"I'm not going to fuck you," he says. "I'm enjoying your desperation far too much for that."

"Please," she whimpers, "oh fuck please just fuck me, I want you so badly, I want to feel your cock in me, I want you to fill my hungry cunt, please..." Struggling just makes it hurt worse. She struggles anyway. She struggles because it hurts, and because it makes her feel deliciously, wonderfully helpless, utterly in his power.

"Mm... well. Perhaps I'll be generous."

A thick steel tendril, as wide as two fingers, slides up between her buttocks.

"Do you want this, my treasure?"

"Yes," she sobs, "please, yes, fuck me, rape me, wreck me, hurt me, I want you to use me any way you want, every way you want, please my lord—"

The steel tendril shoves itself into her ass and fucks her roughly, growing thicker with every thrust.

She moans and squirms and sobs, tears running down her face, gasping for breath. "Please, yes, please, hurts so much, feels so good, ohhh..."

"Hurts? Not yet it doesn't," says the Emperor.

The tendril slows down, settles into a more defined shape, a cock with a head the size of her fist, pumping in and out of her.

And then it grows short sharp spikes, spiraling around its cold hard shaft.

Niamira screams.

The Emperor laughs. The spiked steel cock ravages her ass with merciless force.

Her screams trail off into whimpers, then quiet sobs, then soft ragged breathing. Blood pours out of her, hot and wet and red, dripping from the chair to puddle on the floor.

It's glorious.

"And do you still want my cock inside you?"

"Yes," she says hoarsely.

"Then come here," he says. The illusory steel dissipates, leaving her empty and unsupported.

She collapses to the floor, directly into the puddle of her own blood. There is a hole through the middle of her left hand, made by one of those thinner tendrils, and she can see right through it to the floor beneath. Fragments of pale bone glint from the interior.

She looks up at him, and whimpers, and crawls toward his wooden throne. Hot blood runs down her thighs, and trickles from the assorted holes left by blunt tendrils of steel.

"You're so beautiful," he says, stroking his cock as he watches her.

When she reaches the throne, she climbs up painfully into his lap. His cock is right there, hard and ready, and she wants it in her cunt so badly - but she knows what he wants her to do. She turns and snuggles back against his chest and lowers her ruined bleeding ass down onto his cock.

"Mine," he breathes in her ear, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing tightly. "All mine. And you know it."

"Yes," she moans. "Please, my lord..."

He finally starts fucking her.

"So good," he murmurs, "you're so good, pretty little thing, you know you're mine, you'd do anything for me, wouldn't you..."

"Yes, yes, yours, yes," she whimpers. "All yours, my lord, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Please, use me, fuck me, take me, hurt me, rape me..."

He nuzzles her hair and fucks her harder. "My treasure. My torture-loving slut. My Niamira."

"Yours, yours, yours," she gasps. "Oh please—"

He holds her tight enough and fucks her hard enough that bones start to crack under his hands. She's perfect, glorious, blood-slick and whimpering, the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

When he comes, he holds her in his arms for a long moment, and then presses a gentle kiss into her hair and heals her.

She shudders. His cock slips out of her as she turns and nestles close and pillows her head on his chest, and she misses it intensely.

"Oh, my lord," she murmurs, "I love the things you do to me."

He pets her hair. "I noticed."