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“Tell me what you’re going to do to me, Gallien. Tell me how you’re going to punish me,” I say, my voice low and filled with heat as I caress my clit in tight circles, slowly, savoring the sensation. Their sweat is thick in my nostrils, the stink of distilled testosterone and pure masculinity, and I know when I leave this room, every Aurelian’s keen sense of smell will taste the triad on me, marking me as their property.

The sight of their muscled, bound perfection in front of me is intoxication, hundreds of pounds of muscled flesh, bodies that could pin me down and brutally take me, trapped by my mind, trapped by my control over my darkest, basest desires.

Slowly, I loosen the vines around Gallien’s hand. Unlike the other two, he reaches down towards his cock, but forms his hand into a fist, not touching himself. “The next time I release, it will be inside of you, Adriana,” he states. His words are rough, growly, but more precise than Doman’s. He is able to control himself, by sheer will alone. Doman and Titus are fully lost in the Mating Rage, pumping their huge shafts, their hips thrusting forward and back as they imagine being deep inside of me.

“I’m not just going to spank you, Adriana.” Gallien’s voice is pure sin, dripping with promise. “I’m going to bind you in this room and fill you with so much pleasure you beg me to stop.But I won’t. Not until you’re a shivering, broken mess. Not until the only thing you crave is to be my little pet.” His legs flex as his body urges him forward, his cock pointing straight at me, his being intent on the soaking slit between my legs. He can’t take his eyes off my pussy.

My fingers quicken, faster, his words driving me wild. I know I’m torturing him. I know he’s enjoying every second of the torment, and the more intense it is, the more brutal his punishment will be when he finally gets those huge hands on me.

“I’d like to see you try,” I whisper to him, when movement from Doman grabs my attention. He and Titus are stroking their cocks madly, panting as they stare at my slit, and they roar, throwing their heads back, their sweat-soaked manes of hair and beastly, powerful bodies making them look like conquerors despite being bound, and they cum at the same time. Their enormous cocks spurt cum in waves that splash over my body, over my tits, into my open mouth, coating my pussy as I can’t control myself, my fingers circling faster and faster, until my own orgasm rushes over me.

It's intense, lightning sensation, but it only makes me crave them more. I feel so empty. So unfulfilled, torturing myself when all I need to do is let those vines disappear and they will take me, one after another.

Titus and Doman groan with their release, but Gallien stands, too proud to use his hand, his forearm flexed to the limit as he overcomes the painful need and resists.

I let the room push me to my feet, the seat I created angling upwards so I can walk towards him. I wrap black vines around his right hand, so he cannot move an inch, a defiant, bound battle-god with eyes burning with pride and desire.

“You said the next time you would cum was inside of me,” I say, looking up at him, gently taking his heavy balls in my hand, cupping them, feeling their weight. I look up at his taut, chiseledperfection and open my mouth, sliding it over his cockhead as he groans with pleasure.

Deeper and deeper I slide his warm, hard dick into my throat as it spurts, coating my mouth with the seed designed to let the enormous brutes conquer tiny little human holes, and to my shock and lust, negates my gag reflex entirely. I can feel his cock throbbing in my throat, and I can’t breathe, but I don’t care. I want to please him, I want to torment him, I want to make him lose control. He thrusts forward, his hips pumping forward and back as he slides his dick deeper and deeper down my throat. His cock stiffens impossibly hard, and with a roar, it releases, shooting his thick, creamy load directly into my stomach.

I pull back, the last thick spurt of cum over my lips and dripping down my neck, and look up at him, in this strange mixture of submission and triumph as he groans in pure satisfaction.

Shakily, I step back, looking at the three men. Titus’ head is limp forward, his black hair obscuring his face, completely spent. Doman has his head back in pure satisfaction, a strange smile on his face.

But Gallien alone stares with this dark promise of ownership, watching me like a hawk. I gently run my fingers over his abs, and lean in, planting a kiss on his sweaty chest.

I pick up Gallien’s robe. “May I?” I ask him, and he gives me a nod. I wipe their seed and my sweat off me, but in the mirrors I can see I’m a mess. I’m sweaty, my cheeks are flush with obvious arousal, and I must stink of the beasts, their musk and their potent seed. The diamonds at my neck glitter, the obscene contrast between their riches and my state.

I use the room to form vines to grab my dress, bringing it to me and pulling it over my body.

“When I leave, you’ll be free?”

“We’ll be free,” says Doman, watching me with that strange smile of his. His cock is already starting to throb once more, thickening between his legs.

I raise my eyebrows. “You can go again, so soon?”

“Until I sate myself inside of you, Adriana, these releases are… emptiness. Unsatisfying. Just as you feel.”

He’s right. I feel so empty. Usually after masturbating, I get a wave of relaxation. Now, the tension has only grown, and I know, deep down, that until the three of them have taken me, fully, I’ll never have relief.

The thought doesn’t scare me like I thought it would. It fills me with anticipation, the knowledge that this experience, which was more intense than I had ever had before, is only the beginning.

I pick up their three rings. They are unnaturally cold, and they have an uncanny look to them, like the Orb-Armor that they wear into battle, as if they resist being looked at. I form the vines into tiny, thin tendrils that bring them through the air and pull them onto their fingers.

In an instant, they change, the tension leaving their bodies, their muscles relaxing.

I press my hand against the door, and it opens, letting me walk straight out. As the door closes behind me, I know the Aurelians are released, but somehow, I know they won’t come after me. That we all four felt it—the moment is over, the tension simmering once more between us after it nearly boiled over.

I look down the hallway, and there are more doors leading out. I need a shower, and I’m not going to walk through the hallways of the Aurelian ship covered in their sticky seed and musk. I’ve been through a whirlwind of the Aurelian storm.

I back through the door to the dining room, and to my surprise, the door opens automatically. The Aurelians must have put my signature into their warship.

To my shock, one of the young triads of squires are cleaning up the dinner table. If they were humans, they would be nineteen at most, and they stand up at attention when I enter the room.

I was expecting them to look at me with scorn, with knowing expressions that I’ve just been taken as a toy of their commanders.

They nod their heads in respect. They can smell the musk of the princes on me, the thick, alien seed must be potent in their nostrils, but they look at me with the same deferential respect they had when they were filling my glass of wine.