Pigma’s Comeuppance
Finally, Fox McCloud is taking his revenge on the one who betrayed his Father
Commission for Arcane
Pigma’s Comeuppance
Finally, Fox McCloud is taking his revenge on the one who betrayed his Father
“Who’s the bitch?”
“Me! I’m your bitch!”
“That’s right! And who’s your Daddy?”
“You!”
“You, who?”
“You! Fox McCloud! You’re my Daddy!”
The cries resonated within the dark, dirty condo. With no window leading outside, with only the barest of lights, the place was as dingy as possible. The air was stale, heavy with the implied scent of sex and cum. The AC wasn’t working. Most pieces of furniture were broken or covered with fluids or condoms…
It was less an apartment than a den… And at the center of this, in the ruined living room, had been placed a naked mattress on which a rough and brutal coupling was happening.
A strange and curious coupling, especially with the presence of a hero who no longer acted like one.
“Yeah! That’s right! And that’s what you deserve,” spat Fox McCloud, literally.
His spit landed directly in the Pig’s open mouth, forced open by the pain from having his right ear almost torn. The liquid, as disgusting and humiliating as it was, was swallowed by Pigma before, with another brutal kick, he was thrown on all fours, his head lowered.
“S-Shit,” he moaned in petto. Fox was furious.
Well, ever since Fox snapped and captured Pigma, he’d been furious and frustrated. He’d been that ball of rage who’d been dishing abuse after abuse on Pigma… Even now, the Pig could feel the spreader bar pulling on his testicles from the tied leather straps. He could feel the burn from that cowtag through to his ear. He could sense the clamps digging into his oversized and needy nipples.
And yet, the worst was the absence.
The absence of pain when Fox’s cock plunged inside Pigma’s cratered and swollen asshole.
It didn’t hurt when that shaft, practically as big as a forearm, stretched Pigma’s insides and made them bulge. It didn’t even hurt when the Pig’s prostate was getting squashed so brutally that he came on the second.
And it didn’t even hurt when that cockcage, cheap and plastic, was digging into the Pig’s oversized balls.
It had all happened so quickly, so fast. It should have been another simple run, another time capturing a ship and taking hostages. But it wasn’t. Fox went there alone. Fox did not try to be diplomatic or to coerce Pigma into releasing the hostages.
No… Fox came with nothing but his blaster… And it was enough.
When Pigma woke up, he was in that condo, bound and gagged. The place had been abandoned for years; it seemed. It could have been a perfect hiding spot. And yet, it had become his cell.
It had become where Fox would come, checking Pigma’s health before fucking the Pig’s brain out. And not only.
Each time, he brought something different. Each time, Fox seemed to change. Fox seemed to become more unhinged. To become someone else from the goody two-shoes pilot he’d been. And each time, Pigma was regretting crossing Fox’s path.
At first, it’d been the fucking. Then the pills. The injections. The toys constantly inserted. The chastity cages that became smaller and smaller. The bowl filled with cum from which Pigma had to eat. The tattoos etched on his belly, then over his nascent moobs.
It was a long list of actions and brutality that grew… And each time, Pigma was left bare, exhausted, drained, sore… And yet pleased.
That time, it seemed to be no different.
The novelty had been the spreader bar that pulled on Pigma’s testicles, making the round testicles look practically red and bloated. Bloated fruits, Fox was even yanking and squeezing in a vice grip as he was balls deep into Pigma’s black-and-blue ass.
He smacked, he hit, he thrust. And Pigma… Pigma squealed.
He kept squealing, feeling too exhausted even to fight the need to. Fox, as unhinged as he was, was making him feel good. Pleased, made him feel different.
It wasn’t the same man. It wasn’t… Fox.
But that version knew how to play with Pigma’s buttons. It knew how to crush the Pig’s prostate to make him squeal, where to squeeze to have him beg, where to pull to get the pleas.
And again… As Fox pulled out, leaving the asshole covered with cum and dripping. He huffed. He huffed and reached for Pigma’s nuts, smacking them.
“Look at you,” he said, out of breath.
His voice was even deeper, with a grave tone. Practically the same as his old man, James.
“Look at you,” grunted Fox. But Pigma couldn’t look at himself; there was no mirror.
Even then, what could he see? A criminal handcuffed with his posterior raised like a cheap whore, his body hooked on so many drugs and hormones that it no longer looked the same?
There was no denial that Pigma couldn’t be recognized. Those moobs grew heavier by the day. His cock, he couldn’t even feel it in the cage. And his ass? It practically burned when Fox wasn’t blowing it.
Fox’s hand landed on Pigma’s posterior, spanking it. And with it, the sphincter clenched, releasing a spurt of cum onto the floor. The Pig rolled his back, trying to look smaller than he was.
“Pathetic. My father believed you. And you are there… A worm,” huffed Fox, grunting and delivering one kick.
One single kick. And Pigma squealed. His nuts were hurting so much; they were so full, feeling so bloated. The pain sparked from them and ran across his body, along his spine, right to his brain.
He squealed while feeling the shot of pain and lust mingling together. It shouldn’t have happened, but the drugs in his system made it so. He knew it… He was kept hooked so he couldn’t escape.
Pigma rolled further and dropped to his side, all the while trying to bring his legs closer to his chest… Only to feel the tug on his nuts. The bar.
“I finally captured Andross. How does it feel?” said Fox, huffing and kicking Pigma’s posterior.
“It’s… It’s good!” said Pigma, squealing and staying in that fetal position.
“Good? Do you know you betrayed my Dad for peanuts?”
“He-”
Pigma opened his mouth… He turned his head, looking at Fox, watching that irate expression.
Watched that young stud whose body was entirely exposed, with that coat of yellow and white… But even though it was the same voice as James, the same body as James… It wasn’t James. Nor was it Fox. It was someone else.
“He what?” said Fox, kicking Pigma’s balls again, sending the Pig rolling, crying, and spilling his weak shot all over the plastic cage and over the soiled mattress.
“He had plans to get you captured and killed, just like he did with my father. If you were a liability. Too bad you were too stupid, and I was too fast for him,” huffed Fox.
His disdain was written all over his face as he turned his head to the door, hearing a knock.
“Good. It arrived,” said Fox, smiling. But his animosity didn’t disappear. It remained on his face as he stepped away, leaving Pigma writhing and quivering.
In pain, from head to toes. If it weren’t for the drugs, maybe Pigma would have passed out. Instead, the Pig remained keenly aware of what surrounded him, of the bruises all over his body… And something.
Fox’s pants.
If Fox were like his father, it would be impossible for Fox not to have his communicator in his pockets. For a second, Pigma glanced over his shoulder, where Fox was. He was chatting with the delivery guy, like he always did.
So, Pigma turned and extended one hand to the pants, reaching for the pockets and finding it, the communicator. Unlocked.
Cold shivers ran over Pigma’s back as he fiddled with the communicator. His fingers, bruised and in pain, snapped as fast as possible to type the transponder code he’d been given. It was a canal that only two people would know.
And as the communicator connected, the second person spoke.
“Pigma? Do you think I have the energy to deal with you?”
“You need to help me!” squealed the Pig, his voice low.
“To help you? For what? What do you want?”
“Just… Just save me! Here are the coordinates! Please! Be fast!”
With a button press, Pigma sent the coordinates. A mere beep confirmed the transmission before Pigma cut the call and threw the communicator into Fox’s pants.
And one minute later, Fox was back with a pizza, eating it before he would ruin Pigma again.
It was almost routine, nearly a similar outcome for Pigma as he was forced to endure the hits, the smacks, the spankings until his posterior was so sore he couldn’t even think to sit on it. And it wasn’t the worst.
By the end of the evening, Pigma was practically in a fetal position, trying to keep his hands close to his groin while his entire body was afire…. More so, the kicked-up nuts and the abused asshole.
But even his arms were bruised as he saw Fox stand up and flag him.
“See ya next time, bitch!”
Then, as usual, the door was locked from the outside.
Leaving Pigma and allowing him to breathe, rest, and recover in the dark. The terrible dark that was, in a way, soothing as he breathed, huffed.
“Yeah… I’ll be out by then,” huffed Pigma, grunting as he waited.
Wolf had received the signal, and there was no doubt that Wolf O’Donnell would come. The aging bastard had a rivalry with Fox, and he would do anything to fuck Fox over. That was something Pigma had tried to knock out of him, but it proved to be a stupid choice.
One, he was almost glad not to have followed through as he rolled on the mattress, feeling sticky and dirty.
And hungry, though he checked with his blind fingers and found the rations Fox always left him. Laden with chemicals, they were one reason Pigma looked like shit. At the same time, he couldn’t… he couldn’t just let himself die of hunger, so he hated feeling the sting in the back of his throat and down his stomach.
The acrid taste would never disappear, even with water… So Pigma was used to it as he waited.
The apartment was locked from the outside, and most ports inside were busted. Even if he could find a port that hadn’t been burned, by trashing the place, he couldn’t hack through. And for what? For Fox to notice and beat him black and blue? No… Pigma waited, nursing his body in the dark and planning what he’d do.
First, recruit Wolf for his revenge. Then, find weapons and another ship. Perhaps then he could do milk runs as a smuggler to get enough credits before he’d be capable of fixing his body and… Take his revenge properly.
A thought, a hunger, that kept Pigma alive and well when he heard shuffles on the other side of the door. Whispers, too.
It could not be Fox since he was always alone, hence… A smile crept on Pigma’s face, his eyes glimmering with energy as he sat on the mattress.
His body was still hurting, worse for his legs and nuts. But he could walk and leave. A thought he confirmed when he stood up as the door opened.
Light flooded in, almost blinding Pigma as he watched and noted the signature silhouette of Star Wolf through the threshold.
“Wolf! Let me get out of that place!” said Pigma, tottering forward.
Yet, Wolf advanced. His boots hit the ground as he advanced, his sole eye focused on Pigma with a strange… Interest? He eyed him down.
“Yeah, Fox-“
Pigma was about to explain, yet Wolf’s hand pushed the Pig back, made him lose his balance and drop onto the mattress, ass first.
“What the hell?” shouted Pigma… before he froze.
Wolf was not done. He opened his vest, his hand reaching inside as if he were pulling a hidden blaster.
“Wait-! Wait!” shouted Pigma, watching the glint of the metal. “I can help you!”
A second after that, Pigma blinked and watched the gun fly and smash into a nearby wall, breaking into pieces. A sight that left Pigma surprised before Wolf opened his vest entirely.
No, more than that. He threw it away, exposing himself entirely.
Then, it was his boots Wolf kicked off, his pants, leaving Pigma confused, puzzled, and horrified all the same.
Then, without a word, Star Wolf was naked. And the apartment’s lights turned on.
For a second, Pigma was… Stunned.
Wolf was there; it was undoubtedly his… But he looked different. Wider thighs, plump chest, roundish belly. It didn’t look like the Wolf Pigma used to work with. Instead, Wolf seemed to reflect what Pigma looked like.
Down to the chastity cage, flat and digging into Wolf’s sheath and the rings holding his tiny nuts tight.
Worse, he wasn’t entirely naked. A belt was cinched around his belly, with condoms dangling from it. Packs, unused condoms, full condoms. All sorts of condoms, while Wolf smiled.
His nipples had barbells through them and looked ridiculous as they were pink nubs popping out of his grey fur. The fur on his thighs had been dyed to look like arrows pointing at his groin, with insulting comments.
And then… There was the symbol. Pink, glowing ink, unmistakable… Star Fox Team.
The running vulpine was etched on Wolf’s belly. Pigma watched… As he watched a familiar face pop from behind Wolf and grip the criminal by the neck.
A second later, Wolf turned his head and kissed Fox McCloud. Their muzzles met, their tongues coiled, their saliva exchanged until a fine line joined them. A thread of saliva, Wolf slurped through some, which landed on his hairy chin as he turned to Pigma and was forced to advance with a tap.
“Fuck… H-He got you, too?” asked Pigma, stunned.
“F-“ began Wolf, halting and looking over his shoulder to Fox, encouraged. “Master Fox knew you’d contact me. When you did, I warned him.”
“I-… He fucked you!” huffed Pigma.
“No. Master Fox taught me to be a good bitch.”
A snicker came from behind.
“That’s… That’s crazy, Wolf! You- We! We should fight him!” said Pigma, trying to stand up… Only to have Star Wolf pounce on Pigma and send him down.
The hands locked on Pigma’s shoulders. With his entire weight on him, Wolf pinned the Pig down while his eyes were locked on the thrashing pirate.
“Release me, Wolf!”
“No. The master told me you need help with your training. Let me show you,” said Wolf, droning on.
“He fucked you up! Snap out of it!”
“There’s no point,” answered Wolf. “The master always wins. You should learn… Hrmph… This.”
Pigma was about to spit back an answer… But something. No, someone held the Pig by his sensitive balls. And with the weight of Wolf O’Donnell on him, Pigma couldn’t move. He could only guess it was Fox doing something to him.
It was only with Wolf arching his back Pigma saw what had happened: his balls were tied.
A rope held them tight, brutal around the Pig’s balls.
One that was, after a second glance, linked to Wolf’s genitals, too. But Wolf? He was only smiling through the ordeal, more so when his hips began to hump and pump, pulling on Pigma’s balls.
“Fu-Fuck! What are you doing?” cried Pigma, his face contorting in pain from having his balls tugged on with such violence, with such abuse.
“He’s doing nothing,” answered Fox’s voice, cocky and mocking.
“N-Nothing?”
It didn’t seem so. At the same time, Wolf’s expression looked… Gone. His mouth was open and dripping onto Pigma’s face. His eye rolled. And even his ears dropped in an unfeigned expression of pleasure.
Of abandon. Of delight completed by the sound of suction and… yes.
Pigma saw it… Saw Fox’s legs from under Wolf, saw that vixen being at work, fucking that Wolf.
“Oh, Master,” whimpered Wolf, hardly swallowing his saliva. “Your cock is so good.”
His cock, just as locked as Pigma's, dripped on the Pig’s belly and groin, coating his genitals. Whenever he moved, whenever Fox thrust inside the Wolf, it was for the rope to yank on Pigma’s balls, making him wince and whine.
“And it’s all for you, bitch,” encouraged Fox, his voice softer than when he spoke with Pigma. Even his hands, fiery yellow, sometimes appeared over Wolf’s shoulders or sides, stroking them, playing with the fur.
He hadn’t done so with Pigma, never even as much as caressed his skin. It was always biting, hitting, and scratching. Yet, here was that bastard fucking Wolf like a bitch… And Wolf answered with awe and moans. With loud huffs whenever Fox’s thrust shook his body and made him always totter forward… An action that ended with Pigma’s balls being pulled again, and for that pain to surge through.
It should have been the same for Wolf. Yet, that bastard smiled and even moaned louder whenever his balls were pulled. He was…
“Get it, now?” asked Fox, his cocky attitude practically outgrowing Wolf’s. “You get what’s happening here?”
Pigma gulped, watched… And gargled when Wolf’s saliva dripped all over his face, as that jaw dropped and that spit was all over the Pig’s face while… Something warm and hot landed on Pigma’s belly, coating it. Making him feel what he couldn’t have, an orgasm.
Star Wolf was cumming on him… And Pigma could not do a thing, not even raise his fingers. Or he could, but he couldn’t even push Wolf’s away. Too weak, too brutalized, too sore. And he wasn’t counting Fox’s weight as the vixen continued to hump and pump, pulling on Pigma’s nuts each time while Wolf’s whines grew.
And grew… And grew. Until again that bastard came all over Pigma’s belly, again.
Fox himself sighed, slowing down his movements. They… They came. And yet. Pigma only received pain. Pain. And frustration. And fear as he gargled and watched Fox’s enter his field of vision… A mask of anger and frustration.
“We are not done yet,” said Fox, once more thrusting. And yanking on Pigma’s balls.
This time, however, it was with enough strength that Pigma squealed and teared up. Knowing… Aware that there was no solution.
“You’ll never betray a member of your team ever again, bitch.”