Chapter Text
The truck rumbles, occasionally briefly throwing you into the air when a particularly hard bit of ground is hit. König keeps his eyes on the road ahead, focused on getting to the forest. You look back, seeing the base you’ve grown familiar with fade out of vision. Your skin prickles, as if trying to pull away from you and escape while it can. König, your Colonel, had requested you to help with a small mission. Just the two of you. He hasn’t given you much information, and you’d prefer not to ask. The more you can cut down on your interactions, the better. You keep your facade of being calm, sitting straight and alert at König’s side. There’s something wrong with this ”mission”, and your colonel has been confident enough to not hide it. He requested that neither of you bring extra ammo or guns, leaving you only with a knife, and him with a pistol.
He knows, and you’re sure of it. He knows what you are and you don’t have long to live. It’s a cruelly slow execution, starting with this drive, and ending with a bullet in your brain. Two years ago, you joined KorTac. A private military that primarily hires hybrids, shapeshifters, and other humanoid creatures that excel in taking lives. You were one of the exceptions, a human who managed to perfectly fit into the criteria. You were just able to complete their tests to their standards, just within their expectations. And so, you spent the past two years taking their intel for a separate company. Two years ago, you unknowing sealed your fate, leading you to the slowly approaching forest, side by side with the man that will kill you. König hasn’t said anything for the hour ride, he’s only sat there in silence, focusing on taking you to your eventual grave. The vehicle slows to a stop in front of the scattered tree line. “Komm.” König barks out, his boots hitting the ground with a heavy thud.
He strides forward, leaving you to follow him like a lost puppy. The forest is quiet, serene with unknowing. You wish you could be like it, during times like this. Consistent, strong, long standing. König stops in a small clearing, turning slightly to look down at you. It’s big enough just for the two of you before the circling trees fill your path again. His eyes narrow on you, pupils constricting until barely visible. His body is tense, as if constricting its own movements, pulling on muscles that want to snap free and tear into you. König walks in a slow circle around you, probably sizing up his meal, you’d guess. “I could have interrogated and killed you by now.” You’re already well aware, but König is kind enough to remind you. “I should have. I’d be doing the world a favour.” He stops in front of you, only a pace away. The forest is still, nature stilling for the predator that’s stalked his way back into its arms.
“You’re playing with your food.” Your eyes meet König’s scrutinising glare, hoping that if you don’t look scared, he’ll get bored. Maybe if he’s discouraged enough, he’ll skip on disembowelling you and go straight to eating your head. To your surprise, an amused huff blows from König, disturbing the makeshift sniper veil that draped his head. “Who said I plan on eating you?” König’s laugh is forced, taunting you rather than applauding your stubbornness. “I wouldn’t let something like you go to waste.” His head cocks to the side, looking for your reaction with a predatory stare. He’s studying you, making note of every breath, the way your eyes widen in fear and how your weight shifts, ready to run from something unavoidable. Your brain goes eerily silent as König’s words click into your head, making the sounds of his breathing and the subtle murmurs of dancing leafs crash over your mind and drag you away. “I’m allowed to do as I please now, ja? Whoever you are working for won’t bother to take you back.” A more genuine laugh is present in König’s voice, as if he’s genuinely pleased by you being helpless. The pit in your stomach grows and buries deep into the molten layers of Earth as you realise König is right. You’ve gathered enough information and sent it off, the company you’re loyal to will only see this fate as a necessary sacrifice. One step is taken backwards, and another, trying to distance yourself from this physical manifestation of your upcoming predatory death. An animalistic death, one that rips the last autonomy of your body away from grieving hands.
König takes two steps forward, keeping the space between you both too thin. Cold metal reflects peering rays of light as you pull out your knife. It’s laughable, knowing you’re putting up a fight in a battle you’re predetermined to lose. “Don’t.” You hiss out, carefully shifting your grip on your knife - your lifeline. There’s nothing you can do to fight against König, rationally, but your body is simply acting on the want to survive now. Your skin breaks out sweat, but you feel cold with panic. König doesn’t blink at the sight of your knife. At this moment, he’s only focused on you, not your little toy.
“I wish I knew you were a spy sooner.” König cooed, as if looking down on a misbehaving child. “I would’ve had my way, instead of waiting years.” The smile on König’s face is audible as he goads you. He talks as if the ordeal is a simple inconvenience to his life. Maybe it is, when you’re at the top of the food chain. König doesn’t need to worry about little spies who have gotten too cocky; not when he already knows how he wants to handle you.
The idea makes your blood boil with shame and anger. Not only is König taunting you in your final moments, but he’s meticulously stripping away the last bit of dignity you have. Of course, König thinks otherwise, because how could someone with such a lowly job have dignity in the first place?
“I’ve thought about it. Breaking you in. Making you obedient, eager to please me.” König bends down slightly, making sure to have a clear view of your face twisting in disgust and sickening fear. You feel dizzy, the world playfully teetering side to side as you try not to hurl. König smiles at your reaction, evident by the way his eyes light up under the mask.
Your air is cut by König’s large hand over your windpipe, forcing a small hiss from you in an attempt to move air through your body. Sharp stinging ripples from your back and through your head as König picks you up from your bruised neck, slamming you against a tree. His hot breath hits your face through the fabric of his mask, unable to disguise the distinct smell of blood in his mouth. König’s forehead almost touches yours as he stares you down, an unnatural growl rumbling from his chest. In a last attempt to get out of König’s grasp, your hand yanks down on the excess fabric of his sniper veil. It shifts enough to let you see his lower jaw, though it’s quickly removed from your sight as your knuckles crack into his face.
Cold air swarms your lungs again as you’re dropped to the ground, collapsing under the weight of your own body. You look up at König standing over you, his mask ripped from where you had clawed at it. Something shifts underneath, unnatural movements poking at the fabric. A sickening noise sounds from underneath, like bone being broken and cracked. Two sets of horns tear through the mask, protruding from some spot over König’s eyebrows and bending backwards, each horn twisting around is a spiral. Instinct takes control, and you force yourself to run before you’re fully off the ground. Dirt gives away under you, disturbed by your strive to live. You don’t dare look back, not when you can hear heavy panting and thrashing of something too big to sprint past trees without splintering them.
Branches whip and lash at you, leaving burning slashes on your face and hands. You hook your hand against a tree, sliding low to make a sharp turn among some bushes. You crawl behind a boulder, pressing yourself against the overgrown roots. They clutch onto the surrounding stone and dirt, making a mound that shields you. Your lungs sear, screaming with pain from your lack of oxygen. You don’t grant them relief yet, not when König will be scouring the area for you. Small breaths leave you, measured and silent. Your body cries for more, but you push away your need. Pressing a hand to your nose, your hands angrily turn red and sensitive from rubbing against dirt and bark, leaving them raw. Your muscles stiffen as your other hand smooths back your hair, feeling something thicker than your sweat. Bringing the hand back down, you see red. Only a few drops, barely a noticeable amount. Everything has stopped, as if the world around you has spotted your mistake. The forest around you spins in dizzying circles around you, blurring into earthy browns and thriving greens that keenly watch your futile escape. Iron hits your nose, and only then do you remember that König can detect blood. Yet, there’s not a single sound. Even the wind has found new lands, no longer rattling leaves to laugh at you.
“Dummes Mädchen." König growls, his towering frame stalking around the bend of the boulder. He moves in front of you, crouching down to your level. You try to move away, desperately kicking at the dirt under you, only stupidly pressing your back into the cold stone behind you. König grabs at your wrist, tugging it under his torn veil. His tongue is uncomfortably warm and wet, saliva clinging to your skin. A rumble sounds from König as he laps at the few droplets of blood, and you swear you see his eyes nearly roll back in his head. “You taste good.” Dropping your hand, König shifts closer to your towering form, effortlessly dwarfing you. His shadow swallows you, leaving you with no light or room to bleed. You shut your eyes, silently praying he bites your head off in only one bite. The feeling of an unnatural tongue returns, running down a small cut on your face. It’s thick, smelling strongly of blood, and leaves its spit lathered on your cheek. Another sound comes from König, a more shrill rumbling, uncanny and alarming. He’s purring, you soon realise, its sound matching König’s monstrous nature.
A fist balls against your scalp, scooping up your hair and tugging you to your feet. Your eyes open again, looking up to see the lower half of König’s face. The upper half is still covered, but you’ve been granted the sight of patchy stubble on his jaw and neck. Most of your attention is turned to the scar on König’s top lip, carving upwards, stopping at some point along his nostril. It wasn’t tended to properly, causing it to permanently be an angry pink, tugging at the skin across König’s face. As he talks, it makes the left side of his face move unnaturally, not allowing the muscles around his cheek to move freely. “I was supposed to be on leave this week. Do you want to guess why, meine Mädchen?” He snarls in your face, both your noses almost touching each other. Your scalp burns as König drags you by the hair, forcing you to stand on your toes so he doesn’t completely rip it off. You spit on König’s shoe, glaring up at him as he puffs bitter air onto your face. His neck is craned down to have your face this close to his, slouching down and leaning over you.
Something burns in König’s expression as he registers your defiance. Nonetheless, he continues with a snarl. “I’m supposed to be on fucking leave because of this.” Abruptly, König presses his hips to your abdomen, forcing his strained cock against you. Your eyes shut, trying to bring your mind away from König’s need. Another growl rumbles through König, this time you're able to feel how it makes his chest vibrate. The hand in your hair roughly tugs again, forcing your head to bend down to look at the outline of König’s erection through his pants. “I take time off for my rut, but eine kleiner Spionin decided to make me work overtime.” König’s face presses to the top of your head, deeply inhaling your hair. The heat coming from his cock is uncomfortable, warming your skin even through both of your clothes. König presses his hips down even more, letting out a low groan. “I should let myself breed you, then maybe you’ll learn to be smarter.” His head dips down, growling the words into your ear. His tongue flicks out, pressing against your pulse under your ear. “I’d rather die.” You hiss out, making a weak attempt at some sort of threat, though König thinks it’s quite cute. Like a small scared animal, helpless in his hands. Your whole life, toyed with as he tugs your hair and forces you to meet his eyes.
“I won’t let you die, pretty girl.” König chuckles, shaking his head, patronising you for being so stupid. His tone is deceptively sweet, forcing your stomach to churn in disgust. “I’ll think I’ll keep you around base, after I’m done.” He thinks out loud, slightly distant as he thinks about the possibilities. You can’t think to respond, beyond horrified by the lengths König is willing to go to punish you for your betrayal. Meanwhile, his cock painfully throbs at the idea of keeping you in his quarters, maybe trapped to the bed with a collar. You’d be dependent on him, relying on König for every little thing. Alone all day, you’d be looking forward to whenever König came back to you, ready to bruise and fill your cunt. He hopes you’d be grateful, begging for more until your body can’t keep up. Another long purr vibrates through König’s chest and his hand moves back, pulling out your knife from your belt.
The blunt side pushes to your chin, cold steel against your burning skin. Your heart slams against the inside of your skull, loudly reverberating, begging to be heard before it finally stops. König dips the knife down, to the collar of your shirt. You hadn’t noticed the throbbing pain in your head, only once König removes his hand and the pain dissipates do you realise the painful burn on your scalp. Opting to hold onto the side of the collar of your shirt and pulling the fabric slightly, König’s other hand presses down, letting the knife dig through the fabric. Reading your thoughts, König is quick to intervene. “Move an inch and it’s going in your neck.” He huffs, watching carefully as the material of your shirt frays and bursts open, slowly revealing your defenceless body. With a tear, the shirt is cut fully open, forcing a gasp from you as fresh air is exposed to your skin. It sends chills down your body, forcing you into the open. You take a step back, until your palms and back hit the uneven wall of rock. You might understand what Sartre meant now, when he talked about wanting to sink into the wall. You desperately wish your life was in your own hands right now, but they aren’t. It’s dependent on whether or not the man behind you decides to either fuck you or eat you. The former is more likely.
The shirt is ripped off your arms, falling to the floor in a limp pile. You want to cover up, to grab the leftovers of your shirt and try to hide from König, but you know better. His pupils dilate once his skin is against yours. He’s moved his hand off the broken shirt, instead slowly rubbing his thumb down your collarbone. He continues to purr as rough skin dips into the delicate curve of collarbone, and back out to your chest. The knife slices through the front of your bra with ease, no different from a warm butterknife against butter. It joins your shirt on the ground, no longer necessary or of use. König bends down, meeting your eyes. You can’t focus on him, the world feels too overwhelming. You’re sure the ground is teetering under you, making your legs weak and unsteady. The forest and König’s face is blurred, distorted from tears. It’s not like you wanted to see him, anyways. “Ach, hush. I won’t hurt you.” König whispers to you, a look too soft in his eyes for what he has planned. You’re not sure when he put away the knife, or where it is, but the hand holding it gently cups the side of your face. König’s thumb rubs back and forth on your cheek, as if trying to comfort you. “Hold still and everything will be fine.” His head dips out of your direct vision, down towards your breasts.
Your eyes shut, not willing to see how König plans to entertain himself. Air puffs over your right breast, uncomfortably warm. Too warm, it clings to your skin, unwilling to let you rest. A pressure is added, before the slick and soft feeling of a tongue. König’s mouth latches to your breast, fitting as much as he can into his mouth. His tongue, too long and pointed to be a human’s, circles your nipple. A moan builds up in your throat, begging to be released into the chilled forest air. König starts to suck on your breast, his tongue unrelenting in teasing your nipple. Large hands rub up and down over your hips and waist, trying to calm you down. A pleased hum vibrates in König’s throat, reverberating onto your sensitive skin. König’s head pulls back, harshly sucking a few more times before releasing your breast. You shiver, the spit dribbling down your chest quickly becoming cold. You gasp out as König begins to suck on your other breast, becoming increasingly aggressive as he continues. His tongue laps over your nipple, forcing it to bud against him. Teeth dig in slightly, just enough to remind you of their imposing nature. A whimper breaks past your resolve, earning a rumbling chuckle from the colonel. His hands stop over the dip of your waist, carefully feeling down the curve of your hips. Calloused skin slides to your lower back, before dipping down to grab at your ass. Your eyes flit open from the sudden grab, and König is quick to start roughly kneading at the flesh in his palms. He’s by no means gentle, your skin burns and screams whenever he pulls or pushes at your sore body. There’s a tightening in your stomach, shameful and too hot to let your body stand still comfortably.
Blue eyes stare up at you, watching your facial expressions with a pleased gleam. König’s mouth releases your breast, once again making you fragile to the cold air. Hot breath grants you warmth again, this time padding over your sternum as König appreciates his own work. Your breasts are covered in unnaturally thick saliva, lazily dripping down the curve of your tits. The area of your nipples and areolas are swollen from the assault of König’s mouth, leaving them stinging and reddened. König’s lips curl up at the sight, drinking in how pretty his efforts have left you. To your surprise, König plants a hard kiss to your sternum, pressing his face between your aching breasts. His shoulders rise as he inhales, trying to take in your scent. You're enveloped in shadow again as König rises to his full height, instantly dwarfing you, reminding you of your position as a caged animal. “Are you ready, Mädchen?” You’re turned around by your shoulders as you’re struck by fear of what is likely a warning, rather than genuine worry. There’s an underlying tone in König’s loving tone that tells you to be ready, whether you want to or not. Large hands leave your shoulder, quickly moving to hook fingers under your pants and force them down. The tug burns your skin with friction, but you’re distracted by the cold air hitting your overheating cunt. Shame blossoms in your ribs and crawls up, making its presence known through reddened skin. König’s hands rub along your body again, this time settling right above your underwear. They inch to the front of your stomach, each strong hand over your hip bones. A shaky, low sigh to the top of your head causes some stray hairs to justle. “You’re mine to own. Mine to breed.” König’s cheek settles atop your head, nestling into your hair and scent. The idea causes vomit to rise to the back of your throat, threatening to escape. You don’t think you’d mind at this point, it might give you borrowed time. To your disappointment, it dissipates, but the swirling nausea and weakness in you swirls and grows, alarmed by the very concept of carrying König’s children. You want to protest, to fight against König and make him ever regret viewing you in this way, playing with you as if you’re his personal toy. The boiling thoughts escape you as König yanks your underwear down, adding to the pooling fabric at your ankles. A hand returns to the perch of your waist, and König’s body presses forward, made evident by the angry erection rubbing against your ass and lower back. The weight of König’s head rests on your shoulder, holding you close. It’s too intimate, it feels violating to be pressed along König’s body, as if you two are lovers. As if you want to be any part of this.
Blissfully ignorant, König does think you want this. He’s sure of it, when two of his fingers part your pussy to see your clit. It looks desperate, needy for him. It doesn’t bother him when a ragged hiss bursts from your lips as he exposes your delicate skin. He assumes it’s because of the cold air, only highlighting how hot and wet he’s made you. Lucky for you, König plans on being a good partner, and is more than willing to satisfy you. For a moment, he wonders how you’d taste. The thought is set aside for now, König knows he’ll have plenty of time to lick and bite every part of you later. Lulling you into false security, König allows your lips to close again, only to roughly press the pads of his pointer and middle fingers to rub at your clit. You cry out, unsure if it’s from pleasure or pain. He starts at a fast speed, not allowing you to get used to the pressure on your nerves. Your body writhes, hips bucking and twitching. The dryness of König’s fingers burn, but the sensitivity of your body wants to give in to the idea that this could feel good. König seems to mistake your cry out for solely pleasure, and a wet kiss is planted under your jaw. The fingers rub down, moving away from your clit and to your entrance. They don’t push in, instead König relishes in the feeling of your muscles clenching at nothing.
“Don’t run this time. It’ll be easier on you.” A last kiss is pressed to your earlobe, before you’re released by König’s arms. The idea of turning over your shoulder to see what’s happening is quickly stamped down when the sound of a zipper being undone rings in your ears.
“Hold onto something.” The sound of metal hitting the ground - König’s belt, you assume - calls out. Your body practically moves on its own, desperate for some sort of mercy from your former colonel. Your hands grab onto the jagged boulder, bending your body forward so that you may reach it without risking angering König. It seems to get a good reaction from him, for better or worse. Something hot presses against your entrance, wet and thick. Your head hangs down between your shoulders, wanting to avoid seeing any sort of glimpse of what’s to come. With a slow push of König’s hips, he watches as your cunt gratefully swallows him.
It stings, emphasised by the cry of pain your throat forces out. The ring of muscle at your entrance tries to close, hoping to push König out. It’s useless, of course, made evident by the way you're being forced to stretch open. A quiet whine slips from your throat, to which König responds to. “That’s only the tip, Schatz.” He laughs, lazily rolling his hips forward. “I’m going to leave you broken. You won’t be able to think of anyone else but me.” A hand gropes your ass, roughly squeezing until another whine is forced from you. You can feel each drag of his cock against your walls, every prominent vein and the dip in his flesh under the head. It drags out, just until the flare of the head uncomfortably stretches your entrance, before pushing in deeper in a quick thrust. König does this a few times, each thrust forcing himself deeper in you. He savours the small noises you try to stop, clamping your mouth shut in hope that you can keep some sort of autonomy.
König gets tired of waiting for your body to relax enough for him. He knows he’ll have the rest of your life to train you to take his cock anyways, so it can’t hurt to be a little selfish this once. In a sudden thrust, König bottoms out in you, his hips slamming into your ass with painful force. A sob shakes your shoulders, the force of König’s movements causing you to flinch. It takes all your strength to not move away in an attempt to relieve the aching stretch you’re being forced through. His cock sits warm inside you, too hot to enjoy the feeling. It pushes against your cervix, sending a shock of pain up your abdomen and to your stomach.
“Shhh, it’s ok. You can take it.” König slowly moves his hips back, letting his cock drag against your aching cunt. It elicits a different response from your body this time, to your own frustration. König notices, a groan leaving him as your walls flutter and try to clench, silently protesting the absence of his dick. “You do want my children, ja?” You can hear the excitement in König’s voice, and your muscle reflexively tightens in fear. He takes it as a yes, and continues his fucked up version of praise as he starts to roughly pound into you. “I’m going to fill you. You’re going to take every single drop I give you.” His voice stutters with every rough thrust, punctuated by the cruel slam of his hips into yours.
A burning builds up in your stomach, gently tugging at your rational thoughts and begging for a release. You’re unsure of when your pained whines were replaced by moans, but it’s clear König is loving the needy noises you’re making. His thrusts become fast, before you can process how deep König buries into you he’s pulled away and snapped back, using you as if you were made for this. As far as König is concerned, that statement rings true.
“Look at me. Look at me while I fuck my kids into you.” König’s free hand balls your hair, carelessly tugging back so you're looking up, your neck stretched in an uncomfortable angle. It makes it harder to hide your moans, now clear for König to listen to. Your eyes open, seeing König pressing against you to watch your face. The hand on your ass relents, though it's already left its mark in the form of purple bruises. It takes position under your jaw, with König’s thick fingers digging into the skin of your face. His thumb and pointer wedge into your cheeks, forcing your mouth open.
König’s mouth opens as well, and you can see his tongue poke out of his mouth, tense but hanging low. Saliva collects at the tip, slowly building up until it loses balance. The string falls into your own mouth, right to the back of your tongue, eliminating your chance of easily spitting it out. König’s fingers leave your jaw, only for his hand to forcefully close your mouth. You swallow the spit, its taste reminiscent of blood. The taste lingers, clinging to your palette and throat. The grip in your hair resigns, opting to slip down your back, around your waist, and then around to your belly. His hand gently rubs the area as König growls in your ear. “You’re going to be so full. You were made to be fucked like this.” König’s hand on your neck reflexively tightens, forcing another scared noise from you. He slouches over your body, pressing his forehead into your hair.
Purring sounds again, that same unnaturally shrill and rumbly noise playing against your body. You choke out a moan as König’s cock manages to bury itself deeper, painfully bullying your cervix. It hurts in a delicious way, sending waves of pleasure through your weak limbs whenever König forces you to stretch around him. It’s electrifying and too much all at once, making your vision blur from overstimulation and bliss. König’s groans have started to sound more like heavy pants and huffs, and his angle changes slightly. You stand on your toes, trying to follow König’s movement. Only when sharp claws dig into your face and jaw do you realise what happened. You force yourself to look over your shoulder, your chin resting on your own shoulder as leverage for the odd angle.
Instead of the scarred, manic smile König wore before, you’re greeted with a large goat skull with teeth that are too sharp. Blue irises glow from the inside, focused on your face. The mouth opens, releasing a thick tongue, long and coloured a deep red. Steaming saliva drips from its maw and tongue, dripping onto your back and shoulder. His cock feels almost painfully hot now, only adding to the burning of the new stretch your body is enduring. König’s thrusts have lost their pace, instead choosing to slam into your ass as fast and rough as it can manage. More tears blur your vision, and you let your head drop down again, looking away from König. His tongue presses to your back, lapping up your sweat and enjoying the taste of your skin. His hands grab at your hips, forcing them to meet his reckless thrusts. Nails bite into the flesh of your hips, spilling more tears from your eyes.
Everything quickly starts to become too much. The tension in your abdomen is ready to snap, tugging on your skin and setting your body on fire. Your legs become shaky and you desperately grab at the jutted boulder in an attempt to stay still. Muscle involuntarily tense and contract, snatching away the last sliver of control you had. Electricity courses through your limbs, and the warm feeling of König’s heavy cock kissing your cervix causes the last string of your resolve to set ablaze and snap. Your hips reflexively writhe, moving against König’s hips in an attempt to keep him buried in you as your orgasm fogs your senses. Liquid runs down your inner thighs, running down the contours of your legs and meeting the dirt beneath you. Your head buzzes and your senses dull, leaving you surprised when you notice sharp pain in your shoulder.
König’s jaws clamp down into tender flesh, small droplets of red bubbling past his teeth. You hiss out in pain as König lets go, your blood staining his fangs. His tongue slips out again, pressing down into your broken skin and lapping up the crimson liquid. The purring gets louder, pleased by the taste of you. König knows he promised himself to wait until tasting you, but surely this shouldn’t count. The bite stings, and König’s hot saliva doesn’t ease you. König nestles and rubs his face against the bleeding wound, rubbing the trickling violence all over the face of his Percht form. You’re both relieved and disappointed as you feel König pulling his hips back, dragging away your source of pleasure. He quickly snaps back, this time not moving away as he buries his cock in your warmth. Your cervix is bruised at this point, you’re sure of it. You feel the head of König’s intruding cock twitch against your cervix, further pushing against it. König’s body tenses, and his nails dig further into your skin as you try to squirm your hips away. With a low groan, warmth bubbles deep inside of you, nauseatingly thick and heavy. König doesn’t bother to pull out as he softens, instead taking a liking to wrapping his arms around your waist in a suffocating hug. The feeling of bone against your shoulder blade shifts to maimed skin, and the body behind you shrinks down. Still large, but no longer a bloodthirsty predator.
“Sehr gut, Schatz.” König rumbles, releasing you from that cage that his body acted as. He stands back to his full height, carefully pulling out of you with a pop. His cum dribbles out of you, much thicker than a human's load. Truthfully, König is disappointed to see his seed go to waste, but he’s reassured knowing he can try again whenever he feels like it. Maybe next time he’ll hold your legs over your head, forcing his come to flood your womb. The idea of finally impregnating you makes his cock twitch again, though König is smart enough to get you back to his quarters first. Pulling his pants and boxers back up, he keeps his eyes focused on your gaping hole. It continues to clench around nothing, begging to be filled again.
“Get dressed. We need to head back to base.” The kind mate that König is, he kneels down to pull your underwear back over your leaking cunt. He pulls up your pants as well, securing them back over the bleeding gashes he left on your hips. Not before giving it a brief lick, of course, he’d hate to waste something so delicious. “You’re going to kill me when we get back.” It’s not a question, you’re stating a fact. Your words are weak, barely able to push the air past your trembling lips.
König clicks his tongue in disappointment. “I already told you, Dummes Mädchen. I’ll be keeping you, not killing you.” He finds his shredded mask on the ground, placing it back over his head, his helmet soon following. You turn to face König, now stable enough to stand without clinging to the boulder like it’s your lifeline. He smiles as you face him, the mangled scar distorting his pleased expression. One of König’s hands smooths down your hair, the other gently clasping your chin to examine your face
“I’d rather you kill me.” Bitterness tears through your tone, rearing its head to König. He simply pats the side of your face, talking as if you were a spoiled child.
“Nein, meine Frau. I’ll take good care of you.” A kiss is pressed to your forehead, making you only want to claw away the skin. “Now, komm, unless you want me to drag you back.” König starts to walk back in the direction of the base, being well acquainted enough with the forest to know where he is. The bastard, he let you out here knowing he could track you without batting his eyes.
You trail back, staying close to König as the sun sets. You cross your arms over your chest, not wanting to be exposed to König for any longer. You’re not completely sure what will happen once you’re back at the base, but the very idea of being stuck there causes your stomach to churn. König’s eyes stay on you as you walk back. He’s nothing more than a predator who has finally caught his prey. “Don’t look so sad, meine Mädchen. This will be good for you.” He wraps an arm around you, keeping you close. In sight, within his control. It should have been like this from the start.