As Peter was exacting his disgusting vengeance, Kora was sidling up to Atherton senior Leona Cooper. Over the past few weeks, Leona had made a habit out of eye-fucking Kora, 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 would be.
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 to mate, they would grab that person’s 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, just like the men, 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 fostered a deep sense of self-worth and accomplishment. Some engaged in braggadocio, but it was simply for amusement, not for the sake of 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 couldn’t have cared less. 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 sizeable population of bandits that had once been men, but were now eunuchs. Kor’Thank perceived this as social equilibrium. If people wished 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 behaviors. Kora was blind to the intricacies of passing notes, group introductions, and the convoluted kissing games that served as introductory rites to Earthling intercourse. 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 timid smile.
“I wish to mate with you,” Kora stated. Saying it made her nervous, but her anxiety didn’t manifest as a stutter or a fidget. Instead, her speech became infused with the bash-em-in-the-head mentality she’d learned at the Forge.
Leona cocked her head. “Excuse me?”
“I wish to mate with you,” Kora repeated. “If you’re not interested, 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 go.
Leona sputtered, “No, that’s now what I…”
Kora stopped in her tracks.
“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.”
“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, their clothes puddled on the hardwood floor. Kora was being extra aggressive—squeezing, biting, pulling—and Leona was loving it.
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 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.
Kora donned a giant strap-on and clipped it securely around her waist. Its shaft was dotted with gleaming studs, while its end was tipped by a grinning demon’s head. “Stay still,” she repeated. 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 were rolled back in her sweat-slathered skull, was living proof of it.