OP
OP
Verse
Star
- Joined
- May 8, 2011
She wasn't the kind of belligerent that she would try to move to get her frustrations out, even if it couldn't lead to her freedom. Not anymore. No. She let him pose her as he wanted, and keep her legs away with the stick, and perhaps suppress her breathing with the pressure a little. Her fight was long waning, and he liked seeing it in all its stages. It let his piques reach her better than it would if she had been in her full blown rebellion. Jessica was at the end of her spunk, used and abused, and he longed to see more of it, to see what depths he could plunge her into. To see what other things he could turn her into, now that she and all her iterations belonged to him because of her crimes against honor.
"A Klingon would have taken my cocks with more grace. You wouldn't have needed a gun then." while true on a surface level, he'd been with women of his own race and had them livid because of his... designs. It was a merit to be hard to handle, but females were warned about Meymat exactly because of this. He was not about to extend an excuse like that to this fallen agent. She had not deserved the allowances of his own kind. Admittedly, her cunt and ass had broken in a better way than that of Klingon women. To think humans could only best other by being worse than them.
She got to scream and give compliments to the gun that hurt her. He saw it go through her again. And then horror when he put it in her well trained ass and pulled again. A blink of resignation of death in her eyes, which he loved, and then, when that too had subsided, she was haunted by all this, the little parcel of flesh on the grid floor, more than at his whims. It seemed the gun did better in her ass. He liked the way she gulped for more oxygen, and his icy eyes kept studying her. He thought of another way of hurting her. Humans had such attachment to honor too, even if they played at being pragmatic beyond it.
He stood up, which let her legs free when he brought the stik along. He left the gun in her ass, though, and looked down. From what he could see her spirit was in a dismal low, and her physical strength wasn't far after. She was in a more complacent mood now. He'd put it to the test. His cocks were still out. "Up on your knees." A good human girl would know not to take the gun out of her ass when she started cleaning his steere and bano of her ass and cunt juices. If she decided to try to use the gun on him, a swift hit from the stick to the shoulder of her gunarm would relive her of it, if she relived her ass of it to begin. He wouldn't hold out to spite her if she chose the right thing, just some tribute from her hands and mouth would reward her with jets of his cum to lather her crying face. The quality of Klingon seed had different effects on different races. And after, if she'd been good enough, he'd let her enter unconsciousness by herself. "Pull the trigger." he offered her, as the last jolt into her ass would send her off, and they could pick this up when she woke again. The point would be, though, that she'd done it to herself, on his order.
"A Klingon would have taken my cocks with more grace. You wouldn't have needed a gun then." while true on a surface level, he'd been with women of his own race and had them livid because of his... designs. It was a merit to be hard to handle, but females were warned about Meymat exactly because of this. He was not about to extend an excuse like that to this fallen agent. She had not deserved the allowances of his own kind. Admittedly, her cunt and ass had broken in a better way than that of Klingon women. To think humans could only best other by being worse than them.
She got to scream and give compliments to the gun that hurt her. He saw it go through her again. And then horror when he put it in her well trained ass and pulled again. A blink of resignation of death in her eyes, which he loved, and then, when that too had subsided, she was haunted by all this, the little parcel of flesh on the grid floor, more than at his whims. It seemed the gun did better in her ass. He liked the way she gulped for more oxygen, and his icy eyes kept studying her. He thought of another way of hurting her. Humans had such attachment to honor too, even if they played at being pragmatic beyond it.
He stood up, which let her legs free when he brought the stik along. He left the gun in her ass, though, and looked down. From what he could see her spirit was in a dismal low, and her physical strength wasn't far after. She was in a more complacent mood now. He'd put it to the test. His cocks were still out. "Up on your knees." A good human girl would know not to take the gun out of her ass when she started cleaning his steere and bano of her ass and cunt juices. If she decided to try to use the gun on him, a swift hit from the stick to the shoulder of her gunarm would relive her of it, if she relived her ass of it to begin. He wouldn't hold out to spite her if she chose the right thing, just some tribute from her hands and mouth would reward her with jets of his cum to lather her crying face. The quality of Klingon seed had different effects on different races. And after, if she'd been good enough, he'd let her enter unconsciousness by herself. "Pull the trigger." he offered her, as the last jolt into her ass would send her off, and they could pick this up when she woke again. The point would be, though, that she'd done it to herself, on his order.