Loser Takes All
This is one of my stranger commissions, all things considered. It's ostensibly about Bowletta, the gender-ambigious Fusion Dance version of Bowser and Cackletta featured in Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga, but it also has to do with Super Smash Bros., and I went to some lengths to flesh out the idea of a multi-dimensional tournament where everyone shows up to beat the shit out of each other. :V
I had some fun with this, is what I'm trying to say. <:3
For anyone wondering, Bowletta's use of third-person pronouns are her speaking like royalty, not because she's some kind of split consciousness.
Thumbnail background is from Textures.com. Bowletta sprite from Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga, dumped by A.J. Nitro for The Spriters Resource.
Writing (C) me
Concept (C) IB: whitewhiskey
Bowletta, Fox McCloud, and related characters and franchises (C) Nintendo
Enjoy my writing? Want to see more illustrations and collaborations? Please consider pledging to my Patreon!Ceeb's Patreon
--1
The stadium was peaceful, almost quaint with empty seats in the midday. The jumbotron flickered dull, unfocused imagery, and so was the audio system being dully tested by a meekly-spoken koopa and a few other roadies from the Mushroom Kingdom.
In less than eight hours, every seat would be occupied by cheering fans from across the scattered worlds, all packed in to see their champions clash. The opportunity came when the many fabrics of reality brushed together in just the right way to make such a massive crossover of realms possible. Like clockwork, this meeting of worlds occurred every five years, and the window of travel lasted just under a month. Eager companies were all too glad to sponsor the fights.
A week into the month, all of the contestants had migrated to the most central world where the stadium awaited. Each world was allowed to host its own fights, and these venues were as varied as they were personalized to the residents of a given world. Home advantages were common and even encouraged, but for those reasons, the stadium was the alpha and omega of the entire tournament. The fighting opened there, and so did it end there when but two fighters remained.
But there was no fighting yet, only preparation, and the stadium was peaceful. Hanging in the atmosphere, visible to the naked eye alongside countless other vessels, was the mothership of the Star Fox squadron. Lower still in the sky, drifting along under its own power and at the mercy of the air currents, was Bowser's airship - but the King of the Koopas himself was not aboard, and neither was its new master, whom had touched down hours before, leaving behind an unlucky skeleton crew who could only watch the battles from their TV sets aboard.
Bowletta, the toothy result of a Beanbean witch's possession of Bowser, lumbered to the head office at rear of the stadium. Camera flashes from excited tourists of all backgrounds made her squint and grumble, yet she did not stop to scold them. The flashes aggravated her, but the attention was a thrill.
Inside the office, like any other administrative building, was a muted atmosphere in sharp contrast to the hysteria of the gathering crowds. She neared the sign-in terminal and planted her leathery yellow mitt on its scanning pad.
Following a brief scan and a cheerful, electronic chirp from the apparatus, Bowletta was in the system, and the machine dispensed a laminated ID card. Her registration taken care of, the koopa-bean-hybrid looked through the list of contestants. She cracked a big, menacing smirk when she saw that the famous plumbers were absent. So was the King of the Koopas - but, in a way, she thought, he was present.
As she made to skulk away and await her first fight, Bowletta heard a playful giggle from the lobby. She recognized the laugh: it came from Princess Peach. Grinning big and wide as she often did, Bowletta stepped out into the lobby. Her thick bust, underneath a tank top, entered the room before she did.
"There you are," Bowletta slyly said to the princess, pretty in pink with her formal dress. Bowletta whom had recently seen the princess in so much less thought her to be very overdressed but kept the notion to herself. "We," Bowletta made it a point to speak of herself in the royal third person, "haven't seen you since you left the Koopa Cruiser. Needed your fresh air, did you, lovely?"
Peach turned to Bowletta and smiled timidly. "Oh, yes. You know, there really is no substitute for putting your feet on solid ground..." The princess turned back to her conversational partners - other assorted contestants - but found that they were staring worrisomely at Bowletta's colossal, muscular form.
It was not in Bowletta's repertoire to smile sweetly, and even her most genuine expression of friendliness was sinister. With her half-lidded pink eyes and perpetual smirk, she appeared smug and cruel to those in the lobby. They quietly, politely disengaged Peach and gave Bowletta a wide berth on their separate ways.
Alone with the princess, Bowletta loomed large over the girl and braced her palm on the wall. Shadowing the princess and throwing her luminescent eyes into contrast, she snickered and tickled up under the lovely blonde's chin. "Surprised you can walk straight. We didn't believe that you'd make it off the ship."
Peach's cheeks glowed cherry red. She leaned against Bowletta's hard bulk and the Koopa Queen hugged her mildly, then kissed her head at the base of her crown. "Forgive me. I should have asked your permission, your majesty."
"Yes, you should have," Bowletta growled. She pinched Peach's rear then gave it a swat. "Do you require yet another lesson, dear princess?"
"I do not," Peach quietly answered. "I promise you that."
"Might just teach you one anyway," said the koopa, then she gnashed her teeth. This was not a tic of Bean folk, but one inherited by her possession of Bowser's dragon-like body. The mannerism suited her especially well with her terrifying teeth, however. "Do as you wish, enjoy the tournament and your fights, but you'll be in our quarters on the Koopa Cruiser at midnight, dear."
Before Peach could agree, Bowletta had already begun to strut away. The lovely princess bit her lower lip and shivered at the thought of what was to come.
--2
Dusk fell, shrouding the crowded sky in orange and pink hues, and with the new colors on the horizon came the preliminaries. These early battles had little bearing on the tournament proper, being performed to test the infamous hazards and weapons of the year's tournament, fine-tune the skill classes, and of course entertain the masses. At such an early and informal point, the matches were selected by raffle, and the fighters were told just an hour in advance who their opponent was.
Fox got the news in his quarters aboard the Great Fox. The happenings below in the stadium filled his view screen with wild colors and impressive, and at times unconventional martial arts, but Fox wasn't watching the fight. He was looking at Bowletta's fighter profile. It listed her as next-of-kin to Bowser, their exact relationship undefined.
The swaggering ace pilot Falco let himself in, chuckling in his smug way. "'Ey, Foxy, you get your opponent yet? Me, it looks like I'm gonna be fightin' that pointy-eared fairy dude with the sword."
Fox smirked and tossed his tablet at Falco. The bird snapped it out of the air without taking his eyes off of Fox, then looked coolly at the screen. "Jeez, looks like Bowser had him a sex change."
"That's how it looks to me too," Fox said, suddenly lunging at his punching bag. He drilled it with punches, swung his heel into it in a roundhouse kick, and finished it off with a haymaker, slinging the wounded, taped-up bag against the hull wall. Huffing in exertion, he boasted, "She's got nothing on me. I bet she moves like a turtle."
"Heh! She is a turtle if she's Bowser's..." he paused and shrugged. "Whatever she is to 'im. Sister, mom, whatever." Falco dropped the tablet on the bed. "You's up before I am, anyway. I'll be rootin' for ya, buddy."
Taking into account the time needed to get ready and be ushered into the stadium, Fox and Falco took their Arwings gracefully down to the surface. As they landed them side by side in the stadium's lot, which like its sky bore all sorts of crafts, fans and film crews alike documented it. Fox and Falco were exuberant in the attention. A Toad wearing press badges, whom had to stand on his tip-toes to get the mic high enough for a sound bite, asked Fox if he was ready for his scuffle with Bowletta.
Fox helpfully took the mic from the Toad. Sneering into the camera, he said, "I don't think she can even lay a claw on me. I can handle anything she's got."
The fox's boast caused a stir, but Fox peeled himself away from the crowd. His match was ten minutes away. The reporters closed in on Falco and inundated him with questions instead. The falcon was all too happy to indulge them.
Bowletta watched the live news feed from the locker room, pumping a dumb bell. Princess Peach, with her hair in a ponytail and her body looking fine in a pink sports bra and matching gym shorts, rubbed the koopa's shoulders.
"He can handle anything I've got, huh," Bowletta dryly said, her expression lacking amusement. Peach chuckled nervously. "Change of plans, dearie. You do whatever you wish tonight. We shall be yanking a knot in his tail tonight."
Peach was relieved, but just barely. She was disappointed in spite of herself.
--3
Ringing the stadium's platform was a pitch dark pit which was a one-way shortcut into the subterranean bowels of the venue. It was remarkably well-cushioned below and along its walls, and teams of paramedics were on hand with the best care available in all the interconnected worlds; no injury was too severe to not be repaired within the hour. Bowletta looked over the edge of the extended catwalk as she crossed from the locker rooms, to the staging area, to the stadium floor. Across the arena, Fox McCloud approached.
Spotlights came on, vanquishing all shadows in the stadium. The murmuring crowd jumped to life with hysterical, screamed cheers, many holding up banners and wagging their novelty foam digits. Bowletta was pleased to see her name spelled on sequential t-shirts. More fans still effused support for Team Star Fox, but that was just as well for Bowletta. Back in her homeland of the Beanbean Kingdom, along with its recently annexed land consisting of the Mushroom Kingdom, Bowletta was a star. She didn't mind being a little more low-key outside her dominion.
When the fighters met in the middle, Bowletta intentionally broke her upright and proper posture. She hunkered down, sticking up the spikes on her shell. Her arms bent at the elbows, her big fingers outstretched and claws out. It was King Bowser's posture and it suited Bowletta's muscular body just as well.
"Still think you can handle us, boy?" she witheringly asked, tail swaying in primal delight.
The fact that Fox was given a staggering look down into Bowletta's sports bra disturbed his focus, but his mind was mostly on the fight. He assumed the posture of his self-taught form of martial arts and nodded smartly. Magnified on the jumbotron, the self-assured gesture sent the crowd into a frenzy.
A familiar bell sounded and Fox, as if trained to react to it, lunged on Bowletta faster than she could anticipate. He swung his gloved fists for her flat face but the koopa withdrew in sharp reflex. Fox's fist grazed her teeth and caught her lip but caused her no harm. Briefly her grin faltered, but then it tightened, growing disconcertingly more twisted. The next time Fox swung on her, this time with a karate chop and a cry to match, she blocked it with her wrist and rebuffed it, sending Fox twisting away from her.
Fox pushed his assault. He flew at the muscular turtle-beast, landing a punch in her gut to no effect. Realizing the durability of his foe, Fox leapt from the floor and swung his leg with all his weight behind it.
Knowing the leg was coming right for her face and that the steel boot at the end might actually hurt her, Bowletta thrust out a meaty palm and caught the fox by the ankle. Cackling wickedly in her triumph, Bowletta slung Fox against the floor once, then twice. All life seemed to drain out of him and the crowd reacted mostly with shock and disgust, but some among them were ecstatic to see Bowletta cleaning up.
Bowletta tossed her foe like a ragdoll. He slid across the faux grass turf of the stadium, tumbling and catching on it. He fell over the lip into the inky blackness but came to his senses in time to grab the edge. As he pulled himself up, the crowd escalated into an encouraging roar. Bowletta closed in, gnashing her teeth.
Spawned into life by a dispenser in the floor, a blaster not unlike the ones Fox was accustomed to using in his line of duty awaited. He dived on it, slipping quite literally through Bowletta's groping mitts. She ended up ripping some fur from his tail tip.
"Catch this!" he barked, assuming a dramatic shooting posture. He let loose one bolt after another, missing once, impacting Bowletta's thick bust with the next. A hole seared through her sports bra, exposing a lot of yellow hide and a little bit of muted orange areola. The crowd reacted with laughter and cheers at the nip slip, but Bowletta was unfazed, and Fox was too concerned for his own life to stare.
Dodging a third blast but wishing not to feel another on her hide, Bowletta whipped around in the blink of an eye, ducking her head into her shell and presenting its spiny back to Fox. He unloaded more bolts, and they sizzled satisfyingly against her shell, but caused no harm beyond scorches. Finally the gun clicked, its charge depleted, and Fox tossed it aside into the abyss.
Realizing her foe had wasted his ammo, Bowletta showed her head and twisted around again and thrust herself at Fox with speed unthinkable for such a burly creature. She shoulder rammed him, bowling straight over his lithe body, stomping his gut as he fell beneath her. There he momentarily lay, clutching his belly and wheezing for breath, but he rose to shaky legs and defiantly presented a fighting stance.
The crowd was riveted. Fox's companions watched in revulsion and fear. Fox himself watched in slow motion as Bowletta's closed fist came at his face like a meteor. It connected, and his lights went out. His body flew, limp and lifeless, into the darkness surrounding the arena. He would be no worse for wear within the hour, but his fans were devastated. It mattered not. Most of the crowd exploded into thunderous cheering and applause at the sheer energy of the fight. Bowletta might have had a hole in her bra, but she ate up the attention, grinning and flexing for the jumbotron's camera as she strutted off to her locker room.
--4
Bowletta slunk into one of the showers and threw away her ruined sports bra. Because she led a life of decadence as queen of the Beanbean-Mushroom Kingdom, she also threw out her intact shorts on principle.
With her first victory and harboring the notion of taking the championship home, the content Bowletta stood under the shower head and let scalding water rinse her hide. Her thick, full breasts were pert, held taut by their own hide, and her nipples were soft in the hot, humid air. The heat had a similar softening effect on her enormous penis, making the flaccid meat dangle lower than usual. It hung to her knees, well below her balls. So relaxed was Bowletta that even scrubbing her erogenous zones did not arouse her.
The muscular koopa dried off while the last of the suds circled the slow drain. She hummed a cacophonous tune as she rubbed her belly, patted her breasts and flossed her groin. It was impossible for her hide to be completely dry in the humidity of the shower room. She ignored the dew still clinging to her body and tied the towel around her waist.
Later in the evening, Bowletta planned to visit the healed Fox McCloud and perform an encore of her domination, albeit in another fashion, but lucky timing and nothing more brought him into the shower room as she entered its locker-filled entryway. When Fox saw her, he became like a feral tomcat in a territory dispute. He splayed down his ears, showed his teeth, and started to pass Bowletta by circling her in a very wide berth.
The koopa snickered malevolently, making her thick bust heave and jiggle slightly. She quite obviously put herself between Fox and the way into the showers. It would have been easy enough for him to sidestep her, yet he faced off with her on principle.
Leaning coolly on the lockers, her genitals hidden beneath the towel, Bowletta stared Fox down and grinned. "You can handle anything we've got," she dryly paraphrased. "Wasn't that the gist of it?"
"Well, clearly, I was mistaken." Fox took great pains to sound like a modest loser. Bowletta might have been projecting, but she thought Fox seemed petulant. "So, excuse me."
Bowletta stopped Fox with a warm hand on his shoulder. She tutted softly. "Now, now, little man. Here we are, just the two of us, no strange eyes and no pesky rules." She licked her lips and reasserted her wicked grin. "Think you could handle us now?" For all her terrible size and the evil in her eyes, Bowletta proved herself a sensual being when she teased with her claw from the fox's navel to his chin.
Fox visibly shivered, laying his bare paws over Bowletta's massive hand. What had been a scowl on his face turned to something more easygoing, but his eyes remained intense. "Handle you, huh," he mused, suddenly lashing out with a paw. He snatched Bowletta's towel by the knot and gave it a tug.
Because of the disparity in their sizes which put Fox's eyes at Bowletta's crotch, the ace pilot expected to start on his foe with a lap across her cunt. Instead, when the towel came away, her sizable cock dully slapped his snout.
Bowletta cackled monstrously and pressed Fox against the lockers. All bets were off. "Take off those clothes, boy!"
"I--, uh--, and what if I don't?" Fox snapped, glaring up at Bowletta.
Of course the koopa glared back, and her pink eyes were a thousand times more intense than any stare the pilot could muster. She gnashed her teeth, slinging spittle in his face. "We will not waste breath on threats when you know exactly what we could do to you if we so desired," she hissed, and then her hands grew terribly hot against his shoulders.
Fire magic consumed the pilot's clothing, radiating outward from her point of contact. Fox gasped and thrashed, flinging away burning, dislodged clumps of his uniform. The clothing burned like newspaper, sizzling away into nothing but smoke, leaving Fox hot and startled, but also unharmed and nearly nude. All that remained was his jockstrap.
Skittish toward Bowletta in light of her mastery over flames, Fox pinned down his ears again and held up his paws in a show of surrender. Bowletta released his shoulders. She pushed him back and snorted.
Fox looked forlornly at the doors. Bowletta snickered and tweaked one of his nipples with her claws, making him grunt. "Did we ruin your cute little Cub Scout uniform?" Sneering and cackling in a deep register, Bowletta hooked her fingers in the jockstrap and gave it a tug. "We're quite sure you'll be hung like a toothpick next to us. Let's see it."
"Bowser was never half as creepy as you are," grumbled Fox, peeling down his jock - and Bowletta's assumption was correct. Fox might have been well-endowed for his size, yet his seven inches was no comparison to the member she sported, the flesh of which was semi-hard at the mere thought of nailing the spacefaring pilot.
"Hmm, well. Bowser's not coming back. He's left his claim to us, dear." She flicked his nose, coaxing him to hiss. Bowletta ignored the noise but clutched him by the back of the head. This grasp was not a painful one, but her fingers were inescapable, a fact which Fox learned following a pointless and brief struggle.
Sniggering lowly, Bowletta ground her hardening penis against the fox's snout. It was almost fully erect. When standing at attention, it was twenty-two inches - a quite respectable length for a Koopa Queen whom stood ten feet tall. "You will pleasure us," she sordidly growled, "with your mouth."
Grimacing in distaste and stricken by the musky scent of Bowletta's groin, which was prevalent in spite of her recent shower, Fox resisted until she groped down on his head. The pressure and pain made Fox gasp, thus popping open his mouth. Bowletta negotiated her first few inches inside, and the pilot reluctantly did the rest.
Crowing in pleasure and exaggerating her moans to tease the fox, Bowletta gushed, "What a fine muzzle! No doubt this is how you keep your pilots happy in that space ship of yours. Clearly your fighting doesn't impress them."
Fox grumbled. He decided against biting Bowletta. Even if he had tried to do so, her hide was too thick even on her penis. He disdainfully thought that it probably would have given her pleasure.
"Don't just leave your grubby paws idle on our thighs - fondle the royal body! Work the balls, squeeze our rear. As if you've never pleased anybody with a penis." But to Bowletta's mild annoyance, Fox was a defiant little thing, putting in only the bare minimum of effort. As a queen whom expected results, Bowletta was disgusted - yet where some queens might have offered positive reinforcement, and others would have executed a disobedient slave, Bowletta took a third option.
Though direct contact was unnecessary, Bowletta kept her grasp on Fox's skull, finding it aided her focus. Making use of powers retained from her previous form, Bowletta infiltrated Fox's personality with her black magic. Disobedience was changed, flipped like a light switch to its antonym. It was not so easily accepted by a complex, thinking being, for just one feeling changing did not alter all others, but the seed grew as she spread her influence further into his consciousness.
To Fox, it felt like cold, creeping fingers inside his head, changing things and overriding what he was. Panic and anger flared and he gnawed on Bowletta's penis, but as he had reasoned before, when he had been capable of reasoning, it only gave her pleasure and made her groan. And then, as with any good brainwashing, Bowletta swept away any and all traces that she had been inside of his head at all, and Fox was left suckling on her cock again - only this time, he started to fondle her fat, dangling balls, then stroked around to the muscular curves of her ass cheeks. Bowletta smiled resplendently.
"Now, you see?" she chuckled. "This isn't so bad. Take it into your throat now, and you'll make us very happy." Knowing suggestions could go a long way, she surreptitiously remarked, "You want to make us happy. You wish to pleasure your queen."
When he thought of it, Fox did want to make her happy. It was incredible how in-tune she was with his desires - why had he ever resisted her? He pressed in closer, and when the koopa's glans ground against his throat, he clumsily pushed forth and penetrated his snug, virgin throat. Immediately he gagged and started to involuntarily weep, but Bowletta let loose a deep and genuine whore moan. Fox wagged his tail, delighted.
Bowletta's own tail swayed back and forth as the pleasure mounted. Vulpine slobber ran down the remainder of her cock and dripped off her balls in thick strands. The fox was hard, but his smaller cock received no attention, not even a derisive remark from the queen. She did, however, clutch the back of his skull in both her meaty hands, and she pushed forward with her strong hips. It caused the pilot considerable distress, but Bowletta forced her great penis deeper and deeper into his throat until her balls rested against his breast. Fox's kept his eyes clenched tightly, but tears still escaped from between the lids. Crying was, however, an involuntary reaction to choking on so much cock - he was in fact happy at that moment.
The queen of two kingdoms chuckled darkly and started to pull back. She held Fox's head still, preventing him from greedily undoing her progress. When her glans popped out from his throat, Fox started to cough and sputter. Bowletta freed her meat from his mouth altogether and allowed him his coughing fit for a moment. As he slowly regained his composure, she sat on the bench - though gingerly, staying mindful of its creaking - and smirked.
As Bowletta expected, Fox moved near her again when he had mostly calmed himself. He knelt and nuzzled where her shaft met her sweaty balls and licked her musky hide. Yet as he snuffled her like so, he felt a pang of discontent. He looked up at the koopa's toothy smirk and felt as though he were being violated in more than just a sexual manner.
"What are you doing to me?" he tightly asked, speaking in a scratchy voice, rendered as such by the reaming his throat had suffered.
Bowletta, however, did not reply to him. She lowly commanded, "Up here. Sit on it, boy."
Although restless, Fox obeyed on a compulsion he could not quite understand. Naturally sure-footed, he found it easy to stand on the bench, his feet at either side of her thighs. Bowletta assisted him slightly by holding her penis steady. Fox hooked his paws over her shoulders and lowered himself, soon to the point that her blunt, wet tip rubbed against the crack of his ass.
When her cock was past his cheeks and against his pucker, Fox shuddered. He surprised himself and even Bowletta when he leaned in and kissed her, his jowls meeting her lower lip. Bowletta chuckled softly and licked with her long koopa tongue across his nose. "The affection is cute, but we want your ass, not your kisses."
"I'm sorry," said Fox, sounding petulant. He still appeared unhappy as he wriggled his ass down. An untrained anal virgin in spite of Bowletta's suspicions to the contrary, Fox did not take her very well. He groaned and shuddered in pain, but descended obediently. With only saliva and precum to lube his dry rectal walls, Fox was soon seen with tears in his eyes again. But his penis throbbed, shooting its pre on her taut belly. He craved Bowletta inside of him even as he questioned why.
Fox stopped a few inches in and started to pull back up. Bowletta sniggered and grasped his hips, then pulled him back down. Fox cried out in pain and his cock squirted pre again, this time in a heavy wad. "You will enjoy this," she sordidly growled, grinning down at her fuckthing. Fox closed his damp eyes against her pink gaze, and again he felt cold fingers violating his brain.
"Ah--! Stop, I know what--, I know you're doing something to me!" Fox plaintively, accusingly cried as he lowered his virgin ass of his own accord. His paws were trembling and they slipped off of Bowletta's shoulders, but the Koopa Queen held him up and gave him leverage to push himself down. Miraculously, Fox did not bleed from the stretch, yet the pain was unbearable. Through it all, his cock pulsed with incredible potency.
The fox's struggling and shouting stopped all at once, and for a moment he was lifeless. And just as abruptly as he had stopped, he suddenly seemed to know only reverence for Bowletta. He leaned close to her and cupped her colossal jugs. He kissed the nipple on one and flicked the other with his tongue. Bowletta laughed quietly, but darkly. One hand held Fox by the hip, and with the other, she condescendingly patted his head.
Again Fox found purchase around her shoulders. He started to bounce, riding his queen with all the strength he could muster. His anus was red and raw, the pain indescribably severe, but he interpreted it only as blissful pleasure. His penis often drooled and sometimes spurted a heavy wad of pre, and this demonstrated just how aroused he was in the koopa's arms.
As the black magic made Fox ever more pliable, he began to utter sweet nothings. "Mmh, you're perfect," he rasped, pecking her on the lip again. "So beautiful - and incredible! I've never met a better fighter..."
"All true, all so very true," Bowletta sighed, boredly lapping up the praise. She clicked her teeth and slid her hands down Fox's body until she gripped his hips, then stood suddenly. Fox gasped and clung to her, throwing arms and legs around her body. The koopa laughed and started to bounce the pilot against her loins. His snug behind milked her in a fine manner. Not even the lovely Princess Peach could compare to the fuckhole Fox McCloud had to offer.
Quite surprisingly, Fox cried out and bit his lip, then erupted with an orgasm. Moved wildly as he was by the koopa's strong hands, his cock wagged up and down and slung semen every which way. It splattered on Fox's breast and face, across Bowletta's stomach and tits, and not even the lockers and tile were safe from his ejaculation. Bowletta herself was most appreciative of the new clenching his rectal muscles dispensed with, for an orgasm made a man clench like nothing else.
So unlike himself, Fox yowled and shrieked in submissive bliss, yet all was not well. He called out to Bowletta, uttering her name in a strained fashion, then he begged her for mercy. This annoyed the queen, but she was too occupied to delve back into his mind for some more conditioning. She did, however, admire the mental tenacity he had to keep resisting her dark magic.
The fox grabbed the lockers and held onto them for his dear life. He managed to brake himself, but Bowletta began moving her hips to compensate. She banged his poor, ruined asshole as though she were its owner, and the pilot's whimpering drove her into a mad frenzy of arousal and predatory hunger. She started to drool as she panted and snarled, her bust heaving with every great breath.
As suddenly as Fox had orgasmed, Bowletta did the same. Her stout legs trembled but did not buckle, and she bottomed out with a thrust inward and a yank on the fox, pulling him loose from the lockers. He hung upside-down, held aloft by her hands on his hips and her cock in his ass, and he received her semen like so. The koopa's load was an incredible gush of cum arriving in numerous ropes which tested the capacity of his bowels. Very soon, he was overfilled, and the excess escaped the reamed seal of his anus, drenching his tail and Bowletta's scrotum. The queen brayed in orgasmic bliss.
"Uhn, oh--, oh, shit," Fox whimpered, quaking. His own cock twitched. He hated this situation and the pain occurred to him with no disguise - but he was on the verge of a second orgasm so quickly that his groin ached.
The doors swung open. Bowletta swung her gaze over lazily, but Fox snapped his upside-down eyes on the newcomers at once. It was Wolf O'Donnell and Falco Lombardi, foe and friend respectively, laughing and being chummy. They noticed the tableau of Bowletta and Fox quickly, however, and both normally smart-mouthed pilots stared in bewilderment.
"Oh, no," Fox shamefully shuddered, and then he had his second orgasm. It shot far across the tile, leaving a messy stripe, but the subsequent shots were much shorter in their range, and they only made a mess of Fox's drooping body.
"Um. Uh." Wolf glanced at Bowletta and scratched his head. "Uh." Similarly, Falco could think of nothing to say.
Bowletta unhanded Fox and braced her hands on her hips. The fox hung from her member, easily suspended by it. "We was just finishing up in here. Our cocksock says hello."
"You guys," Fox gasped, sounding utterly defeated, "guys, run. She's such an amazing fuck... Just run."
Left even more confused, Wolf and Falco did not run. It might have saved them if they had. As for Bowletta, she chuckled wickedly and licked her teeth. Fresh, fine meat stared stupidly at her. She was so glad she had come to the tournament.