He takes my thighs in his hands and he holds me open wide. I can feel the roughness of his grip. He has trained as a warrior. The rough surface of his palms is testament to the fact that he continues to work at those skills.
I feel his cock. I do not see it. It is a thick sword of flesh which rides along the length of my slit. He is wasting no time in taking me, perhaps because he wants to hurt me, or maybe because he is gripped in the same chemical bonds with which I find myself cursed. I need him. I want him.
“I’m a virgin.”
I don’t know why I am telling him that. He doesn’t care.
“You are a broken little human, and you will be broken all the more when I am done with you,” Krush hisses vengefully. “You will pay for all you have done.”
His words are vengeful and gruff, but his touch is careful and erotic. The pads of his massive alien fingers are circling the soft, wet slickness of my clit. I can feel myself flowering for him, all my inner desires becoming unchained as the folds of my sex swell and invite him. There are two things happening here. There is what the world sees, a king about to roughly ravage a deserving little rebel—and then there is what is happening, an explosive meeting of two very unlikely souls somehow made for one another.
Krush should feel like a vicious invading force, a cruel dominating beast. And he does. But he feels like something more than that too. He feels like my other half making contact after an eternity apart.
I sigh and feel myself sink into the throne, the plush fabric soft against my body. I have not felt many soft, rich things in my time. I have lived a harsh life full of rough realities. The king toys with my sex. I arch my hips to him. I am taking full advantage of my captivity.
He pushes inside me without warning. I feel the thick rutting spreading of my inner self around his hot cock. I wondered what sex would feel like with a korabi warrior. Now I know. It feels like being stretched to the point of no return.
Krush keeps pushing inside me, claiming new territory with every inch he sinks into my flesh. It doesn’t feel as though he is taking anything from me. It feels as though he is making something new inside me. I was untouched and unclaimed. I had no idea the potential for pleasure which lay inside me. Now I do.
He keeps thrusting and thrusting, pushing deeper and deeper, until I am entirely filled. I curse and wriggle, gasp and beg, but I don’t know what I am begging for. Mercy? I know I am due no mercy at all. In the eyes of the korabi, I deserve far worse than this. Mating with the king is an honor in their society. Krush must be confusing them as much as he is confusing me, his hips rolling with each one of his strokes.
I want everything he has to give. I want to experience all the pleasure I can before I die. When you are used to living like scum, you get used to taking pleasure where you can. There is precious little of it in the wild.
I spread my thighs and keep my hips high. I more than submit to the king, I welcome him. The longer he ravages me, the closer I get to the beautiful oblivion that can only come from the rough and dominant handling of a korabi king. There is electricity coursing through absolutely every part of me, my nipples are aching from the currents of sensation which spark fresh every time he grinds my hips down on the throne, his cock so deep in me my clit is forced to rub on the royal fabric.
I come. Hard. But he does not stop thrusting, even as I wail at the top of my lungs. The vision through my augmented eye goes so fuzzy I can barely see anything. It is not made to handle this level of biochemical overload.
I feel the king’s hand firmly on the back of my neck, his fingers wrapping around all the way to my throat. His other hand is gripping me by the hair. He has complete control of my head and my cunt. Every other part of my body follows his will.
I feel myself shivering and shaking, my thighs quivering as the orgasms roll through me one after the other, until finally, Krush himself gives into the pleasure between us. My tight, desperate pussy is gripping him so hard I feel it when he comes, his royal seed flooding my once virginal hole. This is animal. This is primal. This is not justice.