Sam was a svelte and lithe young man with an ivory complexion, with red freckles that rested on his curves. He was a ginger with short red curls and blue eyes, but his most noteworthy features were his “assets”. His cock was fat and 6” long, and his balls were plump things just shy of ping pong balls. His ass was like a small marble balcony, jutting out from his thin frame, built to support a burden greater than his body mass. A handful would be to palm a basketball, and the heat it radiated was a welcoming invitation.

Sam was oblivious to this though. As a slave he walked the great halls bare except for the shadowy tattoo that encircled his neck, a magic of servitude. His betters would smack his ass in the hall with a force that would make Sam stumble, dropping whatever he was charged with carrying, and in the slaves quarters he was used as furniture, or a bed warmer by the hulking eunuchs that worked the properties grain mill. His mistress though was worse than all of these. 

As a brood bearer Sam was his mistress’s surrogate. His betters were kreatin, insectoids that resembled crickets with their large spurred legs, antennae, and four arms. The females of the species bore ovipositors, so after an initial insemination, whether asexual or reproductive, these black phalluses would deposit a their load into a nutrient rich environment. Lower class keratin could make due with a compost heap, but nobles deposit their brood in slaves, feeding them medicines, nutrient rich bile, and keeping them in their sight during the gestation.

Roanark Eibriri was coming upon her one month of initial insemination and her abdomen bulged slightly with soft lumps. Her form was decidedly feminine with her narrow waist and large hips, but she, like many of her kin, were built like warriors, chiseled pectorals heaved from her chest, with none of the mammalian fat. An indigo layer of chitin coated her extremities and bordered her face, but blue skin made up her torso and face. Her sclera were the typical black void of her race, while shining azure locks were tied into a braid leading down to a tight ass. Resting her hand on her abdomen she then looked up. Sam was prostrate, facing away from his mistress on her queen sized mattress. 

He noted the floral motif of the sheets, the aroma of rose water, and the pretty pink flowers calmed him even in this compromising position. Suddenly, he hears the clack of chitin feet approaching from behind.

“So...” he feels the pads of two thumbs on either cheek spread him, a chill wind kissing the heat of his hole. “I hope you’ve kept this seed bed tight for me. Letting my royal brood slip out of you would be grounds for severe punishment.” 

As Sam responds “Ye-“ a hand leaves his left ass cheek and pushes an exploratory finger into him. His soft insides give way to the hard intruder, and Sam can feel a finger tickling what he can only describe as the back of his dick. Sam jerks in surprise, his sack tightens, and a clear dewy drop falls on the sheets from his hardening manhood.

Roanark has never mothered a brood before, so an inspection of where her children would stay was purely academic until she saw his reaction. Though humans were generally maggot like in appearance and unappealing, this one was hers. She wanted him to writhe for her, beg her, cry. These reactions inspired a cruelty that was possessive, not cold or calculated like that which she gave her enemies. She would break Sam with passion and hold the hot mess of his broken form close to her. This... was nobility. The right to rule... conquest.