Catgirl Abuse - In Space! (M/FF, anal, catgirl murder, SF racism)

A sequel of sorts to this.

My story index.

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Catgirl Abuse - In Space!

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“My lord ambassador, would you mind delaying your… gratification until after…”

The feline princess broke off, wincing at the slutty moan that filled the small but luxurious meeting room.

Across a table from her, the human ambassador was casually bouncing another catgirl up and down on his dick. The sound of his cock sliding in and out of the delirious girl’s asshole…

“It’s… very distracting, my lord,” the princess continued.

My lord. The words scraped at her nerves as she spoke them, but that was reality.

The ambassador let his hands drop from the narrow hips of the catgirl on his lap. She pressed tighter into his chest, bouncing her ass up and down, whimpering her pleasure into his neck as she rode him.

“Let me explain something to you, Princess Lresse,” he said, his voice calm despite the physical exertion.

She clamped her legs together, hands spreading into claws at the confused jumble of hostility and unwelcome lust that filled her.

“Look at this thing buttfucking herself on my cock,” he said, stroking the catgirl’s hair. “Do you see how small she is, compared to me?”

“Y-you people are giants,” Lresse said. Her folk ran to about four and a half feet high, maybe five for the tallest.

“Yes, compared to you, we certainly are,” he agreed. He raised a hand and brought it down in a loud smack across his catgirl’s bottom, drawing a mewling sound of pleasure.

“And yet look at how easily her hole takes me. How flexible she is, how perfectly compatible she is for my enjoyment.”

Lresse looked.

It was true.

She swallowed, her mouth dry.

“And look at how much joy and fulfillment she’s getting out of it.”

“You’ve drugged her,” Lresse said, but the lie was feeble in her mouth.

The ambassador laughed. “Poor lost lamb. Too stubborn to admit what you know is true.”

“I am a princess of the Sreethar and you will address me as-” she began, her hackles raising.

“Do you have any idea how many races exactly like yours we’ve encountered as the Terran Domination has spread across the stars?” he broke in, his voice hard.

“Exactly like ours?” Lresse repeated, confused.

“Yes. Small. Flexible. Easily led. Easily fucked. All female, and oh so eager to be ravaged by our human cocks.”

Lresse’s cheeks burned at his characterization of her race, but it was hard to deny watching the depraved scene in front of her. She thought she recognized the feline mounting him, some lesser countess or some such minor nobility.

“The Sreethar Solar Union, this petty little collection of a few planets and perhaps ten billion of you tiny sluts… We have encountered over two dozen discrete alien races exactly like you.”

Lresse’s eyes widened. “Two dozen?”

The ambassador nodded. “Not all kittens like you, of course. There are elves, and goblins, and angels and any number of other flavors, but they all fit that profile. And do you know, there’s a curious commonality in all of your origin myths. Do you know what it is?”

The princess could guess. “Wicked giants from the stars,” she said. “Who left after a war in heaven.”

The ambassador’s teeth glittered. “Giants from the stars,” he agreed. “It dovetails with some evidence from Terra, you know. Ancient, planet-wide burn layers, exotic metals buried deep. Artifacts from Luna and the rest of our system.”

Lresse’s skin prickled at the implications of what she was hearing.

“Something destroyed our ancient empire, Lresse,” the ambassador said softly. “And now that we’re taking it back, what do we find? All these soft, biddable, breakable sluts.”

“That’s doesn’t necessarily mean what you’re saying,” Lresse said.

“We put you here, you stupid alien cunt,” he replied flatly. “We’ve done the DNA tests. You are a bioengineered race of sex slaves, and thirteen thousand years ago one of you sets of sluts, I don’t know which, betrayed us and bombed us into a genetic bottleneck.”

There was a hard, bitter edge to his voice.

“I’m not enhanced, Lresse,” he said. “I’m not a warrior, or a cyborg, or using combat drugs. But I understand revenge. And look what I can do to you weaklings.”

For a few moments, he pounded as hard as he could into the catgirl on his lap, the girl who had been a countess, who had been nobility, who had been rich and important.

She flopped like a rag doll, and as the ambassador groaned and climaxed in her tight catgirl ass, he stood up.

With almost no perceivable effort, he took her neck in one hand, pulled her off his cock, and slammed her head into the wall so hard that Lresse could hear the girl’s skull crack.

Countess Hara, she finally remembered. Her name is Hara.

Stupid babbles fell from Hara’s lips, accompanied by bubbles of saliva and blood, and the ambassador pounded her head into the wall again, and again, her body jerking and flopping in his grasp, cum dripping from her ass as she shuddered and babbled her agony.

“Do you see, princess?” the ambassador said, looking at her.

The thing in his grasp still had the body of a catgirl, but the head was battered into unrecognizability. One eye still wandered randomly around the room, and then the ambassador lifted her in both hands and brought her down hard across his knee, breaking her back.

He flung her into the corner to twitch, and bleed, and moan, and die.

“She was a person,” Lresse said, but her voice carried no conviction.

“She was a useless, stupid, weak thing to fill with my cum,” the human countered.

Lresse withered in the face of the iron-hard fervor in his voice.

“But what happened to that creature isn’t what you should be concerned about,” he continued. “Rather, let’s discuss the original question you came here for. You wanted to know what happened to all those feline cunts we’re shuttling offworld to visit the rest of the Domination.”

The princess shrank down into her chair, breathing hard.

“Wait, that’s not necessary, I w-won’t tell…”

He reached over the table and hauled her towards him. She screamed and scratched at him, and it took her some time to realize her claws weren’t extended.

She had just barely enough time to wonder why she hadn’t extended her claws when two of the human’s fingers thrust into her, and her world turned into a sizzling heat that melted her brain as the orgasm that had been stealthily building inside her hit her nervous system hard.

“Our marines work up a lot of stress, in our campaigns against the more warlike races,” the ambassador said as he pumped his fingers into the spasming catgirl princess. “Unfortunately, you little cunts don’t last long in the stress relief racks, so we have to keep up a steady supply.”

Stress relief racks, Lresse thought. An image popped into her head of a row of dozens of her kind bent over, bound into metal racks, humans rutting into them over and over, raping them full of their hot, white cum.

She came again, hard, and then the ambassador slammed his fist into the side of her head and everything went black.