Point of No Return 3 – The Rape of a Heroine

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Hyperlinks in the text are intended as supplemental material, discussing elements of the science behind the science fiction. They are not intended as required reading for the story. Hyperlinks will be provided at the point in the story where it comes up, but all the links will also be collected at the bottom of the post for easy reading.


Dr. Anna Constantos cast worried glances towards the rows of hibernation tubes that lined the corridor.

One of those egg-shaped devices had an unarmored lizard-alien pacing back-and-forth before it, snarling and growling like an irate beast. Occasionally, he rapped the enormous… whatever it was… he carried against its sides in frustration, eyeing the slender feminine form within the frost. It was hard for Anna to think of the bloodstained weapon as anything but a massive meat cleaver.  Ever since that alien had spotted the opaque outlines of the female colonists sleeping within the confines of the pods, he had been pacing around them obsessively, displaying a level of single-minded fixation for her that was most peculiar for a species advanced enough to have achieved space-flight. Anna had studied its mannerisms with a strange mix of both scientific fascination and an immense dread for what he would do. She knew that she shouldn’t be worried. Pretty extreme measures were required to crack one open and kill the colonist inside, and the space-dragons didn’t seem willing to go that far… but as the Medical Officer in charge of their safety, she couldn’t help but feel concern.

A hissing, growling sentence. A moment later the words came in English through the translator. “Eyes on the floor!” the Kthid watching over them yelled, delivering a savage kick to Anna’s stomach.

The black-haired woman winced in pain and sheltered her gut, unused to such brutish physical aggression. She currently knelt huddled alongside a dozen other cowering human captives. The xenos had stormed the Midgar-6, seizing it with a mixture of ferocious savagery and superior force of arms. Only about half the crew had made it out alive alongside the Captain. She and the rest were now prisoners of these mysterious and fiendish-looking aliens. Anna couldn’t help but notice, however, that there were no male crewmen in the group… she hadn’t seen one since being captured. Her nerves tightened in apprehension as she wondered what fate could have befallen them.

These beings called themselves the Kthid. Translation-devices that she would have envied in another context were embedded in their armor or on jewelry they wore, allowing even the most-low ranking of the footsoldiers to speak to their captives. Requesting any more information than that was answered by the fist or the growl. Whatever intelligent lifeforms humanity had expected to find out among the stars, these were not it. They seemed more like a horde of Medieval barbarians than a high-minded species capable of astronavigation, much less being self-evidently better at it than her own kind was. Many were engaged in wholesale plunder of the colony ship, though they did not seem to find much loot that was to their pleasure… unsurprising, given how spartan the accommodations were on even this vast ship to make room for all the colonists. The rest of her fellow prisoners seemed just overwhelmed, but Anna was a scientist before she was a soldier or an astronaut, and the aliens posed a strange, intellectual quandry to her. How did a race so seemingly primitive and warlike in thinking manage to eclipse their own technology? Were they mere drones for some diabolical mastermind? Surely, this couldn’t be all there was to them…

At least, she hoped not. Anna gulped, suddenly wondering if she was about to end up inside one of their stomachs. With their fang-like teeth, these aliens seemed distinctly carnivorous… and she doubted they possessed anything resembling a Geneva Convention. Even terrified of that grisly fate however, she couldn’t bring herself to regret not trying to escape with the others… it would have never have been on the table for her. Overseeing the safety of these colonists while they remained within their pods was her oath-bound duty. There were a million people on this ship, and she couldn’t abandon them, no matter what.

While they huddled close, the sound of a incoming patrol was discernible down the corridor. She could easily hear it coming since it was led by those iron-armored behemoths whose stomping produced such prodigious booms. Emerging into view, she saw that it was a group of jailers leading a band of ranked officers deeper into the vessel. A bruised and limping Ki’ani’i was among them, her green-skinned body dotted with dark bruises and dozens of cuts. The Security Officer really struggled to hold onto her monk-like focus as she limped, appearing to all the world like she had just tried wrestling with tiger, or possibly a Void Tracer.

As they passed, the last Kthid in the party turned his helmeted head downward so to look at Anna. He paused and his eyes widened in the apparently-near-unniversal sign of surprise, as if he had just noticed something he didn’t expect. Then the warrior turned towards the unarmored dragon-creature guarding them and barked something vicious in his own language that wasn’t translated. The lesser Kthid began hurriedly speaking back but was quickly silenced by a savage backhand from the warrior. Without hesitation, the steel-clad alien grasped the doctor’s shoulder and forced the lithe-figured woman back onto her feet. She was made to trudge alongside the gang.

Even as she walked, she understood. It was the insignia on her uniform that he had noticed. All the people marching in this column were officers.

***

Ki’ani’i and Anna were brought to the heart of the Midgar-6’s crew section, its main security hub. A gigantic mainframe dominated the room, towering like a mini-skyscraper towards the ceiling, or perhaps more like some ancient and arcane monument, its frame pierced by numerous electrical cords. It was here, in this more secure room on the ship, that the hibernation pods were ultimately managed. The apparatus hummed lightly as it worked, undisturbed by the fighting that had taken place in its surroundings. At its base lay a simple keyboard to input the deactivation-password. Solely from here could the cryosleep be disengaged… hence such an enormous and sturdy machine, filled with backups and redundancies being used for the task, in order to prevent any damage during a catastrophe, sabotage, or other unthinkable event.

The half-moon chamber was fairly crowded… while there weren’t a ton of crew on board compared to the colonists, that still amounted to plenty of officers to oversee them. Every hostage of notable rank that the Kthid had claimed had been brought here for some reason, it seemed. As such, many of the armored dragons were also present, watching over them with their double-barreled guns. The all-female crew of prisoners was in a universally woeful mood, crestfallen over the unexpected downing and defeat of the ship. This morning they didn’t even know that hostile aliens existed in the galaxy… and now they were seemingly reenacting scenes from the worst parts of the 21st-century. Her own team was forced to kneel down by some consoles and wait with no comfort or amenity. Anna was at the complete mercy of these horrific enemies. Like some post-battle captive during a bronze-aged conflict awaiting her execution.

After about an hour spent in silence, the double-doors slid open and the single largest Kthid she had yet seen strode in. Every alien soldier in the room tensed and struck his fist against his breast-plate. Constantos recognized a salute to a leader when she saw one. This unarmored beast was undoubtedly the alien captain… even without such an ostentatious gesture from his subordinate she was sure she would have been able to intuit that fact. This Kthid was different from the rest. There was an air of natural toughness about him, the hue of his scales darker and more elegant than the others. The warlike decorations he did wear were ornate and covered with grandiose-looking engravings, and he was half a head taller than the next largest of the soldiers. Just from his appearance alone, one could somehow tell that he was more authoritative than the rest.

Without stopping, that alien Captain threaded right up before the tremendous super-computer. First he gazed at its tremendous bulk, then down at that simple keyboard. He seemed like a man who had reached the end of his plan, now caught in the middle of some thought. Shifting his gaze, he instead looked up towards a couple of vast wall-mounted monitors that hung across the chamber. These essentially shifted through real-time footage from security-cameras that were constantly overlooking those pods. His small, sunken pupils plainly turned covetous as he beheld the darkened shapes of those sleeping women.

Anna felt herself gripped by an icy gale in her veins. Not only did the Kthid leader seem to display the same untoward interest as his trooper had for those colonists, but he also seemed to understand the function of the machine he was looking at and how it was connected. How could that be? Surely any technological race capable of spaceflight would understand their technology, but to bring them directly to the very computer controlling the subject of his interest? It spoke of knowledge she would rather he not have, for certain… Yet despite this alarmingly amount of foreknowledge that he seemed to have for their procedures and technology, the space-dragon evidently possessed no know-how in how to unlock its function.

As he stood alone before the console, a smaller, broad-shouldered, unhelmeted Kthid stepped up to his side. This lizard’s snouted mouth looked especially unsavory as he leered triumphantly, striking fist against his breastplate so to seize the leader’s attention.

“Kangansverii Ocvar. What is it?” that high-commander asked. To her surprise, the translators captured and echoed the words… he clearly didn’t care if his captives heard.

“My Lord Sarcand, I’ve managed to find a human that I think may be able to help us in cracking this Terran apparatus,” he said, voice more sibilant than the Captain’s deep and masculine tone.

The double-doors opened. A few Kthid entered while surrounding some human captive. Every female Earthling carefully leaned upwards and looked to see whom they were bringing in. It was a bald-headed, scruffy-looking male that almost no-one knew by name. He wore the uniform of an undistinguished engineering ensign. Yet it was his cadence more than his raiment that birthed source for acute concern. Somehow, it looked like he was in his element, smiling a twisted expression despite the weapons held against him. He held the look of a natural sycophant trying to win favor.

However, what worried Anna the most was why this engineer was alive whilst every other male on the crew had seemingly been killed on the spot. Sarcand apparently harbored similar curiosities of his own. He glared down at his underling with narrowed eyes of misgiving, unwilling to even look upon the male, the already reserved mood not improved at all.

“When we took the ship,” Ocvar was quick to explain, “he aided us by sealing off a pathway just as a group of Terrans were about to escape through it into the cargo-docks.  Because of this, we were able to capture ten more females that would otherwise escaped the vessel.”

“None of them have escaped,” Sarcand growled, his voice full of certainty.

“As you say, my lord,” Ocvar did not exactly disagree. “Seeing this auspicious action, I elected to spare him immediate death to question him. The human has since told me many valuable things regarding this vessel and its quest.”

A shockwave of alarm and horror went through the gathered female Officers when they heard this treachery. Next to Anna, Ki’an’i’s face grew rigid and hard as any the doctor had ever seen. The Sethis attempted to rise with fists clenched before Constantos quickly stopped her. She was momentarily stunned that the Templar could lose her temper so. Treachery was deeply upsetting, of course, but… her reaction seemed strong for all her practiced serenity.

“What is its name?” the captain asked, eyes still hard as crimson pebbles.

“Thomas Shale!” the man yelled aloud before Ocvar could reply, “And I hate these bitches as much as you do! Noticing that you were collecting them for sport, I couldn’t help but assist! These whores have undue high opinions of themselves. Real mouthy bitches! But like all women, they’re actually only good for satisfying what’s between your legs!” he jeered, giving off a chuckle and a shit-eating grin.

Though he turned away, Sarcand’s lips tugged upwards into a smirk. Something about the man’s rampant misogyny had seemingly entertained the alien Captain… As if he had just heard some primitive yet funny joke.

“Tell the Huntmaster what you told me about the cryosleep-tubes,” Ocvar sneered.

“If you try to force them open, you’ll kill the person inside-” Thomas began.

“We know that,” Sarcand growled underneath his breath, his back still turned.

“So the only place that you can deactivate their hibernation is from here. To ensure their safety, they can only decanted when the four primary officers of the ship agree it is safe to do so… each has their own password. The Captain, an old bitch called Atalanta that’s the ship’s Exalted AI, the chief Security Officer, and the chief Medical Officer,” Shale explained.

“Bastard,” Ki’ani’i hissed quietly with pure venom.

Anna couldn’t agree more. By revealing that, he had just sold the whole ship down the river. They were sworn to protect these colonists and see them ferried to safety. Yet that solemn oath this low-ranked Ensign had just spat on with an almost effusive and casual regard. By the idealistic standards of their century, it was incredibly galling to see a turncoat and race-traitor so eagerly betray everything that the Federation stood for. He lacked any tenor of moral fiber at all. How could such a man even have made it onto the ship? This disclosure was especially unsettling for her and Ki’ani’i… since they were two of those password-carrying officers that he had just mentioned!

The reveal of their identities were inevitable. Butterflies of trepidation overtook Constantos stomach… Yet a more deeper and mysterious issue still troubled the scientist’s intellect. None of this explained why the aliens were so eager to gain more live captives. What use could there be of human bodies? Her previous fears that it was food seemed whole unfounded, as they wouldn’t need them alive for that.

The leader seemed appeased by the information that Thomas had given. Walking around the computer, he apparently considered his position. “The Captain, the one the humans called Amara, made it out onto the Space-Hulk. A strike-team needs to hunt down her and her allies. The AI is embedded in the ship itself. That leaves the other two. Now where to find them…”

“Ha!” Shale burst out, overjoyed as if playing a winning hand. “Why, nothing could please me more than to help you out with that, too,” he exclaimed, pointing right at where Anna and the Sethis knelt. “It’s those two whores are over there! The dark haired angel and that angry-looking swampie bitch! They’re the two you want!”

The medic’s chest lit up with heat as if struck by lightning. Every Kthid in the vicinity turned their way. The soldiers nearest to her quickly grasped them both with forceful intentions, hustling the pair towards the center of the room. Standing small before those towering space-dragons, they were placed under the serpentine gaze of Sarcand.

“Hmhmhm,” he snickered lightly. “So these are the race known as the Sethis? Are they all so mad as this one?” he said, commenting on the livid anger dominating Ki’an’i’s expression. The Security Officer’s wrath was more focused towards Shale than the alien though. Even while glaring daggers of enmity at him, the man wouldn’t cease grinning. After having considered the green-skinned woman, Sarcand’s gaze instead turned towards Anna. Having been inflamed with worry, she now grew cold like a glacier. Just being beheld by that warlike specimen felt like a threat of imminent violence. It was as if her entire body was exposed to him to do with whatever he wanted. Yet… the caiman creature seemed to dismiss her almost instantly. He could tell that she was not a warrior like Ki’ani’i was.

He could tell that she would break quickly.

Anna swallowed the terror within her. This was the only way she would ever know. Steadying her vocal-cords, she asked, “Why are you doing this?”

The candor of her question seemed to have caught even the behemoths off-guard. They stared at her, first surprised, then amused, in that special sadistic way that only a predator could express amusement. Raising his V-shaped snout, Sarcand spoke the answer. “Cattle. Slaves. Breeding-stock.”

Constantos was taken aback… she had not expected a reply so simple or direct, and certainly not the answer she had gotten. Her first instincts told her that it had to be some kind of translation error. Why would a space-faring race need slaves to begin with? And did he say… breeding-stock? That was a biological impossibility. What meaning could have been lost in the cultural exchange of such a word? Before she was given the opportunity to every try and ask the Kthid continued, shouting louder to address the room. “It is time for you humans to meet someone that you all know of!” he yelled, pushing a button on his forearm so to issue some summon. “Her fate will make you understand what your destiny you have been sentenced to… and why it’s useless to resist the power of the Kthid or the glory of the Dark Star!”

He spoke like rabid animal on a ravenous rampage, his voice a furious roar. Everyone tensed in anticipation at what he was going to show… but still no one expected what came when the rooms doors slid open to let a beautiful human woman walk through. The appearance of a lone, undressed, flame-haired woman made all of their expressions gape and go wide-eyed with dumbstruck horror. A woman famous enough in her lifetime that she had won Federation-wide fame and admiration. A woman that everyone knew was dead. Not one officer failed to recognize Miranda on sight, such was her legend… and just as Amara and her crew of escapees had reacted with overwhelming awe at seeing Miranda appear in the naked flesh next to these monstrous aliens, so did the officers of the hibernation-chamber. None of them could believe it. Miranda was not only alive… but also a tamed slave of the Kthid.

“I want you to take a good look at her!” Sarcand announced, grasping the renowned beauty’s hair as soon as she was within arm’s reach. He yanked on it viciously so that her chin was forced to be held high, dark skin gleaming in the reflected light from the supercomputer. Standing behind her possessively, he slowly turned her body in a circle, allowing Miranda’s piercing gaze to meet the eyes of every captive who knelt alongside the rim of the room. Their expressions all sank into deeper levels of despair as the closer look assure them that it was, in fact, her. As Miranda Black finished her rotation, the eyes whom she stared into last were Anna’s, and the doctor was more unnerved than she had ever been before in her entire life. One detail in particular had managed to pierce her very soul – how those green orbs managed to be so unremittingly fierce and spirited… yet also hollow and  broken at the same time. It didn’t seem possible. She could tell that Miranda was looking right through her and reading her every thought and emotion at this juncture.

It was too much. She looked away, fighting back tears.

“Tell them how you were captured, slave,” he demanded, still clutching the mane tightly as any leash.

“I was exploring this sector when my ship was intercepted and shot down by Sarcand’s forces. I made landfall on a volcanic moon where he hunted me down personally, fought me in an one-on-one duel amid the flowing lava… and won,” she said, voice seemingly devoid of shame.

“And then what?” he pressed.

“And then… he broke me,” she said softly. “Using nothing more complex than his Kthid manhood and his strength, he broke me like a prize stud breaks a bitch.” Miranda spoke less like a woman and more like a trained puppet… her mouth was moving, but someone else’s words were coming out of her mouth… probably Sarcand’s, saying precisely what he wanted to hear. “I — who was a heroine among my species and was regaled with august laurels — was forced to kneel before his feet and beg to be made into his property.”

Sarcard moved one sharp claw over her throat, running up and down the vulnerable patch of skin. Miranda didn’t even flinch. “And after that?” he murmured.

“Afterward, he fucked me as much as it pleased him to do. Every time he has filled my womb, I’ve begged for him to do so. I am now among his Heitera, and his favorite breeding-slave, so I grace my Master’s sleeping-quarters nightly. He asked what I had found on my expedition… and I told him that the Federation would be sending a colony ship to the world that bears my name, using the Lilis points I established.” She looked down briefly before she looked up, meeting their eyes again. “I told him this, because Master Sarcand wished me to.”

“Ahh… those were robust and exciting days,” he wheezed lightly, as if recalling fond memories. The space-dragon’s rough-hued hands began lecherously exploring her body, squeezing wantonly at her fully-orbed breasts and rear. The long-lost astronaut had spoken with an amazing earnestness and conviction as she retold the tale. None inside the room was spared of the destructively traumatic tale of that had transpired between them when Black had been unwillingly made into his bedmate.

Every human expression was utterly aghast… except for that of Thomas Shale. His visage was on the complete opposite of the emotional spectrum, laughing in sheer joy, eyes peering transfixed as if he had just heard something even better than his wildest dreams. “Well I’ll be damned,” he spiritedly injected. “If I die today, at least I lived to see this. Miranda Black, the biggest bitch in the galaxy, broken like that!? Men used to look away in fear whenever she just glowered at them with those stone-cold eyes of hers! Now she’s just another three-holed cumdump.”

The Kthid’s debauched pawing at his slave’s body suddenly turned even more lewd and extravagant. While playing with both of her ample tits, he simultaneously reached for Miranda’s unveiled groin with the other arm, sticking a single finger into that shaved quim right in front of them. The gorgeous woman grimaced slightly yet did nothing to resist him, placing arms to the sides as if she were restrained though nothing bound her arms but her own submission, and she kept her thighs accessibly parted. She was so cowed that she wouldn’t even defend herself from being fingered in public, and Sarcand happily took advantage of the situation.

That thick green digit pumped inquisitively, digging in-and-out of her unprotected womanhood like some piston. It was clear that Sarcand wasn’t going to stop escalating no matter what. Horrified, both Anna and Ki’ani’i took tentative steps backward until the surrounding ring of steel-clad warriors prevented them from escaping any further. Watching that taloned finger go into her, the black-haired scientist felt herself sinking into an emotional daze that prevented any analytical thought. Though she had never known the heroine personally, women like Miranda were considered paragons of the Federation. They were the ones society put on pedestals and honored as idols, their faces gracing billboards, signboards and recruitment-posters. Seeing her in the slutty habiliments of a common pleasure-slave and used like one without struggle was… crushing.

Then the woman’s heavenly lips parted and she let out the most shameful of sounds. Miranda moaned, captured in the deeply-buried rhythm of his finger’s strokes, totally capitulating to the unwilling pleasure forced out of her. It was the worst noise that the already disheartened Officers of the Midgar-6 could hear. Having reached his goal, the alien warlord abruptly ceased fingering her and instead threw Miranda to the floor like a piece of trash.

“During my pet’s training,” he began boisterously. “before she was broken, the slave spat at me and claimed that the Kthid would never be able to conquer Earth. In return, I promised that not only would I crush her wild spirits underneath my feet, but I would also fuck her like a slave onboard the first Terran ship that I conquered before all of its gathered officers. Miranda has been through a lot since that day and I think the threat has lost most of its weight… but I’ll not break my word.”

Sarcand opened up a pouch hanging from his belt, pulling out a slim chain. This he attached to the collar snugly encircling the heroine’s throat, forming a leash between them. As soon as he did, she dutifully raised her well-shaped posterior into the air, keeping her face against the ground and her bright red hair fanned out across the floor. Arching her spine as much as possible, she accentuated that luscious ass for his viewing pleasure. Miranda was presented as some lewd sex-object as her Master had decided to make this as humiliating as possible.

Pushing a button on his belt, the loincloth-like cover of his groin shimmered, the cloth seeming to unravel in place… and out flopped an enormous, green-scaled cock. Its beefy flesh as rough-hued and scaly as the rest of his skin, it sported the thickness of one of Anna’s arms. The startled crew were filled with sudden terror as they were shoved out of the horrified trance Miranda’s speech had brought upon them by this even more horrific reality. The fact was that for the last several hundred years humanity had been primarily matriarchal, since the sharp growth of the importance of space flight, and largely idealistic. None of them had been familiar with a sexual assault even during conflicts… it was centuries from it seeming a reality. Now, each of them was staring at the worst fear a woman could encounter.

That draconic dick stiffened from excitement alone as he took in their horror, appearing even more fearsome as it jutted headlong and rigid from his crotch. Squatting behind Miranda’s widely spread legs, the monster’s prodigious penis lined up with her badly undersized slit. His free hand seized her well-curved hip for extra control. Everyone waited with bated breath and horrified eyes, watching with dreadful anticipation. That massive Kthid manhood simply seemed too big for a human woman to mate with. If that organ attempted to fit, Anna felt sure he would tear her open and kill her. He certainly didn’t seem to think so, however… or at least, he didn’t care. Doom seemed near as that bell-shaped end and the velvety slit touched, sinking in lightly so to establish a beachhead. “I shall never cease to find enjoyment in this cunt!” he said while yanking on the chain until it was taut, making Miranda grunt. “She has a perfect ass to be slammed. My cock twitches just knowing it’s going to plunge inside her clam!”

Without further ceremony, Sarcand lurched his pelvis forward, athletically smashing their bodies together as one with a clamorous thud. Many in the crowd yelped and screamed at this forceful impalement, including Miranda herself who reacted to the penetration as if being lanced. Amazingly, his colossal dick had managed to slot itself fully into her petite fuck-tunnel. Even as both victim and observer screamed, Sarcand reacted only with pleasure, his posture growing rigid and his slitted eyes narrowing with bliss. He did not allow the importance of the occasion to stunt his progress, either. Locked into a position of dominance, the larger alien started rutting with his hips, moving his waist with abandon and buffeting Miranda’s at a furious tempo as he pounded in and out of her. Within seconds of traumatic insertion, his heavy dick had started sawing into her vulva, delivering devastatingly powerful strokes that made her rigorously honed ass ripple from the impacts like the surface of a pond. The thunder of his thrusts also rippled through her entire downed figure, ending by enforcing a raw and agony-born scowl upon her gorgeous visage.

“Aowh! Oh-my-God-Master-you-are-so-deep!” Miranda all but howled, her eyes pain-slitted and half mad. The words had the sound of a well practiced claim, choked out so quickly that it came in a single outward gasp. The wild raucous of the not-exactly-rape continued in front of the audience. Watching those striking figures, Anna placed her palm over her mouth so as not to scream, her pupils sinking into deep pits of fear. Her fellow officers roundly mirrored her reactions of absolute horror. As a doctor, she might rationally understand how a woman could survive this, but the knowledge of her head simply could not square with the violent assault she was watching, the unremitting, bludgeoning abuse being inflicted upon Miranda’s sex. That rod was simply gargantuan, and even imagining what it would feel like to be split apart by such a brutal pummeling made tears spring from her eyes.

It would break Anna in half. Copulation like this shouldn’t be happening. The rape was both sick and unnatural… everything about the bejewelled sex-slave’s state supported this opinion. The Kthid-Terran intercourse was simply something beyond what any Earthling woman should be biologically able to handle, and yet… it did. As Sarcand pounded her with a level of vigor vastly superior to anything that a human male could be able to muster, those numerous ornamentations decorating Miranda’s figure jingled and clinked delightfully together from the force of being slammed from behind. The light metal rattle created an incongruously chiming sound which contrasted starkly with the meaty thumping of bodies colliding at high speeds and her womanly screams.

“Aaahha!” he growled. “This is the bliss of the Heiteras! Let no one say that any other woman could bring you to true paradise!” the xeno Warleader declared to his fellow soldiers, shouting aloud while plowing his victim.

Miranda’s head was twisted Anna’s way, pushed against the floor, her soft cheek laying flattened against the harsh steel deck. From this angle, they could retain full eye-to-eye contact. The young doctor was allowed to see fully how the torment was absolutely wrecking the heroine… but even while observing her pained grimace, she could also see an almost insane and zealous attentiveness within the redhead’s verdant eyes. Those shining orbs stayed alert and mindful even while her pussy was being rapaciously vandalized… exerting all of her intellect and self-control even while being fucked.

With a shock, Constantos realized what it signified. That far-famed heroine wasn’t merely allowing herself to suffer through this rapine. She was actively forcing herself to feel it all… trying to condition her body and mind to see that punishing, ruining cock as an instrument of pleasure rather than one of pain. Just from the gleam of her eyes, it was evident that this took an almost crazed amount of willpower to achieve, but she was doing it anyway. Why? Why would she do that? The phenomenon hinted at some background so dreadful that the Medical Officer didn’t want to believe it could be true.

Sarcand yanked on his taut leash, the chokehold forcing Miranda to rise from her prone position. She instead went up on all fours like a proper dog, standing posted as the Kthid kept plowing into her cunt from behind. That collar kept her in a vision of submission as he had his way with her. “What happened to you?” the draconic alien asked. “You went from promising that we would never conquer Earth, to being fucked in front of an entire core of officers. Aren’t you supposed to be a heroine to these people? A paragon to symbolize their strength and determination!? I know your body more thoroughly than I do any of my other slaves, Heitera. Are you about to cum before your Master does, slut?”

Miranda’s outcries reached an ever-higher pitch of intensity from the announcement, and it was clear to anyone listening that there was more than mere pain in those cries now. Red-faced, her countenance took on the strained contortions of an animal. This was her body’s way of confirming everything that he had spoken. This rough churning of her slit was taking her towards an unseemly and shameful orgasm. Her screaming took on unmistakable intonations of harsh pleasure that were still tinged with agony, though these outcries were more like caterwauling and yowling than anything which would normally resemble sweet feminine moaning.

Though raped in public before the very people she was supposed to lead, the heroine did nothing to prevent that orgasm from happening. Her willpower to protect the Federation was completely gone. For many of the onlookers, this was their breaking point. Uniformed officers turned bleary-eyed and shed tears of sadness for their fallen luminary, those glistening drops plummeting down their fair cheeks. Her supposed, long premature death had been a tragic fate, yet one they could conceptualize. This wasn’t. The very symbol of their civilization was broken, made into an alien pleasure-slave.

It was an unthinkable end.

Many attempted to turn their faces away from the ignoble carnage going on in the security room, but those thickly-armored Kthid warriors made sure that everyone returned their crestfallen gazes to the torrid action. The only one who grinned was Thomas Shale. He was seeing a vision of the Federations much-desired, topmost females that he had wanted to see for a long time.

Like an unflappable mountain of masculinity, Sarcand kept hammering. Despite the extreme pleasure wrecking him as well, however, the alien monster still had the presence of mind to boisterously taunt her further. “Are you this pathetic, slave? Doesn’t the honor of your species mean anything to you? Don’t you want to save Earth!? You’re not going to stop me as I fuck and enslave your entire race!?”

“F-Fuck humanity!” she screamed, eyes bulging outward and going bloodshot. “Exterminate us! Pour your fucking seed inside my womb! Have us fucking genocided for the glory of the Kthid race! Gaaahh! I want the whole of Earth to be turned into a fucking breeding nest for the casteless and unclean!”

Her loud profanities caused many Kthid to holler and laugh underneath their helms. For Anna, the specifics of what she said seem to be lost in translation, but she was horrifically aware of the spirit, and it made her weep. Most excited of all seemed to be Sarcand, though. The alien Captain’s snouted visage turned fiendish as if harboring devilish ideas. “Even now you are such an intense fuck, Heitera. I wish the younger and freer you could see you now! Watching her haughty self having been grounded into dust!” he brusquely jeered while pumping. “You are going to get the slew of Kthid sperm of which you so beg! But I won’t be sullying your womb like I have so many times before.”

With a seamless abruptness and speed, that scale-covered mountain of muscle suddenly shifted his target mid-stroke. Instead of going for her vaginal-lips, he bashed against her defenceless anus. That dexterous switch in target caught everyone off-guard, including Miranda. “Just because it pleases me to see you disgraced before your erstwhile comrades, you’re going to getting this warm contingent up your asshole instead of your cunt!” People screamed and yelled as if they had just seen a genuine murder, for just as that colossal dick had made its way into the explorer’s pussy in one go, so did it rampage straight into her asshole. The only logical conclusion seemed for the redhead’s lower body to be gruesomely ruptured… Yet though her snug anal-ring widened to unbelievable dimensions, her back-tunnel avowedly held to the invasion of such a monstrous dick. One enormous Kthid war-pole was now jutting straight into the human female’s bowels, conquering its confined space through the most ruthless of methods. The foremost of their generation’s women, being sodomized in the open by an alien. Her pussy reacted by twitching wildly, that sloppy pit sluicing out excessive nectar as its erogenous embrace was forsaken for another.

At that moment, Anna beheld the incomprehensible expression of pain upon Miranda Black’s visage. Taken by surprise, the legendary explorer had no opportunity to brace for what was coming. Her countenance seemed frozen in a state of near-ruptured imperilment, every vein in her beautiful face starkly pronounced and popping outward as if on the verge of cracking open and spilling out her blood. The eyes were at a loss of sanity, pure depictions of mindless hurt. It was the look of a person so overwhelmed that she couldn’t even remember her own name.

Then Sarcand thrust a second time, and Miranda’s body was rocked afresh. Like a boxer knocked out on her feet and awakened by a follow-up punch, the heroine’s pupils scrambled into alertness, panicked at having lost both their sense of control and whereabouts. The following expressions upon that visage were something that Anna didn’t even think a human possible of emoting. The flame-haired Astronaut became like an icon of livid madness as she fought to endure these last few pumps. The Kthid Warlord was likewise approaching the end goal for his raging libido. He punished that anus with some truly savage thrusting, dipping waist-deep with every plunge so to gain his pleasure. That Master and Slave were going to orgasm in unison, though lewdly so in opposite holes.

With one last frenzy of energy, that dick and its current socket melted completely, and the incredibly tight fit seemed to trigger Sarcand. Almost like a switch had been flipped, what followed was an ear-piercing shriek from Miranda as her extraterrestrial owner began flooding those cramped confines with churning seed. Her own reaction was to piss on the floor.  The heroine had completely lost control of herself… and she had been slam-fucked into an orgasm by dark, alien hate-sex, rape in a cruel and organized form. There wasn’t one among them who wasn’t rocked to their very core by what they had just seen.

While the consequences of Miranda’s defilement were visible to all through her fitful squirming and ignoble collapse into her own piss, the air-tight lodge that the alien held on her ass meant that every morsel of cum was trapped inside her… none escaped to provide evidence of what had just happened. It didn’t matter… they all knew, anyway. The leash remained taut so to continuously remind her of her position even while she was too battered to think. As her cries died down to a pregnant silence of capitulation, a hollow, splurging sound could be faintly discerned. It sounded like thick gelatinous cream being splashed at great speed off a wall, and to Anna’s horror she realized she could actually hear it as his seed battered Miranda’s insides. Sarcand kept himself hilted inside Miranda’s clogged rectum. With the public coitus ended, Anna beheld a momentous relief overcome the flame-haired heroine’s supremely haggard eyes. She had survived. The note of still existing glinted within those stress-devastated green pupils.

Sarcand unhanded her hip and allowed her leash to slacken. Falling like a rag doll, she slumped to the deck, that shrinking dick popping out of her asshole with a loud and undignified sound. An obscene amount of jettisoned goo came pouring out of her gaping asshole, that alien sperm as thick and rich as yogurt. The oozing of his rape-seed out of her violated hole made a perfectly indecorous ending to her public violation, splashing her naked legs and quivering thighs with splattered masses of Kthid cum. Anna noticed with relief that she, somehow, seemed to be intact… and then, in horror, it slowly dawned on her how well trained her holes had to be to hold up to that treatment. Even so, Miranda’s lower-body was so battered that she didn’t even try to rise… laying in a puddle of her piss and his cum. Every Earthling watched as the toughest human they had ever known about wallowed in her own sodomized agony and filth, unable to even get up. None of them could have expected this when the conquering xenos summoned them to this chamber, but a more thorough and ungodly violation of their civilization’s values couldn’t be imagined. The Kthid began laughing aloud. Everyone could feel the chilly touch of human doom grasp the room.

“That is what you all are,” Sarcand promised as he swept his gaze over the officers. “This is all you will ever be. Meat for the glory of the Dark Star.”

“Enough of this!” a stentorian voice suddenly yelled out.

The shout had filled the room before the woman herself so did. Activated by a slew of holographic-sensors mounted in the ceiling, those tiny machines projected a glowing figure into the very center of the room. Atalanta appeared human-sized before all, summoned by those rays of artificial lightning. The imperious glare was Empress-like in its authority, directed staunchly in challenge of what the Kthid had just declared. The violation of Miranda was a symbol of Earth’s defeat before their race. As a heroine both more ancient and storied than even Miranda, Atalanta wasn’t going to allow such a boast to go unchallenged.

“Listen to me, you fork-tongued, filthy lizard!” she spat with more hot emotion than it should be possible for a computer to perform. “I’ve been watching everything that has happened on board this ship, and I tell you something! You may think that you’ve accomplished something here today, but you haven’t accomplished a thing. I do not know why you are after the colonists, but I promise you this… you’ll not get to a single one of them out of their tanks. I am one of the people that hold the password to this mainframe, and I cannot be broken,” she promised. “Even if you get the other three passwords, you’ll never even succeed in making a single percentage of progress in getting mine. Is that understood!?”

The exhibition that the Kthid had put on had truly lit the spark of old-world hatred within Atalanta’s digitalized soul. Glowing visage covered in a frown, she gazed down at the woman who now symbolized the disgrace of mankind with more venomous loathing than she seemingly held for the aliens. Judging the woman without a single ounce of mercy or understanding, she spat a glowing, massless orb of light at her. “And you, Miranda,” she said, voice chilly as winter, “are a disgrace to the Federation.”

Miranda panted, managing to elevate herself onto her knees. With cheeks still red, she gazed up at that hologram-heroine with smoldering rancor and enmity. Showing no impression at all over the chastisement that had been made stated by the AI, she just shook her head. “You stupid bitch,” she said, green eyes filled with anger. “You are going to eat Kthid shit before they’re through with you.”

Atalanta’s eyes narrowed with unmitigated hostility. To her thinking, Miranda was not only a disgraced icon, but a traitor as well for having so completely given up on the Federation. Yet no matter the piercing intensity of her gaze, that breathless redhead could not be made to show even a single hint of ignominy or shame over what she had performed. Atalanta’s gaze could have melted a wall, and yet Miranda proved to be thoroughly, utterly unperturbed. The ravaged fuck-slave would not be cowed by a fellow human.

It was the AI who was finally forced to break their glowering duel. She returned her hologram-eyes on the figures of the Kthid, having thrown down the gauntlet and were awaiting their response.

Sarcand stood, seemingly stunned. His face was unmoving though his fang-filled mouth was partly parted. Every other alien seemed to be nearly as surprised by Atalanta’s declaration as she lay down the law, make it clear how pointless their mission was. 

Then… the alien Warlord started to make a strange, throaty hissing sound. Only when the others continued, and the translation software finally began catching up, did Anna realize that in a human it would have been a belly-laugh. Every single Kthid in the chamber jointed him in this wholesale laughter. They were laughing with such a lack of abandon that Anna would have thought it impossible for such a savage and brutish race to make such merriment. But this wasn’t just the laughter of someone who had beheld an amazing bout of comedy. This was boyish, contemptuous, derisive laughter. They were laughing as if Atalanta had just said the most foolish thing in the cosmos.

Growing ever-angered by their ridicule, the ancient Exalted gritted her digitized teeth. “Be gone from my ship,” she snarled.

“Such entertainment your paltry race provides!” Sarcand heartily announced, remaining overjoyed by what he had just heard. “Fine then! I keep my promises, and I am not above a tiny wager. If you are so confident in your abilities, then I shall honor you with a covenant! For as long as you haven’t surrendered us the password that you hold, none of my Kthid warriors will be besmirching or violating any of the humans on the Midgar-6. They will go undefiled until you give the blessing with your sweet surrender. Afterward, it will be open season, and any ranked Warrior will be able to claim his share of your alien cunts. Does that seem agreeable to you, oh ferocious and omnipotent digital cunt?” he asked.

Atalanta glared at him, utterly unafraid. “Yes,” she plainly replied. “Do your worst.”

Anna gulped. She did not like this showdown… They both seemed so unbreakably sure of their own capabilities. If nothing else, at least Atalanta’s stunt appeared to have strengthened the heart of the Officers. Miranda, legendary as her name was, was spoken of as a potential member of the Exalted, presumed dead before her time. Atalanta already was one, a tried and tested Goddess of War, a grandiose figure of legend whose achievements in life graced every history book ever printed since she was twenty years old. She was among the very best that humanity had ever had to offer. Even if Miranda could be so comprehensively defeated, that in no way gauranteed that Atalanta could be so as well.

“We will,” Sarcand promised with a predatory smirk. “In the meantime…” The scaled alien captain turned towards an armored warrior standing at his flank. From this heavyweight male, he pulled loose a scabbarded blade affixed to his belt as well as pouches which contained string-thin lasso-like cords. These he threw into the puddle of gunky semen which pooled around Miranda’s knees, as if the weapons were mere toys for his slave to dispose of. “The real Captain of this ship is missing,” he recommenced. “Your sister holds the last piece of the password I’ll need. She needs to be captured and brought here alive, and the thought of two sisters fighting each other because of my command amuses me. Miranda, you will go with Ocvar and his unit onto the hulk and hunt her down. Bring her back to me in bondage, broken if you are able to. Then I shall take great pleasure in including her in our games. I very much doubt that she’ll last as long as you have, but the experience of getting to violate two so remarkable sisters at once will surely give me a great taste of paradise.”

Though not yet having fully recovered, Miranda rose onto both feet. With ginger locks thickly draped over her visage, she wheezed. “It shall be done, great Lord.”

Atalanta’s mien turned even more churlish upon seeing the Heitera incline her head. “You know where to find my mainframe?” she boldly questioned. “Or do you need a map?” Without a further word, she disengaged the hologram and vanished.

With the AI’s projection having disappeared, the alien Warlord — still half-chuckling from what had just transpired — turned towards Thomas Shale. The human ensign looked as if he thought he had been forgotten, and was taken aback when Sarcand addressed him. “You… useful human. You will keep aiding us in what capacity you can. Do so to my pleasure, and I will see you rewarded.” He paused, considering. “You want a bedmate to stir your cock, yes? I promised that my own men would lay off the ship’s crew until Atalanta is broken. But I promised nothing for you, human.”

Before even waiting for a reply from Shale, the xeno Captain scanned the faces in the crowd. Stopping at that of Ki’ani’i, he pointed towards the green-colored Sethis. “Her, I think. She seems to hate you most. I would be entertained to see what you can do with her.”

Shale’s face lit up as he considered the possibility of owning a personal rape-victim as an obvious step up in his situation. He nodded. “Of course, my lord,” he promised while bowing his clean-shaved head. “That shroom bitch will be wonderful. I’ve always wanted to pound one of their algae-cunts to see what it feels! I assure you that I will have her broken and tame as a kitten by the time you finished with the Exalted.”

“Don’t make such bold promises,” Sarcand replied. “You won’t be able to keep them.”

Ki’an’i’s countenance darkened with indignation at being gifted to that brute Thomas Shale. It was clear that she wanted to give loud protestations for her honor but thought the better of it. These were perilous times and these aliens were utterly merciless. Best not to make it worse for herself until she could do something effective to fight back. Still, she glared at Shale with venomous eyes.

Anna’s attention, however, remained squarely focused on Miranda. That statuesque beauty had drawn the blade… for a Kthid it would have been a large dagger but in her hands it was a sword. She was inspecting its qualities after the fashion of someone masterful at swordplay. She seemed not to spare a thought to anything that had happened in the room, save that of the mission she had been given to bring in her sister. This trauma was like a drop in a sea of torments which she had to endure and she couldn’t allow its suffering to rule her.

Others in the room looked at her and they saw either a fallen heroine or a hapless victim… or to those as stone-hearted as Atalanta, a broken traitor. Anna thought that she was likely the only one who saw deeper than that as she examined the resuscitated heroine. Miranda had not crackled even one bit when Atalanta so accusingly stared her down. She hadn’t even wilted. She was not broken in the sense of someone who had been destroyed mentally and then made to be the feckless slave of some vicious Master. Her enslavement and subjugation had been different.

There was still steel to her, enough to match any of them. She was still the Miranda of peerless renown who’d catapulted to the top of the HEF before she was even twenty. Her fortitude and willpower were greater than Anna’s by orders of magnitude, to the point she doubted the comparison was even fair. She was Sarcand’s personal bed-slave and Heitera not because she was broken… but because some part of her immense pride was still soldiering on even when every other individual’s flame would have long-since been extinguished. Were she to have been broken, then Sarcand would have callously tossed her away into some wretched pit of unending debauchery, like he assuredly had done with innumerable other pleasure-slaves that his race had captured. It took immense strength of character to remain becoming in the alien Warlord’s eyes, strength the likes of which Anna could not even imagine. She was tamed, cowed and made to suffer through the most extreme depravities of interspecies whoredom. But no. Miranda was not broken… some part of the heroine was tough enough to hold on.

Anna felt a sickening weakness grasp her stomach so badly that she almost couldn’t stand upright. If Miranda Black was this unbelievable, unquenchable, incomprehensible tough Warrior-Angel, unrivaled among all the ranks of humanity… then what did that say of the man and the species that had turned her into this?

Next Chapter ->

Supplemental Material

History Entry – Exploration of the Eridani Sector

7 thoughts on “Point of No Return 3 – The Rape of a Heroine

  1. Love the world building. Yet I real crave a story with more violence. You have sci fi technology, you can do tremendous body harm to a body and then regenerate it in healing vats. Plasma bolts scorching skin/flesh as someone is violated. Targeted lightning that hits erogenous zones. Spherical lightning that has never been replicated to our days can be used to harm and burn and electrocute someone. Grotesque body modifications, some prisoners killed just for the pleasure of it, to see hoe they feel when you fuck them as they slowly die. This increase the tension of the main protagonists even more as they do not know if they are gonna survive the next rape or not.

    At least this are my hopes for the story.

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    1. You will get some of your wishes. This story is designed not to be one of the more extreme ones in on my site – End of Elves might be ideal for those desires – but things similar to some of those will happen. The Kthid aren’t exactly know for their gentleness but they don’t blithely waste wombs either

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  2. I like these little details we get fed about the Kthid that make the audience, or at least me, curious about the setting. Last time it was about Kthid culture, this time biology. As Anna points out, normally using another species, let alone a species that evolved on another planet REALLY isn’t going to work for breeding purposes. Obviously Kthid biology allows for this, but Anna has an otherwise very well-made point. Furthermore, it does make you wonder. The Kthid are an exclusively male species, but has that always been the case? Did they once have a preferred “host” species on their homeworld, which is now extinct, or were there Kthid females and something happened to them?

    Or are the Kthid themselves not entirely natural, and their ability to breed with multiple alien species the result of advanced biological engineering?

    Also, as previously announced…

    “What is its name?” the captain asked, eyes still hard as crimson pebbles.

    “Thomas Shale!” the man yelled aloud before Ocvar could reply, “And I hate these bitches as much as you do! Noticing that you were collecting them for sport, I couldn’t help but assist! These whores have undue high opinions of themselves. Real mouthy bitches! But like all women, they’re actually only good for satisfying what’s between your legs!” he jeered, giving off a chuckle and a shit-eating grin.

    God damn it! The decent men trying to help the women were all slaughtered, and the ones in the tubes are still at grave risk, and the the only known shitbag among them survived! It’s like reverse karma or something…

    I assure you that I will have her broken and tame as a kitten by the time you finished with the Exalted.”

    “Don’t make such bold promises,” Sarcand replied. “You won’t be able to keep them.”

    😆 That was kind of nice, though. Sarcand’s like “Don’t mistake the fact that you’re not dead yet for any level of respect.”

    And then, of course, there’s Miranda. It’s really hard to read just about everything about her here, and it got very…complicated for me. I hate to say this, but the scene was actually kind of arousing. I mean, technically Miranda climaxed…and…somehow the fact that it was kind of arousing actually made me more uncomfortable than the scene would have otherwise. It’s difficult to explain. It’s especially upsetting because of the glimpses Anna gets into what’s going on inside of Miranda’s head, and how she may be willing her body to respond to the rape, which suggests that she has to, lest there be consequences. The description of what happened to her, which we admittedly only get in broad strokes, make me sadder, because again Miranda sounds so much like the type of character I’d be latched onto (and admittedly I am latched onto her here, but for now out of sympathy), and that was before you called her a Warrior-Angel. Like, God, I would have been rooting for her so hard during that fight, but anyway.

    So last time I remember mentioning that one of the sad things about Miranda is how respected she was, and how other people would react to her, the loss of respect. Thus far, everyone’s just been sad when they see her, and I think Amara is the closest to feeling how I feel about her.

    Of course, then there’s Atalanta.

    Glowing visage covered in a frown, she gazed down at the woman who now symbolized the disgrace of mankind with more venomous loathing than she seemingly held for the aliens. Judging the woman without a single ounce of mercy or understanding, she spat a glowing, massless orb of light at her. “And you, Miranda,” she said, voice chilly as winter, “are a disgrace to the Federation.”

    I understand why Atalanta is the way she is. She’s this elite who thinks of herself as nearly perfect, as she implied back in Chapter 1, and it’s not entirely unjustified due to her illustrious history, and since there are comparisons to be drawn between her and Miranda, she seems to think of herself as better than Miranda. I do understand where she’s coming from.

    It’s just…she doesn’t know what happened. None of us do. She doesn’t know what Miranda was put through in the years after being captured to make her like this. She doesn’t know how that fight where Sarcand beat her went. We know she killed three Kthid warriors without being touched, but no other details were given. Sure, maybe Sarcand ensured an honorable duel with his opponent, making sure she was at her physical peak, ensuring they had equal weapons and he wasn’t better armored than she was, that sort of thing. That’s hardly certain, though, especially given the way he acts. Miranda could have been worn down from fighting multiple Kthid warriors. She might not have had any power left in her weapons. For all anybody knows, she might have had to fight a fucking dragon in powered armor using her bare fists. Her loss might not reflect badly on her at all. None of these could be true, or all of these could be true. Atalanta doesn’t know, and she’s judging this woman incredibly harshly based on almost no information.

    I get Atalanta’s view here, but she needs a serious lesson in understanding.

    Mind you, I’m not supporting what’s going to happen to Atalanta, no more than I do what happened to Miranda. None of the women deserve what’s going to happen to them.

    Well now Miranda’s been sent to the space-hulk to hunt down the escapees, and I have a guess at roughly what scene will cause Miranda to lose a lot of people, but I refuse to give up on her. Hope springs eternal, no matter how logical or illogical it may be, and I hope that one day, even if it’s only by the third book of the trilogy, I can cheer for her instead of just wanting to hug her.

    So, uh…yeah. #Team Miranda, I guess. 😳

    We’ll see where this goes next time!

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    1. like these little details we get fed about the Kthid that make the audience, or at least me, curious about the setting. Last time it was about Kthid culture, this time biology. As Anna points out, normally using another species, let alone a species that evolved on another planet REALLY isn’t going to work for breeding purposes. Obviously Kthid biology allows for this, but Anna has an otherwise very well-made point. Furthermore, it does make you wonder. The Kthid are an exclusively male species, but has that always been the case? Did they once have a preferred “host” species on their homeworld, which is now extinct, or were there Kthid females and something happened to them?

      Or are the Kthid themselves not entirely natural, and their ability to breed with multiple alien species the result of advanced biological engineering?

      There are bits of the puzzle of how the Kthid came to be that start showing up in the next chapter, but for the time being you might want to start keeping track of unlikely evolutionary advantages / extreme adaptations that species have gone through… because that help you start thinking about it.

      That was kind of nice, though. Sarcand’s like “Don’t mistake the fact that you’re not dead yet for any level of respect.”

      That is basically where he is at, yeah… Huntmaster Sarcand’s view on respect goes pretty much exactly as far as having strong women to breed and no further. If you aren’t a Kthid and he can’t fuck you, you’re shit. If you’re not a Kthid and he CAN breed you, choosing to do so rather than kill you is about the most respect you can expect from him.

      Sarcand is an ASSHOLE.

      It’s just…she doesn’t know what happened. None of us do. She doesn’t know what Miranda was put through in the years after being captured to make her like this. Mind you, I’m not supporting what’s going to happen to Atalanta, no more than I do what happened to Miranda. None of the women deserve what’s going to happen to them.

      Yeah…Atalanta doesn’t DESERVE the harsh lesson in perspective that is coming, but she is likely to get it anyway. Soon she will have a better understanding of how Miranda became like this. For better or… nah who am I kidding, it’s for worse. But at least she will know.

      I hope that one day, even if it’s only by the third book of the trilogy, I can cheer for her instead of just wanting to hug her.

      I look forward to that day as well 🙂

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