Fic: Harem | Superman Movieverse | Ursa/Everyone | NC-17 | 1/1
Title: Harem
Fandom: Superman Movieverse
Characters/Pairings: (in order of appearance over 14 parts) Jimmy Olsen/Ursa, Lana Lang/Ursa, Perry White/Ursa, Richard White/Ursa, Non/Ursa/Zod, Non/Ursa, Lex Luthor/Ursa, Lex Luthor/Ursa/Zod, Eve Tessmacher/Ursa, Eve Tessmacher/Kitty Kowalski/Lana Lang/Lois Lane/Ursa, Richard White/Ursa (again), Lois Lane/Ursa, Clark Kent/Lois Lane/Ursa, Ursa & Jason White
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,372
Prompt: For PB XIII: slave, collar, kneel, superior, death, For dcu_freeforall: Collar/Leash; For the Superman Movieverse Pairings Challenge: Crystalline, Slave/Enslave, Loyalty, Pilot, Mistake
Summary: Ursa has everything she could ever want or need.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own everything, the schmucks.
Author's Notes: Totally AU, obviously, and an amalgam of STM, SII, and SR. I even made a lot of shit up here to fill in the gaps. Heh. This got way too long to post at the PB, so here it is, posted quick like since I'm almost out of time.
WARNINGS: This is a seriously triggery piece. I'm not even joking. I feel like a seriously bad feminist for the way this went. Warnings for dub-con, rape, torture, murder (major character death), and abortion. If any of those things trigger you, please move on. Sorry.
Harem
I. Puppy
Visually inspecting the boy, her first visit of the morning, Ursa, hummed to herself in satisfaction. The boy was a spitfire, energetic and angry, always so quick to fight her-exactly what she needed to start her day.
“Leave me alone,” the boy-no more than a puppy, to be honest-spat at her as she lowered the shield that held him in his crystalline enclosure and stepped inside. His curly hair was unruly this morning, his eyes wild and bloodshot from lack of sleep. “I don’t want anything to do with you. When Superman comes back, he’ll make you pay for this.”
As usual, his morning erection was fully present, despite his ire.
A soft laugh, and Ursa unclasped her robe. “Kneel, my pet,” she ordered him, “or I will kill you where you lie.” A brief flare of her heat vision to illustrate her point, and to her glee, the puppy knelt, despite himself.
“You can’t make me-” the boy tried to protest.
But he gulped as she grabbed his hair, fingers tightening in those unruly curls. “You will give me what I want.”
With a swift move, she pushed him back until he landed with his palms on the floor, his knees bent beneath him, and she lowered herself onto him, a sigh escaping her as his length filled her, opening her, stretching her.
After that, there was no more protest from her puppy.
II. Secondary Attendant
Allowing herself a long, contented purr, Ursa writhed beneath the ministrations of her Secondary Attendant, the woman known as Lana. Long fingers teased her breasts, ghosting over her nipples, while red hair spilled over her thighs, a very talented tongue worshiping Ursa’s core. Heat bloomed in her belly as that tongue darted in and out, promising bliss, and her body began to tighten as shocks of pleasure lit up every cell in her body.
“More,” she commanded, rolling her hips to meet that tongue as it worked.
A hum of acknowledgment met her in return, the vibrations tingling her center, and she gasped as her Attendant sped up, her tongue moving faster and one hand sliding down over her belly. Those long fingers disappeared, and Ursa loosed a cry as they entered her, spearing her deeply and curling over that hidden magical place within her. A supernova of pleasure cascaded through her as the redhead worked her to completion, and Ursa’s breath caught in her chest as white light flooded her vision, her release as strong as it had ever been with any male.
Many long moments later, Ursa tugged her Attendant up by the hair-so red, so luxurious-and settled her down on the shimmering bedsheets beside her, taking in her pale curves with heavily-lidded eyes. The woman was beautiful, certainly, and worthy of having her attentions returned.
Caressing the crystalline collar of obedience-her own creation, of course-that circled the Attendant’s neck, Ursa grinned, and bent down to bite a nipple, laughing to herself when the woman’s scream of pleasure filled the air.
III. Old Man
The old man was hardly worth her trouble. Too obstinate, too worn down, too odorous-the stench of those foul-smelling things he’d smoked still seemed to linger on his skin, even after all this time-and certainly too useless to her as a potential mate.
Still, he seemed to have a way about him that amused Ursa.
“Tell me,” she ordered him as she stood before his enclosure. “What would you do if I let you out of this cage?”
The old man glared at her, gritting his teeth and crossing his arms over his chest. “First thing I’d do,” he bit out, his voice a harsh growl, “would be to get my hands around your neck and wring the life out of you, your royal goddamn highness. Then I’d let the whole world know what you’ve been doing up here. There isn’t a military on the planet that wouldn’t have your perky ass in chains.”
Ursa laughed. “I like you. You think large. Of course, you overestimate both yourself and your planet. What makes you think that there is a military left anywhere on this world?”
The way his face blanched to near-white made Ursa laugh that much harder.
IV. Flyboy
The self-described pilot was one of Ursa’s favorites. Good for nearly any time of day and suitable for nearly all of her moods. He made her laugh, calmed her ire when she needed an outlet, made her scream with bliss when she needed to come so badly she could taste it, even lifted her spirits when she became overwhelmed with melancholy over having no equal of any kind on this world.
It seemed odd, that he was so different from the old man, when their blood relation should have given them nearly identical personalities. But no matter, his spirited personality was valued enough that he was the only male-besides Non, and he didn’t count-in her harem that she allowed out of his enclosure, a glittering collar of obedience circling his neck.
Curled into his side after a long mating session-she could hardly comprehend why these humans called it ‘lovemaking’, when the act had nothing to do with the emotion-Ursa sighed with mild contentment, sated and tired, her thoughts wandering. If only this one would obey when the collar was not in place, perhaps she would make him her First Male.
Even if he could only fly by the use of a machine. At least she would have someone in the air beside her.
V. Fool
The beard on Zod’s face had grown long since the last time Ursa had visited him. How odd that it suited him; wild and unkempt. But the fire in his eyes told her that he was no more broken now that he had been when she’d placed the collar around his neck and led him to the red sun chamber. No real embers glowed in those dark pools, only hatred.
“You will kneel before your General, Ursa,” he spat at her when she lowered the forcefield and entered his enclosure. “You defy me, and it will not be tolerated.”
Ursa only grinned-leered-at the pathetic excuse for a man that she had once followed so willingly into battle. That his arms were held in shackles certainly ruined the show of supremacy he tried to put on.
“You are a fool,” she said sweetly, grasping his chin with her long fingers. A tug, and she ripped a handful of hair from his beard, drawing a startled cry from his chapped lips. Yes, that was exactly what she wanted.
Of course, the process would be messy, and her ‘General’ would need to be cleaned up after she’d had her fun.
Her eyes on her pet, she called over her shoulder for Non to attend her.
VI. Silent Servant
Though there were times when Ursa valued a male who could converse intelligently with her, this was not one of them. The silence that Non offered was a blessing, especially now that her ears still rang with Zod’s screams. Indeed, Non’s presence after her session with their former leader was a soothing balm to her nerves, his service to her a priceless gift. Unlike most of the other males she kept, Non was gentle, kind to her, assisting her even without a collar of obedience. He had no ego to speak of, no desire for freedom-why would he, when Ursa gave him everything he could ever need?-and his spark of violent cruelty had burned out long ago, leaving him with only a quiet eagerness to please.
Which he was doing now, to a great degree. Ursa’s eyes slid shut as he attended her in the bath, his large hand working the cleanser into her skin in careful circles, washing away Zod’s blood and filth.
Allowing herself a small smile, Ursa reached up to twine her fingers into his short hair and gently scratch his scalp, and his low hum of appreciation was a mirror to her own.
VII. Holo-Crystal Salesman
Ursa should have killed this one long ago. His smooth talk and desperate attempts at manipulation were tiresome, reminding her of a holo-crystal salesman-and they had been the dregs of Kryptonian society, not worth the air they once breathed.
Listening to his pathetic begging for mercy, however, pleased her in a way that the others certainly didn’t. With her hand tightening around his throat, her fingernails drawing beads of crimson from his sweat-slicked skin, he promised such outlandish things that all Ursa could do was laugh, her ribs actually aching from the cackles that she had no hope of stopping. What reason could she possibly have for desiring him as a mate, when the others more than sufficed? And the world was already hers, every male on the planet Earth hers to do with as she pleased, to take or to kill as she desired. This one would certainly not make a decent ruler for any primitive nation-state, either; his anatomy proved inadequate and incorrect.
“I’ll make you a queen, your excellency,” he croaked, his air supply dwindling as she tightened her grip. “Let me rule by your side, and you’ll have the world, everything, anything you want.”
Ursa nearly wheezed with laughter. “Foolish man. I am already a queen.”
But there was one thing he could give her, she realized, watching his face begin to turn purple. A flame of idea flickering into existence in her mind, she released Luthor’s throat and dragged him out of his enclosure by the wrist, smiling when he cried out as his forearm broke in her grip.
VIII. Emperor
“You have terrible taste, my dear.”
Zod’s voice grated on Ursa’s nerves, his arrogance still firmly in place even after she’d ripped every hair from his face, leaving him to bleed and scab and scar. But that was of no consequence. Today, she would finally show him the error of his ways.
Shoving Luthor into the enclosure, Ursa followed. Another shove, and the slimy human fell to his hands and knees, swallowing another cry of pain as he landed on his broken forearm.
“Your worship, I thought she’d killed you by now,” he joked tightly, grinning up at Zod insolently. “You look like you went ten rounds with Superman.”
“Silence,” Ursa commanded him, gripping his hair tightly in one hand. “I really should have killed you both ages ago. But I see now that this is my repayment for misplaced sentimentality.”
“I see you have something in mind, then,” Zod said, one eyebrow arched in challenge. “Will you torture us? Force me to watch you tear the throat out of this human, in hopes that I might learn my lesson? Or will you mate with us before you kill us? Take our seed and then destroy us?”
Ursa grimaced, despite herself. “I have no need or desire for seed from either of you. No, what I have in mind is much simpler.”
With that, she released Luthor’s hair and unlocked the shackles that held Zod to the wall, letting him slump to the floor on weakened legs. A small laugh at his bark of pain and the hard glare he leveled on Luthor, and she turned to leave, raising the shield after.
“Well, your generalness, looks like we’re stuck here together,” the human said after she’d gone. “You help me escape, and I’ll set you up as Emperor. You’ll have everything you-”
The echo of a croak and a snap followed her down the corridor, and Ursa grinned to herself. Several weeks with a dead body in his enclosure should change Zod’s attitude.
IX. Sister
“Is he really dead?”
The blonde’s eyes were large and hopeful as she presented Ursa with a clean robe.
“Yes, my sweet. At Zod’s hands. You have nothing further to fear from him,” Ursa said gently, slipping the shimmering material over her shoulders. “His neck made quite a satisfying snap as it broke.”
The Third Attendant smiled darkly, her posture showing her relief and glee. “Good. Thank you.”
Turning to the woman, Ursa cupped her chin with one hand, caressing smooth skin. “He was a waste of resources, and useless to us both. We will find you a suitable mate instead, my dear Sister, if you should desire one. After all, we have the entire world to seek one out for you. For all of you.”
Eve’s expression softened, her lips curling upward slightly, and Ursa dipped her head to kiss her slowly, savoring the taste of honey and sweet Earth fruits on those lips.
“Now go tell the others, and I will be with you shortly.”
“Yes, my Queen.”
X. The Five Faces of Raia
Ursa couldn’t imagine a more lovely sight. So much beauty, silken skin, hair of every shade, soft curves. Her Attendants were a wonder to behold. Even more a wonder to lie with. They were all that she needed, their companionship and service invaluable, the pleasure they gave her immeasurable.
“More, my Queen?”
The raven-haired woman called Catherine smiled up at her from the bed, her eyes bright and eager to please as she smoothed a hand over Ursa’s hip. This one was far more gentle than she had once assumed.
Settling down among her ladies again as they moved together on the shimmering sheets, Ursa hummed her approval. Four grins met her as the women turned their attentions to her pleasure, and she could not help but be reminded of the Five Faces of Raia, the Star of the Night, that the people of Krypton had so long ago forgotten. For many millennia, she had been the equal of Rao, and before that, far superior to him. Raia was Krypton. She was the dark, the twin moons, all the stars of the galaxy. She was the Mother, the Sister, the Lover, the Daughter, and the Queen. She was the Five Peoples-before two had been eradicated in Rao’s Great War-the Five Tongues, and the Five Paths. She was all that mattered, before worship of a male god had destroyed her.
But no longer would she be forgotten. Ursa and her Attendants would rule this planet, and as surely as their touch brought her to ecstasy again, Raia would be reborn.
XI. Mistake
This could not be happening.
Carefully reading the results on the diagnostics screen again, she hissed despite herself, her lips curling back over her teeth. A child. She had conceived a child.
With the human male, the pilot.
It was incomprehensible, that she had allowed this to happen. That she had been careless enough to allow his seed to impregnate her. She had taken precautions, by Raia! And now was not the time to reproduce; she had only barely just conquered the Earth!
Seething, she contemplated the repercussions of this development. A halfling child. She would be a hybrid, neither human nor Kryptonian. A freak. A monster.
She was a mistake.
No, she could not be allowed to be birthed. That privilege belonged to another. If Ursa would carry a child, it would be the daughter of Kal-El-the only male worthy of her-and she would be the rightful heir to the House of Faora, Ursa’s mother. She would be Kryptonian.
Forcing down errant thoughts of the child of Lois Lane and Kal-El, the weakling hybrid boy that Ursa intended to raise as her own, she reclined on the cool surface of the diagnostic table and spoke three simple words to the computer.
“Begin the extraction.”
XII. First Attendant
The following days should not have been difficult. Ursa had done what was required to help her womb heal after the extraction; she had rested, had taken her leave of her males, had even distanced herself from her Attendants.
Still, her center ached. Emptiness and cold seemed to penetrate every cell within her body, leaving her shivering, despite a warm bed. And her dreams kept her awake at night, long after she should have been asleep. The boy. His eyes. His Kryptonian eyes.
But a Queen should never second-guess herself. The boy was useless, destined to be a servant to her, and nothing more. A half-human child of her own making would have been just as useless.
Those thoughts circling through her head one early morning, with the yellow sun still far below the horizon, Ursa called her First Attendant to her.
“You wanted to see me, my Queen?” the woman asked as she entered Ursa’s private chambers. Her hair was messy, her eyes darkened and puffy with sleep.
At least someone could rest.
“Assist me,” Ursa snapped, resisting the urge to grind her teeth as she rose from her bed, gooseflesh rising on her skin. It was too cold.
A nod, and the woman-Lois-fetched her robe and helped Ursa into it, the fabric still not enough to warm her. “Would you like some tea?”
Frowning, Ursa shook her head. She needed something much stronger, something to help clear her head of this ridiculous sentimentality that seemed to be plaguing her. “Coffee,” she commanded.
Lois’s eyes widened fractionally, her honest surprise showing through the haze of the collar of obedience. “Cream and sugar or black?”
“I have no need to dull the flavor of the drink. Just bring it to me at once.”
Seemingly taken aback, the woman scurried away to do as she was told, returning several moments later with a mug of steaming liquid in one hand and a full carafe in the other.
Settled on the edge of the bed with a crystalline data pad in her hands-the work of the Queen never ended it seemed-Ursa took the mug and drank the coffee in one long swallow. The bitterness was a good match to her foolish feelings after all. It was only a shame that the heat of the drink could not burn her throat.
“Is my Queen all right?” Lois asked, a look of genuine concern on her face now as she stood back, waiting for instruction. “You’ve been absent for several days.”
The sharp sound of the mug shattering as it hit the far wall pierced the air in response, Ursa on her feet and cornering her Attendant with rage coursing through her. Her fingers closed around the woman’s neck, and-
And all at once, the fight seemed to drain from her. Exhaustion seemed to overwhelm her, and the only thing she could do was slump against Lois, her head dropping to the woman’s shoulder and her hand carding through that messy, dark hair. She was so tired of the false platitudes, the feigned interest and concern. For a spare moment, she wished she’d never created the collars of obedience.
They were useless.
“Tell me, Lois,” she spat halfheartedly as she lifted her head, her fingers finding the clasp of the crystalline circlet. “If you had known your child would be a monster, would you have birthed him?”
As soon as the clasp was undone, Lois’s eyes focused sharply, her lips parting as she drew in a long breath, her mind clear for the first time in many months. “What the hell kind of question is that?” she snapped, weakly attempting to shove Ursa away. “I love my son. And where is he?”
Ursa frowned, backing off and returning to the bed to sit. “Your son is fine. He is asleep in the next room. Know that I would never harm him, as he is the son of Kal-El. I have no desire to upset either my First Attendant or my First Male.”
Lois’s gaze flickered in the direction Ursa had nodded, and she seemed to deflate a bit, satisfied, albeit irritated. Then, “What the hell happened to you, sister? All this calm melancholy is freaking me out. It ain’t you.”
Insolent, as always. But perhaps … perhaps her concern was genuine.
A small ghost of a laugh escaped Ursa. “It seems that there are some things that even Kryptonian technology cannot make easier. Which, I suppose, is another thing we can blame on the patriarchy. The all-mighty Science Council never cared much for the health of Krypton’s women.”
The Attendant’s face paled, her mouth falling open again. “Wait a minute. Are you telling me that you had a … a-”
“I destroyed what would have grown to be a half-breed, yes.” Ursa counted it as a success that her voice never wavered.
But Lois became even more agitated, her face turning some sort of emotional gymnastics as she put things together in her head, and at last she propped her hands on her hips and glared at Ursa squarely. “So you got yourself knocked up by a mere human, huh? Couldn’t stand the thought of having a freak for a kid? That’s sick, even for you, lady.”
Ursa scowled, the need to throw a verbal barb at the other woman strong. “The child’s father would have been your pilot.”
At that, Lois’s face blanched even further, her hands falling to her sides. “Richard … oh God,” she breathed. “You … you can’t just-”
Holding up a palm, Ursa shook her head slightly. “What’s done is done. He does not know, nor does he need to.”
For a long moment, words seemed to fail Lois, and with an exasperated sigh, she dropped down on the bed next to Ursa and eyed her critically. “I know there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop you from this man-hating world domination thing you have going on, but for fuck’s sake, why? Why do you have to hurt everyone so damn much? What the hell happened to you that made you so bug-nuts?”
Despite her best efforts, Ursa’s chest tightened at the question, her spine stiffening and jaw clenching. Her past did not bear contemplation.
Still … there might be hope for this one after all. Lifting her chin, she studied her Attendant in return. Lois was a strong woman, worthy indeed of the honor of standing with her at the head of the world. There was no reason to destroy her, whether with words or with her own hands, as Ursa longed to at the moment.
Indeed, it was a ridiculous endeavor to punish either of them for the choice she made. Doubt was as useless as the weakling boy. And taking pity on both of them might prove useful in the long run.
“The boy’s father is alive, you know.” The confession felt like ashes on her tongue, but once the words were out, she was surprised to feel lighter.
“What? Kal-El … ” Lois breathed, her eyes widening. “Is he-?”
“He has returned from his fool’s errand. He is alive, and he is here.”
She didn’t think it was possible for Lois to look even more shocked, but the way her hazel eyes rolled back in her head proved otherwise, the woman’s body falling slack to drop back onto the bed, unconscious.
A small sigh, and Ursa rose to reattach the collar and finish dressing on her own. There was much to do, and more self-flagellation would only delay her.
XIII. First Male
Kal-El looked weak.
Of course he did; Ursa had had him in chains for several weeks now, after finding his ship crashed in the middle of nowhere, an old woman attempting to care for his wounds. He was healed, of course, but the red sun chamber had done its work well, and the golden glow on his skin that Ursa remembered was gone. Instead, he was pale, shivering as he sagged against the chains, his beard beginning to grow and his eyes ringed with darkness.
It was a pity that her First Attendant had to see him this way.
“My Queen. What-?” Lois’s voice wavered, the collar of obedience not quite hiding the shock and terror that the woman must have felt.
Lowering the shield, Ursa guided Lois inside. “He has no powers,” she explained tightly. “He must learn that I am his Queen, and that I control his destiny.”
A glance to her Attendant, and she noted the slip of a tear down the woman’s cheek, even as those eyes looked upon her long lost love with only seeming curiosity. “Kal-El … ” she whispered.
Kal-El’s eyes came up at last, his head barely lifting, and his expression bloomed as he recognized the Attendant. “Lo-Lois?” he croaked, his voice rusty from disuse. “What have you done to her!?”
Ursa allowed herself a small smile as she reached up to open the shackles circling weak wrists. “Only what was necessary. She is my gift to you, Kal-El. Do with her as you please. I will return in three days.”
His knees nearly gave out beneath him, but Kal-El caught himself, managing to stand and gather Lois into his arms, the two of them murmuring reassurances to one another.
The sight was sickening, Ursa’s stomach turning with it. She certainly had no need to watch her Mate and her Attendant betray her in this manner. But it was pity. They were a gift for one another. Allowing them this time together would assure their obedience.
Straightening, she turned and left them alone, raising the shield behind her, unable to tune out the sound of Kal-El removing Lois’s collar and the sobbing that followed.
XIV. Half-Breed
Standing at the crystalline window, Ursa gazed out at the sprawling city below her. The shining facets of Kryptonian architecture reflected the yellow sun back at her, and her skin warmed with it. Indeed, the growth of New Kryptonopolis was proceeding faster than she’d calculated, the city overtaking what was once called Metropolis with gleaming spires and crystalline splendor. Soon, all the old brick and steel-primitive products-would be subsumed, disappeared beneath what would be Earth’s new capitol, her seat of power.
Caught up in her thoughts and the tingling warmth of the sun as it fed her, Ursa almost didn’t hear the child as he came up to her, his own face turned toward the sun.
“Mommy’s crying,” he said quietly.
With a frown, she reached down and placed a hand atop his unruly hair. “There is nothing to be done for it, boy.”
The child looked up to his Queen. “Can I see my Daddy today?”
That turned Ursa’s frown into a small smile; the boy still believed that the pilot was his father. Pathetic human lies. “Tomorrow, I promise. Now go fetch my Second Attendant. I wish to go down into the city today to retrieve a new male for my collection.”
A nod, and the boy scampered away, leaving Ursa with her thoughts once again.
Perhaps the child was not so useless as she’d believed. Until she had a true heir, he might make a good liaison to the people in her servitude. He could bridge the gap between the humans and their Kryptonian superiors.
It was a possibility, at any rate.
For now, Ursa had an enclosure that needed filling, one of hundreds, really, and a need to bring a new mate into her bed.
~*~*~*~
Fandom: Superman Movieverse
Characters/Pairings: (in order of appearance over 14 parts) Jimmy Olsen/Ursa, Lana Lang/Ursa, Perry White/Ursa, Richard White/Ursa, Non/Ursa/Zod, Non/Ursa, Lex Luthor/Ursa, Lex Luthor/Ursa/Zod, Eve Tessmacher/Ursa, Eve Tessmacher/Kitty Kowalski/Lana Lang/Lois Lane/Ursa, Richard White/Ursa (again), Lois Lane/Ursa, Clark Kent/Lois Lane/Ursa, Ursa & Jason White
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,372
Prompt: For PB XIII: slave, collar, kneel, superior, death, For dcu_freeforall: Collar/Leash; For the Superman Movieverse Pairings Challenge: Crystalline, Slave/Enslave, Loyalty, Pilot, Mistake
Summary: Ursa has everything she could ever want or need.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own everything, the schmucks.
Author's Notes: Totally AU, obviously, and an amalgam of STM, SII, and SR. I even made a lot of shit up here to fill in the gaps. Heh. This got way too long to post at the PB, so here it is, posted quick like since I'm almost out of time.
WARNINGS: This is a seriously triggery piece. I'm not even joking. I feel like a seriously bad feminist for the way this went. Warnings for dub-con, rape, torture, murder (major character death), and abortion. If any of those things trigger you, please move on. Sorry.
Harem
I. Puppy
Visually inspecting the boy, her first visit of the morning, Ursa, hummed to herself in satisfaction. The boy was a spitfire, energetic and angry, always so quick to fight her-exactly what she needed to start her day.
“Leave me alone,” the boy-no more than a puppy, to be honest-spat at her as she lowered the shield that held him in his crystalline enclosure and stepped inside. His curly hair was unruly this morning, his eyes wild and bloodshot from lack of sleep. “I don’t want anything to do with you. When Superman comes back, he’ll make you pay for this.”
As usual, his morning erection was fully present, despite his ire.
A soft laugh, and Ursa unclasped her robe. “Kneel, my pet,” she ordered him, “or I will kill you where you lie.” A brief flare of her heat vision to illustrate her point, and to her glee, the puppy knelt, despite himself.
“You can’t make me-” the boy tried to protest.
But he gulped as she grabbed his hair, fingers tightening in those unruly curls. “You will give me what I want.”
With a swift move, she pushed him back until he landed with his palms on the floor, his knees bent beneath him, and she lowered herself onto him, a sigh escaping her as his length filled her, opening her, stretching her.
After that, there was no more protest from her puppy.
II. Secondary Attendant
Allowing herself a long, contented purr, Ursa writhed beneath the ministrations of her Secondary Attendant, the woman known as Lana. Long fingers teased her breasts, ghosting over her nipples, while red hair spilled over her thighs, a very talented tongue worshiping Ursa’s core. Heat bloomed in her belly as that tongue darted in and out, promising bliss, and her body began to tighten as shocks of pleasure lit up every cell in her body.
“More,” she commanded, rolling her hips to meet that tongue as it worked.
A hum of acknowledgment met her in return, the vibrations tingling her center, and she gasped as her Attendant sped up, her tongue moving faster and one hand sliding down over her belly. Those long fingers disappeared, and Ursa loosed a cry as they entered her, spearing her deeply and curling over that hidden magical place within her. A supernova of pleasure cascaded through her as the redhead worked her to completion, and Ursa’s breath caught in her chest as white light flooded her vision, her release as strong as it had ever been with any male.
Many long moments later, Ursa tugged her Attendant up by the hair-so red, so luxurious-and settled her down on the shimmering bedsheets beside her, taking in her pale curves with heavily-lidded eyes. The woman was beautiful, certainly, and worthy of having her attentions returned.
Caressing the crystalline collar of obedience-her own creation, of course-that circled the Attendant’s neck, Ursa grinned, and bent down to bite a nipple, laughing to herself when the woman’s scream of pleasure filled the air.
III. Old Man
The old man was hardly worth her trouble. Too obstinate, too worn down, too odorous-the stench of those foul-smelling things he’d smoked still seemed to linger on his skin, even after all this time-and certainly too useless to her as a potential mate.
Still, he seemed to have a way about him that amused Ursa.
“Tell me,” she ordered him as she stood before his enclosure. “What would you do if I let you out of this cage?”
The old man glared at her, gritting his teeth and crossing his arms over his chest. “First thing I’d do,” he bit out, his voice a harsh growl, “would be to get my hands around your neck and wring the life out of you, your royal goddamn highness. Then I’d let the whole world know what you’ve been doing up here. There isn’t a military on the planet that wouldn’t have your perky ass in chains.”
Ursa laughed. “I like you. You think large. Of course, you overestimate both yourself and your planet. What makes you think that there is a military left anywhere on this world?”
The way his face blanched to near-white made Ursa laugh that much harder.
IV. Flyboy
The self-described pilot was one of Ursa’s favorites. Good for nearly any time of day and suitable for nearly all of her moods. He made her laugh, calmed her ire when she needed an outlet, made her scream with bliss when she needed to come so badly she could taste it, even lifted her spirits when she became overwhelmed with melancholy over having no equal of any kind on this world.
It seemed odd, that he was so different from the old man, when their blood relation should have given them nearly identical personalities. But no matter, his spirited personality was valued enough that he was the only male-besides Non, and he didn’t count-in her harem that she allowed out of his enclosure, a glittering collar of obedience circling his neck.
Curled into his side after a long mating session-she could hardly comprehend why these humans called it ‘lovemaking’, when the act had nothing to do with the emotion-Ursa sighed with mild contentment, sated and tired, her thoughts wandering. If only this one would obey when the collar was not in place, perhaps she would make him her First Male.
Even if he could only fly by the use of a machine. At least she would have someone in the air beside her.
V. Fool
The beard on Zod’s face had grown long since the last time Ursa had visited him. How odd that it suited him; wild and unkempt. But the fire in his eyes told her that he was no more broken now that he had been when she’d placed the collar around his neck and led him to the red sun chamber. No real embers glowed in those dark pools, only hatred.
“You will kneel before your General, Ursa,” he spat at her when she lowered the forcefield and entered his enclosure. “You defy me, and it will not be tolerated.”
Ursa only grinned-leered-at the pathetic excuse for a man that she had once followed so willingly into battle. That his arms were held in shackles certainly ruined the show of supremacy he tried to put on.
“You are a fool,” she said sweetly, grasping his chin with her long fingers. A tug, and she ripped a handful of hair from his beard, drawing a startled cry from his chapped lips. Yes, that was exactly what she wanted.
Of course, the process would be messy, and her ‘General’ would need to be cleaned up after she’d had her fun.
Her eyes on her pet, she called over her shoulder for Non to attend her.
VI. Silent Servant
Though there were times when Ursa valued a male who could converse intelligently with her, this was not one of them. The silence that Non offered was a blessing, especially now that her ears still rang with Zod’s screams. Indeed, Non’s presence after her session with their former leader was a soothing balm to her nerves, his service to her a priceless gift. Unlike most of the other males she kept, Non was gentle, kind to her, assisting her even without a collar of obedience. He had no ego to speak of, no desire for freedom-why would he, when Ursa gave him everything he could ever need?-and his spark of violent cruelty had burned out long ago, leaving him with only a quiet eagerness to please.
Which he was doing now, to a great degree. Ursa’s eyes slid shut as he attended her in the bath, his large hand working the cleanser into her skin in careful circles, washing away Zod’s blood and filth.
Allowing herself a small smile, Ursa reached up to twine her fingers into his short hair and gently scratch his scalp, and his low hum of appreciation was a mirror to her own.
VII. Holo-Crystal Salesman
Ursa should have killed this one long ago. His smooth talk and desperate attempts at manipulation were tiresome, reminding her of a holo-crystal salesman-and they had been the dregs of Kryptonian society, not worth the air they once breathed.
Listening to his pathetic begging for mercy, however, pleased her in a way that the others certainly didn’t. With her hand tightening around his throat, her fingernails drawing beads of crimson from his sweat-slicked skin, he promised such outlandish things that all Ursa could do was laugh, her ribs actually aching from the cackles that she had no hope of stopping. What reason could she possibly have for desiring him as a mate, when the others more than sufficed? And the world was already hers, every male on the planet Earth hers to do with as she pleased, to take or to kill as she desired. This one would certainly not make a decent ruler for any primitive nation-state, either; his anatomy proved inadequate and incorrect.
“I’ll make you a queen, your excellency,” he croaked, his air supply dwindling as she tightened her grip. “Let me rule by your side, and you’ll have the world, everything, anything you want.”
Ursa nearly wheezed with laughter. “Foolish man. I am already a queen.”
But there was one thing he could give her, she realized, watching his face begin to turn purple. A flame of idea flickering into existence in her mind, she released Luthor’s throat and dragged him out of his enclosure by the wrist, smiling when he cried out as his forearm broke in her grip.
VIII. Emperor
“You have terrible taste, my dear.”
Zod’s voice grated on Ursa’s nerves, his arrogance still firmly in place even after she’d ripped every hair from his face, leaving him to bleed and scab and scar. But that was of no consequence. Today, she would finally show him the error of his ways.
Shoving Luthor into the enclosure, Ursa followed. Another shove, and the slimy human fell to his hands and knees, swallowing another cry of pain as he landed on his broken forearm.
“Your worship, I thought she’d killed you by now,” he joked tightly, grinning up at Zod insolently. “You look like you went ten rounds with Superman.”
“Silence,” Ursa commanded him, gripping his hair tightly in one hand. “I really should have killed you both ages ago. But I see now that this is my repayment for misplaced sentimentality.”
“I see you have something in mind, then,” Zod said, one eyebrow arched in challenge. “Will you torture us? Force me to watch you tear the throat out of this human, in hopes that I might learn my lesson? Or will you mate with us before you kill us? Take our seed and then destroy us?”
Ursa grimaced, despite herself. “I have no need or desire for seed from either of you. No, what I have in mind is much simpler.”
With that, she released Luthor’s hair and unlocked the shackles that held Zod to the wall, letting him slump to the floor on weakened legs. A small laugh at his bark of pain and the hard glare he leveled on Luthor, and she turned to leave, raising the shield after.
“Well, your generalness, looks like we’re stuck here together,” the human said after she’d gone. “You help me escape, and I’ll set you up as Emperor. You’ll have everything you-”
The echo of a croak and a snap followed her down the corridor, and Ursa grinned to herself. Several weeks with a dead body in his enclosure should change Zod’s attitude.
IX. Sister
“Is he really dead?”
The blonde’s eyes were large and hopeful as she presented Ursa with a clean robe.
“Yes, my sweet. At Zod’s hands. You have nothing further to fear from him,” Ursa said gently, slipping the shimmering material over her shoulders. “His neck made quite a satisfying snap as it broke.”
The Third Attendant smiled darkly, her posture showing her relief and glee. “Good. Thank you.”
Turning to the woman, Ursa cupped her chin with one hand, caressing smooth skin. “He was a waste of resources, and useless to us both. We will find you a suitable mate instead, my dear Sister, if you should desire one. After all, we have the entire world to seek one out for you. For all of you.”
Eve’s expression softened, her lips curling upward slightly, and Ursa dipped her head to kiss her slowly, savoring the taste of honey and sweet Earth fruits on those lips.
“Now go tell the others, and I will be with you shortly.”
“Yes, my Queen.”
X. The Five Faces of Raia
Ursa couldn’t imagine a more lovely sight. So much beauty, silken skin, hair of every shade, soft curves. Her Attendants were a wonder to behold. Even more a wonder to lie with. They were all that she needed, their companionship and service invaluable, the pleasure they gave her immeasurable.
“More, my Queen?”
The raven-haired woman called Catherine smiled up at her from the bed, her eyes bright and eager to please as she smoothed a hand over Ursa’s hip. This one was far more gentle than she had once assumed.
Settling down among her ladies again as they moved together on the shimmering sheets, Ursa hummed her approval. Four grins met her as the women turned their attentions to her pleasure, and she could not help but be reminded of the Five Faces of Raia, the Star of the Night, that the people of Krypton had so long ago forgotten. For many millennia, she had been the equal of Rao, and before that, far superior to him. Raia was Krypton. She was the dark, the twin moons, all the stars of the galaxy. She was the Mother, the Sister, the Lover, the Daughter, and the Queen. She was the Five Peoples-before two had been eradicated in Rao’s Great War-the Five Tongues, and the Five Paths. She was all that mattered, before worship of a male god had destroyed her.
But no longer would she be forgotten. Ursa and her Attendants would rule this planet, and as surely as their touch brought her to ecstasy again, Raia would be reborn.
XI. Mistake
This could not be happening.
Carefully reading the results on the diagnostics screen again, she hissed despite herself, her lips curling back over her teeth. A child. She had conceived a child.
With the human male, the pilot.
It was incomprehensible, that she had allowed this to happen. That she had been careless enough to allow his seed to impregnate her. She had taken precautions, by Raia! And now was not the time to reproduce; she had only barely just conquered the Earth!
Seething, she contemplated the repercussions of this development. A halfling child. She would be a hybrid, neither human nor Kryptonian. A freak. A monster.
She was a mistake.
No, she could not be allowed to be birthed. That privilege belonged to another. If Ursa would carry a child, it would be the daughter of Kal-El-the only male worthy of her-and she would be the rightful heir to the House of Faora, Ursa’s mother. She would be Kryptonian.
Forcing down errant thoughts of the child of Lois Lane and Kal-El, the weakling hybrid boy that Ursa intended to raise as her own, she reclined on the cool surface of the diagnostic table and spoke three simple words to the computer.
“Begin the extraction.”
XII. First Attendant
The following days should not have been difficult. Ursa had done what was required to help her womb heal after the extraction; she had rested, had taken her leave of her males, had even distanced herself from her Attendants.
Still, her center ached. Emptiness and cold seemed to penetrate every cell within her body, leaving her shivering, despite a warm bed. And her dreams kept her awake at night, long after she should have been asleep. The boy. His eyes. His Kryptonian eyes.
But a Queen should never second-guess herself. The boy was useless, destined to be a servant to her, and nothing more. A half-human child of her own making would have been just as useless.
Those thoughts circling through her head one early morning, with the yellow sun still far below the horizon, Ursa called her First Attendant to her.
“You wanted to see me, my Queen?” the woman asked as she entered Ursa’s private chambers. Her hair was messy, her eyes darkened and puffy with sleep.
At least someone could rest.
“Assist me,” Ursa snapped, resisting the urge to grind her teeth as she rose from her bed, gooseflesh rising on her skin. It was too cold.
A nod, and the woman-Lois-fetched her robe and helped Ursa into it, the fabric still not enough to warm her. “Would you like some tea?”
Frowning, Ursa shook her head. She needed something much stronger, something to help clear her head of this ridiculous sentimentality that seemed to be plaguing her. “Coffee,” she commanded.
Lois’s eyes widened fractionally, her honest surprise showing through the haze of the collar of obedience. “Cream and sugar or black?”
“I have no need to dull the flavor of the drink. Just bring it to me at once.”
Seemingly taken aback, the woman scurried away to do as she was told, returning several moments later with a mug of steaming liquid in one hand and a full carafe in the other.
Settled on the edge of the bed with a crystalline data pad in her hands-the work of the Queen never ended it seemed-Ursa took the mug and drank the coffee in one long swallow. The bitterness was a good match to her foolish feelings after all. It was only a shame that the heat of the drink could not burn her throat.
“Is my Queen all right?” Lois asked, a look of genuine concern on her face now as she stood back, waiting for instruction. “You’ve been absent for several days.”
The sharp sound of the mug shattering as it hit the far wall pierced the air in response, Ursa on her feet and cornering her Attendant with rage coursing through her. Her fingers closed around the woman’s neck, and-
And all at once, the fight seemed to drain from her. Exhaustion seemed to overwhelm her, and the only thing she could do was slump against Lois, her head dropping to the woman’s shoulder and her hand carding through that messy, dark hair. She was so tired of the false platitudes, the feigned interest and concern. For a spare moment, she wished she’d never created the collars of obedience.
They were useless.
“Tell me, Lois,” she spat halfheartedly as she lifted her head, her fingers finding the clasp of the crystalline circlet. “If you had known your child would be a monster, would you have birthed him?”
As soon as the clasp was undone, Lois’s eyes focused sharply, her lips parting as she drew in a long breath, her mind clear for the first time in many months. “What the hell kind of question is that?” she snapped, weakly attempting to shove Ursa away. “I love my son. And where is he?”
Ursa frowned, backing off and returning to the bed to sit. “Your son is fine. He is asleep in the next room. Know that I would never harm him, as he is the son of Kal-El. I have no desire to upset either my First Attendant or my First Male.”
Lois’s gaze flickered in the direction Ursa had nodded, and she seemed to deflate a bit, satisfied, albeit irritated. Then, “What the hell happened to you, sister? All this calm melancholy is freaking me out. It ain’t you.”
Insolent, as always. But perhaps … perhaps her concern was genuine.
A small ghost of a laugh escaped Ursa. “It seems that there are some things that even Kryptonian technology cannot make easier. Which, I suppose, is another thing we can blame on the patriarchy. The all-mighty Science Council never cared much for the health of Krypton’s women.”
The Attendant’s face paled, her mouth falling open again. “Wait a minute. Are you telling me that you had a … a-”
“I destroyed what would have grown to be a half-breed, yes.” Ursa counted it as a success that her voice never wavered.
But Lois became even more agitated, her face turning some sort of emotional gymnastics as she put things together in her head, and at last she propped her hands on her hips and glared at Ursa squarely. “So you got yourself knocked up by a mere human, huh? Couldn’t stand the thought of having a freak for a kid? That’s sick, even for you, lady.”
Ursa scowled, the need to throw a verbal barb at the other woman strong. “The child’s father would have been your pilot.”
At that, Lois’s face blanched even further, her hands falling to her sides. “Richard … oh God,” she breathed. “You … you can’t just-”
Holding up a palm, Ursa shook her head slightly. “What’s done is done. He does not know, nor does he need to.”
For a long moment, words seemed to fail Lois, and with an exasperated sigh, she dropped down on the bed next to Ursa and eyed her critically. “I know there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop you from this man-hating world domination thing you have going on, but for fuck’s sake, why? Why do you have to hurt everyone so damn much? What the hell happened to you that made you so bug-nuts?”
Despite her best efforts, Ursa’s chest tightened at the question, her spine stiffening and jaw clenching. Her past did not bear contemplation.
Still … there might be hope for this one after all. Lifting her chin, she studied her Attendant in return. Lois was a strong woman, worthy indeed of the honor of standing with her at the head of the world. There was no reason to destroy her, whether with words or with her own hands, as Ursa longed to at the moment.
Indeed, it was a ridiculous endeavor to punish either of them for the choice she made. Doubt was as useless as the weakling boy. And taking pity on both of them might prove useful in the long run.
“The boy’s father is alive, you know.” The confession felt like ashes on her tongue, but once the words were out, she was surprised to feel lighter.
“What? Kal-El … ” Lois breathed, her eyes widening. “Is he-?”
“He has returned from his fool’s errand. He is alive, and he is here.”
She didn’t think it was possible for Lois to look even more shocked, but the way her hazel eyes rolled back in her head proved otherwise, the woman’s body falling slack to drop back onto the bed, unconscious.
A small sigh, and Ursa rose to reattach the collar and finish dressing on her own. There was much to do, and more self-flagellation would only delay her.
XIII. First Male
Kal-El looked weak.
Of course he did; Ursa had had him in chains for several weeks now, after finding his ship crashed in the middle of nowhere, an old woman attempting to care for his wounds. He was healed, of course, but the red sun chamber had done its work well, and the golden glow on his skin that Ursa remembered was gone. Instead, he was pale, shivering as he sagged against the chains, his beard beginning to grow and his eyes ringed with darkness.
It was a pity that her First Attendant had to see him this way.
“My Queen. What-?” Lois’s voice wavered, the collar of obedience not quite hiding the shock and terror that the woman must have felt.
Lowering the shield, Ursa guided Lois inside. “He has no powers,” she explained tightly. “He must learn that I am his Queen, and that I control his destiny.”
A glance to her Attendant, and she noted the slip of a tear down the woman’s cheek, even as those eyes looked upon her long lost love with only seeming curiosity. “Kal-El … ” she whispered.
Kal-El’s eyes came up at last, his head barely lifting, and his expression bloomed as he recognized the Attendant. “Lo-Lois?” he croaked, his voice rusty from disuse. “What have you done to her!?”
Ursa allowed herself a small smile as she reached up to open the shackles circling weak wrists. “Only what was necessary. She is my gift to you, Kal-El. Do with her as you please. I will return in three days.”
His knees nearly gave out beneath him, but Kal-El caught himself, managing to stand and gather Lois into his arms, the two of them murmuring reassurances to one another.
The sight was sickening, Ursa’s stomach turning with it. She certainly had no need to watch her Mate and her Attendant betray her in this manner. But it was pity. They were a gift for one another. Allowing them this time together would assure their obedience.
Straightening, she turned and left them alone, raising the shield behind her, unable to tune out the sound of Kal-El removing Lois’s collar and the sobbing that followed.
XIV. Half-Breed
Standing at the crystalline window, Ursa gazed out at the sprawling city below her. The shining facets of Kryptonian architecture reflected the yellow sun back at her, and her skin warmed with it. Indeed, the growth of New Kryptonopolis was proceeding faster than she’d calculated, the city overtaking what was once called Metropolis with gleaming spires and crystalline splendor. Soon, all the old brick and steel-primitive products-would be subsumed, disappeared beneath what would be Earth’s new capitol, her seat of power.
Caught up in her thoughts and the tingling warmth of the sun as it fed her, Ursa almost didn’t hear the child as he came up to her, his own face turned toward the sun.
“Mommy’s crying,” he said quietly.
With a frown, she reached down and placed a hand atop his unruly hair. “There is nothing to be done for it, boy.”
The child looked up to his Queen. “Can I see my Daddy today?”
That turned Ursa’s frown into a small smile; the boy still believed that the pilot was his father. Pathetic human lies. “Tomorrow, I promise. Now go fetch my Second Attendant. I wish to go down into the city today to retrieve a new male for my collection.”
A nod, and the boy scampered away, leaving Ursa with her thoughts once again.
Perhaps the child was not so useless as she’d believed. Until she had a true heir, he might make a good liaison to the people in her servitude. He could bridge the gap between the humans and their Kryptonian superiors.
It was a possibility, at any rate.
For now, Ursa had an enclosure that needed filling, one of hundreds, really, and a need to bring a new mate into her bed.
~*~*~*~