FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. It hadn't always been that way, but there was nothing that time and corruption couldn't tear apart. Many decades before he'd ever been born the space station now known as Belter Sol had been a thriving mining operation that provided jobs to countless thousands. The station had been built near the asteroid belt of the Lylat System so that it could easily ferry work crews to and from the large asteroids and their rich ore deposits.

The industry here thrived to such a degree that the mining company could afford not only to provide for their workers, but for their entire family. The population grew to such a degree that the station was legally classified as a colony by Cornerian officials. Few today are alive to describe what it was like on Belter Sol during its golden age of prosperity, and there is little surviving digital data to prove if any of those stories were even real to begin with.

The downfall of Belter Sol was the diminishing returns of the mines. Every year resulted in a smaller yield of ore, and as it became more difficult to fulfill orders for clients, those clients began to turn to other sources. Revenue dropped every year, profit margins shrunk. All the benefits to living and working on Belter Sol began to dry up and those who had the means fled in ones and twos until all that was left were those that were too poor to escape, and those that were too prideful to leave. So stayed simply because they had nowhere else to go, no home to return to.

What came next was violence. Crime had already taken root in the station, Belter Sol being used as a convenient shelter for those on the run, and those looking to smuggle goods across the System. By the time the Lylat War erupted, Belter Sol had become a hub for more clandestine matters. War materials, both stolen and salvaged flowed like blood through the veins of the station with neither the Cornerians nor the Empire being willing to do anything about it. Both sides profited from the scum taking root in Belter Sol.

But when the War ended, the violence on Belter Sol did not. An Imperial fugitive by the name of Borace Swine carved out a niche for himself and his minions on the station, and from there he grew his power. A tyrant enjoying the power vacuum from the demise of his former master, Borace crowned himself dictator of Belter Sol and unleashed waves of brutality across the station. Criminal and civilian alike were forced to submit or be purged.

The dictator's word was law, and dripping from his lips were the bloodstained promises of prosperity to those that complied. The long since tapped mines were reopened, and the people were forced to work to claw out every last bit of ore that was deemed too costly to bother digging out by Belter Sol's old masters. Sense and reason were abandoned in favor of the whip and chain.

During the upheaval of the Cornerian Civil War the powers in control of Belter Sol changed hands yet again. A bloody violence roared through the station, retribution for the years of abuse the people trapped there had endured. The leadership of Borace Swine was purged in a revolt so bloody that the bodies of the dead were floating so thick around Belter Sol being, so numerous, that it was not possible to approach the station without the sound of corpses hitting your hull.

Now, a pair of brothers were in charge of Belter Sol, and things did not change for the better. The time of slavery had ended, but the era of crime began anew. Belter Sol's new masters, the Loka Brothers, believed in absolute freedom. They were men who grew up beneath the boot of starvation and oppression, and now they sought to usher in an era of liberty unbridled. A freedom so thick you would choke on it. So long as you paid the Lokas their due, you were permitted to do as you pleased without fear of law or censor. Smugglers, criminals, fugitives, and idiots all flocked to the new Belter Sol in hopes of chasing riches beyond legal or mortal reckoning.

This was a place that was dangerous, filthy, and profitable. So long as you didn't upset its masters you had the chance to strike a jackpot, or a bullet in the back of the head. Belter Sol was whatever you made of it, for better or worse. It was the freedom to live, and the freedom to die.

And of course, that's why Wolf O'Donnel was here. He wanted the freedom to score.

It wasn't often that he visited the station, as his regular clients were based out of other seedy hellholes, but the occasional trip to the station was always worth his while. The rest of his team were doing whatever they felt like doing, but Wolf had a particular goal in mind. For any good mercenary worth his salt, you knew where to go to find new lackies and cannon fodder.

Wolf wasn't here to find work for him and his crew, no. He was looking for you young and dumb idiots he could hire for cheap and use as thugs for an upcoming mission. He needed a good ten or so men that could live off peanuts to crack skulls together for about 72 hours' worth of work. Wolf had been given a very lucrative job and they'd be paid handsomely for it! It'd been a long time since he'd pulled off a good old-fashioned heist, and this was to be a heist of the highest order. It wasn't often you found the opportunity to steal from the Cornerian Defense Force!

All he needed was some thugs, and then he could round up his crew and begin to head towards the rendezvous point. He had to be quick though. His client was skittish, and Wolf had been told that if he didn't arrive at the coordinates at a specified time then the client would bolt and give the job to someone else. The clock was ticking, but he had about 12 hours left until the time. Plenty of time.

Stepping into the Carbon Canteen he was met with the stench of cigarettes and liquor. The fog of smoke hung in the air, the ceiling lights glowing through the haze while a single gaudy chandelier rotated a kaleidoscope of colors onto everything in the room. A hideous place that offended the five senses.

This was also the best place to go if you wanted work, so Wolf was already scanning the tables in search of the tell-tale signs of wannabe mercs looking for a payout. He didn't need anyone intelligent, just men that looked like they could hold their own in a brawl, and there were plenty of men here that fit that bill. He just needed to find a place to sit and order a drink.

As Wolf scanned his options, he was drawn to the backside of something he didn't often see in a place like Belter Sol. Well, that wasn't true, but the Carbon Canteen wasn't a brothel, so it was weird seeing a vixen sitting at the bar with her back to the door. He didn't have time for women today, but the sight of a bright blue Cerinian always left him stopping in his tracks to look a little closer.

It wasn't because he had a preference for vixens, and he had no particular affinity for the color blue. But that woman McCloud was with was a pretty blue vixen just like this one. He approached her from behind, moving and weaving through the tables full of the drunk and half-drunk until he was only a few paces behind her. He had his doubts it was her, since from what he could recall, the woman McCloud was with had dark blue hair. This woman had full head of purple like she dumped a bottle of dye on herself.

There were two men sitting to her either side, but they were nobodies, and one of them was actually getting up to leave his seat. He approached, stepping past the pig as he staggered away with such a look of confusion on his face that Wolf followed him with his eyes until he'd long past him by. Must have been awfully drunk and the bartender cut him off.

Turning back to the bar, Wolf slid into the now conveniently vacant seat and gestured to the bartender that he wanted a whisky. The woman next to him turned to look at the newcomer taking a fresh seat. He looked back, studying her face. It'd been a while since he'd seen McCloud's woman, but even though he'd never seen her in person he knew that this was her alright, just in a really cheap disguise.

"There somethin' on mah face? Should I be checkin' mah teeth?" She replied with the most exaggerated Cerinian drawl he'd ever heard roll off a woman's tongue.

Wolf's first response was to smirk. That voice of hers sold it, it was her. No amount of ham-fisted accent play could hide that woman's voice from him! He'd heard that mocking tone of hers over comms too many times to be fooled!

"No, just thought I recognized a familiar face, and I was right." He told her, wondering why she of all people was here by herself. Or maybe she wasn't alone. He scanned the rest of the room carefully but saw no one else from the Star Fox Team. Maybe she was wearing a wire?

"Oh? I don't think we've met." She replied with a smirk of her own, still keeping up with her fake accent that was laid on too thick to be real. He'd never been to Cerinia, but he knew the only Cerinians that talked like this were the lower classes that created her stereotyped speech in the first place.

"Not in person, no, but don't play coy with that disguise, honey." He told her.

Her eyebrows lifted while her head tilted with a look of curiosity. Did she seriously think her disguise would have worked on someone that actually knew who she was? He knew a few things about McCloud's woman. Namely, that she was the package deal of looks and brains balled into one fine little vixen body. She couldn't be so stupid that she would think the Great Wolf O'Donnell couldn't see past the purple hair?

Even her outfit was a terrible decoy! Lots of brown leather fit together to make a pair of tight brown leggings and a vest that pushed her tits up and together. Her flight jacket looked like a military surplus from Corneria. At a distance you might have mistaken her for a hotshot pilot bitch, but up close the leggings and vest looked brand new like she'd only worn them once. She looked fake from top to bottom, all dolled up to fool somebody. Maybe if they were drunk the disguise would have worked, which explains her being in the Carbon Canteen.

"Disguise? I think chew've got yourself ah problem, Mistah." She replied with something so comically laughable he barked out a loud cackle. She instantly replied with a deep frown while people in the bar all swiveled their heads in their direction.

"Now you're laying that on me a little too thick, don't you think, Krystal?" He asked her, lowering his voice down so that by the time he spoke her true name only the two of them could hear it.

Soon as she heard her own name she furled her brown for a moment, then she breathed out a deep sigh. She shut her eyes and lifted a hand to one of her temples like she was suddenly suffering from a burst of frustration. The bartender arrived, dropping a glass of whisky in front of him. In his moment of victory, he took up the glass and drank. Tasted like shit. The bite of it wasn't as strong as he was expecting, probably watered down since he didn't tell the bartender exactly what kind of whisky to bring.

"Yous one o' them, right? Been banged up by tha Star Fox Team so much you be seein' 'em e'erywhere you go?" She continued to talk in her deep accent. Why was she maintaining this ugly farse?

"Why're you trying to play act, honey? Here on a job?" He pressed, dropping his elbow to the table while he shook his glass in hand to make the liquor swirl.

"No act, but yous aint tha first bloke to come chargin' at me like I'm someone else's mistress." She told him.

He looked her up and down again, drinking her in as he took another swill from his drink.

She sighed and slipped her hand into the inside of her jacket pocket and pulled out a thin wallet dangling from a chain. She popped it open, and then offered it to him. He glanced at it first, looking into her wallet to see what passed as a Cornerian ID. He audibly scoffed, as if IDs can't be forged, especially here on Belter. He snatched the wallet from her anyway and looked closer.

The girl looked younger in the photo but had a head full of blonde hair instead of the fake purple. The ID behind the plastic window looked legitimate enough, but the good ones always did. He glanced up at her and back down again like he was an officer of the law, then put his thumb over her ID through the little hole in the window and forced her ID up and out of its sleeve.

He looked back down to yank the ID from the wallet, and found that there had been a physical photograph tucked in behind her ID. His eyes widened, not having been prepared to catch a woman with some striptease hiding in her wallet. The photo wasn't of Fox McCloud, but of some half naked dog in a Cornerian Defense Force uniform. Brown all over, white muzzle with some floppy ears. Nothing stood out about him, and he wasn't aware of anyone with this description being on Fox McCloud's payroll.

"If yous want ah copy o' me Ex, just give me your net address." The woman teased him. Now he was left very uncertain about who this woman really was.

The ID looked legitimate. He flipped it over in his hand, read the back, flipped it back over to double check the front.

'Veranda Deets' was her alleged name, but the woman in the photo didn't look like who he imagined a younger version of McCloud's woman would look like. Can be faked easily enough. He slipped the ID back into the sleeve, sliding it down to cover up the photo of the woman's 'Ex' and his erection.

"My apologies, Veranda. You are nearly the spitting image of another woman I know." He confessed, but not willing to completely dismiss his instincts. His gut was still telling him that this woman was Krystal McCloud, but if that was true then why was there a photo of some random dog in her wallet? You don't come up with a terrible disguise like this and then follow it up by hiding intimate selfies in your wallet like the disguise was a real person.

"Must be ah charmer if I'm remindin' you ah her." She said with a smile. The more he listened to her talk the less fake her accent sounded to his ears. Maybe he'd been too harsh on her before. It was an accent he rarely heard outside of a video program.

"I don't know if I would call her charming. She's crossed my paths a few times, her, and her husband. We have a history." He replied, talking as if this woman was in fact not Krystal. If this was all a disguise, then maybe she'd slip up and break character.

He tossed back the last of his whisky and gestured for the bartender to come over. Once Wolf was being waited on he ordered some proper whisky, and then asked the lady next to him if she wanted another drink on him. She looked at the bartender and lifted her glass and shook it. The bartender nodded and left.

"Ah, so yous tha Ex of her? Salty over losin' ya girl to tha famous Star Fox?" She grinned back at him.

He laughed.

"No, not an ex. It's more that our business tends to conflict with one another, and we're like a thorn in each other's side." He told her. Of course, if she were really who he thought she was, then she'd know this already. His doubt was growing, but that lingering gut instinct was there, strong as ever.

"So, Veranda, tell me why you're here in a seedy, disgusting place like this?" He asked, changing the subject away from him and back to her. She smiled.

"Yous the look o' ah professional sort ah man, Mistah, so hows about yah tell me your name since yous already snooped mine." She replied and extended her hand to ask for her wallet. He extended it and handed it off, and watched as she tucked it back into the inside pocket of her jacket. Her vest was doing a very good job of showing off how much forward asset she had hanging off her chest.

"Wolf O'Donnell, ma'am." He replied.

"Aaah, so yous tha other famous Star in tha sky then? Not as much on tha right side o' tha law, though." She told him with a smile.

The bartender came back around with a fresh glass for the both of them. He took a look at his drink, then took a sip. This was much better stuff, as well as revealing just how watered down the last drink of his had been. A joke to charge money for tap water with a drop of whisky in it.

"You could say that, but it's all just strictly business. I get paid to do what others can't, or won't. It's a lucrative market." He replied.

She took a sip from her beer.

"And thas why yah came tah Belter Sol, then? That loocrative market?" She asked.

"I asked you first, ma'am. What brings you all the way out here?" He pressed.

He watched as she turned her attention back to her beer, taking another sip. If she really was Krystal she could be stalling for time, or maybe she was just deciding if she could tell him the real reason why she was here. Could go either way now. This woman had him intrigued even if it turned out not to be McCloud's woman.

"If yah must know, I want tah make ah name for me self usin' the skills the Academy taught me before I got kicked out." She replied with a shrug. He chuckled to that.

"Kicked out? I can't imagine why someone would ever think to do that." He told her, and it looked like she was warming up to the idea of telling him.

"Dishonorable discharge, Mistah Wolf. I was a bit too mouthy with mah superiors, and then I got caught puttin' mah mouth on one of 'ems dick and they used that as their 'scuse. I hope yah won't think less o' me." She confessed, turning in her seat so she could face him a little more, and matching his own posture by dropping her elbow onto the bar they were each looking at each other with their drinks in their hand.

"How could I ever judge a woman for her mouth when I have a reputation like mine? I think I'm about even for words and bullets when it comes to popping off." He replied.

She took another drink, then lowered her glass to look him in the eyes before glancing over her shoulder.

"I'm here tah make a name for me self. I see other pilots go freelance, so why can't I? I scored good marks in my training! I can be famous once ah start getting' a reputation of me own." She told him proudly.

"So, you're looking for work then? Real work?" He asked her.

"Any sort o' job that needs ah pilot with her own ship. I fly ah Cornerian T-80. Not tha best, but it's in tip top shape if I do say." She replied with pride before tipping her beer back to make a big show of a swallow. She downed so much drink in one go it was like she was trying to prove she had enough masculinity to know what to do with a flight stick, despite what her lipstick and thick accent might have implied.

He felt a bit thirsty himself and took up his own drink, polishing off half of it before putting it back down.

"Well, as it so happens, I am here on business, though the type of work I'm hiring for is more about muscle then piloting. Who else have you worked for?" He asked her, humoring the Cerinian for the moment.

She made a noise, puffing up her chest like she was about to start bragging. He didn't mind, her chest was quite impressive.

"After ah got the boot from tha Academy, I found work doin' escorts for CommAir and Intah-Transit. After that, I went to Katinah and did some security work planetside. I might not have as much muscle as chew do, but I'm ah crack shot. If I'd joined tha Army I'd been ah marksman, they told me." She replied with a smug smile.

He replied with a wry grin of his own. CommAir and Inter-Transit weren't too special. They were very reliable employers of freelancers for the simple reason that every smuggler, pirate, and vagrant with a ship tried to pull a heist on their shipping vessels. It wasn't often that any of those attempts were successful, but that was mostly because companies like those spent good money hiring as many escorts as they could. The war might have been over, but the violence never really ended. It just changed form.

Wolf didn't think he'd need a marksman in his ranks, but there was always the chance a gunfight might break out.

"How good were you are 300 meters." He asked her the big question.

"Had good groupings. Didn't always land me bullseyes like ah wanted, but if I aim for ye chest I hit nine rounds out o' ten to yah sternum." She replied smugly before tossing back the rest of her drink.

Her answer was pretty good, if it was true.

"Pretty good grouping then. What were you using?" He asked.

"Combat rifle o' course! Though I pulled it off with ah blastah, too. Did that to get into me drill sergeants' trousers and tha rest is history." She smiled.

A tight grouping with a Cornerian blaster at 300 meters? Those things were piss at range! It wasn't impossible to get a good grouping with one, but you were fighting against the gun as much as you were fighting the wind and the range.

"That's pretty impressive, assuming I believe you." He told her.

"Chew don't have tah believe me! I can prove it if you give me tha chance. Just name a time and place, I need tha work didn't I tell ya?" She replied, twisting more in her chair until she was directly facing him. This strange vixen had him intrigued, and even though he didn't need a pilot nor a woman on this next mission he couldn't deny that he was curious to see how good she can shoot.

"I might just take you up on that offer. You've got me curious." He told her back.

She smiled really big then, and lifted her hand to wave at the bartender, then pointed down at her empty drink to ask for another.

"I'd really appreciate it and believe you me I can make it worth yah while! Even if yah don't need me ship, I can show you I know my way around ah pistol, maybe even more than that." She told him, cocking a seductive grin.

He lifted his eyebrows at her insinuation. For a brief moment he remembered that he'd swore this woman was Krystal. If this vixen was offering her body up for sale, then that would settle it. As much as he hated McCloud, he didn't think he was the type to tolerate a whore on his ship let along in his own bedroom. He was such a virtuous little shitheel he probably held mass every Sunday on his ship.

"Well, I can't promise I can hire you, but you make a tempting offer." He replied, not hiding his gaze as he let it trace down her body. He openly admired her, not letting her think otherwise. Her top hugged her tits, showing off how large they were. He could believe they were a killer set if someone got them free of that outfit. The rest of her was probably right fine, as well. Normally he'd never let himself wander like this when he had a job to do, but something about this woman had his curiosity and desire shooting up like a rocket.

When a woman commanded your attention in a seedy place like this, the rule was usually to walk away, but Wolf was thinking this was a safe bet. And if she proved herself to be a marksman then he might just have to squeeze her into the mission payroll.

"Yous got that look in yah eye. What do yah say?" She asked.

The bartender appeared, but not with a drink. He offered her his payment device and she quickly reached into her jacket pocket to go for her wallet. Wolf reached out and stopped her.

"I'll take it. Mine and hers." He offered, and she smiled back at him like she knew what was coming. As she put her wallet back into her jacket Wolf removed his own credit chip while the bartender made some adjustments on the machine. The bartender finished, then offered him the device. One scan later and the tab was paid for both of them.

Wolf had just paid for a stranger's drinks and was about to take her to bed. He could certainly see that's she why she got the boot from the military if this was the kind of troublemaker she was.

He got up from his seat, the vixen joining him. She was a bit tall for a woman, but he still towered over her. She offered him her arm and he chuckled and took it. As they left the bar he took the lead, knowing that there was a place nearby where they could go to let this vixen show him how good she was with a man's pistol.

Now that they were out on the streets, he took her to a nearby hotel. It was a sleazy place with four floors. The first three were for residents of Belter Sol, like apartments, but the fourth floor was for visitors to the station that had money. Wolf walked the vixen inside, and then asked for a room on the fourth. He got the idea then to let his hand slide down her back, figuring she'd enjoy the attention. He found her ass and gave it a squeeze, enjoying the feel of her meat in his hand.

"Yah like me backside?" She asked, and he growled back to her warmly in the affirmative.

The longer they stood there waiting for the host to fetch them a room the more his thoughts began to swim with what he wanted to do with her. He hadn't realized just how hard up this most recent dry spell had been! When was his last woman? He wasn't sure. He didn't think it could have been that long ago, but now that he was trying to think of it, he just couldn't remember.

Now that this vixen was hanging off his arm, that's all he could think about. This Krystal McCloud lookalike might not have been the real deal, but she was a looker all the same. Shapely, great tits, nice ass. He'd enjoy rooting his dick in her until she was hollow like all the rest of the women he'd bedded.

"402, Mr. O'Donnell." The host returned with an old-fashioned key. This place didn't use electronic locks.

With key in hand, he led the girl to the special elevator that had only one stop, the fourth. The vixen practically dragged him inside the tube and before the door could even shut, she was now all over him. Her hands were grabbing at his face, pulling him down for a kiss, and he returned it hungrily. Their tongues sparred left and right, his hands openly groping her ass as he growled down at her.

"Are ya goin' tah fuck me, Mistah Wolf?" She growled cutely back up at him with an electric fire in her eyes that turned him on even more.

"You bet your ass I am." He practically snarled back at her.

The door slid back open, and he shoved her out of the elevator and into the hallway. They struggled to make their way to room 402 between kissing and groping until Wolf was fumbling with the key at the door until the vixen's hand reached out to help. Together, they guided the key into the slot like a cock in a socket, and then they turned it together. The door popped open, and he pushed her in, slamming the door behind them.

It was a red satin room, warm and inviting, perfect for carnal trysts like this. The pair staggered towards the bed, the vixen grabbing him by the jacket and pushing him while her lips hungrily sparred with his. He groped her ass, running his hands up her back and beneath her jacket until he was working to pull the garment off her.

The backs of Wolf's knees hit the bed, uncharacteristic of him since normally it was the woman that was hitting the bed first. She pushed, he sat, and no sooner than his ass hit the bed her knees were hitting the floor.

The blue vixen was eyeing his crotch hungrily, his erection straining the fabric of his pants tightly while her hands rubbed his inner thighs up and down.

"So, Mistah Wolf, do yah really want me to show yah how good I am with ah gun?" She said with a lick of her lips, leaning forward until her cheek touched his thigh, looking up at him while her hand drifted to rest over the swell of his bulge.

"That's why you're here, isn't it?" He growled down at her, and then her fingers reached and found his zipper.

She tugged, and as the sound of his fly being opened filled the air Wolf leaned back, putting both hands on the bed behind him, admiring the sight of a woman submitting to his needs, and eagerly at that. The longer he looked at her, the more convinced he was that he needed to fuck her, to really screw her brains out until she couldn't walk anymore. He didn't need her to walk if she was as good with a pistol as she claimed, since he could just throw her into his cabin and use her like a toy until the mission was done.

He smiled at that, and she smiled back up at him with a knowing smile, almost like she knew exactly what he was thinking. Maybe the real reason she got the boot from the military wasn't because she got caught sucking dick. Maybe she was just the village bicycle for the whole damn Academy, and they tossed her out before she could tarnish their reputation. Heh.

She snapped the button of his pants and jerked the fabric apart to expose the grey fabric of his boxers, and no sooner than she'd freed his underwear she was burying her face into his crotch. His pink tip was straining at the fabric, turning his boxers into a tent that this slutty vixen was more than happy to invade. She kissed him through the fabric, a damp spot growing at his tip as it swelled more and more to escape past the confines of his plump sheath.

When she started to tug down his boxers he helped her, wiggling his hips so she can work his pants and boxers down until finally his cock sprung free. Without holding it back his erection filled the air, rising to attention, growing in length and girth while the vixen admired it, licking her lips hungrily.

"Well, aren'chu ah big, big boy." She cooed, pressing her noose to the base of his dick. It was a cold sensation at first, that quickly warmed up as her eyes looked back up at him.

He felt a shiver down his spine, the electric fire of lust activating in ways he'd not felt in years! He wanted this bitch, wanted to see himself buried to the balls in her slutty little snatch!

"Gonna plug you to the gills with it, too." He growled, and noticed he was salivating. He? Wolf O'Donnell actually drooling over a woman? This vixen was something else to get his engine running this hot!

She chuckled cutely; a feminine noise that drove him wild. His cock was stiff to attention, eager to please, and more eager to rut. Even his knot was excited, pulsing with his heartbeat until it was swollen to the brim with his raging hot blood!

"One." She said, planting a kiss on the bottom of his engorged knot.

"Two." She continued, planting another kiss, but higher up his knot.

One by one, the slut was actually counting the inches of his cock with careful measures of her lips on his dick, counting every inch out loud while her eyes kept looking upward, driving him wild until the tip of his dick was spitting and drooling precum like he hadn't done since a teenager. When was the last time he'd felt this aroused? Since when could his dick get this fucking hard? Did he seriously stumble across the Lylat System's One Whore to rule them All?

"Eight." She purred right into the side of his shaft as her lips left one more kiss.

She had more inches to go, counting them all, never had a math lesson been so erotic!

"Twelve." She said, getting closer and closer to his drooling tip.

"Fourteen." Wolf knew he was hung, but having this slut say it out loud was like music to his ears! If ever there was a way to brag about your cock, having a woman do it for you while sucking your dick was surely the best way!

"Six." She exhaled hotly over the tip of his cock. "Teen."

She put her mouth over his tip and then let her head drop. His lengthy prick slid across her velvet tongue from her teeth to her throat like there was nothing stopping her. Didn't gag once, not even when he knew for a fact he was slithering down her throat to stretch out her neck. This woman had talent!

The vixen put her hands on his hips, sliding them around until she was grabbing him by the ass, and then using him as leverage, she forced her head all the way down.

With one big gulping noise she swallowed him down to the knot, her lips touching his knot and his back suddenly arched backwards. Fuck! She was so smooth, hot, wet, tight! His eyes were fucking starting to roll back in his head, his heart fluttering, he was actually getting lightheaded! Just as he thought he was about to drop backwards and pass out she pulled off his cock with a loud wet smack.

"You think mah pussy be any bettah, Mistah Wolf? Or you afraid to try the bess hole in all o' Lylat?" She teased him, licking spit and precum from her lips.

He smirked, sitting himself back up and reaching down to grab the girl under her armpits. He stood, drawing her upright along with him until her toes were hovering over the well-worn carpet. Wolf spun around and tossed her ass to the bed before planting his hands over her shoulders and shoving her flat to the mattress.

The entire time she was admiring him with a glint in her eye, her velvet tongue licking her lips while her hands snaked down her front to find the button of her pants. Wolf took over for her, quickly, roughly undoing her pants before yanking them impatiently down her legs. His cock bobbed and jerked in the open air, slinging strings of messy pre over the girl and the floor while he wrangled her out of her pants until at last her pretty little petals were exposed for all to see.

He moved in swiftly, making sure her ass was right at the edge of the mattress before he let his heavy cock drop over his stomach. His tip easily reached past her navel while his knot and balls brushed up against her snatch.

"Beg for it slut." He growled down at her, dropped both hands to the bed, landing them both to her either side.

"Fuck me, Mistah Wolf! Show ah girl how much o' ah Brute you can be!" She teased him, licking her own lips while she grabbed the bottom of her vest and yanked them over her ample tits, those fat feminine pendulums swinging down the sides of her chest like they had the weight to knock a man unconscious.

"A brute, eh?" He snarled, letting her see the whites of his teeth.

"Fuck me! Holster yah cock in me, love!" She shouted at him, while her hands moved down to grab at his cock, wrapping both hands around him before squeezing him tight. Using her hands to push his cock down her belly and towards her cunt, dragging his tip across the fur of her stomach as he drew his hips back.

She guided his prick down to her entrance, leaving a trail of wet pre running down her front until his tip was nestled at her sodden opening.

The moment he felt him part her petals he slammed his hips forward. The little whore barked with surprise, her eyes bulging open suddenly before returning to normal with a satisfied flutter. He stood himself upright, taking his hands from the bed and placing them on her hips. With his single thrust he'd buried himself down to the knot, but he was too turned on and eager to finish to let it stand at only that.

"Fucking velvet." He growled as he took a firm grip of her and started to eagerly plow her.

She moaned, her noises flowing from her mouth as liberally as the juice was from her cunt. Her pussy felt tight like an undersized glove but had all the stretch and give of a woman that knew how to take a cock. This was a hole that'd seen plenty of dick, but it belonged to a woman that knew how to make every time feel like a first time, and Wolf was feeling the tremors of lightning lance up and down his spine as the pleasure threatened to buckle his knees.

"Fuck!" He snarled, his knees popping forward to slam into the mattress. It'd been years since a whore made him feel like putty! He let his knees press into the mattress, holding him upright and steady as his hands held onto her like claws, refusing to let go as he pistoned himself into her like the puff and chug of a steam locomotive. Hard, heavy, hot, and raw. The fire burning deep down in the engine of his loins demanded that he continue, to do as nature intended and split this harlot in two!

Spit fell as droplets from his barred teeth as he panted, growled, snarled over her. The slut's hands groped at his stomach, her fingertips tracing wildly through his fur to find purchase on his taut muscles.

"Fahk! Wolf!" She howled, her back arching as a climax hit her. Watching her writhe on his cock left his dick jumping excitedly in her snatch as ropes of precum filled her to the brim before leaking clean out of her. The slut was going to make him cum like a geyser, he knew it deep down in his balls! This was going to be incredible, to cum like a teenager again!

He actually let out a wicked laugh that quickly turned into a snarl as he hitched his hips against hers, grinding his bulbous knot against her cunt to test the waters. She had stretch, sure, but his cock was a brutish piece of meat that most women struggled to take.

"Sink it!" She shouted, one of her hands shooting down to his crotch to wrap her fingers behind his knot like a bitch holding a wine glass.

He felt her tug and pull at his knot until her second hand joined the first to give it a hearty yank that left him breathless.

This slut wanted it! It thrilled him! Let him on fucking fire to see a woman desperate to take his dick! Half the whores he fucked started off strong until they were told to take it, ad then they'd try to scrambled away across the bed until he pinned them down and made them earn their pay. But this purple headed harlot was trying to devour his cock with her cunt, and she was HUNGRY!

"Fucking whore!" He snarled down at her, redoubling his efforts to give her what she wanted, what they both wanted.

What Wolf wanted, NO, what he NEEDED was to feel how tight she'd be around his cock as her insides cradled his prick like a mother's loving touch. He needed to pump her guts full of seed, to rearrange her fucking insides, to leave her howling and begging for his God damned puppies! Wolf was going mad, his fingernails digging into the slut's sides as he SLAMMED his knot against the lips of her cunt.

Harder, he fucked her harder, he was panting, the vixen's hands desperately clinging and pulling on his knot every time he sank himself home, desperate, and needy to fill herself with his obscenely large knot.

Those petals were trying to give, trying to stretch themselves out for the two of them. The slut was writhing again, her entire body a trembling, jerking mess as she came again. Her cunt hosed him down with squirt, lubing her tunnel up even more as those precious petals split apart just a little more. He was so fucking close, so fucking close! He was glaring down at the action, watching as his knot pried her open a little more with every thrust, making steady progress, he was so fucking God damned close!

"O' mah GOD, DO IT!" She screamed, her legs twitching wilding at his sides as she lost all control, her back arching violently as his knot sank halfway into her snatch. He glanced at her face, saw her eyes rolling back in her head with ecstasy, her mouth hanging open. He could feel her hands, her fingers, clenching tight to the backside of his knot like she'd just been hit with a taser.

With every ounce of his strength, he did what he was good at. He acted like a brute.

He yanked down on her hips, not caring for the consequences as his knot finally squelched sharply into her cunt.

The slut went wide eyed and silent, and so did he. They were both consumed by the warm embrace of velvet serenity as the taut walls of her cunt wrapped snuggly around the ball of muscle that now tied them together.

Wolf's serenity ended with the most violent orgasm he'd every experienced in his life. He was seeing flashes of light explode in his vision, his heavy nuts no longer sagging and swinging below him. No, they were tight as stones now, locked up against his ass as they painfully emptied themselves of everything he'd been saving up for the next unlucky slut to cross paths with him. The veins on his balls were bulging, angry, the skin of his sac wrinkled from how tightly they were pulled up to his body.

He was unloading harder than any teenager. Wolf didn't know a man could cum this hard, as rope after violent rope exploded from his tip. In seconds he felt the familiar pressure that signaled that the woman he was fucking had just run out of room, but then something audibly popped inside her, the entrance to her womb giving in and letting all of Wolf's feral seed soak ever deeper into the vixen's body.

Wolf looked looked down, blinking through his mute ecstasy, half-aware and half-sane, watching the girl's stomach swell with every twitch and throb of his cock.

The harlot then went limp from exhaustion and sensory overload, all except for her pelvis. The only part of her that was moving was her abdominal muscles, her cunt flexing and clamping down on his shaft each and every time his dick spat out another rope of cum. The only part of her body that was still working was the only part that mattered to Wolf, her delicious cunt. It was milking him just as hard as he was trying to be milked, their mutual need carrying both canines ever faster to the inevitable conclusion of their union.

Wolf finally began to feel his body sag, his muscles all giving out at once as his strength left him.

First, he slumped, then collapsed forward on top of her. He couldn't even muster up a possessive growl as he went limp, instead letting out a very satisfied moan. As his heart thudded quickly in his chest, he felt his eyelids grow heavy, the unscripted sexual encounter taking a shocking toll on him.

Beneath him, the vixen wasn't limp anymore. Her legs carefully wrapped around his middle while her hands reached around to his back to stroke her fingers through the fur of his back and neck.

"Atta boy." She cooed to him, her voice now out of breath.

He moaned again, a deep rumble of a noise that left her giggling in reply.

"You did good, O'Donnell. Lasted longer than most." She laughed into his ear as he lost consciousness, her voice now sounding identical to that of one Krystal McCloud.

And now, alone on the bed was the unconscious body of Wolf O'Donnell. Lying flat on his back with his legs still hanging off the bed, he was still quietly making a mess of himself as his flagging erection drained out the last of whatever he had left in his testicles. It was an impressive mess he was making of himself, and fortunately not a drop of it was on, or inside, of her. She didn't need that kind of trouble today, and she didn't want to give her husband's biggest rival the satisfaction of having bedded his wife.

Sitting on the bed next to him now, Krystal held her eyes shut while she placed her hand over the man's forehead to help her concentrate. With the man lying unconscious next to her, she had free reign of his mind, sifting through his thoughts and memories like a child might a box of toys. With the freedom to rummage about his head she began to search.

Despite how different Wolf and Fox were outwardly, there was a curious similarity to their inner thoughts. Both were workaholics, focused on the business of their bread and butter. Business accounts, invoices to pay, receipts to catalogue, supplies to procure, and new work to secure. The only difference was that Wolf carried within himself a darkness. He was an angry and bitter man, full of envy and jealousy that he hid behind snarls and scowls. He used the threat of violence and brutality to disguise his feared inadequacy.

He hated Fox. It was almost irrational, too. Hated him for his heritage, for perceived unearned glory, for many things. Mostly all of it was driven by Wolf's many defeats at the hands of Fox McCloud. He needed a therapist.

Ah, there. She'd found it.

Rattling around in the cage of his mind she'd finally found what she needed. The X, Y, and Z coordinates for an upcoming job the Star Wolf Team was scheduled to accept. Now, the Star Fox Team not only knew where Wolf was planning to go to accept that job, but Krystal was about to make sure that job never happened. With these coordinates The Great Fox and three of Corneria's finest warships could pounce and pack the whole thing up before it could ever get off the ground. The Cornerian Defense Force would pay them handsomely for helping put a stop to the smuggling of weapons and equipment from their own supply. For nearly a year the Cornerians had suffered a leak of weapons that were starting to cause serious problems with public transit across the System, as well as upsetting the safety of the merchant shipping lanes.

To ensure that Wolf would never reach his destination she took up the coordinates in Wolf's mind, held them tight within her inner eye, and then... She made them vanish. Gone, as if they were never there to begin with. He'd remember that he had the coordinates, but he wouldn't remember what they were, and now never would. If he hadn't been so cagey with his own crew then maybe he'd have told someone else where they were going, or perhaps he'd have written it down, but in Wolf's arrogance he'd simply committed it to memory like he apparently did a lot of very important information...

Fox never did that. He always kept a copy of anything valuable in at least two secure locations as insurance. Usually with ROB or with her.

Once she was finished, she opened her eyes and pulled her hand away. She would not have been able to do this without knocking him unconscious first. Sitting there in a crowded bar had been stressful on her senses, what with all the white noise of drunken thoughts flooding her own. But that's where Fox's informants had told them Wolf would be going to look for henchman. So, she had waited for Wolf to arrive, and soon as he did, she made him look in her direction, planting the thought in his mind that she was Krystal McCloud to make sure he walked in her direction, and even forced that pig sitting next to her to stand up and wander away confused so her target would have a place to sit.

Then she had to dance around as another woman with another name, talking in that God awful thick accent that everyone on the ship assured her sounded perfect as a disguise. She wasn't born and raised on Cerinia, but she was pretty sure no one actually sounded like that on her parent's home planet! And it had been a terrible disguise. If it wasn't for her meddling with his thoughts the entire time he was talking to her at the bar he'd never have fallen for her disguise. She'd been gaslighting him the entire time until finally the madness won.

And once he was all alone with her in this room, that was the easiest part. With all of his attention on her she only had to get him to let down his guard completely. His mind was a cage, tight with only the narrowest of cracks to squeeze herself through. Reading one's mind was easy, but that was only the thoughts that they allowed themselves to think in the moment, but if she wanted to go digging, she needed them to be vulnerable and defenseless. Gaslighting him in the bar had been trouble enough, but to dig deep into his head and find something he'd refused to even tell his crew mates, that would require him to be out like a light.

So, she broke him down with her mouth, wielding sex as a weapon until at last he let down his guard too much. Around the exact same time she'd kissed his knot, she also drained enough blood from his brain to make him fall backwards, limp as a wet noodle.

It was such a wonderful trick now that she had it mastered. So many years ago, on the Planet Sauria, when she'd used the Psionic Purge to kill dozens of men where they stood, that was really an act as simple as using telekinesis to force too much blood to flow to the brain, causing multiple aneurisms to occur at once. What she did to Wolf was the reverse. With her telekinesis she drew blood away from his brain and sent it somewhere else, in this case his dick, and he didn't notice it at all. Why would he? He was getting a blowjob, that's exactly where all his blood should go.

After he was out cold, his cock sagging limp and sliding back into his sheath she'd stood up and sat down next to him, reaching over then to put her hand on his forehead. First, she planted a sleazy, intense set of memories in his head. She needed him to be convinced that he'd met some slut in a bar that was the perfect whore. Some one-of-a-kind vixen that he'd never in a million years confuse for Krystal McCloud. It was actually kind of fun writing a little erotica and planting it inside a man's mind like he'd been reading it on a page. The story she'd cooked up was so potent that Wolf had actually regained his erection and blew a load all over himself. All the better, since it would just make the encounter that much more real to him when he eventually regained consciousness. She couldn't afford any loose ends, and she needed him to believe every moment of this had been real.

It would look exactly like he'd taken a woman to bed, blew a load, and then she snuck out while he was snoozing.

And sneak out was exactly what Krystal was about to do. She stood, her mission now complete, and then made her way over to the nightstand. She found a small pad of note paper in the drawer, along with a cheap pen, and then tore off one page. She scribbled down a note for Wolf and signed it under a fake name. When he woke up, she knew he'd see it and read it. Along with the erotic memory she left in his head was the idea that he needed to search for a note from her. He'd do it without knowing why.

She didn't sign it with the fake name from the forged ID she used. If Wolf ever tried to find the real Veranda Deets he would discover that she was a 92 year old feline that lived in a nursing home in Corneria City, and the photo used had been taken from a digital year book for some high school, and had been taken 32 years ago. The ID, to him, would be an obvious forgery using stolen personal information.

No, the name she signed the note with was a callsign she'd made up on the fly.

She put the pen down and left. Krystal had been alone with Wolf for less than ten minutes and when she reached the ground floor she said hello to the host at the front desk, and then knocked him out with a sudden drop in blood pressure just like she had with Wolf. About a minute of staring at him later, and he'd forgotten what she looked like, but he'd be 100% sure she was purple all over. Hair and even her fur.

With a keycode stolen from the clerk's memory she made her exit out the locked backdoor and then disappeared into the hive of scum and villainy that was Belter Sol.

An hour later Wolf woke up, and his sense of alarm was immediate. First, he questioned the absence of the girl, and then he questioned the time he'd wasted, and then he remembered to look for a note from her. He found it on the nightstand, and soon as he'd read it he was furious! How could HE, Wolf O'Donnell get hoodwinked by some harlot bitch! This is some ridiculous shit Panther would do!

Covered in cum he had to make the walk of shame to the bathroom to clean himself up. He'd lost valuable time and he had to start moving faster now to hire who he needed for the job. He was so upset and in a hurry that it didn't occur to him then that he couldn't remember the coordinates for the rendezvous point. By the time he realized it it'd be too late, and he'd suffer a minor mutiny when all the thugs he'd hired realized their boss forgot where they were going.

Still sitting on the nightstand was the note written by a woman Wolf would never be able to forget, both for good and for bad.

"No hard feelings, love, but I'm a busy girl." It read.

Signed,

"Kursed. <3"