Case Study: Interspecies Mating, page 25
But, to her surprise, he didn’t charge immediately. His fingers twitched, curling up into a threatening display of his claws, but he kept himself under control.
“What do you want from me, Shoshana?” He asked, voice rough with need and barely restrained violence. Just hearing it made her shiver all over.
“You can pull out, right?” She asked, surprised by her own breathy voice. She didn’t even sound like herself anymore. But she had never been so turned on that she could feel the wet spot in her panties either. All that barely constrained power looming right over her, threatening to be unleashed, made her feel fragile and feminine like nothing ever before.
“Pull out,” he repeated like he’d never heard the words before. “You mean… not come inside you?”
“Yeah. You can, right? You’re not, like, going to get stuck in me, are you?”
“No. But… you won’t be insulted if I do that?”
She blinked, surprised by the question. “That’s an insult?”
He nodded his head once. “To refuse a female your seed is a great insult.”
She chuckled. “Not to humans. We’re a bit too prolific for that.”
He bellowed at the reminder making her whimper as her entire lower belly clenched in longing. The vibrations of that rumbling sound deep in his chest were magical.
“I can do that,” he assured her. “If you like.”
“Can we have sex without it being permanent? I mean, it’s not the hunt, right?”
The corners of his mouth turned up into an evil smile that made her shiver. “No, tsaria. You’d know if you were being hunted. I can fuck you without mating you. I can fuck you without breeding you. I want both, but I can wait until you do too.”
That was the thing though. She did want both. With a fierceness that surprised her. Which was exactly why she wasn’t doing it. Until she knew she could trust those feelings, until she knew this wasn’t just some weird biological manipulation, she couldn’t take that step.
But she could enjoy her alien lover. And she would.
“Come here,” she ordered, beckoning him closer with a curl of her finger.
He pounced.
A shriek of surprise burst out to suddenly find herself pinned to the bed, one of his big hands on her shoulder, the other yanking her hips up to rest on his thighs, opening her to him.
“Take this off,” he ordered, sliding a claw under her bra and pulling, threatening to break it.
She arched up, reaching back and under to pull at the clasps. It loosened and he pulled, yanking it off her arms and spilling her breasts. His bellow was a steady rumble now, so close to her pussy it made her ache as he flicked her nipple with his thumb.
“I see the appeal of these now,” he said, covering her entire tit with one hand. She was well endowed in the chest, but his palm covered her completely.
He was so big. So strong. It made her moan as she arched again, rubbing her nipple across the rough scales of his palm. The gentle scrape was incredible.
“Sensitive?” He asked, taking the other breast with his second hand.
She nodded, covering his hands with her own. Wordlessly, she showed him how to massage them, how to tease and pinch at the peaks. He let her lead for a few seconds, learning what she liked, but once he got the hang of it, he took over.
His bellow, his scaled fingers over her nipples, were doing magical things to her pussy. But it wasn’t enough. The muscles clenched and ached around nothing, yearning to be stuffed full of that strange, alien cock. To feel those knobs dragging in and out of her. They would feel strange, but she was eager for it.
“Rizor, please,” she begged, grabbing his wrists to stop his twisting. She was reduced to pleading, and it was so strange, but wonderful. She was surprised just how much she liked this new, soft side of herself. “Fuck me. Please.”
His hands slid down, off her breasts, to take hold of her hips. He lifted her, adjusting her body to him, putting her in the position he needed so he could notch the head of his lower cock at her entrance. The upper one stood straight as he pressed forward. Adding pressure but backing off before penetrating her.
“Rizor, do it!”
He laughed. The sound blended into his bellow creating a rolling tide of vibrations transmitted to her clit through the head of his cock that made her whimper, yearning for more.
Growling, she dug her nails into the soft scales of his wrist. She knew she couldn’t break through, but she gave it her best try, squeezing until her hands shook.
That bite of pain, of anger, broke him.
He jerked his hips, thrusting forward just enough to pop the first knob past her entrance. She gasped, eyes rolling back. It was different from the head of a human cock slipping past the tight ring of muscle. His knobs weren’t smooth or perfectly round, and she was aware of their difference.
Before she could get used to it, he thrust forward again, forcing the second knob in, stretching her out. To her surprise, she could still feel the distinct shapes of the two knobs already inside her.
He pulled back, not enough to slip the second knob out, but just enough to pull. The strange sensation made her breath catch, and before she could try to breathe again, he slammed forward, smacking their hips together, shoving the third, thickest, and last knob up into her. Stuffing her full, shoving her cervix back, while the slick body of his upper shaft nestled right against her clit.
Groaning, he fell forward, trapping her body under his as her legs twitched against his hips.
“So… tight…” he grunted as though shocked. “But you opened right up for me.”
He began hissing and growling. Speaking, she realized, in his native tongue. It was such an inhuman language, and she didn’t understand a single syllable, that it drove home just how strange and alien the male impaling her was.
She wiggled under him. Her body sliding against his scales. The rougher ones on his chest scratched wonderfully making tinges burst all over her skin.
His bellowing, being directly connected to him, was driving her mad. But her thrashing wasn’t encouraging him to move.
She turned, biting him again – sinking her teeth right into the soft skin right there between the junction of his neck and shoulder.
He roared, pulling back his hips, and snapping them forward. It was a strange feeling. The way the knobs of his shaft stretched and released her entrance in such quick succession had her crying out as she dug her teeth in deeper. Encouraging more.
He gave it to her. Long, deep, hard strokes that rocked her entire body each time he slammed into her. Like he was trying to split her in half.
And she loved it. The tugging. The pushing. The plugging. He was forcing her body to adjust to his size, his shape. Unapologetic. Demanding. His slick upper cock rubbed against her clit – a sweet prelude to the grinding scales on his abdomen.
There was such casual strength in his arms to hold her hips up, keeping her at the height he desired, yanking her to him even as he thrust forward. The scales, the slick, the strange shape of his cock as it pushed and pulled had her eyes rolling back as she did her best to carve lines into his back with her nails.
She didn’t succeed, but she felt his appreciation as his movements became more frantic, forceful, bruising.
She wasn’t ready for just how fast her orgasm crept up and bashed into her body with all the force of a sledgehammer. It cramped her belly, ecstasy shredding her apart as she screamed, back bowing, pussy clamping down, desperately milking his cock.
Rizor roared, pulling out almost too late. Wet heat spread across her belly as he came all over her. The sheer amount was shocking. She gasped, running her fingers through the mess.
Rizor, panting, yanked her up higher. She gasped as, this time, he lined the head of his upper cock with her entrance. He wasn’t slow about it this time. He slammed all three knobs deep then rutted her like a beast as she spasmed beneath him.
And she loved every second.
Chapter 25
Rizor
While he knew, intellectually, that humans were different, Rizor didn’t truly appreciate just how much until he first thrust into Shoshana’s wet heat.
Sure, there was the obvious. Ratchi females had only one hole, but two vaginas just past it, leading to two wombs. Shoshana’s single hole seemed too small for even one cock, but she spread for him like a blooming flower. And that was the biggest difference.
Fucking ratchi females was a battle, quite literally. While she fought him with claws and fangs, her cunt would also be struggling to keep him out. It would clamp down, forcing him to fight to force his shaft inside. That was why his cock had knobs, to keep the ground he gained as he pushed in further, struggling to reach either of her wombs.
Shoshana’s cunt was tight, but it was welcoming. Her climax was accompanied with rippling contractions of her muscles that seemed to try to drag him in deeper. To prompt him to release his seed inside her. She might not want it, but her body certainly did.
It had been physically painful to pull out. He almost hadn’t done so in time. It seemed so wrong to deny his female his seed, but so absolutely right to see her covered in it. His scent marking her skin, claiming her as his.
But only one of his cocks had come. Her little hole, now gaping open, was winking at him as her climax continued to rock her. It was an invitation he couldn’t deny as he slammed his upper cock deep and fucked her hard and fast.
His cocks would normally come at the same time, if they were appropriately stimulated, but the upper one hadn’t been. However, it was right on the edge. He moved faster, trying to get deeper, to get her to come again. He wanted to feel her cunt clutching him before he pulled out.
Her little claws had found purchase right there on the edge of his scales, digging into the softer skin beneath them. Not enough to pierce, but just enough to hurt. That hint of pain made it better. Her blunt teeth digging into his shoulder drove him wild.
He changed the angle of her hips, trying to get deeper. Doing so made her scream. Her clit, he realized, was dragging against the rougher scales at his lower abdomen. And she absolutely loved it, judging by how her keening got higher and her body tensed again.
Climax threatened, hovering right there on the edge. He could see hers building in the tense lines of her body. He could feel his own tightening in his sac – the one that hadn’t already been drained, spilled across his female’s belly.
She broke with a choked cry, locking her limbs around him, biting his neck. Clenching onto him completely. Almost like she didn’t want him to pull out.
He could heed her unspoken command. Pump her womb full. Claim her completely.
With a roar that was part ecstasy, part frustration, part sheer force of will, he ripped free of her hot grip and came across her thighs, over her cunt. If he couldn’t fill it, he wanted to cover it.
Gasping for breath, he dropped her back onto the bed, covering her body with his own. Holding her as they both came down. Her teeth were out of his flesh. She was now kissing along the marks she might have left. He sincerely hoped they bruised.
“Wow…” She breathed, running her hands up and down his back.
He chuckled, hunching in tighter around her. “You’re never going to get rid of me after that, tsaria.”
“Oh, darn,” she mumbled.
He lifted himself up so he could look down at her.
There was a sheen of sweat over her body, but it was nothing compared to the shine of his seed that was smeared over her belly, her thighs, her mound. Her eyes were still bright with pleasure, her braids were wild around her head. She was completely undone. It was the first time he had ever seen his perfectly prim mate like this. Absolutely beautiful.
“Can you go again?” He asked, his voice rough.
“Huh?” She looked surprised. “Can you?”
He chuckled, pulling his upper cock free. His lower cock had already re-hardened. He notched it at her entrance, using his grip on her thighs to keep her parted for him.
“I’m not nearly done with you,” he promised, pushing the first knob into her hole. So long as he was using his cocks alternately, he would be able to keep going for a while.
He wondered if she could keep up or if he would break her mind.
He honestly didn’t mind which.
Chapter 26
Shoshana
She was dead.
She had been fucked to death.
What a glorious way to die. Let her eulogy reflect she had gone out exactly how she wanted. Dicked down to a puddle, discovered nirvana, and left to ascend to the heavens on high.
Heaven felt remarkably like Rizor’s bed. Laid out on her belly, sore in the best way, not even a hint of energy left to power the cells of her body. She wasn’t asleep, but she was floating, not a thought in her head, enjoying the wonderful afterglow of divine inducing sex.
Rizor had dicks that wouldn’t quit, and the stamina to match it. She lost track of how many times he brought her to orgasm, but she did know that she tapped out before him. He picked her up out of the bed and cleaned her of the seed that he had covered her in. Then, he kept hold of her as he replaced the bedding. The ones they had soaked and ruined were sent off for cleaning, and soft, warm, fresh ones took their place. He readjusted his nest with one hand, then gently laid her in it.
And there she stayed. Right where he left her. Moving only when he laid down next to her and his weight sinking into the bed made her shift slightly towards him.
She thought maybe they had fallen asleep at some point, but it was deep and dreamless and faded seamlessly with her drifting consciousness. Distantly, she became aware of a light pressure on her back, tracing nonsense shapes with a dull point.
“What is this?”
Rizor’s voice was extra rumbly and sleepy. He wasn’t bellowing – or maybe her nerves had been completely blown out by pleasure and weren’t responding properly to it right now – but he sounded sexy and delicious all the same.
“Wha’ is wha’?” She mumbled, eyes still closed, body still limp.
“You’ve a tattoo, tsaria. I must admit, I’m a bit surprised.”
“Oh, tha’…”
“What is this drawing of? It looks like a creature of some kind. It has eyes.”
“Mm-hm…”
“Fangs.”
“Mm-hm…”
“Scales…”
“Yeah.” She turned her head to look towards him. Opening her eyes seemed to require so much strength that she didn’t want to gather. “It’s a dragon.”
“A dragon?”
“Mm-hm… A, erm, western style dragon. I think. It’s a mythical creature. Symbolizes strength and power.”
“It looks like a ratchi.”
She chuckled. “Yeah. A bit. A bit more quadrupedal than you, muzzle is a little different, but close enough.”
“I like it,” he rumbled. She felt him move before the warm wetness of his tongue was sliding up her back, over her shoulder, where the tattoo rested.
Shoshana had gotten that tattoo ages ago. Technically, before she was even legally old enough to get a tattoo. A friend of hers did them out of her house under the table, and she was actually a pretty good artist. In hindsight, it had been a stupid choice, and Shoshana had just been begging to get some kind of staph infection, but at the time it had been cheap and readily available.
After all these years, the black lines were probably near faded to nothing. She hadn’t even seen the thing in probably close to a decade at this point. At times, it was easy to forget that she even had it.
But Rizor’s claw as he traced along the old lines brought the image back to sharp relief in her memories. A big, black dragon, mouth open, roaring out of her skin, claw reaching forward as though to strike. She hadn’t included the body or the wings, the head and claw had been enough for a human to understand the creature’s full form without more. But she could see how it could just look like a particularly violent and barbaric ratchi.
“As though fate had marked you just for me,” Rizor said nuzzling her ink drawing. “Do you have any others?”
Grunting, discovering that her muscles could in fact still function, she rolled over so she could look him in his strange, yellow eyes.
“No. That’s it. For now.”
His dragon-ish head tilted curiously. “For now?”
“Well, ratchi females get marks every time they lay an egg, right?”
“Hatch an egg. Not all eggs are fertilized,” he corrected her on autopilot, his mind clearly having caught on something else. “You thinking about laying for me, Shoshana?”
“A girl has to consider all potential possibilities when thinking about her future,” she said neutrally, trying to hide her grin at his obvious excitement. “I’m still debating getting a tattoo versus the scars. Or would that be insulting?”
He chuckled, running his hand down her hip, her thigh. “The type of mark doesn’t matter, so long as you can display it proudly for all to see.”
She let her gaze move to his arm. Over the clavas scar interwoven through the scales of his bicep, shoulder, and part of his upper chest.
There were other scars. They didn’t take any form she could recognize, simple tribal in style, but she imagined that was due to the necessity of having them sliding around various scales. They must prevent the application of a true picture.
Or maybe those were glyphs. Letters in his language that she just couldn’t recognize. She had no way to know. Either way, they were beautiful, and rough to the touch as she discovered when she ran her fingers along the ones on his chest.
“My father’s memorial,” Rizor explained as she touched one along his flank. “It’s common to scar yourself in memory of deceased loved ones.”
“Humans do that too,” she said. “I almost got one for my grandparents.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Because she had been sent to jail, and she hadn’t been able to find anyone in there she trusted to put a needle anywhere near her. She didn’t tell him that. Rizor still didn’t know about her past, and she wanted to keep it that way.
