Yvraine awoke first. She became
aware of a crushing weight laying upon her back, and was startled
momentarily before remembering it was Guilliman who laid upon her. Her mind was flooded with hazy memories of the hours of
intense penetration she had laboriously enjoyed with Robu before the two
had been rendered unconscious. Her face flushed red with embarrassment
and arousal, particularly when her memories of begging to be impregnated
flashed by. I will have to apologize for such uncouth forwardness, she
thought to herself.
She wiggled slightly beneath Guillliman,
attempting to find a more comfortable position to rest in until her
unintentional captor reawoke, only to realize, through a sudden shift of
hard flesh thrust deep within her womanhood, that she was still
thoroughly filled by Guilliman’s other Hand of Dominion. The shift was
somewhat painful, as her passage was not fully lubricated anymore, being
coated in far less of Guilliman’s Mercy now, and she had shrunk
somewhat in capacity since her arousal had faded. Still, the sudden
remembrance of the Imperator class cock she was impaled upon
filled her with a sudden heat, causing her face to fully shoot bright
red, like a warning lumen, and her mind began to race with lewd
intentions.No, I must remain proper and composed! She thought, even as blood flow and hormonal responses caused her overcrowded genitals to flood with lubricating emissions. Her feral thoughts were becoming hard to ignore, and she decided to nip the problem in the bud. I need to find a way out from under him before I lose control, she thought, searching around her for some way out from under the immense mass of her superhuman lover.
She formed arcane sigils within the air, causing two half-real rods to appear before her hands, rooted in place to the very fabric of realspace itself. Gripping them tightly, she pulled herself forward, causing Guilliman’s Gladius Incandor to shift again, this time seemingly stimulated by the movement and newfound wetness, as it started to slowly swell.
Is he not at his full girth?! She thought, a distant panic invading her mind. She paused, her hands still tightly gripping the bars she had formed as a means of escape. Her mind slipped again, as it had the first time she’d felt his complete immensity within her. She was quickly losing her awareness of anything other than the pillar of bliss she was currently mounted upon.
Perhaps… just one more orgasm would be okay… She thought, as she began rolling her hips in an attempt to please herself in such a confined space. After a few minutes of struggling and squirming, she’d found a position and arc of rotation she could employ that would bring her to climax, and hopefully clear the fog from her mind, with haste and efficiency. Using the rods, once an escape vector, she braced herself against Guilliman’s holy inquisition and began her conquest.
By Ynnead, he’s so… enthralling… she thought to herself, her mind clouded by the scent of his pheromones permeating her skin and the completeness of his girth permeating her belly. She gripped the warp stuff bars tighter, rolling her entire torso in a wave of motion, bringing her hips down, forward, up, back, and down again, her teardrop breasts, toned stomach, and flawless back becoming coated in sweat from the effort. She panted, the heat of Roboute’s immense physical form, and her own exertions, causing steam and condensation to form around her. The cold climate controlled air of Guilliman’s study became more theoretical than practical to her.
She glanced to the side, and caught her reflection in a polished bronze shield hanging on the wall beside the work table. She had a fairly excellent view of herself, as Guilliman’s massive, muscular arms were laid before him, a cushion his regal head rested upon. She saw the gyrations of her body in the mirrored shield, and found herself flush with embarrassment and arousal.
I’d be a fool to get caught like this, she thought, even as her thrusts become quicker and deeper. Watching herself in the mirror, seeing the ease with which such an immense manhood disappeared deep within her and the way her breasts spilled out from beneath her chest, squashed by her prone body…
She let out a sound that was halfway between a whimper and a growl as another explosion of endorphins rushed through her, originating from her swollen clit and pounding outward, another wave of joy for every contraction of her overstuffed pussy.
As the second wave hit, she pushed against the warp handles, shoving herself all the way down his shaft, causing the third wave to hit with the intensity of a solar flare. Her eyes rolled, and her mouth hung open. She made eye contact with herself in the mirror, panting and shivering and moaning. Disgust rushed through her mind, and it did nothing to prevent the next wave of orgasmic pleasure from thundering out across her nerves.
“I… I’m s-so p-.... pathetic…” She moaned, in a desperate attempt to pull herself together. There was a growing wetness around her hips, and she realized she’d squirted yet again. She buried her face in the crook of her elbow, her panting turning into sobbing as the orgasm continued to batter her weakend mind.
After what felt like an eternity of anguished ecstacy, her orgasm finally subsided. She continued panting, which turned into soft sobbing and sputtering that went on for some time, until she felt Guilliman shift above her. Panic flooded through her as she fell dead silent and she wondered what he’d do to her if he woke up furious with her seduction.
His right arm moved out from under his head, his chest shifting slightly, and his hand slid under her. “R-Robu?” she murmured, trying to catch her breath. There was no response. The steady double-beat of his great binary hearts had not changed, nor had the rate at which he took in or expelled breath. She gently reached out with her psychic powers, to brush her mind against his. She was overwhelmed momentarily by base sensations, smell, hearing, touch… she felt her pussy from his perspective, its tightness wrapped around her cock… his cock.
He’s still asleep… she thought. The idea of a demigod slumbering was odd to her, yet here one was, lost deep in the mists of dreams. She felt an odd desire to reach further into his mind, to see what a deity dreams of, but she restrained herself. If he woke up to her psychic proddings, he would not be very forgiving to her, and she did not wish to incur his wrath in that manner. However…
Just feeling his base senses couldn’t hurt… she rationalized to herself, as she laid out her mind against his, the tendrils of her psychic power invisibly reaching out and blanketing his surface-level sensations in a cloak of her thoughts. She was now attuned to him, and it filled her with a perverse glee, as if she were spying upon a man bathing. She felt every inch of her own interior through his mind, and it made higher thought even harder for her.
She rolled her hips, and was filled with not only the sensation of displacement native to her flesh, but the sensation of his foreskin as it rolled back across the head of his cock with her taught wetness pressed upon it from all sides. Her eyes widened, and she saw herself in the mirror again.
It was an odd, overwhelming sensation, as she was being defined by not just her own spatial awareness, but his as well. She watched her movements with an overwhelming desire, as though she were a predator watching her own body from the bushes.
By Ynnead… she thought, Is this how all my suitors see me? She was no stranger to the beauty of the female form, as she had entertained more than a few lovers of the fairer sex, but she had never seen herself in that way. The cathartic sensation of validated egotism flooded her brain, and her black painted lips pulled back into a broad, simpleton's grin. Her movements picked back up, and she found herself stupefied.
His hand, gently cradling her belly… their hand, their belly… the way their cock penetrated and filled them… She found it harder and harder to distinguish “her” from “him” the longer she held her mind against his. She felt a hand tighten slightly around a waist, a cock harden slightly in anticipation of orgasm, a womanhood pulse as it was drawn to climax, and then…
Her mind shattered. Cum flooded a womb, an abdomen pulsed with feminine contractions, skin was slick with sweat, the hand tightened its grip, and hips moved. She was no longer in control, and was just along for the ride, as the majesty of a kingly column roughly penetrated a whorish elf cunt, superhuman hips pounding away against a pinned prize.
She looked into the mirror, made eye contact, and felt just grounded enough to realize what was happening. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her makeup running with it, as Robu’s hips rocked away, with the gentle but unstoppable rhythm of an ocean tide. She felt every inch of herself through him, and she felt…
I want to breed you, she thought, looking at herself. I want you to bear my child… She shook with every thrust, her tight ass bouncing every time his hips slammed home. She tried to pull away from his still-slumbering mind, but found herself reluctant to. I want to own you… she thought, staring into her own eyes, her mouth closed around her forearm, small beads of blood forming around the bite marks.
Any chance she may have had to pull away from his mind was crushed under the weight of their next mutual orgasm. The thunder of a small, singular heart rushed in her ears, even as two immense, ponderous beats nearly drowned out the hummingbird rhythm with their own explosive report every few seconds. She was half asleep, half awake, half human, half eldar, but the one universal truth she did feel was pleasure. She felt long ropes of cum pour through her, spraying geneseed out of her womanhood as it became overfilled, nectar of victory leaking out around the tight seal created by his cock.
By Ynnead, I shall bear this man’s child! She thought, her brain hindered by her own animalistic desire to procreate, ancient genetic edicts instilled in her species by creators long dead, an impulse that was overriding any sense, logic, or intellect she could have possibly brought to bear to defend herself from the primitive motives. Her mind slipped away into its own state of near-consciousness, and all she felt, for what could have been an eternity, was two bodies becoming one in mutual ecstacy.
Her bliss was cut short, however, by a psychic spike deftly cutting her mind from his with the grace and precision of a surgeon. Suddenly she was her, and he was him. She was beneath him, cut off from his senses, his essence, and so she was filled with despair. Her brain was brought back into its full function, and she saw herself again in the mirror, writhing beneath him as he pumped away at her, his eyes still closed, still completely asleep.
Woman, what are you doing?! A familiar voice rang through her mind, reaching out through the warp. She sensed the origin, another Eldar, an aide of hers, standing mere meters away. She sighed, and her motions slowed, even though Robu’s did not.
Diplomacy. She replied, her message sent out as a needle-like spike. She got back a simple wave of disgust and disappointment followed by a simple question, Are you well? She closed her eyes, trying to calm her fury, and replied, I am excellent. I will call for you when I need you.
The crackling report of a teleport sounded in the room, and the second eldar presence was gone. She probed back towards the Lord Commander’s mind, and began to rock her hips again. She wrapped her mind around his once more, allowing herself to indulge that intoxicating shared sensation again. Unfortunately, in her lustful fog, she clumsily pawed too deeply within his mind, and the giant stirred above her.
Damn, she thought, withdrawing her mind from his, feeling his grip around her waist tighten, and his breathing increase in depth and frequency. She felt the roll of his hips slow, his Imperial might coming to a stop deep within her. She remained still and silent, and felt his weight lift off her as he looked around, grunting in confusion. “Oh! Yvraine! I… I apologize. Oh… Oh my… I did not realize that I… I’m sorry…” he said with surprise and embarassment.
She cut him off, saying, “Need you apologize if I instigated it?” Her mouth curled back into a smile, her ruined makeup caking her cheeks, and she stared at the two of them in the mirror. He had lifted his torso off her, resting his weight on his forearms, with his right hand beneath her, propping her belly up off the surface of the table as her own arms acted as a cushion for her head, allowing her breasts to rest upon the table in a manner that made her heart race.
His cock was still sheathed entirely within her, his hips pressed hard against her shapely ass. His wall of steely abdominal muscle, along with the thick bands of muscle that ran across his hips, ass, and thighs, were fully flexed, keeping him frozen in place and his enormous thunder hammer encased within her.
He was stuttering, searching for words. He’s cute when he’s flustered, she thought. Her eyes continued to run along his reflection, admiring his rather prodigious buttocks, muscled to perfection, forming a round, beautiful dome atop his legs, which were themselves proof of humanity’s superiority.
Why did I ever fuck Eldar men? she wondered, as her gaze drifted forward, lingering on his statuesque arms, shoulders, and chest, built as though they were chiseled from marble by a lustful sculptor. Finally her eyes found his face, beautiful in its perfection and flushed red with embarrassment.
“Were you having a pleasant dream?” She asked him, a smug look on her face. He paused for a minute, his mouth half-open in a particularly unstatesman-like manner. He stuttered out a response, “W-well, uh… Yes. Yes I… I was.” Yvraine giggled, her eyes surveying the reflection of the puddle of gene seed and eldar emissions that surrounded her hips.
“I was rather shocked to be woken up so lewdly, Lord Commander,” she said, “but to be honest, I’d let you take me anywhere, and anytime.” She smiled as the redness in his face grew brighter, and stopped smiling as he pulled his immense cock out of her, his invigorating loads pouring out with it.
“Well, I’m pleased that I managed to thoroughly entertain you, Miss Yvraine, but I think we should get back to our… other negotiations.” Yvraine rolled her eyes and pouted, grumbling, “If I just agree to your terms, will you go back to entertaining me?” She rolled over onto her back, stretching and moaning as her joints popped and aching muscles flexed.
Her thighs, stomach, and womanly accommodations glistened with a lurid sheen, and a pearl of his genetic material had gathered at her entrance. Her hair, damp in places, was also partially tangled around her body, like a blanket wrapped around a restless sleeping form.
Her left hand covered her mouth as she yawned, and her right hand drifted down towards her nethers. She touched herself briefly, smiling with the joy of seeing Guilliman leaning over her, frozen in lust, staring at her every move.
She brought her hand back up, fingers coated in his gene seed, and she licked it from her hand. It tasted strongly of metal and wine, like drinking from a copper goblet. She sighed in pleasure, and Guilliman quietly said, “I think we could make such an arrangement work.”
Yvraine smiled and laughed, leaning forward, her hands pressed flat against the tabletop, and her breasts pushed together by her arms. “I have conditions,” Yvraine said.
Guilliman, having moved off the table and stood up, asked, “What are your terms?” Yvraine straightened her back, kneeling now, and said, “I want to ride you before I leave.” Guilliman sighed, looked over at a chronometer across his study, grimaced slightly, and then, after pausing for a moment, said, “Very well. But I’d prefer we do so somewhere more comfortable,” and he gestured to an enormous chair beside the table, made of ancient dark wood and padded with exquisite Ultraman cushions.
Yvraine held up a manicured finger and said, “I do have an important question for you first, though. What did you mean when you shouted, ‘I’ve found the Queen of Ultramar!’” Yvraine did a mocking impression of his voice, roaring loudly as she did.
Rouboute froze in place for a moment, before responding, “What did you mean when you asked me to ‘Use you for heirs’?” His eyes narrowed. For a moment, it was Yvraine’s face that reddened.
Quickly regaining her composure, she quietly replied, “Honestly, I… it was a throes of passion sort of… I was lost in the moment…” she trailed off.
Guilliman chuckled. She laughed as well. Guilliman leaned forward and lifted Yvraine, holding closely in his arms. Though the action surprised Yvraine, she didn't resist it. She pressed her face against his chest.
When Guilliman reached the chair and sat down, Yvraine adjusted herself to get above his member and descended upon it, excited to feel whole again.
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