Star Fox: Humiliation - Further Defilement
Untold hours passed at an excruciating crawl.
This time...
Fox's eyes fluttered, darting about under closed eyelids. Featureless blackness danced before him. He could tell he was half awake. One of those rare occasions where Fox was asleep and completely aware that he was asleep, and that awareness didn't force him to wake up. He could sense a dream playing in the back of his mind. All he had to do was fall back and rejoin it. He could continue sleeping.
This time, it'll...
But he also felt the real world. Barely cool, he sensed that he was floating. Something soft, slick, and fleshy held fast around his hips and core. It held him softly, lightly caressing his form. Something squirmed around inside.
Deep inside.
This time, it'll be different, Fox declared, his mind surging forward and forcing his eyes open. It has to be different.
It wasn't different. He was still inside. He was still a plaything.
Still floating, and still without any perception of relative direction, Fox simply imagined his body to be horizontal, facing upward, arms floating aimlessly above his head as his consciousness snapped back in place and he regained his bearings.
He didn't look down. That was the first "rule" he had learned. "You don't look where the creature doesn't want you to look." Whenever he tried, Fox would just find a tentacle reaching out and restraining his head. With that in mind, Fox simply kept his head tilted back, and attempted to orient himself with his remaining senses.
Only two feelers were currently working him over. One sat lashed about his torso, another had already penetrated him and spread him wide. Every time Fox had fallen asleep, he had found himself in that exact situation. He had been taken over a dozen times since his first, brutal fucking, and each session proved more passionate than the last. Deeper, too. In fact, the emasculated fox could tell by the squelching noise and the feeling of the alien presence inside his body that this was the deepest the creature had ever been.
He reached down. That was allowed. With a sharp exhale, Fox slid his hands between his own twitching abdomen and the slimy tendril that caressed it, affectionately observing as nearly every muscle below Fox's ribcage convulsed uncontrollably around the unflappable, probing invader.
Fox traced downward with his fingers, making his best estimate as to how deep the tentacle truly was inside of him. Eventually settling his hands just beneath his navel, he pushed, pressing his fingers into his muscled stomach. For a while, there was a pause. The penetrating tendril held still as Fox pushed inward, like a doctor examining a patient, finding nothing.
I can't tell how deep it went until it moves. Last time - while I was _conscious - it went at least this--_
The tentacle lurched, sinking a small handful of inches of its length deeper into the fox's bowels. Fox cringed. His legs snapped erect. His back arched, but he didn't make a sound. He was too distracted. He could feel the intruder.
It was far deeper than he expected.
No... Fox thought, tracing the length of his large intestine, hand over hand until he neared his left iliac crest, at the colon's first major turn. It was still there, and judging by the uniform thickness of the feeler, he wasn't even close to the end.
No, no, no, no... he repeated in his head, sliding his hands upward, further along his intestinal tract. Adjacent to the bottom-left corner of his ribcage, he found the next turn. Still there. Still much deeper.
At this rate, I'll find the end somewhere in my _throat..._
Fox grunted as he continued, surprised at how lax the creature was being with him. It was as if it wanted him to fully contemplate the thoroughness of his defilement. Eventually, with a sigh of relief, he found the end as it began to taper off just short of the hepatic flexure, the final turn before descending the ascending colon which ended at the cecum. The sigh was interrupted and replaced by an almost spasm-like groan as Fox made a realization.
This thing has almost mapped out my... entire_ large intestine._
The thing lurched forward again, as if in a sordid reply to Fox's thought. His body twitched and trembled as it did before, but yet again, Fox didn't make a sound, even as the beast pressed at that last sacred corner. He almost took it as a sign of progress. During the first, many, long hours of the creature's treatment, Fox had abandoned all self-respect and wailed like mad as he was reamed like a car cylinder, but now, even as the creature buried its tendrils deep into his gut, Fox didn't even notice a change in his breathing. He hadn't screamed for a long while, unless forced into one of the numerous orgasms he had experienced at the will of his captor.
As the tentacle rested in the most ridiculous spot in the vulpine's body, Fox also took the moment to rest and organize his thoughts, until the restraining tentacle slipped itself over Fox's erect flesh, looping over it and pinning it down to his abdomen. His hands darted downward, trying to free his member from the tendril's grasp, but to no avail, and with soft, rolling groan, he held his hands high once more, floating outward as Fox closed his eyes again, trying to fall back asleep in spite of the unbelievable feeling of fullness.
The creature had other plans. With a twist and a shove, the penetrating tendril wrenched itself in a brutal rotation, mutilating Fox's mind in sweet, intense euphoria. Fox's entire body flinched, coiling up into a ball as his instincts kicked in for the first time in days, but the moment Fox tried to look down, his head was restrained, along with his wrists and ankles. The tendril torqued and screwed inside the hapless fox, engulfing his senses with the shameless rush of being dominated.
Every ounce of progress had been shattered. A simple, rapidly-repeated ninety-degree rotation was all it took to erase hours of mental conditioning, causing him to yelp and whimper like he was being penetrated for the first time.
So much for intestinal fortitude...
He laughed. The tentacle paused, each tendril in direct contact with its prey holding still and falling limp as it held the hysterical vulpine. Fox laughed at his own pun, his own situation, his entire lot in life, before he could even try to stop himself. It was anything but some ironic, choked-out, throaty laugh. It came from the gut, so intense, it stressed the fox's succulent musculature even further. The creature hadn't stopped because it had heard McCloud. To Fox's estimation, the creature had no real sense of sound, save for an acute sense of vibration, due to an exceedingly sharp sense of touch.
No. The reason the creature had stopped was because Fox's laugh had pleased it. With each uncontrollable guffaw, every muscle, sinew, and fiber in Fox's body expanded and contracted, rippling in almost orgasmic fervor. The invasive tendril paused to bask and take in the stimulation of its stunning little bitch massaging its length with his entire body.
Laughter wracked Fox's body for a solid minute, eventually subsiding once he had finally run short of breath. The consequent, subsistent chuckles continued to churn as the creature decided to cease its treatment of its pet for the time being. Fox felt his limp legs being tucked into his chest at the creature's own consent. With his glutei pulled tight over his folded hips, Fox felt yet another tendril slowly wrap around the base of where the intrusive tentacle had impaled him, gently looping around the feeler and over his stretched, further-exposed sphincter.
Without warning, the creature tugged, all restraining tentacles pulling one way, while the two at his rump pulled another. In a single pull, the creature had freed nearly half of the tendril's buried length, drawing another yelp from McCloud. It had never been so rough before. It yanked harder, longer, and faster, and by the third brutal heave, the tendril popped free with an obscene slurp, leaving Fox with absolutely nothing but the feeling of abject, unnatural emptiness.
Fox trembled, wrapping his arms around his tucked knees, even after the restraining feelers had fallen away, leaving him adrift. He wasn't left alone for long. Without even enough time to think of a proper comeback, the formerly internal, unsettlingly-clean tentacle gently pushed against Fox's protruding rear, gently prodding him through the air to eventually meet the interior wall, as if storing him to be enjoyed again later. As he floated slowly toward the patient, writhing masses of even more tentacles, Fox realized what to say.
"Thanks!" he began to quip, "now I know what a cored apple feels like! Very educationa--AAAAAH!"
The joke was cut short as a shorter, particularly-ornery tentacle whipped up and snapped around his ankle. There were countless tentacles inside the sphere that were far too short to properly enjoy their prisoner when he floated in the center of the orb, some only reaching as long as four feet in length, but when Fox was held against the interior wall, the shorter tentacles had him all to themselves. It almost appeared as though it were some agreement between the longer and shorter tentacles, acting as if both a hive mind, as well some kind of caste system.
With an energetic swing, the tendril slammed Fox down against the wall/floor/ceiling, against a veritable bed of numerous other tentacles that happily slipped over, around, and between Fox's arms, legs, musculature, and specific, meticulous care, his rump.
They pulled him down, pressing Fox's back between the root of each tentacle and against the cool, moist, almost liquid surface of the interior wall, holding him still so as not to lose track of him. As Fox took in a deep breath, soon followed by a chilling rattle of an exhale, he looked across the sphere, to the exact opposite end of the curve, to his ruined ship.
The creature had not taken kindly to Fox's Arwing, having snapped its wings and fried its systems within first few seconds of contact, but the process of demolishing Fox's last hope of escape was hardly complete. The ship wasn't even recognizable anymore. What once was an angular, sleek fighter had been overgrown with the strange tissue of the interior wall, now a lumpy, indeterminable mess.
Fox's line of sight soon faced an obstruction as a long tentacle eagerly reached out and presented itself directly in front of the restrained pilot, and it wasn't alone. Another, identical tendril stretched outward with it, coiled delicately around the shaft of its twin. It was the tentacle that had just finished fucking McCloud. He had seen this before. After a notably deep incursion with his amorous captor, another tentacle would reach out and wrap around the main penetrator, pulling out with it and remaining in place along that tentacle's length.
The distance between the coiled tentacle and the tip of the penetrator served as an indicator.
It was how deep Fox had been speared.
If the measurement were to be trusted, the length that had managed to be crammed inside the vulpine's body had to equal over four feet. The large intestine stretch on for an average of roughly five and a half feet.
If the alimentary canal were a straight line from the mouth to the anus, the creature would have pushed in enough length to completely impale him nearly twice over.
"That's fascinating," Fox snidely commented, pulling his head up while his body remained restrained. His raging erection twitched a little faster at the creature's display, completely against his will. As intense as the last session had been, Fox still hadn't cum.
There was no visual response from the creature. Instead, the two tentacles simply pulled away, all the while, the penetrator slid further and further through the loop wrapped around it, promising McCloud that eventually, inevitably, it would decide to delve even deeper. "Oh! Huh! _Suuure. _Can't wait! Yeah, not much room left, though. Sorry about that!"
The sarcasm was a defense mechanism, and a faulty one at that. It wasn't inefficient, or even obsolete, just incompatible. Using harsh words to protect his pride against a totally deaf monstrosity was like donning a suit of armor to prevent drowning. It only served to intimidate Fox further. Every time the creature didn't bother to respond and yet continued to abuse him, regardless of consent, it reminded him.
It owned him.
Rolling his eyes, Fox growled and slammed his head back against the soft solid liquid of the interior wall. He actively chose not to struggle as the short feelers continued to eagerly roam every inch his body from the neck down. Even the most tame and innocuous of places were endlessly smothered by the slick tentacles, from the soles of his feet to the palms of his hands and over his shoulders, but, for some odd reason, it was the way a certain feeler would eventually weave between his fingers or toes that put Fox most on edge, most violated.
That is, until a more malicious feeler laced its way up, under his thigh, and looped around his turgid, twitching flesh.
Fox tried to stay quiet, biting down on his tongue in an attempt to distract himself. For a short while, he was successful, even as the tendril, with a firm grip but a gentle touch, slathered a clear, thick, even coat that intensified every little sensation hundredfold.
After the tentacle worked its way from base to tip--even taking care to dip lightly into his urethra--it quickly went to work. Starting at a moderate, yet diligent pace, the feeler jerked up and down over Fox's length like a perverted owner would play "Red Rocket" with his pet.
Schlick, schlick, schlick...
It was then that Fox lost his composure, bucking and whining as the creature overtook his senses one more out of countless times. Muscles clenched, strings of spittle seethed away from clenched teeth into weightlessness, and every confining tentacle on Fox's body fell away, save for the ones holding his feet and hands.
It seemed the creature maintained some sense of sight, as it demonstrated a certain awareness of every slight occurrence within the hellish sphere. On top of that, it definitely reveled in its pet's nudity. Fox's nudity was constantly exploited to gratify the creature as it regularly gave him the opportunity to struggle before it defeated him over and over again.
Yet the creature wasn't content with simply masturbating its toy. Falling just short of elevating McCloud's heart rate, the tentacle slid to the end of Fox's member, coiling around the head before sending its victim into near-madness. It tugged back and forth, rubbing around vulpine's glans like a rope around a pulley.
Fox's entire body arced in kind, pushing outward until nothing touched the wall but his fists and feet. He contorted until his muscles cramped before a tendril tightened around his waist and pulled his rump back into place.
Loud, voiced, ragged breathing accompanied an increased tempo as the feeler quickened its thrusts, soon deciding to combine both treatments, sliding down his length while simultaneously spiraling around the circumference of his flesh.
Fox's arms and legs squirmed under their constant restraint, given enough room to convey his suffering but not enough to pull free. After several minutes of unwanted bliss, Fox eventually felt pleased rather than pathetic. Submissively euphoric, as opposed to simply suppressed
He began to thrust outward to meet the tendril's pumps, whole body giving a slight shiver at each of the feeler's feverish, subsequent slaps against his slender, toned torso. Soon, Fox's entire form began to match rhythm, less panicked thrusting and more brisk, lewd grinding as he felt his loins tighten and constrict. He didn't care how pitiful he looked, as long as he achieved climax.
A climax which never arrived. Just before Fox felt his prostate finish that last, deep spasm that would satisfy him at last, the tendril unspooled and pulled away. Each and every restraining tentacle froze on the spot, holding Fox down without an ounce of stimulation. The sudden contrast caused his body to quake and seize in protest, yearning for release.
By the time his nerves had cooled, all the restraints had slipped away, except for one looping around his tail, only to make sure he didn't float away from the wall. In slight confusion, Fox stayed still, arms out wide, legs spread and cock throbbing with his pounding heart. He anticipated. He tried to expect the unexpected, but he received nothing. Whenever the creature managed to get to Fox the most, it would always... leave. Fox never expected respite, he always expected something from the creature, which occasionally called for the creature to simply pull back and let the now-timid fox tear his own mind apart with his heightened paranoia.
This time, however, paranoia didn't force his mind into hysterics. Instead, it was something far more basic and primal: his libido. Fox simply wanted to cum. Cautiously, he sat up against the inside of the sphere, which was the next thing to put him on edge. For the first time in a long while, the creature wasn't hindering his movement in any way. Nothing touched the wall except his rump and feet. With shaking, shivering movements, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, staring intently at his pulsating flesh. Then he turned and looked to his right hand, slime having slicked the entirety of the paw-like pads on the palm and inside of each finger and thumb.
With a shaky breath, he realized. The creature wanted Fox to finish himself off for its own amusement. Just as he made that realization, he knew that he simply didn't care. He couldn't care. His senses themselves were about to implode if he didn't pleasure himself and find relief, so as quickly as it could reach, his hand darted toward his flesh...
Only to have a tendril dart out and wrap around his wrist, then both wrists, and then his ankles. It knew it had Fox where it wanted him, and it kept managing to find a way to sink its victory even deeper.
Fox tugged against the tendrils, but each one held fast, not even pulling against each push, but simply holding each limb perfectly in place. The moment Fox stopped resisting, stopped trying to please himself, the tendrils receded, speaking volumes without a single word.
They must want me to ask permission for _them to finish me off._
Without paying any mind to what he was implying with the gesture, Fox rolled over against the wall and thrust his hips out behind him, into the air, splaying his rump for the creature's pleasure. He swayed it side to side, even smacked it lightly with his hand, hoping the creature would finish what it started.
It didn't.
Fox let out a rattling gasp of despair as the creature continued to ignore him, then blushed as he realized what he just did. In a rapid attempt to regain his dignity, Fox turned back over, sat back down, and pretended he hadn't just offered himself up willingly.
So _that's it. This thing just wants me to suffer._
Still at wit's end, Fox laid back against the wall, fingers absentmindedly drumming against his abdominals. Strangely enough, nothing reached out to restrain him. His captor seemed to be quick enough to discern whenever Fox actually wanted to try and release himself from his own overbearing arousal, and didn't interfere with anything else he did.
Another thing the creature had over Fox. It could guess his every move, while he couldn't so much as even guess what _it _wanted.
Fox's stomach growled. He felt his stomach growl and the creature could feel it too. It had happened twice already. Both times, the creature somehow knew that its toy had a method of nourishing himself. Both times, it had released Fox, put him down against the interior wall, and let him move freely toward his own ship and acquire some of his emergency rations. This time would probably be no different.
Fox shifted onto his hands and knees, preparing himself to move, before looking directly above and calculating that due to his ship's position, any direction would prove equidistant. He wasn't allowed to jump across the sphere. If he did, tentacles would catch him and throw him back against the wall. The last handful times he tried, they did so and would also proceed to fuck him raw, but Fox had an understanding that they wouldn't.
Some small part of that would actually _want _that now.
Instead, he simply picked a direction, and began to crawl.
Despite the lack of gravity, crawling through, around, and between an unending thrush of powerful, lecherous tentacles was always an exhausting task. Having virtually no friction meant each handhold tested Fox's grip to the limit, and while he didn't have to carry any weight, per se, the tendrils always proved to resist his attempts to maneuver. Sometimes, it wasn't even physical resistance that got in the way.
As he weaved through the base of dozens of affectionate feelers, every single one within reach would invariably touch him. Prod him. Stroke him. Grope him. As he had no way of preventing it, Fox simply didn't pay it any mind, instead doing as he always did as he crawled: he calculated.
The distance I have to crawl is half the sphere's circumfere--
A particularly fond tentacle quickly discovered a way to derail Fox's train of thought and snatch the air out of his lungs, as it hooked under the base of his tail, weaved between his toned cheeks, around his sac, and nestled firmly against his twitching erection. Fox bit his lower lip as he decided to halt his climb in hopes that the creature would at last decide to bring him to climax.
But the tentacle had no intention of drawing an orgasm out of the fox, instead, rapidly retreating along its path, lifting his tail, and giving him a solid, light smack on the rump like others had done countless times before. His body had satisfied the tendril's curiosity and he was free to go.
With a petulant whine, Fox continued, forcing himself between the stalwart roots and thick, slick shafts until his grip weakened beyond use, leaving him to resort to merely hooking his arms around a tentacle before prying himself forward.
The circumference of a twenty-meter circle is 20?, which is 62.8 meters, Fox processed, driving both arms forward and looping them back in a motion resembling a butterfly stroke. Half that is... it's... Fox gasped as another lucky feeler nudged against his perineum with enough force to help him forward.
Half of that distance is 31.4 meters. That's obvious. Fox's eyes nearly rolled back in relief as he finished the calculation. Just over 31 meters, and must have crossed at least two thirds of that distance already.
Taking a short breather to take in his surroundings, Fox paused, righting himself in a kneeling position as a dozen tentacles shrouded over the entire length of his legs to hold him to the wall. He looked forward and found a sight that disturbed him.
He wasn't even halfway there.
At the halfway point, the Arwing would have sat at a ninety-degree angle from the fox, but the distance suggested at least one-hundred degrees.
"Oh, come on," Fox groaned before settling back down to continue his crawl. The moment his hands had squeezed between a notably thick patch of feelers and into the moist base, he felt something lever its way about his ribcage, wrapping over his left shoulder and under his right arm, then over his right shoulder and under his left arm, before slamming his upper body downward. In perfect synchronization, another feeler hooked around his abs and hips, pulling upward, forcing his rump into an exposed arch while his legs remained thoroughly restrained as before.
Lacking the strength or preparedness to react beyond a startled yelp, Fox's snout, then his vision was buried in the writhing patch of tentacles that still withheld his hands. Aside from that, there was no foreplay, no more buildup. Instead, came a straight, quick skewer.
The tendril rocketed into him with all the care and caution of a car crash. Instantly, a forearm's length of tentacle had found its way inside Fox's rectum, making the pilot cry out in muffled surprise. Using the same, reckless, frantic speed, the tendril pumped in and out, only stabbing into the fox's insides three times before pausing, twisting, and then pulling free with a familiar slurp.
It had happened in less than five seconds. To Fox, it seemed to have finished before it even began. Before he could even blink, the restraining tentacles had seemingly vanished, leaving the vulpine wondering whether it had happened at all.
Face still pressed into the wall, Fox suppressed his frustration, shame and confusion once more and pressed down with both hands, straining against the material's suction-like properties until his head came free with a near-comical pop, and once his head came free, he looked up, and once he saw what was practically on top of him, he began to deeply question his sanity.
His ship was now within arm's reach.
The shock made him stumble and scurry back until he met a wall of feelers; they had to know it was where he wanted to go, but the Arwing couldn't have just teleported directly in front of him.
As Fox grit his teeth and started to climb aboard his destroyed ship, he understood.
The creepy son of a bitch just moved it.
It was obvious. Within the first few seconds of their first encounter, the ship had broken apart like a sugar cube in water. Obviously, the creature was able to move objects around inside its shell.
He vaulted over the fuselage with a gasp, not from physical exertion but from the violation of a tentacle pulling him up onto his ship with a tug on his tail. The motion made him overshoot, forcing him to grab onto the lip of the polygonal basin that was once the cockpit. Almost like a handstand, Fox edged his way around the rim until he found a small cloth pouch, tethered to a seat buried under lumpy, light-red meat. Pulling his hands away and allowing himself to float, he reached down and took the pouch, emptying it and taking one of his remaining three nourishots.
With his Arwing's systems fried, telling time was impossible. Instead, Fox had to make due by how many times he felt the need for another shot. Usually, with a full day's work, a single shot could sustain him, but in his recent incarceration, Fox hadn't really exerted himself physically - by conventional means -- meaning that, in all likelihood, he didn't need to consume as much to sustain himself.
I've been in here for well over three days, Fox reasoned, scoffing in disbelief as he prepped the needle and drove it into his thigh. As the shot went to work, Fox felt the clear, thick lubricant that soaked his body slowly, yet surely start to fall away by some invisible force, not at all unlike magnetism.
An electromagnetic field would explain the interference on ROB's sensors...
While the slime progressively parted from Fox's fur, leaving his body perfectly dry, the residue on the palms of his hands proved troublesome, as that combined with the weakness of his grip led to the vibrating needle in his hand shaking free. Nearly empty, the nourishot came, loose spraying into the air with a few errant drops landing on Fox's leg and groin.
"Dammit," Fox whispered, staring at the clear serum suspended directly in front of his face. Luckily for him, the formula showed almost identical efficiency if swallowed, so with little effort, he snatched the liquid with his tongue, letting none go to waste.
That still left a small mess on his legs, which he solved in the same manner. After securing his arms around the back of his thighs, Fox tucked forward and gently placed his open maw against his upper thigh, sloppily lapping at the uppermost area of his quadriceps before his erection reared its lovely head, jabbing into his cheek, craving attention.
It was then that Fox noticed a sizable glob of nourishing serum at the base of his own cock, rolling up and beading on the underside of his urethral bulge. Without even considering the creature's potential retaliation at his action, Fox angled his chin over his member, pinning it to his front as he flicked his tongue over its length in true canine fashion, leaving it spotless.
After giving the region another once-over, he sat back up, finding something he wished he hadn't seen.
Every single tentacle in the sphere was pointing directly at him. Looking. Staring. Watching.
"What're you looking at?" Fox asked. The instant he finished his sentence, he was dragged off of his ship by the force of a half-dozen tendrils and planted on the wall by his shoulders. The purpose for the odd position was made clear when he felt the tentacles forcefully grab his knees and fixed them in place above his head. His flesh twitched, just barely gracing the edge of his lips with every explicit throb.
Fox took the invitation wholeheartedly, maw engulfing his rigid length with no trouble whatsoever. Regardless of motivation, the beast was at last allowing Fox to please himself, to be free of his horrible pressure. The motion was entirely effortless, with Fox's nose bumping into his own scrotum with enough force to make an audible clap from the collision. He had experience. Though he would never admit it, with his exemplary flexibility, the vulpine had indeed given into temptation numerous times during previous long exploits in space and pleasured himself with his mouth.
As he eagerly nibbled and sucked on his own cock, Fox felt a feeler calmly slide down his back, over his inverted posterior before settling just over his convulsing anus, directly in Fox's field of view. The creature had never allowed him to observe his own penetration, but tradition was hastily broken as the tendril bent downward and dived into Fox's bowels, eliciting an excited, stifled yip from the pilot.
They immediately settled into an energetic, profound rhythm as the mounting tension in Fox's muscles led him to hammer his hips back and forth, humping frantically into his own mouth as the tentacle pumped deeper and deeper. Another tendril found its own way to have fun, looping around Fox's abs before poising itself above his robust, clenching buttocks. It struck down against his rump with every other thrust, not out of punishment, but more like priming a wild beast to work faster as the newly-feral-minded Fox went about defiling himself in more ways than the creature itself could ever hope to accomplish.
Precum trickled into the vulpine's mouth, which was promptly swallowed down as the enslaved fox watched his own sphincter, stretched wide and repeatedly impaled around its loving invader. Before long, he found himself rapidly approaching the climax he longed for so desperately, and as he felt the penetrator direct a prolonged series of shorter thrusts directly at the vulpine's prostate. That's exactly what he expected. It was what he demanded.
But there was none. No relief. Instead, the tentacle kept its unseemly pressure against the fox's weak point. All at once, it triggered and smothered the one thing Fox every truly wanted, and as he realized and recognized the new depths of his torment, he tried his best to achieve orgasm regardless. He sucked harder. Licked longer, but with no result.
His arms were first to be restrained, then his neck. Soon, his hips and each ankle found a tendril that held them still. As the creature straightened him out, the penetrator held fast, pressing continually on the one spot that gave Fox his greatest pleasure and pain.
"Nooo... Please..." He begged, unheard by a single soul in existence. Fox received no mercy as he felt his body shift, carried by the creature's tendrils, and perched on top of the fuselage of his broken ship and broken hopes. Each limb was tugged back, stretching him over the hood of his Arwing, leaving his rigid length floating pointlessly in the air, receiving nothing that the fox truly needed, and so it stayed.
Fox fell asleep hours later, having still not achieved climax.
In the next indeterminate stretch, a pattern formed, inspired by the most paralyzing defeat Fox had suffered in his life. During his last colossal rape, both Fox and his captor had learned something new about the vulpine's lithe, submissive body, and in some way it seemed the creature had learned far more than Fox had. Perhaps it had experimented on him during his time unconscious, or maybe it simply understood somehow, but once Fox woke up, he quickly realized that the creature had his body under its complete control.
As naturally as breathing, even the contraction of Fox's muscles and the pleasure coursing through his shaking limbs seemed to be not a reaction, but an intended result, like his body was being played, manipulated as a crude, lustful instrument.
For longer than Fox could even comprehend, he was used with greater, more radical fervor than ever before. He no longer found himself suspended in the center of the sphere, instead, he was always handled on the walls or across the hood of his Arwing. Whenever the fox wasn't suffering direct abuse, he found himself stuck to the membranous surface of his fighter, planted on his back and limbs held wide, not an iota of privacy allowed to him. When in this state, his treatment varied greatly, from either a half-dozen feelers eagerly prodding, groping, and licking his outsides and insides, to a single, tranquil tendril settled inside his rectum with the casual confidence of a handshake.
Rarely did a moment pass where there wasn't a tentacle inside of Fox in some way, and that was only the passive treatment. When the creature decided to pick him up and dole out unadulterated, cruel pleasure... it made the lowest of wild beasts appear dignified.
The rutting, the spanking, the screams that sounded like they now emanated from the round, red walls, rather than his own lustful maw, all worked flawlessly to place and to keep Fox in a desperate frenzy. That wasn't even the worst part.
Fox wanted to enjoy it. He had just realized that his dignity had died long ago. During his time alone and helpless, Fox had begged for his life. He had begged for his freedom, and in the end, he had begged for pleasure. He begged to be bred. Fox wanted to be a slave to this creature's perversion and superiority. If only it would allow him a minute to order his thoughts so that the pilot could simply allow himself to give in, he would willingly become a toy and enjoy it.
Given the history of his species, it would certainly be fitting.
Instead, he was prodded constantly toward unreachable satisfaction like a drowning man unable to reach the surface of his watery soon-to-be grave.
Not one of these thoughts entered Fox's consciousness. They existed. They influenced his actions, but the vulpine had no room in his mind to grant shape and purpose to the unidentifiable maelstrom in his mind.
The creature had violated and continued to violate him to the point that Fox merely bucked and writhed in countless caresses and defilements, desperately hoping for a chance to cum.
He lay bent over an elevated pedestal made of none other than an untold number of shifting, sliding feelers, whimpering and cringing as he was spit roasted like the captured game he had become, fucked at both ends, each with equal zeal and clumsiness.
Up to that point, the creature had shown excessive amounts of dexterity and finesse when handling its foxy little toy, unlike the current, sloppy, almost drunken fucking it was currently delivering. Perhaps it had grown tired. Either that, or it had simply realized that it no longer needed to focus on keeping the mewling, rutting fox in line. As the once-dignified pilot eagerly, instinctively rammed his own cock into the squirming plinth of tentacles, he stimulated himself to the point of every thrust causing every muscle in his body to spasm and clench with near-cramping intensity.
Fox busily tried to lap at the tentacle in his mouth. The motion lent the appearance of attempting to lick something that simply wasn't there. The orally-invasive feeler rarely fucked Fox's mouth in the most straightforward sense. Often, it'd dart under his tongue, the inside his cheek, outside clamped, seething teeth, and whenever the tendril in his ass made a deeper thrust than anticipated, it would lunge itself firmly into Fox's throat, stifling any moan or whine that may have been otherwise provoked by the action.
With a new, unobtainable climax desperately approaching, Fox rapidly pounded his hips in the moist, slick wall to which he was held, regardless of whether or not he knew he would find the release he truly wanted.
If Fox had been in a proper state of mind to predict anything at all, the denial of his pleasure would have been insultingly predictable. A tentacle stoically swung around his hips and pulled the fox tight against the pedestal. With only a few more thrusts, Fox would have been satisfied.
Instead, every single one of his limbs - arms, legs, and tail - were systematically restrained, with an additional tentacle hooking under his groin and angling it upward, lifting his rump to be even more easily penetrated.
As if giving a long, thorough goodbye, the intimate invader pressed itself deeper with equally torturous slowness and contemptuous ease.
It never paused, sped up, or slowed down, only pushing deeper into Fox's bowels with nothing to stop it, and every reason to take its time.
The stimulation and more so the message of it all made Fox moan genuinely from his own blissful shame, not even noticing that his own maw was free of its clumsy feeler.
Every time it penetrated Fox in such a way, the creature would always push Fox's limits. Last time, it had pushed so ludicrously deep as to meet his hepatic flexure, and no doubt it intended to delve even further.
And then it stopped. Fox had no idea why, but it obviously wasn't close to its goal. The tip shoved and rushed forward, but stopped, held back by some invisible force. Without missing a beat, Fox felt his body lift, pulled upward and back, impaling him further on the tentacle.
He didn't realize until he found himself at the base of the shaft. The penetrator was too short, only managing to reach half the length the creature had reached before, though that did nothing to stop the attempt to further tame McCloud.
With a secure grip on his arms, legs, and chest, the creature jerked him upward before slamming him down to the base of the invasive tentacle, his sphincter widening severely around the flared base that flattened out to seamlessly mesh with the rest of the wall.
Up and down, Fox slid from tip to base like some living sex toy, and unlike his previous behavior, he made the overwhelming sensation very well-known. As he repeatedly transitioned from barely penetrated to fully penetrated, he screamed. He yelped and moaned because he knew it must have been what the creature wanted. If he did what the creature wanted, it might be nicer to him.
In the end, he received nothing but a brutal fucking, yet again.
As always, just a moment too soon, Fox felt the creature pull him off of the treacherous length, the vulpine begging and whimpering as he went before he was placed back down on top of his membrane-coated Arwing.
The tissue remained unbreakable. As if on a whim, it always served as an adhesive to keep the fox in place whenever he wasn't being used to sate any particular desire.
Man... Fox thought, words finally coming back to him. He closed his eyes, stuck on his back and panting against a shortness of breath that made his lungs ache. Without bothering to look, he felt another tentacle slither its way over his shoulder and across his chest to fondle his body like countless others had before in ways he couldn't possibly hope to count. This really _sucks..._
No sooner did he think those very words before he felt something that utterly surprised him. The tentacle had done something he had never felt before.
It kissed him.
At the base of his abdomen, just short of the base of his cock, an entirely new tentacle had planted its tip against Fox's body and began... sucking. It looked nothing like the other two types of tendrils. Instead of conical shape or a bulb tip, the thickness of this new tentacle appeared completely uniform along its entire, sizable length.
It was neither red nor fleshing pink. Instead, it stood nearly perfectly clear and translucent. A bright glare formed along its cylindrical curve which implied a glossy, frictionless sheen as the vacuum-like appendage slowly tugged its way up Fox's body, still held fast to his abdominals and pectorals with its impressive suction.
From its tip sprouted scores of miniscule cilia, each with their own eager nature and autonomy not unlike tentacles themselves.
"What the he--!" Fox's inquiry was cut off with a gasp as he felt the suction creep up his neck, over his jaw, and along his cheek before planting itself over his pursed lips.
As soon as he understood what the creature wanted, Fox opened his mouth, letting the strange thing ravage his tongue to its insatiable content. Numerous cilia spread wide inside the submissive fox's maw, some reaching to every corner with most wrapping under the helpless tongue, pinning it in place at the mouth of the tube. Each miniature tendril produced a spark. Not a sensation. Not a sensual caress that inspired a squirm in delight, but an actual electric spark, and with a push and a pull, Fox's tongue was inside the clear tentacle with a tenacity only implying that the creature wanted to milk McCloud of something.
The overbearing procedure made Fox's eyes roll back in his head, his mouth watering, and it appeared that was just what the creature wanted. Every single drop was pulled out of his mouth and along the inside of the clear tube, lubricating the length to the same glossy sheen as the outside.
The tubular tentacle pulled free of Fox's mouth with a pop, whimsically waving back and forth over his nude, stuck form.
"Y-y-you knooow..." Fox tried, over his stammering, shaky voice, to retaliate once more with some degree of wit to his de facto master. "I... never thought a dentist's vacuum could be so erotic! Ha!"
The laugh came out more like a cough which quickly strangled itself and died once the tube planted its mouth on the front of Fox's hip, just to the side of his groin.
Oh... That would feel _amazing sucking me off._
For the next handful of minutes, the tube took its time carefully, just barely depriving Fox of that one ideal. It slid to the side, gently suckling on the length of Fox's twitching flesh; the long, luscious foreplay drove him even further into madness.
Without even waiting for the fox to show any sign of agitation, the clear tendril slipped atop his flesh, then rocketed downward, instantly encapsulating his member and making the vulpine cry out in his sudden, captivating delight.
He couldn't breathe. His back failed to arch against his indissoluble restraint. Fox's mind couldn't comprehend the sensations that ran through him, like he was pinned to the front of a moving train by nothing more than the force of the train's momentum. A momentous wall of euphoria smothered whatever was left of his sense of self in the sheer significance of the otherworldly fellatio which he was receiving.
In a word, the clear tentacle's treatment was "active." As it readily and heartily sucked on Fox's cock, the lively, electric strands sprouting from its tip energetically groped and zapped at his abs, thighs, and groin, each jolt causing his entire body to spasm in kind.
Fox had no idea what to do. Too shocked to make the slightest sound, he felt almost relieved when his body became unstuck and a tendril spiraled around his arms, from his wrists to his elbows, holding him in place, even more so that an exceedingly long tendril found its place comfortably inside of him.
He moaned with each thrust as each thrust pushed him further and further away from the Arwing, back into the center of the sphere where he belonged. Within seconds, Fox could feel his muscles contract and shake on the verge of unfathomable climax. Before he could even beg to find release, he did. With a long, amorous stare, Fox watched as his seed was sucked away inside the clear tube he was forced to fuck.
In appreciation, he darted his head forward and licked the slick, round outside of the tube, wordlessly thanking it for his long-awaited orgasm, but it didn't react, instead, it continued the process and made Fox shriek as it overwhelmed him with pure sensation as it added a pronounced increase in suction before backing down to its original strength, like a "swallow" of sorts.
For the next many minutes, Fox feverishly thanked whatever powers that be that his own vulpine kind was capable of multiple consecutive orgasms, unlike most males of other species. The attribute was put to the test as the clear feeler rocked countless climaxes from the fox's quivering body.
All the while, the invading tentacle torqued and shoved its way deeper with absolutely no protest. Soon, it found itself at Fox's hepatic flexure and easily pushed its way further, around the corner, finally pressing against the end of Fox's bowels.
With his tongue lazily lolling out the side of his muzzle, Fox eagerly tucked himself into a ball, pulling up his legs in hopes of giving the invader a better angle for penetrating the vulpine even deeper, and although he was rewarded for the gesture with a few vigorous thrusts against his cecum, it delved no deeper.
It had mated the fox as deep as was physically possible.
With its fox entirely impaled around its tip, the feeler made its intentions even more well-known as it shuddered, then pulled itself entirely free before slamming back in. At a positively absurd speed, the tentacle rammed back and forth from anus to cecum, expertly snaking through his insides with such little effort, it almost made Fox laugh.
Before, he wasn't allowed to watch. Now, he couldn't look away. Fox stared, slack jawed from both amazement and arousal as his body was expertly used from the waist down. His cock jumped and twitched in a strong, transparent grip, warped in appearance through the clear, round surface of the tube while his round, fuzzy cheeks wobbled and quaked around the farcical penetration.
"Come on..." he chided, goading the creature into further action as he raised his hand and struck his own buttocks to excite it further. "I want..." his voice started boiling over as his body tightened once again. He felt a tendril slather over his rear.
"Do it!"
Just as he came, the tentacle whipped around and struck him on the rump, sending Fox into hysterics as he drowned in the greatest orgasm he had ever felt.
Fox threw his head back as his whole body arched in his rapture, panting and moaning as he felt a clutch of tentacles tug at his ankles, thighs and waist, rotating him in the air.
So you're... gonna restrain me again? Fox thought, the rhetorical question lingering in his mind. That's... f-f-fine.
But the creature wasn't repositioning Fox to put him in a relative position, such as laying him "on his back" or "lifting" his tail. This time was different.
This time, it wanted to show him something.
As the sphere rotated around him, Fox eyes fell upon a patch of strangely short tentacles, and as those tentacles shifted, pulling away from a distinct point, he saw what lay at that distinct point.
A short, stubby, pink column.
Fox's heart jumped in his chest. He had seen that very same pink before.
Just as he grasped what it was, the member-tentacle emerged from its sheath, rocketing forward with enough speed to make Fox gasp in surprise. It halted inches from his face, gently prodded against his lips, then started to work its way downward.
By the time the dry, pink tentacle made its way to Fox's bare thigh, the pilot had a precise idea what it wanted. Perhaps it had taken its time to heal, but one thing was certain: It certainly wished to make up for lost time.
It wormed its way around Fox's body, under, over, and around the restraining, frictionless tentacles, lubing itself up as it nonchalantly, casually slid inside of him.
It had no time for a sense of irony or frustration. This was what it had wanted to do from the very beginning, and now the goal had been accomplished.
Fox moaned as his hips pumped in time with the member-tentacle's expertly-placed thrusts, each one delving the thing deeper and deeper inside. He had no seed left to give, but his captor still harbored every intention of making the fox squeal.
The creature had never been punishing Fox at all. It had simply been... conditioning him, physically and mentally.
Once the member had pressed itself as deep as possible, nestling in the vulpine's cecum, Fox's eyes flew painfully open, like he had discovered a secret that shook his world deep to its core. He felt as if a final puzzle piece had finally fit in place, both figuratively and literally.
His chest rumbled deeply in a meek purr as the member began to vibrate, triggering the retreat of most of the other tendrils as it had before. He did more than simply not resist as his ankles were pulled over his head and his arms angled between and under his knees, then pulled wide. He held fast, transfixed at the sight of his own anus stretched wide around the member which had wanted everything and eventually had taken it.
Fox watched as it tried to delve deeper, battering against the one-way door that simply could not give, before realizing it must have reached its destination. It owned him now, and as Fox's eyes wandered down the floating, looping trail of the shaft, he found the base again and saw what the creature ultimately had in mind.
An otherworldly bulged formed within the base of the member-tentacle, slowly sprouting from the wall before racing toward McCloud at an unsettling speed.
The member-tentacle shuddered and shook like a thing possessed as its intended payload made its way to the helpless fox's waiting bum.
"No..." Fox said, shaking his head. He started to resist again, pulling at his restraints, which proved to be a completely fruitless endeavor, even as they held his limbs, yet were completely lax, granting him a free range of motion. He floated in zero-gravity. Even if there were nothing restraining him at that point, he couldn't escape. He couldn't push off of anything, and he obviously couldn't pull out the penetrator with his own strength alone.
The creature only held him in its clutches because it wanted to feel its toy try to escape, then fail.
"No. No, no, no, no, no, no..." Fox's voice grew louder as the member's seed grew closer, developing into full-on shouting as it pressed against his tightening sphincter. He straightened his body, looking upward and refusing to watch as the bulge prepared to press through.
In a cruel reversal, a tendril looped around Fox's neck and curled him back into a ball, pressing his snout firmly against his own groin to observe and bear witness to the final step in the creature's plan.
It's over.
Fox twitched and jerked in the creature's grip as if he were suffocating, grinding his teeth together as his body gave under the pressure and the bulged worked its way through his body. He could hear it squirming in his bowels, expertly following every turn in stride until it reached the end.
Total silence.
As the bulb on the end of the member-tentacle opened and put its payload in place, there was a sudden force as Fox felt something solid and dense placed deep inside him. Considering the sudden force and blunt physicality of the motion, it would have been fitting to hear an obscene thunk as... _something _plopped down inside him, but there was no sound.
Total silence.
Once the tentacle had put Fox in his place yet again, it continued thrusting into him, forceful enough to potentially break the mysterious capsule it had planted inside of him, but it was hardly finished.
Fox lost all understanding of time as the creature bred him again and again, using his body to whatever sick end it desired. However, in the end, both had won. Fox had decided. In what may very well be his last moments, he would allow himself to enjoy every second of his defilement. Even as his body recuperated, the tentacle didn't slow its pace, yet Fox felt more than willing to give in.
He had no idea what was inserted into his body, but Fox refused to resist as the process repeated with no end. Both master and pet had reached the desired center of dominance and complacency, push and pull.
Eventually, just as Fox reached that same realization, a wave of light crashed through the wall from outside the creature, washing over the strange substance of the sphere and evoking a translucent glow. The brightness was greatly subdued by the thickness of the creature's mass, but Fox nearly felt blinded regardless.
Fox had been surprised so soundly by the sudden light, he briefly failed to take notice of a radical shift in force followed by his restraining tentacles holding him slightly tighter; the sphere rolled until member-tentacle's base stood directly above McCloud, and if the other, scant tendrils let go, he would fall... down.
Gravity...?
A terrible, ugly, violent sound tore through empty, stale air as a long, bright gash of light bore inward from somewhere below, forcing Fox to shut his eyes and try to bring a hand up to shield his face from the bright break in the wall, only to feel his restraints pull him short.
What followed formed a perfect chain reaction. A series of actions with their respective intentions entirely contrary to their outcomes.
The creature pulled Fox away from the breach, with the vulpine tucking into a ball like he had before he was sucked out of the Arwing. The sudden action, for the very first time, caused him to break free from the tendrils' grip. Apparently, the tentacles lacked the strength to easily hold the fox against gravitational pull. The momentum of being pulled away forced Fox to collide with the side of the sphere before falling down and sliding down into the basin. His inertia carried him past the nadir of the sphere, slipping between the bases of hundreds of tentacles as he sped toward the very breach he had hoped to avoid. The tendrils tried to grab him. Most failed, and those that succeeded were too few to so much as divert Fox's course, and with the force and speed of near-total free-fall, Fox catapulted out into the light.
His heart rushed with the sensation of shooting through empty air. There was no vacuum. He wasn't in space, and judging by the way he flew in a steady arc without hitting anything, he could sense that was in a very large room, and eventually, he would hit the floor.
Fox's mind raced, trying to imagine a way to stick his landing, but just milliseconds after he reached the apex of his flight, something tugged taught around his ankles.
Apparently, he hadn't broken completely free of the creatures grip.
With a confused, startled yelp, Fox whipped around and swung back the way he had come, rapidly descending as the creature tried to take him back. All the while, Fox still couldn't bring himself to open his eyes, the lights were so bright, yet he still anticipated crashing into the floor at any moment. In preparation, he brought up his arms, crossing them over his eyes.
His body struck against metal plating with enough force to snap the air out of his lungs, landing squarely on his back as the tendrils continued to pull him. Eventually, he slid under the body of the creature that had, up until that point, held him inside its spherical core in unbreakable captivity. The complete, heavy shadow softened the pain in Fox's eyes, allowing him to finally try to take in his surroundings.
Through blurry vision and even blurrier consciousness, Fox saw a large, frantic, red spheroid quake above him. It clung to the ceiling like moisture and wobbled like it was held together by nothing more than surface tension, yet there was no doubt that it would hold together. As Fox looked down at the thing above him, he realized that he laid eyes upon the sturdiest, strongest thing he had ever seen.
Fox hung back with only his head and shoulders occasionally touching the floor as his body lazily rotated and bobbed under the gutted creature. It didn't even seem wounded, which made sense. If it could take an Arwing's laser cannon in stride, it could easily handle being cut open by any blade.
Slowly, Fox noticed that, in all the commotion of his sudden removal from the creature's center, the member-tentacle still remained firmly planted inside him, thrusting much more gently, but still thrusting nonetheless. The clear, hollow tentacle must lost its grip along with most of the other tendrils, with only two regular feelers remaining, still confidently coiling around Fox's spread legs, from his ankles to his hips, prodding at his rump and pushing his cheeks together. Each forward caress triggered an arched back and a shaky moan.
In less than a minute, the few remaining tentacles gently placed Fox down against the cold, metal deck, lacking the strength to pull him back up into the core. With a shuddering gasp, Fox spread his body on the new, strange, flat surface, member still inside, barely managing an inch-long thrust with each beat of his heart.
He felt tormented again with the tendril slowly, weakly violating him while the cold metal against his body shocked and cruelly hindered his flesh's ability to find pleasure again.
"Pleeeeaaase...." Fox shuddered, too quietly for even his own ears to hear.
Nevertheless, the very moment he even thought about his shaking, pathetic need, a massive, muscular arms scooped under his body and pulled Fox up into a kneeling position, squatting directly over his penetrator. A vicious, clawed left hand lewdly pressed its palm against Fox's abs, groping at his musculature while its twin rapidly, almost violently snapped onto the fox's rigid, twitching cock, drawing a slightly sharper breath from the near-comatose vulpine.
The right hand jerked back and forth, slapping against Fox's hips as they instinctively hammered back against it, swiftly bringing Fox to yet another climax.
Fox convulsed in his captor's arms, tossing his head back as the hand pointed his flesh downward, spilling the vulpine's seed onto the ground, and with a swift boot to his back, McCloud fell forward, slipping into a spot of his own cum.
People were talking. Actual living beings. Fox had no idea how many, and couldn't distinguish a word, but he had a feeling that he was vastly outnumbered and surrounded.
"Are you gonna take tuuuurns...?" he groaned, buttocks clamping together at the thought.
Someone spoke again, then Fox felt a familiar boot plant itself on his rump, warping the cheek around the rough rubber sole as he felt what was possibly two hands grab onto the member-tentacle.
His new captor tugged, eliciting a scream from the fox. The member-tentacle didn't budge. It showed no potential of giving or breaking whatsoever, but that didn't stop him from standing of Fox's rump and yanking upward, repeatedly to no avail.
Someone rapidly pushed him away, spitting a few feverish, venomous words Fox still couldn't understand. It didn't sound like a language. Just empty, shapeless echoing.
A slimmer, gentler hand pried itself under Fox's hip and carefully rolled him over. The pilot practically flopped onto his back, eyes closed and barely panting. Almost clinically, the spindly hand grabbed onto the fox's erect flesh and pulled it downward, off of his abdomen, causing Fox to squirm at the touch. More words ensued, and he felt two massive hands press down on his shoulders and hold the vulpine in place.
An uncomfortable heat shone down on Fox's abdomen. The one with the calmer touch was holding some kind of device over Fox's waist like a massive spotlight. He had no idea what they were analyzing, but before Fox could form a hypothesis, the warmth was gone, and yet the, big, strong hands remained. Soon, Fox sensed some weight shift above him, and a huge, warm body stepped and straddled, kneeling over Fox's prone form.
Immediately, he felt slender, deft hands rake up the back of his legs, tucking them up until his ankles nearly touched his own rump. Fox kept his feet in place as if he was ordered to do so, holding fast, even as some of those same slim fingers eased their way inside of him, around and alongside the penetrating tendril. The fox's entire body tensed, slowly arcing in response to the additional penetration. He felt a loud moan rise in his chest before strangling on a startled yelp.
A long, strong, reptilian tongue darted against Fox's groin, jabbing at his scrotum as the hands slowly worked the tendril out of him. It was a quick, nervous move, like a child breaking a rule when no one was looking, just for the sake of breaking that rule. Fox jerked in place from the single additional violation, easily held in place by the massive creature on top of him.
The large captor lowered himself, sitting on Fox's torso, digging the rough fabric of his trousers into the fox's naked fur, and with a rough twist, grabbed onto the scruff of Fox's neck with one hand, pulling the vulpine's upper body halfway into a sitting position.
A hot breath washed over Fox's face, and with enough force to make him yip in surprise, the captor gave a long, strong lick over the tip of Fox's snout.
Fox didn't think. He didn't take anything into account whatsoever. He simply opened his own maw and licked at his captor's lapping tongue like a desperate drink of water, and received nothing less in return.
They lapped at each other's tongues at an unlike rhythm but with like zeal. The stimulation made Fox more submissive, more compliant as the member-tentacle was pulled, pried out from deep within him. He allowed himself to be taken, just like before, as he became lost in a phantasmagoria of shapeless faces, faceless voices, and voiceless hands.
As the tendril's retraction hastened, the captor's ravenous, acrimonious maw pushed forward, clamping around Fox's mouth and probing forward with a lewd lick against the vulpine's teeth.
"Uh--ghuh!" Fox instantly let the rogue tongue in, pinning his own tongue down as he felt his mouth ravaged to the pounding drum of an enthralled fox's heart.
I get it.
Even as the member-tentacle began to pull free. Even as the remarkable, intestinal empty feeling set in, Fox focused on the furious kiss that threatened to consume him.
Just some mercs, hoping to take the famous Fox McCloud down a peg. Who wouldn't?
Fox moaned, and as the tentacle popped free, he didn't stop moaning. A brusque, clawed thumb brushed along the side of Fox's face, pinning his twitching ear down as the captor caressed his captive.
Go ahead. Have all the fun you can, Fox thought as he panted in a powerful grip. He heard more talking--still having great trouble processing outside stimulate--, the deep kiss stopped. Two huge claws clamped around Fox's waist and hoisted his body against the broad, muscled chest of his new master. Definitely male. He wore trousers, but no shirt, and as a long, muscled arm swooped under Fox's rump to hold him in place, the vulpine felt a sizeable, firm length prod through the coarse, tough cloth, into his own similarly enthusiastic groin.
When I get my strength back... Fox reflexively ducked his head under the virile jaw of the man carrying him, his weight bobbing into the hand clamped around his right cheek. His shock and confusion finally started to wear off as he managed to differentiate sound again. He heard an elevator door open, felt his captor and his captor's assistant enter, then heard the door shut again.
They were taking him deeper.
...I'm gonna make you wish you've never been born.
As the elevator slowly lurched upward, Fox felt his mind clear further. While his eyes were still blinded and shocked shut by the bright lights, he could finally start to make out words.
"... a few mo_re t_est_s on _Mc_Cl_ou_d..." A voice's shape snapped into place, though Fox's comprehension faded in and out. "... _dr_op _off..."
"Yeah. The sooner, the better." The one holding Fox made perfect sense, though the vulpine felt the words rumble into his own chest more than simply hearing them. Fox felt a hand push his head back, forcing his face up into the lights in the elevator ceiling.
"Leon," the captor began to ask. "How long has our friend here been in near-total darkness?"
"Oh, shit. You're right." The smooth, cold voice echoed within the tiny chamber, far calmer than the words themselves implied. A comlink buzzed and clicked as a tall, gangly chameleon pressed a button in the wall. "Caruso. Kill the lights. All of them."
There was a pause. Leon almost spoke up again before a disgruntled, yet still sleazy voice crackled over the speaker.
"Hmph... fine."
Instantly, the lights flickered out, plunging the three into the dark, but the dark wasn't complete. A soft, blue light still gently shone through Fox's eyelids at the perfect intensity to let Fox see, but not feel pain.
However, when he opened his eyes, he immediately wished he handn't.
A tall, broad lupine held McCloud like a lowly pet. A glowing, blue, artificial left eye glared into his soul and brazen smirk on the mercenary's maw spoke volumes.
"Heh," Wolf O'Donnell chuckled, giving his fox a solid grope and lick. "Finally awake, pup?"
Fox gasped, tucking his arms into his chest and pushing outward, breaking out of Wolf's grip and falling to the floor. Immediately, the lupine was on top of him, forcing his hips between Fox's legs and pinning Fox's wrists to the elevator wall. Wolf was obscenely strong and skilled up close; Fox would never stand a chance in a fair fight, fully rested, let alone exhausted and pinned.
Fox turned his face away, whining in his own wretched embarrassment before Wolf grabbed hold of his snout with a finger and thumb, forcing him to look eyes-to-eye.
"What's wrong, McCloud?" he asked, noses barely touching. "Feeling a little bashful?"
A long, sloppy lick from collarbone to chin forced a sharp, high-pitched groan from Fox as he arched his back and kicked out with his legs, trying to escape. He stopped struggling once Wolf's hand came away from his face and clapped down back onto his rump.
"Well, let me tell you something," Wolf explained, nibbling at Fox's neck as he went. "I just saw more of your own naked body than you ever will, and believe you me." His voice derailed into bitter, hysteric, enthralled, overjoyed laughter as his hand trailed between Fox's legs, groping at his buttocks before fondling his delicate organs. "You look good..."
Fox astounded himself by how much he actively didn't resist. Once Wolf had pinned him, he had simply accepted every gesture of dominance and perversion the lupine had to offer. O'Donnell went in for another kiss, and Fox accepted, taking Wolf's tongue into his mouth again as his wrists remained in an unbreakable grip above his head.
He felt. Caressed. Groped at Fox's body with one hand as he alternated between biting down on Fox's jaw and whispering things in his ear.
"I'm gonna fuck you harder than any woman I've ever had. So hard, you'll feel it the rest of your _life..."_
The elevator continued its torturously slow ascent for what had to have been minutes. They just had to be. In that time, Fox tried to fight against his own hated, surging sense of arousal that spiked through him. His flesh had become flaccid a while ago and effortlessly stayed that way, not out of lack of excitement, but as if he had no permission, no right to have control over his natural bodily habits. As Wolf ground their hips together Fox's adrenaline crested again, overloading his senses with pure sensual desire and causing his vision to fade.
Wolf chuckled again, pulling away slightly and holding himself over McCloud in a pushup-like position. "I think he's blacking out."
"And now that you've had your fun, you need to back off," Leon finally commented after a long, awkward silence of watching his leader and employer molest his one greatest foe. The lizard leaned back against the elevator wall, arms crossed and eyes rolled in exasperation. "We have no idea what McCloud's direct, prolonged exposure to the meta-symbiote may have caused. We'll have to disinfect you, as well. Remember the actual assignment."
"Oh. I'll _gladly _shower with him," Wolf suggested, obviously taking great pleasure in simply visualizing the idea. "Besides," With a grunt, he lifted Fox back into his original position, except now held by his genitals against Wolf's chest before being given a solid slap on the ass. Fox heard one last thing before succumbing. Before passing out. Before giving in.
"We're gonna have fun with this thing."
_ To Be Continued... _
For the next installment, I want some reader contribution! What kind of equipment is Wolf packing? We're gonna see a LOT of it. Is it canine or human-style? Will Fox get knotted or... NOT-ed...? (Sorry)
Let me know in the comments or a private message! One vote per user, though. Also, let me know if you have an aversion to one or the other. I'm not going to please seventy-five percent of my audience if that means putting off the other twenty-five, so I'm gonna try to put out the events of the next chapter in a way that makes everyone as non-mad as possible.
[Also, don't worry about what Wolf says at the end of this chapter. It's gonna happen. Wolfie's gonna get enough fox-booty to last him a lifetime and THEN some]
Update: VOTING CLOSED. Knot wins by an absurd landslide. I can't promise when it will occur, but the legitimate third installment WILL happen.