Star Fox: Humiliation - Built to Fall: Part III
"No! Just--"
"Shut up!"
With a thunderous crash, Fox collided with the cold, flimsy wall, body soaked head-to-toe in lizard seed and pinned by a massive, horny hyena. The entire elevator seemed to shake.
The struggle was short and one-sided, but it certainly wasn't quiet.
One hand kept Fox's head in place. The other hastily undid the hyena's belt and zipper. By the time the heavy fabric hit the floor, Fox knew that there was no escaping.
"Hmmm..." the hyena moaned in his ear, clumsily palming the taut curvature of the fox's rump. Another hand slid down Fox's abs before tugging firmly on his sac. "Goddammit, you are so fucking hot."
Fox did nothing but look down, forehead pressed against the cool metal.
"Hey," Baxter grunted, grabbing Fox by the wrist and forcing his right hand down the hyena's rigid, toned front. He soon felt something slick, pointed, and hot at his fingertips. "You feel that? It's goin' in you."
Fox gulped. Without thinking, he pulled his hand away and planted it against the wall, not out of some hope of self-defense, but merely to brace himself.
"That's it?" the hyena said, stooping down and nuzzling the fox between his flattened, quivering ears. "So the boss was right about you."
Baxter tested his fingers against the fox's helpless body, pulling the vulpine's firm cheeks apart and pressing his own body forward.
And then he penetrated, just the tip.
"You just won't..."
Then came the shaft, slowly, steadily.
"...fight..."
The hyena buried the tip of his snout into Fox's ear, making sure he would be heard.
"...back."
The shoved the rest inside, forcing himself through the fox, straight to the hilt. McCloud's body acted of its own accord, throwing itself into a frenzy as his back arched and limbs locked straight.
And so he stayed; Fox planted rigid, as if bracing himself, like he was anticipating his own execution. All the while, Baxter huddled himself close, caressing every curve and line he could find.
A tongue found its way into Fox's ear, drooling and uncomfortably hot. For such a massive, imposing physique, the hyena was surprisingly gentle, now that he had won. For a short while, Baxter's attention was focused solely on the timid fox's head. Light fingers graced the edges of his effeminate jaw. Pinching, prodding under the bone, the hyena relaxed Fox's tense features with expert precision.
In less than a minute, Fox's mouth fell open, and Baxter's thumb slid inside. His powerful claw pinned McCloud's tongue to the back of his lower incisors, easily capable of piercing straight through, should there be any resistance.
Next, the hyena brought his left hand over top Fox's head, tracing a line from between his pinned ears, straight forward, until the rested atop his muzzle. With almost no effort, Baxter pressed down, blocking Fox's nose.
And so Fox brought himself to relax, keeping his mouth wide open just so he could breathe.
It was only then, did Baxter truly begin.
"Hah!" A mangled gasp shook its way out from the back of Fox's throat, following the first, confident thrust. His jaw rattled as the air forced back into his lungs. As the hyena's hips churned forward, Fox found himself completely unable to muffle any moan or cry he made.
"I wanna feel every scream I can squeeze outta you," Baxter growled. His hands had pried Fox's muzzle wide open. He would certainly get what he wanted.
Fox's hands moved of their own accord, clutching helplessly at the hyena's wrists. He lacked the will to even bite down, not that it would do much good. In such closed confines, Baxter could still easily overpower him again, even if he were to lose a few fingers.
And with this unbridled dominance, he used the fox's body like a tool, masterfully pumping forward, spreading him wide and defiling him as deep as the hyena could possibly reach.
All Fox did was breathe and scream. With every thrust, the fox created a new sound to express how he had lost all control. He realized how pathetic he must have looked, restrained by nothing but brute force, fur matted by reptile cum, totally used outside and in.
The feeling alone made his hips seize, giving greater tension against Baxter's thrusts.
"Quit acting like you don't love it," he said. Oddly enough, after every deep, full thrust, he seemed to grind his body tighter into McCloud, as if trying to force himself deeper than he could even reach. "Just love it."
Then he thrust again. His hardest yet. Fox squealed from the back of his throat. Suddenly, he stopped. Baxter let go and instead thread his hands underneath Fox's arms, pressing and massaging the fox's fine neck until he cradled the slender, vulpine jaw in his palms.
Fox's tail kinked in the worst possible way.
Baxter said something. Fox couldn't tell what.
"I said," the hyena repeated, now forceful in the way that he held Fox. He torqued McCloud's head over the right shoulder. They were so close, their noses almost touched. "Look at me!"
Fox couldn't look anywhere else. Just now, he noticed that Baxter's breathing had grown heavy, with stifling air huffing out of his nostrils. The hot, humid breath shivered over Fox, up his nose, across his panting tongue; he could feel the power in the hyena's lungs.
Another lunge rattled Fox's already tenuous grasp of reality. His whole body shivered as one.
"Ooooh..."
"I'm going to break you," the hyena explained, stroking a thumb along the vulpine's cheek. "And I'm going to see the look on your face the moment it ha--!"
Baxter was interrupted. In less than a millisecond, his fox had decided it was in his best interest to arc his entire, slender form in order to lend himself the tiniest bit of added freedom, and that he would use this added freedom to bring his lips to those of his tyrannical lover.
Fox kissed him.
At this point, it was obvious. Above all else, he would rather cooperate than submit. He was scared, more than anything.
And the hyena didn't complain. His tongue forced its way over the fox's teeth; his pinches and caresses pulled even more luscious noises out of the fine-bred mutt that he had made into his property.
Baxter continued to hammer into McCloud, harder than ever before. This time, Fox didn't hold back, all but shrieking straight into the slavering maw of his subjugator.
The hyena's tongue felt unnaturally large in Fox's mouth, taking up more space than the vulpine could hope to give while keeping the finest shred of dignity.
He licked the underside of Fox's molars, then pulled free.
"That's cute, and I appreciate the gesture," Baxter commented, all the while, he hooked his arms underneath Fox's, then interlocked his fingers behind Fox's head. A full-nelson. "But I wanna hear you scream when you take it."
Take it? Take what_?!_
Up and away, like he weighed nothing, the hyena picked Fox up off the ground with a lurch and a grunt. Fox's feet dangled helplessly above the floor; drips of dragon seed raced around and under his feet, held still to his body by surface tension. His entire weight was handled by nothing more than the rippling arms coiled about his shoulders and the cock up his ass.
That was when he felt it. Slowly, sinfully, something spread Fox even wider than ever before. At first, Fox thought that he had been hilted, but no.
Instead, he was about to be filled with a knot. A knot so huge, he had originally thought that it was a flat surface.
Now, it was immediately apparent that the hyena was a gene-splicer, attaining physical characteristics that didn't match those of his species.
"But..." Fox whispered. Only he could hear himself plead. "But I can't..."
Baxter said nothing. He only chuckled as he flexed his hips and contracted with his hefty abs. The strain was immense. It felt as though some part of Fox's body was about to give way, permanently.
Sheath met rump with a jolt, so suddenly, Fox thought something should have popped.
The fox kicked. He screamed. His limbs strained and flexed to their fullest, but he still never touched the ground.
The hyena responded in kind. The knotting hindered his movements, but he still hammered into the yelping, helpless fox. A rapid series of miniscule thrusts, and before long, Baxter lost all sense of balance. To him, in this senseless, raping frenzy, it seemed like the floor rolled backward across the soles of his feet, then whipped around to strike his shoulders and the back of his head.
The sturdy, bulking scavenger didn't even flinch. He just kept plowing away, like a vulture devouring carrion.
In practically no time at all, the hyena's thrusts grew longer, tenser, more strained and forced, until his euphoria finally struck.
This time, Fox did indeed feel the hot, powerful seed shoot deep inside of him. Spurt after spurt went in; not a drop came out. His jaws locked open in a silent scream that echoed only in his mind, and he wanted nothing more than to go limp and promptly die.
Instead, Baxter freed him from his hold, only to place him in an entirely new one, and with good reason.
With no escape plan in mind and not a chance in hell, McCloud tried his luck and tried to roll off of Baxter's massive body, only to have a left hand clamp around his left bicep and a right hand dart around the fox's torso and clamp onto his left thigh.
Fox couldn't even bring himself into the fetal position. It didn't stop Fox from struggling, not until a stinging, cruel set of jaws clamped around his left ear.
"Don't worry, you're not pregnant," Baxter mocked through clenched teeth. All the while, the hyena's feet found traction and he worked the two of them across the elevator floor. "Besides, I'm not done."
With a few pushes backwards, as well as a couple bonus thrusts, Baxter placed his rounded, muscled rump right in the corner, Fox seated on his lap.
"Come on, now. Face me."
With seemingly little effort, the hyena used the fox's infinite flexibility to point one extended leg straight up toward the ceiling, rotate the vulpine's sensitive body until they both sat face-to-face, still inside. Baxter let go of the leg with total disregard.
It was this gesture of total control that drove Fox to place both hands on the hyena's shoulders, like when they had first met.
"Aww, look at that. You remembered." The hyena kissed him on the nose, before taking McCloud's wrists into his grip. "Try this."
Baxter took both of McCloud's hands and lifted them behind the fox, so that both of Fox's palms rested squarely against the back of his own head.
"Keep your hands there," Baxter calmly ordered. "Makes your arms look even bigger than they really are. Makes you look..." he took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "Mmmm, irresistible."
The hyena paused. Distracted by a thought. Fox's concentration felt unwillingly present, and sharp to a fault. Some sort of tension formed in his veins, like a child out past curfew.
"You know, I thought I heard somewhere that you worked as a stripper to get through that... uh, your academy."
Fox's tail drooped until it started to tuck under his rear. It wasn't true, but he had heard that rumor as well.
"That can't be," Baxter continued. "If you knew that, you'd act sexier out of habit. With you, it's all unintentional."
It was then that Fox noticed something. After entering the elevator, the hyena had--practically--not once used profanity, different from before.
"Tell you what," the hyena brought him back to reality with a firm slap on the ass and a flick to the balls. Afterwards, he lightly, surely, placed his hands on Fox's hips.
"If you can stand up, I'll let you go."
That knot wouldn't go down for at least another twenty minutes. Right now, it must have been at its hardest, its biggest. It was impossible. An exercise in stupidity.
Nonetheless, Fox had to try.
"Keep your hands on your head," Baxter reminded him.
With an involuntary whimper, Fox tucked his feet under his curling, matted tail, and tried to stand, which he soon realized to be completely impossible. The immense effort required to merely stand up required Fox to tighten the very muscles that kept the knot in place.
He couldn't budge. Instead, all he did was bounce up and down on the hyena's lap, his begrudgingly-erect cock slapping against Baxter's abdomen, much to his captor's enjoyment. The hyena's head rolled back at the pleasure it all brought to him.
"Hey, either you get off or I do. I'm not complaining..."
It wasn't working. Fox had to switch tactics. Instead, he knelt round Baxter's hips, and lifted himself forward using his quadriceps. Instantly, he met harrowing results, as his body seemed to give way around the invading member.
He felt Baxter's hands creep in, sliding under the fox's tail, just to feel how his muscles reacted to having something so massive pulled out from between them. Once Fox reached the halfway-point, the apex of the knot's circumference, the thought it proper that something should have snapped, or at least stretched permanently, but no such thing occurred.
As he felt his body close again around the retreating knot, it felt just as tight and insufferable as it did when first shoved into him.
And it was done. All that was left inside was the hyena's shaft, and once Fox adjusted his footing and began to rise.
Baxter leaned in and gave Fox's collarbone a quick, strong lick.
Fox's feet slipped.
In a fraction of a second, Fox had lost again. His rump instantly took in half of Baxter's knot, then slid, slowly, down the rest of the way. Completely unstoppable once the momentum had started. Fox's vision darkened around the edges. He tried not to faint.
"Well, I guess you _do_like it, after all."
Fox's ears pinned back; he took his hands off his head and wrapped his arms around Baxter's neck, and his legs around the hyena's waist.
"Just... get it over with."
"Well, we aren't gonna be done with this for a long time. Just you wait and see."
With a force that defied even his monumental size, Baxter rolled over, on top of Fox, and pushed on the fox's rump with his left hand, his right fixed around McCloud's throat.
"I wanna try something... fun."
It was cruel, it was brutal, and it likely brought the little fox great pain, but as Baxter acted out on his latest whim, he couldn't help but notice something.
Back and forth, in and out, the hyena would force McCloud to take the knot, then immediately pull it back out, and all the while, both of McCloud's hands were clenched around Baxter's right wrist, a natural response to being strangled, and something was amiss.
The fox was squirming, writhing in pain, but not well.
Not convincingly.
As if of its own accord, Baxter's pulled his hand away, and Fox did nothing. McCloud stayed still, hands tucked under his chin, like a puppy waiting for a belly rub.
Is he seriously letting me do this?
Baxter chuckled, giving his fox a mild slap on the haunch.
"Heh, you fuckin' slut."
At that point, Fox didn't merely submit, he outright accepted. Baxter lay gently on top of him, nestling the fox's body against his own. Fox's legs wrapped themselves around the hyena's waist, and after that, the only thing that moved were the hyena's hips, now letting the knot constrain his movements.
Baxter's confidence had never once faltered, but now, he only became bolder, knowing that the next time he found climax, it would be mutual.
And so it was. As it came to a close, Fox held to his captor for dear life, tail tucked between both of their legs. McCloud's orgasm felt muted, buried. Still, his body reacted as though it had been stabbed.
He felt paralyzed as Baxter pulled out of him for the final time. Fox's limbs fell away, held to the floor by his own broken will.
"Yeah, just like that," Baxter said as he stood. The hyena proudly stood, straddling McCloud, still stroking his massive shaft. "I know I've got one more..."
And Fox just lay, sprawled on the floor, like he had been decked by some haymaker a millennium in the making.
On instinct, he opened his mouth.
But the heavy string of cum hit Fox across the center of his chest instead, then another. The third stuck over his throat. By the time Fox had even shut his mouth, Baxter had reached down and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, stood him up, then he held the fox firmly to his side.
"Believe it or not, we're not done." And the hyena, with his pride yet again bolstered, hit the emergency button on the elevator's control pad; the lights came on again. The elevator continued to descend. In seconds, they reached the ground floor.
"And by 'we'," Baxter said. "I don't just mean you and me. Feel free to act shy."
Once the doors opened. Fox was forced out into the open by a sharp smack on the ass. The light blinded him, but he could sense something: men, and dozens of them.
Fox couldn't see, but he still covered himself on reflex, hands cupped over groin, head bowed, and eyes shut tight.
He felt a strong hand slide down his back. It grabbed onto his tail and jerked upward, pushing McCloud forward with a yelp.
"Look what I got, guys," Baxter teased as he showed off. A cacophony of random replies followed.
"Hot damn, you _wrecked_him!"
"Gotta be the most muscular twink I ever saw..."
"Holy fuck, is that Fox McCloud?"
"Is that McCloud?"
"Yeah," Baxter answered. "It's him, alright, and he's all ours." The hyena forced the fox forward, just as Fox's sight was returning, making McCloud stumble over... something.
Fox opened his eyes to find that he had been thrown onto a low, wide table, knocking over an ashtray and some half-empty hardfoam cups. He was in the midst of a gigantic, barren room. Walls of concrete, and small, high windows made him think that they must have been in some kind of old, abandoned prison. Given that Katina was originally founded as a Cornerian penal colony, that explanation seemed highly likely.
In the room with him were nearly thirty mercenaries, all of wildly varying heights and builds, most of them being much taller and heavier than he.
Baxter seated himself on a sofa adjacent to the table, and rested his heavy, dirty boots on Fox's prone back. Then, it became apparent that, throughout their entire encounter in the elevator, Baxter hadn't even removed his clothes. However, his pants were still undone around his hips, his manhood still on proud display.
"Two rules," the hyena said. "Rule number one, remember who's in charge." Baxter pointed at his own cock. "If you wanna fuck the fox, put my dick in your mouth. Think of it as a way of thanking me. Rule number two..." Baxter shrugged. "I'm gonna watch every last one of you fuck him on that table. Clear?"
"You kidding?" One of Baxter's crew, a mountain lion, strode up, already kicking his unclasped trousers off of his leg as he walked. Much lighter than Baxter but still much heavier than Fox, he had begun to strip before Baxter had finished outlining his rules. "I'd be your fuck-slave for life if it meant I could fuck McCloud."
The cougar dropped to his knees and briefly engulfed the hyena's massive length into his maw, all with obscene familiarity, like he was giving a quick kiss. He then saddled the table, took Fox's rump into his hands, and lifted the fox's hips to his waiting maw.
It started with a nibble on Fox's sac, then escalated into a slow, lazy lick on his abused cock. The cougar leaned back, pulling Fox with him, perching the vulpine's shaking body atop his massive, passively-dominant form.
The cougar placed a hand at the back of Fox's neck, forced the fox's muzzle against the base of his shaft.
"You know what to do."
Fox's body shuddered, then hesitated, then accepted, all before his mind had even processed the command. His maw relaxed and his tongue darted forward, glancing across the top of the cougar's shaft. It wasn't long before Fox's own shaft was pulled into the puma's eager mouth, and the puma's toned, powerful legs hooked around Fox's head, pinning the vulpine's mouth in place.
And so they lay, entangled in each other's limbs. Not once did the cougar's hands leave McCloud's pert--and oddly relaxed--ass. Every last one of Baxter's lecherous, powerful men watched ass the two defiled each other. The only ones not watching were busy paying the "price of admission."
Of course they're gonna watch, McCloud thought. Of course they're gonna take turns...
"H_e's_ dead... y_o_u kn_ow_..."
"I blast a whole in your throat, and you're still talking."
Katina whipped by at a fevered pace, no one else in the truck save for a suffering boar and a bird that had suffered. Calling it a truck was generous. It merely consisted of a chassis and a light energy shield to keep passengers from falling out. With no other vehicles around for kilometers, Falco didn't even need to touch the steering wheel. Nothing but flat plains for as far as the eye could see.
Save for a headset that he had recovered from one of the ferrets, the bird was still naked. The ferrets' clothes were far too small and the boar smelled of death. In this case, clothes were worse than nudity.
"Fe_lt _like shari_ng_," Sloague continued, leaning against the navigator "door" while still clutching at the hole in his throat. "Si_nce we sh_are_d_ su_ch an_ intimate moment together."
The boar's voice sounded like roadkill. Every word made him sputter and gag on his own blood.
As past experience had showed, the boar could easily subdue Falco in close quarters. He was dangerous; the only thing keeping Sloague from recapturing the pheasant was the blaster that Falco had pointed at his head.
Lombardi really wanted to pull the trigger.
"Last question," Falco said. "Just fifty more kilometers, and I'll find them, right?"
No response. Just a death glare.
"I fucking raped you," Sloague said. "Never forget that."
"I'll take that as a 'yes'." Falco deflected, before ending the conversation.
Lombardi deactivated the shield, lifted his legs, rotated in his seat, and planted both feet into the center of Sloague's chest. The force sent the boar flying, out onto the open road. The pig tumbled and flipped until he came to a stop, a battered, dusty lump in the dirt that only continued to shrink in the rear-view mirror.
"ROB, can you hear me?" Falco shouted into the headset. A response took nearly half a minute. The Great Fox was very far away.
"Affirmative,"
Falco rolled his eyes back in relief. He had a shot. He could save Fox.
"Listen. I'm gonna give you some coordinates. Get ready for an orbital strike."
"Is this not perfection?"
The lion and the tiger engulfed each other in a lewd embrace. Their flawless bodies twisted and grinded like they were dominating and submitting at the same time.
Because, in truth, they were both equally submissive.
The two felines kissed and moaned as they were both handled and held by their master. The dragon pressed into the desk, leaning over them, penetrating both at the same time, one cock in each cat. They moved in practiced unison, reptilian girth fitting both lion and tiger in a way that could only be achieved through perfect, precise training.
The dragon stood upright, claws still placed firmly on the writhing hips of its two pets.
"Are you two not the epitome of beauty?"
They didn't react. They didn't hear it. They were far too busy obeying.
--He's loose.--
The words floated into the dragon's mind with unwelcomed haste, words that were not its own. For a dozen moments, it merely ignored the warning. The day had nearly gone perfectly. His expectations had almost been met.
"To hell with it," it muttered to itself. The Dragon pulled away from his two pets, allowing them to continue writhing on the old, despoiled table.
It placed a claw against its own temple. It wasn't necessary, but helped it to focus.
--Where are you?-- the Dragon thought, before sending that thought far away. An image burst into his mind, a boar, lying limp in the dirt, gagging on dust and blood. The beaten, bloodied pig only had the energy to think, and hope that his master may be in the mood to hear his thoughts.
--Lombardi. The fucker's coming right toward you...--
The Dragon rolled its eyes, then angrily strode toward the door. It had orders to give. --I give you sight beyond sight, you catch the damned bird, and you let him get away?--
--Well,-- Sloague flustered. --he had a trick up his sleeve, except... he wasn't really wearing anything...--
--The twins?-- it asked.
--Alsen and Ellor? Shit, I think they're dead.--
--Doubtful,-- it continued. --For your sake, hope they survived.--
--Right now, I'm too busy hurting.--
--Just stay put and keep pressure on the wound,-- the Dragon advised as it stepped into the elevator. It marveled at its own ability to keep its temper. --We will be by shortly to retrieve you.--
By the time the Dragon had reached the ground floor, McCloud had been conditioned masterfully, practically molested into submission. It had "heard" all of Baxter's conditions, and appreciated the concept of the hyena's little game, however, the execution was a little bit... sloppy.
For example, Baxter hadn't taken into account that his favorite subordinate, a rhinoceros, would accept his terms. The fox-fucking table had given in instantly as the rhino stood on it, crushed into splinters under his massive, column-like legs.
McCloud lay helpless in his grasp, impaled by the creature's forceful rutting, buttocks forced wide, grinding against hardened, calloused flesh.
The fox's face was a marvel. Eyes shut tight, teeth clenched in a scowl of self-loathing and sheer pain. He was close.
Luckily, for everyone watching, the rhino was a master of breaking his victims, most often, through pure lust. The rhino loved performing in front of a crowd, just as much as the crowd loved to watch.
The couch was filled. Covered in muscular, naked, restless bodies. Almost all of the watching pirates sat, maw agape, conflicted in what they wanted and lusted for.
Each wanted their turn with McCloud, but they were enjoying the show, too.
That is, save for one.
"Alright, Damo, wrap it up," Baxter sighed, giving the rhino a beckoning gesture. "Quit playing with your food and get on with it. I've got mouths to fuck."
Without hesitation, the rhino obeyed. Damo grabbed McCloud by the scruff of the neck, and kissed him like he meant harm. His tongue forced its way over Fox's and demanded to be accepted. It forced McCloud's eyes wide open, just in time for Damo to give him a slap on the ass. Then, he leaned in, and pressed his gargantuan weight over the fox's shoulders, hilting him on the spot.
The rhino was silent as he climaxed, only letting out a low, shaky breath, then, he pulled out of McCloud with a sharp, unsteady tug, and tossed him into Baxter's lap.
"All yours," Damo said.
As soon as Fox was in arm's reach, Baxter used him like a toy. Before the vulpine could even try to struggle, he had already be used. Jaws clamped around the back of his neck. An arm looped around his abdomen. The hyena's cruel, invasive hand slid over Fox's thigh and grabbed onto his throbbing manhood. With a half-dozen fevered, ecstatic pumps, the fox climaxed, gushing for all to see.
The fox knew he had no power. He had no right to cover himself. All he could do was lift his arms back, hold them behind Baxter's neck, and ride out the wave of degradation.
Dozens of men watched him with hungry eyes. They watched him yelp and squirm in unwanted pleasure and lust.
The fox was simultaneously used as well as next-inline. That was this moment. McCloud saw no end, no possible route for escape.
_"We're leaving,"_the Dragon said.
Nearly everyone fell silent. A few groaned in disappointment, but none formed words in protest.
"Sure thing, boss," Baxter grunted, shoving the fox onto no one in particular as he jumped up off the couch. "We'll just tie him up and we can be gone in less than twenty--"
"He's not coming with us."
This time, no one was silent. At first, many laughed, not believing their leader to be serious, though a few had the right impression from the beginning, staring in disbelief. Slowly, the tide turned around, and a subdued uproar began to rise. A huge cacophony of varying complaints made themselves heard.
"Is he fucking serious?"
"What fucking changed?"
"Did I just suck Baxter's dick for nothing?!"
Baxter raised a hand.
"Hold it."
The Dragon clapped twice. The moment its palms struck together, everyone fell silent instantly.
Baxter stood, tossing Fox to the floor. The vulpine scrambled to grab his own tail and place it in front of him, between his legs, not out of rational thought, but of reflex.
Everyone was still, save for Fox, Baxter, and the Dragon. Fox look around and saw that no one even blinked, or, for that matter, breathed.
The Dragon...
_What did he do?_Fox thought. Baxter hadn't caught on.
"I speak for everyone when I say..." The hyena paused slightly as his master approached, gently stroking his face. "This is fucking bullshit."
The Dragon did not let him continue. Instead, he took hold of the hyena by the throat, and effortlessly lifted him to eye-level.
"Do you understand why you are different?" The Dragon said. The hyena's eyes grew wide, like he had realized that he had signed his own death warrant. "You realize why I allow you to keep even the slightest facet of control over yourself?"
The Dragon placed the hyena back on the ground, gesturing for him to look around. He saw dozens of followers, all motionless.
"What makes you different?"
Baxter hanged his head, balling his hands into fists. "Because I submit."
With a short breath of finality, the Dragon darted a hand into the back of Baxter's trousers, taking a firm hold, and judging by the hyena's expression, working deeply into him with a well-placed claw.
"What will you continue to do?"
The hyena threw his head back, now beginning to hyperventilate.
"I will submit..."
"You... what?"
"I SUBMIT!"
And there was silence. The Dragon pulled its hand free, and shoved the hyena on top of McCloud.
"Lick the fox clean. Every inch."
And then it clapped again.
Every last one of the Dragon's followers blinked simultaneously. They staggered slightly, looked at each other, then dispersed without a word. They began to accumulate their gear and placed it in organized stacks. Outside the building, half a dozen trucks started up. Baxter's comrades moved in a way that unsettled McCloud. They weren't synchronized or rehearsed, but they all moved with the same mannerisms, the same stoic expressions.
They moved like they possessed a hive mind.
"Tell me when you have finished your task," the Dragon said, parting ways and quickly leaving Fox's sight. Fox didn't have an opportunity to track the reptile's movements; he had already been pinned down by Baxter, and the hyena was seething, brimming with rage. Jaws clamped around McCloud's throat, making the fox's body go stiff. A restrained, aggressive tongue batted against Fox's throat, like a rolling wave, and then, Baxter settled into a rhythm.
Like a mindless beast, Baxter vacantly, rapidly lapped at Fox's fur, starting at the vulpine's windpipe and uniformly, methodically working down his slender, submissively-strong chest.
The hyena worked his way down Fox's chest, over his abdomen, and finally between Fox's legs. Now, more perplexed than embarrassed, McCloud didn't resist. He even parted his thighs of his own free will, in order to give his abuser an easier angle. In his mind, something clicked.
If Baxter failed to subjugate the fox, far worse would be done to him.
Nearly an hour had passed, and Falco had finally arrived. It had been the most stressful forty-eight minutes of his life, not only from the uncertainty of what happened to Fox, but also the near-certainty that he had arrived too late to save him.
When Falco had been thirty kilometers out, he had received a disheartening report from R.O.B. A mass exodus had begun. Heat signatures had shown a half-dozen cargo trucks had started and were leaving one by one. The staggering heat had made it impossible to differentiate the passengers of each one.
"R.O.B., how long ago did the last truck leave?"
Thirty seconds later, Falco dreaded the reply.
"Ten minutes ago."
"FUCK!"
Falco stormed out of the buggy and kicked the front tire with his bare, calloused foot. In an enraged rush, he grabbed the blaster out of the navigator seat, leaned over the buggy's hood, and took aim at the abandoned factory.
With no idea what to do, Falco fired a bolt through a glassless window and waited for a response.
Nothing.
With very close to no thought, the bird vaulted over his cover and rocketed into a dead sprint toward the building. The hyena's henchmen were gone; that was the only possible solution, but there was still hope. Lingering heat signatures, residue from equipment, even shed fur or scales would serve as a place to start.
I'm gonna find you, Fox, Falco thought to himself.
As he swung his bare, unprotected body over the jagged windowpane--and nearly carved a gash into his thigh--Falco made good on his promise, much sooner than he anticipated.
Fox lay on the floor, near the center of the massive, desolate room, the vulpine's naked body on its side, back facing Falco. At that moment, Falco panicked, so much so that he felt his vision shift.
Everything was shifting. Dust particles slid through the air, filling the light shafts that peered through the windows, acting like ghostly curtains between the two of them. The room felt empty and filled past capacity, all at once.
With speed that could only be perceived through a fever dream, Falco stumbled forward and knelt at Fox's side. He placed one hand on the McCloud's shoulder, the other on the hip, and rolled the fox onto his back.
The vulpine's face was relaxed; he looked peaceful. Almost too peaceful.
"F-Fox," Falco shuddered, cradling his friend's face. "If you're dead, I swear I'll--"
"Falco..."
Fox's eyes opened slowly. Calmly. Aside from his... subdued demeanor, he was untouched. Downright pristine, at least to Falco's eye. With no further drama, the fox pulled himself up into a seated position and pulled his knees into his chest.
"So," Fox said. "_How_exactly did we both end up naked?"
Falco stiffened, let out a tense chuckle, and rolled onto his back.
"By popular demand, I guess."
That moment hanged, dead in the air. Dust drifted by, and silence passed between them.
After what couldn't have been shorter than three minutes, Falco lazily brought a finger to his headset, and gave the order.
"ROB, send the dropship. We're coming back."
The flight back to the Great Fox was a brittle kind of tense. As Falco steered the long, box-like transport out of the upper layers of Katina's atmosphere, he knew that he was never to mention this particular ordeal to Fox ever again, or to anyone else, for that matter.
Something had happened.
The fox was well out of Falco's line of sight, sitting in the passenger section, leaning on his elbows, head still hanging. He was less than three paces away, but it still seemed too far.
Both Falco and Fox were still naked. Fox's clothes had been shredded beyond repair and Falco's were nowhere to be seen.
Something had happened to Fox. Something irrevocable. The worst part was that Falco had no way of telling what, in what detail, and in what way.
I could fall on a landmine at any time, Falco feared. Anything I say could trigger something.
"Thanks for saving me."
Fox had come forward first, like he always did. He was never the one to let hanging problems linger. Often, it made him seem a bit more arrogant than he really was.
Falco glanced back, unsure how to respond.
"I'm just... glad I was able to." It was all he could manage. It was true, but perhaps too sycophantic for what the pheasant was trying to convey.
"I can tell you're worried," Fox said as he stood. He slowly trod toward Falco. "Don't. I won't break. I can handle what they threw at me."
The fox's voice raised slightly. Louder than calm, quieter than upset. He was determined and slightly bitter.
In an unusual motion of camaraderie, Fox placed a shaking hand onto the pheasant's slack shoulder.
"They weren't gentle with me... though."
Fox bent down, ran a hand along Falco's chest, then kissed the bird on the cheek. It wasn't a traditional kiss, but a very canine one. Licking was involved.
Falco shivered in his seat.
What the hell is he doing?
"Again," Fox said. "Thanks."
As Fox returned to his seat, Falco quickly ran a hand over his own face, finding a light trace of his boss's saliva in his plumage. Without time for hesitation, Falco stuck his finger in his mouth, getting a taste out of curiousity.
What the hell am I_doing?_
"Hey," Fox spoke again.
"What?" Falco said, slightly on edge. Along with his reply, the bird turned on the autopilot, secured the yoke, then spun around in his seat, only to find Fox still standing, back turned. Although Fox's tail--in a minor, natural way--censored a great deal, Falco felt as though he were seeing more than he ever had before.
"How did..." Fox stopped, obviously trying to find the right words. "How are you keeping your cool right now? You're practically unfazed."
Falco's grip tightened around his knees. It seemed that Fox had stepped on a landmine instead. It didn't help that, by this time, the bird was already sporting a raging erection.
"I'm n--not unfazed," Falco said. "But I guess I do have some... solace." Falco shrugged at his own word choice. "Solace in the fact that I managed to get away."
Fox flinched.
Falco rolled his eyes, mostly at himself. "Look, I didn't--"
"You're right," Fox interrupted. He sat back down. "I couldn't help myself. They ran because they saw you coming. If you hadn't, I would've..."
Fox stopped midsentence, then hanged his head again.
"Remember when the bad guys only tried to kill you?"
Falco was silent, but only briefly. An alarm sounded on the control panel; he spun back around to check, and found that the Great Fox was ready to dock. With a few button presses and a thrown lever, Falco gave the autopilot permission to approach.
"Maybe," Falco said. "Maybe with all the fighting you've done, and the fact that everyone.... Uh, a lot of us has left... maybe some assholes out there don't just wanna be the guy that 'shot you'. Make sense?
Fox didn't answer. His tail curled upward in a very unnerving way. Ambiguous, too.
Once aboard the Great Fox. The two of them immediately moved to the locker room and showered, first thing. Upon entering, Falco instinctively grabbed at his waist, in order to remove clothing that he forgot was no longer there. Force of habit.
The bird spun the dial on full blast and forced himself into the unforgiving spray. After what he'd been through, he needed something drastic to distract him. It didn't help. Even worse, Fox had done something similar, and their reactions were totally different.
Falco, like always, nervously ran his hands up and down over his torso, as if he'd somehow warm himself up. His thighs crossed in an unintentionally feminine way, the natural response to the unnatural sensation of feeling one's tail feathers being matted down.
Fox didn't react at all. He just stood under his own spraying shower spigot and stayed perfectly motionless, fists clenched at his sides, eyes forward.
Just as the water started to warm up, Falco put his back to the shower spray, hoping to keep the water out of his eyes.
"Listen," the bird tried to intervene.
"Let's just... chill," Fox murmured, forcing his own hands to open. "You, me, a shitty movie, beer, cards, whatever."
The fox squeezed some shampoo out of the dispenser on the wall, immediately running the sticky green fluid to his abs. Once he worked up a lather, he forced some suds between his hands and placed his palms against his forehead, as if Fox were trying to bury his head.
"I just don't want to sleep."
Falco didn't react. Not right away. Instead he observed. Fox had been shaken in a way that neither of them had seen before. The glare in those green, live-wire eyes was something to behold. It showed fear, and anger. Falco could only acquiesce.
"Sure, man. Whatever you want."
"God damn you, Kreed," the lion gasped, sprawled on the floor and clutching at half a dozen sucking chest wounds. With his last breath, the dying villain reached for his revolver, just out of reach.
A boot stamped down on the lion's wrist, belonging to an albino wolf with more scars than personality traits. Silas Kreed, the renegade cop with nothing to lose. The wolf's boot twisted, breaking every bone beyond the lion's wrist.
The wounded creature howled in pain. There wasn't a part of his body unharmed enough to shelter his newly-crippled hand.
Kreed brought his signature weapon to bear, a fully-automatic double-barreled shotgun, with dual-bayonets to match. It was the most ludicrous weapon ever designed.
"First you fuck my daughter," The lion gagged. "Then you fuck me?! You ruined it! You ruined everything! God DAAAMN YOOOUR SOOOUL!"
"He'll have to get in line."
Kaboom.
Roll credits.
"A fuckin'...?" Fox's words stumbled as he took yet another shot. "Magazine-fed double-barrel shotgun? Really?"
"And that's why I love it," Falco countered, surveying the cards in his hand a calculating some form of strategy. "Zoness is the king of shit movies right now, and they're all hilarious. Turns out, if you don't have the military needed to repel a Venomian invasion, you tend to not know how guns work in the first place.
Falco leaned back and knocked back yet another shot.
"To me, the stupidity's hilarious."
The setup was the same as always. A rec room with a bar and galley built in made for a perfect place to do nothing. All that was needed was a loud action movie, light on plot; booze, heavy as hell; and absolutely no subtlety left between them. At long last, the two of them were dressed again. Falco just wore a t-shirt and baggy synthetic labor pants, no underwear, or even socks. Fox, by comparison, dressed far more strangely. He had to be wearing at least seven different articles of clothing: socks, shoes, probably some underwear, pants, shirt, vest, and even his signature scarf.
"Whatev-okay..." Fox replied. Soon enough, the vulpine's frustration showed. Cascade was a rather simple card game, and even then, Fox was losing. He had eight cards in his hand and none of them formed anything useful. He was already two cards over the limit; if he spent any of the cards he had right now, he'd gain even more, and his score would plummet further. "Fuck. I fold."
"You can't fold. You went all in!"
"I got no... no-thing, Falco!"
"Geez, Fox," Falco said, leaning in and taking the pile of credit chits on the table for himself. Something was definitely wrong, even worse than Falco had expected. Fox had always been a light drinker before, but now, the fox was knocking back harder than likely anyone had ever seen him drink. It's obvious that whatever occurred on Katina had shaken him, but Falco never thought that Fox would crack, especially this hard.
In truth, Falco had thought that something similar to this might happen, so in preparation, he had relatively little to drink. Still buzzed, but not wasted, like usual.
The pheasant tried to divert Fox's attention; he gestured with his eyes toward ROB, which was currently scrubbing and disinfecting the bar counter across the room. "I mean, ROB got blown out of the game a while ago. Calculating probability is its specialty. What's with the sudden change?"
"I set him to easy mode," Fox said, rubbing his face in his palm. "He only made the best possible decision... ten percent of the time. And then, he made the second _worst_possible decision every other time."
Falco leaned back, taking an uncomfortable deep breath and crossing his arms.
"Well, that explains a lot."
Fox sat still for a few seconds, then shuddered. He rested his snout behind a closed fist.
"...Falco?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you wanna fuck me?"
The bird nearly fell out of his chair. He then thought that he misheard the question. Not willing to fall into that trap, he tried to tackle it head-on."
Falco sighed, then scratched his forehead, brow furrowed.
"Where's this coming from?" Falco said.
"That's not..." Fox continued to lose his composure. "That's not like... an invitation or something, but... I'd like to know. It seems everyone does."
Shit. Falco's thoughts raced so quickly, his brain practically buzzed. Is that what they did to him? And I thought I had it bad...
Fox shook his head.
"Fuck. Feggit I said anythim..." The fox was starting to slur his words. He grabbed the deck of cards and started to shuffle. "Jus' ignore me."
If there was a time to intervene, it would be now. Taking the opportunity, Falco reached across and took the deck out of Fox's hands.
"That's enough," Falco nearly scolded. The bird hesitated, then made an addendum. "For now. Maybe we should get some rest. Besides, you went all in last time and lost. You got nothing to bet with."
Fox rolled his eyes, and without hesitation, snatched his scarf from off of his own shoulders and threw it on the table. It draped over the table's surface like a streak of blood.
Falco brow raised. "What are you--?"
"Zoness-style," Fox countered, taking off his vest and adding it to the pot. "Think of the scarf as a... buy in, since I got nothing." The fox's eyes fluttered, and his head tilted, not completely lucid.
"Are you kidding?" Falco shirked away, pushing himself away from the table. Just as he started to stand up, he heard Fox start to laugh.
"Come on!" Fox shouted, his grin more chilling than the sternest scowl. "What're you afraid of?"
Falco sighed, conflicted. This was wrong on nearly every level. Considering what they had just been through, Fox was starting to look even more damaged than before.
On the other hand, this could be his only chance.
"Fox," Falco explained. "It seems to me like you're trying to... continue your losing streak."
Fox laughed, yet again.
"So what if I am?"
Falco shuffled in place, cracking his knuckles and weighing his options. If he stayed, this could get weird in dozens of ways. However...
With all things considered, his top priority was to never let Fox out of his sight
One last time, Fox asked.
"Well?"
Fox found himself sprawled out on the ground eyes shut tight, falling through his memories in a reeling daze. He couldn't remember where he was, why he was there, or even how he got there.
He felt like his mind wasn't entirely his own, like a fog had crowded over his senses. He felt cold, and tired.
The floor beneath him was metallic and sticky. The scent of sex clung to his mouth and face. In short, he felt he would never be clean again.
And then Fox opened his eyes. Green dots everywhere...
That's when Panther decided to remind him.
Two massive, powerful hands clamped down around Fox's hips and flipped him onto his back, and without time for the fox to prepare, Caruso was on him again.
"Heh, welcome back, bitch."
What? Fox was at a complete loss, mainly because Panther was entirely not himself. If anything, he was acting more like Wolf.
It was then that Fox remembered everything. The creature, Wolf, the cell, Panther's predicament. It came back all at once.
"Did you know," Panther straddled Fox's chest and inspected his claws as he spoke. "That it's possible to climax after you've passed out? I didn't know that."
The feline then jumped back into place, lifting his entire, brutally massive body with just his arms, and settling himself down atop McCloud.
"Thanks for showing me that."
Fox's tail tucked, then his ears pinned back. Even though it was hopeless, he brought his hands up in an attempt to push the panther away. He was feeling his strength start to return.
It wasn't enough. Even on a good day, Panther greatly outclassed him in strength.
The cat grabbed Fox's wrists and forced them to the floor.
"Uh-uh-uh..." the cat taunted, his playfulness all but obvious. He licked the tip of Fox's nose, then proceeded to line himself up.
He had become so familiar with Fox's body, he could do so without his hands.
Just as he had dozens of times before, Panther forced his way into McCloud. Their hips met with alarming force.
"Ah!" Fox's cry barely made it past his throat, with Panther had just trapped in his slavering, hungry jaws.
"Just one more," Panther whispered, with his mouth full. "I've been counting. Don't worry."
"Hey!" A new voice entered the conversation, over the intercom. Wolf was not happy. "I did this to see rape, not pillow talk!"
"Fucking really?" Panther shouted, pulling himself out of McCloud and standing up, shouting at thin air. "You're ruining your own recording by talking, you know that right?"
"Hold it," Wolf interrupted. "Finish up, then you can bitch."
Panther rolled his eyes, then rolled Fox over. He had mounted Fox like a bitch exactly fourteen times in the last two hours. Recent experience had told him that it was the position that agreed most with the both of them.
They both got off faster when Caruso fucked him from behind.
The thrusts were fast and deep, rutting Fox against the floor in a way that had indeed happened before, but Fox hadn't been conscious to remember. In less than thirty thrusts, Panther had worked Fox into full breeding mode. The vulpine's tongue laid out onto the floor, his eyes rolled back without consent, and in less than one minute, he had climaxed, yet again.
Fox hadn't even known that such a feat was possible. It must have taken a master like Panther to truly bring about such effort.
Caruso finished with a ferocious roar, twitching and clutching at Fox, with very little seed actually being spent.
They had been going at it for quite a while.
"That's it," Panther said, dropping Fox to the floor, then turning about and facing the holographic camera. "You got what you wanted. Can I go?"
"Not quite," Wolf replied. "I don't like it when you're trying to talk behind my back. One more for good measure."
Once again, Panther rolled his eyes, then grabbed Fox by the scruff of the neck and held the dangling, exhausted Fox in full view of the camera. A worthless gesture, as the holocamera could see everything from every angle, but Caruso wasn't in a state of mind to give a damn.
"Alright McCloud," Panther sighed before wiping a streak of semen off of the fox's chest. "Ass or throat?"
Yes. I know that took an evil amount of time, but now we're back, and soon enough, Wolf will get his turn. Sorry for the long wait, as always. I guess I'm a lazy writer. Also, blame my family. I'm back for the summer and they almost never leave me be.
We will be seeing more of Falco in upcoming chapters, especially the "moment of truth" you were hoping for. Don't worry. It's coming soon.
After the plot gets a little further down the road, more and more explanations will arise. Every old member of Star Fox will be counted for. Every scene you've wanted to see will be seen.
Also, you'll be seeing some places that the games never bothered to actually show you before.
As always, comment, fave, and rate. Once the next chapter is up, I'll combine all three parts of this chapter into one big monster of a short story. Then, everything will continue like you wanted.
**Until then, have fun!
(Also the song I had in mind back when I _started_this damn thing... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ygeiQ6flo68)**