Sekhmet's response to him was unexpected, to say the least. He had expected her usual playful biting, perhaps even something more serious at times, but never had she forced submission from him -- at least, not so directly. His first reaction was to brace himself and resist, forcing his weight and strength down in order to remain upright. He could feel her teeth and claws all over him, and he found himself tempted to bite back. Luckily, Kweku's rational mind had the final say, and he bit down on his own teeth instead. Still, he could not completly keep quiet, and a low, baritone growl continued to reverberate from his chest.
Eventually, he had to accept it. As much as he wanted to resist, he knew his place well enough. It felt like a betrayel to himself to allow himself to slowly sink down, surrendering to Sekhmet's weight and momentum. Even on his back, he still refused to look the part. He did not tuck his paws up against his chest, nor did he turn away from her face. Instead, he stared up at her, his lips pulled back to reveal his own teeth. His blood was hot and his heart thumped hard against his chest, both in excitement and anger. It was an unusual combinaiton, and he felt it rise up and prickle across his skin like fire.
Her teeth lingered at his throat and as they moved up his neck, he allowed his to linger near her throat in return. He breathed hard into her, wanting her to feel the heat of his breath against her own skin like he had hers. Kweku had started to believe it was something more than punishment, but her words quickly put his hope in its place. It was punishment, undoubtedly. He growled, then snorted, disappointed at his own predicament as she nipped at him and spoke. "She's of good stock. This daughter, make use of her," he replied, shoving his weight up and against her for a moment as he moved to nip the air beside her face. It was his little punishment - at least, a subdued version. In truth, he wanted to shove her off completely and force her down onto her back. He had to resist, though -- for the time being, at least.
"As for him: should I deal with him?" His tongue lashed out and rolled across his muzzle, eager for the sensation of a fight. Perhaps Cuirass would like to handle the Asp too, though Kweku admittedly revelled in the idea of working alone too.
His pleasure in thinking about a good fight was quickly stifled by the feeling of her teeth against his flesh. He hissed between his teeth, instinct driving his muzzle forward towards the side of her face. With a metallic clack of his teeth, he gripped the thick fur of her cheek and pulled her aside, away from his shoulder. With a jerk of his head, he brought her face close to his: he could see the intense ghost-blue of her eyes, the way they held such wicked fire within them. "Use her too, then. Like I did," he said, having released her cheek with a final snap of the air. He shoved his weight up again, a silent request that she let him begin fighting back in earnest at least. "Have her find the Asp for you. Maybe they will deal with each other." Whether it was a good idea or not, Kweku didn't know. But he hoped it might at least give her something to think about other than punishing him.