Pouring one out for the lady at the museum the other day who described two butterflies mating in terms more suited for a BDSM smut fic than two insects mating. Under a cut because 1) it’s shit, and 2) it is meant to be at least slightly filthy.
The Domination of the Monarch
Desiree was a delicate creature. She fluttered about under the warm autumn sun, her brilliant wings catching the light and attracting the attention of all who saw her, their striking orange and black a warning and an invitation all at once. Life as a butterfly was good, full of nectar during the day and plenty of cuddling at night with her 500 closest friends as they settled in close together to keep out the chill. But there was one thing lacking in her life: a man.
More specifically, his semen. It was, after all, mating season, and Desiree had no intention of letting it pass without collecting at least some love-batter from a strong, virile male monarch butterfly. She tried not to let it bother her that all of her other friends were finding love under the Pacific coast sun. Her time would come, they assured her. No use hurrying love. Still, though. Desiree sighed lightly. They had no room to talk—most of them had already collected the necessary fluids from the male of their choice, and those who hadn’t done so at least had prospects.
For a second, Desiree alighted on a garden fence. The milkweed on the other side only frustrated her further—her eggs should be in that! So she fluttered onwards. It really was a beautiful day, though, and her irritation soon disappeared as she drifted amongst the flowers and grasses of the various gardens.
Suddenly she spotted him. He was dark, handsome, powerful. His antenna carried a hint of bad-boy menace to them, but his eyes spoke of a kinder soul. Desiree was instantly entranced. He was so brooding, so very masculine and virile. Her antenna quivered. She fluttered in a slow circle to see if he might have noticed her. But no, that was too much to hope for.
Flitting downwards, Desiree settled on a stalk of lavender and adjusted her wings to their best advantage. Pay him no mind, Desiree, she told herself as she pretended to examine the flowers in complete concentration.
The sun above her was blotted out for a second, and then he landed beside her. Her heart throbbed.
“Hey.” His voice was everything she imagined, dark and husky.
“Hello,” she replied, trying not to squeak. He was just so perfect. She decided to chance a further remark. “It’s a beautiful day today.” He was silent for a moment. Had she said too much? Been too inane?
“Yes. Perfect mating season.” Oooh, he was direct. “What’s your name?”
“Desiree,” Desiree squeaked. Everything was quivering now, not just her antennae. His voice stroked her inside and out.
“I am Iago,” he responded, his voice as thick as chocolate syrup oozing over her. “Shall we get down to business?” Desiree was practically panting now. She had pictured something a little more…candles and long walks on the beach, but this was just too exciting.
With a few flutters of her luminescent orange and black wings, she was airborne, spiraling upwards. Iago was after her in a minute, but Desiree was faster, looping and dodging with a skill born of evading birds looking for a snack. As she shot off and looped over a tree limb, she performed a discrete check over her shoulder to see if her smoky companion was still on her tail. He was, and catching up with her. A thrill shot through her entire being and she sped up. Just a little, though, not too much.
And then it happened. As she was swooping into a low left dive, Iago took a shortcut and grabbed her. They continued to the ground in a graceful spiral, a mass of twelve entwined legs and desperate kisses. Desiree couldn’t get enough. Heat flamed in her belly as she felt Iago pressed against her, his member hard against her, forcing her downwards. Yes. God, yes. As they reached the ground, Iago growled. The sound sent a thrill through her.
“Desiree, I want you now.” The breath hitched in her throat. Here? Now, on the sidewalk? But what if they were crushed? But oh, how it felt as he pinned her to the ground.
“Not here,” she barely managed to gasp. Iago growled again, a low, animal sound. Effortlessly, he lifted her from the ground and ferried her high into the branches of a nearby tree. It happened so fast that Desiree’s head was spinning. He was so strong, so manly, she just couldn’t resist.
In a second, he had her on her back, her appendages dangling limply to the sides. Maybe it was the desire gleaming forth from his eyes, maybe it was the rock-hard, throbbing butterfly cock pressed against her waiting underbelly, but Desiree was smitten. This was what she craved, to be taken like this, to be so utterly dominated by a strong male of her species.
“Now,” he growled, and Desiree could only moan, “Take me, please,” in reply. Then she could feel him pushing into her moist, hot crevice. God, he was huge. There was no way he would fit inside her completely, but he did. And then he started to move, slowly at first, and then faster. Desiree moaned and writhed beneath him, her body matching his rhythm instinctually.
His stamina was impressive. The warm afternoon faded to evening, and still he pounded away at her, slowly filling her with his semen. Desiree came again and again, screaming her satisfaction to the heavens. At last Iago came a final time, moaning in chorus with Desiree, and pulled out of her slowly, leaving her limply fluttering on the branch, so filled with his seed that she could barely move.
“Oh, Iago,” she gasped, barely audible.
“Desiree,” was his only reply. They lay on the branch for a time, but the temperature was dropping quickly as the sun sank below the horizon, and so they parted ways. Desiree flew slowly, partially due to the cold and partially due to exhaustion. As she settled into her familiar nook with her friends, though, she breathed a sigh of satisfaction. At last she was sated, and full of strong, virile butterfly semen that she would use when the time was right to lay a clutch of eggs. As sleep overtook her, her last thought was of Iago. Perhaps she would see him again. After all, such a manly creature would make a fine, strong father for her eventual children.
