II
Bruce landed in a heap inside of a dusty place that smelled of death. He sucked air desperately trying to fill his lungs and attempted to right himself through a dizziness of a kind differing from any he had felt before and blind panic clouding his mind and judgment. All he could make out were a tiny basement window revealing only the black night outside and the lone lantern illuminating the room. He felt himself grabbed by his shoulders. Sharp claws dug once more into his flesh, and he was felt a slight, barely noticeable weight atop him as if an insect had perched upon a fold of his collar. Despite this, he felt pinned to the ground. The moment his eyes focused, he saw the hellspawn leering down at him from above. What could one do in this situation? If you had asked Bruce a three years ago before this stupid “war” started, he would not have the faintest idea outside of the kind of thought experiments only philosophers bothered with. So, the moment he saw the demon atop him, he decked it in the face. What,was it going to damn him further? Torture him more?
To his surprise, the demon went sprawling across the room as if flung by a great force, but was it worth it? While it had felt like she weighed nothing, Bruce had felt the bones break in his hand on impact. He had even punched in one of the softer parts of the skull between the mandible and zygomatic bones, and already he had busted his hand up from opposite force from the hardness of the creature’s skull. Still, it had gone flying. Did the demon have a glass jaw? Bruce doubted it. Who was that lucky?
Initially, Seven had not even planned on roughing Bruce up too much. Oddly, in the back of her mind, she had always hoped for a man to just have her without the need for coercion, but such an ideal man built up in her mind, an ideal akin to those crafted by many other of the Legionnaires and others creatures of the Master’s design, would never exist. The sucker punch, however, caught her off guard. Her unnatural light weight let the force carry her far despite it not really hurting, While disappointed that she would not immediately be able to use him nor he take initiative and bend her over like many lofty fantasies, this she could work with. She grinned excitedly at Bruce. Her feline lip curled back to reveal crocodilian teeth. She was always up for a fight especially with the odds so heavily in her favor.
Seven rolled onto all fours with and faced Bruce. Her back arched like a cat trying to make itself look big in a dominance posture. Her mane rose with her hackles spreading her coarse hairs into an array of dangerous-looking quills. Behind her, her tail rose like a sting also flaring its quills. In the time it took her to look terrifying, Bruce had pointed a twelve-gauge shotgun at her and was about to open fire.
Bruce thankfully had not dropped nor relinquished the weapon after his sudden kidnapping and employed it at the nearest opportunity. Just before he could pull the trigger, he felt a powerful yank on the end of his barrel, sending his shot perilously off-course. It seemed that the spread had missed her entirely. Less than a moment later before Bruce could recover the grip on his firearm, a second powerful yank successfully wrenched the weapon from his hands. Without pause, he turned tail knowing full well that he stood no chance unarmed. His foot caught midair, sending him sprawling, and he landed flat on his face. His glasses slid and skittered across the floor out of his reach.
Seven giggled to herself. It was a joyous, tinkling sound laced with delightful sadism. This was so one-sided that it could not be termed a fight. She spidered over to her quarry and Bruce screamed when a supremely heavy weight on pressed upon his back, bearing down on him like a boulder had rolled onto him and stayed there, balancing its impossibly huge bulk upon him. His scream died in a wheeze. His ribs creaked. Bruce could not draw breath. He could not think. Desperately, he writhed for freedom, but so leaden he felt and so burdensome the beast on his back, he could not more than futilely rock himself. Seven clamped onto his neck, teeth just barely above piercing his skin and spilling his life into the floor of his dusty tomb.
YIELD. Screamed a voice in his head. It was not logical. The beast would kill him. The demon born of his demise would take his flesh and his soul. Bruce knew he had not been a good Christian. Still, the voice screamed into his mind once more. SURRENDER. He went limp. The teeth released his neck with nary a mark. “Good boy,” Seven’s husky voice purred into Bruce’s ear. A long, flexible tongue of stupendous length slid out of her mouth and trailed slowly a lick from the base of Bruce’s shoulder and up above his jugular. It wrapped around and teased where his carotid pumped precious blood up through his neck before quickly retracting into its owner’s mouth. Bruce could only shiver under the oppressive weight pinning him.
The weight lifted, and air rushed into his lungs in long, gasping, gulping breaths. Now, Bruce could barely feel the monster on his back, but he could feel its presence. He was forcibly rolled over and onto his back, and he was then staring the monster in the eyes. Seven’s two hands wrapped around his face with her palms resting in his cheeks and her curved claws resting on his scalp and crown with a feather-light touch. The curved claws of her thumbs arced within his peripheral vision, and their points prodded him just under her brow on either side of his skull. Once more, her lips pulled back revealing her crocodilian grin.
“Now that you’re nice… and relaxed,” she said softly spilling hot breath into his face, “Do you know what would have happened if my-” She paused as if finding the right word and continued, “-friends had found you?” Her purring, feminine voice belied her savage appearance and seemed to resonate in Bruce’s skull. The incongruousness pierced Bruce with unreality and sent a shiver down his spine.
Bruce, had a pretty good idea. It was all over the news. The demon seemed to note some change in his expression and continued her spiel without an actual response. “Why, that’s right! You would be facing a rather nasty fate,” Seven said, giggling before she could even finish her statement, “but I didn’t tell them about you and whisked you away. Your home is now being given to the Commandant of the Legion of Terror to reside in while we conduct our business from there.” That severely limited Bruce’s options. He did not even know where he was right now, and he had a feeling in his gut that he had somehow traveled a long, long ways. How defied reason, but the impossible had a much different meaning nowadays.
“So,” Seven continued, resting her forehead against Bruce’s, “you understand your situation.” Bruce did, but before he could understand, Seven continued with a lilt, “You understand just how oh so sickeningly, sweetly nice I’ve been.” Bruce’s mind stumbled across that one. He safe from one threat but tossed into the path of another one and still did not know what Seven intended. That was when she pressed her lips to his.
Bruce froze, unsure of what to make of this. Seven pulled back and looked at him. She tried again, but Bruce was still a cold fish. Pulling back, upset, Seven growled at him. That unbearable pressure returned, and Bruce once more felt as if he were buried a hundred feet under the Earth’s surface. “I do not need your cooperation,” Seven bit out. Her voice was harsh, and Bruce felt as if something was clawing at the inside walls of his skull and raking grooves in it. As odd as it was, Bruce intuitively noted a hint of hurt within her tone, buried though it was under outrage and dominance over him. Really, he did not want her taking out her frustration or outrage on him considering the damage she could wreak
Now, while Bruce’s first impression had been a demon sent from hell to collect him, the prior knowledge of the mad scientist vomiting supersoldiers all over the northern border and setting God only knows what else loose into the environment allowed him to reason that this merely looked like a demon albeit one with comic book superpowers. Squashing old superstitions from his Christian upbringing, Bruce painfully lifted his head against the force pressing him down and initiated the kiss this time. The pressure lifted immediately.
Seven pulled back a bit herself, surprised. This lasted only a moment, and soon she was back to doing what she had originally intended. Her claws gently pricked the skin of Bruce’s face where they ever so slightly clenched, and a long tongue snaked into Bruce’s mouth and moved about to explore every nook and cranny. Bruce reciprocated to the best of his ability, but the shape of Seven’s face and mouth made it impossible for him to draw on any of his experience. He felt more like a bystander in this. Her tongue that probably could wrap around his arm and in Seven’s enthusiasm explored wildly and without any real direction or guidance. Some of the places it brushed stimulating while others were just plain uncomfortable. Somehow, he got the feeling that Seven did not know what she was doing either, not that that bothered him. Oddly, that was reassuring.
From a position that felt like it was wrapped around his tonsils, Seven’s tongue retracted, whipping out like a retractable extension cord. The sensation caused Bruce to gag a bit, but otherwise he was fine and merely hoping that the rest of what the creature forced on him would keep him in one piece. Seven planted another kiss on his cheek and his forehead, and moved over him- actually Bruce was not certain she was even atop him with how impossibly light she felt, She rose up above him, and he saw her slender body pass over him from the neck down. Her frame was definitely feminine, but she lacked some key characteristics men found attractive like breasts. She was not skinny, but her muscle while defined did not have much more development besides being toned. Her abs glided in front of his face, and the next thing Bruce knew, he was eye-level with her muff. The sleek, jet black fur that coated her body was much coarser in her pubic area and tickled his nose. Wordlessly, Seven used two of her claw tips to gently, clearly very gently, part the lips of her sex. Somehow, the only thing Bruce could think was how she could possibly masturbate with hands like those.
It was obvious what she wanted though, and her anatomy down her was familiar enough that Bruce knew what to do even if he was not the biggest fan of doing it. He was used to being a wealthy man and being the one catered to. Power did that to you. However, Bruce was not so stupid as to not know what his position was. He flicked his tongue along first her inner thigh as was habit. He got the taste of hair in his mouth but was not dissuaded. He meandered around his target for a bit before actually diving in. Attempting to be honest with himself, Bruce felt rusty at this, but a casual observer might not notice that with the way Seven was writhing above him and grinding her crotch to his face. It was not long before she grabbed onto his head with her hands and thighs as if attempting to force him to meld with her. Bruce fought through the pain of her meathook-tipped fingers digging into the tender flesh of his scalp and managed to get his own grip on her, placing his hands on her flared hips. He persisted. Soon, a blood curdling shriek belted out, dissonant and skin-crawlingly unnerving; it sounded nothing like any the feminine voice Seven had. It activated the primordial fears lurking at the back of Bruce’s mind and clawed at his soul. The shriek cracked into a husky groan from Seven, and once more she sounded as she had earlier.
She hunched over Bruce, insensate while he made a discrete attempt to extract his face from her groin. He did not seem able to. Despite seeming to weigh nothing to Bruce, Seven had an iron grip on him. She was frankly stronger than he was by an order of magnitude. It was unlikely that he could ever overpower her in a fair fight, and he would still not feel comfortable in an unfair fight with how easily he had been disarmed. He had not even seen what had pulled his weapon from his hands.
Finally, Bruce was released, and Seven swung her leg over. She slid down and sidled up to Bruce’s side, cuddling him with what one might mistake for affection. Bruce shuddered when she licked his neck and began tracing one of her vicious-looking claws down his chest. “You,” she said, “are a keeper.” God, Bruce hoped so. He liked being alive and in one piece.
The buttons on his shirt started popping off seemingly of their own accord. He did not see anything touching them, yet like magic they came undone as did his belt and pants. All the while, Seven nuzzled into the crook of his neck and was doing some things that sent pleasant tinglings through his own body. It became apparent just how he had been so easily disarmed and subdued. His undershirt pulled up, and Seven abandoned Bruce’s neck, gave him a peck on the lips and brought her face down to his chest. Bruce’s line of sight mostly showed him Seven’s rack of horns and the top of her head bristling with her mane of quills. Once in awhile, her tail would whip behind her.
He shivered when her tongue went across his pec. Then, Bruce jolted when he felt her go after his nipple. That was something that he had honestly never encountered, and he was unsure of what to make of it. Maybe it was because the supersoldiers were all women? Seven giggled at him, apparently taking his reaction as positive and made a short turn down his belly and to his crotch. Her hot breath rolled over his privates, and he felt a surge of nervousness about those teeth of hers down there. His worries were blown from his mind when her tongue slid out of her mouth and looped around his manhood. The sticky saliva eased the sliding of the wet muscle over it; then it retracted suddenly. Seven cocked her head once at some private thought before returning to her task. The tongue came out once more and utterly mummified his shaft. Bruce made a strangled noise akin to a world yodeling champion being punched in the bollocks mid-solo. If he had more brain power to allocate towards thinking at the moment, he would have been rather embarrassed over some of the sounds that got pulled from his mouth.
Seven stopped suddenly, whipping her tongue off in its retracting motion. Almost the entire length exposed slid along his cock at one point or another on its nigh instantaneous journey back into Seven’s maw, and the speed overstimulated Bruce, causing him to choke on his spit. He hardly had time to recover when Seven was up and on top of him again and already lining herself up with him. Bruce was concerned he might be a premature after that her treatment but felt that it was probably in his best interest to not be a schmuck now of all times. Placing his hands on her hips, Bruce pulled Seven down on him, easing himself inside
Seven wriggled and rolled her hips, easing herself down. Her entrance swallowed Bruce’s glans and slowly slid down the rest of the way. She hissed, and Bruce felt something… odd. Through just how uncomfortably tight the passage was, he felt something that felt vaguely familiar but not something from recent memory. Looking down to where they were joined, Bruce’s eyes widened. Blood stained the base of his shaft and was beginning to cling to and clump together his pubic hair. Huh, well what do you know? There was something titillating about being the one to deflower this monster. To Bruce, Seven was not especially attractive physically speaking. This was natural since human beings did not evolve to be attracted to, well, that. Oh, but the idea of this whole situation was dangerously inflating Bruce’s ego.
Bruce shifted his back as best he could on the hard cement floor of the basement and got enough footing to push back against Seven. She was so light that her whole body lifted up with his rising pelvis, causing Seven to let out a delightful, chirping squeak. Well, that was going to complicate matters. “My dear?” Bruce inquired hesitantly. His old habit of addressing women that way had gotten him called a chauvinist a few times by his opposition, but it had slipped out. This was a rather intimate setting, so hopefully the she-beast would not be upset by this. “Is there a bed here?” he asked. Quite honestly, this cement floor was already murdering his back, and he knew he’d be in pain in the morning if he failed to sleep on something more comfortable.
Seven’s eyes had been closed to slits, slits of reflective orange-gold shining through her black body. At his question, her eyes opened up further and focused on him. She looked ponderous for a time, but that thinking did not stop her from grinding against Bruce with him still buried inside of her. “Yes,” she said.
Bruce felt that same yanking sensation that had brought him here. For an instant, he felt himself moving through space via dimensions that his brain could not comprehend, and then he wound up in a bedroom on a bed with Seven still straddling him. The experience was still rather jarring, and Bruce was feeling quite dizzy. Seven set her knees down on the mattress and made a happy noise. “Good idea,” she said. From impossibly light to a suddenly a weight that made sense to Bruce’s intuitive understanding of the world, Bruce could suddenly feel Seven atop him. He sunk farther into the creaky mattress, driven under the increase in weight. She draped herself forward and rested her chin on Bruce’s collar. A giggle escaped her, and Bruce once again saw those pearly-white, conical teeth made for tearing pounds of flesh from unsuspecting animals. Seven wrapped arms around his trunk and moved her hips experimentally. Her tail flicked, swished, and whipped behind her.
Bruce gave her a surprise peck on the lips causing Seven to squeak. It was hopeless to surprise the smile that gave him, such an unthreatening noise coming from such a terrible creature, but he thankfully managed to avoid cracking up. He pecked her again; she squeaked again, a bit more softly and slowly ground her hips. This was nice. They stayed like that for a time that did not really register in either of their minds. Bruce grabbed a handful of her flank and heard her squeak again, and her inner walls clenched tightly around him. The two went back and forth, caressing and groping one another until Bruce felt himself run just a bit over his ability to hold back his climax. Seven closed her eyes and nuzzled him. The two lied still. Even though Bruce was fairly certain she had not gotten off that time, he dozed off comfortably with Seven on top of him.