He tore the dress from her, his massive hands turning the tendrils and flowers to lawn clippings instantly. She shrieked with true fear, but it was too late for something like fear to matter. She had awoken an ancient evil, and she had ignited Konan’s own vicious spirit in a single action.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
It was too late to be sorry. She’d gotten cocky. She’d thought that their post-coital conversations had given her enough insight into him to understand. But they hadn’t.
“You will SUBMIT, human!” He roared the words as he reached for the branch of a nearby tree, tearing a whippy lash to use not only across her already heated ass, but her thighs as well.
“You will NEVER speak out of turn again. You will NEVER presume to touch this crown. You will crawl at my feet, you will consume only the scraps from beneath my table, and you will be forever a prisoner, witness to the atrocities which will flow inevitably from your actions today.”
His words hurt more than the lashing thin wood which kept catching her across the most tender parts of her body, leaving little welts on her cheeks and legs.
She cried, tears of real regret and shame, but he was not done with her. He sat on a rock and pulled her over his thighs, spreading the cheeks of her ass with his hand, he kept using the tip of the lash on the inner parts of her rear, the most sensitive spots where nothing ever touched her.
Elizabeth wailed and writhed, but she could do nothing to stop him. The only way to stop this would have been to have never set it in motion, and it was too late for regrets. She had to deal with the wasp-like stings which were being laid across her poor, sore ass, and her pussy lips as well.
Only when Konan had enough and pulled her up above him did she get any respite — and it was a very limited, short respite at that.
“You knew what I was,” he growled, holding her tightly by the chain. “You felt my capacity for cruelty and evil. I know you did. But you chose to taunt, defy, and ultimately betray me for this crown. Well, let me show you what the crown believes you deserve, human brat.”
With that, he plunged himself deep between her punished thighs, his cock stretching her wide without warning.
“You are soaked, human,” he growled as he sank deep inside her. “You are wetter than you have ever been. Do you enjoy pain? Do you need to be humiliated and punished? Is that what you crave?”
She could give no answer. All she could do was scream with the pain and pleasure he was inflicting on her.
He held her over his cock and hammered his hips up into her, ravaging her as he claimed her mouth with rough, possessive kisses which choked out the cries and wails.
Were those orgasms rushing through her? She couldn’t tell. She was awash in sensation. It felt as though she was being subjected to a carnal quake, an ongoing rough fucking which made every part of her tight and hot. So bad and so good, all at the same time.
“I’m going to fill this dirty human hole,” he told her. “I’m going to use you like the fuck meat you are. I’m going to…”
His words turned into a rough roar of ecstasy punctuated by her gasping cries of exhausted climax. She was so well used. She was so fucking sore. She was so completely drained and done and dripping when his cock slid from her pussy, a hot rush of their mixed fluids following in its wake.
“Time go to,” Konan announced.
He picked her up, threw her over his shoulder, and carried her back to the ship, a limp ragdoll human captive dripping his seed from her well-used hole.
Chapter 11
“Sire! What would you will of us?”
Konan was greeted by the crew all assembled and waiting outside the ship. All had seen what happened with the crown. He could feel the power of the crown rushing through his veins, a surging darkness which allowed him to embrace all his basest, cruelest instincts.
The human over his shoulder was making moaning, whimpering noises which he found rather satisfying. He had been too gentle with her. He had indulged in conversation, weak pillow talk which had given her the opportunity to take advantage.
She would not get that opportunity again.
“We are returning to Masih,” he told his crew. “I will retake my throne. Prepare the ship.”
If anybody was concerned that the ship was still firmly rooted, they knew better than to bring it up. Konan was remembering the joy of terrifying all those who encountered him. When he returned to Masih, he would finish what he had started. The new regime would rise on tides of blood.