Firebrand

He was strong, resilient, putting up a good fight as the pair exchanged scars and bruises. The duel was part of her fantasy, no less erotic than its result, and her racing mind went into great detail as her finger rubbed slowly.

Korbaz dodged out the way as the Chief swung at her with a clenched fist, the hard, tough material punching straight through the wall behind her as though it posed no resistance at all. He came at her again, far quicker than any normal human, a follow-up strike destroying a kitchen counter. The wood fractured, the contents of one of the drawers spilling alien implements onto the floor, her opponent's dark eyes tracking her as she danced out of his reach.

He raised his arms defensively as she swiped at him with her hooked claws, her talons leaving deep furrows in his polymer forearms. It felt good to feel them tear through something, even if it was only synthetic flesh, the Chief reeling under her powerful blow. She forced him back against the counter, the alien giving up his defensive posture, ducking under her blow to send her claws slicing through a wooden cabinet where his head had been a moment before.

There was an electric whir as he punched her in the stomach, moving as though he intended to put his iron fist straight through her, her muscles tensing as a jolt of pain rocked her. She did not fall as he had expected, driving her knee into his torso, lifting him clear off the floor and sending him slamming into the counter. The Chief was dazed, rising to his feet as he glared at her defiantly, wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his prosthetic hand. Korbaz had no idea how resilient humans really were, but in her fantasy, he could take anything that she could dish out.

The Chief took up a boxing posture, a human fighting stance that she had seen on the station's intranet. Their fists were dangerous, the knuckles reinforced for combat to the extent that they had to wear protective gloves to save from wounding one another. She could only imagine that the Chief's fists were even more deadly, perhaps designed for combat.

Unrelenting, he threw himself at her, harrying her with swift punches from his robotic limbs. He was fast, but he couldn't hope to stand against a Rask, their bout ending with Korbaz throwing him across the kitchen with a brutal backhand that knocked him off his feet. Even now, he tried to get up, but she marched across the kitchen and reached down to grip him by the collar of his uniform. She lifted him off the ground like a duffel bag, tossing him onto the Borealan-sized couch in the living area.

"Submit," she panted, her sweat making her leather garments stick to her skin. "You are spent."

A Borealan would submit once bested, he would become compliant, boring. But Korbaz had heard stories of how the humans prolonged the encounter well past the point of submission, resisting even as they were taken.

"I'm afraid not, Vice Admiral," he replied. He was always courteous, even when he was angry.

She reached down with her sharp claws, intending to tear open his uniform, but he gripped her wrist with a robotic hand. Korbaz batted her lashes in surprise as she found herself unable to break his steely grip. Her heart fluttered as her fingers began to grow numb, her wrist starting to hurt. He was so strong...

She brought in her second hand, and he stopped that too, Korbaz's biceps bulging from beneath the sleeves of her jacket as she tried in vain to reach him. She was winded by a savage kick from his prosthetic leg, the skid-like foot catching her in the belly. Her lips curled into a grin as she pressed more of her weight on him, she could hear his arms creaking, the motors whining. Finally, she managed to gain control, pinning his arms against the cushions as she loomed over him.

Korbaz brought her face close to his, her labored breathing washing over him, the sweet scent of his exertion filling her pink nose. She opened her mouth, grazing his cheek with her rough, tapered tongue. His taste was just as irresistible.

"I finally get to have you," she whispered as her heart began to race, "no more games..."

The Chief reached up and sank his teeth into her neck, biting her hard enough to leave a sore, red mark. A jolt of pleasure coursed through her as her eyelids fluttered, the real Korbaz beginning to stroke herself faster as her imaginary counterpart wet her lips in anticipation.

"You can't resist me," she continued, "you've never had anyone like me before. I'll send you back to your prissy Polar covered in my scent."

She drew the loop of rope that she kept in one of her pouches, delighting in binding his hands together. Korbaz wasn't interested in the details, or the fact that he could easily have broken free, her fantasy demanded that he be restrained.

Now bound with his arms above his head, he couldn't prevent her from slowly popping the buttons off his uniform one by one with her black claws. Did he have buttons, or had it been a zipper? She couldn't remember. No matter...

She tore the garment open, exposing his chest, running her padded fingers over his collection of scars. Each one was the proof of a battle won, an engagement survived, a story that had been imprinted in his skin. Korbaz let her claws prick him, leaving red trails that came just short of drawing blood, the Chief twitching as she moved lower.

She knelt, the sound of tearing fabric filling the room as she discarded the rest of his shredded uniform. The garment disappeared to leave him naked as soon as it was no longer part of her imagined encounter, her focus turning to his alien, yet familiar physique. Korbaz could see where his prosthetics connected to his body now, the stumps covered by polymer housings in her mind's eye. They were some of the most deadly injuries that could be survived, yet he fought on, a shiver traveling down her spine as she admired his physique.

Although she would never have admitted to letting her curiosity get the better of her, she had seen a human's member before, an anatomical drawing on an intranet article. They weren't nearly as small as one would have expected from a creature of such diminutive stature, and they were covered in smooth skin, without a barb in sight. The stimulation instead came from the odd ridge on the pronounced head and the bulging veins that ran up and down its length.

She pressed her padded finger against its sensitive tip, watching it twitch, her amber eyes darting upwards to see the Chief peering back at her expectantly. How could he resist her? Given the opportunity, she would turn him, she was certain of it. The sinewy, vigorous body of a Rask was a sculpted work of art, fat Polars and frail human women couldn't hold a candle to her. If only he would see it. Korbaz had contrived so many opportunities to have him close to her, to let him run those metal hands across her body. If he was at all curious, then he never showed it.

All he had to do was turn up at her suite and ask for a closer look...

Her fingers began to rub faster, wet with her juices as she imagined closing her lips around his member, feeling his pulse against the flat of her tongue. She dug her claws into his prosthetic thigh, feeling them sink deep into the material as she began to suck, crawling her lips lower as his resistance started to melt. She took him into her throat, kissing the base, Korbaz delighting in the way that he throbbed in her mouth.

It was more than simply wanting to conquer him as she had so many others. She wanted to pleasure him, she wanted him to reciprocate her desire, and she wasn't sure why. Conquest had always been enough before, but she wanted to prove herself in other ways, she wanted him to want her.

His rubber fingers delved into her sandy hair, alternating between affectionate stroking, and stinging tugging that made her loins ache. Where the rope had gone, she didn't care, logic wasn't a requirement when she was lost in a sordid fantasy.

Her long tongue coiled around his length, winding up and down his shaft, coating it in her saliva. She reveled in his every twitch and sigh, pulling back the protective skin to expose his pink flesh, paying it special attention as its tip leaked beads of his excitement. She wasn't sure if he would appreciate its rough texture, but in her mind, she was gentle, and he reveled in it. His grip on her hair grew tighter as she teased him, a groan of disappointment escaping his lips when she stopped short of finishing him off. She took his member in her hand, tickling him with her furry palm, now damp with her drool.

"Now, perhaps you will be more honest with yourself," she said as she crawled up onto the couch. She straddled him, her weight pressing the cushions down to either side of him, her leather pants creaking as she brought her crotch to head-height. She gripped the headrest, seeing the conflict in his eyes as they traced the indents that her toned muscles carved into her exposed midriff, droplets of her sweat following the contours as they dripped down her belly.

"I want you to undress me," she said, more of a statement than a request. "Surely you can resist me no longer, Security Chief?"

She licked her lips as she peered down at him, finding his indecision adorable, his arousal overcoming the shame of his defeat at her hands. His lips pressed against her belly, Korbaz shuddering both in her fantasy and in reality as she imagined the sensation of his silken tongue darting into her navel.

"I've been lying to myself," he muttered, the Vice Admiral grinning from ear to ear as he placed a gentle bite on her hip.

"Did you always want me?" Korbaz whispered, her cheeks flushing as her imagination took a self-indulgent turn.

"I didn't know how to show it," he replied, "your culture is so foreign."

"Human courtship is so indirect," she purred, reaching down and cupping his scarred cheek in her hand. "A Rask simply takes what she wants."

"Then..."

Korbaz lurched as she felt his prosthetic fingers dart up towards her pants, the alien crushing her steel belt buckle in his hand as though it were made from tin, tearing it away. Once her belt had been loosened, he ripped open her fly, not even taking the time to pull down the zipper. He had become so aggressive all of a sudden, not at all like the submissive behavior of a defeated male.

Korbaz's excited chuckling morphed in a low, sultry moan as his tongue skirted the fluffy tuft of blonde fur on her mound, his fingers delving into the meat of her rump through the tough leather. His metal hands were so small, struggling to cup her firm cheeks, but the lack of claws meant that he could knead and squeeze in a way that a Borealan partner couldn't.

She shivered contentedly as he took generous handfuls of her flesh through her pants, her spine arching, fresh beads of sweat trailing their way down her washboard abs. Her now willing partner began to drag her pants down, so tight that it was a struggle, even with his enhanced strength. They were like a second skin, as though they had been painted onto her, the material creaking audibly as he hooked his thumbs around her waistband.

Korbaz helped him along, dragging them down slowly, making him work for every inch of exposed skin. He seemed enamored, mouthing and kissing as he went, biting her with his dull teeth.

The garment slid down around her muscular thighs, the Chief running the rubbery pads on the ends of his fingers across her wet skin, the sheen of sweat making her glisten under the suite's lights. She could feel his eyes wandering across her figure, drinking her in like a thirsty traveler at a desert oasis. He radiated a long-repressed desire, his cool hands sliding between her parted legs, probing as though he didn't know what to expect.

His fingers found wetness, warmth, and he pulled them back to see a web of sagging fluid clinging to the polymer. He brought it to his mouth, glancing up at her defiantly as he sampled her flavor, Korbaz's cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red.

The Vice Admiral was jolted back to reality as the bed in her cell made an especially loud creak. She realized that she had raised her rump from the mattress, her fingers moving furiously between her trembling thighs. She pulled them away, watching the strand that linked them to her swollen loins fall to her belly as it broke.

"Too hot," she grumbled to nobody in particular, putting her sordid fantasy on hold as she removed her leather jacket. The cold wall behind her was now pleasant, soothing, her tank top already stained with sweat. The damned cell was like an oven, trapping all of her body heat. As someone who was accustomed to the harsh weather of the Rask territory, it took a great deal of discomfort to make her complain.

She tossed her jacket to the floor, the metal studs and badges clattering against the white metal, then shifted her weight as she tried to find a comfortable position. She spread her legs further, wishing that she had something softer to sit on, the rhythmic squeaking of the bedsprings resuming as she began to rub again.

In Korbaz's fantasy, her pants had vanished, leaving her nude from the waist down. The human left a sucking kiss on her inner thigh, a pleasant shiver winding its way up her spine, her muscles dimpling her skin as they tensed.

"You taste so good," he muttered, her eyes rolling back into her head as she felt his smooth tongue draw shapes. He neared her loins, her pulse seeming to make them throb, his nose delving into the silky tuft of sandy fur as his lips met hers. Like a lurid kiss, he explored her with his dexterous organ, its texture like satin that had been soaked in warm water. That was the way that she had heard it described, was it not?

"Yes, just like that," she whispered as she let her hand rest in his hair. She drew him a little closer, her legs turning to jelly as he painted her burning vulva, teasing her with gentle licks and pecks. She leaned back a little, making it easier for him, feeling the warmth of his red cheeks on her thighs as he dug deeper.

The males could be so rough with their barbed tongues. Some knew how to leverage the smoother underside to pleasure her, but it took some measure of skill and experience. The merest glance of the rough side would jolt her out of her fugue and ruin her mounting orgasm. Females were a little better, but the same problem persisted.

Her mind flashed back to an encounter with a downtrodden female who she had served alongside once upon a time, her heart skipping a beat as she remembered how good she had been at giving head. The female had obviously been the runt of her litter, barely skirting seven and a half feet, her clear skin a sure sign that she preferred to submit rather than fight for her status. As a result, she had found herself the unofficial stress reliever for the rest of the crew, dropping to her knees and delving her nose between Korbaz's thighs at the merest hint of conflict.

They had been in the ship's storage room at the time, full of wooden barrels and crates, lit by a single oil lamp that swung from the ceiling every time the vessel crested a sand dune. As one of the lowest-ranked Rask serving there, she had been tasked with moving cargo and taking inventory, a humiliating position for a member of a raiding party. Korbaz ran a tighter operation than her previous Captain, and she had found fault with her subordinate's performance. Needless to say, her apology had been more than satisfactory.

What that girl could do with her tongue was magic, folding it in on itself so that only the smooth parts were making contact, reaching so deep inside her Captain that she didn't leave a solitary nerve untouched by her doting licking. She was so practiced that one could only assume that she enjoyed her demeaning treatment from the rest of the crew, a hand sneaking between her own legs as she serviced her betters.

How many times had Korbaz sought her out during that voyage? What an entertaining couple of weeks those had been. She doubted whether that girl would ever forget her taste.

Her mind was wandering, Korbaz turning her thoughts back to her fantasy, imagining the Chief's tongue sliding up her vulva. His lips pursed around her clitoris, sore and needy, the suction alone making her tremble as he drew on it gently. Her heart raced as she took a moment to consider what a human might be able to do that her own people couldn't, what novelties they might offer. Quick flurries, slow, teasing circles. It was hard to even imagine what it would feel like.

Korbaz rubbed her sodden mound with more urgency, matching pace with the imagined strokes of the strange, alien organ. Her back rose from the mattress, her sweat making it stick to her, her raunchy scent filling the room. If that stupid, fat Polar came back, the Vice Admiral's sordid deed might as well be branded on her forehead. It mattered not, she was too close to back off now, the damage had been done.

Her free hand snuck beneath her tank top, kneading her breast, careful not to slice herself with her claws. She rubbed and squeezed, trapping her nipple between the soft pads on her thumb and forefinger, pinching it as she gritted her teeth against the mounting pleasure. With one hand buried beneath her damp shirt and the other delving into her pants, she pushed herself higher and higher. She was unable to stop herself from grinding her hips in a futile attempt to fuck her own hand. The bed frame knocked against the back wall, the combination of slamming metal and creaking springs making her fear that her captors would hear her and come to investigate the strange noises.

"Fuck," she snarled at the empty room, her imagination growing blurry and indistinct. Images of the Chief's face buried in her crotch were replaced with flashes of his strong hands sealing around her wrists, pinning her. He had her on her back, squirming and writhing, glistening beads of sweat flying from her skin with every lurch and shiver. He had conquered her, made her his subordinate, his alien hands wandering across her willing body without resistance.

N-no, she was a Rask, a Vice Admiral! What of her pride? Her status?

Her misgivings melted away as she imagined those metal fingers closing around her throat, choking her just the way she liked, her back rising from the carpet as he took his fill of her on the floor of her suite. His alien member teased her, that odd ridge scraping against her g-spot, a wonderful ache that bordered on pain making her legs shake.

She realized that her hand had left her breast, closing around her neck instead, squeezing harder as her mind escaped her control like a feral Archeox breaking its chains.

The Chief pushed one of his prosthetic fingers into her mouth as he mounted her like a rutting beast, Korbaz sucking it obediently, running her tongue across its contours. She could imagine the thud of their hips crashing together, the burns that the carpet was leaving on her bare rump, his teeth pinching an erect nipple as he played his human tongue over it.

The taboo made her blood rush in her ears, the idea of being overcome by a human, a filthy alien planting his seed in her willing womb. That fantasy didn't even make sense, different species couldn't bear fruit, but the surge of lust that it inspired quickly banished such doubts.

She imagined his fingers digging into her hips with enough force to bruise as he ravaged her, his member swelling and throbbing inside her as her clenching walls wrung it. Her body was betraying her to him, her tongue lolling from her mouth, his every thrust scrambling her thoughts. The anticipation of his warm, thick emission filling her spasming tunnel was more than she could stand. She needed it now.

Her eyes snapped open, her awareness dragged back to reality as a quake rocked her sweat-drenched body, her orgasm sneaking up on her. The featureless ceiling grew blurry as the first wave of her climax surged through her, the Vice Admiral only barely succeeding in preventing an unbecoming moan from escaping her lips. The ecstasy coursed through her like an electric current, her muscles tensing, her hand moving between her legs furiously as she eased out every last pang of pleasure that she could.