Broken Krystal
Preface: A long time ago I found some art by Vixentamer which remains some of my favorite Krystal pr0n to this day. This lead me to the source story, a short piece by Redrover. I occurred to me recently to try writing a similar piece in the same setting, and this is the result of me toying around with the idea in my spare time for a few months. It's still pretty rough, but I hope you guys like it. Oh, and I actually can't CClicense this, since I don't own the characters. But as much of it as is mine, feel free to copy: just say you got it from me. Now then:
Broken Krystal
By Raff
From the roaring flames in the ship's cabin a dark figure emerged. Tall and angular, his long green tail swayed behind him as he stepped out onto the deck. His form prickled with cold menace, rough armor resting on hard scales, head topped with a cruel helmet, its twin horns glimmering in the firelight. His eyes glowed green as he caught sight of the newcomer.
"I am General Scales" The lizard growled, striding forward. "And this is my planet. Who are you?"
The object of his words, a short fox clad only in ornate cloth, hung from her waist and wrapped tight against her chest, stood her ground as the General approached. It was him. He certainly matched the descriptions. She replied in a calm, clear voice.
"I'm not here to fight you. I received a distress call."
The lizard's face curled into a cruel smile, then a laugh. "Distress?" He gestured to the smoking ship around him. "This whole planet is in distress." He turned, heading back toward the flames. No good. She wanted his attention.
"The Cloudrunners told me about you." The fox called after him, her sky-blue fur dull in the dim light. "About the evil General Scales."
The lizard turned back to face her, the hints of another horrible smile on his sharp snout. "Evil..." he rolled the word past his teeth slowly, a hint of amusement glowing in those eyes. "I rule through fear. Fear keeps the tribes of this planet in line. And sometimes-" He held up his left hand, and the fox saw that in place of it there was only a base with two long, nasty hooked blades. "I need to refresh that fear."
The lizard had turned away from his guest as he spoke, gazing out into the storm raging around the ship. An opening. This had been a response to a distress call; she had no idea she'd find him here. But now that he was, back turned... As the last words left his mouth the fox lunged, just in time to be caught by the lizard's good hand, strong fingers closing around her neck. Shit.
"You dare challenge me?" The General growled, hoisting the struggling vixen into the air to look him in the eye. He strode for the edge of the deck, dragging her behind. She kicked and squirmed as she felt herself hauled across the deck, but it was the most the vixen could do to keep his grip from strangling her. Reaching the railing, he pulled her up again, high above his head, dangling out over the edge, over open space. His eyes caught hers, fiery green now with dark delight.
"Fool."
The grip went slack, and before the fox could grab at anything she felt herself slip away, her small blue frame vanishing into the endless clouds beneath the ship.
Only to re-emerge a second later atop a large, majestic pterodactyl. "Better luck next time General." The vixen taunted, through a grin. She had made a stupid mistake, but luckily so had he. There would be other chances to rid the planet of his terror. Reaching down she whispered to Kite, the cloudrunner she was riding. Time to leave.
But just as he started to turn, to wheel from the burning ship, there was a loud metallic click from the General's direction. The fox turned back in time to see the curved blades of Scale's hand shoot out over Kite's neck, a long, thin chain snaking out behind it. The "hand" sparkled past her as it quickly swung round her mount's vulnerable neck one, two, three times, catching on itself the third time. When it did, the general grasped the chain with his good hand, slowly reeling them in. The vixen clung desperately to Kite as he struggled against the lizard's pull, bucking and flapping furiously, but it was a losing battle. A few good yanks and the creature was close enough for Scales to grab and hurl at the deck. A crowd of the General's underlings, drawn by sounds of the struggle rushed to pin him, catching the vixen as she tumbled off and forcing her into a kneeling position, hands behind her back.
"Back so soon girl?" The general growled, running his claws through her hair. "You should have died when you had the chance." He motioned to his crew, who held up the cloudrunner, wings spread. Striding up to the struggling creature, Scales grasped its right wing in his hands. There was a sudden, slight twisting thrust of his grip and the bone gave with a sickening crack, the poor runner
squealing in pain.
"Kite!" The vixen yelled, straining against the lizard crewmen holding her. Her own eyes blazing now as she turned to the general "Stop it!" The general glanced back at her with cruel amusement, shifting his grip to the other wing. "That insolence of yours is why your friend has a broken wing. What's your name fox?"
"Krystal. I-"
"And why were you working with the cloudrunners to overthrow me?" The blue fox tried to say something, but it caught on her tongue as she tried to find the right words. Too long.
Twist. Crack. Squeal.
"Two broken wings."
"Please, stop!" Krystal pleaded again, her voice quivering a little this time. The sight of Kite's anguished face was starting to get to her, and the vixen wracked her brain for anything that could get him out of this mess. "They had nothing to do with it. It was my idea!"
"Don't lie to me girl. I know the runners have long hated me."
Her eyes flared again, his words bringing a response before she could think. "Who wouldn't, the way you terrorize this planet? I've been here a week and already heard enough stories of your sick cruelty to last me a lifeti-" She blinked as the last words came, realizing the foolishness of the comment. Two mistakes now. What was this one going to cost?
But the lizard grinned, as if receiving a compliment. His rough paws closed around the neck of the cloudrunner as the creature struggled in fear, Krystal's eyes going wide as she realized what he was about to do. "You're about to have one more."
"No!"
The paws twisted. Kite's eyes bulged. His frame jerked in Scale's grip, then went limp. The crewmen let him drop, and the cloudrunner's body sprawled lifelessly on the deck. The general stepped forward, resting a heel on the creature's limp head, then turned to a few of his crewmen "Drop him in their city, with our demands around his neck. Their tribute is doubled for this nonsense." The lizards nodded and began to drag the body away. Krystal watched Kite go, first in blank shock, then with tears welling in her eyes as a mix of sadness and rage grew on her face. Scales stepped forward, blocking her view. "Sometimes people forget why they're afraid." Scales kicked the runner as he slipped away. "He'll make a good reminder."
"YOU SICK MONSTER!" the vixen screamed, almost escaping the crewmen holding her down. "SEWERSCUM! MURDERING COWARDLY PIECE OF SHIT!"
Scales just grinned. Reaching down, he grasped Krystal by the hair and yanked her out of the other lizard's grasps, hauling the vixen to the tiller and tossing her toward it. Before she could react the crewmen had lashed her wrists tight to the wheel and locked it in place. Scales circled in front of her, holding the long, ornate staff she had dropped on the deck. Her rage hit a new high as she saw it.
"Give me that and face me straight on. We'll see who's fit to rule. Or are you afraid?" It was babbling, but she was less than composed by now.
The general laughed at this, a loud, grinding sound. He leaned in, running his hooked hand through her hair. The good paw rose behind him, wrapped around one end of the staff, the other held high in the air. "And why should I fight by your rules fox?" With incredible speed and power he brought the other end of the staff down in a curve, its heavy, ornate bulb smashing up into Krystal's belly.
"OOMMF!" The world pulsed in an explosion of pain and disorientation. The vixen's eyes went wide, agony and weakness shooting through her as every inch of air was forced out. She shuddered and coughed, struggling to regain the breath she had been robbed of. The staff was a powerful weapon: in wielding it Krystal had cracked more then one enemy's skull open. But the force she had just felt as it plowed into her was easily two or three times any blow she'd ever managed to land. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and tried to scream as she saw the staff rise again, but there was no air to form her word of protest, and it fell silently from her lips.
No!
"UUUGNH!" The weighted end hit again, harder this time. The vixen had actually felt her feet leave the ground for an instant. Stars danced through her vision, and for a moment she felt equally desperate for air and for surrender to the nausea that was spreading through her.
But there was time for neither. The staff rose and fell again, but this time straight down, crushing into the small of her back. Krystal gave a sharp bark of pain, the air she had wanted so dearly rushing into her lungs now in fiery agony.
The general stopped a moment, watching her twitch and gasp, struggling to breath. Only her midsection had been hit, but she could feel the pain radiating out until it felt like every inch of her had been battered. Then the blows started again, hard and quick, alternating between her belly and back. Krystal could think of a million curses she wanted to hurl, but nothing would pass her lips now save yelps of surprise and pain. Gradually her view started to dim, the lack of oxygen finally taking its toll as the general worked her over, the hard, heavy staff-head slamming into her again and again like a cudgel on the end of a sling.. Her expression began to grow vague, her reactions to the blows less and less pronounced, until at last the blue vixen reached her limit. The staff came down on her back and she gave a distant whimper, crumpling to the deck to hang limply from her wrists, head drooping over her chest.
The general gave a pleased snarl at this, grabbing her by the hair and knocking her head into the wheel. The pain was quick and sharp, but the most she could manage was a muffled gasp. At a signal from Scales the crewmen cut the ropes holding her wrists and the vixen fell to the floor, the cloud of pain she was in preventing movement better than any ropes could.
Laughing, Scales held up the staff and tossed it toward her, the shimmering handle stopping a few yard from where she lay.
"You wanted to fight? Take it then."
The vixen's eyes opened weakly. There it was. Just a short distance away. Desperately struggling against her aching body, Krystal somehow managed to rise. Not fully, there was no way that was happening, but on hands and knees. And slowly she started to crawl toward the staff. Any rational assessment would have told her the effort was pointless, that this was just more bait for Scales to mock her with. But the pain was so bad by now that she could only think in hot, fevered pulses. She needed to get out of here. She needed to get the staff. That was the most her brain could manage. Over and over. Get the staff. It was so close now, just four more steps! Three. Two. O- And her knees and arms gave out, the staff just out of reach of her paw. She struggled to rise again, but it was too late. Whatever reserve she had tapped into was gone now, and her body refused to move another inch.
"Poor foxy." The general laughed, grabbing her by the neck again and dragging her to a nearby crate which he tossed her onto, the vixen sprawling on her back. She could feel him part her legs as he leaned down over her, the heat and stink of his breath curling over her face. "You lose bitch." He growled.
There was a rustling near the lizard's waist, then a low thud as the lower section of his armor hit the floor. Something hot and thick pressed against her thigh. The vixen's eyes went wide as she realized what Scales intended, desperately trying to curl out of reach. But her muscles were still spent, and to her horror Krystal found the most she could do was flop helplessly under the lizard.
Then she felt that hooked hand tug at the edge of her loin-cloth. With a quiet snap the metal was through the fabric. A yank and it was gone, leaving her utterly bare beneath the waist, nothing between her and the murderous general. The thickness pressed against her sex and she shivered, then cringed, silently cursing her canine nose.
The general noticed her reaction, grinning cruelly. "Smell that girl?"
She could. Gods she could. It was awful, rank, filthy, rotting. Vile. And getting stiffer. He shifted back, pressing the tip against her slit and she could feel stiff fleshy barbs against her. She gave a whimper, searching desperately for some way to resist, but the most she could manage was a weak, pitiful "No..."
The general only gave a mocking snarl, then thrust forward. In. Hard. All the way.
And suddenly Krystal discovered she did have air and energy left as a shrill, pitiable squeal of agony ripped through her throat. Her whole body tensed, claws digging lines down the crate. For a split second there was no movement. Then he pulled back and thrust into her again. And she squealed again.
Thrust. Squeal.
Thrust. Squeal.
There were no more thoughts of resistance, or disgust. There was no room for any thoughts now, save the thought of how painful this was. It felt as if someone was stabbing a white-hot knife into the center of her being. Again and again and again.
The lizard was savoring every second, eyes alight with sadistic pleasure as Krystal writhed under him, his claws digging into her shoulders, shifting his angle to keep the pain fresh and sharp.
The vixen felt her thoughts start to unravel against the pain. All the good parts, the dignity, the spirit, the rational had retreated to some far corner of her mind, trying to ride out the storm as the waves of agony battered against them. Again and again and again.
Tears ran down the vixen's cheeks. Not from sadness, or fear, but simply in reaction to the fire that shot through her every time the lizard's horrible cock thrust forward, into her. Her mouth hung open, flecks of drool scattering into the air as Scale's assault knocked her back and forth against the crate.
It was hard to tell how long this went on. Minutes that felt much longer. But at last, through some small mercy, the pain began to shrink back, from hot torment to slow, aching agony. And as she jolted back and forth against the wood in time with his thrusts, Krystal heard her voice shift from screams to low, miserable groans and realized dimly that it actually felt like a relief. Her insides ached, like sore, bruised muscle; every time the general's spiny shaft spread them it felt like someone was forcing her to use that muscle. But she could breath now. .
She could think too, but only barely, and her body still refused to respond. In her battered mind, two ideas floated to the surface.
Too much!
Escape!
But there was no way out. She could barely move, her staff was far away on the deck. She could smell the crowd of sharpclaw that were gathering around her, and the general's massive weight pressed down from above. A trickle of icy fear ran through the vixen as she realized how completely helpless she was. No cleverness, no physical prowess could get her out of her. Even if the gods granted her the most ingenious ploy ever, she couldn't speak the words.
And as the realization hit her, her body went limp under Scales, giving in before she could stop it. The general gave a mocking laugh, spitting in her face and rubbing it into her cheek.
"Now you're getting the idea slut. Just lay back and let us enjoy you."
The sharpclaw made good on his word, pressing forward, his wide length slipping in and out of the vixen at a leisurely pace. Humiliated fury reared inside Krystal at the slimy liquid rubbed into her face, but even rage wasn't enough: not an inch of her body would move to wipe it away. Not so much as a finger. Which drove the anger and humiliation deeper, the vixen's cheeks flushing hot in frustration.
Scales continued to enjoy the compliant fox for a while, then grabbing her by the neck again. There was a mid-air twist and Krystal found herself thrust back down onto the crate, hard, giving a grunt of painful protest as her chest hit the wood, her arms falling limply beside her. One of the crewmen stepped forward, his length already out, and pressed the hot, fetid flesh against her nose. Krystal cringed, coughing at the strength of the stench. His paw closed around her hair, yanking her head up. The moment her mouth opened to yelp in pain it was filled with the sharpclaw's length, and suddenly she could vividly taste what she had been smelling a second ago.
The vixen's mind reeled, fighting a swell of disgust and nausea. Gods, she could smell and taste it. Layers of sweat, salty, grinding against her tongue. And along the length bacteria had gone to work, creating pockets of bitter filth. The sharpclaw gave a few gentle thrusts into her mouth, then his paws dug into the back of her head and Krystal gagged as the wide, spiny tip was stuffed down her throat. She gave a groan of protest, and the sharpclaw pulled her head back, letting the vixen cough a moment, then forced her back down. This kept up for a while, his paws tight against the back of her head, the pauses getting shorter and the trusts faster and harder until the lizard was throat-fucking her.
He started to linger on the end of the thrust, holding her down around his length longer and longer, and Krystal realized he was savoring it, enjoying the sounds she was making as she struggled to breath around the thick, filthy invader.
Scales claws dug into her rear, holding her, and she moaned into the cock as she felt Scales enter her from behind again, her eyes going wide as the sound registered. Moaned? She couldn't possibly be enjoying this: it was the most vile, horrific thing she had ever experienced. Then why am I so wet? She thought in horror, feeling the slick pool of her own juices on the crate as the two sharpclaw jerked her back and forth.
The thought was quickly interrupted as Scales thrust into her again, forcing another moan from her. This time the sound was quickly silenced as the sharpclaw at her nose pressed his waist into her face, the spiny head of his length grinding into the back of her throat, cutting off her air. He held it there this time, not pulling back for another thrust. Helpless to stop him, Krystal gagged and whimpered around the reptilian member as she felt her oxygen quickly fading. Desperately she glanced upward, sending a pleading glance to her tormentor, but the sharpclaw only smirked back mockingly at the pathetic expression on the fox's face, grinding his tip in deeper. Krystal gave a whimper of despair, her world going dim as her smothered brain started to shut down.
Just as everything was about to go black, she felt him pull back and gave a trembling gasp, precious air rushing into her lungs. The relief was short lived. A moment later Scale's claws dug into her waist. Suddenly the general's waist slammed forward and Krystal yelped as several inches of hard, thick lizard cock forced its way into her. And no sooner was her mouth open then the other sharpclaw filled it again. Both started to thrust, hard and fast, pressing the gagging, groaning vixen down against the crate. Slowly the thrusts came harder, the claws dug deeper, the two lizards grunts and growls more enthusiastic. Struggling to stay conscious, Krystal was too light-headed to realize what was happening until came.
Scales was the first to go. With a snarl he gave one last thrust, deep into her, and Krystal felt a burst of heat inside her. Then again, and again, melting into something thick and slimy. She blinked, then went wide-eyed as realization hit. He just...just...oh gods...
So distracted was the vixen that she didn't notice the second cock she had been forced to entertain was gone at first. By the time she did the sharpclaw was nearly ready to follow Scale's example, and the moment she looked up he came with a dull groan.
The cum hit in hot, thick strands. First against her hair, then her cheek, then splashing against her nose. In her hair it stuck, but against her cheek and nose it ran, slowly spreading down to hang and drip off her face. She stared out into space a moment, dazed, feeling the heat run down her, then let her head go limp, shivering.
She felt Scales pull out. Which made her feel strangely empty. But she didn't have much time to dwell on this before his paws were on her shoulders, grabbing her and tossing her to sprawl across the deck. She lay where she fell, legs splayed, arms at her sides, feeling the heat of his "gift" to her running down her thigh.
He strode over to her, pressing his foot against her head and grinding it into the deck. She groaned, tail twitching.
"Enjoying it yet bitch?"
She shuddered, coughed. And then, after a moment-"Go to hell." She gasped weakly, glaring up at him, the fire in her eyes battered and weakened, but still not extinguished.
The lizard laughed. "Good." He looked up, giving a quick gesture to the surrounding crew. "She's all yours for the night. Keep her alive and with roughly the same number of bones. The rest is up to you."
With that he strode away for the ship's cabin. An evil, pleased rumbling spread through the mass of sharpclaws as they closed around the crumpled blue vixen. Krystal's eyes darted back and forth across the reptiles, her last bit of energy burning in panic as she realized how many there were.
"No... No, NOOOO-" The lizards closed around her and the vixen's cry died away as her thrashing tail disappeared into a writhing sea of cold green scales and hungry red eyes.
The night was dark.
Somewhere nearby a torch was burning, and by its flickering light the tattered blue form of a fox could be seen, hands and knees on the deck. Her fur was matted and unkempt, interrupted in places with jagged claw marks that sliced across her arms, thighs and back. Dirty splotches of white and yellow clung to her, running down her ragged form, hanging from it. The fur around her aching sex and the tighter hole above it was covered in a perverse coating of the hot, rank whiteness, an explosion of filth that reached out over her rear and ran down her thighs.
The vixen shivered and coughed; a painful, weak, heaving sound. A nasty white slurry escaped her throat as she did, rushing over her tongue to fall to the ground in thick, filthy strands. Her limbs trembled violently under her, barely able to keep the slim vixen up. Her shivering eyes scanned the darkness, the fire that had burned in them replaced now with an odd dullness.
********
After the crew had rushed her, everything had blurred a bit for Krystal. She had felt the hands first. Everywhere. Wrists, shoulders, stomach, ankles, tail. Rough, cold hands. Pulling, twisting, forcing her into humiliating and unnatural positions. And then she had felt horrible heat of the crews cocks. She couldn't remember now which had been first; the one that ground against the slick, tender lips of her pussy before callously forcing its way into deep into her, so thick that she couldn't suppress a groan as she felt herself suddenly spread, or the one that found her muzzle, rank as before, thick with the smell of unwashed, unkempt male, forcing her tongue back as it jammed its way into her muzzle. Or that horrible one that had brushed aside her tail and sunk deep into her rear, making the vixen squeal again and twist frantically against the hundred arms holding her down in a desperate, hopeless attempt to get away. They had all found her fast. The cruel cloud of cold scales had closed over her, and within moments hot lizard flesh was buried in her squirming, protesting form up to the hilt.
She had fought at first. Some sort of second wind. Clawed at the deck, cursed into the hot flesh forced into her mouth, struggling and screaming, trying to catch one of them on her claws at every given opportunity. So they had beat her as they held her down. Spat on her. Yanked her head back and forth by the hair, muzzling her defiant words with their waiting members and forcing the vile length deep into her throat, laughing as she thrashed, struggling for air. They had put her up on her hands and knees as she was now and forced her head back, digging their claws down her back as they slammed into her ass again and again and laughed. And laughed.
Eventually she had realized the struggle was only adding to their perverse delight, but by then it didn't matter. Her second wind was gone, and the vixen went limp under the lizards, accepting their obscene abuse.
They had laughed then too. Mocking her for her weakness, for how slick her pussy was, for how pathetic she looked. Reminding her of what they had already done, and promising to keep doing it, over and over.
Even then, she had held up for a while. For hours of this treatment the vixen had clasped that last bit of sanity close, bitterly clinging to it, yielding her body but not her mind.
But even as she did, something had been building inside her surrendered body. Deep, pulsing, primal pleasure. She couldn't understand it, couldn't control it. Every part of her ached, pulsed with pain. But somehow, underneath the agony, pleasure was building. And the longer they held her down, the more times thick, hot lizard seed rushed into her, splashed onto her, the more times they mocked her and beat her and spit, the worse it got.
She buried it as deep in her mind as it would go, trying with all her being to avoid admitting that the slick heat running down her legs wasn't just her attackers seed anymore. Doing everything she could to ignore the fact that every time they thrust into her aching sex, every time she felt the bumps of their cock heads grind against the roof of her mouth, or even their fists and claws coming down for more punishment, her body pulsed in delight. She refused to admit it, spent every ounce of her energy denying it, because she couldn't understand it. Because it scared her. Because this betrayal of her own body was more deeply humiliating that anything they had done to her. She would have traded a thousand beatings just to make this pleasure, this betrayal go away.
But it wouldn't. The pleasure just kept building, all the thicker and hotter for being confined.
Worse. And worse. And worse...
And then it happened. By accident, one of the sharp claw's tails brushed between her legs. Just above her sex. The slightest touch.
Krystal twitched involuntarily. Deep inside herself, she felt something give. An instant later she pitched forward, howling in explosive orgasm as the pleasure she had kept pent up burst out, running through her from nose to tail with nerve-frying heat.
And as she trembled and squealed, the stored energy of lust denied hitting her over and over, she felt something else give. The climax tore through the vixen's brain, like a club smashing through a sea of icicles, and Krystal seized as her mind clattered down around her, hitting the floor in a million sparkling fragments.
For a moment her mind was utterly blank. Her body went limp between the two lizards. And then something lit inside her, like a spark catching tinder. The pleasure was back, not dampened by the climax but strengthened by it. Now, without a single thing to stand in its way it ran through her in an instant, and the vixen moaned as the primal lust finally claimed her, grasping the very deepest part of her by the throat and squeezing. Krystal's eyes rolled back in her head, a choked grunt escaping her lips. Her eyes sank shut, and when they opened again her mouth unfolded into a limp, broken smile. Her brain pulsed with only one thought now. Mate. Mate. Mate. She felt the thick cock sunk deep into her sex, the other resting against her tongue, and quivered in delight.
The next instant her head was working franticly, tongue lapping at the lizard flesh like it was the most delicious thing in the world, head a blur as she devoured the cock again and again. Her hips moved faster too,, slamming back into the crewmen grasping her waist, tail swishing spasmicly, begging him to go deeper, harder. To mate her. To breed her. To use her. Over and over and over. Her eyes flickered up to the rest of the crew and Krystal shuddered again, moaning hard around the cock in her muzzle as the implications hit her. Every one of them. She could have every one of them, again and again until she couldn't move. Her eyes almost rolled again at the thought. It was all too blissfully wonderful to be true. All the cock she could take and then some. She was such a lucky little whore.
The crew soon realized her transformation, quickly forming new insults to hurl. She drunk them in, like the slick layer of semen coating her tongue, never gone no matter how much she swallowed. All of what they said was true, and what wasn't she would gladly make true as long as they kept giving her this.
After a while the lizard behind her reached down, pulling her off the cock she was sucking and yanking her head back and up, to face the crow waiting to use her. "Bark for us bitch!" He hissed.
As the words hit her ears an eager, lopsided smiled spread over the vixen's face, her expression blissfully limp. Without missing a beat, her lips parted, the words that followed
dripping with obscene joy.
"Woof. Woof. Woof!"
She kept barking as he started thrusting again, pleadingly, urging him on. The harder he took her the more distorted the word became, until at last the former warrior was squealing, grunting, whimpering into the deck with sounds that were almost genuinely those of an animal.
Harder and harder, the male so deep in her, so hot-and then he came. The vixen cried out, claws digging into the deck, back arched. A moment later she was limp on the deck, softly twitching. She looked up to see a sea of scaled bodies closed in around her again, but this time she only smiled, a filthy grin as the males came closer. And before she vanished from view, just one whispered word.
"Woof."
*******
The night was dark. The vixen shivered and coughed, filthy, exhausted, eyes dull. And then another fire flared up in her gaze, a dark heat of unthinking desire. The lopsided smile washed over her face again.
Slowly she lowered her head, letting her eyes close. Her tongue went to the deck, finding the filth splattered there and bringing it up to her mouth in long, purposeful licks. Just like they had taught her. One...two...three..
On the tenth, the vixen's head turned to gaze into the darkness behind her. Her hands reached back, gently parting her ravaged sex, and the fox uttered one pleading, wavering word.
"Please."
From the darkness the scale-covered figures of the crew emerged again, laughing, hurling more insults, their dark intentions clear. She trembled again. Blissful anticipation. Just before they closed around her, that lopsided smile washed over Krystal's face. A smile of absolute contentment.