To Love a Tyrant

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The alien Admiral of the High Fleet, finally dominated.
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The dim lighting of Frau Evelyn Albrecht's quarters cast a muted glow, illuminating the room just enough to see the scattered tools and work diagrams on her table. Frau grimaced as she tried to apply the salve on her wound, her fingers trembling from the sting. Her tank top was pulled up, revealing the angry welts of red and purple around her ribs.

Without warning, the door slid open. Rurik's imposing figure filled the entrance, his crimson eyes immediately locking onto Frau's exposed skin. The air in the room grew palpably thicker, both of them acutely aware of the palpable tension between them.

"You require my aid?" His deep voice was unusually soft, filled with a rare tenderness.

Frau smirked, her eyes glinting mischievously. "Wouldn't you like that?" she teased, even as she turned slightly to allow him better access to her injury.

Rurik stepped closer, the distance between them rapidly shrinking. Taking the jar from her, his fingers brushed against hers, sending shivers down her spine. "You're playing a dangerous game, Frau."

She grinned, feigning innocence. "Whatever do you mean?" All the while, her thoughts raced, vividly imagining his hands elsewhere, memories of their past encounters flashing before her eyes.

He dipped his fingers into the salve, and the cold sensation as he applied it to her wound caused her to inhale sharply. She could feel the waves of his psychic influence, attempting to calm her, but she resisted, allowing her mind to wander to the more daring of places. She bit her lip, suppressing a moan, knowing full well he'd pick up on her every thought.

Rurik's eyes darkened, burning with a fiery intensity. "You're enjoying this," he stated, his voice husky.

She laughed softly. "You have no idea." Her breathing became more ragged as he continued to treat her wound, her playful mental images becoming bolder.

The dim glow of her room accentuated the bronze sheen of her skin and the dark, playful depths of her brown eyes.

Rurik's piercing red eyes didn't miss a detail as he approached, a jar of ointment in hand. Frau feigned a wince, the sting of her injuries blending seamlessly with the warmth of Rurik's close proximity.

"I believe you missed a spot," she teased, guiding his hand with the ointment to another part of her injury.

As Rurik carefully applied the salve, he could feel the psychic waves emanating from Frau. Every mental image she conjured, every sly, suggestive thought was shared with him. Images of the two of them, entwined in intimate embrace, sent heat coursing through his veins.

"I'm merely checking your injuries," he stated, his voice firm yet laced with underlying tension.

She smirked, "Is that all you're doing?"

He paused for a moment, glancing at her. "That's what you asked for, isn't it?"

Frau's chuckle was soft, almost a whisper against the palpable silence. "You always give me what I ask for, Admiral."

Rurik's fingers paused on her skin, lingering just a moment longer than necessary, as he locked eyes with Frau. "And what exactly are you asking for now?"

She bit her lip, lifting her shirt a bit higher, revealing more of her lean, muscled physique, and more than a little of the side of her breast, her eyes never leaving his. "Just... helping with my wounds."

Rurik leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. "Be careful with your thoughts, Frau. You might get more than you bargained for."

She grinned, relishing the electrifying tension between them. "Oh, I'm counting on it."

Her deep brown eyes met his seething red pearls, holding them with a challenging glint. As the ointment cooled her skin, the thoughts she projected grew more heated, more vivid. Rurik was caught in their spell, feeling every imagined caress, every stolen kiss. Her psychic tease was deliberate, and she reveled in the power she held over him in that moment.

Rurik leaned in closer, his voice a low growl. "You play a dangerous game."

Frau smirked, her voice dripping with honeyed innocence. "Who's playing?"

The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in, as if trying to contain the explosive tension between them. Every second felt like an eternity, and in that stretched-out moment, the lines between reality and imagination blurred, leaving both wondering just how far this game would go.

The atmosphere between them was so charged, the room's very air felt thick, like an impending storm. Frau's fingers, deft and nimble from years of intricate mechanical work, moved towards Rurik, grazing his armored chest. The cold, hard black metal seemed out of place against her warm, soft touch.

She locked her gaze with his, the challenge evident in her eyes. Wordlessly, she began to find and release the clasps and seals of his armor, each piece falling away with a metallic thud. Rurik stood still, allowing her this intimacy. Every piece she removed revealed more of his mysterious alien physique, the hard ridges of his muscles, and the scars of countless battles.

Each piece dropped was a new discovery, a revelation, an unspoken trust. Frau's heart raced, partly from the thrill of the unfamiliar and partly from the realization that the formidable Admiral was letting his guard down, making himself vulnerable before her. It was a level of intimacy neither had expected.

Once his chest plate fell, she ran her fingers over his exposed torso, tracing the contours, feeling the strange texture of his skin. Her fingers stumbled upon an old battle scar, a long jagged mark that hinted at a deadly encounter.

Rurik's voice rumbled, breaking the silence, "That was from the uprising on Titan."

She glanced up at him, eyes filled with curiosity and admiration. "You have stories behind every scar."

He met her gaze, the intensity in his eyes unyielding. "And some scars, one wishes to forget."

The profound vulnerability in that statement hung between them, adding another layer of depth to their already complex connection. But for now, words were unnecessary. Their actions spoke louder, filling the room with a symphony of unspoken desires and intertwined fates.

She pulled her ragged tank top over her head, the ragged remains falling wetly on the floor, revealing her firm and lean breasts as well as her muscular abdomen. Her chest heaved with ragged breathes as she look at him through the her lowered gaze. She looked like a wild animal as she pulled him into an embrace, their bodies intertwined in swift and electric contact.

The stark contrast of their bodies meeting was palpable. Frau's dark, sinewy physique against Rurik's pale and scar-ridden form seemed almost otherworldly. As she embraced him, the world around them blurred into irrelevance. There was a profound stillness, a quiet that seemed to envelope them, muffling the distant sounds of the base.

And then, a rush of sensations.

For Rurik, melding minds was a sacred act, one that he had never undertaken. But Frau's gesture was both an invitation and a dare. He could feel her pulse, the quickness of her heartbeats, the warmth of her skin. With the melding, their thoughts and emotions became intertwined. It was a flood of memories, hopes, fears, and desires.

He felt the joy of her childhood, the grief of losing her family, the thrill of building and repairing mechs, the loneliness of her nights, and the burning desire she held for him. In turn, she experienced the weight of his responsibilities, the battles he had faced, the countless lives he had seen end, the depth of his loneliness, and the surprising tenderness he felt for her.

The melding was an overload, an intoxication. Every wall, every defense Rurik had ever built was torn down. Every guarded emotion, every suppressed desire was laid bare. And for Frau, the melding was a revelation. She saw Rurik not just as the formidable Admiral but as a being with deep vulnerabilities, fears, and a capacity for gentleness she hadn't imagined.

The bond formed in that moment was profound. Two souls, from vastly different worlds, finding a connection that transcended words, thoughts, and even time. When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless, overwhelmed, forever changed. The weight of what they had shared, the depth of their connection, hung between them - a bond that would never truly be broken.

She pulled back, her lean muscles strained against her dark skin as her breasts heaved steadily with deep and ragged breaths. Her dark eyes peered at him hungrily.

The dim light of Frau's quarters painted shadows over her figure, accentuating the sweat that made her skin glisten. Rurik, panting heavily, was an unsettling sight in his usually unyielding demeanor. The two were caught in a momentary standstill, a taut string of tension connecting them.

The air grew thick as Frau's eyes roamed over the tall, imposing figure of Rurik. The intensity of her gaze, coupled with the hunger evident in her eyes, was palpable. Her chest heaved with every breath, the remnants of the powerful psychic connection still echoing through her.

Rurik, although usually unreadable, wore an expression of bewilderment. The melding had been overpowering, and the exposure to such raw emotion was uncharted territory for him. He attempted to regain his composure, but the gentle rise and fall of Frau's chest and the seductive gleam in her eyes made it near impossible.

"You... are an unexpected enigma, Albrecht," Rurik rasped, his voice betraying the whirlwind of emotions inside him.

Frau smirked, a devilish glint in her eyes, "And you, Admiral, are full of surprises."

Taking a step closer, she let a finger trail down the center of the armor still about his waist. The sensation, although dulled by the thick metal, sent shivers down Rurik's spine. The room's temperature seemed to spike despite the coolness of the base, each of them hyper-aware of the other's proximity.

Frau's lips curled into a sly grin, "Care for another round of surprises, Admiral?"

The challenge in her voice was unmistakable, and for the first time in centuries, Admiral Rurik was unsure of his next move.

The silence was thick, filled with anticipation, as Frau reached out to trace the unique patterns of Rurik's skin. The alien feel of him was cool to the touch, yet there was an underlying warmth, a living pulse that drew her in.

Their closeness was electric, each heartbeat echoing the other's, as they stood at the precipice of a profound connection, one that transcended mere physical attraction.

She then stands and with a turnabout, pushed Rurik onto her mattress.

The swift, assertive movement caught Rurik off guard. He landed on the bed with a soft thud, his red eyes widened in surprise, locked onto Frau's. She looked down at him, a predatory gleam in her brown eyes, her chest heaving with adrenaline and anticipation.

Rurik's normally stern demeanor was shattered, replaced by a heady mix of vulnerability and desire. He had faced countless foes, commanded entire fleets, and yet this singular woman had rendered him momentarily powerless.

Frau climbed atop him, her weight pressing him further into the soft mattress. Her injured side throbbed with a dull pain, but it was momentarily forgotten, overshadowed by the intense heat of the moment.

She leaned down, her lips mere inches from his. Her warm breath intermingled with his cooler exhales. The sensation was electrifying, sending shivers down Rurik's spine. He could feel the raw intensity of her mind pressing against his own, a dance of thoughts, emotions, and desires.

Frau whispered, her voice husky, "Do you feel that, Admiral?"

Rurik responded, voice strained with the weight of unspoken emotions, "Yes... like nothing I've ever known."

As their lips met, time seemed to stand still. The intensity of the moment, the collision of two worlds, and the culmination of emotions swirled around them, making everything else fade away. The universe, in that singular moment, was contained within that room.

She pulled back from the kiss, only to begin planting smaller kisses all over his bare body.

Every press of her lips against his skin was accompanied by a flash--a potent cocktail of memories, desires, and raw emotions that momentarily overwhelmed him. Each tiny connection formed between them was like a strike of lightning, electrifying and intense.

With each kiss, the images became bolder, more vivid. Rurik saw a cascade of Albrecht's memories, from innocent days in her workshop, to passionate moments of previous lovers, to her dreams of a future. But they all paled in comparison to the increasingly provocative images she now projected.

He felt her hands tracing the muscles of his chest and abdomen, her touch igniting a fire that seemed to spread wherever she touched. With every caress, with every meld, he was given a clearer picture of what she truly desired from him.

Rurik's usual stoic exterior began to crack under the barrage of sensations. His heart raced, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly at her mercy.

He tried to maintain his own mental barriers, to keep some semblance of control over the situation. But the onslaught of Albrecht's emotions and the physical sensations she was eliciting was proving too much for him.

His hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer, deepening their connection. They were caught in an intoxicating dance--a symphony of minds and bodies that neither had experienced before. The room was charged with an energy that was palpable, and the boundaries between them began to blur. As they continued to explore and meld with one another, it became increasingly unclear where one ended and the other began.

Then her eyes closed and Rurik watched as her abdominal muscles began to rhythmically contract and she arched her back one way, then another. Sweat began to wet her almond skin as it began to drip onto him. Her thighs, tensed, opening and closing her legs slightly as she still hung above him, her hands holding his wrists into the bed.

It was then when he noticed a dark wetness on the crotch of her boxers growing, that he realized what she was doing.

She was using his mind to masturbate, as increasingly physical and lewd images flooded Rurik's mind, images of lonely nights she had spent exploring her own body, sweat soaked nights, much like this one.

He finally felt her tense all at once, her muscles straining against the taught and smooth skin, her abs tensing, leading down to below her stomach, he tight pubic muscles disappearing behind her boxers as the wet spot rapidly expanded, as her orgasm racked her body. The wetness dripped from her boxers onto Rurik's taught and pale lower abdomen.

He had thought her finished, as she panted raggedly. Her eyes then met his, her dark irises then gleaned anew with renewed hunger, as all at once he felt the apex of her orgasm come crashing back, this time, channeled into Rurik's body, as images of his body coursed through them.

He could feel her desire racking his body as once again her body, taught and loaded, pressed down on his as she sat back, and began removing the rest of his armor.

Rurik, still on the throughs of the pleasure he had infused her with, gasped as it all settled between his legs, as he felt every vessel in his alien cock dilate.

Images shot through both of their minds of his endowment, long and with rounded lines, ending after a full foot and a half in length in a flared tip. Pale and semi-translucent, it's extreme vascularity was evident.

With redoubled hunger at the vision, she pried at his armor and after the plates were separated, she pulled down the straining fabric to free his manhood as it sprung upward almost comically.

As the vision had promised, a full foot and a half at a right angle from his taught lower abdomen, stood his manhood, proudly.

She stared with a mix of shock and hunger as his alien glans rested just under her sternum as she straddled him, still sitting on his legs.

She cradled a hand about it and pressed it against her abdomen to accentuate the point. With her touch, his abdomen tensed, and the veins of his member bulged even more as it expanded another inch or so, touching her sternum and spurting a few voluminous spurts of precum in a stead rhythm. One, two, three, the fourth and final spurt roping across her face.

She barely reacted, utterly mesmerized by what she holds against her taught abdomen. Resting firmly between her abs and almost between her breasts now, is easily the largest dick she has ever seen in her life.

Between the incredible pleasure and unceasing mental assault from her, Rurik manages a smug pride as he senses her awe at his endowment. That is, until she queues onto it and grips his member firmly before giving it a long and languid pump of her fist.

It shocks Rurik as pleasure erupts anew in his cock and jolting into his core abdomen as once again, one, two, three, four, five, and six more large spurts of precum jet out from his flared dick as she begins steadily pumping his cock.

The ordeal becomes much more musical as the excessive lubrication provided by his member covers his cock, her hand and a good amount of the front of her tight body as she works him. She undulates and arches her back as she begins rubbing her slit on his member through her utterly soaked boxers, her abs flexing and straining as she humps him while pumping his shaft.

Rurik's breath catches as his member flexes again, bulging another inch in length as it touches the bottom of one of her breasts. His abdomen clenches again as a thick pearly white jet shoots across her breast and up the side of her face, before being punctuated by another which leaks from the tip and is quickly worked in by her pumping hand.

"Damn," she says, "You're going to be dehydrated by the end of this. That little spurt was already several times the normal ejaculate of a human, not even counting this precum you keep oozing out..."

She trails off as her effort redoubles again, she humps him harder and faster rapidly approaching another orgasm. She goes rigid again, this time channeling it through Rurik as she does.

She begins pumping his prick like mad as her hands become a blur. Churning butter with both hands, she pumps him as hard and as fast as she can manage as Rurik grunts and flexes, his prick bulging obscenely as his urethra visibly dilatates before unloading onto her face with a massive spurt, a brilliant and voluminous pearlescence.

Again and again he flexes as his prick paints the front of her tight body with spurt after spurt of jizm. Flowing down her breasts and flexing abs in little rivers and she spasms in the throughs of her own orgasm, she huffs and squeals as she is hit in the face with at least three more massive spurts of cum. She sputters and giggles.

It never seems to end as she is seemingly caught in her own orgasm, and his through their linked minds as their pleasure and desire intertwine. At lease twelve more spurts erupt from him as she continues to pump his member, before they begin to arc in smaller and smaller spurts.

A steady flow of cum still drizzles from his tip as she slowly and languidly pumps his prick. Half-erect and cum drooling from the tip, she smiles at him with her chestnut body painted with large white patches by his copious seed, still dripping and running down her taught physique.

She smiles at him warmly as he lets out a long sigh, which is accompanied by a thick and lazy river of cum from his prick.

She slowly and absent-mindedly strokes his length as her deep and even breaths almost match his. Her firm breasts rise and fall with heaving breaths as the scarce moonlight from outside casts shadows across her lean and muscled body. Her wide hips accentuate his endowment, as the curve inward at

Rurik takes a moment to admire her body, clearly the result of relentless and careful training. He is astonished by how young she is. She's barely 27, and yet she is a veritable genius, a prodigy.

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