Work Text:
The laughter was always grating on her senses. It made the entire room quake and left no room for thought or word. Everything about the woman before her had this same effect. The Colossus of Sebbenytos, Labrys Agamemnon, was larger than life. Her entire being spoke to her power and whispers from throughout the troops only further enhanced tales of her strength, bearing, and capabilities. All of this was dwarfed by the presence of the woman herself: standing at near ten feet tall, the massive, bronzed woman’s figure relaxing in a cushioned impromptu throne, shamelessly downing wine by the bottle. While that damnable laughter continued to shake the station itself.
Astra Palaiologos II was miniscule in comparison, in both size and deed. A few inches over five feet tall and nothing besides her name to grant status and awe upon her. But what a name it was! Royal DNA of an ancient creature thrumming through her body, responsible for her flicking pair of eel-like tails and the sparks idly passing between the interwoven antennae crown at the back of her head of pure white hair.
This DNA imbued in Astra was enough to draw some to kneel- but this alone was not enough. It was Labrys’s might she currently required for the true path of a Warlord to be fulfilled. For utter victory and reclamation of her home for all her people. To draw blood until it was enough to stem the tide of Katarran blood poured to whet the stones of Polemos. And so, for now- she was a humble student. Ruling in name only, while Labrys held her leash. For now.
“My liege!” Labrys’s booming voice called out, pulling Astra from idle treacherous thoughts. “Please, approach, if you will. I wish to impart lessons upon you.”
“Lord Agamemnon.” Astra’s voice was steady and emotionless, taking a single step closer to her mentor.
She already understood what these lessons would entail. She was too drunken and too boisterous for it to be one of tactics or leadership- those had already been taught and learned. Astra had some amount of respect for her mentor, the things she'd taught and the path she'd helped her carve. But an end came to all things. Astra’s main companions and teachers in her studies nowadays were the contents of her library. Full of books from across the seas, full of the accounts of anyone who’d been capable of wielding a pen- she could interrogate these lessons for hours at end. But the lessons of her very first mentor- those Labrys called upon her for in the depths of night- required a more physical component.
“Closer, my liege.” Labrys’s voice was quieter now- more focused and intent upon Astra. The single step wasn’t disobedience, but it was not the immediate genuflection and servile attitude she was accustomed to from those considered beneath her. Her tenor didn’t echo through the hall anymore, but instead carried a low, growling desire in it. One which Astra had to fight to resist the urge to shiver, shudder, or twitch- composure and control was paramount to rule. And an emperor would not submit to mere words.
“For what purpose, my lord? I can adequately hear your tales from here.” Her tone remained cold and uncompromising. Labrys tended to interpret it as uncaring, but Astra’s façade was one carefully built and maintained. A softer, more earnest side of her would swell in the company of those dear to her- her trusted Merarch Odyssia and dear Akolouthos Raiza allowed to see the true conquerors heart- but in this room she was steel.
This didn’t provoke fury within Labrys, but instead a pregnant silence. One that felt charged and continued to build as Labry’s pose slowly shifted from its lordly lounging, to one more readied- as if to pounce upon Astra. While the massive, imposing Katarran’s figure before her stilled, Labrys’s tail slid out from where it had been resting- the wide, broad axe-head end of it whipping into view and out of sight in a swift, fluid motion. Astra stifled the instinct to cut it out of the air with the saber worn at her hip. The threat of that deadly, sharpened weapon wasn’t real- a drop of royal blood upon the floor of her chambers would be a sin, and not even the Colossus of Sebbenytos was secure enough in her strength to risk such umbrage.
Instead, the flat of Labrys’s tail tapped ever so gently against the small of Astra’s back, the pure weight and strength of it making her stumble forward enough to satisfy Labrys’s command.
“My liege, I merely wish to instruct you in ways that will prove… fruitful. Or do you mean to tell me you are unable to understand what is required of you?” Her voice was nearly cooing, as though this was a pleasant conversation. She was toying with Astra, testing how far she could bend the royal Warlord of Mycenae before she snapped.
Astra would not break.
“Lord Agamemnon. I’ve been nothing but thankful for all you have to offer up to me. If you have more lessons to grant you need only unveil the gifts and they shall be accepted.” Sophistry- Astra and Labrys needed each other, and neither was in a position to reject the other’s needs. But this was the framing required for rule. All was Astra’s own will, and this towering force of Katarran might was merely paying her biologically ordained obeisance.
Labrys sat, unmoving and silent upon her makeshift throne- haphazardly built of materials available. Slowly that all too familiar chortle began to build again, bared fangs revealed by Agamemnon’s grin.
“Ha! Truly, my liege, you are kind to indulge my excesses with such nobility.” She leaned forward, dropping all pretenses of respect while her hands gripped Astra’s hips as though she were a doll, pulling her close. She began whispering in the ear of the royal, voice dripping with condescension.
“Long live the Palaiologoi. For the Golden Age.”
Astra could smell the hot breath thick with alcohol, could feel those massive fingers teasing under her military jacket, threatening to tear the material. Astra began to instinctively undo her buttons, the shame of stumbling to her quarters in a torn greatcoat flashing through her mind. This provoked more noises of unrestrained desire from the towering woman pressing her into her lap in an undignified, half-undressed state.
“Mmmm… Your Majesty… Your allure grows stronger every day… The strength of your bloodline and character is apparent to all others. But here… now…” Labrys’s tongue pressed into Astra’s neck, a grimace setting into the smaller woman’s face as the hands of the Colossus holding her began to explore and touch over bared, soft gray skin. “This is a sight and morsel… just for me, most loyal of your lords.”
Astra kept silent as she was pawed at, idly wondering if Labrys would be truly upset if she discovered Astra’s nights in Raiza’s company. Her hands worked efficiently to slip her coat completely off, then moving to undo her belt- saber clattering to the floor as she succeeded. This led to Labrys’s hand immediately straying downward, hungrily wrapping around the soft thigh of the girl in her lap.
With less to occupy herself with and now buried in Labrys’s grasp, with her massive biceps wrapped around Astra’s shoulders, the Warlord’s level temperament began to strain, tails flicking in anticipation. Despite Labrys’s unending bluster and the off-putting scent of alcohol she was suffusing Astra in, the woman’s age and experience made itself clear upon her liege’s body every time. Every touch and prodding tease to the bulge in her panties provoked a twitch, a shiver, or a stifled gasp that Labrys read expertly, putting all of her efforts into making Astra come undone.
A hiss of breath left the Palaiologos’s lips, Astra’s hips lifting into Labrys’s touch as she idly pressed the pad of her thumb into her cock through the thin fabric layer of her panties. That unappealing laughter sounded right in her ear once more.
“Such lovely sounds you make for me, my liege. They don’t sound all that different from the noises made by numeroi women who service me so.” Husky, perverted, disgusting- Astra’s body was quaking from it all, beads of pre smearing her straining panties. Her breathing was unsteady, hands grasping at Labrys’s arms for any stability as her panties were pushed aside.
Astra’s eyes drifted upwards, the sight of Labrys looking down upon her visible through the haze in her vision. Skin artificially bronzed, a smirk of dominance as she took in the sight of Astra coming undone beneath her.
“Indulge me, my liege.” Labrys’s expression grew hungrier and more excited, as if she’d hit upon a new idea for further degrading the royalty in her palms. Astra could only open her mouth and let out a weak moan as she felt a fingertip press to the base of her cock.
“When we’re grown, tremendous care is taken in imbuing our bodies with the strength and capabilities best suited for our positions in this world. For many numeroi, this means they are simply made to be able to endure, to fight tirelessly, and to desire blood. For myself, it means utter destruction and ravages upon my foes with my strength. For our royalty, nothing but the most ancient and revered of creatures may be used- Panthalassians from the deepest depths intertwined, a DNA built to rule over others.”
Astra could barely understand where she was going with this common knowledge, the sensation of the fingertip brushing up and down her shaft continuing to distract and provoke more stifled noises of need. Labrys’s other hand stopping roaming over Astra’s insignificant breasts, lifting from the shivering royal to press a finger between her own lips. Her free hand finally moved away from Astra’s throbbing cock, groping a thigh and spreading her legs.
“Of course, this must mean that one as regal as you… heir to the dynasty of Katarran pride… genetically destined to rule and control… is built to endure…. built to take… Anything. I. Give. You.”
Labrys’s whispered ‘praise’ was punctuated by her hand moving between Astra’s spread thighs, provoking the Warlord to gasp out, hands unsteadily grasping at Labrys’s arms in an effort to reposition.
“L-lord Aghhh-” A pleading exclamation dies in her throat as she feels Labrys’s finger press inside of her, Astra’s entire body burning up with a heat that feels foreign to her. Short, uneven breaths as she feels the finger inside of her, all thoughts of composure and control lost as she was filled by the colossal touch of Labrys Agamemnon. Her entire body was shaking, shuddering, hips instinctively shifting up, but the firm grip of the Colossus on her body held her in place.
“Be still, my liege… you’re taking it so well…”
Labrys’s cooing burned in Astra’s mind, the sensation of her finger curling and touching deep inside of her drawing even more humiliating sounds from the young royal in her grasp. Astra felt as if she’d never heard such whimpers or gasps leave her lips before, but was utterly unable to stop them, her heart pounding in her chest, cock throbbing, entire body flushed and writhing against the restraining grasp. A single large palm placed over her stomach was all it took for the lord to press her down further upon her finger, stars momentarily flashing before Astra’s vision.
“I-I’m gonna-” It felt like she was dying, the heat throbbing inside of her more intense than any she’d felt before. Gasping out words between moans as Labrys’s teasing and toying continued, the steady pump of the finger inside of her drawing more sounds from Astra.
“Please, majesty, let it all out for your loyal lord.” Labrys’s voice was commanding, dominant- and Astra could feel the way her finger twisted inside of her, hitting against her most sensitive areas as she orgasmed. Shaking, Astra was forced to watch as her cock twitched, a few small ropes of cum splattering across the back of Agamemnon’s hand, glistening against the sweat coating both of their bodies.
Slowly, Labrys lifted her hand, dorsal side presented to Astra as if to further demean her. Astra was gasping for breath beneath her, vision unfocused even as those fingertips grew closer to her lips.
“My liege- such royal seed is wasted on me. Please, I must entreat you to not bestow such treasures upon others carelessly.” Even this line was said with condescension, and Astra was too undone to do anything but meekly obey- pathetically pressing her tongue into the back of Labrys’s hand, tasting her own cum as she was forced to clean it off.
“That’s a good Warlord.” The humiliating praise continued as Labrys gently removed her finger from Astra, a slight push making the Katarran stumble out of her lap and fall to her arms and knees in a heap, panting for breath.
“I hope you’ll take this lesson to heart, your majesty- and I’d be happy to repeat it any time you require my services.” Astra’s grimace was out of Labrys’s sight, unsteadily getting to her feet as she lifted her belt and jacket from the ground where they’d been tossed thoughtlessly. Not meeting Labrys’s gaze, she took her time to lift and adjust her pants and belt, straightening her saber’s clasp and rebuttoning her greatcoat.
“Please remember to get some rest and to sober up for the meeting tomorrow. We would benefit from your tactical acumen.” She spoke curtly, composure reasserting as she regained her bearing and mask of uncaring. The smirk on Labrys’s face slowly faded, snorting while she paused in lifting a half-emptied wine bottle from beside her throne.
“Bah. I’ll be there, my liege.”
“Thank you. I’ll take my leave.” Back straight and facing away, Astra gave a polite nod before leaving, boots clicking against the solid metal flooring. She made it a short walk into the hallway, the metallic slam of the door echoing behind her before Astra was willing to let out a soft hiss, the aches and bruises from being so thoroughly used by her lord making her stumble and brace herself against a wall.
Glowering expression on her face, Astra bit down on her lip hard, the taste of iron tinging her mouth and overwhelming the other taste left on her tongue. She allowed herself only a few moments to rest against the wall, straightening out and continuing to walk, regaining her expressionless mask while returning to her quarters. Raiza’s company would have comforted her- but she didn’t want comfort in these moments. She chose instead to stoke the fires building in her chest. Every unsteady step took her closer to a day when Labrys would beg for her mercies as she murmured under her breath.
“Polemos draws ever nearer, Labrys Agamemnon.”
