Earth. That pitiful little planet. It's where humans killed one another over land and power, like children fighting over the last candy. But now it will belong to me. I mean, to us. Thragg's, the Grand Regent's, naturally. He's the chief of the chiefs. And here come the troops—Lucan, Anissa, Kregg, Thula, and all the other Viltrumite warriors in their huge, shiny spaceship, the size smaller then the moon, to demonstrate who rules. The spaceship resembles a huge, shiny dragonfly flying overhead of the moon.
The ship docked and the ramp creaked open. Thragg exited first, walking boldly into the sunlight and his miniature entourage following him. The wicked and proud Viltrumite, Lucan, who perfectly embodies the quintessential Viltrumite form and looks around. With Earth being like the mall to her, Anissa smiles and glances about. General Kregg and the odd and uncommunicative Thula round off his entourage.
The alien subjects have begun constructing the moon base, and it is quite thrilling. Imagine the Death Star combined with a Las Vegas casino, and you get the idea. The alien technology is improving rapidly, almost as if they are playing a game of cosmic Tetris. The moon is receiving a major makeover and it's the best spot in space with a good view—if that view is looking down at the planets you have conquered far away.
I'm preparing within the ship. The Butcher's Voice says to me, "New clothes, new job," as if I'm picking out a prom night dress. The tailor, the one who creates these clothes, presents to me a black uniform that resembles Thragg's very much.
"The Chief Enforcer's uniform," he bows, and I have to grin. It's like wearing The Grand Regent's, but better, okay? It's like it's shouting, "I'm Thragg's little brother!" The waistcloth being so long is a bit excessive, though—I get that Thragg has the big strong king thing going on, and now I have to keep up with that too. There's a loincloth under it in case I have to remove the waistcloth to get my legs moving freely.
"I'm leaving," I tell Thragg, who is standing on the moon's surface when I land behind him. He regards me, and I have no way of knowing what's in his thoughts because his eyes have such a glint in them. "I have my own ways of repopulating."
He nods and smiles slightly. "Go," he says, waving his hand away. "But don't cause any grief, Conquest. I have use for you here."
I never had any intention to begin with I think, as I fly up into space.
Defeating Thragg? No chance right? In those days it was like I was promising to charm a black hole. But everything changed with an Isekei and a System: I actually trained on the largest black hole I could find, and it was TON 618. Months and months I trained in it. The Butcher's Voice was always saying positive things and encouraging me to try the very best I could. And I have to say it paid off. The Conqueror's Ledger System was pushing my stats up faster than a cheat code on steroids.
And I mean it whenever I say I'm stronger then Thragg since I've literally seen it displayed on my HUD. The power circulating my body is this huge river-like thing. My first are quite literally the most poweful weapons in the universe. The System has been generously giving me DP as the supreme gift, with the Brutality Multiplier shooting it through the roof.
And now I find myself in my hideaway place where even the Hubble telescope would require directions from the GPS in order to locate it. Here's where I left my ride. Like a castle on wheels with paint the color darker even than the darkest region in space. It's equipped with more weapons than the average teenage male with a credit card and access to a gun show and travels faster even than a shark on steroids.
My boots echo noisily on the cold metal when I step aboard the ship. My faithful assistants, the insect-as-advanced aliens, scurry rapidly about before the storm. They would never dare disturb me or irritate me. Inside the ship, there's a flurry of action—blinking lights, shining screens, and bellowing aliens in various hues. "The Butcher's Voice," a soft voice in my head, announces, "Welcome home, Conquest. The throne awaits you." I have to admit it's a little amusing.
I stroll through the corridors with the hum of the ships' engines beneath my feet. The layout is clever, such a confusing maze, but with the aid of the HUD, I find it easy to navigate. I enter the room where I anticipate finding her and no surprise—no surprise awaits for me in the room where I find her—bound like a treasure in an ancient dungeon setting. But neither is crying nor begging on her part. The room's occupant simply sits there serenely staring at me with a look of hope in her eyes such as in a soap opera dramatic scene.
Her face lights up when I arrive and actually smiles when I come in. "Back so soon?" she asks breezily. But in her eyes I know there's a desire for something else. It's the belief there's going to be a surprise party and not another discussion on 'living through your alien overlord'
I move slowly, my waistcloth trailing behind me like a hurricane, and crouch so we can stare at one another. "Missed me, Eve?" I say, attempting to be cheerful and somewhat teasing. The System enjoys dramatic surprises, so I play along. She attempts to conceal it, but her large eyes indicate that she is extremely happy.
"Not really," she replies with a forced air of nonchalance. But no one believes her. "But if you're here to free me, I am not going to say no."
Her wrist and ankle chains are large and cumbersome, constructed from Viltrumite metal that's enhanced to remove her powers. They clank when I release each one, like a person who is proficient at dismantling bombs. They drop off, and the air becomes denser, as if I am removing layers of fate. She doesn't budge at first—it's as if she believes that if she does, it will all be a dream.
She then does. Eve pounces on me and I am so surprised I come near to falling over. She is hugging me like I am a favorite toy or something. Her arms around my waist is tight and she is saying something in a quiet voice that I have trouble hearing. But the gist of it is there: she's glad to see me. Glad. The Butcher's Voice in the back of my head ceases for a moment, as if it's amazed. That's not the reaction I would have expected from someone I have imprisoned and who I unwillingly took her sex. But Eve's never been the typical damsel in distress type.
I hug her slowly initiially since I never hug people. Perhaps it is the way her warmth on the outside feels if not on the inside or the fact that she leans on me like I am the last solid thing in a shattered world. "I've missed you." she whispers and actually reaches the heart in me.
I step back and look into her face and then I get it. Oh, the irony. I have hurt her. Not just physically but mentally too. The Butcher's Voice whispered sweet nothings about power and control and getting people to do things for me like they are pawns in a game. And I listened. I played the game so convincingly that she now actually believes she is glad to see me. That she wants this.
But instead of rejoicing in victory, a strange emotion overwhelms me—something like pity. "Are you okay?" I ask, trying to keep the smirk in check that threatens to surface. She nods, with wide and honest eyes. "Will you stay with me?" she asks, her tender and vulnerable voice, so soft.
The Butcher's Voice in my mind goes still, as if busy trying to process this turn of events. It seems it didn't anticipate the human mind being quite so... complex. But frankly, I'm not complaining. "Of course, Eve," I say, patting her head gently as though she's a faithful puppy. "You've been a good girl. I'll spend some time with you."
Her eyes shone with the excitement of a kid on Christmas morning, and before she leaned forward. Her lips, soft to the feel—possibly too soft—brushed against mine with a passion that left a shiver darting down my spine. The System returned to whispering in my ear again, repeating words such as 'dominance' and 'breeding stock,' which helped to reassure. But what really counted was the importance of perpetuating the illusion, her cooperation.
"Eve," I murmur into her lips, pulling back a little to keep her from getting too clingy. "Do you recall Nolan? Omni-Man?" Her eyes fog with doubt, and I can tell she's summoning images of Mark's dad. "That's the one," I answer, a smile cutting across my face, sharp as a knife. "She's why I'm here—the treasure I've really come for."
Her smile fades, and she looks at me as though I had just confessed to hating her favorite TV show. She doesn't register the she instead of the he, however. "But," she starts. I cut her off with a laugh that expresses more of a warning than actual amusement. "Don't get it twisted, sweetheart. You were never going to be the only one."
The Butcher's Voice in my head stirs again, its voice seductive in its tone as it whispers tantalizingly of taking this new Nolan as my own. It already has picked the perfect dress for the dark dance of prom queen and king. "You're going to love her," it grows, like a cat planning to knock over a vase off an invitingly tall shelf. "Shatter her, mold her to your will, and she'll be just like Eve."
I give Eve one last look, one that says 'you're mine and you know it.' And then I bend to press my lips against her forehead—a gesture that looks gentle but instead feels like a stamp, a claiming. Her eyes close, and she melts into the moment like it's the richest feeling she's ever known. It's almost... poignant. But I know I cannot get caught up in it.
"I'll be back," I say softly, and nod to her, who keeps her eyes closed with a smile on her lips. It's disturbing to find her in such a state—like a doll gone mad but still trying to put on the mask of a happy family.
The ship's corridors blur around me as I make my way to Nolan's quarters, the destination throbbing in my HUD like a heartbeat. Finally, I reach the door, which opens with a gentle hiss, revealing her—the girl who will shortly become the next important piece in my complex puzzle. Nolan is chained to the floor, very much like a feral animal trapped inside a cage. She raises her eyes to mine with those electric blue orbs, a gaze full of defiance. But there's more than just defiance in her gaze. Something else bubbles just below the surface, something deep. Fear, rage, hope—they all blend into one seething mass of emotion.
"Hey there," I say lightly, standing with arms crossed and leaning on the wall. "How you doing?"
Her eyes turned into icy blue lasers. "You know perfectly well how," she snarled, her tone stretched tight with tension. "You're a monster."
The word slams into me like a sledgehammer, echoing off the walls of the room. But instead of anger, I feel a glint of... amusement? It's like she'd called a tornado "a little windy."
"Monster," I repeat, rolling the word around on my tongue like a piece of bubblegum. "Is that how you feel about me?"
Her scowl was as sharp as a steel slicer. "You know exactly how I feel about you," she spat, her voice a deadly, low whisper. "My son had every right to kill you with such rage. I was a fool to keep my wits about you."
A rich laugh burst from me, more of a bark than a simple chuckle. "Ah, Invincible... not so Invincible," I said, heavy with sarcasm. "He's got more spirit than I ever credited him with. But let's not get ahead of ourselves here, shall we?" I stepped in closer, my eyes locked intently on her reaction. She tried to hide it, but I saw the way her pupils expanded and her breath was lost. Irresistible Dominance was vibrating in perfect sync. "You know, I almost felt a twinge of sympathy for him when he looked at me like that." I leaned in closer, my voice reduced to a whisper for the next words. "Almost."
And then there are the phrases that have my heart—or whatever organ is the equivalent for the Viltrumites—pounding with excitement. "You've done something to me," she says in her shaking tone with a mixture of anger and emotion I have not yet experienced. Her eyes wander down to the region around my midsection after I have stripped off the waistcloth and indeed Little Conquest proudly rises to attention. It's like he's crashed the bash uninvited.
"Don't bother, Nolan," I tell her, a sly smile uncoiling on the surface of my lips. "You don't need to say anything; it's written all over your face;." I drop down to her height, letting her see the smile illuminate the surface of my face. "You know what it is that you want." I use a soft touch to stroke her cheek, relishing the warmth of her skin, the softness against the ferocity in her eyes. "You want to be claimed by a man who is capable of conquering anything, even you."
Her eyes flicker away, but not before I've seen the glint lurking in the depths. Desire? Delight? It matters not; it's mine. I may bask in it, dark and heady like an aged wine. She tries to shake her head in negation, to deny the truth, but her body tells another story altogether. "You're crazy," she whispers on a breathless gasp.
And she is right, so very right. "You are the one who is confused," I inform her, my voice a low growl that resonates in the air between us. "You're feeling it, Nolan. That's all there is to it."
And here it is—I see it—this unmistakable indicator any guy with decent peepers can spot from the distance—she's wet. The material of her suit is stuck on her curves, highlighting the areas where she's completely drenched, begging to be viewed. It's like the very cosmos itself had conspired to create Cupid's bow and arrow, forged with pure longing.
"Please, tell me," I beg, my voice dropping to a whisper so fragile that it couldn't even shatter wet tissue paper. "Tell me you want it."
Her eyes doesn't reflect her strong will and sparkle with deep emotions. It's something very simple instead. Shaking her head and keeping her lips pursed tight. "I... don't," she speaks hesitantly, and her words are hard even for her.
"Come on, Nolan," I whisper, still grinning. "Meet me eye to eye." I drop my pants to reveal my lower alien body. Little Conquest is firm and 11 inches of hard power that can penetrate steel. "Tell me, tell me you don't want this," I dare her, observing her eyes travel down and back up again, tempered with desire and restraint.
She remains quiet for a second but I see it's hard for her in her eyes. The Conqueror's Ledger System continues on and the numbers in my head swirl around like a wheel spinning in the jackpot win. The Brutality Multiplier is thrilled—it likes a psychological thriller. At last, she speaks the words aloud and they tremble in her mouth. "No..." They're feeble, like the leaf blown in the wind.
"Say it," I say once more, placing my hand on her face. "Say you desire to be with the most powerful man in the Universe." I search her eyes with intent to act. And then she says it. Soft and within her for a long time now, the words spill from her lips. "I want it," she says so softly but loud enough to be heard.
But that is not sufficient. I must hear it clearly and loud without a shade of doubt. "Say it louder," I say while standing right in front of her with my eyes fixed on hers. She is taken aback, and the sparkle in her eye dims momentarily. But then she surprises me. Nolan is not an easy person to crack, but finally, she is relinquishing her so-called 'free will'. She gazes up at me, and now her voice is louder and stronger. "I want it," she utters more loudly. It looks as if she is persuading herself rather than me. "I want you to fuck me like the monster you are."
The chains fall off of her with a remote attached to my belt and she stands. She remains motionless for a moment, like a resting statue. She then lowers to the floor on her knees, her trembling hands out for me. It is as though I'm observing a fawn attempting to make its first stumbling strides—is sweet and greatly exciting, at the same time.
"Take it," I tell her softly but firmly. "Prove to me just how much it means to you."
Nolan continues to stare at me with her hands holding Little Conquest cradled in her soft fingers. She shakes but there's a strong desire in her eyes. She opens her soft pink mouth like a flower opening and then goes for it. She sucks it very slowly initially, checking if the flavor is okay for her. But the glint in her eyes and the way she's taking in the sight indicates that she's into it.
I grab her hair and push her down, seeing her attempt to take all of me in. The Butcher's Voice is monologuing in my head about how healthy this is for my DP. I am not listening. I am too busy seeing the way Nolan's throat expands to take me in, and the way her cheeks hollow with each thrust of her head. It is gorgeous to behold, the way a master painter works with the colors and textures before her. And I have to admit, the girl is a quick learner. The way she swallows me deep and eagerly, like swallowing a giant sword in a renaissance festival game, is truly impressive.
But it's when I pull out that the real magic happens. Her eyes are watering, her mouth a perfect 'O' around my shaft, and she looks up at me with a mix of confusion and need. It's like she's asking permission to breathe again. So I give it to her. "Good girl," I praise. "Now, lick me." And she does, her tongue flicking out like a little pink flame, tracing the length of my dick along with my balls like it's the sweetest treat she's ever tasted.
It's difficult to put into words—like I'm a god and she's my greatest fan. I find myself unable to look away from how she massages—her hands on my balls. They are strong but not harsh, working on something very fragile. I must admit it gets to me in a way that even Eve didn't. Perhaps it's only because it's novelty with Nolan.
But when she starts deep-throating me again, I know it won't take long. The walls of her throat close around me like a warm, wet glove, and I can barely hold back from cumming on the spot. I need to maintain control, though. I cannot be the kind of guy who cums within the first five minutes. That is not what a Conqueror does.
I find it difficult since Nolan is being so hard on me. Her cheeks are pale like a heavy metal bass player's, and her eyes are tearful like when you've just chopped onions. That's when it occurs—her orgasm and the sensation in my pants is so powerful it could break through steel. I cradle her head in my hand and let her swallow it all down, every bit of the funny-tasting sperm, which is slightly more oily than human sperm. She gags but continues like a soldier.
But Nolan's not done with it yet. She dries her mouth on her hand and smiles smugly at me and says 'who's in charge now?' "I want more" she says and demands it too, pushing her body against the wall like a cat demanding attention. "I need you to fuck me hard."
The shock of her words slams into me like a meteor but does not break and harm me; it strengthens me instead. Here is a side I have never known in Nolan—so real, so significant, so... my own. "I will do whatever you desire," I say in a breathless whisper, advancing on her. Her hands are on the wall like a professional, her hips raised like a flag with the indication that she surrenders. But we both know it is not true.
She prepares for the push after I ripped the suit from the back. I see her muscles contract like water when a rock crashes into it. She breathes in and leans back and for a second I feel bad with a little bit of humanity left. The alien side? It's concentrated on the DP alone. Trust me, it will be very much worth it.
Nolan's pussy is tighter than a vice. I feel like I'm fucking a vice. I can go totally wild here because it's been so long since I've fucked a Viltrumite. I ram into her, and she endures it like a trooper, her muscular body trembling with each thrust. The System's HUD starts flashing, and I get DP like I'm in some kind of fucked-up video game. The Butcher's Voice is calling to me, a husky whisper telling me to drive harder, deeper, faster. And so I comply, my dick pistoning in and out of her like a fucking piston.
Her moans are music—low and coarse, replete with need. "Conquest! Conquest!" It reverberates in the air and off the walls like a war cry. The air is charged with the slapping sound of skin on skin, and a blend of madness and elation makes it feel like I am the king of the world. Perhaps I am. Perhaps I am the greatest and most marvelous thing the world has ever seen in these moments.
I yank her hair back hard, bending her back like a bow. Her breasts jostle with every thrust, and I bite on my lip so I don't groan too loudly. She's wet and tight, the feeling just right. It's like my penis hit the perfect target. And she likes it. Her eyes roll back, and her body clenches me. She's climaxing again. And again. The System tallies the penetration like a cash register's ringing for a big sale. It's fantastic. I just realized that I had taken her virginity but Nolan did not care.
With every orgasm, she lets out a scream that can shatter glass, and I swear, my desire becomes so overwhelming that I am tempted to scream myself. The Brutality Multiplier must be off the scale, because I have never felt so intensely alive. Whenever she orgasms, it's like I am being electrocuted, my body shaking with pure ecstasy. And now, she is not even trying to hold back; she is letting go completely, giving me free rein to investigate every part of her. It's like watching a volcano erupt in slow motion, each wave of pleasure engulfing her, making her more and more mine. We've gone through almost every position at this point.
And finally, the moment I have waited so long for is finally here. Sperm coiling inside of my balls, tension crammed tight for what feels like an eternity. Nolan's arms are around me, holding tight and aware in full understanding of the act to come and a desire for it with all the passion I have inside. The System hums in the background in my ears with a 'Hallelujah' chorale, providing an otherworldly background. In a rush with newfound urgency, I push into her with ragged gasping breaths now, grinding my teeth in unyielding determination.
And then, it hits. The climax. That moment of drama. The one that sends stars wheeling in my vision and has me questioning the very fabric of my existence. I lean in further, my lips touching hers, throwing all restraint to the wind. It's like a supernova has gone off in my chest, an infinite wave of sticky, warm victory. I wrap around her, pulling her in like a black hole. The System goes haywire, numbers flashing across my HUD like a pinball machine, the Brutality Multiplier rocketing into the stratosphere. It's like I've just won the universe's sickest jackpot.
Nolan had surprised me. She is not through still; her desire for mind-blowing, soul-stirring, alien-filled intimacy remains unsated. As man he was always libidious with Debbie, but now as a woman who even as man has never had a sex with a Viltrumite that can take as much abuse as she can in a minute? She wants another encounter. Looking up into my face, her eyes blaze with pleasure and defiance. "Again," she says huskily. It's as if she's challenging me to see if I was going to lose to a woman in sex and honestly yeah.
"By The Throne of Argall," I say in disbelief.
She jumps on top of me, straddling my body with the passion of a stallion. Still wet from her heat and full, her mounting of my cock elicits a moan that echoes through the walls. It's as if she's taking possession of me, as I do of her. She rides up and down, her breasts bouncing with a willing need to discard what's left of her top. It's a vision that would cause even the most holy among us to swear like an old sea captain.