To Kneel Before a King

In the dimly lit chambers of Proximus' fortress, the air was heavy with the scent of incense and power. The towering ape lord, draped in resplendent ornaments that shimmered faintly in the firelight, sat upon a throne-like chair of intricately carved wood. Mae was shoved unceremoniously to her knees before him. Her wrists were bound, her spirit defiant despite the fear that coursed through her veins.

Proximus rose, his imposing figure casting a long shadow that swallowed the room. His amber eyes gleamed with curiosity and calculated menace as he studied the human woman. Her face, though streaked with the grime of her capture, retained a certain quiet dignity that intrigued him.

"Human," he began, his voice low and guttural, with the measured cadence of one accustomed to commanding respect. "You defy me. My scouts tell me you know the ruins. That you have skills. Yet you hide them. Why?"

Mae's jaw tightened. "I will not help you destroy what is left of my people," she said, her voice steady though her heart raced. "Kill me if you must, but I will not betray them."

Proximus' lips curled into a cold smile, his sharp teeth briefly visible. "Death... is a release. A mercy. I do not grant mercy so freely." He stepped closer, his heavy footsteps a deliberate warning. Mae's stomach twisted as his shadow engulfed her, his scent and presence overwhelming.

He gestured towards her with one massive hand. "Take her," he growled to the guards. "To my chambers. Make her ready."

The guards seized Mae by her arms, their strength far greater than hers. She struggled, but it was like fighting against stone. Fear surged as they dragged her from the hall, Proximus' deep, menacing laughter echoing behind her.

When Mae was brought into Proximus' private quarters, she scarcely recognized herself. Her hair had been washed and combed, her face scrubbed clean. She wore a simple, flowing garment that felt alien against her skin. The room was a strange mix of primal and regal—animal skins lined the floor, and the walls bore artifacts from both ape and human origins. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows that danced like ghosts.

Proximus stood by the fire, his back to her. He turned as she was brought in, dismissing the guards with a flick of his hand. When the door shut behind them, the silence was heavy.

"Do you know," he rumbled, his tone contemplative but tinged with something darker, "of the human leaders... the emperors? They ruled all. Took what they wished. Called it their right."

Mae's defiance had not dimmed. She glared at him, refusing to cower. "I know they were tyrants. And you are no different."

Proximus stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "You refuse to serve me as I wish," he said, each word deliberate, like a stone dropped into water. "But you will serve. As those emperors had their concubines, so too will I."

Mae's breath caught, her stomach churning with a mix of anger and revulsion. She stepped back instinctively, but Proximus followed, his presence as unyielding as a tide.

"This is no honor," she spat, her voice trembling. "It is barbarism."

Proximus' chuckle was low and humorless. "Barbarism... Civilization... Are they not the same? Strength rules. The weak... endure. This is the way of all things."

Mae's fists clenched at her sides. "I will not break," she said, her voice firm despite the tears stinging her eyes. "No matter what you do, I will not break."

Proximus' gaze darkened, his amusement vanishing. "We shall see," he said, his tone cold and final. "We shall see."

Mae glared at Proximus, her chest heaving with the effort of suppressing her rage and fear. Her voice cut through the heavy air like a blade. "Go to hell," she spat, the venom in her words unmistakable.

The room seemed to freeze for a moment, the crackling fire in the hearth the only sound. Proximus' amber eyes darkened, his gaze locking onto Mae with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. Without a word, he moved—a blur of muscle and controlled fury. Before Mae could react, his powerful hands grasped the delicate fabric of her gown, and with a swift, brutal motion, it was torn from her body.

The sound of ripping cloth echoed in the chamber, a sharp contrast to the suffocating silence that followed. Mae gasped, instinctively crossing her arms over herself, her skin exposed to the cold air and the unyielding scrutiny of the ape lord. Her face burned with humiliation, but her glare remained unwavering.

Mae was fit, her figure athletic yet curvaceous, with well-toned limbs and full, well-proportioned breasts that spoke of her disciplined life in the human enclave. Unlike the apes, she and the other intelligent humans meticulously removed all body hair—a ritual of separation and identity, a way to assert their humanity in a world that had blurred the lines. Her smooth, bare skin was now a stark contrast to the coarse fur of her captor.

Proximus' gaze lingered on her, a mixture of curiosity and predatory intent. He leaned down, his massive hand gripping her chin to tilt her face toward his. His breath, warm and heavy, fanned across her cheek as he spoke. "You are... fascinating human. Your kind clings to fragile symbols of difference. But here, those symbols mean nothing."

He moved closer, his lips descending toward hers with a deliberate slowness that sent Mae's pulse racing. Instinct took over. As his lips brushed hers, she turned her head sharply and sank her teeth into the soft flesh of his lower lip. Proximus roared in pain, the sound reverberating through the chamber as he jerked back, blood welling from the wound.

Mae's defiance burned brightly in her eyes as she spat, "I'd rather die than let you take anything from me."

Proximus wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand, his expression darkening. The momentary flicker of amusement he had shown earlier was gone, replaced by cold, simmering anger. "You dare..." he growled, his voice a dangerous rumble. "If you will not submit willingly, I will ensure your spirit is broken."

He strode to the door and flung it open. "Sylva!" he bellowed, the name echoing down the corridors. Moments later, a massive figure filled the doorway. Sylva, the enormous gorilla responsible for Mae's capture, entered the room. His presence was overwhelming, his broad shoulders and towering frame dwarfing even Proximus. His dark eyes flicked to Mae, a mixture of duty and curiosity in his gaze.

"She is yours," Proximus commanded, stepping aside. "Teach her the price of defiance."

Proximus loomed over her, his breath heavy, his expression unreadable. "Defiance," he rumbled, his voice low and menacing. "A fire that burns bright... but fire can be tamed."

Mae's voice trembled with a mix of fury and fear. "You're a monster," she whispered, her words daring but edged with the fragility of her situation.

Proximus' lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. "Perhaps," he said, stepping back slightly, his gaze never leaving hers. "But monsters shape the world. And you, Mae, will learn to live within mine."

"You think I have no say in this?" she spat, her voice trembling only slightly as she forced the words past the lump in her throat. "That my body is just a tool for breeding?"

Proximus' lips curled into a faint smirk, but there was no amusement in it. "You've never had a say in this world, Mae. Your worth has always been measured by what you can give."

Her stomach churned, the weight of his words settling like a stone in her chest. She hated that he was right, hated the helplessness that crawled up her spine.

Sylva stepped forward, his cold eyes piercing through the tension in the air. His presence reminded her of the harsh truth she had been avoiding. His words were sharp and pragmatic, as always.

"Mae has the strength and the qualities Proximus seeks," Sylva said, his voice flat, emotionless. "It's what the tribe needs. You know as well as I do, your feelings won't change the needs of this arrangement."

Mae's eyes snapped to Sylva, betrayal flashing through her veins like fire. She had trusted him—believed he saw her as more than just a means to an end. But now, in this cold reality, it seemed she had always been just another tool to be used.

"No," she whispered, the word a jagged breath. "Nooooooo... I won't be this."

Sylva's shadow seemed to grow, his presence suffocating as he reached out, his hand a thick, unyielding force. "You will be," he said, his voice like a promise and a threat all at once. "You will be everything the tribe needs, whether you accept it or not."

"You don't have to wear clothes again," Sylva said in the most un-sexy voice. "The king wants you easily accessible." I hung my head as I felt his hand open the waist rope and cut through, turning me to cut the back. They clung to my legs still, a reminder that I hadn't pleased him. Her loin clothes were cut at the sides and rubbed against his lips as they were pulled through my legs, then dropped, and discarded.

She was bound, virtually naked, stripped unceremoniously. She stood not daring to look at her captor. Suddenly his hand cupped her pussy. She couldn't pull back because of the wall behind her.

"You are leaking!" Sylva laughed. She wanted to cry in shame. She felt her slipperiness against his fingers and he slid it inside her. For some reason, he kissed her and her body pushed up to his as well as it could with no hands to hold him. "You really are in heat, Human! Your body…your nipples!"

Mae's face reddened immediately. She knew he was right. What was wrong with her? She wanted to defend herself but found herself opening and closing her mouth without being able to. She…. felt like a whore! Her pussy was gushing, her nipples were rock hard. She really wanted to be made love to just then, her body needed it. She was really horny and she knew my body showed it.

"Human, you want this. Don't you?" Eventually, she nodded imperceptibly. "SAY IT."

"Yes."

"Sentences. Answer in sentences."

"Yes. I need... this. Please."

"Again. Fuller." She wanted to crawl into a hole in the ground.

" I can't ignore it anymore...," She repeated foolishly. She looked down at his hand and whispered "The heat. My body wants what it wants." She was so horny and at the same time so embarrassed because she was saying such words. She desperately wanted him to give her an orgasm. It all seemed like a dream. It seemed like a fantasy. She couldn't touch herself because she was bound. It had to be him. She needed him to. She began to move up and down on his fingers, fucking them. She felt so wrong and yet She was really needy. "Please."

"Please what?"

"Please. Please." She heard herself pleading. Asking for it. Desperate for sex. Virtually naked, with only tatters of clothes on her knees whilst Proximus watched how easily the human was breaking.

"Say properly."

"Please. Please Sylva. Let me cum. I need to cum. I need you to give it to me."

"Not yet whore. No, not yet, but you're learning. You need to beg when you need it." She sobbed softly. "You are a whore, aren't you?"

"Yes. Yes. I am a whore." She would have said anything just then, but, oh god, yes, she was a whore. A dirty whore. What other kind of human would get so wet like this, because of a gorilla'. How had it happened? How had she gotten into this? She could feel her hands tied, her breasts bouncing, her thighs sticky, her hips jerking, her arousal still growing.

"Human you smell. Thick in air. Your body speaks, not with words, but with... need. Do you like being naked for King, being tied up, being a good submissive concubine?" His hands were on her breasts. She could feel them on her, not needing her permission, caressing, squeezing, so aware of his touch. She could feel her heart pumping so loudly in her ears.

"Yes. Oh, Please." He looked at her and she knew. She needed to speak more fully. "Yes, I like being tied and naked for the king. It excites me."

Proximus' gaze swept over Mae like a predator inspecting its prey. He stepped forward, his towering figure looming over her. His expression twisted into something darker, his lips curling into a mocking grin.

"Ah, the weak human," he chuckled, his voice low and filled with cruel amusement. "You thought you had a choice?" He circled her slowly, his eyes never leaving her form. "Now, you're mine to command, to break."

Mae's chest tightened as she held his gaze, anger, and fear battling within her. But Proximus, sensing her resistance, leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear.

"Isn't it time, then? Ready to be my concubine?" he mocked, his fingers suddenly gripping the curve of her nipples, squeezing rhythmically, with cruel deliberation. His touch was rough, possessing, as though he owned her with each press of his fingers.

"Good," Proximus purred, savoring the fear in her eyes. "I'm sure we can find many inventive ways of making you realize your place." His other hand trailed down her body, brushing her pussy as though testing the limits of her resistance. "You're going to be an obedient little thing, Mae. After all, you'll learn to accept your discomfort." He leaned closer, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice a dark whisper. "You might have to put up with it. But I'm sure you'll survive."

His fingers moved again, this time more insistently, exploring her in ways that made her skin crawl. "You know," he continued, his voice thick with amusement, "Humans shouldn't have been making those basic decisions about yourself as a whore. You don't get to choose anymore, Mae. That's my job now."

Proximus had been thinking about this since he first laid eyes on Mae. "You'll learn your place, little human," he murmured, his tone dark and filled with the promise of control. "And when you do, you'll understand why your defiance means nothing. Your body is mine to command now."

Sylva, watching with detached satisfaction, felt no need to interfere further. Mae's body was now in the position where Proximus had always intended her to be—submissive, broken, and at his mercy.

Now it was time. Proximus spat in the palm of his right hand, wet the head of cock, and while Sylva held her head, Proximus took his cock in his hand and set the head between her soft lips.

"Ungh," he grunted as he pressed between her lips.

"NO!" Mae screamed as she felt the sponge-head of his cock spreading her mouth.

She tried to scream again when she felt the dick begin to reach her throat.

"Oh YES!" Proximus sneered as he lifted his hips – then forced himself into her.

"Agghhhh!" Mae moaned in defeat as she felt the cock enter her throat.

He lifted again and pressed another inch inside.

"Ughhh!" Mae pleaded.

Proximus laughed. And began to slowly thrust his cock into her mouth again and again. Her mouth pussy was so tight he could barely get in. He began to pump slowly, fighting to get more in.

Once he was halfway in he began to slowly fuck inside her mouth.

"Please!" she begged again. "Don't do this!"

Proximus ignored her cries and began to force his dick in her mouth with deep thrusts.

"Ungh ungh ungh," Mae grunted with each thrust of his cock as she felt the hard probe slide farther up her throat.

Proximus reached up and gripped her breasts. He used her tits for handles as he fucked her. She grunted and moaned letting nature take its course.

Then, a minute later, she felt him shove deep and stop. She knew why and began to cry. And as she feared, he started to cum in her mouth.

He led me across the room by her nipples. He took her to the table and lay her face down. The surface felt so cool against her heated breasts and the hot cum leaking face. She was very aware of her hands still tied behind her, her bottom sticking up, her vulnerability, her lack of any control.

Proximus spread her legs with one of his feet making me feel even more exposed. She could imagine how She looked. Her bare wet pussy showed clearly in front of the things she hated the most.

She arched her hips higher. Felt his hard flesh. He opened her and slowly pushed it deep inside her, a spear deep inside, a spear nailing his prize, her womb. She was lubricated for him, he felt big. She was wet so he didn't find it difficult to enter me, she was easy. An easy whore. She cried out softly as she felt him fill her. His length opened her vagina and then fucked her. His flesh pulsing inside her. Her vagina in spasm along his length.

"I like you as whore then concubine. Do you want to be a good whore." His cock slid in and out now exquisitely slowly, almost torturing her. "My good whore?"

"Oh yes. I do. I want… be want to be… whore." Breathing was hard. Words were more difficult for Mae. The very idea that she was being fucked whilst tied filled her head almost as much as the feeling of Proximus's cock possessing her. She couldn't be held responsible, strangely she felt freed by being bound.

Mae shivered with both excitement and fear and She forgot she was a nice girl and became his wanton whore. She groaned as he stopped again, pleaded until he began moving again, though only a little. Finally, he began to fuck her, really fuck her, and she cried out his name and vulgar words and her needs and things she knew not. He fucked her passive body that could only receive what he wished to give.

She came thrice as his slick cock pounded her. He came too. She wasn't sure if his cumming gave her greater satisfaction than her own but it felt he liked it. He pulled his cock from her pussy and she cried out feeling the void left by his hardness.

Her head was lifted and Sylva pressed her mouth from the other side of the table until she realized what was needed and what was in front of her eyes. She took Proximus's cock covered by secretions from both him and her and Sylva's pre cum covered dick in her mouth. She savored them, cleansing them. She had never done that before, taking cocks still covered in either her or their juices. The taste of human and their strong muskiness in her mouth. Separate tastes, blending as one. It felt like an incredibly dirty thing to do. She loved it.

He told her to stay in that position, leaving her over the table as she gagged on their dicks. The weight of his command hung heavily in the air, but she was content, in a strange way, as the pulses ran throughout her body, and her used body rested. She felt his semen leak from her pussy and drip down her thighs.

At first, she was mortified but gradually accepted even this humiliation as she had to accept that she had no choice. She began to accept her docility, her acceptance. It didn't feel wrong, bad, and naughty perhaps, but she felt somehow content and safe.

Proximus stood silently behind me, watching with a cold, calculating gaze as he watched his whore gagging on his cock. He didn't need to speak again—his presence alone was enough to remind me of my place, the role of whore she was forced to accept. The weight of his control pressed down on her, unrelenting, suffocating. And yet, even as my body screamed for relief, there was a part of me that resisted, still defiant, still refusing to accept that this was my fate.

But in the quiet moment, his words cut through the silence, sharp and final.

"In the morning," Proximus's low and commanding voice rumbled, "you will let us into the human vault. You will open the door for us, Mae."

She wanted to scream, to resist, to deny but the words died in her throat as she turned her head, my eyes locking onto his. His gaze was unwavering, cold as steel, and the anger within her swelled—fueled by humiliation, by the weight of what he had forced her to endure.

She was trembling, her mouth and pussy sore, but there was still a flicker of fire in her heart. Despite it all, I refused to let him break me completely.

She met his eyes, her face flushed with a mixture of anger and submission, and with her pride still intact—though barely—she spoke, the words laced with venom.

"Yes, my king."

The phrase left her lips, heavy with disdain, yet unmistakably obedient. It was a promise wrapped in defiance, a hollow agreement, but it was all she could give. He had won for now.

Proximus' lips curled into a cruel smile, satisfied with my response, his eyes gleaming with victory.

"Good," he said, the word dripping with condescension. "We'll see how well you comply tomorrow, Mae."

The mockery in his expression only deepened at my tone, but he said nothing. There was nothing more to say. I had already given him what he wanted.

The silence settled again, thick and suffocating, as she remained continuing to service her King's cock.

---

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