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Keyword Destiny: Postscripts	By : Kereliah Category: +G through L > Invader Zim Views: 2219 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Invader Zim, and I'm not making any financial profit off this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
7. War Games
"I'm not so sure I like where this is going."
Before she could scramble off the bed and start screwing up my plans, I snapped the cuffs around Tak's wrists and stretched her arms up above her head, threading the indestructible laser-cable that linked them through a hook I'd installed maybe a foot up from the head of the bed.
"Don't pussy out on me now, Sticky," I said. "You agreed to let me do this, and I don't recall including a backout clause."
She eyed me warily from where she lay on the bed, unable to do much else with her arms bound above her. "Remind me what this is?"
"What, have you got Alzheimers? It's a pretty simple concept to grasp." I climbed onto the bed, situated myself between her legs, and leaned forward, grinning. I had to say, she made a pretty picture, lying there stark naked, trussed up, and ready to be devoured. Like a roasted pig with an apple in its mouth – only, you know, sexier.
"I'm going to find out how much you can take."
She set her jaw and looked me dead in the eyes, meeting my smile with a smirk of her own. It made me want to make her scream twice as badly. "I can take," she declared, in a tone that said my challenge was so flimsy it was beneath her even to accept it, "anything you can dish out."
"We'll see."
I went easy on her at first, sinking down into the triangle of space between her thighs, pulling her gently open and flicking my tongue inside her. I took my sweet time eating her out real thorough, until I had a serious case of drippy melon-face and she was a puddle of sighing, purring bliss.
Twitchy little flutters leapt to meet my tongue, quivers coursing through her legs on my shoulders. Her back arched, crushing her hips against my face. I could've brought her off like that no problem, had I kept at it just a short while longer, but tonight, we were playing a different game.
Her heavy, dreamy breathing stumbled over itself, when I lifted my head and backed slowly out of the tangle of her legs, but otherwise she didn't let herself react. I could feel her eyes following me as I scooted to the edge of the bed, opened a panel on the bedside table, and produced my personal cookie jar: a drawstring bag that held an assortment of sexy confections, among which was a veritable library of vibrators.
I mean, any lesbian worth her salt has to know her way around a vibrator, and I'd jumped right into rebuilding my collection once we got ourselves established on the Massive. That night, I picked out one of those little bullets with a sleeve that fit over my index finger. I'd once had something like it on Earth, where my girlfriends knew it as a clit-seeking missile, but that didn't mean there weren't other ways I could use one on Tak.
I skooched back between her legs and fired the bullet up, beginning to trace it lightly along the outside of her inside. She didn't really have pussy lips, probably because she didn't really have a pussy, but whatever she did have (seriously, as well as I knew it, I still had no idea what it was actually called) was plenty sensitive around its borders.
I stroked her without ever dipping inside her, feeling her muscles tighten with anticipation. She kept thinking I was going to do it, going to push in, and her body would lock up and she'd breathe quick and shallow and a little gush of clear fluid would trickle down to the blanket. Then, when I didn't – when all she got was the buzz of the bullet just an inch from where she wanted to feel it most – she would let out a frustrated growl, and I would smile.
When the bullet was glistening wet and Tak was getting squirmy, she finally spoke up. "What on Irk are you doing down there, child?" she demanded, struggling to steady her breathing. "And dare I ask why?"
"We're sorry," I said sweetly, neither looking nor letting up. "None of our representatives are available to take your call at this time. If you'd like to cancel our services, press one to swallow your pride and admit that you can't take even a fraction of what we can dish out. If you'd like to give us your opinion of our customer service, press two to shut the fuck up."
When I got tired of tormenting her that way, I wiped the egg clean, dropped it back into the bag, and fished out another vibrator. This one was bigger, longer, actually more of a dildo if you want to get technical about it.
Like the ones in my old collection had sported clit-ticklers and G-spot stimulators, it had a cluster of studs right about where it would hit her sweet spot, her appreciation for which Tak had already expressed (very loudly) on several occasions. At the moment, she was refusing to look at me, but I could see her muscles jump when I flipped it on.
I picked up again pretending to be nice to her, pushing the new vibrator all the way into her all at once. Her hips jerked, and she made a sound – something between an mmh and an ahn! – that was so hot it got me hot, in a flash of envy for the fireworks exploding down her nerves.
I cranked the dial up to its highest setting and pumped the vibrator in and out of her, switching up the pace every so often. Sometimes slow so that I could watch her grinding up against the studs, her eyes closed, her teeth digging into her lower lip. Sometimes faster, just to hear her gasp and squeak. She was already super slick, so it was deliciously easy to move the vibrator inside of her; a few seconds into fucking her with it, I was already itching to grab my strap-on.
Reminding myself that it was as much my challenge to maintain self-control as hers, I worked on her with just the vibrator until I could tell I'd brought her to the brink. After so many years, I knew the signs of her mounting crisis: her whole body tensing, her brow creasing, the high-pitched unhs and ahs that burst from her throat at machine-gun speed.
I waited until she was almost, almost there—just another second—and I shut the vibrator off, pulling it out.
"Wha—?" She jerked her head up as far as she could, drenched in sweat, her chest heaving. When her eyes flicked to me, whistling gaily as I dried and put away the vibrator, a snarl rose in her throat. "You vile—!"
She caught herself just in time, and I turned to her with a smile. "You got something to say to me, Sticky? I'd love to hear it."
She just glared up at me, silent. I draped myself over her, wrapping my arms around her waist, ghosting my half-open mouth over hers. At first, she kept it clamped shut, and I pressed my lips to the spot where her jaw met her neck.
"Think hard, now," I murmured against her skin, well aware that I was having way too much fun with every part of this. "Is this really going to help convince me to take you where you want to go?"
The tension in her neck dissolved and she received my lips when next they met hers, her arms pulling against the cuffs as if being summoned by my shoulders. She couldn't hold me, though, no matter how hard she tried, so she had to lie there and let me hold her, let me kiss her, surrender every last inch of her body to me and fuck, what a rush that was, every time. Nothing like a power trip to really turn a girl on.
I began to grind against her as I kissed her, making her moan softly into my mouth. It wouldn't be enough to finish her, but it would be enough to stoke the fire crackling inside of her, enough to remind her how bad she wanted more. I did it just long enough to feel her hips start bucking, then slid down to scatter kisses over her neck, her collarbone, her chest, all the while trailing the tips of my fingernails up and down her sides.
She shivered, but she said nothing – barely let a sound slip her lips. Even when I sucked a patch of skin into my mouth and bit her – when I ran my fingertips up along the undersides of her arms to the elbows, where I knew she was ticklish – she clung to her composure like the reins of a rearing horse.
And don't get me wrong, I gave her serious credit for it. I hadn't thought she'd last this long. But that night, she was my wild horse, and it was my job to break her.
"You know," I said, kissing my way lazily down her torso, feeling her shift and twist as I got lower and lower, "sometimes, when you're fighting a losing battle, it's better to forfeit than be defeated. Then, at least, you preserve a little dignity. Don't you think so?"
Tak cut a short huff of breath. "Irrelevant," she muttered. "I'm not losing anything tonight."
"What makes you think I'm talking about tonight?" I said innocently. "Maybe I was just trying to initiate a dialogue – a fleet commander to her Tallest, completely on the level."
"In that case, Commander Gaz," she sniffed, "perhaps I shall have to demote you for your poor grasp of military strategy. You don't maintain an Empire by forfeiting. Ever."
I grinned. "Point taken, my Tallest."
When I finally slipped back between her legs, I didn't, as I'm sure she hoped I would, go down on her again. Instead, I kissed her everywhere but where she was aching for my mouth – her hipbones, her lower belly, her inner thighs.
I made a game out of seeing how close I could come to the sticky honey-halo around her entrance without moistening my lips. I could tell it was driving her crazy, not only because she was writhing, making me lock my arms around her thighs to keep her still, but because I only had to do it a few minutes to get her wetter than the Florida Everglades.
"If we were waging a battle right now," she groaned eventually, "this would be a war crime."
"Hey, we never agreed I wouldn't fight dirty."
I rose to my knees, digging through my bag again. From it, I produced the cherry on the sundae (or, uh…the banana on the split): my strap-on, ready and waiting to get its piece of the action.
I buckled it on, yanking the straps good and tight, and double-checked to be sure the neural manipulator was switched off. Then, I took hold of her hips and slid into her to the hilt, savoring the strangled cry that ripped from her throat as I filled her completely.
Usually, when I spoke or thought about my strap-on, I used personal pronouns: whispering that I knew how she wanted me inside her, telling her I was going to fuck her cross-eyed. It wasn't really a part of me – the neural manipulator packed a punch, but it had the same limitations as Tak's old hologram; it couldn't give me sensation in body parts I didn't have – but I talked about it as if it were, and sometimes it almost felt that way, too.
As I laid down on top of her, nestling my head against her chest, inhaling the smoky musk of her sweat, I found myself feeling that there was nothing sweeter than the warmth inside of her. That I could lie there all night, perfectly still, just loving the way her body hugged me.
When she realized that I was in no hurry to move, she made a sound that, while not quite a moan nor a growl, came out with enough strength to ruffle my hair. "Oh, you can't be serious."
"What? You're comfortable." I closed my eyes, sighing contentedly. "In fact," I added, "if this whole Almighty Tallest thing doesn't work out, you might consider a career as a lawn chair."
For a good long while, I laid still on top and inside of her, pretending she was a hot spring and getting my soak on. Enjoying the faint, breathy grunts that escaped her mouth as she panted, the way she was pulsing and constricting inside, how she'd shift her hips in a feeble attempt to create friction.
Of course, she wouldn't tell me what she wanted, so I didn't give it to her – just lounged and let her stew in her own juices, getting herself nice and worked up without me even breaking a sweat. This time, I thought, she would crack for sure. Soon enough, she'd be begging me to fuck her brains out.
But again, I was surprised. She held her ground and stayed clammed up, still refusing to forfeit. Uninterested in literally lying there all night, I reared up and began to move in her, slowly; she started breathing harder, shoving her hips against me, but I wasn't going fast enough to get her to really cut loose.
I rode each thrust as deep as it would go and withdrew nearly all the way before I plunged in again, watching her shudder with every inch. She was dying to come, burning for it, but still – still! – she wouldn't give in. I got the feeling we could do this for another hour, until her arms had gone numb and she was incoherent with desire, and even then all I would get from her was a scoff and a scowl.
Which meant it was time to play my trump card. Reaching for my bag one last time, I showed her a small silver disc about the size of my palm, and smiled when her breath caught.
It was a deactivator disc: usually reserved for dangerous criminals, it attached to the central port of the pak, shutting down all but the life-sustaining functions. It was because of the pak that we never had to think about things like limits or safewords – if I crossed a hard line, all she had to do was pop out her spider-legs and pull me off of her. So long as she had it, she was never truly bound.
I waved the deactivator disc back and forth in front of her face, her eyes sticking to it all the time. "You really want to find out what you can take?" I purred. "Let's see if you can take a whole night lying here alone, desperate for a crisis that never comes. Maybe more than a night – maybe twenty-four hours. Maybe thirty-six. You won't know, will you? Not until I decide to let you go.
"Maybe I'll set you up with an egg and leave you here to deal with that – let you come as many times as you can handle, until you're delirious with pleasure. Or maybe I'll tell you you're not allowed to come, and you've earned another hour every time you do. I might do a whole lot of things, if you don't wise up and surrender now.
"It'd be real easy, babe. All you'd have to do is admit you were wrong, that I've won—that I can do things to you you couldn't imagine in your wildest dreams. It might help if you threw in something about me being a sex goddess and the best lover in the universe, but I'm not saying you have to say that. Just beg me to make you come, and I will."
Tak stared at the deactivator disc. "You're bluffing."
"You want to find out?"
She glanced up at me, searching my face with narrow eyes. When her resolve solidified, she lifted her chin, and said coolly, "The Almighty Tallest begs for nothing."
I turned the deactivator disc between my index finger and thumb, watching it shine in the light. Thinking. Realizing that I'd never even considered the prospect that she might win.
Or the prospect that it might not be so bad after all. Weirdly enough, when it came to me that I had been bluffing, and I really didn't want to torture her for the next several days, I felt a pride richer than the pride of victory: the pride of knowing I'd landed one tough-ass bitch.
"Well-played, Sticky." I leaned in close to her face, my smile widening as I whispered, "You were a worthier opponent than I had imagined."
After that, I amped up the pace, pounding into her fast and hard for the thirty seconds it took her to blow. Her crisis crashed over her like a tsunami, her face contorting, her body convulsing; she gasped a string of Irken curse words, then fell limp, eyes rolled back in her head.
I swear to God, it was so fucking hot I came with her. Satisfaction and exhaustion swept over me in dual waves, and I collapsed on top of her, still inside her, both of us panting in near-perfect time.
When, after several minutes, she came back from the postorgasmic otherworld in her head, she nudged my foot with hers. "Get out."
"Mmm?"
"I said," she repeated herself, sounding irritated, "get out."
"Aww, why?" I mumbled into her chest. "You're all nice and gushy now. I feel like a kid on a Slip n' Slide."
"Get off of me, and remove your filthy apparatus from my body now!"
"Fine." With a groan, I heaved myself up and withdrew from her, watching her eyes squeeze briefly shut in a wince. Unbuckling my strap-on with a few quick tugs, I slipped out of the harness and grabbed a cloth to dry it. By the time I turned back to Tak, she had extended one of her pak's limbs, deactivated the laser-cable, and flopped back down on the bed, without so much as bothering to pull the cuffs off of her wrists. "Ruin all of my fun."
She snorted weakly as I snuggled up to her. "I think you've had quite enough fun for one night."
"Yeah, well. I always have fun with you."
- 6
- 7
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Keyword Destiny: Postscripts