment with one another. It was an orgy of feathers, with partners connecting seemingly at random and then flocking to any place deemed both safe and exciting enough. Atilda continued without concern for them, which often resulted in a harpy being huffed away by a breath, or a pair trapped under her feet. These dangers did not halt their fun for long, as even injured harpies would recover and return for another round, perhaps inspired by their glorious mother and the sexual prowess she displayed.

Quakes riddled the valley. In some distances, mudslides were caused by the continuous rumbling, and wildlife had long since fled their homes from the disaster. Atilda’s body reached volcanic temperatures, her fluttering minions sweltering around the sweat that dripped over her. With her climax in reach, her pace with Reina was kept especially steady, and her moaning became obnoxious and powerful, spitting out insults against human-kind while bragging about her utter superiority. She barked Reina’s name, demanding that she wallow in this humiliation.

Finally, Atilda felt the pressure inside her burst. She choked on her laugh, her body shivering into stiffness. One talon kicked out in excitement, bulldozing the uneven ground. Gradually, the tension was easing away, and her muscles relaxed back into a lazy posture. Legs and wings were spread wide, her whole body circuiting the bliss she induced upon herself, all while the spire remained plunged in her. The monster then grabbed the spire’s bottom and ejected it from her, a notably long string of viscous cum connecting its tip to her.

“Oh? I don’t see her,” Atilda muttered, turning the rock around in her talon. It did appear that Reina had been lost in the steamy chaos, so with the stone decidedly purposeless, her grip clenched until it shattered to pieces. Chunks of rock rained down to the valley floor while she looked around for where the hunter may have been dropped.

“Here, Mother! We’ve found her!” one of the harpies yelled, flying up to the matriarch’s face. Down at Atilda’s crotch, a group of harpies surrounded a patch of purple hair, some in the air and others perched within the bush itself. Atilda’s sharp vision spotted Reina in between them all, and immediately she jittered with a laugh. The proud mercenary captain was knotted in a twist of wet hair, her hands and legs restricted by thick curls that couldn’t be powered out of. Even if that were possible, Reina had virtually no energy left; her life had been drawn out, leaving behind a semi-conscious shell that shivered and twitched under the many eyes of the harpies.

Reinvigorated and content with her work, Atilda stood tall in her valley, giggling over Reina’s binds. She would order her children to remove her from there, to then strip her of all her clothes and gear. As thrilling as it was to dominate a warrior like Reina, there was a figure in mind with the fame and beauty that begged to be disgraced. That countess had always been a trouble to her race as well as many others, and still on the high of how she countered this most recent offense, Atilda dreamed of what she might do to such a noble.