Request: “Power Rangers imagines: …Stingrage.” Fun thing about writing for monster men is you learn biology facts. Rays are batoids/batomorphi. Another fun thing is that you learn that what you think should be a word, like batomorphic, isn’t. Sting Rage/Stingrage isn’t that batomorphic, anyway. But if he’s like Vexacus down there…
Most men, even monster men, should have backed off when presented with a taser. Unsure if the alien recognized it as a weapon, you turned it on. Neither of you spoke as the sparks provided the sole artificial light in the woods. The moon was near full. Besides its effect on the tides, moonlight made it easier for predators to spot prey. And got certain ocean life in the mood.
Despite the name, Sting Rage didn’t seem very aquatic to you. Aside from his trident. Later you’d learn his attempts at courtship were batoid. But pupiless eyes and a respirator made it impossible to tell Poisandra’s underling had been interested in you from the get-go.
Red’s right, you thought. Sting Rage does kinda resemble an “overgrown insect.”
Maybe there was some shrimp DNA in there. What with the antennae. Truth be told, the villain interested you a little. He just had so many cool features cobbled together. Maybe they weren’t antennae and a trident, but horns and a pitchfork. The faces composing his armor evoked the screaming damned. Flames and all. What you initially figured was tubing looked corniculate up close.
Okay, enough waxing poetic, you thought, glancing at the moon again.
Meanwhile, Sting Rage’s thoughts on your appearance weren’t nearly as complicated. Sparks were flying and he was horny. The electronic currents you were giving off were irresistible. If he had stopped to think, Sting Rage might have realized that wasn’t bioelectricity. But the taser’s distant shock had so stimulated his ray instincts, he may have just lodged a stinger in your back and fucked you senseless anyway. If he’d suspected you were just trying to defend yourself at that moment.
You were an acquaintance of the Rangers. Yet you’d sent out a very clear signal you wanted to mate. With him, of all choices. He stepped closer. You braced yourself to be impaled with his weapon. Then he laid his trident against a tree before continuing his advance.
With a sinking feeling, you realized the battery might run out. And he clearly had decided you weren’t a threat, as he was even removing his mask!
Sting Rage shot you a benevolent smile. He couldn’t sense the current anymore. This would be his first time mating with a human. He wondered if it would be your first time interspecifically, too. Maybe you weren’t used to this kind of foreplay. But he was glad you initiated this. Up close, he could see how nervous you were. Male humans tended to have only one penis, right? Hopefully you wouldn’t be overwhelmed by two.
“Please,” you pleaded, switching the taser on again. It probably looked pathetic; brandishing a weapon he clearly wasn’t afraid of while begging for your life.
Oh no. His partner wasn’t able to produce a charge on her own. She had to use some kind of tool to gain his attention. Sting Rage’s heart swelled with pity. And desire. How thoughtful of you! Even with your apparent inexperience with his species’ copulatory habits, you were courting him! Humans didn’t have anything like an estrus. They were ready to go whenever. Yet you were coming onto Sting Rage during his mating season!
What happened next made you drop your taser.
He ducked down and nipped at your chest.
Before your mouth could form words, his attacked again. Even in your confusion, you could guess Sting Rage was a little frustrated by the layers.
And he was! The cups wouldn’t even let him bite your pecs through the shirt’s fabric. If he managed to satisfy you enough, get you to agree to be his mate, then you might agree to work for Poisandra. So she could take you shopping. He knew from accidentally walking in on her and Sledge that the bustier unzipped easily and the black top, which showed underboob, was very removable as well.
“Okay,” you drawled, pocketing the taser. I clearly misread the situation.
“You can keep that out if you want,” he replied, burying his face between your tits. “If you need.”
“You’d have to get off.”
“I’m trying. If you could be so kind as to remove your bra, I can complete our mating ritual.”
“What kind of mating ritual involves a taser?”
It took him a second to put two and two together.
“That’s not a sex toy?”
“What?”