Small Medium at Large [ratling, m/f, light femdom, reverse rape] “This is a disaster!” “Inquisitor,” pleaded Interrogator Cleim, “please calm yourself.” He took a second to phrase his statement. “No vessel has left the station, she can’t have left.” “How did she escape her cell in the first place?” Inquisitor Fohs was turning scarlet he was so furious. “A Beta level psyker! Have you any idea the damage even one of those could do?” “I-it was my understanding, Inquisitor, that her specialty was-“ “Divination! What, do you not find that ‘dangerous?’” The Inquisitor’s sneer was almost childlike in its pettiness. Cleim was only his interrogator thanks to a ‘request’ called by the sector’s Lord Inquisitor. He hated Cleim’s former master and took every opportunity to criticize his instruction. “A diviner can be more dangerous than a dozen pyromancers!” He shook his head in disgust. “You were responsible for that cell block.” “She will be found, Inquisitor.” “Yes, she will. Or you will find your chances for advancement to be stymied completely.” With that he left , heading in the direction of the control room. Interrogator Cleim stood before a data console in his chambers, reviewing the escapee’s files: [[Name: unknown Codename: Featherweight Sex: female. Height: 3’4’’ Age: 24 (estimated) Species: homo sapiens minimus Psy-level: Beta Minor Data: No data exists before capture at The Emperor’s Own Luck casino on Chronus III. Complaints were lodged by seventeen separate, recently bankrupted casinos about a “frakking ratling” on an “unbelievable winning streak. Subject was apprehended without struggle after psy-dampened operatives engaged in a smash and grab operation of her hotel suite.]] Cleim stopped reading. How could a beta level psyker get captured so easily, even by shielded troops? He was about to continue when he heard the pneumatic hiss of his door opening. “Who-“ he glanced at the threshold and scrambled for his sidearm. The diminutive silhouette sped towards him. His needle pistol spat out a single shard before he was knocked to the ground. The two hit the floor with a muted thump , struggling against each other. Cleim was larger and well versed in hand to hand, but each time he made a move she was countering it, albeit clumsily. A stalemate, then. A small hand slapped against Cleim’s groin and the pain caused him to flinch. In a second, two stubby legs were squeezing against the sides of his head and he was fighting for breath as a warm mass behind cheap prison trousers pressed down against his face. The small figure slammed both of her fists into his stomach at once and drove what little wind he had in his lungs from his body. “Say uncle!” squeaked the least intimidating voice he’d ever heard. He croaked and tried to throw her off, inviting her to give him another blow to the gut. Cleim’s mind started to go blank as oxygen starvation kicked in. The pskyer’s groin pressed down even harder and he bit down reflexively. Yelping, the ratling bolted off of her victim. Cleim coughed, wobbling to a sitting postion. Blurry eyed, his head swiveled to see where his assailant went. He heard a hiss and everything went dark. He awoke to a world spinning. It was also a rather cold world; his whole body was covered in goosepimples. “What just-“ “It’ll take you another twelve and a half second to shrug off the drug, Interrogator.” The ratling’s voice was somehow less squeaky now that she wasn’t shouting. “It’s a good thing you keep the antidote in your coat pocket. This pistol is quite deadly.” “H-how did you-“ “I can see the future. In three seconds you’re going to realize how silly that question was. And then you’re going to ask me why you’re naked.” Cleim shifted his weight and realized his hands were bound. He looked down. “Why am I-“ He glanced up at her with a glare. She was grinning wickedly. She’d exchanged her prison garb for a cut down version of a very nice robe he happened to own. “Just answer the question, heretic.” “Now now, don’t be mean,” she tutted. “We’ve got to get along, after all. We’re going to be together for a long time.” “Why-“ “Am I doing this?” She giggled. “Because I can see the future and this is the best one.” “They’ll catch you,” he said. “I’m no use as a hostage, the Inquisitor will be happy to blow us out of the sky. I assume this is an escape pod? “Yep. One of three hundred I launched from the station right before I used your key codes to turn its power off.” “But how did you-“ he tried to rise, but the cuffs around his wrists dug into his skin and he laid down again, unconsciously crossing his legs to cover his groin. “Because I can see the future and this is the best one.” “What?” “You were about to ask ‘to what end,’” she said with a shrug. “I have a bad habit of answering before being asked. I’ll try to stop, but won’t be able to. Eventually you’ll get used to it, then find it endearing.” “What in the name of the Emperor are you talking about?” As a member of the Ordo Hereticus, he had dealt with psykers before. But never with someone like this. “We have two weeks before we get picked up by a Rogue Trader I happen to be friends with. Three months later we’ll be on a delightful little world far from the front lines of the Imperium’s wars. Any of them. That’s where we’re going to live, until we get tired of it and move to a hiveworld in the Segmentum Obscurus.” She was looking down at him with incredibly large, incredibly green eyes. Where had she gotten the lipstick? he wondered. “And now,” overriding what he was about to say and standing, “we get to the fun part.” Her robe (his, cut down and re-sewn to fit her slight frame) slid from her shoulders. Cleim tried in vain to keep from gulping. “What, if I may be so bold as to ask,” Cleim said, trying to sound less nervous than he was, “makes you think I’d want to fornicate with a disgusting mutant like you?” Her smile widened and she started to press her breasts together, scrunching them up and letting them fall down again and again. “Because I have nice tits.” She pinched one of her nipples and licked her lips. “And because you looooove this…” Falling gently to her knees, she forced Cleim’s legs apart. She positioned her body just right to keep him from closing them again and grabbed up his flaccid member in one hand, pumping it up and down. “I get better,” she said, winking. “I promise.” Before he could retort her head lowered and she took him in her mouth. He tried, he really did, to keep his thoughts pure. He tried to think of the Emperor, the Inquisition, his duty. But her tongue wriggling around him was coaxing him into arousal regardless. For a second, just a second, he remembered seeing a young battle sister licking her lips after eating an icee cone when he was still in the schola. It had given him his first erection and- “Son of a bitch,” he moaned. Fully hard, now, he tried to buck her off. His efforts served only to drive him deeper into her warm, oozing mouth and slick tongue. Misreading his intent, the small woman started to bob her head up and down with renewed vigor. She had his balls in one small hand and was gently rolling them around. Each little tweak caused him to tense. He glanced down and saw his throbbing member slick in and out between her tight lips over and over again. “W-why are you d-doing this?” he asked, letting out a little gasp each time she did that little thing with her tongue each time his head almost left her mouth. God Emperor, but she was good at this. “Reasons,” she said simply, smiling at him. She was beating him gently with her hand and licking the head of his penis like a candy treat. For a second he thought he was bleeding, but realized her lipstick was covering his shaft instead. She giggled as the realization sit in and wiped her hand, also covered in red, against his stomach. “I think you’re ready now,” she said, hopping up to straddle him. Her meaty little thighs slapped against him as she landed, continuing to do so as she instantly started to grind her groin against his red member. “Please-“ he began. “Okay!” she said cheerily, cutting off his unspoken ‘no’ with flagrant disregard for his meaning. Without even using her hand she twisted her hips and let him slip between her blushing, wet lips. She flinched at the first feeling of him inside of her, pausing, it seemed, to enjoy the sensation. Clein let her maintain her pause, failing miserably to stop himself twitching. Her moans were infectious and he found himself mimicking them as her insides flexed and tightened around him. Gradually, she started to move again. Rocking forward, she placed her hands on his chest and clawed at him. By the time she reached a speedy pace, the small space of their escape pod was flooded with the sounds of their mutual enjoyment. Gasps and moans and little cries of pleasure mixed with squelches of juice and the slap of flesh on flesh. The Interrogator bucked up suddenly, tearing painfully against the cuffs around his wrists. The force of the motion almost rocked the ratling off of him. She only stayed on top by digging hard into his chest, so hard she drew blood. A gasp passed through her lips as she felt her insides filling with molten sex. It burned its way up and then back down and out of her, splattering against her thighs as she continued to ride him up and down. As she laid back, panting, she continued her rapid humping until every last drop of fluid in his body seemed to pass up through his dick and into her belly. Eventually her thrusts were for nought, his strength leaving him despite her best efforts. She gave a little sigh of disappointment and then shrugged, standing and letting him slid out of her. He watched her stretch and walk over to a rations case. Strangely, it was filled with bottles of some very fine spirits. As she moved, little pink droplets left a trail behind her on the floor. It may have been his imagination… but it seemed like she was masking some discomfort. “Can I ask you one question?” he asked, breathless. “You’re going to ask considerably more than one, eventually, but go ahead,” she shrugged, pouring out two measures of alcohol. “Why are you doing this?” “Because I looked through the skeins of fate, saw the future. Hundreds of futures. I saw what will be and what could be…” “And?” Clein asked, tugging again at his cuffs. “Of all the futures that could be, this path, this path alone…” “YES?” “Will result in just the cutest babies in the whole universe.” She looked down at him and smiled, beaming. He stared at her. She continued to beam. “Seriously?” She kicked his foot and held a glass near his mouth, holding it there until he took a sip. “Say that again when you see the wee tikes.” “So… you’re pregnant?” She blinked, then laughed so hard she nearly dropped her glasses. Draining one in a single go she sat down on his chest, driving the wind from him. “Good heavens, no,” she said, trying to catch her own breath. “No, that’s years away. It’s going to take a loooong time to break you of that whole ‘the Emperor is all’ thing. No, we're two-hundred six-thousand eighty-two fucks away from having those kiddies.” She looked down at her empty glass. “Mind if I have yours?”