Honestly, deepthroating isn't very pleasurable.
But I can't speak anymore, so I can't give commands like "suck it," "tease it," or "use your throat." All I can do is shove it into the hole.
The woman's eyes widen in shock as she resists.
This is the first time I've forced oral on someone since yesterday. She gags and retches but grabs my hand back, pressing against my thighs as she struggles desperately.
The sensation of her teeth is ticklish. Even if she tries to bite down, it's useless. My skin is abnormally elastic yet hard—it can even deflect bullets. My penis has its own defenses too.
It's like biting down on an ultra-thick, steel-cored piece of meat—her teeth can't even make a dent. Biting it off is nothing but a dream. If anything, her teeth might break from my thrusting. I wish I could tell her that, but I can't speak.
But maybe she's starting to understand, because her resistance gradually fades. Her mouth gapes wide enough to dislocate her jaw, drooling frothy saliva, and soon she's completely at my mercy.
She's smart. Quick to understand and quick to give up.
Her eyes weakly meet mine, unfocused, as fluids start dripping from her eyes and nose. That's when I ram my scorching hot cock deep into her throat.
As a tingling sensation runs through my hips, another intense ejaculation begins.
Hot, pulsating animal semen pours out in rhythm.
Surprisingly, she gulps… and starts swallowing it all into her stomach.
I don't know if it's her choice or an instinct to protect her respiratory system, but either way, those throat contractions aren't bad.
Every time I thrust my penis, she swallows in response. Her tongue presses against the underside of my glans, triggering another ejaculation. It's a functional cycle.
Well, I've developed another new way to dominate a woman.
With that small sense of accomplishment, I finally finish releasing everything. I feel strangely good. In a good mood, I let her head go.
The freed blonde woman coughs, her hands braced on the hard floor.
"Cough… gack… ugh… egh…"
Then, to my surprise, she starts sobbing like a child.
My mind is still human. Seeing her cry makes me feel sorry for her. I want the women who visit this room to experience the best sex they've ever had—something no human man can give them. I take pride in my professional craftsmanship.
Reluctantly, I sit down in front of her, cross-legged, and meet her gaze.
Startled by my unexpected behavior, she looks up. Then she lets out a small gasp. Fear flickers in her eyes.
When I sit cross-legged, my grotesque penis juts out like a spear.
Yes, it's a spear now. I secretly call it the *Butcher Lance*. Her eyes are fixed on it.
I slip my hands under her trembling arms and lift her up like a child, swinging her high. She scrunches her face and shakes her head, saying no.
What's there to say no to? You're crying like a child, so I'm trying to soothe you.
She wanted to resist, but her legs seem to have given out, and she can't steady her lower body. It's okay. I'll move for you—you just need to accept it.
I lower her onto my chest like a baby coming down from a high swing.
Wrapping my hands around her waist, I secure her and slowly slide her smooth body against mine.
Her body, already slick with fluids, slides effortlessly over me without resistance.
"—Guaaaah…!"
She makes an unintelligible sound as she's impaled.
I keep her straddling me, rocking her back and forth like soothing a child. With my strength, it's like playing with a stuffed toy.
"Ah… ah… ah… ah… ah—"
She can only make these sounds now. She's like a toy. Her throat arches in shock as she stares at the ceiling.
She's probably scared of my face. That's why she's looking away.
I see. In this position, my creepy face is right in front of hers. I hate this face too. Being this close, like lovers, must feel like torture. Poor thing.
But I love this position. It lets me admire the woman's body, including her facial expressions. Normally, cowgirl position is best for appreciating the female form, but given my situation, that's too unnatural and would raise suspicion. This is the compromise.
She's a woman with long blonde hair and hazel eyes. Her breasts are beautifully shaped, still firm but clearly well-matured, as evident from how they sway. She's in her prime. With her graceful limbs, she's probably been pursued by many men. I can't fathom why she became a soldier on the front lines. Is civilian life that desperate since I left?
Her young body is responsive. Pressing the tip of my *Butcher Lance* against her cervix, I rhythmically tap her G-spot. In no time, her honey pot starts drooling eagerly, soaking even my scrotum.
I'm good, aren't I? I know a lot about female erogenous zones.
Pleased with her reaction, I return to my task, rocking her body in and out with abandon.
As I admire her gasping, flushed face, I lose myself in thought.
It's been two days since I started violating this woman, now like a broken doll in my arms. Her body is covered in bruises, looking pitiful, but I'm sure she's happy. Because she's with me.
I'm not conceited.
This is an alien fortress city. Right in its center is a facility where captured soldiers are used for experiments or breeding monsters.
Among the prisoners sent here, some women face far worse fates, and men's endings are nothing short of tragic.
At least this woman moaned in ecstasy for half a day at first. I think she's thoroughly enjoyed my work.
The women assigned to me experience paradise until they get pregnant. Since I've retained my human mind, I'm relatively gentle with them. The other Butchers are rough. Most women break before they get pregnant.
Maybe my quality of work has been recognized. Now, I'm often assigned to these indoor duties instead of the battlefield. Given my position, it's still an acknowledgment, and it motivates me.
Lost in thought, time passes unnoticed. My semen is ready to burst. Her vagina makes slurping sounds, eager for more.
I pull her hips tightly against me, grinding deep inside her as I release.
"Mmm… mm… ah… ah…"
Her body spasms in response to my ejaculation. She's a sweet woman, tightening her vagina obediently. I gladly give her what she wants.
Midway through my release, the blonde woman slumps against me, exhausted.
This is bad. She might be starting to break.
It's better to break her at the very end. Let her enjoy herself fully, then break her just before she leaves me. That way, she won't have to face the hell that follows.
My semen acts as a lubricant, making her vaginal walls even slicker.
Her flesh folds cling tightly even as my penis stretches them wide. It's fair to call it a masterpiece.
I don't know how many men she's been with, but I envy them. With a human penis, her vagina would experience more complex sensations.
But I have something no human man can do. Like this ejaculation volume. Pouring this much fluid changes how her vaginal walls feel entirely.
It's like adding toppings to ramen mid-meal to change the flavor. Renewing my enthusiasm, I keep rocking her body, enjoying the new slippery sensation, and closely observing her face, which is losing its focus.
I think I know this woman.
She was probably captured recently. In the fortress city *Fort 88* where I was stationed, she might have been a colleague or someone I knew. There's a familiar feeling in my brain.
But I can't remember.
My thoughts are clear, but my memories feel heavy, like they're coated in thick fat, blurry and sluggish. Sometimes, when my sexual desire is strong or when I try to recall the past, my rationality dulls like an animal's. It must be the Butcher's body.
Still, there's one thing I'll never forget.
Never.
The fact that I was betrayed by my comrades and left as bait in the heart of enemy territory.