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The Ones Left Behind Catra Adora Fic	By : LotornoMiko Category: +S through Z > She-Ra Views: 9501 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the fandom of SHe-ra Princess of Power. Nor do I make money off of this fic or the She-ra fandom.

Chapter List
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Standard Disclaimer Time! I do not own Catra, Adora, or any of the characters of She-ra. Nor do I own the fandom of She-ra. I make no money off of this story of the fandom of She-ra. Done purely for entertainment purposes!
----Michelle
Stuff I couldn't fit into the Summary space: This is a total revamping, rewrite of my The One Left Behind story, which was my first attempt at a lemon many years ago. It's got the same premise, but a whole different plot going on to it.
The big plot thing that brings the characters together is, based on characters and things from an actual ep. In my story, a new queen sits on the throne of the planet Argo. This offers new opportunities to both the Horde and the Rebellion, and it's a race to see who gets the alliance first, and more importantly, the Argonian's powercells.
Course there will be more going on then just that....but you'll have to read to find out. :) Just bear with me as I write slowly....or somewhat slowly...depends on how inspired I am feeling....and health wise too...
----Michelle

It is the soft sound of laughter that wakes me, the gentle happiness it contains so foreign and unfamiliar in this place. I am used to the wicked amusement my fellow Hordesmen express, the malicious delight they take in hurting others. It is a rough noise, so different from the quiet joy you express. I instantly know that no one has had to suffer for that laugh, and my own lips curve in a welcoming smile.
A kiss follows that smile, the softest lips I have ever felt touching my own. There is no hesitation in you, your lips slanting over mine so that our mouths fit together perfectly. And with that connection, a fire awakens within me. You respond with an answering hunger, the kiss deepening with urgent need. We don't just use our lips, we add tongue and teeth to the kiss. Licking one minute, doing tender nips the next. It is no hardship to open to you, your tongue bringing your taste to me as it glides into my mouth.
You taste sweet, my tongue moving urgently against yours. Trying for every bit of contact, my hands pulling you more firmly against me. Letting me feel the soft contours of your body, your large breasts pressing against mine. Your nipples have already stiffened, that bit of hardness rubbing against my own. Pleasure erupts at that contact, my moan being issued into the kiss. I want more and know I will never be able to have enough of you, even as my hands frantically clutch and move over your body.
That laughter again, the sweetest sound I have ever heard. Together we move, rolling on the bed so that I end up on top of you. I sink my weight into you, wanting to pin you in place so that you can never leave. I suppose even then I knew this wasn't real, that your presence here was nothing more than the conjuring of a lonely mind. But I don't want to acknowledge that I am dreaming, that I am desperately longing to recapture the past.
Your hand touches my cheek. It is the gentleness you use that brings me to open my eyes. I stare down at you. seeing the soft blue of your eyes that look at me with tender adoration. A familiar pain tightens my chest. You don't look at me that way anymore. You haven't for months now. Nor have I been privy to your smile, your touch, your taste, or any bit of regard. You've completely tossed me aside, holding no care or concern for me, nor any contempt. I don't mean anything to you now, and perhaps I never did.
"What's wrong?" You ask, and I realize a tear has slipped down my cheek. I shake my head, and you reach up to catch my face with your hands. The tears truly start then as you begin to lick at the wet trails they leave. I tremble, my voice hoarse as I say your name.
"Adora."
I can't bear the kindness the you of my dreams show me. I roughly grab at your shoulders, pushing you back down to the bed. Wanting to bury inside you, bury my pain and heartbreak into the feel of your body. I kiss you now, and it is practically violent, my teeth scraping over your bottom lip. You have no complaint to voice, accepting everything about me which only stirs my upset even more.
You react to my turmoil, trying to reach for me. I bat away your hands, pinning your wrists above your head. You don't struggle save to arch against me, so that our bodies slide together. Your legs have spread to fit around my body in blatant invitation. You want whatever I'll give you, even if this should turn violent and I hurt you.
Oh Adora....I want so much more than to hurt you. I want your tears and your smiles, want to hear your laughter again and again. I want the sweet taste of you on my tongue, want to hear you moan my name. Just as I want to make you bleed, to see you cry out in pain. I want your everything, for you to exist for nothing and no one but me. I want to make you regret the choices you have made. I want you to realize you need me more than you need air to breathe.
This dream is nothing more than futile fancy. No matter what I do to you here, you'll still completely ignore me in the waking world. And yet Adora, you are too tempting a morsel to resist, even if you are nothing more than a figment of my imagination. I let go of your wrists, needing my hands free to touch you. I caress up and down the sides of your body, teasing you before I make a move towards your breasts. You tremble beneath me, and begin a delightful dance, squirming in response to my hand's caresses.
Your breasts are larger than my small hands can easily hold. I make the effort all the same, fingers flexing, working to massage that pliant flesh. I fondle and squeeze you, than circle the tips of my long nails around your nipples. You moan then, a breathy plea to me.
"Catra...." You say. "Don't tease me..."
You don't truly mean that. You've always loved the tease, the torture of the build up almost more than the satisfying climaxes I have given you in the past. You are a greedy creature Adora, your appetite for pleasure knowing no bounds, matching, perhaps even surpassing my own. How often have we spent days just pleasuring each other, shut away from the world and the responsibilities of our jobs?
My lips pucker, and I hear you breathe out a pleased yes. You're an impatient girl, Adora, pushing insistently at my mouth so that your nipple slips past my lips. I don't mind, hungry for you. I suck and pull, lips tugging insistently at you. My tongue thoroughly moistens your nipple as you writhe against me. You make incoherent sounds, and a glance up at your face shows your blue eyes have glazed over with pleasure. How much more will you enjoy yourself when I turn my mouth to elsewhere on your body?
I'll find out soon enough, but for now I am more than happy to focus on your breasts. Your body is truly a feast, Adora, a favorite meal I can't help having again and again. And I've gone so long without it, I am a starving woman. But the dream you can't truly satisfy my hunger. Even as I began to suck more furiously on your nipple, I am aware of the void left in me. The pain that guts me like a knife and it is your hand that twists the handle.
When your fingers delve between my legs, their soft touch stroking insistently along my wet slit, I jolt awake for real. I am prepared for my bed to be empty, and still it tears me apart to see that I am alone in my room. Alone and aching, restless and needy, hurting and wanting to hurt in return. I don't know which is worse. The pain of your abandonment, or the arousal the dream you has stirred in me. My nipples ache, and I am wet between my legs. I need you Adora, and know that is not an option available to me.
I want to cry but refuse to let you bring me down so low. I'll channel my hurt feelings into anger, and I'll go looking for a target to vent my rage on. The troopers that stand watch over the slave pens hardly look surprised to see me. Some might even smirk knowingly. It's not the first time I've come to this part of the Horde's lair, at this time of night, in this state. I am disheveled, my black hair wild and uncombed. I didn't even take the time to get dressed, throwing on a simple robe to cover my nakedness. My eyes hold a crazed look to them, the slaves that are paraded past looking frightened to see me. They are not comforted that I am a woman, knowing that a member of the Horde has to be cruel no matter what their gender is.
Anxiety builds within me as I search through the crowds of bedraggled slaves. I have very specific tastes, and fear there will be no one left to suit them. But finally I find her. A young woman with long blond hair, and eyes that aren't quite as vibrant a blue as Adora's. She is a recent capture, not having spent long in the slave pits. She hasn't had the time to be dirtied, her clothes relatively clean, with only a few cuts here and there. I feel fortunate to have found her, knowing another one of the force commanders could have beaten me to her.
"She's coming with me." I announce, and though the slaves are horrified, they do not vocally protests. They are too beaten down for that. The troopers drag the girl forward, and then I snatch her from their hands. She stumbles as I drag her back to my room, my pace hurried. My anger and arousal have not cooled one bit, and this girl will suffer for that.
We barely get into my room, and already I am slamming her into the wall opposite my bed. She can't quite stop her scream, and then my mouth is covering hers. She is braver than I expect, her hands suddenly pushing at me. But she is merely human, and can't possible expect to move one of my strength and determination. I kiss her harder, my mouth demanding she open to me. She refuses, the blonde preferring her lip be cut on my teeth rather than submit to my kiss. It's all right with me. I don't mind if she struggles.
I purposefully bite down on her bottom lip, hearing the pained sound she makes. She is still trying to shove me away from her, struggling and squirming as best she can when my hands dig into her tunic. The fabric catches on my nails, tearing apart easily. She screams again, but has no chance to cover herself before I am pulling her away from the wall. I let go of her only long enough to shove her onto the bed, and I can see the fear in her eyes. It's that fear that leads to her indecision, this girl not knowing what to do. She should try to run but instead she wastes her chance to try and pull her tunic close.
"Please..." She chokes on a sob, shaking violently. I slide off my robe, and join her on the bed. "Please don't do this."
I don't bother to respond to her pleas. She's too pretty to not be raped by someone in the horde. She should be grateful it's me and not one of the men Hordack employs or Scorpia. Even with the anger churning inside me, I'll never be quite as cruel as those others have proven to be.
She backs away from me as I crawl towards her. I know my eyes must look predatory, my prey turning even more terrified of me. I reach for her ankle, and haul her back towards me. Again she cries out a please, but I don't care. I am shifting us both so that I can kneel over her face. My legs are spread, and I grip her blonde hair, pressing her face against my sex. Her scream is muffled, and sounds again when I reach behind me to pinch one of her nipples.
"You will lick me now." I tell her in a commanding tone that brooks no argument. She doesn't immediately try, instead attempting to knock me off her. But my enhanced strength makes it no trouble to hold her against me, and it is not long before I feel the first tentative touch of her tongue between my legs. "More." I snap out. Such a weak touch does nothing for me. I want firm strokes, want her to be bold as she licks over my slit, her tongue thrusting furiously inside me. I want her tongue everywhere, especially on my clit. But the hesitant licking continues, the girl constantly pausing to sob.
"Harder!" I hiss. "If you want this to end anytime soon..." My threat goes unfinished, her tongue turning bold. Moving along the length of my soaked slit, though the way she uses her tongue tells of her inexperience with this act. "Better." I gruffly acknowledge. I shift just a little, her tongue continuing it's near frantic licking. I can tell she's going to suffocate before I'll reach my climax, and my anger and frustration mount by droves.
"Useless!" I snarl, and get off of her. She just lays there, her chest heaving as the slave takes in gasping lungfuls of air. She seems so focused on breathing that she doesn't take care to watch me. Perhaps she is that grateful to have me get off the bed. She shouldn't be. I've gone over to my dresser, to the drawer where I keep my toys. There is many, a veritable treasure trove of erotic odds and ends. I reach for what I want, a double ended dildo that is longer than my arm. It slides in easily inside me, I'm simply that wet.
The slave girl can't make that same claim. She hasn't enjoyed one minute inside my bedroom. But I won't hurt her in that way, taking care to pour a generous amount of lube all over the other end of the dildo. By this time the panting fool has recovered enough to sit up. Her eyes widened when she sees what I have. She now realizes she hasn't been spared of anything, that her torment has not ended.
Before she can do more than scream, I flip her onto her stomach. I grab at her hips, hauling her ass upwards. She's screaming, begging me to not do this. She simply hasn't learned that her pleas are useless. I position myself against her, guiding the lubed up end of the dildo against her sex. She screams louder at the feel of being penetrated, the dildo spreading her open slowly.
She is not a virgin. And yet she screams like one. It is a relief when she buries her face into the mattress, silencing the worst of her screams. I stare down at her, and realize from the back she could pass for Adora, the cut and color of her hair the same as my former lover. Grief pounds in my chest, followed by a surge of anger. I am rougher than I intended to be, suddenly thrusting forward. The girl tries to lurch forward, as though she can stop the dildo from invading her insides. My nails dig into her hips, holding her there, hauling her back towards me so that the end of the dildo inside me moves.
It is in this way that we both feel it, every forward thrust of mine generating friction inside the slave girl. The bucking of her body's attempt to get away, has the end of the dildo inside me moving in delightful ways. It's not long before I lose myself to the feel, gruffly moving my hips in a wild manner. The slave girl has stopped screaming, is not even crying. She has resigned herself to what is happening.
I bend over her, pressing my lips to the back of her shoulder. All I can focus on is the pleasure, and the color of her hair. With no screams to tell me otherwise, I lose myself to the fantasy that this is Adora beneath me. I begin moaning, calling out Adora's name again and again. I work my hips harder, almost frantic as I feel myself come close to a climax. It's building, and will not be denied, and for that moment I forget, and truly believe this is Adora I am fucking.
I scream out my climax, feeling things tighten inside me. My passage squeezes tighter around the dildo inside me, constricting rhythmically in the desire to milk something out of it. My hips have stopped moving, and I collapse. I'm still thinking it's Adora when I roll the girl towards me, intent on snuggling her close. When I see her tear streaked face, I freeze. It hits me in an instant. This is not Adora, and it's a painful realization.
I no longer have the desire to lay there basking in the bliss of my climax. My stomach is cramping, I think I might be ill. But more than that, I want to lash out. To hurt this girl for not being Adora. I actually slap her several times, before pulling back. I know hurting this girl won't change anything, won't bring back Adora to me. Maybe nothing will, but I can't give up on my dream. If I can't sway her to return to the Horde, to return to me, there are other ways to get what I want. Or at least a semblance of it. I want Adora that badly, that I'll settle for even just a part of her.
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To Be Continued.....
I uh...feel embarrased....kinda ashamed over the slave girl Catra part. *blushes*
-----Michelle
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The Ones Left Behind Catra Adora Fic