Untitled AA Romelle Sabbath One Shot

He strode through the corridors of the ship on silent feet, leather boots not so much as creaking as he stepped across the hard, metallic floors. The metal was reflective, he could see his blurred image shining on the floors, though he didn’t pay much mind to it. No, Sabbath’s attention was more on the girl that was currently slung over his shoulder, her soft body a pleasant weight that struggled and squirmed in the most delightful of ways.

She was a gift from his King, Lotor pleased with his latest mission, Sabbath having not only scouted out a new world for the Drule to colonize, but having slipped inside it’s borders to begin the processes of Drule conquest. The humans hadn’t known what had hit them, Sabbath and his soldiers unleashing pure devastation as they opened fire on innocents the world over.

Of course the humans of that world had tried to fight back, wars erupting as they hastily mounted a pitiful defense. In the end it had made no difference, the King arriving with reinforcements, and quickly destroying the last of the human’s resistance. Those who hadn’t been killed during the fighting and subsequent looting, were enslaved, the young and able bodied sent to work the land and mines.

Of course, not all the slaves would earn a hard life, there was some, those who had the fortune of being blessed with good looks, that would find work elsewhere. The King himself had chosen over thirty women to bed him this night, with an additional twenty being given to be shared among his men. Only Sabbath had earned the right to choose a slave for himself, and it was a privilege he had given careful consideration too.

Eventually he had dwindled the choice down to two women in particular, both blonde and blue eyed, the girls clinging to each other in fear. One had been dressed in scraps of pink silk, the other in the palest of blues. They looked similar enough to be related, and he had had the passing thought that they could have been sisters.

In the end, it had not been his eyes that had chosen, but his nose, Sabbath finding the blonde in blue to have the more pleasing scent. He couldn’t put his finger on why her scent called out to him, but it did, making him feel as though she had cast a siren’s spell over him. He had already been half aroused, just looking between the two slaves, but when he had inhaled the perfume of this particular girl’s hair, his cock had instantly stood to attention. Sabbath had been shocked by how aroused he had gotten, at how quickly the need had come over him. It made him want to throw her down on her back, lift up the silk between her legs, and just sink into paradise immediately.

But he refused to sink down to the level of the other men, those soldiers almost mindless as they enjoyed the twenty women their King had given them. Moans and screams had been all around him, and the sound of wet flesh slapping, the soldiers laughing, goading on each other with taunts and enjoying the women’s fear and misery. Sabbath felt he was better than these men, he would not take this gift of his King, and shame her before a group.

He didn’t know what would happen to the blonde in pink, and it had taken two Drules to pry the two girls apart, his chosen slave screaming out in aguish as her friend was dragged away. He had spoke to her then, telling her in Drule that she needed to worry more for herself, than anyone else. He hadn’t expected her to understand, but the slave had turned, gasping in wide eyed shock, her fear making her all the more lovelier.

Even with her fear, she proved to be a little hellion, fighting him when he tried to pull her into his arms. Her nails scored a direct hit on his cheek, he actually bled for her, and his eyes had narrowed. She seemed to shrink back when she realized what she had done, losing some of the fight in her.

But not all, Sabbath being forced to bound and gag her, throwing his well trussed prize over his shoulder. She hadn’t been docile, struggling as best as she could, and squealing her furious but ultimately impotent protests. The soldiers that were waiting their turn with the women, had cheered him on, Sabbath slapping a hand on her shapely rump to quell some of her furious motion.

He wasn’t the only one to be leaving, King Lotor having made his selection for the night, and determined to enjoy each and every woman he had claimed for his personal harem. They exchanged nods, the King looking amused at the troublesome selection Sabbath had made. Certainly the women Lotor had chosen seemed more docile, but then they were able to take comfort from each other. This slave of Sabbath’s had been fine until they separated her from her little friend, and then a fire had come to her eyes.

A fire that intrigued him, Sabbath stepping quicker through the palace’s halls. He kept wanting to stop, to pin her against a wall, and undo the bindings holding her legs together long enough to claim her in a more binding way. She never stopped struggling though, and he realized it would be better to get her behind locked doors before he began the task of taming his slave.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of walking, his chambers were in sight, Sabbath hurrying towards the door. He shifted her weight on him, tapping out the code that would undo the locks to the door. It was with a click and a hiss of air that the metal slid open, Sabbath stepping inside. He paused only long enough to lock the door behind him, and then he was stepping towards the bed.

His slave’s struggles increased, her fitful whines panicked as though she realized there was no hope for her now. When he reached the front of the bed, he took the opportunity to slide her down the front of his body, relishing in the feel of her softness. He actually closed his eyes, finding he was relying on his other senses to experience her, enjoying touch and smell far more than he ever thought possible.

“MPGH!!” She sounded absolutely infuriated, and when he looked at her, he noted her beautiful blue eyes had narrowed into a glare. She was still trying to be so defiant, even as she kneeled on the bed, wrists bound to her ankles by a length of rope.

He chose to ignore her furious screams, one hand reaching to cup her face. Immediately she tried to jerk back from his hand, and he laughed, amused when she fell over onto the bed. The flimsy silk of her outfit had become disheveled in the process, what had barely been covered revealed to him now, Sabbath spying two rosy pink nipples. His mouth watered, he wanted to taste her, there and elsewhere, the Drule wanting to lick her all over until her screams turned into appreciative moans.

That thought made HIM moan, a low groan of sound that had her squeaking in surprise. She didn’t like him making that sound, nor did she like the way he climbed onto the bed with her, doing a slow, unhurried crawl towards her. So trussed up was his little slave, she couldn’t even inch away from him, merely rolling in place and making fitful sounds.

“Shh, little one…” He attempted to soothe her, big hand landing on her thigh. “I will not hurt you..”

She went still at his touch, skin prickling with goose bumps as she stared at him. He noted her breathing had picked up a notch, her chest heaving in a delightful way. He liked her breasts, enjoyed their fullness, and the perkiness of her nipples. She noticed where he was staring, and her color seemed to flee her cheeks, the girl going pale.

“MRPGH!!” She sounded urgent in the moment, blue eyes flashing with distress. He hadn’t the faintest idea what she was trying to tell him, Sabbath forcing his glance from her breasts to her face. And was once again struck by her beauty, the flawlessness of her face, every feature seeming perfect. There was no wonder she had been chosen to be a pleasure slave, such beauty consigned to the mines would be a tragedy.

She locked eyes with him, and it was a good minute before Sabbath was able to look away. He frowned when he realized he had been staring, mouth slightly agape as though he had never seen a woman before hand. His hand rested on her thigh, fingers absentmindedly stroking the silk soft skin there. A fine tremor worked it’s way through the slave’s body, no amount of petting would calm her, though he felt certain she was more angry than afraid.

He was especially certain of that when she glared at him, tone venomous as she let out muffled accusations. It served to amuse him, Sabbath listening to her ineffectual squawks as he stroked towards the inside of her thigh. Her legs had been tied in such a way, that they were spread just enough for him to inspect her, each ankle secure to a wrist. She was open to his inspection, and nothing she could do would be able to stop his finger’s exploration.

And he itched to do just that, Sabbath finding he wanted to linger over every inch of her, take his time to learn her body, and the reactions she would have to him. Such thoughts had him holding back a frown, Sabbath wondering why he would go to such trouble for a slave. Even one that had been granted to him for his exclusive use. Eyes narrowed, he moved to snatch the silk off her front, that bit that could laughably be called a skirt.

She screamed then, and wiggled harder, doing that rocking motion from side to side. It didn’t stop the skirt from being torn off, but it did get him to growl, Sabbath finding he was incensed by her screams. He didn’t want her to make those sounds, didn’t want her to scream unless it was in pleasure. He found himself growling, and her eyes went huge, the slave staring at him shocked.

“You don’t scream.” Sabbath told her, voice a gruff growl. “You don’t so much as whimper unless I give you permission to. Is that understood?” He had to repeat himself one more time before she gave the smallest of nods, and still he wasn’t satisfied. He tossed the silk skirt onto the bed, then brought both his hands to rest on her spread thighs. More and more he found himself wanting to lean in and smell her, her scent calling to him, making him want to roll it all over his body.

With a frown, Sabbath shook his head, not understanding this strange impulse of his. She was watching him, eyes anxious and wondering what he would do next. His cock was given insistent reminders of it’s rock hard state, making demands of his body and what he should be doing to hers. Sabbath found himself wondering why he was hesitating so long, why he had allowed moments to go by without so much as a touch on her sex.

“Witch.” He decided, not caring if she knew that word. She really had to have cast a spell on him, but it wasn’t strong enough to keep him from making her his. He smiled then, liking the thought, wanting to possess her in the way she was attempting to posses him.

“HMPGH!” She sounded insulted then, forgetting his order to not make a sound. Sabbath should have punished her then for that, but instead he found himself longing to hear what she had to say.

“I’m going to remove this gag. You will not scream.” His warning was an order, Sabbath using his claws to slice through the gag’s silk. It was neatly severed into two parts, the silk falling away from her mouth. She inhaled, chest rising in the process, and the flashing of her eyes alerted him to the fact she was about to disobey his command.

He didn’t do any of the things he should to gain control of her, he didn’t slap her or pull her hair, and he most certainly didn’t find his way inside her, least not with his stiff prick. Instead Sabbath brought his mouth to cover hers, the kiss meant to do more than just swallow up her scream. He meant to own her through his kiss, Sabbath pressing firmly against her lips, his tongue thrusting past teeth. Her jaw did not so much as clench, she wasn’t trying to bite him, stunned into submission by what he had done.

He smiled in triumphant, even as he was lost to the sensations of kissing her. It affected him more than a kiss should have, nerves tingling down his body, alive with pleasure and awareness of HER. He held the presence of mind to curse, but couldn’t stop himself from pulling back, Sabbath continuing to tease his tongue against the slave’s. She made muffled sounds, but she didn’t seem to be protesting as much as she could have, his fingers winding themselves into her hair and holding her steady with that grip.

He kissed her, the way he had never kissed a woman before, neither noble, whore, or slave. He tried to both learn her through the kiss, and gentle her, Sabbath taking the time to explore her mouth’s every contour. He kept right on kissing her, even when breathing through the nose became not enough, his lungs demanding he break apart and breathe.

Her whimpers became distressed, and only then did he break the kiss, regret in his every action as he listened to her pant and wheeze for air. And he STILL wanted to kiss her, Sabbath staring almost dreamy eyed at her swollen lips. What power they held, the power to move him, surely the power to crumble civilizations with their magic. He was more convinced then ever that she was some sort of witch, and yet he didn’t care, moving in to kiss her once more.

She managed a squeak before he covered her mouth, Sabbath rolling his tongue against hers, doing an urgent dance with it and his hips. He felt as though he was losing control of his body, Sabbath thrusting his groin against hers, the fit between her spread thighs snug. He suddenly wanted to slice through all her ropes, to free her to move with him. But there was danger in that thought, his cheek still ached from where she had scratched him, Sabbath mindful of her nails. He had no illusions that she’d try to escape him if free, and he didn’t want to let her go for even one-second to have to chase her down.

This time he didn’t kiss her to the point of near suffocation, though his slave still seemed shaky from the experience she had had at his lips. He nipped at the plump bottom one, a gentle bite that teased rather than stung. It was more affection than he should have shown a slave, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from doing that. Nor could he keep from kissing down past her chin, planting moist kisses on her throat.

She had yet to be collared, leaving him a wide expanse of skin to play his lips on. He sought to brand her with his lips, Sabbath working to darken the skin with hickeys that would let all who saw them know she was already claimed. A collar would come later, bearing his insignia as label of his ownership. It was for her sake as well as his comfort of mind, Sabbath knowing only the foolish would dare touch an owned slave without permission.

With his face buried against her neck, her scent was all the more apparent, Sabbath growing more frenzied around her. His hands began exploring her, touching her thighs, and lifting her rump off the bed so that he could feel the roundness of her rear. He nipped and bit at her pulse point, even as his fingers massaged her bottom, the slave making noise, muttering protests in her own native language.

Sucking at her pulse point, his fingers digging into her skin, he felt lost, like a young man with his first woman. Why was this slave having such an effect on him, why did she make him take his time and show such care to her? He moaned, feeling her pulse throb wildly against his lips, showing her heightened emotions. She still didn’t seem as afraid as a woman might in her position, more angry and put out than anything, although his wandering hands surely made her worry.

One last suck on her pulse, and then he was licking down to the crook of her shoulder, biting her there. It was not a gentle nip, Sabbath trying to mark her with his teeth, hearing her squeak out in pain.

“Forgive me little one…” He soothed, his voice gentle even as his emotions were not. He wanted to mark her all over, make her cry out and grow as frenzied for him as he was for her.

“Untie me.” She shocked him by speaking his language, Sabbath pulling back enough to stare at her. “Please…I won’t go anywhere…”

“Not yet.” He answered at last, to her disappointment. She seemed to sag back against the bed’s mattress, eyes looking so frustrated he just knew she had lied to him. She still wasn’t tamed, would still try to run given the first available opportunity.

“When?” She demanded, as his huffed his warm breath over one breast. “When will you untie me?” Sabbath avoided answering her by opening his mouth, popping one of those mouth watering nipples inside it. Any further questioning she would have done was lost to her shocked cries, the slave letting out a loud moan. She was especially vocal when he flicked and curled his tongue around her nipple, the little bud growing stiffer at his insistent sucking.

He was a lover of breasts, especially when presented with as fine a specimen as this slave’s was. His fingers had transferred their grip from her ass to her breasts, tips sinking into the mounds. He kneaded and massaged her flesh, and took time to switch between nipples, never leaving one neglected for more than a minute at a time. His constant switching between nipples seemed to drive her mad, the slave whining, crying out a please.

“Please?” He rumbled in amusement. “Please what, little one?”

Where once she had been so angry, now she just looked lost, staring at him with a hopeless expression. “I ache.” She answered at last, wiggling beneath him.

“Ache where?” he inquired, tongue darting out to lick roughly over one stiff nipple.

“Everywhere!” Came her answer, and she wriggled again, the look in her eyes desperate.

“Here?” He asked, squeezing her breasts, and she gave him her first blush.

“Yes.” She nodded, and he smiled at her.

“What about here?” His fingers touched between her legs, and that blush of hers deepened though she remained silent. He thought she wasn’t going to answer, and then she was nodding, unable to meet his eyes. He parted the lips of her sex, finding she was damp, his slave squirming at his touch. Her face was so red, he thought she might pass out from embarrassment, Sabbath purposefully touching his tongue to her left nipple, as his fingers continued to stroke over her flesh.

“Hmmm!” She couldn’t hold in that sweet moan of hers, the slave’s head falling back against the mattress. He continued to run fingertips over the furled folds of her flesh, smearing the moisture she was producing everywhere. The more he touched, the more she produced, until she was positively drenched with it.

He couldn’t resist tasting her, bringing his damp fingers to his mouth, touching his tongue to them. A moan escaped him, Sabbath finding his slave was sweet all over, and then was all but tearing open the front of his pants. He noted with some amusement how her eyes widened at the sight of his cock, she looked almost frightened, shivering violently the instant she came to the realization that he was going to enter inside her.

“Do….don’t…” She bit out, even as he positioned himself between her legs. The way she was tied, there was just enough spread to allow him to fit between her thighs, the girl offered up to him as the tempting morsel that she was.

“You want this…” He told her, dipping his head to kiss at her lips once more. “You want me…”

“You’re deluded!” She exclaimed, before her words were lost to his kiss. He fed from her mouth, even as he began rubbing his cock against her sex, teasing them both and getting moisture on the head. She made protests, but Sabbath wouldn’t let her voice them, coaxing her tongue into his mouth so that he could suck on the tip of it. She seemed to REALLY like that, relaxing enough against him that he decided it was the perfect moment to mount her.

Eyes closed, concentrating on the feel of her, he began to push inside her. His eyes snapped open when he came up against a thin barrier, she looked equally as shocked as he did.

“You’re a virgin?” He managed to moan when he broke the kiss, and her blush was answer enough. The question took just seconds, his body still moving, pushing insistently against her hymen. He had a few virgins in his life before, and knew enough to know his immense size would cause her pain no matter how well prepared her body was to receive him.

He dipped his lips towards her right ear, and bit down on the delicate lobe, his sharp teeth distracting her somewhat from the pain of her lost virginity. She still shrieked, loud enough that he winced, but Sabbath was rapidly going to that mindless place that only cared about pleasure and satisfaction. Hands on her hips, he began thrusting, perhaps more rough than he should have for an untried body. He could hear her making fitful noises, and was surprised when his own voice answered hers, Sabbath whispering soothing words.

It seemed to calm his slave down enough, at least to listen to what he said, though in truth Sabbath could not tell just what he was saying. Not when he was so lost to the feel of her, body so tight and possessive, muscles clinging as though they would never let go. Her tensing didn’t help, he found it almost difficult to move, and he adjusted his grip on her, to wrap his arms around her torso.

His face ended up buried against the crook of her shoulder, Sabbath inhaling her sweet scent, and the musk of her bodies. His hips continued to pump into hers, and he realized he was moaning things into her flesh. She felt so good, even the word amazing did not do justice for how this slave felt around him. She was warm, a heat he felt searing all the way down to his toes, Sabbath purring now.

She was everything he could have wanted, no one else would have been able to satisfy him the way she did, he wouldn’t want anyone else to try. He wondered why, and then with her scent in his nose, and her body ingrained in his cells, he came, semen pouring out of him in a hot gush. And with it a realization, Sabbath lifting his head to stare shocked at her.

Her own face was equally as shocked, staring back at him with her lips parted. “You…you’re…” He didn’t want to say it, as if not speaking the word would somehow keep the realization from being true. And yet once the word was in his mind, it was as though he was compelled to speak, Sabbath whispering in a broken voice. “My mate…”

He didn’t know what her people believed in, didn’t know if they came close to mating like Drules did. But she didn’t deny him, just staring at him, eyes wet with unshed tears. He immediately began pulling out of her, claws slicing through all the ropes of her bondage. He was prepared for her to strike him, to beat him bloody as she vented out her rage for what he had done to her. It was the least he would deserve, forcing himself on his own mate like this.

And yet she did none of those things, just staring at him, until he couldn’t bear the weight of her looks anymore. He turned to flee her, and she did the last thing he expected, flinging her arms around him. One hug and he was undone, just going limp in her arms as she cradled him to her.

“Romelle…” She whispered in his ears. “I am….”

“ROMELLE!” Romelle jumped at the sound of Sabbath’s voice, hearing her husband calling to her from deep within their apartment at the Drule embassy. She blinked rapidly, looking up from her computer monitor, where her work in progress novel lay, exposed to anyone who would look it’s way.

“I’m here!” She called from the den, quickly moving to save and close the document. She didn’t want Sabbath knowing about her little hobby, didn’t want him to know that she had progressed from reading romance novels to writing them. At least not until she wrote her first bestseller, and began raking in the money.

“Coming!” Sabbath said, and she could hear him moving through their apartment. She was glad he had called out to her, Romelle not sure what he would think of her using them as the stars of her first attempt at a novel. She didn’t think he would be mad, but she feared he might tease her. And she was well aware of what kind of teasing she preferred, and how it could distract her from everything else.

Smiling, her husband strode into the den, his stiff suit’s shirt already unbuttoned part way. She knew he hated dressing up for embassy duties, Sabbath preferring to lounge about shirtless or in soft leather. But appearances had to be kept up when duty called, and Romelle often enjoyed stripping him free of his hated suits.

She rose from her seat before the computer, a dazzling smile on her face as she hurried to meet her husband. He tossed the suit jacket in one corner of the room, pausing in his undressing to greet her with a kiss. Romelle got a good grip on his shirt, fingers digging into the fabric as she went up on tip toe. His kiss alone was enough to weaken her knees, but she was already half aroused from the scene she had been writing before he had come home.

“I missed you.” Sabbath never failed to tell her that, no matter how long or short their time apart was. Romelle knew if he could get away with it, he’d never leave her side, keeping her in a state of delirious satisfaction.

“I missed you too.” She told him, trying to climb up his body. His hands found her bottom, supporting her climb as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Somehow they found themselves against a wall, Romelle’s back pressed into it as she purred. “I’ve thought about you all day…”

“Good. That’s how it should be, between mates.” Sabbath rumbled in approval, and his nostrils flared. She knew then he had caught scent of her arousal, Romelle’s panties wet, sex aching for him. Such was her effect on him, that his pants immediately grew tight across his cock, his erection pressing into her. She was shameless as she wiggled against it, trying to make him lose that last bit of control.

“Romelle…” Her name was a sweet moan on Sabbath’s lips, her Drule kissing her almost savagely. She began to grind against him, undulating her hips as she squealed into his lips. It wouldn’t take any more encouragement to get him to make love to her, her Drule husband always ready and willing to cater to her needs. And she to his, Romelle wanting to squeeze out every last drop of cum from his prick.

“I need you!” She cried out, refusing to loosen her hold on him even long enough for Sabbath to get his pants open. He seemed to swear, a fine bead of sweat trickling down one side of his face. Romelle leaned in to lap it up, Sabbath managing to get his hand between their bodies. He was still trying to keep his barbarian nature in check, trying to unzip his pants rather than shred them open with his nails.

She whined again, earning a louder curse from Sabbath, and the satisfying sound of fabric tearing. His hands went under her skirts, panties being roughly torn off her body, and then he was sinking inside her. She relished the feel of him, long length thick and hard, spreading her open and generating a delicious burn of friction. He leaned heavily into her, pressing her back harder into the wall as he geared up to do a great thrust.

Her own hands gripped at his braids now, Romelle tugging on them as they began to work each other over. Each tug of his hair seemed to make Sabbath even wilder, his eyes flashing with savagery as he leaned in to steal kisses, and nip at her neck. Romelle moaned and purred, squeezing him with her muscles, trying to hold him prisoner inside her, her body protesting each time he tried to withdraw.

It was a frantic coupling, both of them gyrating, and moving their hips in tandem. She was grateful for the soundproofing of their apartment, for surely the other residents in the embassy would hear her screams, and Sabbath’s furious growls. It might frighten other people, but to Romelle it was music to her ears, the princess tugging on his braids so that he looked up in time for her to score a kiss on his lips.

The friction continued to build up between them, and just when she thought she could take no more, she was brought over the edge, her climax earning a scream and a rippling motion of pleasure through her every nerve. It was a pleasure she returned to her husband. Romelle clamping down on his cock, squeezing him again and again, and earning a savage roar from Sabbath.

Somehow when it was all over, they ended up slumped down on the carpeted floor, legs still entangled around one another as she rested against his chest. She listened to his breathing, Sabbath purring as he stroked fingers through her hair. Romelle knew she wore an equally love struck expression on her face, and the girl nearly giggled as she wondered if she could transcribed even one ounce of their passion to the pages of her book.
The End…

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