A literotic sexstories: Worthy Prey by XtinaSmith ,
“What was?” One of her two Seconds, Tryi, queried, moving up to stand beside her First, Gatt-Rifle slung over one bare shoulder and her battle-armour already discarded to reveal the almost eight foot tall hulking beauty of her red-skinned body, all muscle, strength and power, the vision of primal dominance only enhanced by the sleeping giant of a cock resting plaintively between her sculpted thighs, though she still didn’t hold a candle to the yet taller and stronger, Lysera.
“This!” Lysera spat, casting her hand out in a vague gesture over the tight valley where she and her Lessers had made their ambush, “Two hours we lay in wait for our prey and what do we get for our patience?”
“A battle that will be recorded in the annals, Lysera.” The Second grinned, whipping her single braid of long black hair back behind her shoulder, standing tall and proud, shamelessly displaying herself and glad to be free of the discomfort and weight of her armour.
In response Lysera winced like she had been slapped across the face, raising a finger to scratch at a protruding lower fang.
“Pah! You call this a battle Tryi? Over in seconds! No skill, no challenge, no thrill. A waste of my time.” Lysera chastised, not bothering to keep her rage in check, even as other Lessers glanced her way, uncertainty.
Tryi seemed to lose a few inches of height, the pride draining out of her as she realised the truth in Lysera’s words, “I understand the lesson. Though at least we got prisoners, is there not a victory worth mentioning in there?”
Lysera snorted but relaxed her aggressive posture some, there was no sense in directing her rage at a valued warrior like Tryi, “You speak the truth there, Lesser. How many did we get?”
“Nine.” Tryi nodded and Lysera grinned hungrily, hopeful.
“Their condition?”
“Six are men,” Tryi started and Lysera nodded along, they would be sent to homeworld, Toutati for distribution and labour, valuable to her for their prestige only, “One of the women was severely injured and the White One is tending to her.” Lysera nodded again, the White One was the only one of those among her compatriots that was not of Warrior-Caste, and not a Lesser, “The other two women are awaiting your attention.”
Lysera’s grin broadened and she turned her head, glancing down to take in their bare figure of Tryi, admiring the warrior’s prominent muscles, buxom chest and impressive length, “Do you plan on sating yourself, Tryi?”
Tryi smirked and shrugged a shoulder, “It has been too long since we took some of their women kind prisoner. I will spend time with them after you have had your say and I have spoken to our wounded.”
Lysera’s expression faltered and her back stiffened, an edge creeping into her voice, “We have wounded?”
Tryi turned her gaze onto Lysera and a cold chill visibly ran down her spine as she noticed her Betters new expression, “You… Were not made aware?”
Lysera felt the ball of rage within her once again demand her attention. She clenched her fists and scowled with such a ferocity that Tryi took a cautious step backwards.
“No,” Lysera snarled, “I was not made aware that we had weakness in our ranks. Where are they?”
Tryi’s expression of uncertainty hardened in an instant to one of wounded pride and anger, the smaller warrior stepping forward, squaring up to Lysera as best she could, “I trained them both myself! Their strength and bravery have been proven on the battlefield times before and I will not have you so gravely insult my Lessers!”
Lysera drew in a sharp breath and narrowed her eyes. While she could understand Tryi’s fury at the harsh insult of implied weakness, for the Second to square up to her in the open like this, in full view of both of their Lessers was a challenge to her authority, and one she could not tolerate.
Without hesitation and faster than the eye could follow she drove her fist into the chiseled abdomen of her Second, the speed and power of the strike such that Tryi was lifted briefly into the air before she came crashing back down to land on her back, the air driven from her as she folded her hands protectively over her abs, growling in pain and anger, red dust rising around her in a haze as she curled up onto her side, the muscles doubtless cramping as the echo from the force of the strike bounced around the cliff walls of where they stood.
Lysera turned her eyes away from the stricken Tryi and looked around instead at the other Lessers who had witnessed the exchange, challenging each of them in silent turn to meet her steely azure gaze. None did. Her authority and dominance had been swiftly reassured among them. In their eyes now this Second was yet too young and too inexperienced to challenge her and, more importantly, they saw that Lysera had not yet begun to succumb to the detriments of age or wounds accumulated. All was as it should be.
She reached out her hand to the Lesser and nodded her head, “Take me to them.”
Tryi scowled for a moment but realised quickly what her Better was doing, allowing her to save face among the Thirds and Fourths of her peers. After what had transpired, such a brutal put down would only encourage Tryi’s own Lessers to attempt and move up through the ranks through her and she would have to tread carefully for a few weeks.
Lysera grunted as she pulled Tryi to her feet, admiring the Isiri’s ability to control her own anger and frustration, able to understand what had occurred and not to fly into a fit of rage from which Lysera would almost certainly have to put her down for good.
“You are a strong Second,” Lysera reassured and Tryi nodded her head once, appreciative of the praise, though she remained bitter about how it had come to her.
Lowering her hands from her stomach and straightening her back, uncaring for the dust that stained her red skin, she showed no weakness or sign of the pain that Lysera knew would be dominating her senses, as if she hadn’t just received a blow that would doubtless have proven fatal if levied against one of the delicate humans. Lysera was further impressed.
“Thank you, Better.” Tryi responded shortly, forcing herself to be respectful, “This way.”
Lysera walked in silence and with purpose alongside her Second, going through several mental exercises to collect and order her thoughts, forcing the ever-present ball of rage that fueled her strength to succumb to her training and not cloud her judgement any more than it already had. She knew it would only be to the detriment of her own honour if she was to throw further fire and vitriol at her own wounded warriors, especially when she had no proof that they had not fought to the best of their talents, as Tryi had suggested.
With her thoughts ordered and the silence between them stretching as they walked, Lysera mentally dissected the confrontation with Tryi. She had in both anger and error insulted her and, despite Tryi being the younger and less experienced of the two Seconds under Lysera’s command, Tryi had conformed to honour and challenged her Better despite the obvious difference in their abilities.
With the benefit of clear thoughts and retrospect Lysera understood that her mistake had put Tryi in a perilous position among her own Lessers, who might see it as an opportunity to rise themselves, an error Lysera felt duty bound to correct or at least recompense, if possible.
Lysera was led to a sheltered crevice naturally worn into the rocky earth of the red planet on which they stood. While one wasn’t raging now, the planet had shown its willingness to throw unpredictable and biting sandstorms at the invaders and Lysera had learned to respect that, camping in sheltered spots even when all seemed quiet and the weather clear.
While the anger inside her writhed, demanding she turn her attention first to the two captured human women, each of them stripped of their armour, clothing and pride to be left naked and vulnerable, hanging against the rocky face of the cliff with bound wrists locked and outstretched above their heads as they stood captive and waiting. But she would have time enough for that soon.
She stepped passed them, not so much as sparing them a glance for fear that the look of their small supple bodies, helpless and awaiting her, would interrupt her focus on the wounded.
As she approached she took in the sight, carefully assessing what she saw. Two of her Lessers, Fourths she knew, sat with their backs to the wall, one looking bored with a bullet wound in her thigh, so far unchecked and oozing a steady stream of crimson blood, the other with a deep cut across one cheek, a stormy expression on her face even as it too let crimson spill down across her neck and torso. Lysera felt a pang of regret for that Lesser in particular, though she didn’t show it. A prominent scar given by a weak enemy would be a lesson she would have to carry with her for life, a constant reminder of her failing in both her own eyes and in those of her peers. It could make life tough among the Isiri.
She also saw a human woman, laid out on her back, most of her armour cut away to reveal a nasty wound on her right arm. Even with her limited knowledge of the craft Lysera could see enough of the woman’s blood to deduct a major, perhaps even life-threatening injury had been sustained. The human woman was conscious but pale and clearly exhausted, her fair hair dirty and lank with sweat.
“White One,” Lysera spoke, inclining her head respectfully only to be met with a raised finger, a chastisement to be quiet as she worked.
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