Chapter 5: The Throne of Submission
The Crystal Throne Room had never felt so warm.
Donna noticed it as she led Ultraman toward the obsidian seat, her hand wrapped around his, their fingers interlaced in a way that would have been unthinkable just weeks ago. The emerald pillars that lined the chamber pulsed with a gentle rhythm, as if they were breathing in time with the child growing inside her. Even the jagged veins of gold running through the throne itself seemed to glow brighter, alive with an energy that she had never bothered to acknowledge before.
She paused at the base of the dais, turning to face him. He was watching her with that expression she had grown to recognize—the one that
made her feel like she was the most powerful being in existence and the most vulnerable at the same time.
"You're nervous," he observed, a hint of amusement coloring his voice.
"I'm not nervous." She lifted her chin in defiance. "I just want to make sure you understand what's about to happen here."
"And what's that?"
She took a step closer, pressing her body against his. Through the thin silk of her gown, she felt the hard planes of his chest, the heat radiating off him like a furnace with no intention of cooling.
"I'm going to claim you," she murmured, her lips brushing against his ear. "Not as a conquering queen claiming her prize." Her breath shortened: "but as a woman whose body is already carrying your seed. I'm going to ride you on that throne until you can't remember your own name, and I'm going to whisper every filthy promise I've ever made to you while I do it."
His hands found her hips, gripping her with a possessiveness that sent a shiver down her spine. "Is that supposed to scare me?"
"Make you regret everything you've ever done to deserve this."
"I don't regret a single moment with you." His lips found her neck, hot and demanding, leaving trails of fire in his wake. "And I'm not going to start now."
She let out a breath that was half laugh, half moan. "Then prove it."
She stepped back from him, reaching for the clasps of her gown with deliberate slowness as she backed up the dais steps, giving him a show.
Each fastener released with a soft click, revealing more of her pregnant form—the heavy swell of her belly, the fullness of her breasts, the way her body had changed, had become something new and powerful in its own right. The gown pooled at the top of the steps, leaving her standing naked before him, moonlight from the crystal ceiling painting her in shades of silver and gold.
His breath caught as he took her in, his eyes traveling over her with a reverence that made her feel like a goddess rather than a warrior. She watched him watching her, and for a moment, she wondered if this was what it felt like to be truly seen.
"Come here," she commanded softly. "Come sit on your throne."
He obeyed without hesitation, climbing the steps with measured strides until he stood before the obsidian seat. But instead of sitting, he caught her wrist and pulled her into his arms, his mouth finding hers in a kiss that was almost desperate in its tenderness.
"When did you become so soft?" he asked when they finally parted, his voice barely above a whisper. "When did you start looking at me like I matter?"
She traced the line of his jaw with her fingertips, marveling at the strength she could feel even through the lightest touch.
"The moment I realized you weren't going to break," she said. "The moment I understood that you were strong enough to carry my weight without crumbling. The moment I knew I could let you in without losing myself."
He kissed her again, slower this time, savoring the taste of her. His hands roamed her body with reverence, tracing the curve of her spine, the swell of her hips, the taut skin of her stomach where their child had taken root.
"I never thought I'd have this," he admitted, his voice rough. "I never thought I'd have someone who could match me, challenge me, see me for who I really am and still choose to stay."
"Choose to stay?" She laughed softly against his lips. "I'm not staying, you idiot. I'm claiming you and everything you are. You're mine now, in ways you can't even begin to understand."
She pushed him down onto the throne, and he went willingly, sprawling across the obsidian seat with a look of anticipation that made her core ache. She stood before him, allowing him to look his fill, her belly proud and prominent.
"Perfect," he breathed. "You're so fucking perfect."
"I know." She knelt on the throne, straddling his thighs, her knees bracketing his hips. Through the thin fabric of his pants, she felt the hard line of his cock, straining to be freed. She ground her slick folds against the rough material of his pants, letting out a low moan into his mouth.
"You like teasing me," he rumbled. His hands came up to cup her heavy breasts, his thumbs circling her aching nipples. "You get off on making me wait."
"Of course I do." She rolled her hips against him, feeling the delicious friction of fabric against her swollen clit. "I'm a woman who knows what she wants. And what I want is to watch you lose control beneath me."
"Then do it. Take what you want."
She reached between them, her hand sliding past the waistband of his pants. Her fingers wrapped around his rigid cock, and she let out a satisfied hum at the heat of his flesh in her palm.
"You're so hard for me already," she murmured, stroking him from base to tip. Her thumb swept across the sensitive head, spreading the bead of moisture that had gathered there. "So eager. Do you like the idea of me being in control? Being filled with my child?"
"Mother of the next Kryptonian." His voice cracked. "Donna, what are you doing to me?"
"I'm making you feel alive." She guided him to her entrance, pressing the head of his cock against her slick folds. "I'm making you feel something other than the emptiness that comes from conquering worlds. I'm giving you a reason to be more than just a weapon."
She sank down onto him in one slow, deliberate motion, and they both moaned in unison. In it, he bottomed out inside her. His hands gripped her hips, fingers digging into her flesh with strength that bordered on pain—but she welcomed it.
"Fuck," he breathed out. "You feel so good. Like you were made to take all of me."
"I was."
She began to move, setting a slow, grinding rhythm that had her clit dragging against his pubic bone every time she rolled her hips. Her inner walls clenched around him, drawing him deeper still, as if her body refused to let go of its prize.
When she leaned forward, his hands released her hips, and he traced lines reverently over her stomach, where their child was growing.
"I can feel us," he said, wonder in his voice. "I can feel you and them and me, all together."
"That's right." She rode him faster, her breath coming in short gasps. "I'm going to give you everything, Ultraman. Everything you ever wanted and everything you didn't know you needed."
"Donna—"
"I mean it." She grabbed his jaw, forcing him to keep watching her as she moved above him. "This child we're creating in my womb? It's not going to be a conqueror or a destroyer. It's going to be a ruler, yes, but with mercy. It's going to break the cycle of pain we were forged in."
"How?"
"Because we're going to teach it." Her voice cracked with emotion. "We're going to teach it that love isn't weakness. That strength means knowing when to spare, not just when to strike. We get to be the ones who write their story."
Something shifted in his eyes at those words. She watched him process them, watched the walls he had built around himself begin to crack.
He suddenly flipped their positions, pressing her back against the obsidian throne as he thrust up into her.
"You," he said between powerful strokes, "are going to be the death of me."
"I'm not letting you die." She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper with every thrust, feeling him hit the deepest part of her again and again. "You're going to live forever. You're going to watch our child grow and rule and become something neither of us could have imagined. You're going to hold my hand as we grow old together, and you're going to remember this moment."
"This moment?"
"When you realized that love is the most powerful force in the universe." Her hands dug into his shoulders as another orgasm crested. "More powerful than kryptonite. More powerful than any lasso. It's going to be our legacy."
He drove into her harder. She let herself feel every inch of him, each thrust a vow being written into her flesh.
"Come with me," she gasped. "Fill me again. I want to feel you pour yourself into me."
The filth and tenderness in her command sent him over.
"Look at me," he growled. "Look at me while we come together."
She obeyed. Their eyes locked and held. She shattered with a cry that echoed through the crystal chamber; he stiffened above her, a groan torn from his throat. His climax flooded her, and she felt it all.
Their release pulsed together, filling her beyond what was possible. She cried out as he shuddered above her, as their child shifted with them in a rhythm that was primal and profound.
When it was over, he collapsed against her, his face buried in the curve of her neck. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him there with a tenderness that surprised even her.
"I feel them," she finally whispered. "Not just the baby but us—like we're becoming something new, something made from choices we didn't know we could make."
He raised his head to look at her, his eyes still bright with the aftermath, but his gaze had turned gentle. "I didn't know I could feel this way. I didn't think I was capable of loving anyone like this."
"Neither did I." She traced her fingers down his spine, feeling the tension that still lived beneath the surface of his skin. "But here we are. Proving the universe wrong, one impossible choice at a time."
He rested his forehead against hers, breathing her in, savoring her like the rarest resource in the cosmos.
"I'm going to love this child," he said, his voice barely audible.
"I know you will—I know you already do, even before it's born." She kissed him softly, a promise sealed.
The Crystal Throne Room pulsed around them, its light dimming now to a gentle glow. They remained wrapped in each other, tangled on the cold obsidian seat, and for the first time in their lives, conquering the universe seemed like less of a priority than protecting the fragile, beautiful thing they had found in each other.
Outside, the world they ruled continued to spin. And inside, a future neither had allowed themselves to imagine was taking shape, growing strong in the warmth of their embrace.
The quiet after their climax had a texture of its own.
Donna lay sprawled across Ultraman's chest, her ear pressed to the steady thrum of his heart. The obsidian throne had grown warm beneath them, absorbing their heat like a living thing. She could feel their mingled fluids cooling on her thighs, a testament to the raw act they had just shared, and she found she didn't want to move, didn't want to break the spell that had settled over them.
"We should bathe," he murmured, his fingers tracing lazy patterns across her back.
"In a minute." She pressed a kiss to his collarbone. "I'm not finished with you yet."
His laugh rumbled through his chest, a sound she was beginning to crave. "You're insatiable."
"Always." She shifted, wincing as his semi-hard cock slipped out of her. She positioned herself above him, sliding down his body until her swollen belly rested against his thighs. "But right now, I need something different."
He propped himself up on his elbows, watching her with a mixture of curiosity and hunger. "What do you need?"
She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she crawled up his body, her heavy breasts brushing against his skin as she moved. The sensation was electric, her nipples hardening to aching points as they dragged across the hard planes of his chest. A low groan escaped him with each brush of contact.
By the time she reached his face, the ache in her breasts had become an almost unbearable pressure. A translucent golden liquid began to bead at her nipples, spreading across her dark areolae.
"Donna," he breathed. "What is that?"
"Kryptonian milk."
"We know our children are powerful. But this"—she cupped her breast, watching the viscous gold drip down her fingertips with some surprise—"is different."
He reached up to touch the bead of milk on her nipple, lifting his finger to inspect it. The substance shimmered in the chamber's light, thick and luminescent.
"It smells like kryptonite," he said, realization coloring his voice with awe. "Like the radiation that gives me strength."
"Exactly. Our child needs proper sustenance."
She pressed the head of her engorged nipple against his lips, smearing the golden milk across the seam of his mouth.
"Drink." The command was soft but absolute.
Ultraman's eyes darkened as he opened his mouth. He took her nipple between his lips, drawing the milk into his mouth slowly.
The effect was immediate and violent.
His body convulsed as liquid power flooded his veins, raw and potent, more intense than any radiation he had harvested. His cock hardened instantly, years of power surging through his bloodstream. He groaned against her breast as he swallowed, his hands gripping her hips with almost punishing strength.
"What the fuck—" he gasped when he finally released the nipple. "What the absolute fuck is in that?"
"Power." She switched sides, guiding his mouth to her other breast. "The concentrated essence of a Kryptonian child and an Amazonian mother. Drink it all. Don't let a drop fall."
He obeyed, sucking greedily this time. She watched him feed from her, and something primal stirred deep in her gut. This was more intimate than sex, more raw than any coupling she had ever experienced. He was not just taking pleasure from her body but sustenance, power, connection.
"That's it," she whispered, her fingers threading through his hair. "Drink. Enjoy it. I'm going to make sure you never hunger for anything else."
He released her breast with a wet pop, golden milk still glistening on his lips. His eyes burned up at her with heat she hadn't seen before.
"You have no idea what you just did to me," he said. His voice was rougher, deeper, like her milk had taken him to a new plane of consciousness.
"Then show me."
In a flash, his hands were on her thighs, pulling her down onto the obsidian floor. He pressed her against the cold stone, his body covering hers, and she felt the renewed hardness of his cock pressing against her wet slit with urgency she hadn't expected.
"That milk," he growled, thrusting his cock along her slick folds, coating himself in her arousal. "It's making me feel things I've never felt before. Like I could take the entire universe apart and put it back together just to prove I can."
"Then do it." She arched beneath him. "But first, you're going to fuck me until neither of us can walk."
He didn't need to be told twice.
He slammed into her, not the slow reverence of their earlier lovemaking but something rawer, more primal. The milk had awakened something in him—some ancient hunger that demanded satisfaction.
"Yes," she hissed, her nails raking down his back. "Fuck, yes. Just like that."
He drove into her relentlessly, each powerful stroke bottoming out inside her sensitive cunt. She was already close, her body still riding the waves of her previous orgasm.
"Look at you," she snarled, grabbing his hair and wrenching his head back. "Look at how desperate you are to mount me. Anyone seeing this would think I own you."
"You do," he grunted, slamming into her harder. "Every fucking inch of me. Own me. Claim me. Fucking take me."
Hearing the proudest Kryptonian in existence begging to be owned sent her over the edge. She came hard, her cunt clenching around his thick cock in violent waves. He followed immediately, roaring as he poured his seed into her, the milk's power making his climax more intense than any he'd experienced before.
For a long moment, they lay tangled together, panting, covered in sweat and their shared release.
Finally, something glinting near the base of the throne caught Donna's eye, glistening in the low light. It was a small link of golden chain. Her Lasso of Submission. It had fallen from its place during their passion.
She reached for it, wrapping the lasso around one wrist.
"Come here," she commanded softly.
He obeyed instantly, moving to kneel before her on the cold obsidian floor.
"Remember the first time I bound you with this?" she asked. "You fought it. You raged against it. You swore you would never kneel to anyone, even as I made you kneel before me."
"I remember." His jaw tightened. "I remember thinking I would rather die than submit. But then I felt it—that sense of peace, of release, of surrendering to something greater than myself."
"Do you still believe that? That submission is a kind of weakness?"
"I don't believe anything I used to believe." He reached for the lasso, running his fingers along its golden coils. "You've given me something I never knew I needed."
"And what's that?"
"A reason to be soft."
She bound the Lasso of Submission around his wrists, pulling his arms behind his back.
"Do you trust me?" she asked.
"With my life."
"Then this will be a lesson in trust."
She pushed him onto his back, rolling him onto the obsidian floor with a strength that made him groan. She knelt over him, bound hands still wrapped in the lasso.
For a moment, she simply looked at him. At this man who had conquered worlds, who had broken nations, who had never bowed to anyone until he met her. And now he lay before her, trust and devotion in his eyes.
"Did you ever imagine," she murmured—lowering her core onto his face, feeling his hot breath against her soaking folds as she did, "that your life would end up like this?"
"No," he managed, his voice muffled now against her wet cunt. "Never."
What if I told you this is only the beginning?"
He groaned; his tongue was already finding her. She sheathed two fingers inside herself, coating them with her own slick heat, then pressed them against his lips as he began to eat her out.
"Taste yourself on my fingers."
He sucked them in. His tongue worked against her clit with a hunger that bordered on worship. She rode his face with slow, deliberate movements, grinding against his mouth and nose, driving herself toward another orgasm.
"I want to be full," she breathed, pulling a heavy breast from the confines of her bra and pressing it to his mouth. "Drink while you taste me."
He paused, but he obeyed, suckling her golden milk while his tongue continued to fuck her. The sensation was overwhelming.
She shifted, swinging a leg over him and turning until she straddled his face, her knees on either side of his head. The new angle let him feast on her exposed sex while his bound hands strained against the Lasso of Submission behind his back. She sunk down on his mouth, grinding her swollen clit against his lips with an urgency she didn't bother to hide.
"That's it," she hissed. "The more you drink, the harder you're going to get. The harder you get, the longer you're going to last when I finally ride you again."
Her thighs trembled as another orgasm approached, her hips grinding in circles against his face. One hand reached back to stroke his hair, the other cradled her leaking breast.
"Don't stop," she commanded. "Don't you fucking stop, Ultraman. I want to feel your tongue on me while I come. I want to taste my pleasure on your lips."
Her climax crested, sharp and overwhelming. She cried out his name, her body spasming against his face as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through her. When her senses returned, he was still lapping at her, cleaning every drop of her release with reverence.
She turned to face him, positioning her wet, aching cunt over his rigid cock.
"I'm going to take you again," she said, positioning herself over him, the tip pressing against her entrance. "But this time, I want you to do something for me."
"Anything." His voice was hoarse. "Tell me what you need."
"Touch yourself," she commanded, reaching down to grasp his bound wrists. She tugged the Lasso of Submission free with a practiced flick, then guided his hands to his rigid length. "Stroke that cock. Let me watch what you do to yourself when you're thinking about me."
He wrapped his fist around his shaft and began to stroke, his eyes locked on her as she lowered herself onto him.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he growled. "So goddamn perfect."
Her breasts heavy with milk pressed against the contact of their bodies as he gulped greedily for more, the golden liquid staining his lips. He stroked himself inside her, matching his rhythm to hers.
"Fill me again," she begged. "Fill me until I'm dripping with every last drop of you."
She felt his hand on her stomach, feeling the swell of their child beneath the taut skin, moving as one.
"I want to watch you come inside me," she whispered. "I want to feel it. I want to know I'm the only one who can make you feel this way."
"You are." His voice cracked. "You're the only one who ever has."
She rode him harder, her inner walls clenching around him like a fist. He bit back a roar as his climax exploded inside her, his release hot and intense.
They collapsed together, limbs tangled, bodies slick with sweat and their combined release. The Lasso of Submission lay forgotten on the floor, its golden coils gleaming in the dim light.
For a long time, they lay in silence, listening to each other's breathing slowly return to normal.
"Donna?" His voice was soft, almost hesitant. "What are we going to name them?"
She lifted her head, meeting his eyes with surprise.
"We hadn't discussed that yet."
"Mar'i." He said the word with a certainty that made her chest tighten. "If it's a girl, I want to name her Mar'i."
"Mar'i," she repeated, testing the sound. "Mar'i. I like it."
"And if it's a boy?"
She paused, considering. "Might I suggest Kal-El?" He stared at her, shocked, and she continued, "It means 'voice of god' in your people's tongue. A fitting name for a child who will speak for a new world."
"Kal-El was my father's name."
"I know.
He was silent for a long moment, processing. "You want to honor him? After everything I've told you about him?"
"I want to honor the man who raised you to be strong enough to rule. And I want to honor the man you are now, the one who's going to raise our child to be merciful."
He leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes bright.
"Mar'i or Kal-El," he agreed, his voice thick with emotion. "Our legacy. Our hope."
"Our future," she finished: "A future we're building together, one impossible choice at a time."
Outside the Crystal Throne Room, the world continued to spin. Inside, on the cold obsidian floor of a fortress carved from ice and power, two warriors held each other close and dreamed of a life that held no need for war.