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As part of a time-honoured tradition, various different "warlords" would fight for control of various islands in a large archipelago. To do this, they each were given one team of mind-controlled scuba fighters to fight the opposing teams. When a battle is won, the team would take the fallen enemy combatants and brainwash them as well, adding to their own ranks. When all of the islands were conquered by a single warlord, victory would be declared for that warlord and his or her team.

However, these wars were not fought with normal weapons, for this was no military conflict. This was a "game" of sorts. Swimmers from around the world would come willingly to attend the game and submit themselves to the mind control of a randomly chosen warlord. It was meant to be a pleasurable experience, and so the weapons of all participants were designed to cause an orgasm in those that they struck. When a hose connecting a mask to an oxygen tank was cut, the mask would flood with a "stasis gas" that would reduce the user's need for oxygen and also cause an orgasm. This would keep them alive until they were revived after the battle.

The otter team had gathered in the locker room. Their warlord, clad in his own speedo, was watching each one put on their equipment, each one fully obedient to him. Unlike the other warlords, he tended to get closer to his soldiers, and sometimes even went on a few missions with them.

He had just learned they were going against an avian team, made up of various birds. He didn't care how often they came or even if they were left floating with no hoses or rebreathers, he just wanted to win and not become the butt of so many jokes from the other warlords. The less-experienced otters, usually the younger ones, wearing the yellow Speedos and leotards of their warlord, were mostly there for cannon fodder and more than likely would absorb the first few salvos of harpoons and cut hoses, while the more experienced otters wore skin suits which covered the entire body. All their suits swimsuits where in shades of green and yellow

The objective for this particular fight was to take over an island in the possession of the avians. If they could capture it they would control a vital chokepoint in the sea and be one more step closer to eliminating the avians. Lose, and the otters would have to fall back to their underwater base on the verge of being eliminated themselves.

The rules were simple: take out enemy divers by either cutting their hoses or hitting them with knives or harpoons. Any of these methods would quickly silence an enemy, sending them into unconsciousness and totally eliminating them from the competition for the day.

The otters were well versed in underwater combat, male and female both. They needed no inspiring speeches to lead them to victory but those who were loyal to their warlord knew of the avians' SCUBA team.

"Watch out for the elites," one otter male said to the others. "They're the ones in the leotards, while the regulars are just in speedos. They work as a team and are worth more than a few of us otters if they get us in a pinch." The otters nodded their heads and readied themselves. The younger recruits, and those that were just recently brainwashed, jumped in the water, the veterans letting them swim out a few meters before going in themselves. Their body suits hugged and outlining their slim, lithe bodies as they glided through the water. They readied their harpoon guns as they knew these would be the first weapons used.

Meanwhile, exactly fifty of the very best avian scuba fighters had been neatly assembled on the beach. All male, they all wore matching high-cut leotards and speedos in different shades of blue, most of them already sporting stiff tents in their skimpy swimwear, eager and aroused for the upcoming engagement. Most of them were each former fighters of other warlords, but after being defeated over time they were each captured and brainwashed. Now, after winning battle after battle, they became very well known as one of the best teams. Soon, they would be adding more to their ranks, capturing them and mind controlling them to serve their warlord, who was rapidly gaining great notoriety. Despite their lack of free will, they were still fairly free in their thoughts. They were simply controlled to serve their new warlord obediently.

Their commander gave them the signal and they all ran into the water, keeping their various wings close to their bodies to avoid drag. They were exceptionally eager to capture the otters and force them to join their warlord's new otter team, and the thought of making them all cum in their suits, or of the avians cumming themselves, turned them on greatly. These wouldn't be the first captures the avian team had. It wasn't long before the thick cloud of otters came into view as the avians descended into the deep.

The avians all carried harpoons, while the leotard-clad elites wore bandoliers carrying knives as well. They all readied their harpoons on the approaching force, each of them only too eager to get to business taking these otters down, bringing each of them to climax and brainwashing them. Yes, they were going to have lots of fun with their captives after this fight! Once they were confident they were in range they immediately began firing their weapons into the swarm.

The otters didn't have the eyesight of the avians and they were the first to taste the harpoons on their near-naked bodies, tenting up their Speedos and nipples forcing themselves up in leotards. They grabbed at their injuries as they squealed out their unfortunate demise and groaned as their arousal reached climax. Releasing their pent up orgasms, they thrashed about in the water and fluttered their finned feet, the first casualties sinking into unconsciousness and the sea bed. Those not caught in the first salvo from the avians fired their own harpoons.

There were a few casualties from the return fire from the otters. Several of the avians were hit, the chemicals flowing into their bodies, overloading the pleasure centres of their brains as they exploded into their suits. The crotches of speedos and leotards tented as they pulsed their thick cream into the water, throwing their heads back in immense pleasure. After their orgasms subsided they drifted asleep, their limp bodies sinking. But it didn't matter to the avians. They were sure to win this fight as usual, so any losses were acceptable, just like all their previous engagements. As some were hit, others had apparently fallen back, unable to contain their own arousal any longer as they began rubbing themselves through the slick fabric of their speedos and leotards. The survivors reloaded their weapons and fired again as they approached their prey.

The otters were still reloading their guns as they were hit by the second round of harpoon projectiles. Even a couple of the elite otters were hit. One male in his skin suit grunted as the harpoon hit him squarely in his chest, throwing his arms out as he lost his grip on his weapon. He flipped backwards in the water as the momentum carried him a bit farther and then he laid out flat as his member pointed up and out from his body. He felt his balls clench up and tighten as the harpoon's chemicals made him orgasm, spilling his otter seed against the tight skin suit. Some of it seeped through, leaving a white trail as he began to sink and fall asleep. His Lycra-clad allies began to float about his head as he headed towards the bottom with his arms floating gracefully.

The avians dropped their spent harpoons as they only carried two projectiles. The leotard-clad elites removed the knives from their bandoliers while those without them readied themselves for hand-to-hand combat. The largest groups of avians went for the largest groups of otters, leaving smaller groups to pick off the stragglers that were further from the main body of the fight. One young avian regular, a hawk in a royal blue speedo, swam towards an otter female with only his bare fists, hoping to wrap her in his wings, leaving her helpless, a common strategy among the avians. The otter, wearing a yellow leotard, looked around at the chaos which swirled around her as she saw the avian boy coming after her. She slipped her knife free from her thigh strap and flipped it twice in front of her. She kicked her finned feet as she met the avian in the middle of the water while the divers of both sides were either floating unconscious around them or just starting their own melee combat.

She grunted as her arm was seized. She fought against his strength, realising she was going to lose the fight if she continued down this path. She brought her naked legs to the hawk's chest in an attempt to push him away and break the hold. The hawk tried to take his opportunity with her wrist seized. He tried to wrap his wings around behind her, although this was difficult with her feet pressed against his chest, pushing him away. He brought his own legs up to try and pull hers down, while moving to try and grab her other arm with his other hand.

She found herself entirely enclosed within his wings. Unable to muster the strength to keep her legs to his chest any longer they were forced down as she felt his member pressing against her stomach and near her groin through their spandex. She felt weakness wash over her as she felt a sudden rush of warmth and giddiness. She felt both her arms become entangled with his as she continued to attempt to strike at her diver opponent but it was getting harder and harder for her to do so.

He moved his body along hers, rubbing the crotch of his speedo against the slick fabric over her stomach. He grinned maliciously into her eyes.

"Shhhh... don't struggle. Just cum... just cum..." he said, wrapping his legs around hers, immobilised completely in his embrace.

"As if I would give in to an avian...," She blushed as she felt his crotch against her own sensitive region. "Oh gods." she cried out as she felt the grasp on her knife slip just a bit. "You touch my hoses bird and I'll be having an early Thanksgiving..." she moaned out, her hips bucking slightly against his constant rubbing. She was going to lose and she hoped his method of eliminating her was no hoses being cut.

"Oh, there's no need to mess with your hose. When you cum that'll be all it takes to knock you out. Now calm down. Just relax and cum for me..." he said, gyrating against her as he moved to grab the knife, trying to plunge it into her chest.

Pre-cum leaked into the water through the front of his speedo. She felt the knife go between her small but firm breasts.

"Damn you...," she groaned out. She went entirely limp in his soft embrace, bucking her hips across his chest and groin. Her orgasm wrecked her small body as she fell unconscious, her fluids leaking from the bottom of her swimsuit. She moaned one last time and her head came to rest against his feathered chest.

He allowed the sleeping otter to slide off his chest and down his speedo, slowly sinking down to the sea bed. The cocky hawk then swam away with a satisfied grin. He was highly aroused, the fabric of his speedo pointed outward as he continued to leak pre-cum into the water. He searched for his next victim, seeing another otter not far off looking in the opposite direction from him and aiming a harpoon at another avian. He slowly swam up behind in the hope of catching it by surprise. The otter, a boy in a green Speedo, was about to take his shot on one of the other avians. He was unaware of the avian approaching him from behind. He felt the two arms take ahold of his as he squealed in protest, his member already half hard.

With a strong hold of the otter's arms from behind the hawk took the initiative, wrapping his wrings around him, knocking the harpoon from his hands and pinning the otter's arms to his chest. He moved his own hands to the otter's abdomen where he caressed it and another to the crotch of his speedo where he began rubbing fiercely. The bat humped his own speedo into the otter's rump.

"Don't struggle..." he said. He loved to tease his prey like this. "Come on, just give up. You love being wrapped up in my wings and manipulated like this, don't you?" He only hoped that he was not interrupted during his actions as his wings in front of him obscured his visibility.

The young otter boy kicked his naked legs and furtively struggled to free his arms. The constant attention on his Speedo-clad crotch was making things much more difficult. He had never been much of holding out in the training exercises. He grunted as he thrust his hips several times.

"Just do it... feather fiend," he said, not helping matters as he tried to help the avian out with his constant rubbing and humping.

With his other hand caressing his abdomen the avian took the knife from where he holstered it under the side of his own speedo. With it in hand he slowly dragged it along the otter's side.

"Shhhhh..." he said. "I win..."

The otter boy gurgled into his mask and rebreather device as he felt the knife go up his side. His member, just semi-hard underneath his Speedo, grew its full length. So much so it pointed straight out from his body as the material conformed to the hard length. He sprayed his otter seed into and out of the confined space as he thrashed in the embrace of the avian's wings. He shuddered one last time and went unconscious as other avians flooded the area to defend their island. The young avian released his catch and watched him float to the sea bed. Spreading his wings out and propelling himself back he left for another part of the battle, but not before taking a few moments to rub more at the enticing speedo-clad crotch of his second victim.

The avian commander had given them the order to return to the island and regroup. They began to fall back, otters and avians dropping like flies here and there. Slowly they started to reach the beach, crawling onto the sand as they rushed into the foliage inland, where a number of new harpoons were waiting to be used, hidden among the underbrush. They readied them and hid down behind the foliage, waiting for the otters to come up on the beach. Meanwhile, in order to convey the sense that they were in full retreat, some avians were chosen to be left behind, as if buying time for the others to escape. Now reduced to only one, a young Falcon in his skimpy turquoise speedo was all that stood between the swarm of otters and the beach. He raised his knife in defence.

One of the older otters thought the sudden retreat was strange. One of the younger skin-suited otters took advantage of the lone avian and attempted to tackle him and bring him to orgasm one way or another, immediately going for his hose. The young Falcon, seeing the skin-suited otter coming upon him, tried to grab the two arms of his attacker. However, now being completely surrounded and almost utterly hopeless, he began feeling heavily aroused, barely able to contain his excitement as he slowly started tenting his skimpy attire.

The otter boy grappled with the falcon.

"Why are you leaving the water, bird? You had us!" said the otter.

He attempted to grab the hose while bringing his knee up to grind at the falcon's groin. The falcon moaned heavily as the knee of his attacker grinded against the fabric, now leaking pre-cum into the water while they wrestled.

"Hhhng... too many casualties... ooohhh..." responded the avian. He hoped this would be a good enough lie to fool the otter.

With the knee pressed against his arousal, now rapidly approaching his own release, his hopes of escaping without climaxing were all but gone, especially with all the otters around him. He decided to simply give up and cease his struggling, allowing the otter to massage his growing bulge with his knee.

"Oh well, time to end this." said the otter. He caught hold of one of the hoses and began to saw the rubber tube apart.

The thick white gas leaked into the avian's mask as the tube was cut. His pleasure became overwhelming, an intense pressure stemming from between his legs as he came in his speedo. He yelled and moaned loudly as he lost his grip on the hands and legs of the otter and slowly drifted down to the sea bed, now fast asleep, cum still spilling into the water through the thin fabric.

Now nothing stood between the otters and the avian island.

"See if we can't lure them back to the water," the leader said to his troops.

The remaining forces of the otters swam towards the island, a few sleeping otters and avians floating here and there. The otters slowly approached the beach on hands and feet. Seeing their opportunity, the avians burst from the foliage and began firing their harpoons into the otters walking up the sand. The otters were more adapted to fighting underwater, but the avians had far more experience, but that was not enough to reduce their casualties significantly in the water.

This tactic served to thin the ranks of the otters. Some of the otters didn't even make it out of the water and were thrown back into the surf, kicking and moaning as the harpoons hit bare fur and skin-suits. They flopped backwards, their fins going up high and coming back down with a splash, carried away by the tide back into deeper waters. The other otters which came further onto land clutched at the harpoons sticking out of them. A female otter in a tight skin-suit went to her knees as she gasped out loud in her breather. Her eyes closed tightly as she put both hands to her groin, moaning out loud. She slid to her side and kicked out her Lycra covered legs, cumming for those avians on the beach. She fell unconscious as the water lapped at her legs.

As the otters dropped, the avians began to exit the foliage, now confident and fully regrouped. Led by their commander, they started down into the water once again, while some remained amid the foliage to guard the area, although most of those avians were pleasuring themselves through their tight speedos and leotards, aroused by the sight and movements of the fallen otters. Several avians began to move onto the beach and drag away the fallen otters, eager to have their way with them through their various tight swimsuits. Now with one extra spear of ammunition each, the remaining avians continued their charge back into the sea.

Two male otters in skin-suits fired back on the avians to try and buy some time for the remaining otters to retreat back to the relative safety of the sea. A few avians were hit and fell over backwards, bucking their hips as they filled their leotards and speedos with their seed, moaning out loudly as they left the waking world behind, their arms outstretched and still panting heavily, thick avian cream dripping from their tented swimsuits onto the sand. Some of the avians returned from the foliage to drag them back into the safety of the underbrush, where they each planned to continue pleasuring them until they awoke.

The avians underwater were coming back into view of the otters in the distance. This time the elite otters in skin-suits led the charge as they fired upon the avians, hoping to cut down their numbers before the mass melee could begin again. They fired their guns and swam forward as they exchanged harpoon projectiles. Some with no ammo swam with purpose to bring the fight up-close and personal to the avians.

Otters and avians were dropping all over the place. With their remaining ammunition expended, the two forces clashed in aquatic melee combat once again. A lone sparrow on the outskirts of the main portion of the fight was trying to go after stragglers. Up ahead, he saw two otters male in skin-suits. Confident that he could take them both he swam towards them in his cyan speedo, no weapons in his hands.

The sparrow had successfully snuck up behind the two otters. Once there he placed his hands around the neck of one of them, simulating choking him out in order to force a release of the stasis gas. The otter's eyes bulged from his mask as he felt the hands wrap themselves around his throat. His member began to tent out his suit as he loved the feeling of being choked out as with all otters. He kicked his strong lithe legs around in an attempt to dislodge the sparrow from his back. The other otter brought out his knife in an attempt to help his friend but the bird was too small to stab in light of stabbing his comrade.

The avian maintained his throttling while also trying to knock the knife from the hand of the other otter with his wing. He wrapped his legs around his victim, the bulge of his speedo grinding against the fabric of the otter's skin-suit. His arousal in this situation made him extend himself from his swimsuit, nuzzling the spandex back of the otter. The otter was fading a little as he and his partner were unable in their first attempts to do away with this little pest. He was struggling slightly as he was starting to show the first signs of passing out. The other otter had his knife knocked away, not realizing this bird was that good in underwater combat.

As they twisted in the water, the free otter grabbed onto his fading partner and slipped behind the sparrow. Since he had no knife in his hands, he found the bird's breathing tubes and began to forcefully pull it out of the breathing device. The breathing device was torn from his mask and gas began to fill the small space, obscuring his vision. He was unable to contain a powerful burst of intense pleasure welling up from the crotch of his speedo. He released himself into the tight, tented fabric, his cream spraying into the water and onto the otter's back as he releases his arms and legs from around him. Slowly he begins to float down, although the gas appeared to be suffering some kind of unusual malfunction in that his orgasm did not seem to end, nor did he pass out as he floated downward He only continued to moan out loudly as he emptied his loins into the high-cut brief, convulsing and bucking his hips over and over.

The otter that was previously being choked floated in the water watching the sparrow sink with his hands at his speedo, out of the fight for a bit as he recovered from his ordeal. The other otter took his friend's knife and stabbed the bird in a show of mercy to allow the avian to pass out. Finally freed from the malfunctioning gas as he was hit with the knife, he blacked out, fluid still seeping into his speedo inexplicably as he continued sinking.

The otter looked back to his partner and saw he was still out of the loop for a little while longer. While he recovered he swam a little ways and found a likely candidate to defeat. It was a Speedo-clad falcon who was busy running a stolen blunt knife over the leotard-clad crotch of a defeated male otter, as if peeling a potato while he pleasured himself through his light blue leotard. The humiliated otter was arching his back and putting on a good show for the avian as he came into the fabric.

The otter boy swam quickly to avenge his cumming comrade as he raced towards them, putting his knife to the avians throat. Too busy enjoying the thrill of his kill, the scantily-clad falcon wasn't fast enough to stop the knife from slipping onto his throat. He released the climaxing otter as he moved to grasp at his crotch, trying desperately to avoid his climax, but he couldn't help himself and released into the skimpy garment, a white cloud emanating from the blue tented fabric into the water as he passed out, breathing heavily.

Not far from him were two other avians searching for a sole speedo or leotard-clad otter to bring to climax. A female otter was swimming around a rock formation when she nearly swam right into the two avians. Clad in nothing but her slim and fitting leotard, she squealed in fright as the two avians looked at each other and smirked. She fumbled for her knife at her thigh as she finally brought it up in defence. She knew she was going to probably be floating with her hoses cut but she wanted to see if she was worthy of donning a skin-suit her next battle.

The two avians approached the female otter. One was simply wearing another aqua speedo, while the other was an elite clad in a royal blue leotard. The elite with his knife and the other with his bare fists and talons charged at the otter, determined to take her down quickly, efficiently, and pleasurably. The one in the speedo was another hawk while the other in the leotard was a bat, his darkly coloured fur and spindly wings creating a menacing picture as he extended them. The otter girl had her mouth agape and nearly lost her knife as the bat spread his wings fully. She was roughly grabbed from behind by the hawk, struggling side to side. She knew the frightening factor the two possessed alone could be her downfall.

The young hawk was holding the leotard-clad female otter from behind, desperately trying to maintain his hold while the bat approached her, his knife in hand. He swam upon her, an excited grin on the face of the hawk as he saw his comrade approach her. The otter girl looked down in panic as she saw his knife start at her groin.

"No, please, just let me cum and pass out," she said, struggling against the hawk, but she was powerless to stop either one. She felt the knife barely touch her covered nethers through the fabric as the bat played with her.

Both the hawk and bat thoroughly enjoyed tormenting their prisoner. The bat continued to slide the knife up and down her suit as the toxin slowly broke through the fabric of her leotard and into her skin. They savoured each and every one of her moans as the hawk foolishly let go while the bat encased her in his wings. Both of them were gently rubbing at their own swimsuits.

"Just relax, and this will all be over." the bat said.

The otter girl moaned and slightly humped against the bat. She still had her knife in her hand as she slowly did her best to position it at the bat's belly. In an attempt to gain more room for the stab, she groaned out rather excitedly and bucked her hips out and away from the material of the bat's leotard. It wasn't much of an act as she was very close to her own orgasm. The bat, in his overconfidence and excitement, failed to notice the knife at his stomach as it slid into him. He pulled away from her, stretching out his wings and bucking his hips as he climaxed from the chemicals in the knife. He moaned loudly into his mask, almost screeching, somewhat frighteningly as his seed spilled into the water in front of him.

"I'll get you for that!" yelled the hawk, charging at the otter girl as his companion sunk.

The otter girl was too aroused from her ordeal to hear much of anything rather than her own panting and heartbeat hammering in her ears. She didn't even turn around as she was jerked forward from the collision.

"Got ya!" said the hawk as he slammed into the female otter.

She nearly lost her mask but amazingly they both remained on. She coughed and squealed in immense pleasure as she could no longer hold it back and released her climax in her skimpy leotard.

As she started to sink, engulfed in her orgasm, the hawk stopped and watched. He swam over to her, one hand groping at his own crotch as he caressed hers.

"Not so tough now, huh?" he said, smiling.

Things were looking bad for the hawk, however. Other avians were dropping all around him and it seemed they simply couldn't keep up with the large numbers of the otters and their adept skills underwater. He decided to descend to the sea bed and caress his defeated bat friend before the end of the match.

Meanwhile, the strong and proud eagle commander of the avians was defeating otters left and right as he searched for the otter leader, determined to see his foe fill his swimsuit with his seed and destroy all otter morale. The avian commander wore only a metallic, royal blue breastplate and a matching codpiece. The codpiece, worn particularly high on his hips, was silver metal at the sides but lycra at the front and back, making his arousal quite visible as it tented outwards.

The commander of the otters was also searching for his nemesis, and it wasn't long before they encountered each other. Taking a moment to look the eagle's athletic body up and down, the otter spoke.

"Rather garish in your uniform this time, eh?" He said.

The otter wore a simple green speedo with a silver slash on its side to signify his leadership in this fight. He brought out his knife casually just in case the eagle wanted to end his run with a stab or cut hose.

The eagle smirked at the smug otter.

"Garish?" he said, his voice both powerful and commanding. "My brethren and I consider this a fitting uniform for a soldier of my rank!" He waved his long machete at the leader of his enemies. "You'll be ours soon enough, and when that happens you'll answer to me. We're gonna have a ton of fun brainwashin' you tonight!" he continued, a noticeable tent in the fabric between the two metal plates on either side of his very high-cut codpiece. He refused to hide his arousal in the face of his enemy. "Give up now and I won't knock you out. Instead we'll just make you cum all the way back to base. You'd love that, wouldn't you?".

The otter leader just shook his head. He took up a defensive posture. Seeing the breastplate provided the eagle with protection at his chest and none at his belly, he had to go for his abdomen to do the most damage. He swam towards the eagle to test his quickness by feinting an attack at his chest then swimming to the other side to try for the exposed right leg.

"It's great to see you again, by the way!" said the handsome eagle.

He knew the attack directed at his chest was only a feint. He knew his former friend well enough to know that he was smart enough not to go for his armoured breastplate. He swiftly and easily moved his machete to protect his right leg from the otter's knife.

"You'd make a great slave! You want that, don't you?" he teased, assured and secure in his brilliant and well-renowned speed.

The otter didn't rise for the bait of the eagle. He used his right leg and kicked down rather forcibly onto the chest of the eagle while flipping himself up and over the eagle's outstretched neck. The veteran eagle was impressed by the swift motion of the otter, though it was to be expected from the leader of creatures built for swimming. Sadly for the otter, the eagle span around swiftly, using his wings to propel himself downward at the same time, keeping his distance.

"Come on, champ! You can do better than that!" Said the Eagle.

With a view from below, he aimed his machete for the soft spot between the front and back of his enemy's speedo, directly between his legs and under his tenting bulge, as he propelled himself upward. The otter twisted to the side as the machete whistled through the water to where his groin was just a moment before.

"That would have hurt..." the otter said as he gritted his teeth in his mask.

The otter didn't like overconfident enemies and this only made him all the more determined to at least make this eagle cum. The otter leader eyed the wings as they were the only equalizer of their battle. If he could just slide his knife across one or both of them it would be in the otter's favour. He flicked his rudder-like tail and streamlined himself for an all out rush on the avian. Even the cocky eagle couldn't swim or manoeuvre himself fast enough for his speed. As he passed he flicked out his wrist to slash at the eagle's wings.

"We may be slaves to the warlords, but it doesn't mean you can't be my own servant. After all, I command my troops, so why not you too?" he said, grinning, but in his arrogance and overconfidence he failed to stop the otter leader's knife from slicing across his wing as he passed him.

Grunting in alarm and moaning steadily in pleasure, he moved his free left arm to clutch at the crotch of his high-cut garment. He was wrecked with intense pleasure, but not enough to make him orgasm. The slice along his wing was far enough from his body to prevent him from feeling the full effects of the chemical, but it was a good hit and he was definitely feeling the effects.

"You... mmmmmm... you little..." he moaned.

He raised his machete again, leaving his other hand at his crotch, unable to keep himself from tending to his burning arousal through the fabric.

"I'm not gonna, ahhhhh... let you take me as your own! I'm... ohhhh... I'm the best, you hear?!" he stammered, shivering and panting heavily with his immense pleasure, thick wads of pre-cum flowing into the water.

The otter leader shook his head wondering why the eagle kept thinking he was the best. The male only did what otters do: swim fast and hard. Maybe if it was a land fight he'd be creaming his own Speedo, but now he could tell from two things he had the upper hand in this fight. One was simple, he had injured the eagle and made him more susceptible to further attacks, and two the eagle was lost in his emotions, becoming more and more angry by the second. The otter decided to put this eagle of his misery. Putting on another burst of speed he stopped himself just short of the eagle's reach. When the eagle either attacked or flinched, he would go for the hose of the avian leader.

"I... I WILL see you cumming today, otter! No way I'm letting your warlord brainwash me!" said the eagle, still panting heavily into his mask.

He could barely think, his arousal immense as large quantities of pre-cum poured into his skimpy attire, trying desperately not to climax. However, he was able to see the otter's defensive posture, no doubt waiting for him to make the first move.

"Come at me, hot stuff!" the eagle said. "I'll see you cream that cute lil' speedo yet!" He grinned, his heartbeat still racing.

The otter leader knew he should've continued the attack as the eagle was still struggling to keep himself from having an orgasm. The otter would have loved to have creamed his Speedo if he was in a training mission but this was in the competition. He thought through his alternatives and knew the eagle was still suffering from the previous attack. He knew he had the speed and manoeuvrability but he was worried of the curved sword the avian still carried. The otter focused all his attention on the arm and hand which was holding the machete. He took off like a shot and grabbed onto the arm, attempting to push his knife it.

The eagle quickly brought his other hand away from the arousal in his thong to intercept the approaching knife, knowing that if he was hit by that weapon a second time he would likely not be able to contain his orgasm any longer.

"I ain't goin' down that easy, champ!" he said, swiftly catching the otter's arm before he could be hit with the knife.

Nearby, a hawk in a speedo who had recently finished a battle with a female otter had taken notice of the two and was now approaching the otter leader, intent of aiding his own commander.

The otter, as the two of them spun in the water as they battled for the machete, saw the hawk coming towards them. He knew he would do anything to save his leader from the fate of so many others. The otter put his finned feet on the breastplate of the eagle and attempted to push away from the avian commander to focus on the hawk just coming up on them. The eagle was sent spinning away and it took time for him to re-orient himself in the water. Meanwhile, the approaching hawk, now armed with a knife, charged directly at the otter leader, determined to take him down and claim victory for the entire team.

The otter leader turned to the hawk and his eyes and body posture turned serious on this interloper on the battle between the two leaders.

"Sorry," was all he said as he streamlined himself to take out the hawk as quickly as possible.

He grabbed onto the arm with the knife and span the avian around quickly to disorient him. He then swiped his arm up across the hose which was flopping about from the hawk's breathing device.

"Argh!" yelled the otter as his delicate tube was sliced.

His mask filled with the orgasm and stasis gas, driving his loins to burst with intense pleasure as he filled his speedo with his seed.

"N-no..." he said as he drifted contentedly into deep sleep in the warmth of his afterglow. His arms were outstretched towards the otter as he sank.

The eagle commander nearby, still sending pulses of his cream into his speedo, was finally able to readjust himself.

"I... hng... I'm gonna get you! Your speedo is mine!" he said, still barely able to hold back his climax.

He longed to grab hold of his enemy's speedo and bring him to orgasm with his bare hands. He readied himself into a defensive posture once again, legs spread and his machete held in front of him.

The otter looked at the hawk and then back to the eagle; an idea flashed through his mind as he heard the eagle scream at him. He grabbed the hawk by his Speedo and lifted his unconscious body, holding it out in front of him. He swam as fast as he could with the extra weight and shoved the body at the avian leader. He only barely dodged out of the way as the body was thrown at him. As the body passed, his arousal took control of him and he could not stop himself from grabbing hold of the speedo-clad bulge of his sleeping comrade, rubbing it through the slick fabric as the last of its white smoke emptied into the water. In his aroused trance, breathing heavily, he was unable to notice the knife coming up to slice at his breathing tube and it was neatly severed.

The gas filled the small confines of the mask as his body erupted into the best orgasm of his life, the front of his metal and lycra thong tenting away from his body as thick streams of fluid burst into the skimpy garment.

"AAAAH!!" he yelled, his body convulsing and his breathing only seemed to intensify.

"No... NO!!" he screamed, surprisingly still conscious as he fought to remain awake, relying only on what little oxygen was still left in his mask.

"You're mine..." he said between breaths. "I'm gonna make you cum all day... You're gonna be my personal slave...!"

He approached the otter, shivering as he ceaselessly climaxed into his thong. He reached out his hands, trying to grab at the otter's speedo.

"Just keep thinking that as you float in the sea with the rest of your avians," the otter said, looking at the eagle, surprised at his stamina.

He back-finned out of the way of the eagle, keeping a good arms length from the defeated avian leader. Near the sea bed, he felt some rocks on his back and used them to push off with both of his finned feet to rocket past the eagle, slashing across his legs with his knife, stopping at the avian's back and running the knife from the base of the neck to the base of his tail feathers.

"Now, just go to sleep..."

"Hng, no... I..." he said, panting heavily, his body still convulsing as he continued moaning loudly.

Sliced by the knife once again, he was hit by only a dry orgasm as he emptied the last of his cum into his codpiece. He tried to turn around, still not giving up hope as the gas filled his mask, obscuring his vision almost completely. He spoke quietly now, moaning pleasurably and contentedly.

"I... ohhhh... I will have you... mmmmm... your speedo..."

His eyes were half-closed, barely conscious. He reached forward again, trying one last time to grab at the otter's speedo, but slowly now in his weakened state. Despite all this, he still had no plans on giving up and intended to make the otter cum just as much as he was. Even he himself could hardly believe how long he had been able to last without falling asleep.

"I admire you for staying awake this long. If only some of my otters had such fortitude." said the otter as he rolled his eyes.

The otter leader knew some of his otters just dove in the water just to have an orgasm or two. He used to be like the other younger otters but now he was someone who they had to look up to.

"Don't worry, if we otters win, you'll be treated fairly and have a nice... soft... bed to sleep in. Maybe even a feathered pillow." he couldn't help himself at the joke. He emphasised the words of the bed to make the eagle sleep quicker.

Around him the remaining otters and avians were watching now the demise of the eagle, some otters taking advantage by cutting hoses on their distracted opponents.

"Clean them up boys and girls," the otter leader said. "I just wish some of you darned eagles wore skin-suits. I love my opponents tight bodies in Lycra."

Only barely awake, the eagle commander of the avians reached the speedo of his otter nemesis. Attempting to put his shivering, weakened hands around the stiff bulge, he worked to pleasure his nemesis to the point of his own orgasm. However, he only failed miserably as sleep stole him, the enticing words of the otter in his ears, his hands still around the otter's speedo as he floated face-down in the water. The otter leader groaned in pleasure as the eagle's grip slowly slid off his speedo.

Around them, the other avians heard that their commander was defeated. Giving up hope on victory, they each decided to let the otters have their way with their feathered bodies, happily giving in to them. Seeing his opportunity, a young speedo-clad otter swam up to the floating body of the defeated avian commander and grabbed the front of his still-stiff tenting thong. He then began to pleasure himself through his own swimwear, happy to have taken hold of the garment of one of the greatest scuba fighters.

The otter leader just smiled at the young otter pleasuring himself.

"Remember you don't do such things when there is still a battle going on." he said.

He briefly tugged the young otter's hose to scare him a bit as he swam around the battlefield, admiring the passed out bodies of both avians and otters. He always kept his knife at the ready just in case an avian decided to play a hero to defeat the leader of the otters. He rubbed the breasts of a defeated otter girl in a skin-suit as she passed by, her severed hose floating. How he loved the otters in their body suits. Each had their own preferences though. He himself wore a speedo but it was more of a rank issue than personal preference. He surveyed the battlefield one last time seeing as the otters defeated the avians in short order and only now he rubbed his aching member.

"Good work. Round up our defeated and theirs. The warlord needs more recruits for the battles ahead."

They would all satisfy their arousal before moving onward to take the island. But also, however, there was brainwashing to do.