The Alien Warrior King's Accountant (Royal Aliens 4)
That will teach her the lesson a red bottom has not taught her. My cock, thrust deep inside the tightest of her holes, that will make her irredeemably mine.
It’s not why she’s here. She’s not a concubine offered for my pleasure. She’s an accountant here to do my taxes. But she could be both. For the moment she is serving little in the way of financial use. Why not fuck her? Why not feel that slick wetness being produced by the inner glands of her rampant human desire wrapped around my scaled rod?
* * *
Tania
He fists my hair hard, and lowers himself over me. I feel the room around me darken, his shadow falling across my field of vision as his thighs meet mine — and an alien cock slides across my slit, the length of his shaft enough to make my eyes fly open wide in complete shock.
He’s hot to the touch, and I can feel the massive girth of his royal alien manhood as he guides it along my exposed slit.
All my words of protest flee me in an instant. I am left with nothing but animal moans, guttural, frightened sounds of curious arousal.
He is going to fuck me. There can be no doubt about that. There is an inevitability about this moment, almost as if I was created expressly for this defilement, my entire nature limited and designed for him.
He drags his cock back down, and this time he presses not the shaft, but the massive head against my inner lips, spreading them with alien flair which matches my own anatomy with biological coincidence.
This is all happening so quickly. I have barely been on his ship for thirty minutes and already I am naked and spanked and sore and…
“Oh my godddd!”
… being spread around his cock which slides inside me slowly, the grip on my hair keeping me in place, my back arched, my aching cheeks quivering, as inch by inch, scale by scale, this alien king conquers the very core of me.
“Ah! Fuck! My god! Tyrant! Please! Oh!”
I can form words, but not sentences. Tyrant does not speak at all. He growls and he snarls and he hisses, the powerful sibilance of his desire setting every nerve ending I have aflame as his cock finally finds the very deepest part of me and I am stretched past the point I knew I was capable of.
I am full of him. I feel as though I have become little more than a sexual appendage, his rough thickness so deep inside me, taking up every bit of available space. I am unable to move, trapped by his clawed hand and his scaled cock.
“My punishments of you will take many forms, human.”
I wail as he pulls out, slowly, denying me the gratification my body seems to have instantly become addicted to, the softness of my sex all swollen and puffy and so fucking wet. Without him, I am empty.
Suddenly, he is back inside me in one long, rough surge. He is fucking me with disciplinary strokes of his cock which use my pussy the same way he used my ass — to make a point. To tell me who owns me. To make it clear that my human notions of freedom and outspokenness will only end in a wailing, writhing mass of fractious desire. I can fight. I can whine. I can beg. I can cry. But in the end, my flesh will bend to his will.
I lift myself to him, my hips rising up amid the grasp of the punishment bench and the king himself. I feel him positioned perfectly to plunge in and out, long, straight, rough strokes which make my soaked pussy clench every time.
Submission is easy when there is no choice. There will be no defying this king. He commands everything in his presence down to the smallest atom. To him, I am nothing but a helpless little animal to be used for his pleasure, punished for his satisfaction.
I come hard, screaming and squirming, my hands grasping for something solid, but there is nothing solid in this realm besides what is making me orgasm. King Tyrant is the only thing that really exists. He is the harsh, rough arbiter of all things, and I am as much his as everything else aboard this ship.
At some point, the spanking bench thing retracts out of reality, and leaves me naked on my feet. Instead of being held by the ship, I am being held by the king himself. My naked body presses against his, his still-hard cock rough against my belly. I can smell myself on him, my human scent smeared all over his alien manhood.
I don’t know if he came, but I sure as hell did. I’m weak everywhere, but especially through the knees. Being held up by him makes it easier to steady myself, even though the feeling of my nipples against his scales feels dangerously stimulating.