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Star Trek: Debt verseXsparklemuffin

Jessica was not fully mad. There was still part of the feeling woman in there. She was just convinced of something ludicrous. That made worth more, that made all her reactions and everything she said matter. Even among his faithful men, Meymat struggled to find the kind of devotion that beamed behind her beading eyes. He thought she was an accomplished worshipper, and not simply just a seduced zealot, when he took her now. This maturity to his steere came with a new sensitivity too. It was attentive to other things than the traditionally innerved bano. His biology wanted to reward him for seeking and carrying out the purpose of his state, perhaps a heightened, simpler form of the Vengeance he worshipped, and so the rougher and hardened exterior of the steere derived pleasure from her blood when it was drawn. He made a face to show as much, underneath the natural snarls of his aggressive act.

His lips were parted, his teeth too, when he was enveloped and drowned in her pussy, cut as it was, and lathering him in the sensitive blood. He nodded at her, with the kind of kinship found between warriors, before he started fucking her harder. It didn't matter if he bottomed out before, now, with a thorned lance, he'd stab through any obstacle. He could feel it too, in there, vigorous, brimming with potential. Stopped by his efforts. And she betrayed it as well, when she thanked him. Did she feel his piercing movements was for her, through the little life, not for the little life itself? What a delight humans could be, when they changed. He didn't give her mercy, because what she wanted didn't entail it. And he owed her none.

He held on to her neck still, but now he forced her to look up at him as he started pulling out. He knifed her like this without real impact between his hips and her pelvic hill, simply sawing inside her. There were hormones that came with a Klingon seeding, so that if the male who had claim found you and enacted this savaging, pleasure chemicals would help. An unusual sensation, there to encourage the female to accept the obviously stronger male.

But Meymat didn't wait long for her to reconcile it, and soon carried a healthy pace, all the way in, that he may cut more than he was bidden, when the worst of it was done, and there was no more foreign motion inside her. He had this steere now, and he'd satisfy it inside her. A beast, really taking from her, but he was engaged in this strange worship. It was wonderous in its own right, to push his body into hers, and have them collide even where they weren't erogenous. Perhaps he was glad Jessica was here, after all; to create and then satiate his natural rage.
 
Jessica convulsed, her mouth opened wide as his steere was withdrawn; barbs and blade-like protrusions caught her flesh, scratched, tore, and abraded her insides! When the fucking commenced, she could not find her voice to scream... The agony was intense and unlike anything she had ever experienced -- Meymat's seed stung with its acidic nature, but left a bittersweet pang of arousal that intensified everything. Pleasure and pain were indistinguishable; Jess stared at him with eyes wide and mouth agape as blood and cum slicked her thighs. His twisted snarls and rage-filled expression should have frightened her -- yet they were a love language few understood...

Jessica Nellis was fortunate -- she was able to take part in something so rare, primal, and unique. No other human alive knew this experience! Nor would many want to. In the afterglow of the mutant thing's death, her hormones and maternal instincts mingled with pheromones, her unhealthy devotion to Meymat, and raw pain... All while her life seeped away from the raw wound that pressed deeper inside with each of his thrusts.

Through it all, Jessica was conscious enough to savor him, too.

When he was finished, Jessica was practically a rag doll. Blood crested her lips, her breaths were labored. There was still light behind her eyes, she remained conscious, while she bled in his lap.
 
He used her. But that didn't mean he was all too tasteless about it. He was not so jaded with this activity that he couldn't like how rare it was. He had tried this more than once, and never had the female been of this kind of attachment. He thought her display of suffering was delectable. There was big emotions there, beyond the physical feelings that it must conjure. It didn't stop his hips when they were weaponized through his steere. He went on. It wasn't a matter of stamina, it was just wanting to collect this experience for the treasure that it was. The table was slick with her blood eventually, and he'd enjoyed drawing that blood, and they way it had pulsated past his organ, when he shoved it into her rhythmically. What a true Klingon event this had been.

She had this perverse faces about her, and how the noises stuck in her throat. Maybe she could see this for what it was. Through the pain she held on to something else, something decidedly focused, trying to experience it. He was impressed by Jessica, that she'd have the presence of mind for it, before the hormonal concoction took hold of her. She would not have this again, either. And maybe he thought that's why she was breaking, laid there on the surface in her own blood, some of it doubtlessly also the blood of their offspring.

He was livid when he came into her, and once the steere had given her what she'd truly earned, the bano, erected from this stimuli too, also deposited onto her, instead of inside. She was quite the war trophy, all but dead, in front of him. And she had gone into it willingly. Jessica Nellis did register as something else then, to Meymat.

-

The next time she woke, she would not remember her healing with Berk. Instead she'd wake up in larger quarters then before, in a simple but large bed. The room had weapons on the walls and a few amenities. She would know by the scent in here that it was Maymat's room, and hear water pouring in an adjacent room, where the door was open to let out steam.
 
The last thing Jessica remembered was the cold. In her last moments of consciousness, after even her vision had faded to black, her limbs had gone so cold... Her body's last efforts to warm her core. Yet that frozen tingle at her fingertips was the final thought her mind held -- and when her mind deigned to dream, it was of places both dark and frozen. The deepest depths of oceans, the lightless voids of a heat-death universe, snow-blind on a wind-whipped tundra. Fortunately her dreams were far and few between while she recuperated.

Jessica was adrift in the airless void of space, in a time so distant that stars no longer shone. Her eyes moved rapidly beneath their lids. She felt -- warmth, weight, breath in her lungs, blood in her veins! A familiar scent in the air. Jess opened her eyes and blinked against the light as she shivered under the covers. She was naked, naturally, and understood where she must have been even with her wits a step and a half behind. But steam, and the promise of the warmth, drew her to the adjacent room.

She wrapped the blanket around herself as she left the bed, dragging it behind her as she entered the steam and let its warmth embrace her...
 
It was a simple bathroom, but it was also large. It was designed much like a beach, with the floor eventually lowering into a pool. All of the surfaces were metal, save for the outlets of water placed along the wall, and a few metal rings and hoops fastened to the wall. The water was a third of the room, and along what might be called a bank, Meymat was spread out, in a corner, arms stretched toward either of the meeting walls, where edges grew out of the metal to support him, and perhaps for someone to sit. Longer than most Klingons, his whole anatomy was revealed to his human.

She would be happy to see that his steere had reverted back to the shape she'd known before; uncomfortable, maybe, but its ridges were smaller and duller, and no longer perfect for drawing blood. The mountain chain she knew down the middle of his face was his sternum as well, leading down to his abdominal muscles, which, like the rest of his designs, were so defined they looked almost scale-like, again, echoes of what could be found on his face. These things were not unusual for any Klingon, but Meymat had a more athletic and long lean, rather than stocky and immediately powerful. A spear to be thrown, rather than an ax to be brought down. He was without rings in his ridges, and his blue eyes were an easier hue here, in the steam.

"Off with the blanket." he said and reclined further, invitingly. He had good associations with Jessica now. It had been painful to walk around like that before, but she'd been the release he needed, and before she faded, she'd shown something he could construe as loyalty.
 
Jessica felt the steam embrace her, waft around her as she stepped through the warm mist. It did not fend off the chill of the half-remembered dreams, which made her draw the blanket tighter as fresh eyes took in the scene. To most it was far from opulence -- but to a Klingon, such space for one man to bathe was quite decadent. And on a ship, no less, where space was at a premium. Meymat looked so much like a King as well, or Emperor -- lithe and regal. His eyes were the loveliest shade of blue, almost as though she'd never noticed how deep they were before. She saw his steere had returned to normal, too. Perhaps it was odd that she craved it -- to feel it inside of her, the snap of her new hymen, as he forced himself through her cervix! In and out until she was raw...

The blanket hit the floor on his command, Jessica stood nude and trembling at the water's edge. She just couldn't shake the chill... Her nipples were so hard they hurt. Jess let the water slowly embrace her, then swam to him. She nestled beside him and tucked herself under his left arm -- practically an embrace. With a soft, pleasant moan, Jessica pressed against him and felt his body-heat.

"I'm... Cold..?" She said -- almost a question, as she couldn't fathom why the chill from her dreams lingered.
 
With the lack of other entertainment in here, Meymat's eyes did travel to the woman. He had seen the Vancouver and other Starfleet vessels. This shouldn't be too much in her opinion, but she was rightfully surprised, given the cultural aspect. This was what he deserved, after all. He intended to have tribute worthy of his station. Meymat was familiar with anger, that may be related to vengeance, in reference to human sins through a religion long since caught-up to by others, and also knew its siblings, vanity and gluttony. He didn't mind. In many ways, The Sabal was a perverse Klingon line, but because of its age, perhaps that was what the race used to be. He didn't mind that she looked. The defiant female they'd taken was long gone. Naked and out of place, with a certain want in her eyes, Jessica Nellis looked every bit the possession she had become.

He waited for her when she came to him. Humans had a reaching technique in the water. Klingons like to move through powerful bursts, though their style did look more like the one she employed the more tired they got. His own bodily design lent itself better to that, too. Though, he was more hydrodynamic than Jessica, and her curves and orbs, pushing through the liquid. He quietly hummed, always readying a growl, when she settled against him.

"You died." he answered and looked down at her, where she'd made herself at home under his arm. "Doctor Berk saved your life. You are rid of the bastard." He thought of the small hunt she'd evoked in him. It had been pleasurable, all the same. Klingon women did not all survive that kind of savaging. He touched the wet hair on her head. "What will you do now, Jessica Nellis?" he asked, curious, like he doubted she could even speak, like an owner of a dog would not expect it to change its barks for words.
 
"Oh..." Jessica said, on learning of her own demise. She closed her eyes and savored Meymat's caress of her hair, the feel of his body against hers, and the depth of his voice. Her senses congealed into a surreal experience, a dream-like sense of bliss tainted only by the chill too stubborn to leave her bones. Perhaps it would take time? Or maybe it would never leave -- the price for double-crossing death's threshold..?

Meymat's question puzzled her even more so. It conveyed the illusion that she had some freedom in choosing her fate; Jess already knew she do whatever he wanted. She belonged to him, and it was oddly comforting. "I died... Your vengeance was fulfilled, but you let the Doctor save me." Jess whispered her response. "So my life is yours -- every breath I draw, every moment I live, is a gift you've given me. I owe you everything..."
 
It was a significant thing, her death, and even if she lent it some gravity in her thoughts, and her sounds, it wasn't as large as a selfish being should find it. The things he did mattered because it dealt with whole spans of life, sometimes altered and pushed onto suffering paths, and sometimes cut short entirely. Jessica had other thoughts about it. She moved on to her life after death almost immediately. A practical creature, once again, though this time addled by her situation. When he looked at her there was a kind of awakening in her eyes. He considered that for a spell.

She sounded as though he was teaching her something. He hadn't meant to do that. Her mind was broken deeply, and her heart had followed suit. But she had a powerful intellect so it was harder to discern. He wanted to explore this new ailment inside her, that he'd given her by letting Berk revive her. "And what do you have to give me in return?" he wondered, without that claim in his voice, just honest curiosity. She wore everything she owned, but she had many applications, she'd already showed that. What did Jessica think she was worth?

He petted her hair some more and then relied heavier on the edge that supported his back. Jessica was once more restored to a better, untarnished version than they'd found on the Vancouver. He was getting used to seeing her like this, and started to appreciate its appeal. Perhaps her being alive was wonderous enough to raise her value, given what she had been through.
 
Jessica explored his chest with a gentle brush of her fingers. It was the first opportunity she'd had to revel in Meymat's strength and physique at rest. She peppered his neck and shoulder with the softest kisses in kind -- she knew a Klingon did not crave the soft touch of a human female; yet the soft petting of her hair showed his willingness to return a more gentle play. Jess loved it, basked in it, and soaked up all the attention she could for as long as he provided...

Meymat's question was again a puzzle to her. What did she offer that could not already be taken? Heart and soul were cute concepts, but like her kisses, they were a human love language... Jess needed an answer that was honest and unique; but her brain felt numb -- a step and a half behind. Her mind was breaking, finding logic and reason to dissect and process her feelings was already difficult... Her fracturing mind was no longer the tool most suited for the task.

"Anything..." Jessica spoke from the heart. "Give me your love and your rage! Please..? Kiss me. Kill me. Use me and abuse me... Fuck me! Wherever, whenever, and however you want! Give me to your men as a reward -- pass me around the ship if it pleases you! Or hoard me to yourself. Beat me when you're angry! Take your frustrations out on me -- I will take whatever you give. And when my body fails, the Doctor can fix me -- again and again -- if you still will it." Jess tilted her head to whisper into his ear. "Then there's the Federation -- however far you wish to go. I gave you my codes; plus I know a little Byrd has some juicy Captain's codes to expand that repertoire. And I know where a few Admirals like to vacation, or keep their luxurious off-earth mansions... Anything I don't know, I know where to find."
 
He leaned, interested, into her little tokens. To him it was fascinating, like learning the animal he was with. By no means was her human affection worthless, but it had other value to her captor than what she may intend. Pledges of loyalty, like the softness of any pet. He could use that. And he wondered how. He was not as well versed in human hearts as he was with their nerves and bodies. And holes. She entertained him while he laid there in the water with her. So he supposed she fulfilled her task, even now.

The madness out of her mouth was worth more, though. She wanted to be of use, and be used. This mad female, sharing his water. He looked at her to read her lips even as she gave him these perverse declarations. If he wanted to hurt her, he'd simply ignore her and let her spirit fade in his absence. When her heart was vacated, would there be room for more of her old self to return? That'd be a liability. But she looked and felt so loyal now. Like a pup of some soft race. A runt with sentimentality.

But that sentimentality was forgotten quickly. There were still barbs on her. Only she meant to brandish them for him now. Yes. She still had her spy skills, and the information she'd learned. Really, a nation's spies are it worst enemies. His smile was casual, because he liked those possibilities in her speech. He scooted back, which let him sit himself up on the edge over the water. Tall now, with drops traveling down. There were his double genitalia for her. He didn't even tell her. He just expected her to do both; take care of him and the genitals which had ruined her, and talk shop.

"I think we have a lot to strike at the federation with, thanks to you." he acknowledged. "But I do want to see you hard at work for a good purpose." he would have stroked her again, but she had a job to do. "Should I send you away in an escape pod then, to see what you might bring back from those that trust you? I will reward you upon your return, of course." His blue eyes wore a quiet intrigue. She'd have to be maimed for them to believe her, if they could.
 
The moment his two cocks were above the water's surface, Jessica read his body language with ease. She began with his bano, working with her hands in gentle strokes as it grew and stiffened... This led to subtle kisses on his steere, around its head, and soft tongue-play on the sensitive vents of its underside as both of his cocks rose from her attention. Typically a Klingon would prefer a rough lover; but if Meymat had wanted sex with his own kind, he could certainly have it... But Jessica knew she held a special place -- he savored her, whether for her sensuality or something else entirely, she was determined to fulfill his desires perfectly every time. And ready to be ravaged if he decided to take control...

Jess kept going while he plotted; alternatively deep throating both members while he spoke -- about sending her away. Away from him. Even as he stroked her hair, she couldn't hide the hurt in her eyes. Despite the hurt, she refused to cry -- he would want obedience, not tears! Jessica swallowed down an acidic load from his bano and felt the warmth hit her stomach. She nodded while the lasts strands hung from her lips, and her hands worked his near-bursting steere. "A recon mission, to the Federation and back again. I will do it if that is your wish for me." Jess said, but the tremble in her voice spoke volumes. She returned her attention to her current mission and forced her throat open wide. She took the full length of his steere, producing a jagged bulge in he neck, and felt each pump as he came...

Jessica took all of the acidic semen he had to give. Although it felt warm, it never quite shook that chill from her bones.
 
He thought her handling of his cocks was perfectly distracting. Humans gave pleasure well, because they were made for it. That's why all their technology made things more comfortable for them. That's why they'd never best his race in war. Her softness, and the slick of her tongue and the dedication of her strokes spoke to him as he laid out the plan. She was wise not to concentrate on just one of the tasks she'd been given. He could see the play of emotions on her face, and in the gathering of her eyebrows, when she did not like what he was telling her. She held it back, though, and while she released his bano, he inhaled slowly as delight ripped through the organ. She expertly and cleanly swallowed it up. Jessica had good manners now. But it was perhaps the steere that she had the better relationship with. She had saved it for last. Her hands squeezed the base of his genitals a little harder, when she might protest.

He looked at her when she accepted the mission, if he chose it, and the tension in the ridges of his face may have been from anger, but it was just him withstanding the pleasure at his second release, caused by her. The steere had a more acute pleasure profile, and even after its heightened state to rid of the unwanted offspring, it was still his favorite, even if Klingons usually derive more pleasure from the bano which was made for it.

He was well pleased by the end of it. Her diligent work coupled with the catharsis of hot water and the serenity of the sterile environment supplied endorphins and noradrenaline in enough quantities he had a rather satisfied expression. To her, who was still in the water in front of him, it would look a lot like mischief. "Bring me more secrets, then. Upset your former comrades and betray them in new ways. And take the captain home for me." In her own twisted reality of misplaced infatuation, it would perhaps taste bitter to supply fodder for the things she had just pleased, that wasn't herself. But loyalty is loyalty, even when it's not your flavor.
 
Jessica was again puzzled by his command. "Bring Byrd back to them..? She knows what I've given you... Starfleet will change everything, all the codes I've shared will be worthless!" She gushed. True to form, her head was a step and a half behind her mouth. Her brow raised a second later. "But she'll corroborate everything that's happened to me..." Of course Meymat knew all of that already. He likely knew the end-game of his plot while she was playing catch-up on the basics. He was a Klingon military genius! At best she was a spy; observe and report...

Jess rested her head against Meymat's knee, and idly traced her finger along the sharp ridges of his steere while she thought. "The last she saw of me was on the bridge, after you beat me. I can't go back to the Vancouver looking like this... I'll need to be beaten again. To make it look...convincing." She failed to hold back a wanton smirk as she glanced up to gauge his expression. Of course it was wrong to crave pain -- she understood that -- but to receive his rage was so much more than mere physical sensation. It was an honor, not merely to witness him in his glory, but to BE the effigy that he delivered his rage unto, to soothe him and leave him sated -- and survive. Few men could boast that. Yet she hungered for it...
 
He was entertained by her confusion. There was nothing wrong with her brain, Berk had seen to that. He watched the tides of emotions wash over her face, still dotted with drops from the water, that face which had just satisfied both his cocks with such reverence. There was a time when she only relied on her cunning, but maybe the lessons so far, in his house, had taught her that she should not think, only obey, if she wanted to have a somewhat tolerable existence. He had to laugh just a little, when she went on as though he'd meant for her to bring Byrd back to where she was from, and not make sure she ended up on the Baktan. When she calmed herself by tending to his steere again, he smirked with as much subtlety as that expression could provide. He was still Klingon, after all, even though he was an outlier among them. He couldn't hide his emotions as well as many of the human liars.

She had been devastated last time he beat her half way dead. Compared to what he'd given her before, just practicing violence seemed too blunt of a message. But now she wanted more. Would this be feasible in the long run? How delightfully absurd, if this woman just kept raising the dose for abuse. In the end, would she just be glad to be target practice? It was a strange addiction, she was building up to. He stroked her hair again, and sighed with something that sounded like pity as he did. The steere stayed firm for her. He wondered how she'd take it, when he explained to her, though.

"I did not mean for you to deliver her back to her home. I meant for you to take her here." and the implications should be clear enough for even the cock-drunk Jessica, since she knew he liked to see the captain without her uniform bottoms on. Even he didn't know how serious he was about that.
 
Jessica had been so daft. Of course he only intended her to go as far as the Vancouver and back -- she suddenly felt the gravity of her mistake. Yet Meymat stroked her hair; had sighed, and simply explained himself. There was almost a note of pity in his tone... Perhaps shamefully, she liked the way it made her feel. But she knew better than to bask in kindness when a mission had been given and his steere still stood at attention. Jess showed him a playful smirk as she pulled herself out of the water, and canted her hips towards his.

"You know, they saw us fuck, too," she said, as she massaged the underside of his steere. She used some of his pre-cum to slather her cunt in preparation. "They're going to have a doctor look at me. And they'll expect too see some... Interior damage." Jess rubbed her pussy lips against the head of his steere to entice him; and the feel of her own clit softly brushing against the back ridge of his shaft drove her wild...
 
The small blossoming of anxiety in her was to her credit. It was a lovely flaw for her to have. She needed to dislike the parts of her that failed him, even in theory. But no real harm was done, so when he lathered her in some caresses and reassurances, it seemed to reset her flow of endorphins. His touches were effective on her now, after the violence had gotten to affect and stew in her. Jessica had some talents, and they came from physical resilience and mental compatibility to his flavor of torture. While it altered her life from free agent into a slave, it would also let her enjoy the new life more. Good soldiers enjoy doing good work. And he had every intention of getting that out of her.

He thought she was rather brave with her suggestion, but since he felt his steere's ridges flare from the rigidity that strung it up hard when she touched it, he suppose he could allow it. The war-ready limb trembled when it got to connect to her. He grabbed her suddenly by her hip and pulled her forward, which meant he clit was crushed against a ridge and then bumped as he drove her more toward him, having the feminine nub ride the ridges on the way, sawing her without drawing blood. His hand was on her ass possessively as he looked at her. Jessica was at the point where she'd take punishment as a reward.

A quick turn had her back on the metal edge upon which he'd been sitting. He was risen out of the water and wasted no time plunging into her familiar pussy, undoing the barrier that Berk's recreation had provided her, anew. While the steere was not in the state that would rob her womb of life anymore, it was still a formidable thing all on its own. He inserted fully, until he connected his pelvic hill with her labia, the steere stabbing far into her stomach by way of her cervix. He didn't wait. His powerful lower back pumped with its adjacent muscles, and just one of his hands around her waist was enough to keep her there, the low of her spine bent against the metal edge.
 
Jessica savored the roughness that her clit endured, and her already-wet pussy left a trail along his ridges... The way he looked at her, the way his hand gripped her ass, made her heart beat faster! Her eyes met his as her back hit the metal edge -- she loved him, twisted as it might have been, there was something between his methods and her madness that scratched an itch she'd never known she had.

The first time he had entered her it was rape. This time was rapture.

Jess arched her back, and accepted the first thrust with a sharp inhale and her eyes wide. No tears, no scream. Her mouth made an "O" but she held her silence and her breath through the pain. He'd gone so quick; the pain radiated from her injured cunt, straight up through her! As Meymat kept thrusting, her breaths became panting. Her pussy bled in his lap. Jess fought back tears -- she wanted to make Meymat proud of her...
 
Her worship was a different flavor than other captives. The good point to Jessica was that she broke differently than others. Maybe this was what she wanted all along. Maybe she had always been searching for a life like this. It made him fascinated with her. Among the myriad of minds he'd broken, it seemed Jessica Nellis had been able to mend crooked, but pleasant. He saw his triumph in her adoring eyes when he positioned her.

And when he divided her folds and impaled her new virginity, courtesy of the good doctor, she gave him another thing he hadn't expected. While it did look like a deflowering, it wasn't the kind that he usually saw when leading with his steere. It was as though he'd only gone in with his bano. Jessica was perverted now, and she'd altered her own nerve pathways to fit this new obsession of hers. It was much like skinship between new lovers of softer made races.

"You like it?" asked, taking full advantage of her break. He thrust harder, and picked an intensity, and kept it with his muscular back and legs, making the water foam. He smelled the blood between them, and relished in her brave expression. He slapped her, but it wasn't malicious. "You love being used by me, don't you, Jessica?" he asked. "It's what you're for now." he sawed up into her pussy with the volatile member, sure to help in their physical ruse to make the Vancouver crew believe. He slapped his hand around her neck to hold her in place when his other fist came arching into her side, targeting her ribs there as he was brutally fucking her. But this beating didn't have the anger of the last one. He was helping her by battering her from the inside and out. And he was enjoying it. She'd see it in his face.
 
"I... I love it!" Jessica said between increasingly labored breaths, while her back pressed painfully against the metal ledge. The slap caught her by surprise, but it was so light she smiled and breathed a coy little laugh. "Yes!" She answered his inquiry. "Yes..." She said again, her heart and soul poured into the word, while he fucked her raw... The pain was intense, yet each thrust crushed her clit against him and sent a jolt of mixed sensations through her. It took a twisted mind to take pleasure in pain -- she was so far down that path she needed more... His bladed ridges abraded her tormented flesh; catching, cutting, and scraping away layer after layer as his steere invaded her fully!

Jess loosed a delighted little laugh when Meymat took her throat; yet she winced as he struck her ribs. It wasn't all that hard -- enough to bruise, at least. Her eyes met his and she saw the absence of anger; saw the enjoyment plastered to his face. If it weren't for the Mission, she would have basked in his delight... But she needed more. Craved and hungered for it! And Byrd and the Vancouver's doctor would need some convincing, Jess told herself. "H-harder... Please!" She begged. Her eyes never left his, and shined with the gleam of an addict hungry for more. "My love, please...

"Break me."
 
As he enjoyed her under the guise of sending her away like this, and her blood frothed around her labia lips and her juices flowed to compliment them, he could see how she had turned. Into something else and against herself. There were pain responses in her, but not the jerking, unwilling motions of someone who was trying to flee, and it wasn't the lax limbs of someone who had given up, or trusting catatonia to carry them through. In breaking, Jessica was as perfect a specimen as he had ever seen. She had wanted this. She hadn't tried to figure out another plan to get herself onboard the human vessel. She would rather come battered and part-way dead than any other way. She was not only proving herself useful, but to have methods that particularly spoke to him.

She was delighted at every new abuse. Perverse now. He heard her begging, and she'd feel a stiff flex in the steere that was cutting and punching her at it. He did engage some of his real strength, a strange line of muscles rising from his lower back, connecting his wing-like shoulderblades to his glutes as he pumped into her. If she was lucky, he wouldn't be grinding down her spine with the locomotive motions. Another punch to her, this time in her stomach. For the moment his knuckles were deep in her abdomen, he could even feel his steere on his knuckles through her skin, as it was ripping and gouging her mad cunt out.

Then he turned those knuckles to lead with their triangular angle, just a slight incline of his wrist, next time he swung at her ribs. It would knock one or two bones in half for sure. He pulled his cock out of her, which happened with as much damage as the Klingon genitalia was destined to cause, and then he turned her, placed her bent over the edge, tits down. He twisted her arm behind her back, and pulled it out of the socket with a deft yank, and then inserted his steere into her ass, ruining the pucker more with every ridge coming in. He fucked her hard and pinned her by the grip he hand on her wrist, and made sure to twist until he heard the bones in her forearm give.
 
Jessica savored Meymat's strength as he pumped harder -- deeper! His steere gouging a path of wounds inside her, that were pure bliss... She nearly mouthed the words 'I love you' as her eyes met his, but the words were robbed from her lips as his knuckles drove into her stomach! Her diaphragm buckled; she loosed a hollow cry as all the air vacated her lungs! Jess couldn't breathe; the pressure from his knuckles crushed her insides against his throbbing steere and its fins gouged deeper, tore grievously through her cervix! Her cunt throbbed around him as she came -- a frothing spray of red...

When his fist came for her chest it was just as well her lungs were empty, lest they be pierced by shattered bone. Unbidden tears filled Jessica's eyes. Her body hurt -- her body responded. She loathed it but could hardly be blamed for that... She finally drew sharp and shallow breaths, like a frantic panting, as Meymat tore his steere free. Her insides pulsed, again and again, with painful orgasms as the sting of his semen seeped into her injuries.

Jessica let out a delighted giggle as he turned her and bent her over the metal edge. The ease with which he pulled her arm from its socket was a reminder of how small she was in his in his hands -- how frail she was, and how useless any resistance would be... Jess moaned as he entered her; his steere parted her cheeks and delved into her ass -- slicing through her without mercy! Pinned down and fucked hard, with broken ribs and dislocated arm, it was the breaking she deserved. Then she felt the twisting of her forearm, and fully understood. "Yes..." She gasped, barely able to form words between half-drawn breaths. "Yes!" Jessica licked her blood-flecked lips.

She did scream when the bones cracked. She was only human. No matter how much she craved the pain, her body had it's natural responses. And her broken mind had its less natural ones, too...

It was excruciating; it was ecstasy!

Jessica came. A flow of dark crimson poured from her pussy into the pool... Her body shuddered under his grasp, until her screams became moans again. She beaded with sweat. A pink blush came to her face, down her shoulders and chest. As Meymat pumped in and out, all of her ached like a broken doll. But Jessica Nellis was not cold anymore.
 
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