Standard Bearer
Standard Bearer
(This story is about a world of my creation, the "Dinotaurs", which (as the name suggests) are taur versions of the dinos we know. I have to develop this world more than what I describe here.
=======================
The squadron marched, somewhat restless as their destination grew nearer with each step. The rhythmic movements of their solidly muscled, four-legged bodies were punctuated by heavy footsteps, along with the clinks of scabbards rasping against armor, and the calm snorts, grunts and bellows of the strong soldiers. A remainder of ancient instincts, the herd moved somewhat noisily, as if announcing their fearful presence to smaller animals and predators alike.
Except for Thoremur. If the styracotaurs had a name for silence, it was probably his. The flag bearer had not spoken a word ever since the squadron had thanked the Dareeva stegotaur clan for their overnight hospitality early that morning. Even if he got little rest himself. Stegotaurs may be a different species, but it did not keep some in his own herd from sharing beds and passions with their hosts. Stegotaur females certainly were not above vocalizing their pleasure loudly.
The only sound that announced his lone march ahead of the herd was the soft flap of the flag fastened to the pole he carried on his muscular right hand. His strong, bulging male chest pulsed with each breath, deep and slow despite the constant march, the air flowing silently through his nostrils. Grass and sand were equally silent under his feet, as if in awe of the imposing presence of the standard bearer.
Thoremur marched and kept pace with the squadron effortlessly, and yet his mind was elsewhere. He did not utter a word as he marched in the middle of the herd and to the left of his commanding officer, Sturrek.
The older, more seasoned warrior knew better than to try to elicit mindless conversation or ask for counsel from the flag bearer. It was in the squadron's best interests, and their lives, to let the flag bearer remain undisturbed for the duration of the march. Chosen because of his excellent diplomatic skills, Thoremur carried more than a flag. On his scaly shoulders and rump rode the success or failure for his squadron. His words would avoid a conflict the styracotaurs knew they could not win, or send them straight into Maia's pastures.
Thoremur had known Sturrek for many seasons, and knew the commander liked nothing more than a fight. Sturrek often recalled with pride how he had defeated one particular ankylotaur commander for the right of passage on a narrow bridge. Or as a low ranked soldier, how he had bested several comrades in simultaneous combat for the right to a cozy, warm pillow bed, and the pleasures that came with it. The memories of that night and the courtesan that shared his bed still stirred lustful memories in him to this day. Sometimes embarrassing, as it sometimes caused Sturrek's dark member to come out of his genital slit and droop between his rear legs.
The flag bearer knew Sturrek would have no qualms if Thoremur kept the squadron from even unsheathing their swords. War was never the preferred outcome, much less against those they would meet any heartbeat now. Anything that helped the entire squadron to return to the company of their mates and offspring was definitely welcome.
An unexpected bray from the flag bearer brought the entire herd of warriors snorted loudly as they came to a sudden and uneasy stop. All the eyes turned to gaze at Thoremur, who walked slowly and firmly a short distance past the herd, followed by Sturrek.
"Thoremur."
Despite his latent fear, the flag bearer could not help feeling his pride swell and his naked chest puff as Sturrek spoke his name solemnly. No one in the clan would dare utter the name without awe. Younglings of both sexes tried to gain his admiration and the chance to be his successor. Females secretly wished to feel his weight on their rumps in mating and his member to fire his seed inside and sire their offspring. Males respected and envied his intellect. Even the herd's alpha pair would bow in respect in those matters where Thoremur reigned supreme.
Some speculated that Thoremur most certainly could get away with bloody murder if it ever became necessary in his plans.
The flag bearer nodded slightly. "Commander?"
Sturrek nodded in return, then turned to gaze to the path ahead. "What does the air tell you?"
"I smell finality, sir," Thoremur announced softly and almost casually.
The effect on his comrades, however, was akin to asking them to prepare themselves for immediate death.
"So we are late."
Thoremur closed his eyes, then opened them slowly. "I am afraid that is so."
Standing downwind, the herd of warriors detected the presence of another group. The pungent smell announced the proximity of a pack of predators before their eyes would reveal the exact position. The hunters made no effort to conceal their presence as they climbed to the top of a small hill. Neither did the herd, facing their opponents on the top of another, nearby hill.
All the styracotaurs bellowed softly, aware any displays of intimidation and aggression would be lost against their opponents. Their hands were drawn to the hilt of their swords, yet every weapon remained sheathed as Sturrek put his right arm high in the air in a gesture of non-aggression.
Thoremur bellowed loudly as he followed his commander by raising the flag of his race as high as he could. His actions were followed by a loud roar, their opponents flag also coming up. The herd had no need to look at the flag; they were fully aware they were facing tyrannotaurs.
Thoremur scanned his opponents' numbers. Slightly less than his own herd, it still gave the carnivores the advantage. Cunning and vicious, tyrannotaurs could frenzy themselves into savage battle. In such mental state, they could continue fighting despite wounds that would cause some other warrior to give up or fall dead. It always claimed a heavy toll on the tyrannotaurs, but their opponents almost always bore the highest cost.
The styracotaur snorted, shifting his weight restlessly to each of his four legs. Sturrek turned to look at Thoremur, but the flag bearer silenced the commander before Sturrek could utter a single noise.
"You have a higher need for your words, sir. Do not waste their power in the obvious."
Thoremur turned to look over his shoulder and back toward the herd in a quick and silent scan, until he stopped at the youngest member of the herd. The young male's body already exhibited all the traits of a styracotaur of breeding age -- strong and muscled, he had surely fought well, and succeeded, for the right to mate. The skin covering the holes in his spiked frill, however, was a shade of crimson lighter than that of more mature males.
Thoremur beckoned him to come closer. "Your name?" he asked after the young soldier stopped and saluted.
"Vrethan, sir," the warrior bellowed strongly.
The flag bearer nodded while staring firmly at the youngling. "You are spared today, Vrethan. Return now to our home, and to your mate and offspring."
Vrethan shifted on his four legs, snorting and braying with anger and confusion. "Why, sir? You do not think I am strong enough to take on a tyrannotaur?"
"I have no doubts you would. But I have a bigger need for you."
Vrethan snorted. "I did not walk all this only to return home to be branded a weakling."
"And you will not be, son. I fear that the rest of us will be meeting with Maia today. So it must be that the youngest among us returns to the Herd, and tell the others to raise their voices for our solemn passage."
"No... no!" the youngling shouted, pointing madly at another warrior behind and to the right of him. "Send Yskann! He is younger than me by a fortnight or so!" He bellowed even loudly as Sturrek turned to stand next to Thoremur. "Sir! Please --"
"Do as Thoremur asks you, Vrethan. The Herd will respect your pain."
The loud roar of the entire tyrannotaur pack echoed in the valley. Thoremur snorted at their restlessness and hunger.
"You have no time," he said. "Gallop now. We will need the Herd's voice if Maia is to grant us safe passage to Her pastures."
Vrethan snorted, still glaring at Thoremur as he bowed to Sturrek, then turned to gallop away as fast as his legs could carry him. Thoremur paused slightly to look at the young male, feeling slightly envious.
"A chance that your name gets some immortality from our Herd, Thoremur?" Sturrek asked, smiling slightly.
"My heart and soul gain no pleasure from knowing the Herd could name this valley as 'Thoremur Stand', sir."
"I cannot think of a better place than this one. There is never a failure against tyrannotaurs, soldier. Only courage when going willingly against impossible odds."
"Foolishness is more like it," Thoremur thought. The flag bearer and diplomat had sensed he would face the hungry predators when he was asked to scout the region, after the first group of five scouts failed to return. His instincts, however, were never placed above duty.
Even less when facing sure death.
Thoremur turned abruptly to face the tyrannotaurs. He raised his flag high again as he began the slow descent down the hill, and toward the valley. The predators had never been keen on diplomacy. If all other dinotaur species agreed on something, it was their derogatory view that a tyrannotaur's brain was only used to keep the body alive, but their thoughts came from somewhere else in their lower bodies -- food and intense sexual couplings were the only things tyrannotaurs seemed to live for. It was highly unusual that so far their pack had resisted the urge to charge against the styracotaurs.
He looked ahead, and noticed a brown and gray tyrannotaur also coming down the hill into the grassy valley. Like Thoremur, he carried a flag, the bearer of his clan's standard. Like all dinotaur species, it was a stylized representation of his own species' head, with emphasis on the dagger-like teeth.
In the world of the Dinotaurs, battles are often waged or cancelled by a crucial meeting of the flag bearers. The armies will gather, and each one will send a lone warrior to the center, where they would meet. Whatever happened next depended on that one encounter. Deals could be established, ransoms would be paid, peace brokered, or war could be declared. Thoremur tried to gain comfort on some unwritten code saying that, in those tense and crucial moments, no flag bearer will kill the other, nor an army would in any way attack the opponent's bearer or his comrades. To break the rule would cast shame and dishonor on the killer's army, and concedes defeat to the offenders.
Thoremur normally had no qualms about his burden. The pachytaurs, stegotaurs and brachiotaurs almost always were open to any deal that would benefit both races. Dealing with the brachios was an exercise in patience, while the stegos were rash and quick to get to the point. And ankylotaurs understood only strength.
He wished it were that simple today.
Thoremur stopped, about twenty body lengths from his opponent, and planted his flag on the ground. His tyrannotaur counterpart walked only a few steps more before doing likewise. Thoremur wished for the winds to shift and blow in a different direction. The stench of death coming from the tyrannotaur flag bearer was amplified by the shorter distance.
The styracotaur planted his rear legs firmly in the ground, spreading them slightly, ready to sprint and charge if needed. "Greetings. I am Thoremur," he said as he opened his arms wide, keeping them away from the sword and dagger strapped to his upper waist. "Standard bearer of the Krevan clan of styracotaurs."
"Se'sha'zar," the tyrannotaur said curtly, his right hand close to his sword hilt while still holding the flag on his left. "T'kala clan of tyrannotaurs."
Thoremur nodded respectfully, although he knew the tyrannotaurs never returned anyone's respect. "We seek the right to the river in this valley. Our clan needs its waters."
"Denied," the tyrannotaur roared. "My clan has already claimed that which you seek. By our might, it is ours and ours alone."
Thoremur wrinkled his nose as the stench of rotten meat wafted to his face. He paused to collect his mind, already aware of the answer to his next inquiry before he spoke it. "We sent several scouts to this area several nights ago. One of them returned with news about the river. He did not report any tyrannotaur claim."
The styracotaur did not flinch as Se'sha'zar growled loudly. "Are you implying that my clan lies?"
Yes, you unwashed bastard, Thoremur wanted to shout back. "Styracotaurs have no intentions to challenge the mighty tyrannotaurs. Our scout returned a fortnight ago, but we have yet to hear from the rest. The stegotaur clan Dareeva says they found one of them north from here, already dead from severe wounds. My clan fears the rest may have been lost."
Thoremur continued as Se'sha'zar eyed him while smiling subtly. "My clan will pay for the return of those who may have survived. Or their remains, if it was Maia's will that they nourished your clan."
"You can have them," Se'sha'zar said, roaring with laughter. "They have already served their purpose."
Thoremur remained stoic as the tyrannotaur propped his body on the ground with his small lower arms, then spread his legs apart and squatted. Se'sha'zar lifted his tail upwards; it twitched a few times before the tyrannotaur defecated one big, smelly pile of dung. "There is bound to be some of what you want in there," Se'sha'zar said, grinning toothily.
Several pieces of skin were still intact. Thoremur even recognized one particular tattooed skin patch; that of Ussegar, one of his own hatching sisters.
"She was a very good lay," the tyrannotaur said. "She never screamed; always strong even when many males in our clan took turns to enjoy her sex and feed her with the male white blood. I was her last; she satisfied me a few times before I took her life during my last mating with her. I was most impressed by her honor, so her death was quick."
Thoremur's face remained unchanged, eyes locked on the tyrannotaur as he muttered a quick prayer to Maia for the safe passage of his sister. He breathed shallow and quick for several moments as he worked to squelch any mental image or thought of tyrannotaurs straddling Ussegar and using her carnally before she was finally given the mercy she never asked for.
"I know what you will ask," Se'sha'zar continued. "Retribution for your clan's loss. Tyrannotaurs give no retribution. Our ways say that anything in our lands is fair game and belongs to us."
Thoremur narrowed his eyes; he found it near impossible not to stare at Se'sha'zar with hatred, lest the carnivore would think of it as a threat. "This is not your land. It was not until your hunting party happened upon our scouts."
Se'sha'zar covered the remaining distance, to stand barely two body lengths away. "Your clan is in our territory now. What should keep us from feeding you to my brethren?" The tyrannotaur grinned toothily. "You particularly look like you would taste nice. A good lay even."
Thoremur snorted softly. He remained mostly still even when his muscles tensed for a quick sprint if he needed so, and his right hand drifted closer to the sword strapped to his upper waist. "It would be a serious breach of protocol. The flag bearer is not to be killed when in his diplomatic function."
"We could care less about your leaf-eating protocols than we do for that pile of shit that was one of your scouts." Se'sha'zar planted his flag firmly on the ground, leaving his arms free for combat. "You will fight me. If you win, we let your clan go. You lose, you die, and your herd is food. Simple."
"That is not acceptable."
"You have not been given a choice."
The tyrannotaur threw the flag away, pulling his sword from its scabbard. With a roar, he launched himself toward Thoremur.
The styracotaur barely reacted in time to avoid the attack from the lurching predator. Unable to unsheathe his own sword in time, he parried with the only object he had in his hands, the pole holding his clan's flag. The thick wood absorbed most of the force of the impact from the tyrannotaur's sword before it split, showering both warriors with splinters.
Se'sha'zar raised his sword for his second attack, but he no longer had the element of surprise. Dropping the remains of the pole and the flag to the ground, Thoremur sidestepped quickly to his left, the tyrannotaur passing just a breath away from him; the tyrannotaur stepped on the styracotaur's flag as he attacked. Thoremur bellowed at the insult and lack of respect toward his flag, both from the tyrannotaur and his own fault. But protocol was not going to save his skin today, nor would he be able to have a lay with it if he survived to live the rest of the day.
Thoremur quickly turned to face Se'sha'zar. The tyrannotaur paused briefly as the styracotaur lowered his head, exposing his spiked frill to his enemy as he pulled his sword. Thoremur snorted and swayed his frill to the sides and back and forth, much like his primitive ancestors would have done when facing a large predator.
The tyrannotaur lowered his head and roared. Thoremur fought hard against his primeval instincts that commanded him to flee. Instead, he kept his ground, still exposing his red frill toward Se'sha'zar. He bobbed his head a few times as he bellowed, challenging his opponent. Se'sha'zar launched himself against Thoremur, who stood his ground, lifting his sword with both hands to block the tyrannotaur's attack.
Thoremur had never fought a tyrannotaur before, and soon he learned how lucky he had been. Swords still on the same position as when they had hit, the tyrannotaur used his strength to push down. Thoremur grunted, his muscles in his arms and chest bulging as he pushed against Se'sha'zar's strength. The styracotaur's legs soon began to buckle, and a slight feeling of panic began to race through his mind and heart.
The tyrannotaur pack growled with glee and encouragement to their champion. Thoremur could not hear his own herd, but knew their hearts were probably sinking at the sight. He gasped and bellowed loudly, gaining enough strength to halt the tyrannotaur's attack momentarily.
"There... is no need for this!" Thoremur grunted. "Let... me discuss what--"
Se'sha'zar growled with slight laughter. "I can sense your fear, morsel. But you are right... there is no need for this. Surrender, and I will make it swift. None of my brothers will humiliate you. Only myself."
"No..." Thoremur said, then again, louder as he felt his legs buckling again under the pressure. "You... will not... take one of my clan... again!"
Thoremur bellowed, and rolled from under the position he had been in for interminable seconds, leaving Se'sha'zar facing nothing but empty air. Se'sha'zar almost faltered on his two legs, but recovered quickly.
Thoremur roared as his most of his weight fell on his front left leg, twisting it. He tried to get back on four legs immediately, but the sprained ankle gave way almost immediately. Rump and tail in the air, he propped his lower torso with his hands and remaining good front leg. He gritted his teeth from the pain.
He heard the tyrannotaur's footsteps as Se'sha'zar charged again for an attack, sword held high and ready to come down on the crippled styracotaur. Thoremur turned his body as fast as he could so that his rump faced the carnivore. The tyrannotaur's sword had already begun its downward stroke when Thoremur was in the position he wanted. Using his full strength, Thoremur launched both rear legs upwards in a powerful kick, hitting Se'sha'zar squarely in the chest. The tyrannotaur growled with pain and anger as he was pushed backwards, then again as Thoremur followed the kick with a powerful slap from his tail. He hobbled toward his enemy before it could recover, and kicked him again. Se'sha'zar growled as he fell face first on the still steaming dung pile he had dropped a few minutes before.
The styracotaur knew the fight was still not over. Worse yet, the other tyrannotaurs were starting to get restless. He would surely have to face them soon, unless he proved his superiority over Se'sha'zar.
Thoremur paused. Only one way.
Braying, he ran toward the fallen tyrannotaur and jumped over him, pinning him to the ground with his full weight. The tyrannotaur's body was twisted at an awkward angle, his lower body lying on his left side, while his upper torso was almost on his back. Pinned, he was unable to move or get some leverage. Thoremur closed his eyes, forcing himself to think of his mate...
Se'sha'zar roared, enraged at the pain. His eyes opened wide as he suddenly felt something hot, hard and moist rubbing against the underside of his tail.
"Nooo!" he roared, then louder. "NOOOO!"
Thoremur grunted, positioning his hard member into the struggling tyrannotaur's tailhole. Then, with a scream and a powerful push of his rear legs, his member battered its way into the tyrannotaur's tight hole.
In the world of the Dinotaurs, domination is a grave shame. Rape is not considered a crime, but rather a show of force, the triumph of the strong over the weak. A male would still attempt to rape anyone he wished to humiliate, no matter the sex or species. Those defeated in such way lost all honor, which could only be regained by avenging the offense or committing suicide, but only if given the chance to do so.
Many warriors would cover their tailholes with strong metal plates, secured in a way that would make it very hard for an opponent to dislodge during combat. Only the strongest -- and perhaps foolish -- warriors would forego the protection, at their own risk. And Thoremur had been quick to notice that Se'sha'zar had been too confident to rely on his tyrannotaur fury.
Se'sha'zar roared with intense pain as Thoremur forcefully pushed his massive girth further inside. He snapped at Thoremur, trying to bite the styracotaur's lower chest, but Thoremur quickly stepped on the tyrannotaur's neck with his front right foot, crushing his jaw.
Thoremur grunted, thrusting ferociously into the tyrannotaur, not caring as Se'sha'zar's tailhole became looser as flesh tore apart, trying to bring himself quickly into a release. He continued pummeling Se'sha'zar, who screamed at the brutal rape. Soon the screams turned into whimpers, then begging, urging Thoremur to stop, to spare from the ultimate humiliation of climaxing inside. But the styracotaur did not concede, almost turning Se'sha'zar inside out as he pulled his member partially out with each thrust, only to push it back in harder and harder. Blood rushed into his ears and brain as he continued raping the tyrannotaur, not caring for one instant about the injuries he surely would cause to his victim.
Thoremur finally climaxed, and he bellowed loudly as he shot his hot seed deep into the tyrannotaur's bowels. For a full minute he pumped away every drop of his load, and even some he didn't knew he had, into the body of his opponent while he continued thrusting into the tyrannotaur's battered hole. Se'sha'zar had stopped struggling upon feeling the cum shooting inside him, his rape and humiliation now complete.
Thoremur panted, his heart raced furiously as he fought to come out of his orgasm, lest the other tyrannotaurs would attack him then. He turned to face the predator's clan, who looked almost motionless at him.
He looked at one tyrannotaur, larger than the rest, undoubtedly the leader of the pack. Thoremur tensed, his half hard cock still deep inside the moaning, defeated warrior.
The large tyrannotaur nodded as he walked slowly toward Thoremur and the fallen Se'sha'zar, and spoke softly with a growl. "Your clan wins. We will allow you to return safely."
Thoremur nodded, snorted softly. Not the deal he was supposed to strike with the tyrannotaurs, but it was better than the alternative. He looked at the fallen body of his opponent, still pressed under his weight and impaled by his semi-hard cock.
"Please," Se'sha'zar pleaded softly as he directed his terrified eyes at Thoremur. "Kill me."
The lead tyrannotaur spoke. "It is not you who will take his life. His will end, indeed. But not after he lives what he has now become."
Se'sha'zar whimpered as Thoremur thrusted five times to punctuate his victory. The styracotaur grunted and pulled out of Se'sha'zar; a large blob of semen was sucked out of the tyrannotaur's tailhole, and more oozed obscenely out of it.
Thoremur looked away as the pack leader mounted Se'sha'zar despite the desperate pleas from the fallen warrior. The styracotaur picked up his clan's flag, and started to hobble back toward his group. He did not turn to look back as the growls of the tyrannotaurs became louder, surrounding their fallen flag bearer. He heard Se'sha'zar pleading to be spared, then a loud grunt from the lead tyrannotaur followed by a roar of pain from the fallen one.
Thoremur was soon among his comrades, who bowed and bellowed softly, happy for his triumphant return. Three other styracotaurs were ready with wood barks and leaves, which they tied promptly around Thoremur's injured leg to immobilize it. The flag bearer lay on the ground, not wincing once from the pain as the soldiers tendered to his leg and cleansed any scrapes or injuries. Thoremur turned to look toward Sturrek, who bowed with respect.
"Looks like you will be able to see the valley named after you," Sturrek said, smiling subtly.
Thoremur didn't acknowledge Sturrek's weak attempt at humor "Not what I wished it would come to, sir."
Sturrek nodded, then glanced quickly to where the tyrannotaur pack brutally raped their fallen comrade. "Better him than all of us, don't you think?"
Thoremur did not respond, and only nodded as he gently rubbed his flag to remove all the dirt he could. He offered a short prayer for Se'sha'zar's soul to quickly return to the soil, hoping the other tyrannotaurs would not take much time to see their fallen comrade as food. The alternative was too horrible to think about.
None of the styracotaurs looked back as several more painful tyrannotaur roars reached their ear holes. They formed themselves behind their flag bearer, and followed proudly as Thoremur led them slowly back toward the warm fires of the stegotaur village.
####
END
©Kaa Bakensobek.