“That’s right. Alf was drawn into your vortex of disobedience, as was Darma, though I cannot and will not blame you for what Darma does. He remains a law unto himself. But you will never be. You are mine, and you will behave yourself, my pet.”
Those words were for her benefit. They did not stop him from whipping her with the cane one more time and turning to the crowd in the midst of her plaintive cries.
“You see this human, my pet, the love of my life, possession of the crown, and you see that I punish her just as sternly as any other criminal. You, as my people, will never suffer for the misbehavior of those attached to the crown. This is my promise, and pledge to you all.”
There was a cheer from the crowd, which prompted Dominax to land a fifth stroke to her burning cheeks. Katie wailed for forgiveness, but she knew she didn’t deserve it. If she had committed these crimes on Earth, she would have been sent to jail. Here she would spend her life collared, fucked, caned, and the pet of the king. No matter how much he punished her, she was getting off lightly compared to life in prison, and she knew it.
That didn’t stop it from fucking hurting. And it didn’t stop the slick moisture between her thighs from gathering with every harsh stroke. Her body was betraying her again with that arousal response. The crueler and rougher he was, the more she wanted him, the more her body readied her for ravishment.
"What is this?” He swiped two fingers across her slit and brought them around under her nose, gleaming proof of her debasement. This was not a proper response. She was supposed to be outraged and cowed, not aroused and somehow more alive than ever before.
But the pain was becoming something else, transformed by a perverted process inside her flesh into something which stimulated her deeply. And the onlookers had gone from being instruments of shame to an audience for the most intense desire she had ever experienced.
He was right. She was a spoiled brat. She would never submit, because submission wasn’t in her DNA. Doing battle with a powerful male and losing, that was the closest she would ever get. The pain he imparted so roughly was an essential ingredient for her pleasure. She needed to lose, to be broken, to feel pain and to suffer under tyranny. It was twisted and perverse, but the truth often was.
“Explain yourself, pet,” Dominax growled, slapping her ass with his hand, his fingers curling underneath her cheeks to find her pussy. Once, twice, three times he slapped her cunt with heavy swats which made her grind her wet little clit against the royal throne.
“Unnhhhhhhhhhh…” she moaned by way of explanation, feeling her face flush hot with embarrassment.
“You little…”
Suddenly, the cane was cast aside, and the king was atop her, plunging inside her, his cock spearing deep inside her tight, wet cunt. She screamed as he ravaged her with rough strokes, pulling on her hair as he claimed her with great passion before the clamoring audience.
“Oh my fucking god… oh my fucking…” she grunted like an animal, as Dominax pounded her over the throne, picking her up from the arm to instead fuck her on the royal seat itself, her legs spread wide over the armrests, her pussy spread wide for his rough cock. She watched as the king’s massive cock disappeared inside her time and time again, emerging covered in the glistening juices of her swollen pink cunt.
She felt something welling inside her. Something like pleasure, but greater, and more important. All the pain of having her ass pushed against the padded seat, a merciless position for a freshly caned pet, was traveling up her spine and melding with the pleasure.
There was a lot of pressure and energy inside her, carnal and otherwise. With every stroke, that pressure intensified until she simply could not stand it anymore. She threw back her head and screamed, a cry of more than climax, or pain. It was a cry of transformation as her wings burst free, escaping the confines of her human flesh to extend twice the length of her own body with enough force to lift her into the air above Dominax’s thrusting rod.
Suddenly, she was flying. She was soaring, spectacularly naked and striped with red cane marks, above the heads of thoroughly confused and astounded merchants.
Nobody was more surprised than she was. She had wondered how long it would take her to learn to use her wings, if she would fall from a great height if she tried to fly and be stuck like a baby bird on some lava peninsula. But they felt as though they had always been part of her, hardwired into her body and brain. A single flap made her rocket up, and then a cant forward at the leading edge, and she was soaring above the crowd, her pussy dipping sex atop the heads of a few lucky merchants who happened to be struck by the droplets.