Prefs be here, yo:
Court_Of_Predators
Christine has several stories, written by me here at https://aryion.com/g4/view/313857 .
Name: Don Christine Alessandro Vorascini
Age: 29
Species: Red European Foxtaur, the result of genetic deformity and surgical alteration
Place of Origin: Castel di Tusa, Sicily
Occupation: Mafia Don, Global Criminal Mastermind
“Hush, hush. I know what I'm destroying, and I know what I'm losing. I value you utterly, as a person, as a creature, as a living thing. And I'm going to crush all of that like an orange in a hydraulic press, to extract every last ounce of pleasure from your death.
“I'm going to melt you like butter in a furnace. Like an ice cube on the sun. Like a creamy glob of my cream on my tongue. I won't even leave a bone. I will take you and I will not just make you mine. I will make you my paunch, my rump, my thick hips, my pendulous breasts. My stock of creamy loads, my squelching shaft, my hungry snatch. My muscles which grab and my throat which gulps and my eyes which never stop looking at you. I will not just make you mine, adorato.
”I will make you me.”
In Chicago, a handsome blind eagle sets up a trade in a powerful hallucinogen laced with the bones of crushed angels. “Seraphim” gives you wings, if you have the money for it.
In Bangkok, a quiet-looking shrew will walk into a building without anyone seeing her, and take the soul of one person and tear it to shreds. She speaks only in a whisper, and she’ll kill anyone you want, if you have the money for it.
In Rio de Janiero, a pair of twins, sleek, powerful lions, begin offering a taste of the old world to people who wonder what it was like before people weren’t allowed to eat each other. Any species, any cut. They’ll even bring you your food alive, if you have the money for it.
And if people do have the money for it, then numbers in computers will click around, and the person who makes it all possible will take a look at her web of pleasure and pain, and smile.
Christine Alessandro Vorascini is an urban legend, a criminal kingpin without equal, and a sadistic, passionate predator for whom the entire world would not be enough. She is a towering, obese brute of a hemaphroditic foxtaur (although she considers herself female and won't appreciate being called "shi"), her body strong, powerful, and swathed in almost half a tonne of pudge, each and every curve swelling with the fruit of a lost life. Her voluptuous upper body might be eight foot tall if it had normal legs, but instead it is melded to the form of a quadrupedal fox as big as a draft horse, and she stands more than twelve feet tall. Christine’s taurism is not natural, but the result of intense genetic deformity, a condition which would have killed her a dozen times over in her infancy.
But it did not. For the young Christine was the only daughter of Don Ricardo Vorascini, one of the most powerful crime lords in the Western hemisphere. Millions of dollars, dozens of painful, invasive and often highly dangerous operations, and a vast array of growth-enhancing drugs were required to turn Christine from the twisted cripple she was born as into the sleek, beautiful monstress she is today. It was not a happy childhood, and Christine, precociously intelligent and starved of all intimacy, grew up to be far more a monster than she began. She began her coup aged sixteen years of age, and ended it eight years later, devouring her own father to assume his position as head of the organisation. Since then, she has only grown stronger, cleverer, more powerful, and a hell of a lot fatter.
Christine is intelligent, charming, tender, and utterly ruthless. She keeps to the shadows, running her organisation in secret and only emerging to deal with particular targets or people she really, really likes the look of. Whispers of the mutant fox enforcer spread far and wide on conspiracy boards, but aside from a few blurred photos, there’s no real evidence. Just as the Don likes it. The result is that if you see her, it’s because she wants you to. Because she wants to show off to you. Because she’s coming for you.
Christine’s gluttony is eclipsed only by her sheer sadism. She adores breaking her prey, and will take as much time as she desires to tease them, taunt them, and terrify the heart out of them, using anything from psychological manipulation to tender words to full blown torture. Once she’s had her fun, however, the real pleasure begins. Christine’s organs are outsized even for her size, a sheath the size of a cannon pressing against her paunch and basketball-sized nuts swinging between those thick thighs. Even her female sex is a volcanic, plump-lipped, permanently dripping chasm as long as a person’s forearm, and the dark, plush, face-sized pucker which squats plumply above it almost puts it to shame in terms of sheer gluttonous intent. She adores feeding every part of herself, and can enjoy one person just as much as stuffing herself with up to a dozen. The fate of one slurped up by any of these ravenous holes is usually unpleasant, but can vary wildly depending on what she wants to happen to you. One thing is certain: you are
hers now. And she likes keeping her things very, very close.
More may be to come. But this is a start.
