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The moan she made might have been one of shame, or one of anticipation and arousal. It was impossible to tell, even in the confines of her own spinning mind.
This king was having an unpredictable effect on her. He was making her want that which she did not want, causing her to desire the very thing she hated most. He was loathsome, cruel, arrogant, her greatest enemy. And he was also everything she wanted with a desire which frightened her. He was right. From the moment he’d cornered her, she’d started to produce the slick liquid of feminine desire. Her body was preparing to be claimed by the king, and as much as she wanted to deny it to him, to herself, to the world as a whole, she could not.
As she suckled his cock with much more eagerness than she would ever have admitted to feeling, Archon growled, grabbed her by the hair, and tossed her on the bed, following her down in a passionate embrace, he kissed her deeply, and took her virginity.
She screamed as the king’s cock pierced her hymen, ripping away the last vestiges of innocence and replacing them with the throbbing hot thick reality, that she was a human subject of an alien king, and her body was owned.
For a moment, there was nothing but pain. The intensity of being broken open, unsealed by rough royal flesh made her body tense and tight. But he held himself in that sacred place, the invasion of his cock a solid and unyielding thing, and as the seconds passed by and resistance proved to be completely futile, she felt herself soften, the wetness of her core slicking the ridged rod of the king.
Archon fucked her long and hard. He made her poor pussy ache with powerful thrusts which did not abate even when one, two, three orgasms had been torn from her. When she looked down at the place where they were joined, his scaled alien cock buried deep inside her, she saw her own lower lips puffy and red from the ravaging.
He snarled and growled like a wild beast, his mouth rampaging over her body, kissing, licking, tasting and most of all, taking every part of her. He latched on to her left breast and thrust deep with a final snarl, the entirety of his body stiffening and arching as the king released himself inside her.
Iris took every drop of his seed, wailing as loud as he roared, the two of them joined in that filthy moment of liquid togetherness, her juices and his come all mixed up together.
And then… he was done.
Archon held himself inside her and rolled onto his back, keeping her in place on his cock, as he closed his eyes and started snoring.
Iris was trapped on his cock, filled with his come, and unable to escape while he passed out from the exertion, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other hand cupping her ass.
She wasn’t going to fall asleep as well, of course. That would be too intimate. That would be too…
When Iris awoke, the king’s cock had slid from her pussy, and she had slid from atop his body to lay curled up next to him in the bed.
His seed streamed from her sex, the creamy reminder of her shameful tryst. She’d fucked the very same king who had destroyed her village and she had done it with something far too close to willingness.
Quietly, and carefully, Iris got out of bed. She could feel the ache between her thighs, a stinging soreness which would not soon pass she was sure.
The king still lay in post-coital slumber, completely unaware that his prey was escaping, perhaps completely unconcerned. She did not imagine that she mattered to him. It had been clear enough what he wanted with her. He wanted to conquer her, and to win.
She slipped out of the tavern on stockinged feet and found her way onto the back of a cart leaving the town. It was almost too easy, but she knew why. He didn’t care about her, and so he didn’t care if she ran. There was no need to keep a close eye on something you had used and intended to discard anyway.
As the cart wheels rattled along the rutted trail, she felt his come slipping out of her, soaking into the material of her skirt. When they stopped at a river, she would wash herself, remove the sticky stench of alien seed from between her thighs. Until then she had no choice but to let it seep, and to feel the ache which extended from the space between her legs all the way up inside her. The alien king had touched her in places no man ever dared, and he had made her scream in pleasure while he did it. Now she was left with the aftermath. The bruising, the shame, the knowledge that when her resistance had mattered most she had spread her thighs and offered herself to him.
