by Loki Renard
“And where would the sport be in that? When you hunt elkor, there is no honor in picking them off from the air. You must go down on foot, draw bow and arrow. You must play the game the way they are playing, or there is no point. A hunt is much more than a capture or a kill.”
“So you are going to wander around this planet as a human might?
“I can pass as a human easily enough,” Archon replied. “A larger, stronger, more powerful human, but more or less.”
“You will have to be fully clothed all the way to the neck,” Naxus said. “You will have to wear a hat at all times.”
“Maybe. Or maybe if they see my scales they will think I have tattooed myself. Pierced myself. They are all so desperate to look individual. They will think I am a freelance warrior.”
Naxus looked very much taken aback. It was clear he had expected Archon to be upset about his prey’s rebellion and subsequent hell-raising, but if anything she had simply made it all the more fun. This was an amusement to the king, a much needed break from the tedium of pretending to care about the minutiae of state. He would leave the percentages to Matematicus. The prey was his.
“Sire. All due respect, I don’t think you will have much success with that approach.”
“I know what she looks like. I know which direction she went in. I have hunted targets where I did not know so much as a name.”
“You don't know her name either. It’s Iris, by the way. You will be very much at a disadvantage.”
“I already have significant advantage over this prey. I have physical power, and the resources of a king. What does she have?”
“Human wit, cunning, the advantage of this world being her home…” Naxus paused for a moment. “And a lack of arrogance.”
“Are you calling me arrogant, Naxus? We do not know one another that well.” Archon’s expression became feral, vicious, and utterly imperious besides.
“I, er…”
“I am going to hunt the girl. I do not deserve to be king if I cannot survive here alone.”
Chapter 10
Iris managed to evade the hands and intentions of the drunk farmers on that first night, and set off on a tour of every tavern, hen house, dog house, out house, and indeed, normal house which was within her ability to reach via foot or by hitch-horse.
People needed to know who they were really serving. The king was not untouchable. Even with his fiery dragons and his floating buildings and his plumes of destruction, he was a creature of flesh and blood.
“I made him bleed with this knife!" She declared, raising her blade to a tavern full of people who were mostly listening to her. Having delivered her message many times over, she was starting to get the hang of it. Showing the knife was a high point, because the king’s blood had dried upon it in a golden sheen which made the blade glow in an ethereal sort of way. People usually cheered when she did that. They cheered this time too, a drunk, happy sort of sound.
But something was wrong. The crowds were often lewd, rude, and skeptical at first, but the feeling she got from them was almost always harmless. Not tonight, though. Tonight, she felt eyes on her from across the bar. Iris was used to lascivious looks. They irritated her, but did not make the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. This was different. This was a stare which penetrated a jolly crowd, and cut through the people who passed back and forth across its line of sight.
“Anyway, so, don’t pay your taxes!” She shouted to the crowd before disappearing into it.
She had already paid three silver for a bed upstairs. The feeling in her belly gave her reason to pull her cloak around her shoulders and the hood up over her head, and slip away amid the general chaos of the conversation.
This was fine by her. Slipping away after her speeches had become her modus operandi. She did not want to become the focus of the rebellion. She wanted the movement to swell up around her and take on a life of its own, form a wave of change which would sweep the king away forever.
Archon had tried to violate her. He had destroyed her family. She could not hate anything or anyone as much as she hated him. And she would never rest until her people were free of his alleged rule.
She felt someone behind her as she ascended the stairs. As soon as she was in her room, she would bolt the door securely and be safe. The trip there was the most dangerous part. If she was caught on the stairs. Nobody would notice her screaming amid the general carousing of the pub.
“Where are you going?”
The words came from a stranger who appeared at the top of the stairs ahead of her. Iris felt the presence behind her turn and bugger off fairly quickly. Whatever minor predator had decided to follow her up from the bar gave way to the bigger one at the head of the stairs.
She could not see much of the figure. It was dark up there. Someone had put the lights out deliberately, she thought. Her instincts and basic common sense told her this was bad news. She turned around to go back down to the pub, but a hand reached out from the cloak, and took hold of her, dragging her into her room faster than she could scream.
She struggled and fought, but the stranger was far stronger than her, and as it turned out, infinitely taller. He had been hunched over the entire time, apparently hiding his height.
The moment they were in the room and he had used the bolts which were supposed to keep her safe to trap her inside, he threw the cloak from his shoulders with a dramatic swirl.
“YOU!”
The word burst out of Iris with all the power of a curse. For some bizarre reason she could not understand, she was almost relieved to see that it was not a random robber.
It was the monster. Archon. The alien king himself had followed her to the remote tavern in the wilderness and apparently sat and listened to everything she had said over the last hour.
She blushed, embarrassed though she had no reason to be. Every word out of her mouth had been the truth. Still, it was a little awkward to be caught in the act of rebellion.
He could have done anything. He could have set the building alight with her and everyone else inside. But instead he’d chosen to sit among the people, listen to her, and then capture her up in her room where nobody would hear her scream.
There was some strange mercy in his actions, or perhaps he was waiting to exact a cruel private revenge. Those blue glittering eyes did not give away any of his secrets as they drank her in with dark rimmed satisfaction.
“They said I wouldn’t be able to find you,” he said conversationally. "That your trail was too random, that you were too small and insignificant to be worth my time.”
“So why did you bother?”
“You have been telling tales about me,” the king smirked. “And you stabbed me.”
“You were trying to fuck me,” she hissed. “You deserved to be stabbed. You’re nothing more than a filthy murderer. I am going to make sure that everybody knows it, even if I have to tell each and every person on this planet individually.”
“If only there were some means to communicate in a wider way, some sort of net of communication which every human could access via a shining stone,” the king mused, a dimple on his cheek indicating some kind of reckless mischief Iris did not understand, and was not interested in understanding.
In spite of her brave words and stance, Iris was deeply afraid of this creature, for he was not a man, and certainly barely a king. The last time they had been in touching distance, he had tried to ravage her. She did not think the stabbing trick would work twice.
“What are you going to do? Kill me? Ravage me?”
“Seduce you,” Archon smiled, his face transformed with rakish charm.
Iris let out a choking laugh of disbelief. This king was as delusional as he was handsome.
“I would never let you seduce me after what you did. You killed my father. You slew my brothers. You destroyed my mother, and all my extended family besides.”
The king folded his arms over his broad, scaled chest. Did he ever wear a shirt? She was thoroughl
y distracted by the bulging of his musculature, and the way he looked at her. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was the most evil creature she had ever encountered, Iris would have given herself to him without question. She could still remember the way his cock felt against her pussy, how big and thick and hard it was, impossibly alien and yet somehow designed to fit inside her anyway.
“What if I told you that I did not take a single life that day. Every single one of your family members is safe somewhere they cannot cause any more trouble. You are the last one left, and once I have thoroughly fucked you, you will be going to join them in captivity.”
“No!” Iris reached for the nearest thing to hand, which happened to be a small wooden bust of a woman who had been declared a saint. Saint Gertrude of Tisspoon was surprisingly heavy, and made quite a satisfying THUNK when she bounced off the king’s head.
However, Gertrude’s statue did nothing to stop the dangerous, leering monarch from advancing on her with a predatory gaze which made her heart thunder in her chest and ears, blocking out the rest of the sounds of the world.
He grabbed her wrist and flung her down on the bed, a soft landing after a rough capture. Face down, Iris had less than a second to consider her predicament before a massive clawed hand, fully extended, tore the back of her dress from her body in a single snatching motion, baring her back and buttocks to the monarch’s gaze.
“How lovely,” he growled. “You look as pure naked as you do clothed.”
Now it all made sense. ’Seduce’ meant ‘take by force’ when it came from the king’s lips.
Chapter 11
Trapped in his grasp, Iris’ skin was rising in those little bumps humans were known for, an attempt of an ancient system for raising the fur they’d once had all over their bodies to either hold heat or look larger than they actually were.
Archon looked at his captive, and liked what he saw. There was a soft and pleasant fullness to her hips and thighs, a kind of vulnerability she was obviously loathe to show.
He liked that he had uncovered a view which many had desired, but none had gained. There was a hallowed nature to the moment, a kind of rare preciousness which made him pause.
At first, Archon had planned to fuck her and send her on her way. It had not been a particularly satisfying hunt. He had been forced to track her from tavern to tavern and hear the most egregious nonsense pouring out of common faces in her wake. He had discovered that Naxus was right. This little troublemaker was all too close to starting a real rebellion which would sweep the entire world and require a great deal of troops, time, and resources to quell. There would be deaths. Real deaths, and many of them if she was not taught a thorough lesson.
“You’ve led me on a merry little chase, human, but it has come to an end now, and the bounty must be paid. I am told you have caused great damage with your actions, stirring up these peasants against those who are richer than they are. That’s a high crime in any realm.”
“Stop calling me human,” she snarled into the bedding. “My name is Iris. I am the daughter of the chief you killed.”
“How poetic,” the king smirked. “Your father defied my will, broke my law, and caused me to come all the way to this pathetic little corner of my kingdom. Now you carry on his work, even at the risk of your own virtue.”
“You want to fuck me, fuck me,” she hissed. “You can do what you want to my body. It’s too late for you to stop what I started. I don’t care what happens to me.”
She clearly meant every single word. Again, her bravery astounded Archon. It would have been easy to yank her thighs apart and sink himself inside her. Face down, she was completely vulnerable.
But he found himself not wanting to force himself on her. He found himself wanting to do something far more devious. It would mean nothing if he simply took her. It would mean everything if he convinced her to give herself to him.
Instead of plunging his erect cock into her tight sex, Archon instead put his mouth between her thighs, his palms on the cheeks of her ass, and his tongue against that elusive slit of hers. She made a pleasing sound, wriggling her sex against his mouth, delighting him with the delicately scented juices of arousal her body produced at his touch.
“I hate you,” she growled into the bedding.
He responded by flickering his tongue against the little bud hiding at the apex of her inner lips, and reveled in the moan she released against her will. This human was attracted to him. He was certain of it.
“I’m going to do so much more than stab you. Next time I’m going to take your fucking head…oooooh!”
That was the sound of his tongue penetrating her pussy, her angry squirming only serving to stimulate them both.
He tongue fucked her slowly, letting her curse and squirm. The closer she got to orgasm, the more she swore, until there was nothing but a string of profanities issuing from her lips, along with moans and grunts.
She came, shaking and shuddering, but Archon did not stop. He was not interested in one petty orgasm. He wanted to make her have a whole set of them, over and over. So he returned his tongue to that sensitive clit of hers, flicking it lightly as she wailed for clemency.
“Ask me to fuck you, and I’ll stop making you come,” he told her. "The only way out of torturous orgasm is to give me that tight cunt of yours.”
“Fuck you, and fuck me!” She cried out in surrender.
Archon did not need to be asked again.
Turned on her back, Iris looked up at the intimidating king who was going to claim her as no male ever had before.
His cock was free, rampant, and frighteningly large - an appendage even more alien than the rest of him. She had seen the cocks of men before, fleshy things which sometimes went hard, but for the most part hung flaccid and unfrighteningly in front of their thighs. Iris had wondered if she was even attracted to men, so unremarkable were the cocks of the village men.
The king’s rod gave her an instant and most remarkable sensation of fear mixed with rampant attraction. He was hard, and he was long. The flesh of his cock bore a light scaling, similar to the patterns on his shoulders, neck, and chest.
She had wondered in her travels what it would have felt like if he had fucked her in the forest, if she had not pulled out the knife, if she had instead simply let him ravage her. Iris did not need to wonder very much longer. The king had not disrobed in order to conduct an alien show and tell. That cock was here for her, for the tight hole between her thighs which had been defended all her life, until the king’s flames ripped all protection from her and left her vulnerable.
It shone red and gold, a shifting palette of colors which moved when his body did. That manhood would have been striking enough without the color changing effect, an erotic undulation which started at the base and worked its way to the very tip, which was flared out from a rounded point. This thing was designed to find its way within a woman, to pierce to the core of her and to inseminate her with the seed held in the big royal balls which hung behind the cock, as prominent and remarkable as the rod itself.
“That’s right, my little human. Look upon the mightiness of my royal rod, and know that you will not be spared it.”
She lay there, waiting for him to plunge inside her, tear her open, make her his sexual thrall. But Archon surprised her again, pointing to the rug at his feet.
“On your knees.”
He made the command and she followed it. Disobedience would obviously lead to punishment. He would make her climax and beg and then she would end up doing as he told her to anyway.
This close to the king, she could not help but be caught up in his royal presence. He had charisma and a certain powerful gravitas which spoke to the parts of her mind which resisted logic and instead defaulted to animal truths. This male, this alien, he had been born to rule. It was written in every arrogant, dangerous line of his handsome face.
She had not come up particularly tall against him when she was standing upright. On her knees, she was at even more of a
disadvantage, though admittedly, far closer to the object of her interest, that scaled alien cock which was flaring a deeper golden red now that she had obeyed.
“I thought you’d be harder to break,” Archon said, casually gripping her by the back of the head and pulling her mouth down onto his dick without so much as a by your leave.
Iris’ lips parted as much in surprise as obedience. The king’s cock slid between her lips and over her tongue in one long, powerfully suggestive stroke which made the nether regions of her body tingle.
He pulled it out and held the tip at her lips, looking down at her with a smirk which was every bit as arrogant as it was triumphant.
“I’ve never been with a human before,” he told her. “Never had the interest. Always thought you were too soft. But you’re more than soft. You’re hot, and every hole you have is nice and wet for me, isn’t it?”
How did he know? Iris felt her face turning bright red, much like the king’s cock changed color, but for different reasons. She thought she had managed to retain the secret of her response to him, that she could pretend to be defiant, or at the very least, uninterested. If he was going to claim her, she would at least retain her dignity. Or at least, so she had thought.
“I can smell you,” he growled, pushing his cock back into her mouth. “I can smell that cunt of yours, the lubrication you’re producing because your body knows it is in the presence of a male who is going to fuck you long and hard, until you scream for mercy and beg for more all at the same time.”
The moan she made might have been one of shame, or one of anticipation and arousal. It was impossible to tell, even in the confines of her own spinning mind.
This king was having an unpredictable effect on her. He was making her want that which she did not want, causing her to desire the very thing she hated most. He was loathsome, cruel, arrogant, her greatest enemy. And he was also everything she wanted with a desire which frightened her. He was right. From the moment he’d cornered her, she’d started to produce the slick liquid of feminine desire. Her body was preparing to be claimed by the king, and as much as she wanted to deny it to him, to herself, to the world as a whole, she could not.