THE LUSTS OF THE SPIDER QUEEN

“Oh Alta! Alta! Alta!” Claudette T.S Grant gasped, her knees somewhere near the approximate location of her ears. Her toes curled, while she lifted her head up, her forehead nearly bumping against the chin of Alta Polaris, the Pirate Queen of Ceres as she thrust deep within her desperately needy Earthwoman pussy. The firm red balls of the pirate queen clapped against Claudette’s rump, sending reverberations through her that were made all the more intense by the rocking of Claudette’s hips as she fucked back into the woman who was making such vigorous love to her.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

Alta trembled. Her whole body tensed, her cybernetic arm whirring as she planted her palm against the curved metal of her quarters’ wall, bracing herself as her balls clenched and she spilled once more the warm heat of her Devilman woman’s cum deep within Jasmine’s long suffering maid. Though, perhaps, suffering was not the best term, as the touch of the first droplet of her cum caused Claudette to scream out in pleasure, her hands gripping her own ankles above her head as she arched her back and allowed herself to be fucked more firmly into the bed. Her body clenched tightly around the cock filling her, accepting the cum deep within her increasingly adapted womb...

Alta panted slowly, softly, her one biological eye closed to a slit. “Ohh...” She groaned, quietly. “Gods that was ... good...”

“You brute...” Claudette mumbled, her eyes closing as she panted softly. “Ah ... ah ... mmm ... Christ above, what I wouldn’t give for a Winston right now.” She turned her head to the side, mumbling into her pillow. “Nothing like a drag on America’s favorite, and most healthy cigarette ... after being raped by a vicious space pirate!” She opened one eye, glaring up at Astra, who gaped down at her – before seeing Claudette’s impish little grin.

“Oh! You!” She grabbed onto Claudette and leaned forward, kissing her fiercely and eagerly, then rolling about. Soon, Claudette was sitting upon her lap, the two women enjoying the spin gravity ... of Eros Station! Yes, Eros Station – famous, even in the dark times of Zardo’s malignant empire, as being the best and finest place in the whole solar system for anyone to visit. Having been spun up in much the same way as Ceres, Eros had not been hollowed out so efficiently, nor turned into such a bountiful jungle. Instead, it was more akin to a vast warren of internal corridors and connecting chambers ... and all of those chambers were dedicated to separating the hard bitten astro and thrill seeking nobleman from their hard earned space dollars. There were microgravity chambers near the center of the asteroid where one could engage in sex acts impossible in anywhere but space. There were sauna rooms, scented with hallucinogenic mists and fogs from the farthest reaches of the SOL system, where a single act of lovemaking would feel as if it lasted a thousand years and touched eternity. There were broad concourses, lined with hotels and comfortable taverns, all of them run by the ever helpful and optimistically minded Plantwoman Kingdom.

There was not a species in the solar system more perfectly suited to run Eros than the Plantwomen. An all female species of budding plant, they were able to emit pollen and spores that could be tailored to their customers to provoke any feeling desired ... for the right amount of space dollars.

One such Plantwoman stepped to the door of the chamber, smiling within beatifically – she was tall, almost three meters in total, with glowing bioluminscent hair, bright green skin, and dressed in a bark-like material that just barely covered her bountiful, leaf green breasts and hips. “Are you two having a pleasant time?” she asked.

“O-Oh, ah ... yes...” Caludette said, as she drew her mouth from Alta’s. She had not become accustomed to the forward and cheerful nature of the Plantwoman and, thus, covered her breasts with her arms.

“We’d like a drink!” Astra said, her hand gripping Claudette’s ass – bringing forth a startled squeak from the well fucked maid.

“Of course, do you wish dewshimmer or nectar?” the Plantwoman concierge asked, her smile showing her greenish teeth.

“Nectar, of course!” Alta said, before leaning in close to nuzzle against Claudette’s neck. “You haven’t lived until you’ve drunk a Plantwoman’s nectar, Goldilocks.”

“That’s Captain Goldilocks to you, you red rascal,” Claudette huffed, softly. The thing that had brought them and the rest of the crew of the Salty Sirius to Eros had been the same reason why, despite kidnapping and drugging and being forced into a slinky sling bikini, Claudette found her heart opening to Alta Polaris. But two weeks before, they had been in a deadly, no holds barred space battle against an Imperial siloship – armed with enough atomic weaponry to transform the Sirius into an expanding cloud of rapidly heated vapor. Thanks to Claudette’s quick thinking and quicker orders, the battle had come out in favor of the pirates – and rather than merely capturing a robot rocket transport full of easily sold loot, they had instead salvaged the wrecks of not one but two Imperial war rockets – that of the aforementioned siloship and the Q-rocket that had been masquerading as a robot transport.

The resulting riches in weaponry and atomic material – ever a precious resource in the solar system had been sold at a high price, and now...

And now ... they did as all pirates did, be they in space, the sea, or the skies, after a great haul of ill gotten booty.

They hit port.

And they celebrated.

Claudette was about to huff more at Alta, but she was distracted by the sight of the smiling Plantwoman stepping forward with a goblet of gold, empty. Her brow furrowed. “Where’s the-” she started, but the Plantwoman casually tugged down the front of her dress, revealing the hard tip of her dark green nipple. She squeezed her own tit, with the confidence and ease of a woman milking a cow – though not many cows were as voluptuous and shapely as the concierge! And no cow had ever moaned so wantonly and lustfully as she was milked – and no cow had spurted a thick line of bright, glowing silver nectar into such a pretty goblet! The Plantwoman squeezed again, then sighed as she held the goblet to Claudette, who took it with a trembling hand.

“T-Tarnation ... I never had milk this fresh since I was back on the farm...” Claudette whispered.

The Plantwoman concierge moaned as she squeezed her other tit into another goblet for Alta, who took it with one hand and smacked her green rump with her palm. “My thanks, my green goddess,” she said, causing Claudette to huff and puff up her chest.

“Your eye wanders so easily?” she asked.

“It doesn’t count with Plantwomen,” Alta said, defensively.

“It’s true,” the Plantwoman said, smiling. “We Plantwomen do not feel lust as you do. While we can imagine and indulge in perverse and wild flights of fancy, the actual act of physical intercourse is...” She paused. “Not ... unpleasant for us, but we lack the ingrained mammalian passion for it. It must have something to do with the fact that we bud off one another rather than breed like you mammals do.” She inclined her head. “Is there anything more you wish of me?”

“Away, oh goddess,” Alta said, grinning at her. “We shall enjoy the fruits of your body.”

“Don’t hurry back...” Claudette muttered to her cup as the Plantwoman swept from the room – the door closing behind her.

“Are you jealous?” Alta murmured.

“ ... a little...” Claudette muttered into her cup. She sipped, then tasted the invigorating, pleasing taste of the nectar passing through her lips, coating her tongue. Her skin buzzed and her nipples hardened almost immediately to full eager tautness. She drew in a sharp gasp, while Alta grinned at her, showing off her fangs.

“You need to learn to get past this Earthling view of the universe, Goldilocks,” Alta said, sipping from her nectar.

“Funny, it was my Earthling way of viewing the universe that saved our ship,” Claudette muttered under her breath. Alta flushed and then leaned back in her bed, regarding her throwing a narrowed eye.

“In space, we don’t get jealous,” she said.

“Oh, don’t you?” Claudette asked, arching an eyebrow. She took a deeper quaff of the nectar and shuddered as the almost too rich flavor flooded her mouth. Her eyes closed and she mewled softly, a needy sound that spoke to hands and knees upon a bed and rump into the air to her. Her head spun and she shook her head a bit, then set the goblet down on the nightstand beside the red carpeted bed that they had rented for the time alone upon Eros. She leaned forward, then looked into Alta’s eyes. “Then you wouldn’t mind if ... if I went and found that large wolfman of your crew, Alpharus?” She grinned. “And ... let him...” She blushed. “ ... make love to me?”

And there, flickering in the depths of Alta’s bright red eye, Claudette saw a glint of jealous possessiveness. “Well ... that’s different!” Alta said, quietly.

“Oh, how?” Claudette asked, her hands going to cup Alta’s cheeks, forcing her to keep looking at her – the Pirate Queen seemed to wish to look away. Alta muttered under her breath, her tail flicking up to smack against Claudette’s rump – causing her to squeak softly. “No getting away from the question, how is it different from me finding Alpharus and letting him knot me?” She purred, softly.

“It was kissing just a second ago,” Alta muttered into her own chest as she turned her head down, not meeting Claudette’s eyes. “And ... because you’re mine, by the Mount of Mars!”

“Yours!?” Claudette asked. “I’m my own woman!”

“Oh, are you?” Alta’s eye gleamed and Claudette squeaked as she found herself swept around and pined onto her back on the bed. Her thighs snapped open, automatically. She flushed and squirmed as Alta pinned her hands above her head. “I’m a Pirate Queen – and as I remember it right, Goldilocks, I plucked you out of space with my own two hands...” Her metal hand felt shockingly warm against Claudette’s wrist, pinning her with such effortless ease that ... even had Claudette not been soaked by the nectar she had drunk before, she would be slipping up her own thighs were her arousal. “That makes you my salvage.”

“I’m no part of a darn rocket you ca- mmmmph!” Claudette moaned as Alta kissed her, then drew back. She gasped. “-you can ... bandy about like ... ah!” She cried out as Alta kissed and sucked on her neck, fierce and hard. “Ah ... you brute!”

Alta grinned. “You love it.”

“No, I most ... certainty ... do ... not!” Claudette said, punctuating each word with a little wriggle, and each wriggling having less strength behind it – each movement translating to her grinding her needy little Earthling cunt against Alta’s throbbing erection. She bucked her hips up, then threw her head back as Alta took her – hard. The other woman thrust into her, and her balls clapped against her ass, slapping home again and again as Alta growled, softly.

“I do wonder ... will this be the time we are unlucky?” She crooned, her voice hazy and lustful, clearly not thinking straight – not thinking of ramifications or consequences. “Remember, every time I coat your Earthling womb with my Devilman cum, I make you more and more fertile for future batches of my seed!” She groaned, her hands shoving down harder, pinning Claudette more firmly – drawing from her an even more eager moan and gasp. Alta leaned forward, her voice a hungry growl. “Maybe this is the time ... I’ll breed your thick ass, Claudette!” She kissed her ear and Claudette came almost at once, driven to mewling bliss by the lewd words that filled her mind with such hazy promises.

“Alta! ... no!” She gasped out, despite her pleasure, despite her legs locking tight around the cosmic corsair’s taut, athletic red rump. “You ... must ... pull out of me! Ah! It’s too dangerous! Hnnn!” She moaned, her back arching as Alta thrust faster and faster, her mouth suckling to her neck, then kissing down to her full, bountiful breasts. Alta used her teeth, gently, to tug upon Claudette, and wrung from Claudette another screaming orgasm – her short cut fingernails digging into Alta’s muscular shoulders. “Altaaaaa!” She wailed.

Alta moaned ... and thrust deep, deep inside of the Earth woman ... and came. Her seed painted the needy, primed womb of Claudette, joining the earlier load of transluscent girlcum that had already filled Claudette earlier today – soaking into her and spilling from her in equal measures, dripping down the cleft of her ass as Claudette whimpered and squirmed and writhed beneath Alta. Alta drew forth, gasped once more, then rolled onto her side beside Claudette. She lay there, stroking the blond woman’s hair as Claudette’s full breasts heaved, the bite marks of Alta’s eagerness a dull pink against her shockingly pale skin.

“It’s ... surely safe this time...” Alta murmured, stroking Claudette’s belly. “Even if you’d look quite good, swelling with my bastard.”

“Y-You’re the bastard!” Claudette gasped out. “Brute...” She turned, then slid an arm around Alta. Drawing her close. “Mmm, you ... foul fiend, you ... mmm ... my love...” She mumbled, softly, while she slipped away into the delirious pleasure of her exhausted sleep.

When Claudette’s eyes opened, Alta slept sill. She sat up, looking down upon her – and felt a smile ghosting upon her lips. She had never imagined that this would be her life, as a ... a kind of a co-captain aboard a pirate rocket ship. She felt her heart rending almost in half, thinking of how the last time she had seen Jasmine was almost ... no, it was more than half a year before. Even if she had slept through a majority of those lonely months, she had been awake enough for travel in the course from Ceres to the Belt to Eros – and it still felt raw and impossible that her Jasmine, her lovely perfect Jasmine, was dead – scattered into atoms and vapor by the vile Emperor Zardo.

Could she truly live like this for the rest of her life?

Could she...

Stay with Alta?

Claudette reached down, then gently tucked a lock of dark hair behind a pointed, red ear and smiled as she saw Alta settle deeper into her bed, her smile faint and pleased – the smile of a well satiated predator.

My predator, Claudette thought, warmly, feeling a thrill of pleasure at being with and claimed by such a potent and powerful woman. She remembered, with a flash, the daring and deadly way that Alta could slay Martian Death Commandos, all from ambush, all with nothing but her sword and her skill. If Alta had been awake at that moment, Claudette was sure that she would have ridden her right then and there! As it was, she felt too energized to sleep – and so, Claudette slid quietly from the bed. She tugged up the golden bikini that Alta had given her, and ... felt an odd sense of comfort and happiness wearing it. She bit her lip, then...

Then...

Without being asked.

Without being commanded.

Without awakening to have it a fait accompli ... Claudette opened the drawer of the room and took forth ... the Collar. It was a silly little thing, one that Alta had threatened with her many times, but never enfored. It was made of black leather, with a small silver nameplate with the name ALTAIR carved upon it ... but not as a mark of identification ... oh no. This collar was meant to indicate ownership. Claudette’s hands trembled and she glanced upon her sleeping Devilman woman lover. Alta remained deeply asleep – which made it infinitely easier for Claudette to slip the collar on and cinch it comfortably tight around her throat.

She stepped to the door, emerging into the nightlife of Eros, her fanciful thought firming with every step. She would find among these shops something for her Alta, as a present!

Claudette found the main thoroughfares that led throughout the interior of Eros. The lights were bright, and nearly every eye of every astro was upon her voluptuous body – and clad in a sling bikini as she was, it would almost be less lewd if she had gone about fully nude. Despite the oggling of Lizardman and Tuskmen and Squidmen and Faemen, though, Claudette walked with a confident roll to her hips, her high heeled shoes clicking loudly on the sleek metal of the floor ... for she saw the eyes, yes. But she saw, also, the leering turning quickly to chagrined fear as they saw her collar, and the name upon it.

“Oh, no, that’s Altair Polaris’ girl ... no, lads, best to not even try...” was muttered many times as she paused before stores selling trinkets and curious and tools of the trade. Claudette reached down and fingered her purse, which was hung off one of her bikini straps near her hip. Alta had given her her own share in space dollars, which were all printed on space plastic chips that represented their value. It was more than enough for most of these trinkets ... but which? Claudette stepped into one such boutique after spying what appeared to be an elegant flintlock pistol.

“Hello, ma’am?” she asked the boutique operator. “Might I inquire about the pistol you have on display?”

“Ah, it’s a dueling raylock,” the woman said, cheerfully. “Unlike an average death ray pistol, raylocks must have their firing chambers replaced with every shot – but in exchange, those shots are...” She trailed off, her brow knitting as she looked over Claudette’s head. Claudette turned – then whirled, her eyes widening as she saw a trio of robed figures entering, followed by a fourth. Claudette’s heart froze as she heard, faintly, the hiss and burble of the Death Commando’s of Mars and their back-mounted war drug dispensors! Without missing a beat, Claudette grabbed the dueling raylock from its cushion and fired!

The Death Commando she aimed at had expected no such sudden attack – and he fell, a hole burned through his chest, super-heated red mist exploding from his robes, blowing the hood back to reveal his eyes had burst and blood streamed from his lips as the raylock had vaporized his insides with the force of a small star. As he fell, the two other commandos rushed forward and Claudette flung the pistol at one of their heads. He batted it aside and she was reaching for another weapon before both of the Death Commandos had born her onto her back. Her head struck the ground – hard, and all was consumed in a white flash and a blaze of pain!

When the white pain had faded, Claudette could see the fourth robed figure was standing before the boutique girl – and the boutique girl looked dazed, as if someone had clubbed her in the side of her head. A flickering red light shone from the hooded figure’s face – flashing and strobing so rapidly that it seemed to be one unending barrage of blood red color. Then the light faded and the boutique girl, her eyes still unfocused, nodded and said, her voice monotone. “I shall delete the records of your presence and forget this happened.”

“Very good...” a cold, feminine voice crooned from the hood. The robed woman turned and knelt beside Claudette, tossing her hood back to reveal sleek gray features, deep red eyes with black instead of white surrounding them, and slitted pupils. Her ears were swept back and batlike, furred and long and oddly shaped. When she smiled, she had fangs. “I see that Zardo was right about you, Miss Grant.”

“You’re one of Zardo’s?!” Claudette growled, writhing and struggling against the two Death Commandos that held her down. “Who are you?”

“So insolent. Do not fear. We shall correct that.” The woman’s eyes began to strobe gently – red light coming from them, faster and faster. The light flared-

SUBMIT.

Claudette tried to tear her eyes away, but ... she could not. Her fingers went limp and laid open against the ground as she could no longer clench her fists. Those eyes strobed faster and faster.

SUBMIT. SUBMIT. SUBMIT. SUBMIT.

Claudette found her ability to cling to her own thoughts growing just as limp as her grip. Her eyes were going unfocused and her mouth started to loll open as her brain squirmed and writhed. The thought, more akin to her own than anything else, came: It would be so very easy to listen...

The eyes flashed faster now. So fast they seemed to swirl, creating interlacing black and red circles, twirling endlessly. Claudette was falling down those swirling tunnels ... and it felt good. Her nipples were hard. Her sex tingled. Her whole body sung for the molding grasp of the voice, booming within her thoughts, pressing out everything but-

SUBMIT. SUBMIT. SUBMIT. SUBMIT. SUBMIT. SUBMIT.

“Yes...” Claudette whispered, dazedly. “Submission is life ... submission is life ... I am your doll ... I am yours...”

“Very good,” the woman crooned, softly. “Now...” As she spoke, the doll was lifted by strong arms – it felt oh so good to be manhandled, and moved, posed like a doll. Because that was all that she was. A simple little empty headed doll, imprinted with nothing but love and happiness for her mistress. The doll found herself seated at a table, with a paper and parchment set out before it. “Now, you will write a letter to Altair Polaris – telling her how you needed to go to Mars. You will write to say that you never truly loved her, but only remained with her for lack of better options. You will sign it with the name Claudette T.S Grant.”

The doll ... hesitated. Her hand balked. She trembled. For ... some reason, despite submission being life ... she did not wish to write the letter. She did ... she did not! Confusion filled the empty little doll’s head, confusion at this sudden balkiness. She was a good doll. Why wasn’t she doing as her owner wished her?

Her mistress caught her chin, lifting her head. Her eyes began to swirl again and there was only that singular presence of her mistress, filling her. There was no room for anything but smiling up at her. Empty headed little doll, nothing but smiles for her mistress. “Teehee...” The doll giggled, while her mistress crooned.

“There there,” she said. “All done.”

“Done what, Mistress?” the doll asked, cheerfully, barely noticing the Death Commando to her left rolling up the letter.

“Nothing,” the Vampire Queen of Mars crooned as she stood, tugging her mind broken captive to her feet. “Nothing at all.”

And with Claudette bundled under a robe, she left Eros behind – leaving only that note beside the sleeping Altair Polaris’ bed.

Jasmine Starr stood at the balcony of the Palace of the Spider Queen and reflected on the past two weeks of her time here. Her lips curled up slightly in a satisfied smile ... and knew that soon, she would need leave this place and blast off once more into space. All of her planning now depended upon the next two hours – and a singular hope that a radio transmission had been received and understood...

Her mind cast back, to two weeks before...

She had just completed her trials and discovered the shocking truth of Prince Fireth. So, while at the time, she had wanted quite badly to simply take Queen Evilla into her arms and make vicious love to her – in part because the Queen was beautiful and in part because Prince Fireth had annoyed her so very much ... Jasmine had instead restrained herself...

“Come on,” the ‘Prince’ said as he strode through the corridors of the Spider Queen’s palace, Jasmine following short after ‘him.’ The quotation marks about his pronouns would remain for Jasmine until she determined if Fireth truly wished to be a male, or if she was merely masquerading the part of a princely potentate for as of yet unknown motives. Fortunately, Fireth had been given the order to make sure Jasmine was rendered comfortable during her stay with the Faemen beneath their thick rocky dome.

They came to one of the guest chambers, which Fireth opened for her, gesturing insdie at the large bed, the glowing mushrooms that provided illumination, and the gorgeous statuary of nude, reclining faewomen. “This is your chambers, I take it is to your- EEP!” He squeaked as he was tugged within by Jasmine.

“Talk,” she said as the door shut behind him. “Now!”

Fireth hissed at her. “Why? So you can blab my entire story to the whole of the Kingdom?” He crossed her arms over his chest.

“I am quite skilled at keeping secrets, Fireth,” Jasmine said. “Why won’t you believe me when I say I am merely here to help you – to end the war between the Hawkmen and the Faemen, to free the solar system from Zardo?”

“Free them? From Zardo? One might as well free us from the sun itself!” Fireth turned his back to her. Then, sighing. “ ... but as you could reveal me ... very well.” He shook his head. “My ... true name ... is Princess Snow.” She turned back to face Jasmine, her hands tugging at her top – and in a subtle way, her chest filled out, the masculine clothes that she wore now doing very little to disguise her femininity.

“So, your ‘sister’ didn’t kill herself at all?” Jasmine asked.

“No,” Snow said, looking aside. “That is a legend – to cover that ... my ... brother ... my true brother...” She bit her lip. “Was a traitor.”

“What?” Jasmine’s eyes widened and she took a step closer.

“He was sending secret communication beam transmissions to the Emperor – keeping him abreast of our kingdom’s every secret, our every plan, our every goal. While I do not want to doom us all by fighting Zardo, that is one thing. This was another entire. I confronted him and he said that Zardo had promised him more than the kingdom if he took the throne. He said that Zardo had promised him a harem of Hawkwomen and Faewomen, even so far as to ... offer me and my mother to his incest maddened mind! He was utterly depraved, and when I confronted him, he advanced upon me.”

“Good God!” Jasmine exclaimed.

“I ... defended myself. And when it was done, my foul brother was dead. But my mother believed him to be the shining star of the family – how could she face the world, knowing that the perfect boy she had always loved was, in truth, a monster and a schemer? So ... I hid the body and took his place. I excused my absence by writing to my mother, claiming I had ... run away with a Hawkman. To keep the scandal quiet, she claimed instead that I had taken my own life.” She shook her head. “I didn’t expect that – but ... well...”

“Good heavens,” Jasmine said, her voice even more horrified. “What a horrible web.”

“Fit for the Spider Goddess, eh?” Snow asked, chuckling quietly. “My mother weathered the scandal, and remains Queen. But now Zardo knows our many secrets – and thus, fighting him becomes even more of an impossibility. Even if your plan didn’t involve aligning ourselves with the Hawkmen!” She huffed. “Bestial, strong ... handsome Hawkemn...” She shook her head. “T-The idea of one of them being near me, let alone inside of me?” She shuddered melodramatically. “Some even ... claim that they have knots, like beasts. Dreadful rumors...”

“They do,” Jasmine said, smirking ever so slightly.

“W-What?” Snow’s eyes widened.

“Thick, heavy knots,” Jasmine said, nodding. “That tie you to them as they ravage you, so that their cum has no choice but to flood your womb.”

“How ... d-dreadful...” Snow whispered, biting her lip, her nipples hard against her top.

Jasmine stepped to Snow’s side, then took her hand. “Listen,” she said, softly. “This war, you must see it serves no one but Zardo. He plays you off one another, and in that confusion and chaos, he is able to enact great evil. Soon, he will be able to control the whole system – no matter what.” She shook her head. “We cannot allow that to happen.” She smiled, then leaned in close, her voice soft. “You know it’s true. Don’t you?”

“Yes, but...” Snow sighed, shaking her head. “What ... how can we possibly end this war? Both Kingdoms have good reason to hate one another.”

“The terraforming project, yes,” Jasmine said, rapping her knuckles against her chin in thought. She stepped from Snow, her slender body looking quite delightful in her red bikni top and bottoms. “ ... say ... is there any evidence that might date back to that time? Records? Documents?”