The Gift of Girls; Part Two

Her son had been warchief of their mighty ship. Lizindri had thought that she had had it all. Through the vigor, prowess and success of her sons, grandsons, and greatgrandsons many times over, Lizindri had risen to become Chief Matricon of the ship with all of the power, wealth, privileges, that came with it. The Kroxaa noblewoman relished sleeping on top of the top pile with the premier choice in mates and meals. She would delight in examining the loot and booty that her children’s warbands would bring back from their hunts. Lizindri had taken pride in the idea that she was the first Kroxaa woman to taste Lalago flesh and it was her enjoyment in the creatures’ succulent meat that led her son to order the ship expanded to accommodate their new bunny ranch just as it had been Lizindri’s love of Taelothrian silk that had led their wargator to hunting in this quadrant of space to increase their stock of the arachnoid prey creatures and their beautiful weaving skills. For the love of their mother and sisters, a Kroxaa warrior will do nearly anything. The overt displays of valor which boost their standing when the females choose their morning mates.

The day her ship was attacked by the humans had started fairly typically. Lizindri had been half-aware that the males had risen and left the sleeping pile to gather their morning offerings. Being on the top of the sleeping pile, Lizindri slinked down off of her sisters who themselves were sleeping on top of the bodies of their handmaids. The males waited as the females disentangled themselves from their sleeping pile and examined what the Sons of Kruxmaw had brought for the most senior clutch of females. Lesser clutches might be satisfied with dead or replicated offering, but anyone who did not bring a living, thinking, breathing animal for the Chief Matricon and her relatives would find themselves savagely mauled by the larger, stronger, females who had risen to the top of the Kroxaa social ladder by virtue of having the strongest sons.

The men watched as Lizindri and the rest of the women laid their eggs before all of them prayed to Kruxmaw that he might bless the eggs with souls before the clutch Matricon made her first selection of the day.

Lizindri had felt particularly hungry and taken two offerings for herself. One handsome young man who had brought her three Lalagos that he held squirming by their ears. The other man was on the older side but had brought an entire Knavar that looked like it had been **** fed high fructose syrup to make its muscles extra tender. Lizindri had been as satisfied with the meal as she was with the men she shared it with.

After the men had departed for their duties, Lizindri’s handmaids adorned and dressed their mistress. Lizindri insisted on having no less than five lower class females waiting on her at all times. Lizindri had been relaxing in the clan solarium listening to music while her handmaids sharpened her talons, oiled her scales, and picked her teeth clean as the highest status female on board the mighty wargator watched two males fighting for her affections when the general quarters alarm was sounded. “Go forth and kill for Kruxmaw’s glory.” Lizindri had told the two men as the Chief Matricon and her attendants calmly made their way to their emergency shelter. The most highest status women of the ship were guarded by a half dozen of the most elite warriors abroad the wargator. Cybernetic giants who were more machine than flesh and would gladly die protecting the wargator’s noble ladies.

For the first day inside of the shelter, Lizindri was excited. The woman had been a young girl in her first millennium of life the last time they had had to deal with a boarding party. This had been back before the Annareal had teamed up with the Kalari and brokered The Agreement. The monosex weaklings had sent their machines to do their fighting for them. Lizindri’s many Kroxaa died in the battle, but that was what battle was for. After the machines had been smashed and the prey had been chased down, Lizindri’s father and brothers had used the scrap from that battle to modify their shoulder cannons and leg effectors. Lizindri had imagined that this battle would be much like that one. The foolhardy prey would find itself overwhelmed by the ferocity, cunning, and all around brutal hardness of Kruxmaw’s chosen, the apex predators of the cosmos.

The second day inside of the shelter, Lizindri had gotten bored. She and the other noble ladies were following the updates of the battle and it surprised her to learn that the invaders were proving themselves to be a tenacious foe. They attacked with a combination of feral beasts co-ordinated by machines that were deploying some sort of bio-weapon. The shelter pod had gone into secondary lockdown for fear that the invaders might try to introduce their toxin into the noble ladies shelter. Though their hallucinogenic agent did seem to temporarily disable those who were exposed to it, Lizindri had never heard of a venom, toxin, parasite, or disease that could overwhelm the immune system of a Kroxaa. Their bodies were made to overcome all other life forms, that included microorganisms. Lizindri knew that once they recovered from the initial infection, the warriors would rip the invaders to pieces.

The third day in the shelter was when the panic started setting in. Whole sections of the ship had fallen under the control of the invaders. Strange and confusing reports were coming in of Kroxaa fighting Kroxaa! Not just scrapping for attention or feuding over a food scrap. Some of the warriors were actively helping the alien machines to bypass security encryptions. Override safety systems in the life support nodes. And even go as far as to disconnect the engine controls from the bridge. As the number of food beasts began to dwindle, Lizindri began to wonder how Kruxmaw’s will would manifest and what kind of glorious deeds would have to be performed to put the invaders in their proper place.

The fourth day under siege was when Lizindri lost contact with the war chief. Lizindri’s strongest and cunningist son had been keeping his mother up to date with all of the details of his battle, regularly incorporating his mother’s suggestions into the co-ordinated battle plan. “They have control of the hangar decks. The voidsmen on the hull are reporting that a large ship has dropped out of hyperspace and has launched **** boats. We will cut them off and paint the decks with their blood for Kruxmaw’s glory!” The war chief had said in his last transmission.

The fifth day was the day that they came for her. Through their limited access to the ship’s data streams, the noble women had learned that the overwhelming majority of the ship’s crew had sided with the invaders. To Lizindri’s horror, she has her own sons ordering the warriors to surrender and accept their calling as warriors for ‘The Master Race.’ “Mom, open the door.” The warchief pleaded. “I know it sounds scary, but for your own good. You need to take your NOXET. It is the most amazing feeling in the world. I see things so clearly now. Kruxmaw does not want us to just be killers. We are killers with a purpose. Serving mankind is the greatest reward Kruxmaw could bestow upon us. After millenia of faithful worship and dutiful slaughter. The Cosmic Alpha has rewarded us with belonging and true connection. For your own sake Mom, open the door. Do not drag this out.”

“You traitorous little shit!” said Lizindri to the war chief before she ended the communication.

A few minutes later, Lizindri heard the sounds of plasma casters and effector fields on the other side of the armored door. The guards stayed true to their duty and pushed back the invaders three times. In their first wave, the invaders sent the Kroxaa to overwhelm the Kroxaa. The entrenched elites would not be moved. In their second attempt, the invaders sent their feline **** and machine soldiers who became bogged down. Then the humans themselves came. Clad as they were in form-fitting ostentatious partially form fitting suits with garish colors. When they moved, they became blurs. Their novamatter blades tore apart whatever defense fields and armor the Kroxaa elites possessed. The ladies all screamed as the tip of a burning spear punched through the armored door of their security shelter. The women prepared for battle. Kroxaa women do not seek battle the way that their men do, this gives many outsiders the impression that Kroxaa females are less ferocious than male counterparts. Nothing could be further from the truth. Kroxaa men fight because Kroxaa women will punish them if they do not. Kroxaa women are taller, stronger, and when roused to **** become much, much more aggressive than the smaller of the two genders. It had been over six thousand years since Lizindri had had a real fight. She had eaten her last Lalago and was looking forward to tasting some blood. Instead of battle, the invaders stuck a nozzle in the hole they made and pumped the room full of gas.

***

“Master, your humble **** presents his mother, Lizindri, our Chief Matricon.” the Kroxaa warchief said as he the woman who gave him birth got down on their humanized knees with their legs spread before James Fujiwara.

For Lizindri, life since NOXET had been like a dream. She only vaguely remembered being **** to march down the halls and corridors of her ship as the world seemed to bend and twist. She felt herself become lost when out of the swirling darkness Krukmaw appeared to her. For the first time in her life, the twelve times over great grandmother felt truly connected to her God. After a whole life of belief, Lizindri was truly touched by Divinity. Her lord wrote his words on her heart and those words told her that she had been sold. Kruxmaw, the apex predator in whose image the Kroxaa had been made, had forsaken her. Lizindri had trouble getting all of the fine details, but as the machine warriors pushed her into the geneforge, Lizindri understood that Kruxmaw was no longer her God. The Kroxaa woman was aware that her body was to be remade in the image of a race that was worthy of being masters.

When the NOXET shock finally wore off, Lizindri found herself intoxicated from the feeling of being warm blooded. It was like having a mild battle fever all the time. The Kroxaa matricon was brimming with energy and delighted at the strong energized body The Master Race had given her.

Some people thought that when humanized, the Kroxaa and the Dranza are barely distinguishable. In James’s experience only poor people who have never seen a humanized Kroxaa said dumb shit like that. Dranza are essentially dainty young women with green skin and the occasional patch of scales. A Kroxaa’s dermis is covered in a thick armored hide except for their soft, white bellies. And though the males are scaled down to be under six feet, the females retain the appearance of towering statuesque amazons.

As James inspected the Kroxaa woman he was quite amazed. Despite being thousands of years old, this woman looked to be around the same age as his Tigra. But where his senior wife was a dainty flower of grace and femininity, this lizard lady was built like a weight lifting rock climber with muscles on her muscles.

James’s older brother Lucas owned a few Kroxaa females that he liked to use for scrapping. Lucas Fujiwara was famous for his love of wrestling and showcased himself getting in the ring with these exotic amazon xenos who had been commanded to do anything they can to get his seed inside of their wombs before timer went off. When James asked Lucas if he ever threw a fight or if he really was trying the whole time to prevent the xenos from riding his cock, the elder Fujiwara just gave his older brother an obnoxious laugh and told James to “Ask your mother.”

James had not seen the appeal of Kroxaa cunt until now. Looking down at this regal, exquisite, powerful, woman on his knees. A woman that had been captured and domesticated by his ship on his expedition made James want to do things to the Chief Matricon that involved a chocolate pudding pit and a lot of whip cream. “On your feet, slaves.” James commanded. Jangles giggled when she saw the funny face her master made when he realized how tall the Kroxaa woman was. “What do you think, Janglebelle? Will she make a good addition to the harem?”

Jangles sauntered and jived up to and around the Kroxaa woman, licking her a few times in the process. “Oh yes, Daddy. This hunka xeno cunt will look amazing when you put her in chains for the triumph. She is a queen under the Lex, yes?”

“Closer to a grand duchess, but she will be wearing a regal crown for the ceremony,” said James.

“And I will be right beside you?” Jangles asked. “I am not going to be in one of the dancing cages?”

“No darling. This is a triumph, you are my wife, your place is by my side. Same as your mother” James reassured his sweetest of sex slaves. “Just as her place.” James tweeked Lizindri’s erect nipple and smiled at the face the wild caught xeno cunt made. “Is hanging in chains from the front of one of our floats.” James closed his eyes and kissed his Jangles, paying no heed to the moans of pleasure and pain made by Lizindri as James haphazardly tortured the matricon’s tit.

(FYI- I wrote this chapter, it is set in the same universe as this story. Less adventure and more slice of life. https://chyoa.com/chapter/Milo-Pascel%3A-Coming-of-Age-Arisakan-%28A-Homo-Superior-Story%29.1730514 )