Seeder 3 (Patreon)

Somehow, Karen believed it. The way he spoke to her… the sense of mastery… it conveyed a familiarity. A supremacy over her that had to be sincere. No one could be so arrogant as to presume this dominance of her—her, Power Girl, the most boss-ass bitch the Justice Society or the Justice League had ever seen. Even Wonder Woman was a kindergarten teacher in comparison; she put people in time-out.

Karen straight-up smacked the shit out of them.

So if this guy, this voice, was talking to her like this… She lost her train of thought.

No matter how she racked her brain, it wasn’t enough. With every tentacle she felt sliding against her skin, she knew she would be the lewd receptacle for its swollen thrusts, take it until it was at its inseminating finish. Karen would allow those hardened snakes to drub her helpless cunt no matter how many tears fell from her humiliated eyes, because she just wanted to be fucked… fucked deep inside her inviolate little pussy…

“Then… t-that’s why you’re doing this? Talking to me? So I’ll b-be your… MATE!” Karen gasped.

She moaned in fatalistic anguish, praying the voice would speak to her again and give her some way out of being a cock-holster any longer. It shamed her how good it felt.

You ARE my mate. But what you have to accept is this: you’re not above this. You’re not being controlled or influenced or manipulated. This is who you are. The beast is simply taking advantage of what a whore you are.

Squirming, Karen looked out at the field of roiling tentacles that seemed lined up to fuck her, hoping at least one of them would take pity on her—but all she sensed from them was appreciation of the voluptuous feast that was theirs for the taking, undisguised rapaciousness in their excited writhing. Their tingling, throbbing bodies ran over her smooth, cringing flesh, working her up to a point beyond foreplay. A constant state of sexual need where she’d be willing to do anything to sate her need.

It was even better with the voice speaking to her the way he was. The more he denigrated her, called her a whore and a slut and a cum addict, the hotter she burned. Karen admitted it to herself—she only felt that way, felt any of this, because she was a bitch in heat. All that kept her from being a slut was that she’d never found a man capable of making her a slut. And now she was hearing him in her mind.

Maybe it was a trick of her imagination, but at least it offered her an alternative to being some goddamn monster’s sexual plaything.

I’m quite real, Karen. After all, you’re not insane. No more than Atlee and Linda. They’ve made the reasonable, rational decision that getting fucked like this for days on end is worth them dying and their planet being destroyed. But if that happens, Karen, then you’ll never be mine. And you want to be mine, don’t you?

Karen looked over at Linda just as she started to come. Tentacles were wrapped around her breasts, the tips sucking on her nipples, a third pumping itself in and out of her joined hands. Her hips bucked like a bronco on a fourth tentacle; she would’ve been screaming if it weren’t for the fifth in her mouth. And Karen knew exactly what that felt like.

You’re a cock-slut, but a cock-slut who’s smart enough only to want the biggest, best cock she can get. And once you’ve had it, you’ll want it over and over again. Because I’m going to break you, Karen. This animal might be able to give you what you want over and over again, but that’s a dumb pet trick. It doesn’t know how to take control of you. It just knows that if it ruts your holes for long enough, you’ll come, and then it can rut you some more.

Abruptly the tentacle that was getting the handjob wrenched itself over, pointing its end at Karen as Linda continued to masturbate it. Then it came, spilling what was inside it all over Karen’s face and breasts. Linda moaned as it ejaculated and Karen moaned too, staring at the tentacle in Linda’s mouth and watching as her freed hands spread more of the ejaculate over her naked flesh.

Are you really the kind of slut that you’ll just take what you can get from some interstellar parasite when I can make you come like your soul’s leaving your body?

Covered in a fresh layer of slime, an indescribable shock shot deep through Karen’s nerves, touching her body like a thousand sharp needles, dancing lasciviously along the softness of her inner thighs. Her ass ground down into the carpet that more slithering tendrils provided under her, trying to quench the hungry flames that licked at her bare sex and rising clitoris.

The motion of the caressing tentacles rippled through her quivering belly and crossed the berry-like nipples of her enormous breasts, drowning out the note of debasement she’d felt, leaving only the heavy rise and fall of her ivory breasts as her breathing labored to get enough air to her pleasure-clouded brain.

“No! No!” Karen cried. “I don’t want you! I want my master! I want the man that’ll ruin my cunt, not just fuck it! I wanna be owned!”

It was insane—ridiculous. Her only way out of submitting to the swarm of tentacles offering her pleasure was to instead fixate on a man. Not even some romantic, touchy-feely, power of love man; the prospect of him… spanking her. Calling her a whore. Facefucking her. Putting his finger in her ass. All the things she’d always hated when guys pulled on her.

But not because you don’t like it. Not because you aren’t a whore. Because they can’t do it right. Can’t do it like I can. Stop letting yourself get fucked. Come get owned.

Karen lay there, purposefully blanking her mind out. She was aware of her own labored breathing, of the rubbing-stroking-squeezing motions all across her body that tried to arouse her, of the way the tentacles grew like creeping vines all up and down her sweetly curved body.

But she felt nothing. She made herself feel nothing. Even when one slipped inside her cunt, she only allowed herself to be conscious of the friction it gave her. There was nothing more to it for her than there would be if she were being injected by a needle.

Karen would not allow herself to feel anything as she was fucked because she knew those passions belonged to the voice. He was offering her so much more. Then one of the tentacles flicked between her buttocks. The sudden awakening of her sensitive anus frightened her. She didn’t want to be stimulated there. She didn’t want to start wanting all over again.

Relax, Karen. The hard part’s over. I want you to focus on the ship now. It’s not a very well-built ship—basically just a missile designed to survive reentry. Reentry is all heat. Space is motionless, but it isn’t cold. Remember, there’s no conduction without atmosphere—the only way to lose heat is by radiation.

“Just have to… just have to put in enough heat shielding,” Karen muttered, struggling to think. It was actually good that the voice was some sort of dom—she couldn’t have followed along with his explanation if he were just telling it to her, but by forcing her to strain and figure it out herself, he was keeping up the push against the orgasmic pressure threatening to overwhelm her senses. “Then it stays warm forever…”

Yes. So it’s built to withstand heat, not cold. You can’t burn it, Karen. What can you do?

“Fuh-freeze it. Fucking FREEZE IT!”

As soon as she thought, she acted. Karen pursed her lips and willed her Polar Breath out of her mouth, gales of pure cold frosting the air she expelled into whiteness that covered the ship and the hydra’s head trunk that spilled out of it with icicles and bristly ice crystals.

The swarm no longer sought to ensnare her, seduce her. Two tentacles wound around her unresisting thighs pulled them wide; more shoved between their lush fullness.

Desirous fires pushed through the pink, wet sphincter of Karen’s asshole as she felt it spreading, being readied for penetration. She dizzily thought of herself as one big hole that was about to be filled.

C’mon, Karen, be a good little whore for me. Don’t you want me to fuck you?

She blew more, coating the ship and trunk in another layer of ice. Whiter, thicker ice. Then she felt a gust of wind against her splayed anus and unconsciously looked back, saw the thick tendril that quivered between her wide-stretched thighs.

Karen took a deep breath to expel at the ship again, but before she could even turn away, the tentacle guided itself into Karen’s throbbing asshole. The weight of the entry dashed Karen to the floor. She let out a deep moan as the pulsing snake pushed itself into her hungrily clasping passage as far as it could go. Her buttocks clenched together, tension born of the churning deep inside her as the tentacle bored hotly into the soft willingness of her depths.

Karen could only think of how she wanted it deeper, wanted it burrowing all the way into her hot, trembling hole. She moaned and opened her legs as wide as she could, giving the tentacle all the space it could need: “Fuck me harder! Fuck my ass!”

As if to make up for going easy on her before, another tentacle rammed itself tonguingly into her mouth. Karen sucked hungrily at it, her body caught in a maelstrom of raw need as one tendril pumped mercilessly into her asshole and another smacked resoundingly into her throat and another throbbed inside her pussy. She felt her orgasm building, bringing her already vacant mind closer and closer to true oblivion.

But the tentacles had put too much effort into silencing her. They’d taken their attention off of Linda and, coming to her senses, Supergirl quickly grasped the situation. She picked up where Karen had left off, hitting the vessel with a steady stream of freeze-breath that iced it solid.

Even as she did, Karen bucked uncontrollably, feeling the plunging tentacle between her asscheeks stiffen and spurt its white-hot contents far into her bowels. Karen moaned in aggravation; it had come too soon, denying her an enormous summit. She strained against the rapidly shrinking tentacle, crying out with anguish as the one in her mouth broke off its rutting too, leaving her bereft.

The fire kept burning in Karen’s thighs as they rubbed together, impatient for the next tentacle to replace the ones that had left her, unable to grasp that there were no more coming. Frozen at the source, nothing animated them but a few stray nerve impulses.

“OH RAO!” Karen sobbed hysterically. “DON’T STOP! SOMEBODY FUCK ME! ANYBODY! JUST FUCK ME!”

If she could have summoned up her heatvision, she would’ve freed the beast then and there, let its tentacles back inside her. But she had no more control than she had restraint. Soon, she was as incapable of language as she was of thought and she simply curled up on the ground, sobbing at her denial.

The gross unfairness that even when her lover came to her from beyond the stars, she still ended up unsatisfied.

There, there, the voice said, his taunting mien finally replaced with one more sympathetic. Like an owner trying to console his pet. At least you can admit it now. You’re a whore. You were made to be a whore, you’re meant to be a whore. All you have to do now is wait for me. And I’ll make this little make-out session of yours into nothing more than the funny story of how we met.