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Whether she wants pain or not, I know she needs punishment. Surrounded by the remnants of one of my territory’s oldest watering holes, I decide to slow down just a little. Long enough to give her what she truly deserves.
“Feisty little human brat,” I growl, pinning her in place and swatting her cheeks with the palm of my hand. I need to be careful not to hurt her, but this part of her body is very padded. When my palm meets it with a swift slap rather than a hard blow, I see her cheeks bounce and almost immediately turn pink.
She lets out a sound that is not a wail of despair or pain, but instead a giggle of amusement. Does she find this funny? Does she feel no pain as well as no obvious fear? I doubt it. Such a creature would present never-ending danger to itself.
“You are in my territory now,” I tell her, swatting her again, watching that delicious bounce and lovely pink hue deepening. “And you will obey me in all things. You will make amends for the damage you have done here. You will…”
“Oh my god, shut up,” she laughs again.
I am not getting through to this obstinate creature. But that does not mean I intend to give up. She will submit to me before I fuck her. She will beg for my cock through tears of contrition. My hand is not the only thing that can be used. I happen to have on my person a saurian switch. This is a leathery piece of a native species of cane, about a foot and a half long. I carry it more as a symbol of my station than anything. I very rarely have any reason to correct someone tender enough to be affected by its bite. It is made to be felt through a saurian’s rough scales. This human will certainly feel it on her soft, bare flesh.
Pulling it from the snug little holster at my side, I cut the air with it, making the switch sing. If she knows what is coming from the sound, she does not react. She stays where she is, unable to get up, unable to directly defy me, trapped in place, waiting for a kind of treatment she has clearly needed and deserved for a very long time.
“Let’s see if you laugh now, little human,” I growl, before swinging the switch down across her cheeks, finding the very center of her pertly exposed rounds.
SNAP!
“Ow!”
I see a very satisfying pink line appear immediately, along with an even more satisfying gasp of pain.
“So you are capable of feeling something,” I say. “Perhaps if you had tried the path of contrition before this moment, you might not now be suffering as you are.”
I repeat the treatment, laying another line underneath the first. Every fibre of my being wants to fuck this human, but I have to have her in the right mental position first. I will not wrestle with a smirking, smug, resistant mate. I will force her submission, make her find the part of herself that is soft, and willing, and ready to give into the bond of mating.
“Monster!” she curses.
“Yes. Of course. But more than a monster, I am alpha. I am master. I am the one who is always obeyed.”
I punctuate each of these revelations with another one of those harsh swishes. I am barely putting any strength into this. The implement does most of the work, creating raised red lines across the entirety of her cheeks from top to bottom, all the way down to the tops of her thighs. Once begun, the punishment has its own momentum. She soaks it up the same way a desert soaks up rain, complaining at first, but then beginning to gasp and cry out and moan. I notice that none of this is doing anything to make her arousal abate. If anything, the tender flesh between her thighs that I already felt squirming on the head of my cock is now even more engorged and puffy, gleaming with wet human need. I was right to follow my instinct.
Putting the lash down before I start drawing blood, I flip her over on the countertop and spread her legs wide, inspecting the fresh, soft territory I am about to claim. She looks up at me with those big, round eyes, with just a hint of gleaming moisture absolutely radiating desire. Her face is flushed, and her hips are still performing that repetitive gyration, lifting her sex to me over and over in a constant invitation.
I take that invitation gladly, surging into her with a single powerful thrust. That little part of her that put up some resistance to begin with breaks away in an instant. I see a slight wince, but nothing more as her mouth falls open in an expression of erotic shock.
“You’ve been a very bad girl,” I growl as I slide my cock back out of her. It emerges gleaming, my scales catching the light in a new way as she coats me with her need. She feels incredible. She feels like she was made for me, like her body was created as a hot, tight, wet, and yielding vessel for my desire.
I thrust and thrust again, drawing her back on my cock every time, using her, claiming her. Punishing her. Giving her everything she deserves and taking every bit of her. This is mating like no other. This is an intense, primal, immediate bond forged in flesh.
I have fucked many females before this moment and never felt this level of connection before. The way I feel while joined with this human who I do not know is transcendent. There are stars fusing somewhere inside the pair of us. Destiny is being realized.
I look down at the human woman writhing on my saurian rod, making sounds of pure ecstasy as her greedy hips buck and search for even more sensation.
Does she feel it? Does she understand what this means?
Sullivan
My ass is sore, my head is spinning, and I am feeling the closest thing to shame I have felt in a long time. The big, clawed hands gripping my hips and keeping me in place for this punishment fucking are impossible to escape even if I wanted to — and yet I find myself eagerly surrendering to this overwhelming sexual contest. He is driving me mad. He is filling me with so much energy and so much pleasure it feels like my brain can barely function through it.
“You’re mine,” he growls down at me. “My mate. My owned little human thing. You belong to me now.”
He doesn’t even know my name, but with every snarled declaration of possession, I feel the passion overtaking me even more, running through my body, erasing all other feelings, all other thoughts. Everything in the universe disappears besides him.
He makes it metaphysical, and then he makes it very physical again.
“Little pink bud,” he rumbles, the pad of his thumb extending from his grip to brush over my clit, which has been betrayed by my lips and now stands proud, a small, but ever-so-sensitive little nub vulnerable to his attentions.
My hips try to buck in response, but there is no escape. I have to take his fucking, and I have to take his teasing, and I have to experience the orgasm that is fast rising through my body, being ripped from the grip of every single one of my reluctant nerves. I don’t want to —
