As Peter was exacting his disgusting vengeance, Kora was sidling up to Blake’s girlfriend: Leona Cooper. Over the past few weeks, Leona had been eye-fucking Kora and accompanying it with a series of more-than-conspicuous gestures: hair flips, avoidance of gaze, followed by furtive glances to see what Kora’s reaction was.
The barbarian queen wasn’t familiar with Earthling mating rituals, so Leona’s signals only served to confound and frustrate her. Indashi shield maidens were extremely direct—when they wanted a mate, they would grab their genitals and ask them whether or not they wanted to fuck. Males were similar: they would approach a prospect and openly state their desire to copulate. Every so often, men would get pushy, but Indashi women were a ferocious bunch; they were well trained in striking and grappling.
The rugged upbringing worked both ways; men were exposed to adversity and challenge from an early age, which tended to foster a sense of self-worth and accomplishment. Some engaged in braggadocio, but it was simply for amusement, not because they needed personal validation. Their behavior never degenerated to the point where they felt compelled to rape another being—be it man, woman or animal.
Foreign males posed a threat, but Indashi women didn’t fear the idea of being raped. Some of them welcomed it. Every so often, an intrepid maiden would venture into strange lands with the express purpose of teaching would-be rapists a severe and permanent lesson in minding their manners. On Elithia, there existed a sizable population of bandits who had once been men, but were now eunuchs.
Kor’Thank’s straightforward mind perceived this as social equilibrium. If someone wanted to mate, they should openly and honestly state their intentions. Conversely, if anyone attempted to rape another, they should pay with their genitals.
Now, however, he (or she, to be precise) had been thrust into a complicated mess of coded behavior. Kora was blind to the intricacies of passing notes, group introductions, and the convoluted kissing games that served as introductions into Earthling mating rituals. She suspected Leona was interested in her, but she had to be sure.
“Hello.” She walked up to Leona, who was standing in front of her open locker.
“Oh…um, hi.” Leona flashed her a smile.
“I wish to mate with you,” Kora stated. Saying it made her nervous, but her anxiety didn’t manifest as a stutter or fidget; instead, her speech became infused the bash-em-in-the-head mentality she’d learned at the Forge.
Leona cocked her head. “Um, excuse me?”
“I wish to mate with you,” Kora repeated. “If you’re not interested, then I will satisfy myself with my middle and forefinger, or perhaps a sexual device. But self-pleasure is vastly underrated, so if you’re open to it…” She studied Leona’s bewildered expression, then shrugged in defeat. “My apologies—I have misread your intentions. Farewell, Leona of Clan Cooper.” She turned to leave.
Leona sputtered, “No, that’s now what I…”
Kora stopped in her tracks. She turned back around.
Leona asked, “What happened to you, Holly? Er, Kora, I mean. That’s what you like to be called now, isn’t it?” Leona waited for her nod, then continued speaking. “Ever since the dance, you’ve been acting all weird and so…so…”
“So alpha.” Leona bit her lip and looked down. Her cheeks turned an alarming shade of red.
Kora raised an eyebrow. “So you do wish to mate with me.”
“I…I mean…well, it’s not to say that…”
“It’s a yes or no question.”
“Follow me.” Kora began walking down the hall.
Leona watched her, contemplating what would happen if she didn’t show up for AP English. There was supposed to be a quiz, and she was straddling the line between a B and an A. If she wanted to nail that 94% average…
She closed her locker and followed Kora.
Five minutes later, they were making out beneath a set of bleachers. Kora was being aggressive—squeezing, biting, pulling—and Leona was loving it.
Their clothes lay puddled on the floor. Kora had set her iPhone to speaker mode so it could provide musical accompaniment to their moans and groans (during her brief stay on Earth, Kora had become a giant fan of Metallica). She smacked Leona’s ass, eliciting a pleased yelp, and pushed her head roughly down, forcing her to face away and bend over.
“Stay still,” Kora ordered roughly. She turned away and rummaged through her backpack, her fingers made clumsy by her lust-addled brain.
Leona bit her lip, quivering in anticipation.
A few seconds later, Kora had donned a giant strap-on. Its shaft was dotted with gleaming studs, while its end was tipped by a grinning demon’s head. “Stay still,” she repeated. Then she positioned the metal-as-fuck cock on Leona’s swollen vaj, and shoved it in.
“Oh…my…oh…KORA!” she managed. She began moaning and squealing as Kora started pumping.
“That’s not my name,” Kora snarled. She grabbed Leona’s hair, pulling her head sharply back. “Call me…KOR’THANK!”
Leona, completely lost in the throes of ecstasy, wasn’t turned off by the weird request. It actually served to enhance her orgasm (at this point, she was halfway into her third pussy-quaker). “Yes! Yes! Fuck me, Kor’Thank! I’M YOUR DIRTY LITTLE WHORE!”
Kor’Thank, thrusting manically along to Hetfield’s axe, couldn’t help but smile. Everything was better when you were doing it to metal.
Leona Cooper, whose eyes had rolled back in her sweat-slathered skull, was living proof of it.