As two of his fingers dove into Michaela’s warmth, he rubbed her clit with his thumb. His other hand stroked up and down on her cock, his mouth following its path over hot, smooth skin.
She jerked and yelled under his assault. Her body quaked as desire wrapped itself about her, shooting through her. Korkla continued to thrust inside while taking her straining cock deep and releasing it once more. He loved the saltiness of her skin. Her aroma wafted about him as she gushed wetness around his diving fingers.
Michaela’s cries rose and fell as he worked her desperate flesh. Her body writhed in the throes of powerful sensation, one moment greeting him, the next trying to move away as it was overwhelmed. She could never move far, not with him holding her down, subservient to his power. He delighted in her erotic torment, making her harder and wetter with every passing moment.
Pretty little boy-woman, you will come screaming for me. It’s what I want, and it’s what you will give me.
His being drank in the strength Michaela allowed him to feel. Korkla exulted in it.
He pulled hard on her cock, sucking strongly, as if to pull her seed right out of her. Michaela’s breath caught. As his hand went to the base of her, brushing up against her scrotum, he felt her balls draw up tight to her body. She was on the brink now. She was going to climax at his demand.
“Korkla!” Michaela cried. “I’m – I’m coming!”
Yes, because I want you to. Your amazing, perfect body belongs to me. You have given it to me, and I want it to surrender now.
She was succumbing. Michaela had reached the point of no return. Her body had given up the fight, the cum raced through her prick now, releasing, exiting her jerking cock...
Fluid exploded in furious bursts from Michaela’s cock. She yelled, her entire body stiff as if galvanized. Korkla’s hand rubbed up and down her shaft, coaxing every last expulsion he could from her. She must give him everything.
He did not let up until she laid limp and weeping in the aftermath. Only then did he release her prick.
“There, my beauty,” he sighed. “That was very nice to start with.”
Michaela moaned, as if to beg him for mercy. However, Korkla’s cocks ached to be surrounded by her flesh. She would not deny his gratification.
He pulled his wet fingers from her font. Slippery from her juices, he found it easy to push his index finger into the puckered entrance of her anus. Michaela whimpered, but offered no resistance as he worked to stretch her tightest opening. Feeling the snugness there, knowing how good it was going to feel around his secondary cock, Korkla groaned.
Raxstad might have been out of commission for a good part of Korkla’s absence, but it was obvious Govi had been enjoying their Matara. It wasn’t long before Korkla pressed a second finger into Michaela’s ass. She was pliant in short order, ready to be taken.
In more ways than one. As he’d stretched her back passage, Korkla’s mouth had gone to work on her pussy, eagerly lapping the female juices that flowed with no inhibition. The quality of her moans had changed as well, going from whimpered tone to that of full-throated eagerness.
At last he judged her to be fully prepared. Korkla rose, no longer pinning her down to the lounger. He grasped her legs and settled them on his shoulders.
“Keep them there,” he ordered Michaela, his gaze running over her bound arms, her clothing in disarray, and at her wide brown eyes staring at him as he looked down on her.
* * * *
Even if Korkla had not tied her down, Michaela would have been pinned helpless by his stare. Seeing him looming over her, so profoundly in control, made her soft and accepting. There was nothing she could do to keep him from taking what he wanted from her. There was nothing she wanted to do to keep him from taking all that he desired of her.
The Dramok took his cocks in hand. Still staring into her face, his hips lowered, bringing his sexes towards hers. She felt her body strain towards his, eager for the impaling. Her cock, so recently emptied, was hard again and nearing yet another climax. Her entire being prepared for release.
The tapered tips of her lover’s pricks nudged at her pussy and ass. They found their sanctuaries and nestled there, an anticipatory pause before taking their rightful shelters. Then they drove inside, slowly but steadily and with no hesitation.
Michaela arched as Korkla pressed in, interlocking their bodies in one smooth thrust. He did not wait once he had embedded himself within her. He took her as if by divine right, as if her body existed purely to give him the pleasure he craved.
Yet it was not a selfish possession. Even as his hips pumped back and forth, fucking her in increasingly quick thrusts, his firm grip closed on her cock. Again he saw to her needs, even as he sated his own.
Michaela sobbed in delighted abandon as he filled her over and over. The fullness of double penetration, the amazing friction against her pussy’s hotspot, the rhythmic contact between her clit and Korkla’s groin, the constant pulling on her prick ... all these sensations combined into a frenzied rapture of fire that banked higher and higher. Her gasped cries seemed to incite Korkla to move with more force and speed. She burned and blistered and at last ignited. Had she been able to think coherently, Michaela would have expected to see sparks flying from the tips of her toes.
While she boiled under the inferno of Korkla’s lovemaking, she saw the Dramok’s mouth open wide. His fangs unhinged, and then there was a blur of motion. The bite on the side of her neck came so swiftly that Michaela never registered pain.
He screamed against her throat, his cocks still battering inside her as his body shuddered. Michaela convulsed with orgasm, her pussy and cock both spasming with excruciating delight. Even when the last of her seed had exited, her prick continued to jerk between her and Korkla’s bellies.
Then they were quiet for a long time, their bodies too depleted to move. Korkla’s venom fed the euphoria of afterglow, making Michaela feel as if she floated on the border of heaven. For the next hour, there was nothing but goodness in the world. There was no doubt, no fear, no beloved Nobek being shot at, no screaming maniacs where Govi worked, no Feyom. There was only the love of the man smiling at her, kissing her lips, and telling her how beautiful she was.
Chapter 20
The next day Michaela attended the special Royal Council meeting, this time with Korkla’s blessing. At Clan Clajak’s request, Govi was there too in his capacity of psychologist. He was on the council floor, looking on to make sure Jessica and her unborn were not stressed unduly by the proceedings. Raxstad was also in attendance as a part of a small contingent from Global Security. They had been called in to supplement the Royal Guards. It was against doctor’s orders, but Raxstad had reached his limits as far as sitting at home. Besides, no one expected trouble. The additional security was merely a precaution.
As Korkla had said that morning at home, “It’s best to be prepared for anything.”
Michaela stood at the front of the gallery once more. She looked down on the floor where Jessica and Narpok stood at podiums. The rivals answered questions that were supposed to help the citizens of Kalquor decide who would best serve them as their empress.
At the start, it went as Korkla had told Michaela it would. The sense in the gallery was that Jessica was a decent enough woman and not a bad candidate for the crown princes’ clan – but Narpok had already been primed for the duties, she was fertile, and she was Kalquorian.
Michaela eyed her friend’s rival as Councilman Wagnox helped Narpok present her case. The Kalquorian woman was far younger than Feyom. Narpok was pretty in her own right, but she didn’t match Feyom for beauty or sheer presence. In fact, Michaela thought Narpok wasn’t nearly the force to be reckoned with that everyone had told her she was. The would-be princess looked a bit lost ... even frightened at times.
Then, much to everyone’s surprise, things abruptly unraveled for Narpok. It started when Jessica’s council representative Dramok Rajhir found a weakness in Narpok’s assertion that she could physi
cally protect her future children from threats. It turned out she’d once had a massive mental breakdown. It had been after the crash that had crippled Emperor Zarl, robbed the Empire of its empress, and killed three of Narpok’s parents. Narpok’s life had been saved because she’d been encased in the shuttle’s one lifepod, but her inability to function had kept her from going for help to aid the other victims.
Next, Jessica made a tearful testimony of how she’d been horribly injured as a child during a tornado, and yet still managed to save her sister’s life. Michaela could tell it cost her friend to re-live that story. At the end, Jessica broke down in helpless sobs. Yet the point had been made: the Earther was better prepared to handle deadly threats than Narpok.
As Govi and others attended Jessica, Narpok rocked the already chaotic proceedings by renouncing her claim to join Clan Clajak. Then she rushed to the dais where the emperors sat and begged them to protect her from her father Pwaldur and his friends, Clan Wagnox.
Michaela was unsure of what happened next. The men in the gallery began shouting angrily. So did the councilmen on the floor. All at once, the male onlookers stampeded from the gallery. They fought Royal Guards to get down on the floor. Within seconds, riot threatened to break out. Michaela saw Raxstad in the melee, shoving angry Kalquorians away from the shouting Emperor Yuder.
An intense voice spoke over the shouts ringing in her ears. “Michaela, this way. Let me help you.”
Michaela cringed against the glass wall of the gallery, trying to make herself as small as possible since some of the fighting had spread to the inside of the box as well. She looked around for the person who had called to her. A waving hand at the opposite end of the gallery got her attention.
It was Matara Feyom, standing close to an exit. She pushed the smaller, frightened Earther women aside and gestured for Michaela to join her.
“This way, you silly Earther. Come with me.”
Michaela hesitated. The situation was getting worse rather than better, with men beating the hell out of each other all over the place. The gallery exit that would take her down to her clanmates was clogged with battle. She could no longer see any of her clan in the seething melee below. Terror for their well-being filled her heart, but she knew she couldn’t help any of them. Getting in the middle of things could put her, and therefore them, in harm’s way.
She had seen riots back on Earth. Michaela knew how ugly and deadly they could get. She needed to leave the area, even if she couldn’t get to her clanmates. The only other way out was to join the exodus out the door Feyom stood next to.
Michaela crouched down. She wove past the howling men still fighting to get out the door leading down to the council floor. Doubled over, Michaela dashed towards Feyom. The Kalquorian woman smiled to see her coming, a big, toothy grin that suggested she was Michaela’s best friend.
Michaela didn’t trust that smile for a moment, but the fighting could spread. She had no choice but to try to escape. That apparently would mean doing so in Feyom’s company.
As soon as she reached the Kalquorian she asked, “Where does this passage end up?”
“One of the shuttle bays. Come on, girl; we need to get out of here.” Feyom took her arm and pushed against the other women blocking the door. In their panic to escape, they had blockaded it. The jostling at the opening kept most from getting out.
Michaela thought it would have been better to try and calm the others, to get them to evacuate in an orderly manner so that no one got hurt. Feyom had no such care. She indiscriminately yanked some aside and shoved others. She knocked them about like bowling pins, not reacting to cries of pain, pulling Michaela along as she forced her way to the doorway.
“Hey, give them a break,” Michaela shouted, but her voice was lost in the roar of furious battle. The fighting was getting worse rather than calming down.
“Stay there, Michaela! I’m on my way!”
Raxstad’s thunderous roar rose over the chaos. Michaela twisted about to see her Nobek battling his way through the men clogging the other doorway. Close on his heels was Korkla.
Michaela looked back to tell Feyom help was on the way, but the Kalquorian Matara had disappeared. Three Earther women were on the floor, crying and shaken. Michaela wondered if Feyom had been the one to hurt them in her efforts to get through.
Then her Nobek and Dramok were at her side. “Where is Govi? Is Jessica all right?” Michaela asked, frightened for her third clanmate.
“Govi is with Narpok,” Korkla shouted over the din. “He and Jessica are safe. Let’s get you out of here.”
“These women need help,” Michaela told them. “We need to calm them down and get them out of here too. Can they spare you, Raxstad?”
The Nobek snapped a nod. “My priority is the Empire’s most vulnerable citizens. I will see to it these women are protected.”
“We all will,” Korkla affirmed.
The trio started by checking on the women who’d either been trampled or knocked aside. Fortunately, no one was hurt worse than some bruising. Then they worked to calm the frantic Earthers trying to get out, getting them organized so that they could file out of the gallery safely. As Korkla and Michaela soothed them with promises that everything would be all right, Raxstad made sure the rioting men didn’t move in their direction. In less than two minutes, all the women were filing steadily down the stairway to the shuttle bays. Once they were safely away from the fighting, Korkla, Raxstad, and Michaela made sure the women were claimed by their clanmates or collected by taxi services.
At last Korkla was able to take Michaela to his own shuttle while Raxstad, satisfied his clanmates were safe and secure, returned to the council chambers to help his fellow officers regain control of that area. Michaela was afraid to see the Nobek head back that way but knew he had a job to do. She was relieved to know that at least Govi was out of harm’s way and that Korkla was cleared to go home with her.
* * * *
That night after the dust settled, the situation had come to a partial resolution. The riot had resulted in a few injuries but no deaths. Due to Global Security’s involvement, it had been contained to the Government House and not spread throughout the capital city. Some protests had taken place at government locations around Kalquor, but no further violence had ensued.
Councilman Pwaldur and his cohort Councilman Wagnox had escaped. All of Wagnox’s clan had disappeared along with the two men.
It was thought that Narpok had asked for help because Clan Wagnox had been sexually abusing her with her own father’s knowledge and help. That she had begged for protection from all four men was what had set off the fighting in the council chambers. The protective Kalquorian men, incensed that a young woman had been brutally victimized, had been out for Pwaldur and Wagnox’s blood. Had the gallery’s onlookers gotten hold of the two Dramoks, they would have torn the councilmen to pieces.
Just how bad the situation had been for Narpok could not be proven. She had experienced a complete mental breakdown following her plea and was now catatonic. Govi had her hospitalized and was overseeing her care.
Now a massive manhunt was underway for Narpok’s father and Clan Wagnox. Raxstad and Korkla were a part of that effort, which kept them away from home.
At least one good thing had happened out of the mess. Jessica was now the unchallenged Matara of Clan Clajak, the crown princess and future empress of Kalquor. Between her story of saving her sister’s life and Narpok’s breakdown, there was no longer any question in the minds of the Kalquorians who their future fourth monarch should be.
Michaela was left alone in her clan’s big home. She tried to busy herself with meditation and dancing. Yet she was bothered by the question of Matara Feyom more than ever. It ate at her, keeping her from enjoying her alone time.
Michaela didn’t fret over the other woman’s beauty as she wandered her large home. She was convinced that her clan didn’t want Feyom. Yet she brooded about what the Kalquorian had been up to when she tried to get Mic
haela to escape the council gallery with her. What had that been about? Why had Feyom wanted to help Michaela? Surely there had been some purpose, perhaps even a sinister one, behind the gesture. Feyom must have thought she would gain something or she wouldn’t have bothered.
Michaela couldn’t ask her clan about the matter. For one thing, they were all caught up in the aftermath of Pwaldur and Wagnox’s treachery. For another, she didn’t want them to think she still had esteem issues where Feyom was concerned. There was only one way she could think of to get her questions answered.
Her conscience screaming, Michaela went snooping in the men’s rooms, particularly Govi’s. Her Imdiko, being the sentimentalist he was, had more mementos than the other two. Yet there was nothing to be found. Even the picture Michaela had seen of the clan with Feyom no longer existed. Govi had kept plenty of the stills and vids that had embarrassed Korkla and Raxstad, but any images that had included Feyom had been erased.
Michaela was touched. Her Imdiko had gone against his need to preserve every moment of his life with his clan and discarded the pictures that made her feel bad. It also made her feel guiltier than ever about having gone through her clanmates’ personal belongings just to satisfy her curiosity. Her only consolation was that she had not snooped out of distrust of her men.
“You should be ashamed,” she berated herself as she left Govi’s rooms. “Feyom probably had not such nice reasons for wanting to take me with her, but that’s no excuse for my behavior. I’ll bet she was only looking for an opportunity to play more head games. I am going to let this whole nonsense go and never do such a thing again.”
Michaela even considered confessing what she’d done to the men so they could punish her for being such a ninny. Only the fear that they’d be hurt by her prying pushed that notion aside. She wanted penance for sneaking about, however.
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