A Novel Form of Conflict Resolution

"Not much to look at," the Commander muses, looking me up and down as her various pupils contract and dilate to let her look at me through different wavelengths of light. Her gaze keeps flitting down to my bulge as she does so, and it isn't long before she's openly staring at it. "Except where it counts, I see," she smiles, before a hand darts out and closes around my neck. My feet don't kick in the air or anything like that, since she's not gripping tightly enough to prevent me from speaking - instead, it seems like she's doing it because the only way to reach her target would be to bend down and she can't stomach lowering herself even in a purely literal sense.

"Let's see," she mutters, running a wickedly sharp-looking nail along the length of my bulge before gasping as my cock springs free from my now ruined pants. "Oh! Oh, that is more than acceptable," she sighs, running that same nail back up the length of my shaft with so little pressure I don't feel more than a slight tickling sensation, "and not even erect yet, my word..." She continues to stare at it as I feel acutely aware of just how close I am to a bust that somehow manages to match Lady Wakeford's for size and look entirely natural - no mean feat, considering that the other woman's chest had been straddling the line between obscene and absurd and this one's was clearly enormous even for her frame.

"Doubtless you have heard the dreadful rumours of what the Drahvin do to men that we take," she says idly, as if I'm being offered a cup of coffee and a cake rather than being molested by an alien genetic chimera, "but I assure you, you'll be treated very well. To breed with any Drahvin is among the highest honours a male can ever obtain - and to breed with one of my rank... well, I would say there are none higher." She tilts her head back up to look me in the eyes, and I smile as politely as I can. "Wh-Waht about the rumours that Drahvin normally test their captives' endurance in front of their subordinates?" With that, I finally slacken my self-restraint a bit and her eyes dart down as I get all the way hard.

She bites her lip, showing glimpse of razor-sharp teeth that her flesh somehow resists, then licks her lips. "My line has been of the highest caste for more than fifteen generations," she says in the flat, steady tone of someone putting enormous effort into controlling herself, "and this-" She spits on her free hand and begins jacking me off, the twenty-inch monster her desires have given me looking 'merely' oversized in her hand. "-is the finest specimen-" Her skin is impossibly soft, but there's a subtle hardness underneath it. Subdermal armour, maybe? "-of male usefulness-" I decide to humour her efforts and sling a rope of precum onto her uniform, but she wraps her palm over the head of my cock and then uses the resultant handful as lubrication. "-I have ever seen, recorded or real."

Suddenly, I'm thrown down into the chair she just vacated as she tugs a hidden seam on the front of her uniform open and lets it fall off of her. Before I can fully process the sheer... everything about her, from the size of her tits to the width of her hips and the definition of her muscles, she drops into a deep, open-legged squat in front of me and seizes the base of my now-slick cock in her still-slick hand. "I have bred with the best-endowed males available," she states in a matter-of-fact tone, "three were... uninspiring, five pleased me sufficiently that I could finish myself with only a few minutes' effort, two successfully brought me to climax before they were too exhausted to continue. I expect you to match at least the second category."

Oh, it's on now, I think, looking at her self-assured expression, it's on like a certain video game ape.

"Well," I crack my neck as she leans in and runs her tongue over the tip of my cock, "I like to think I know enough to match the third. For starters, I'm a damn sight more read-up on Drahvin biology than any of you outside of the scientist castes are." Her eyes flash - metaphorically - with anger, but her only response is to form an 'O' with those thick lips of hers and slowly start to engulf the head of my cock. Any normal human would be blowing his load from this, I think to myself as I feel the inside of a mouth literally engineered to suck cock when it's not being used to kill things. It's like her teeth don't even exist, just a ring of silky-soft slickness leading to a hot, wet cavern where her tongue can stroke and tease me to her heart's content. Then again, I correct myself as the tightness of her throat and the sensation of her swallowing my length manages to draw out the first involuntary moan I've made since getting my powers, any normal human would have just been shot.

"These horns, for example," I continue, pulling myself forward with my grip on the arms of the chair, "normally great for echolocation, electroreception, stabbing people... lots of things, really. Also normally paralysingly intense sources of pleasure when grabbed." With that, I lunge forwards and grip a horn in each hand as she gags slightly around my cock and seizes up with a soft moan. "Careful," I murmur, so low that I'm not sure even she can hear me, "normally, Drahvin commanders aren't supposed to let anyone know about their weaknesses." Satisfied that she isn't about to alert her subordinates to her situation, I release my grip and sink back down in the chair. "How about that," I say cheerily, "a male with the biggest cock you've ever seen, who knows just how to make you squirm and who helpfully alerts you to your weaknesses when you're safe on your own ship rather than where it might hurt you. Quite the prize, no?"

She's still visibly furious as she sucks, but it's clearly at least partially at herself for not studying her own deficiencies - she practically slams her mouth up and down my length, punishing her own throat with a length and girth that make her eyes water every time her lips touch my base. "Some can't be helped, of course," I say, clamping down hard on the moans she's very nearly wringing out of me, "after all, it's normal for large female assets - lips, tits, asses - to be more sensitive as they increase in volume. And normally, those assets get even more sensitive when they're big compared to the rest of the woman's frame." Spit is now starting to spill out past the almost perfect seal of her lips around my cock, running over my balls and staining the seat. She doesn't miss a beat though, her relatively quiet swallowing sounds being replaced with wet gulps and **** sounds as she seamlessly switches from a blowjob style that emphasises control to one that emphasises how much she enjoys slobbering on a big dick.

"And that olfactory system and those tastebuds, the ones you normally use to detect enemies's scents on the air? Sorry to say that the side effects aren't paranoia talking after discovering the last fact," I smirk, "it's normal for my taste and scent to drive you closer to orgasm with every breath and lick." We both moan in unison; her because I've just given her a jet of precum to wash down the latest revelation, me because being balls-deep in her throat when she moans is incredible. Still, all good things must come to an end. "You might want to pull off of me, or else you won't get my first load when I'm taking you from behind. That is how you normally like it, isn't it?" She pulls back slowly, sucking a much of her drool and throatslime off of my shaft as possible before swirling her tongue around my still-captive head a few times and releasing me with a wet POP and a soft gasp.

"I simply needed to determine your endurance," she lies smoothly, not at all bothered by the way we're distracting her subordinates, "a test of stamina, to see if you could last for even a single thrust of proper mating." She grabs my neck again - shame I'm not into being n the receiving end of that, really, or this'd be even more fun than it already is - and pulls me up out of the chair. "I see you already know of the correct procedure for mating with a superior being," she remarks with the barest hint of respect as she settles down on her hands and knees in front of me, before spreading her legs until her tight, dripping slit is at a height off the ground that I'll be able to go balls-deep into. "Now, prove to me that you know the correct procedu-AH!"

And balls-deep is exactly how I go in on the first thrust. Her size is working against her here - she's big enough that even the cock of her dreams only bulges her belly slightly with each thrust, but that size makes her more sensitive than she can hide - and it isn't long before she's moaning steadily as I hammer away at her. Not that I'm much better off; she's unbelievably tight around me, and as an Invasion Commander she's the very epitome of the Drahvin's sexual power as well as their ability in combat. She doesn't so much squeeze my cock as milk it, carefully-trained muscle groups working by instinct to perform rhythmic patterns of clenches and releases that are painstakingly devised to have any compatible male busting within the first minute - presumably, to really rub in Drahvin superiority. I'm not sure whether to be amused by the knowledge I suddenly-always-read unfolding in my mind or the notes of disbelief creeping into the Commander's moans as I push through the tenth minute without even a drop of precum to show for it.

"You-" She gasps in ecstacy as I interrupt her with her pussy's first gout of precum, then growls in frustration. "You," she grits out through her heavy panting and uncontrollable moans, "are quite the prize. High Command will- OH!" I shift my grip on her hips in preparation for my next 'helpful' bit of information and the slightly altered angle pushes buttons I don't think even she knew she had. "Oooooohhh... High Command will reward me greatly for bringing you to their attention. Such a fine specimen..." I hum in agreement - and to deny the satisfaction of hearing a moan as she squeezes me even harder. "I expect they would," I say in a slightly tense voice, "because, while every Drahvin normally likes to be on top, every Drahvin normally loves to get taken as roughly as they can handle."

The extra-long, extra-loud moan she releases at hearing that and feeling my hand come down to spank one enormous asscheek makes me glad I'm not nearly so beholden to my hormones anymore - because I don't think I could stop myself from blanking out in a haze of lust otherwise. "Such an astute observation," she purrs, now clearly giving up any semblance of controlling our pace, "so many males think we need to be atop them to wring them dry, but..." The rippling muscles of her walls almost feel like an afterthought now, compared to the frantic energy they had before. "...it is so much more satisfying to present ourselves and use their urges to control them instead." If it weren't for the pressure building in my balls, I might have some sort of horrible epiphany about the unintended changes the world makes to accommodate my seemingly contradictory truths of the Drahvins' conquering prowess and their love of letting others control the pace of their fucking.

But I don't, because all my brain can process while I'm hilted in the Commander's cunt is 'ultimate power-bottoms = awesome'. I slam another spank down on each massive, muscular globe in front of me as they clap against my hips and abdomen, then let what feels like a few pints of spunk paint her insides white. Her only response is to grin lazily and roll her hips, but unfortunately for her I'm in the throes of post-nut clarity and - unlike with her previous victims - it'll last for long enough that I can actually use it. "You know," I pant, "I was lying before." She makes a questioning noise, but seems content to humour me. "That 'hair', all those super-fine, super-durable, super-sensitive antennae you normally use to read air currents, well..." I lean forwards and grab a fistful of them in each hand. "Normally, when someone gives them a nice hard pull..." I can picture her eyes widening and her muscles tensing, but it's too late. "...you cum ourselves silly."

Then I yank on my improvised reins, and she screams. Her back arches as I pull her head up and back, pushing her ass back towards me as I redouble my pace. "You didn't expect a male to know this, did you," I hiss at her, confident that she can hear me - if not comprehend me right now. "Well, too bad, because I know something else too," my voice rises in volume enough that I can finally hear myself over the sound of her orgasmic shrieks as her cunt goes haywire around my cock, "I know that when a male makes a Drahvin cum this hard, for this long, she and all her subordinates normally get nice and submissive to him - nice and loyal." I pump another few heavy ropes of jizz into her spasming pussy - enough that it starts to leak out around me, then release her 'hair' and pull out of her with an obscene slurping sound.

"You two," I snap my fingers at a pair of guards, two of many Drahvin staring in shock at their Commander's current state, "get over hear and suck my cum out of her cunt - and make sure to put on a show of swapping each mouthful back and forth before you swallow." They rush to obey, and I breathe a slight sigh of relief that that actually worked. I step around to the Commander's front as her guards - mine now, I suppose - get to work. She looks up at me and opens her mouth into a perfect 'O', sticking her tongue out like a red carpet. I oblige her and feed her the full length of my cock, and she gets to work cleaning off my cum and her juices as I run a hand through her 'hair'.

"Now," I tell her, "you brought quite a few males and female breeders with you, didn't you?" She hums 'yes'. "All second generation or later?" 'Yes' again. "Really," I ask, "no captured ones at all?" She makes a negative noise. Great, I think to myself, that makes things so much easier. "Good," I tell her, "now, normally Drahvin High Command doesn't check up on conquest fleets unless they get the signal that they've been destroyed, right?" She moans around me, and I reward her with a brief tug of her 'hair' that makes her quiver. "Wonderful. Now, this invasion is cancelled," I tell her, continuing on before she can give me more than a questioning look, "but there's a nice, empty planet sunward of the target, just perfect for the terraforming gear I know you normally carry to turn into a lovely new home." She moans again in understanding. "Of course," I muse, "that would mean letting the males free..." I look for any sign of a negative reaction, but there is none. "...after all, you can hardly settle a new planet with just worker caste - you need a proper population!

"So," I say sternly, "when you're read to land, the males are going to be free to live and fuck you all to their hearts' content; understood? And the female breeders are also to be released." She moans happily, eyes already glazing over with lust at the thought of not having her breeding sessions dictated by the High Command. "Great," I tell her, "but no restricting male offspring or cloning up new worker drones - you'll be a proper settled population, which means keeping your numbers up the old-fashioned way." I pull out of her with a wet slurping sound and she slurs out what might be a 'yes, Sir', so I let off a few more ropes of cum that splatter all over her face and the tops of her breasts. "Wear that while you're giving the other ships their new orders," I say, turning to leave, "they normally do what you tell them, after all."

It doesn't take long to find the Doctor, strapped to a large metal X-shaped frame with a vibrator so powerful it's making my teeth buzz just being in the same room pressed to each nipple and a third up against her pussy. She groans in boredom at what she must think is a new shift of interrogators, then perks up when she sees me. "John! You're alright," she smiles, then she looks down at my still-exposed cock and a trickle of drool escapes from the corner of her mouth. "Sorry," she says unconvincingly as she licks it up, "getting a little numb from being tied up here. I felt us change course though; what happened?"

"Funny story, that," I reply, "turns out that absurdly rigid hierarchies don't hold up well against someone who knows where to poke them..."

"...and she was even willing to let the breeding stock go," I finish my explanation on how I subverted the Invasion Commander and redirected the fleet to terraform and settle a dead world instead, "they're remarkably easy to convince, if you can prove they ought to listen." There's an awkward pause before a horrible thought occurs to me. "Venus is, y'know... dead, right?"

The Doctor slips out of her restraints with an ease that tells me they were never doing much to stop her to begin with and smiles brightly. "Oh, yeah," she confirms, to my endless relief, "dead as a doornail - total biosphere collapse, terraforming's the only option." Her smile turns devious and she traces a finger along the length of my cock. "Charging into a hostile alien ship to save a planet, then finding a way to divert the invaders, free their slaves and settle a dead world..." She licks her lips. "You know," she muses, "I was already starting to like you, but now I'm really st-"

SMACK! SMACK!

Her hands suddenly fly to the bright read handprints I've left on each asscheek, rubbing them as her mouth opens and closes in outrage. "You... You... You just..."

"Sorry Doctor," I say breezily, "but you did tell me to." She pouts, clearly remembering the rules she laid down just before our trip to Wakeford Manor. "Shall we get going? You also promised me somewhere nice and safe to visit, after all."

"Yes, I did," she sighs in defeat, "let's get going then, I need to blow off some steam on-stage after that sorry excuse for an interrogation."