#gn!human!reader

The tentacled imprisonment of the Battleship Condescension holds you firmly in place, preventing you from fleeing or otherwise squirming away from the Empress. “ya betta take this like a good slave” she taunts. You feel her tentabulge squirm against your ass, writhing around to find your entrance. “or there’s gonna be an even worse ending”

Without any other warning, she slams her tentabulge into your unwilling hole, making you scream out with pain. It searches through your inside, finding your most pleasurable spot to cause your arousal and shame. “P-please, no! I promise I’ll do anything else!”

“too late for that, beach” She thrusts harder, hitting that bundle of nerves that makes you moan in lust. 

You feel the heat rise through your body as she pounds you, humiliation overwhelming. God, why am I into this? Any coherent thoughts of denial are pushed out as you lose your sense of self, subservient to The Condesce’s power and prowess. Her tentabulge thrusts into you over and over, causing you to cry out louder each time. Before you can even register it, you’re approaching your climax. The Condesce snaps her fingers, and an Imperial Drone approaches and places a bucket underneath your hole, surely to catch any leftover genetic material when she reaches her own orgasm.

Liked this and want more? Check the full Kinktober fic on my AO3 here!

“ya betta get a move on” You hear the call when you turn the corner, struggling to carry the oversized pink and gold makeup case. “dont MAKE me come ova there with a leash this time” Various brushes and lipsticks mark your trail like early-aughts breadcrumbs, and you move as fast as your legs can carry you.

You scramble onto the stool next to The Condesce, heaving the makeup box onto the vanity. “I-I’m sorry, my Empress. It won’t happen-” you inhale sharply as you get it into place. “Again.”

“damn right” The Condesce’s manicured fingers peruse the box, humming a tune to herself as you sweat bullets. Finally, she takes a handful of various eyeshadows, contour sticks, and eyeliners, and dumps them in front of you. “there” she smirks at you “now make me buoytiful”

You stare at the pile with fearful eyes. You’ve never been one to use cosmetics yourself, but to do it on skin that was so unlike human complexions? Not to mention, if you failed to make The Empress just the way she liked, it would mean your head on a 2x3dent before you could say “eyelashes.” People say to do your eyes first, yeah? Let’s try… this. You gingerly pick up a palette of fuchsia shades and a brush, preparing for the worst.

Liked this and want more? Check the full Kinktober fic on my AO3 here!