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Dark Lord Substitute

Chapter 26

By Draconicon

"This is taking too long," Bertram said, rubbing his neck as Mark offered him water. "We need to speed this up."

"It's only been a day, Master. Do you really think that you're going to convince them to surrender that fast?"

"I can hope."

He had to hope, for that matter. Grunting as he felt his throat trying to collapse from the sheer effort it had taken to keep speaking for the last ten hours, he took the cup of water and held it in the back of his throat. The ram gargled for a second, then spat it out to the side. The black floor of his quarters opened up for a split second, drained the liquid away, and then closed once more as if it had always been that way. The next mouthful was properly swallowed, and he shook his head.

Ten hours of giving a speech...I didn't know I could talk that long.

It had been ten hours interrupted at two points, admittedly. One point where the planetary leaders wanted to try and discredit him, going so far as to play various recordings from other wars and from the past. They showed how the Dark Lord committed various acts of atrocities in the past, and how he had gone through the act of declaring war to enslave the galaxy, trying to turn his words against him.

It hadn't worked for them. Bertram thanked the debate club and long hours talking to philosophy students for that. Stating the flaws of past leaders and the fact that slavery existed in the first place was not such an argument winner when he had plenty of examples of those very slaves asking for it.

He'd made sure to record those moments. Soledad hadn't been the only one to beg to become a slave for reasons of their own.

Swallow. Another mouthful that hurt going down as he thought of the other interruption. The Starry Sea had sent part of their fleet in to interrupt his speech with an actual attack, and had they been paying attention, it might have worked. They were positioned perfectly to come straight for him, their curved bows ready to deflect the Indoctrination signal before it could have any effect on them.

Sadly for them, they were paying more attention to the Indomitable than the rest of his small fleet. He'd managed to bounce the signal to one of his other ships and hit them from behind. It was not a total victory, but he had stolen no less than four cruisers, six squadrons of fighters, and a small carrier to go along with it all.

Nothing amazing, but nothing to sneeze at, either.

And the show of force had been perfect. It let them look like the aggressors while he only defended himself, and even more than that, it gave him numbers. And best of all - absolutely best of all - it was scary enough that they hadn't tried it again. They were not able to push past him, and they weren't able to come straight at him. They didn't have the numbers to hunt down the smaller craft that he'd scattered around their planet in orbit, not without leaving him an opening to shoot straight for the surface.

It was a stalemate. And that meant a lot of talking.

Bertram drained the glass, shaking his head as he put it aside. Mark sat with him at the edge of the bed, taking his hand.

"What are you going to do next, Master?"

"I need to keep sending messages."

"...Maybe it's time to -"

"If you say 'give up', please remember that's not an option for me."

The hyena reversed track quickly, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand. His general looked back at the elevator, sighed, and lowered his head.

"I just don't want to die. I don't want any of us to die."

"The feeling is mutual."

"I mean...isn't there something I can do?"

Bertram smiled, but shook his head. He'd considered every angle as carefully as he could, imagined all kinds of military responses that he might have been able to extrapolate from. There was only one way forward now that they were at such a numerical disadvantage.

"I doubt it. But I appreciate your well-wishes."

He squeezed Mark's hand, giving him as much reassurance as he could with the gesture. It was more than he had for himself.

"Get some rest," the ram said, patting the naked hyena on the ass. "We're going to have to find more stuff to talk about in the morning, and that's going to take some effort. I had to use a great deal of material today."

"...Is it really going to matter?" Mark asked, pausing at the door. "In the long run, is it going to matter?"

"...I think it will. If we can win here...how we win matters."

"But can we?"

"We haven't lost yet. Sleep."

Nodding, the hyena turned to leave. Bertram had a fleeting glance at his slave's ass before the doors closed, and he let the smile that he'd been forcing slip off his face. Gods, his throat hurt.

Sliding back onto his bed, he stared at the ceiling. They had time, but only so much of it. Seven days left now, effectively, and they had made no real progress in taking the planet. Oh, they'd managed to secure their place, but as soon as the rest of the enemy fleet mobilized - or until Wuroom managed to gather the Indoctrinated ships and follow him to Bareef - that advantage would go right out the window.

But...there was a chance.

They're questioning things now, wondering what it would be like under someone else's rule, he thought. They have to be. The lower officers on the call...they had the look of someone losing faith.

And if the officers were losing faith, that meant that those down on the planet were likely in a similar position. Even if those at the top of the food chain were still considering themselves in a better place, those that were under them might be starting to wonder if they had anything to lose by swapping sides. If he could just encourage that...

But how?

That was the question, wasn't it? How did he show that slavery on his side was a situation that wasn't so bad as the higher-ups were painting it? How did he show that slavery actually had rewards under him?

The answer came in a rather shocking twist, and he blinked at the ceiling as he turned the idea around in his head.

"...Well...that might work."

"You want me to what?"

"I want you to sit on my face, Zelda. And do it while we record it."

The hyena female's eyes were as wide as they could go, and no surprise. It wasn't exactly a request that he had been planning to make before last night, either.

Zelda turned on her heel, looking around the room. Mark was sitting in the corner covering his face, not daring to look at his naked sister and sitting with his legs crossed just enough to keep his own junk from popping into view, while Lazir was leaning against the wall and the door leading out of the Dark Lord's private quarters with a smile on his face and a camera in hand. The hyena female growled at him before turning back to Bertram.

"You better explain this, and now."

"..."

"Master," she corrected herself.

"That's better." Bertram sat down at the foot of his bed, crossing one leg over the other as the various pieces of his Dark Lord armor disappeared, sucked away until he was naked. It took some willpower to keep his face from going red, but he just about managed it. "We can all agree: Zelda is the picture of an unwilling slave."

"Which is why I don't understand why you'd want to show my sister to the planet," Mark said, still hiding behind one hand. "Doesn't that defeat the purpose?"

"Of showing them that slavery is enjoyable? Perhaps, if it was just your sister."

"...Please tell me you're not making me fuck her."

"Fuck off, Mark," Zelda muttered. "And don't give him ideas."

"He gets those all on his own."

"He's not wrong," the ram said. "But that's neither here nor there. What I want isn't your brother fucking you. I want to make a short recording showing that the Dark Lord allows his slaves a great many liberties if they behave."

"...So, does that mean -"

"It means that I might be persuaded to give you some of your freedoms back, Zelda, but only if you are willing to show that have learned something out of all this. I need your help, but there are others that can fulfill this role. None so well as you, but well enough." Bertram narrowed his eyes. "Are you going to help me...or are you going to prove that you never cared for anything other than the chance to get payback on everyone else in the galaxy?"

She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she looked back at her brother, then at Lazir. The fox kept his cocky grin, and she narrowed her eyes at him, and he could already feel her objections rising.

Bertram had various back-up plans if he needed them, concessions that he could offer and prices for them if Zelda started arguing too much. He wanted it to be her, and not just because of the way that it would be more genuine for the recording. If it was her, that meant that there was a chance of turning someone around.

And he wanted her on his side. For all her mistakes, he wanted her on his side.

Finally, she turned back to him, one hand on her hip, the other under her breasts. She smiled.

"So...I get to sit on your face. Anything else?" she asked.

"...A few other things."

"Tell me. I want to know."

"...Rimming, I suppose, obviously. Along with a command to enjoy it if you don't already."

"I do."

"Then that makes it simpler. Other than that...to be honest about what this means."

That was the key. If she could show how much it meant to her, honestly and truly in a way that showed through on the recording, then it might mean something to those down below. For that matter, it might be enough to twist those at the top, as well. A master letting his slave demean him? It would be unheard of, and yet, there it would be, recorded and reviewable as needed.

So long as she could actually sell it, it would shatter the preconceived notions on the planet below.

The chamber was silent. Zelda looked down at him, and he clenched his jaws to hold back any further explanations or requests. For all that she had to make the choice, he was done trying to persuade her. He had done everything that he reasonably could; if she wasn't willing to help now, then he wasn't going to waste any more time on her.

Mark looked past his shielding hand, and their eyes met. The other hyena was embarrassed, but also...thankful? Something along those lines, Bertram thought. The General had been concerned for his sister for some time and had probably been worried that she'd be left behind if she didn't change.

She might still be. Bertram couldn't afford to be too merciful these days.

Finally, the silence broke as she stepped forward. She smirked, even, putting her hands on his shoulders.

"Fine. I'll sit on your face."

"Ah. And?"

"...And show how good it feels."

"That's better. Lazir?"

"Ready when you are."

"On the bed, slightly off-screen," the ram muttered, nodding to the appropriate place. As Zelda moved into position, he leaned forward. Naked, cock half-hard, probably not the image of the Dark Lord that they were expecting on the planet below. That was good; he wanted them to be surprised. "And..."

"Go," the fox said, holding the camera up.

"People of Bareef. You are doubtlessly being told that there are no benefits to becoming a slave, that the universe that I propose is nothing but a life of horror and fear, of endless toil and drudgery beneath someone that would never care whether you lived or died. This is a lie."

Gesturing behind him, he waited until he could feel Zelda's hips near his hand and gave them a squeeze. They were plush, but hard muscle greeted his fingers when he squeezed hard enough. She chuckled, likely flashing the camera a confident smile. That was good. It was one more difference from the stories that the authorities were likely telling.

"This is Zelda Twist. Formerly an officer, but now a slave."

"Rrrr."

The growl was unfortunate, but it was something that could hopefully be played off as a sexy sound. He squeezed her ass a bit harder in warning, and the sound stopped.

"Though she betrayed me in a previous battle, I have kept her with me. And rather than leaving her in misery, I have given her the chance to learn to be better. More, I have given her the chance for pleasure.

"I am not the master that you have been taught to fear. I am something else, something different, something better. I am here to take away the shackles of hierarchy, and replace it with something that has but one person at the top, and that person will leave when the time is right. Until then, you will all be equal under me...and occasionally, over me."

He laid back, knowing that his cock was rising up further at the thought of what he was doing. It had become obvious ever since Soledad's submission that he had a thing for others seeing him in a sexual situation; exhibitionism was its own pleasure. This, however, was something...very different.

Zelda didn't have to be commanded, and in some ways, that was better. It allowed the camera to see that he would allow free actions, that he would let his slaves do things without being inherently commanded. If the people saw that, perhaps -

"Mmph."

He grunted as her spotted ass cheeks came down, all but swallowing his muzzle between them. The smell of sweat and musk was thick back there, doubtless from all the exercise that she'd put herself through trying to escape over and over again. He rolled his eyes now that he was out of the camera's line of sight, lifting his hands to grab her cheeks properly.

It didn't take long for him to draw the first moan out of Zelda, and despite his situation, his cock was slowly going up. He didn't particularly long for the chance to be under someone's rump, but he supposed it wasn't that bad.

He dragged his tongue between her cheeks, ignoring her pussy completely and going right for her other hole. The pink flesh back there twitched, clenching inward before relaxing slightly, only to clench again at his next lick. Lapping over it again and again, he tasted the slight bitterness that never went away from someone's rear end, but more than that, he tasted the musk of sweat and more, the little flavors of sex that were always so pleasant.

Lick, lap, lick went his tongue, teasing around that hole, pushing against it for a moment and drawing a gasping moan out of her for the camera before pulling his tongue back. He teased around it again, feeling her juices dribbling down to his chin before he pulled his tongue back again, only to jam it forward. She leaned forward, her hands against his stomach, squeezing against the fur there as she panted for breath.

"Mmmph...oh...fuck that feels...that feels good," Zelda muttered.

He was glad of that, and more to the point, glad that she said something. She rolled her ass cheeks back against him, almost burying his face beneath her rump, and he squeezed her cheeks that much tighter. He spread them slightly, allowing his tongue to get a bit closer to her hole, almost inside it -

"Nnngh...mmph...you're treating me...better than I...deserve..."

She...actually said that. Out loud. And he hadn't commanded it. He would have stopped in sheer shock if it wasn't for the fact that they were being recorded and they needed this. Bertram kept licking, dragging his tongue along the curves of her ass cheeks before getting right back to her hole.

"Nngh...fuck...You...is this...is this really..."

She gasped again as he finally managed to get his tongue past her pucker, forcing it into her. The taste of heat and slight bitterness continued, getting a little stronger, but never filthy. He wiggled his tongue back and forth, and she arched her back, all but humping down against his face.

It was everything that he wanted to show the people down below. He might not be able to take care of every slave like this, but they were meant to be valued, people that all were equally capable in his eyes. It was better than those that had their place that they were born into and could never challenge those that were born higher.

When I'm gone...

It was an oddly poignant thought, and one that he didn't want to indulge at the moment. Not when he had a very open Zelda on his face.

As he tongue-fucked her ass, she kept moaning, rolling her hips back and grinding her ass against his face. Her cheeks jiggled slightly, and he groaned as he imagined what that was going to look like. A very indulgent 'cult leader', he imagined, taking his pleasure with a woman and making sure that she enjoyed it.

It didn't take long for her to cum, and when she did, her fingers curled through his fur and squeezed so tight that he was all but sure that he'd have bald spots waiting for him afterward. He groaned as he pulled his tongue back, his own cock throbbing hard as she slowly pulled her ass up, shaking from head to toe.

"That...that was..."

"Was it good?" he asked her.

"...If it wasn't...could I go again?" Zelda asked.

"If it wasn't good, then you wouldn't want it again." He managed to put a smile on his face. "But if you feel the need -"

"Please."

"...then you may."

But only because she said please. And only because this was a side of Zelda that he hadn't seen before.

They broadcast the recording later. Some members of the fleet were shocked, but others were more keen than ever to show their loyalty to him. After all, if the Dark Lord allowed a traitor to sit on his face, what else would he do for someone that was genuinely loyal?

Three more days passed. Their time went from eight days on arrival to seven during the recording, and now they were down to four. Four days until the rest of the fleet arrived and obliterated them.

Standing on the bridge of the Indomitable, Bertram did the only thing that he could. He kept sparring with the leaders on the planet below, keeping them wrapped up in the same misery of the script as he was. The orca leader - a man named Oahoosh - had more or less identified himself as a buffoon, more interested in preserving the status quo and relying on tired old slogans rather than trying anything different, and at the very least, the ram got some amusement by forcing him to make mistakes while everyone was watching.

"You will never take Bareef. Your dark ways are -"

" Embraced by many. While there are those that have come to me by conquest, there are many others that have embraced the way of the Void willingly. Clusters of star systems have come to me, offering wealth and power for the chance to be something new, something better than they were before. What I offer them is more than what they can gain on their own; to be under my heel is to be given a chance at an equal life."

"There's no equality in slavery!"

" You speak as one that keeps them, rather than one that has been a slave," Bertram said.

As the orca strangled on his own words, one of his subordinates raised their hands. Out of sight of Oahoosh, of course, but Bertram saw it. He thought to Data.

Connect me there.

The AI assistant brought up the officer's screen in a miniaturized form in the corner of his vision, showing it in the visor of his helmet. A glance at it shocked him.

The script was working again, and this time, it was working in their favor. Some of the ships orbiting Bareef were moving out of position, slowly dragging themselves into firing range. They'd learned, of course; they were in a position that kept them from being hit by any of the redirecting transmitters that the rest of Bertram's fleet acted as, but that wasn't the important part.

They'd left the planet open. They had opened a hole that he could beam an Indoctrination message down with.

Whether it was through the script demanding a hero stand up to the evil dark lord or whether it was something else entirely, he wasn't going to let the opening go by. Justifying it as expanding his cult, as bringing his holy word, he thought to Data.

Shift the cruiser on that end into position, and beam through the following message.

Oahoosh was just starting to get his verbal footing again as Bertram continued.

"**It is past time that you admit that your system has failed your people. From the Deep Den to the Starry Sea, it has been a system of some for most, and most for some. Your people, the orcas, live at the top, while others live at the bottom. How many ships of lesser people have you scuttled in this war to prevent me from learning your secrets? How many unfortunate souls have been deemed 'acceptable casualties' because they were not you?

"At least a slave has value. At least a slave is equal to his officers. Is it so acceptable to all of you to see them less, as something you can just toss away as it suits you? Do they feel so willing to accept it?

"Perhaps...it is time to change. Perhaps...they should make a choice. Because they finally have one. You...or me.**

"

"You are nothing but a loathsome creature. None will - wait, what - what's going on? What's that -"

The orca was knocked aside from off-screen, and there was a split-second of seeing dolphins and other creatures rushing onto the projection before it was shut down. The ram smiled to himself as the communication channel shut off, and even more as the fleet began to adjust itself, some turning on other ships, some gun platforms going so far as to shut down completely.

It had started.

The revolution on the planet lasted for a full day, and at the end, it surrendered. Bareef was his.

The moment that the announcement was made, something shifted. Bertram felt it, Mark felt it. Everyone on his side felt it.

Scarcely had the message been said before the channel opened again, this time bringing a request from the Allied Systems. It was sent by an owl, and it was short and to the point. They wanted to meet, to have a ceasefire until they could attend a peace conference. They were not happy about it, and it showed in the message, but they had still sent it.

The rest of the crew on the Indomitable cheered. Bertram merely sagged with relief. They had bought themselves some breathing room...but that was all. They still had a long way to go.

The End

Summary: And we hit the end of the first arc of Dark Lord Substitute, with Bertram claiming two areas of the galaxy and buying himself a ceasefire. But for how long?

Tags: M/F, Nudity, Ram, Hyena, Various Species, Sci-Fi, Script, Body Control, Mind Control, AI, Rimming, Facesitting, Series, Cum, Orgasm,