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Ultimate Furry Crossover: An Adult Choose Your Own Adventure

Entry 11

By Gideon Kalve Jarvis

Vote Tallies

*Ship

Reaction scene? Y/N – Universal Yes, with more desired (but saved for later)

*Casinos

Renamon pole dance? Y/N – why did I even ask?

Sexy repairs Y/N – Will be included

The Barn – 1

Fat Cat’s Casino – 1

Jabba’s Palace – 3

The Last Stop – 1

The Mouse Trap – 3

The Pyramid – 5 – the winner

Treasure Island – 1

Immediate Party Addition Votes:

Foxy the Fox Pirate – 2

Felicia – 5 – Will be added shortly, no further votes needed

Gadget Hackwrench, Tammy Squirrel, Foxglove – 1

*Rescue Party

Direct method – 10

Stealth – 4

Bluff – 2

Save Amelia? Y/N – 11/4

-If No wins, scene of her raped and roasted? Y/N – 1/3

Take prisoners? Y/N – 5/5 - Will flip a coin for each defeated named opponent to see if they are taken prisoner – heads they escape, tails we claim their tail

Asriel from Undertale - http://undertale.wikia.com/wiki/Asriel\_Dreemurr - will be included

Additional Requests/Votes

Should characters become dynamic/level up? Y/N – 6/0 (10 votes either way decides it)

Characters (5 votes for new character additions):

Kaa – 3

Lt. M’Ress – 4

Flamedramon – 2

Captain Claw – 1

Articuno – 1 (mythic encounter)

HK-47 (Star Wars KOTOR) – 3

Sam & Max (they fit better together) - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sam\_%26\_Max – 2

Goris the Deathclaw – 1

Naga the White Serpent - http://kanzaka.wikia.com/wiki/Naga\_the\_Serpent - 1

Ursula - http://disney.wikia.com/wiki/Ursula – 1

Anna Puma and Uni Puma - http://www.absoluteanime.com/tank\_police/sisters.htm - 1

Scenes (7 votes for most to happen):

The Next Villain Scene (10 votes to take place) – 2

Mythological Encounter (requires 10 votes, please suggest entity) – 7

Nudity becomes more common among the crew – 6

Master Tigress demands a rematch with Jon Talbain – 2

Master Tigress/Renamon interaction – 1

Jon Talbain takes charge as Alpha male – 3

Master Tigress/Okami pairing – 2

Boss, the charr engineer, becomes a voyeur with Riva – 2

Krystal starts training someone in her mental arts (suggestions pending) – 1

Rocket Raccoon goes Chippendale – 1

Author Notes

Something I mentioned in previous responses to reader comments bears mentioning here, in the Author Notes, as an official ruling. The ruling in question is: if you like a character, and want that character to be included in the present active character lineup, you are allowed to vote for said character once per entry, even if you have already voted for the character in question in prior entries, until a total tally of 5 votes is reached. At that point, the character you wanted to see will be included.

This rule is instituted so that people can get to have their favorites from various series, shows, and games played out in the story, in the hopes of satisfying more readers, even those with more exotic or unusual tastes. If more people want to see a given character, then the character will be introduced more quickly.

Bear in mind, however, that I reserve the right to deny any character from appearing on the list of possible characters in the first place. If I do not make use of this right (and I will try not to do so), then a character will be available for voting, and potential inclusion.

Incidentally, should I bother continuing to offer the prisoners option in fights? I only figured readers might like to see some of their opponents in sex scenes, but so far the vote has never really won…except once, in a failed attempt to capture Zeke after the first fight at the ship.

Finally, some information I found on Princess Ariel: http://thundarr.wikia.com/wiki/Princess\_Ariel

UFC Entry 11

“Keep moving,” growled Samus, her eyes glinting steel as she gave Stallion a hard shove, keeping him well ahead of the others. The red-maned horseman had been a source of constant trouble since they’d left the temple, trying constantly to ogle the girls, and even occasionally Big Macintosh. He’d have done a lot more, except Samus tied his wrists behind him rather than in front, and made sure to keep a close eye on the lecherous brute.

Zeke, for his part, just kept quiet near the middle of the group, though nobody really got too close to him. There was something inherently dangerous about the rangy black wolf, and it made everyone instinctively nervous around him. He felt like a predator, and nobody wanted to be too close.

Meanwhile, there was Gilda. At the rear of the party, she had a look of odd confusion on her face as Rainbow Dash walked next to her, holding one end of the rope leash around the griffon’s neck. The rainbow-tressed pony and griffon snuck occasional glances toward each other, but never quite at the same time, their eyes never meeting. There was a heavy tension between the two, the weight of unfinished business and things not said. While the others chatted a little, Rainbow Dash and Gilda said nothing, though not because there was nothing to be said.

“I’m glad you came to save us,” said Spitfire to Samus, her legs still a bit wobbly as she and Applejack worked together to carry the front of the stretcher on which Princess Luna lay, moaning softly as though troubled by bad dreams (Big Macintosh, of course, was a solid presence at the back). “We crash-landed on this planet a while back, maybe…I’d say a week.”

“Definitely a week,” agreed Applejack. “I’m an ol’ farmhand, and we always keep a close eye on the passing of time.”

“Eeyup,” agreed the red stallion.

“Anyway, when we got close to this planet after taking the long way around a pirate ambush, it was like there was...it wasn’t really a forcefield, or a tractor beam, or anything like that. Princess Luna didn’t even think it was magic, at least not magic like she knew it. But whatever went wrong, the next thing we knew, we were being pulled down. I’m a competitive stunt pilot, and Rainbow Dash is about as good, but whatever got us, tore into our ship bad.”

“That’s when the monsters started comin’,” Applejack supplied. “Flying ones to start. Crazy gargoyle-things, and Gilda there,” she motioned toward the rear of the group, “leadin’ ‘em. Then all sorts of other things, comin’ outta the woodwork.”

“Saw a fair number of those,” Samus agreed, her jaw set against the bitter chill of the snowy land around her; if it weren’t for her chozo-enhanced blood, even Samus, with all her training and inherent toughness couldn’t have withstood the cold for long. The ponies were a little better off, thanks to their fur, fur even they weren’t doing so well. Stallion, in his armor, and Zeke, being a wolf, as well as Gilda and the two pegasi, seemed able to handle the cold quite well, however. “This place is just crawling with monsters.”

“The whole planet is,” Spitfire reported grimly. “We didn’t get much time for sensor scans, but what we did pick up made it pretty clear, this entire planet is packed to the cargo bay doors with things that’d eat your eyeballs like jellybeans.”

“The ship came apart in midair,” added Applejack, her face taking on the tension of worry. “There were more of us, but they dropped out in lifepods…includin’ my baby sister. Hadda kinda shove her into one with her friends, or she wouldn’t’ve gone.”

“We’ll find them,” said Samus with measured calm, her blue eyes flicking back and forth across the horizon, then to their surroundings, then to the group, ensuring everything stayed safe and nobody was lost. “We’ll need to get you settled in safely at the ship first, though.”

“That ship there?” asked Rainbow Dash from the rear, her sharp pegasus eyes picking out a dot on the horizon.

Samus gave her ponytail a toss, a pleased smile on her face.

“Home sweet home,” she said softly. “At least for now.”

“Hey, Miss Aran,” Rainbow Dash suddenly piped up, starting toward the front, Gilda in tow. “Don’t you have a gunship of your own? I mean, it’s about as famous as you are. So…where is it?”

“Yeah,” Samus admitted. “It’s not here, obviously,” she said with a light scowl. “I left the gunship out of scanner range of our present junker because I was told it would be a, how did the ambassador who hired me put it?…ah, yes: ‘A poor diplomatic gesture.’” She reached back, tapping the small hard case resting between her shoulder blades, the little package into which her suit had folded for ease of transport until it could be repaired properly. “My suit’s signaled my ship, though. We got way off-course, but it’ll find us…eventually.” Then Samus’ momentarily pleased expression faded. “Eventually.”

“Not fast enough, you think?” Rainbow Dash asked, her expression sympathetic.

“Probably not,” agreed the blonde bounty hunter. “Like Captain Spitfire here said: this place is crawling with enemies. We’re safe right now, I guess, but,” she shook her head, “I don’t think this is any sort of place to get caught with your pants down.”

“Um,” Rainbow Dash’s eyes widened, as did Gilda’s beside her, both winged humanoids looking forward, toward the rapidly-approaching ship. “I think you might be one of the only people that feels that way, Miss Aran.”

Samus blinked, then squinted against the glare of the snow as dawn began to approach. Then she arched an eyebrow incredulously.

“Really?”

-

“Yes, really,” said Master Tigress with a shrug, doing her best to ignore Bambi as the (quite naked) deer prince sat on the edge of the ship’s roof, munching in contentment on a sandwich, while Tails (equally naked) wagged both of his tails, happily eating his own peanut butter and jelly sandwich, giving the ponies and their prisoners below a friendly wave. “The crew decided clothes weren’t really necessary, and,” she sighed, “there you have it. Elh tried to talk them out of it, but Captain Red thought the idea was a good one, so that was the end of the matter. Well,” the tigress let a light smirk cross her broad, furry face, “mostly the end. Elh’s been giving Red an earful, on and off, for almost two hours now.”

“So Miss Melizee’s wearing her clothes, but you and her are the only ones?” Samus asked.

“I didn’t say that,” answered Master Tigress, a light blush on her cheeks. “I only said she’s the only one who’s objected.”

Which means Master Tigress is the only one with a stitch of clothing to her name right now, thought Samus to herself, rolling her eyes heavenward. Perfect.

Not that Samus really minded, as she thought about it, walking toward the rear hatch of the ship. With the forcefields up, the wind and cold of the surrounding land was kept off rather nicely, so the most practical reason to wear clothes wasn’t an issue. The only ones she knew who might try to take unwanted advantage of the situation were Zeke and Stallion, and she had them quite firmly secured, before she’d toss them in the ship’s (admittedly very small) brig. Glancing back, Samus saw that Spitfire had an indignant and disapproving look on her face, but her legs trembled a little as she did her best to stay close behind Samus, a slight damp spot visible on the groin of her spacer’s blues. Rainbow Dash looked terribly embarrassed, but Gilda looked downright smug, her eagle’s eyes openly checking out the azure-furred pegasus’ small, tight backside, clearly visible through her clinging biker shorts, obviously considering the advantages of an all-nude crew; not that she had a stitch on her kitty booty anyway. The Apples, meanwhile, seemed to take the information in stride with minimal reaction, though they did blush a little at the start.

Shrugging as she reached the top of the ramp, Stallion just the pace or two behind her, Samus quite casually pulled off her top, letting the wraparound bit of extra-tight t-shirt drop to the floor of the loading bay, followed soon after by the tight jeans shorts as she bent forward, pretending she couldn’t care less about the not-unattractive male with the big bulge in his pants right behind her, his eyes zeroed on her spacer-smooth pudenda.

“Let’s get these prisoners stowed,” Samus told the others, right to business. “Then we’ll see about getting everyone situated. The quarters are pretty tight, but I think we can find a space for you all.”

*

The lights in the place went way down low, only a few wide-sweeping lasers flicking along the base of the stage. There was a hush that ran through the crowd gathered to drink and to gamble, and all eyes went to that stage, as well as the single rigid pole at its center.

FWOOSH!

Ice crystals sparked and skittered across the stage, bouncing in razor-edged shards that glittered in a rainbow spray in the laser lights. The heat of the lights at the edge of the stage turned them swiftly into a steamy mist that rose, obscuring the view of the stage from all those eager eyes.

Then the lights came on.

There on the stage was a slender yellow-furred figure, most of her body hidden behind the pole, she (at least, she looked feminine) mostly hidden by its width, she was so slender. But soon, before the audience’s collective spellbound gazes, that figure began to fill out, becoming very feminine indeed, divided from sight down the middle by the pole, which kept the tight inner curve of the bushy-tailed female’s bottom out of their sight. She bent forward, her tail flicking almost straight up, and if not for that thrice-cursed pole, every watcher would have gotten the most exquisite view of the gates of Heaven.

Legs pressed tightly together, the gold-furred foxy straightened slowly, her hands drawing a pair of see-through purple lace panties up her long, supple legs. Those same large hands, garbed down to the elbows in purple arm protectors, stroked up through her fur, cupping her breasts, and those on the sides of the stage could see the perfect, upthrust swells of those exquisitely-formed, statuesque mammaries. The nipples were hidden, even from those lucky few, by a ruff of fur around the vixen’s collar, but even as they watched, she was stroking it upward, giving them the barest glimpse…right before she pressed a pair of purple pasties into place, capping each perfectly-formed, gravity-defying breast.

One digitigrade leg curved around, gripping the pole, and Renamon swung fully into view as the music began.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RbEQ3KcOvic

Chocolat just gaped from the little door at the rear of the room, marked “Personnel Only,” that she had open just a crack. Rocket stood right behind her, nodded in full approval as Renamon bucked her hips up against the rigid pole, her dark eyes closing as she lost herself in the music.

“She’s got a lot of spirit for a living program, doesn’t she?” he commented, reaching down to give the pink Pomeranian’s cute buns – clearly visible through her tight-fitting overalls – a playful squeeze, making poor Chocolat give an adorable yelp before she pulled away from the door, getting only a final glimpse of the golden vixen holding onto the pole while she faced away from the audience (including the ones peeking out the service door at the back) and thrust out her perfectly-shaped booty, her tail lashing from side to side in her passion of dance, just barely keeping a full view of her toned, white undertail out of sight.

“Don’t worry,” Said Chica, resting her feathery hands on Chocolat’s shoulders, then gently massaging them, as though to relax the little canine girl. “We’ve got cameras all around the place. We’ll make sure to give you a copy of the show before you leave.”

She bent, and placed a light kiss on Chocolat’s cheek with her supple, flexible beak, making the precious pom blush even more furiously.

“Oh, Chica,” giggled Bonnie lightly, “don’t tease the poor girl. It’s obvious she’s a virgin, after all. We don’t want to break her.”

“I’m not a virgin!” squeaked Chocolat, before slapping both her hands over her mouth, her face turning beet red, the color so bright and fierce it was clearly visible even through her fur.

“Then none ‘a this should be new to you,” said Rocket, kneeling between the reclining Bonnie’s legs and pulling up his toolbox. “Why don’t you get over here, kid, and help me out? This stuff’s always easier with a second hand to assist.”

“S-sure,” stammered Chocolat, slipping nimbly out of Chica’s light grip to kneel beside where Rocket was already starting to get to work. “Um, let’s see,” she began, frowning a little as she concentrated on the mechanical nature of the task at hand. “I guess we’ll need some lubricant there, won’t we? That spot looks pretty tight.”

“Not your first rodeo,” chuckled Rocket, taking the can Chocolat offered. “Yeah, that’s a really tight piston. Little more pumping, and it’d get stuck. Nice piece of work overall, though: really good chassis. Sturdy. Reliable.”

“I can see that,” agreed Chocolat, her eyes promptly turning bright again as she started getting into her work. “Just a little prodding here, and you can tell right away, this model can take a hard pounding and keep on going. Um…oh, Miss Bonnie, could you please flip over? We need to check your rotators.”

“Of course, dear,” answered the powder-blue robo-rabbit in her kindly voice, even as she gave Chica a teasing smirk, which the yellow-feathered robo-chicken answered with a pout and folded arms.

“Nice and flexible right here,” said Rocket, up to his elbows in his work. “Needs a little jiggling, though, to keep it moving just…yeah, that’s the stuff. Gimme that tool, willya, kid?”

“This one?” asked Chocolat, picking up the indicated item. “I don’t know, it’s awfully small. For a job like that, you’ll need the biggest unit available.”

“It’s not the size of the wrench,” growled Rocket, “it’s how you use it. Now gimme that…huh, guess you might have a point. Okay, next size up, then.”

“There we go,” said Chocolat happily. “That’s getting a nice rhythm to it already. Pump it in and out a few times, and I think we’ll be good to go.”

“Oooh,” moaned Bonnie in pure bliss. “You dears have no idea how good that feels!”

“My turn!” exclaimed Chica, nudging Bonnie out of the way as she positioned herself before the two mechanics. “I need servicing really bad! I’m leaking lubricant all over my drivetrain.”

-

Raven’s eyes were as stoic as always beneath the shadows of her cowl. Naturally, she didn’t have any drinks in front of her, despite the many offers of the bartender to get her something, along with his assurances that there wasn’t an age limit on drinking on Warworld. Carmelita, meanwhile, had a large lady’s drink, mostly juice and soda and ice, with the equivalent of a shot of hard liquor added to give her a light buzz. It was creamy stuff, though, the sort of alcohol that could sneak up on you if you drank too much. Fortunately, Carmelita Montoya Fox knew her limits, having spent many nights working in various undercover functions, some of which required that she drink.

[http://www.thedrunkenmoogle.com/ - I only mix virgin drinks, but some of you might like these

http://www.thedrunkenmoogle.com/tagged/Guardians-of-the-Galaxy is what Carmelita is drinking, on Rocket’s suggestion]

“Taking the edge of yer fear, missy?” asked the bartender, his large cartoon eye (the other being covered by an eyepatch) winking with an audible click as he cleaned a glass with his hook hand. Or was it blinking? Carmelita couldn’t really tell.

“Is it obvious?” she asked, heaving a light sigh, which turned into a slightly dreamy smile as she cast her eyes toward the stage, where Renamon curled her supple body around the pole, her legs soon lifting in a wide V as she showed off the barely-visible cameltoe at the front of her purple panties – the visibility was limited more by distance than anything else, as the panties were almost translucent. “Just…taking a little show before Raven and I get to our part of the work.”

“Sounds like you’ve got quite a job,” said the bartender, a fox himself, now that Carmelita was paying attention. Well…mostly a fox, if robots made to look like one-eyed, one-handed pirate foxes counted. “Maybe I kin help ye. After all, a bartender hears a great many secrets and dirty backroom deals. Ah, no questions from me, only from you,” he added at Carmelita’s suspicious glance. “I may be a tap for information, but not on people’s personal troubles. Those, to a bartender, ‘re sacred, missy. Same reason I don’t ask for yer names.”

“Tell us about the Pyramid,” said Raven, breaking her silence.

“Ah, the Pyramid Casino,” the foxy bartender said with a slow nod. “Aye, that’s an interesting place, if e’er there was one. Over on this side of the casino boulevard, where the other respectable places are, like ours and Fat Cat’s Casino. Well…Fat Cat’s isn’t really respectable, but the owner keeps the dirty business on the downlow…mostly. He’s as dirty as Jabba, but he’s better at keeping it quiet. I’ve heard he keeps his head singer, Clarice Chipmunk, on a literal leash, paying off some sort of debt to him.

But ye weren’t asking about Fat Cat’s. Ye wanted to know about the Pyramid. Well, it’s a rough place, and no mistake, but you’d never think it to look at it: the place has class. There’s gold trim and red velvet all over, marble and glass and even crystal chandeliers. ‘Course, the place hasn’t got a regular floor show now, not after the Barn made an aggressive grab, and took the main singer at the Pyramid for their own. Something about blackmail or somesuch, though I don’t know the details. Otherwise, it’s a fine place, very safe, very clean. If the lively atmosphere of Freddy’s isn’t to yer likin’, or you’d rather avoid Freddy himself – and, truthfully, who wouldn’t? The bear’s a fiend for an attractive rump – then the Pyramid’s your place.

“Problem with the Pyramid…well, there’s the owner. Nobody really knows who she is. Scuttlebutt says she’s some sort of a powerful sorceress, who came out here to this no-man’s land to get away from the attentions of the gods that normally rule Warworld. She might even be some sort of runaway goddess in her own right, if some of the wilder rumors are to be believed. Recently, she picked up this slim grey rat, Omar bin Saheed, as a faceman and gofer. Nobody really knows where he came from, though. Despite initial looks, likely from the hunch and the magic on ‘im, he’s no skaven. He might be a rat, but he’s a different sort o’ rat from the typical run around here.”

“Actually,” purred a lightly sultry voice from nearby, before a shapely purple-on-lilac feline figure…wound herself into being on a nearby barstool, piece by semi-connected piece, “Omar isn’t his real name.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cEAysdnvW-0

“What is?” asked Raven, paying no attention to the thunderstruck looks on the faces of the other two foxes at the bar.

“Ah, that would be telling,” said the cat. “But I could give you a clue to find out, if you’d like.” Then the large yellow eyes blinked, fixing on Raven with a strange – albeit temporary – clarity. “You made a fine rabbit, by the way, my dear. I’m sure I would have eaten you up if we’d met then. Only in the nicest of ways, of course – I’m not that sort of girl.”

“Of course,” said Raven, quirking an eyebrow slightly. “The clue you were offering?”

“Oh, of course, the clue!” exclaimed the striped cat. “How silly of me – it simply slipped my mind.”

As she said this, a slip of paper did indeed fall right out of the cat’s ear, dropping to the bar in front of Raven.

“Hmm, no, I’m terribly sorry,” said the cat finally. “I’m afraid I’ve completely forgotten what I was going to tell you. Still, I wish you all the luck in the world.” As she spoke, she gradually started fading away, stripe by stripe, starting at her tail, and ending with a pair of yellow eyes and a set of grinning teeth. “Well, as long as it doesn’t come from this world, at least. I’m afraid there’s only really enough luck around here for, oh…three.” As she said this, she (or, rather, her teeth) giggled, and then winked out of sight.

“Friend o’ yours?” asked the foxy bartender, lifting his eyepatch (which revealed that he did, indeed, have two perfectly good eyes) to rub his eyes, as though to clear them of some impediment. “She’s got quite a fine set of knockers, if you’ll pardon my crudeness…well, when they weren’t fading in and out piecemeal like they were, that is. If she is yer friend, does she always go about in her altogethers, and can ye get me her number?”

“No to the first and last,” answered Raven as she picked up the little note from the bartop. “As for the middle one, I’m afraid I don’t know, but I’m also afraid the answer is probably yes.” She studied the note for a few moments more, then tore up the paper, before letting it dissolve into smoke with a light application of magic. “Come on, Detective Fox,” she said, standing and starting toward the door. “We don’t have time to wait for the rest of the show; we’ve got to hurry now.”

Carmelita cast a last, longing look toward the stage, where Renamon was leaning back against the pole, her tail wrapped around its base as she stood in profile to the audience, her hands cupping and then caressing her perfect breasts. The detective could see the gold-furred vixen working off the pasties covering her nipples, and knew they wouldn’t last very long at this rate. But…duty called.

“To the Pyramid?” she asked, catching up with the teen (and completely missing the ever-so-slight flush on Raven’s face as she’d glanced toward the stage as well).

“Yes,” said Raven. “Eventually. That note said there was someone looking for Omar. That someone was in one of the casinos. Someone who could help us.”

“Might be a trap,” commented Carmelita.

“Yes,” agreed Raven. “It might be.”

As they stepped out into the chill of the desert night, the flashing lights of the neon casino signs threw strange and eerie shadows on the rooftops around them. If Raven’s senses weren’t so psychically attuned, she might not have noticed the strangely indistinct outlines darting from rooftop to rooftop. They seemed to be stalking each other.

*

[Direct method – 65% chance of success, 5 successes needed to win, 3 failures to lose; 20% chance for each party member to escape on a total failure; coinflip to determine if individuals are taken prisoner – heads for claiming heads, tails for claiming tails]

“Don’t touch her,” declared a cruel, haughty voice, young with the higher pitch of youth, but strong all the same. “Not until I’ve had my fill.”

The red-furred goatmen – khazra, apparently, being their proper race name, of the powerful Hell Clan – parted slightly as a white-furred creature pushed his way through them from out of the darkness. The younger goatman – just barely shy of being a goatboy, actually – was firmly-muscled, with a swimmer’s sleek-but-strong built, and wearing a tight-fitting long tunic, complete with pauldrons on the shoulders, and strange mystic symbols on the front. Seen from the side, however, it was obvious he wasn’t wearing a stitch beneath that tunic, since the sides were open flaps, bound only at the waist. From his back extended a pair of great black wings, batlike and hooked with claws at the joints.

On seeing this newcomer, and hearing him tell the others to stop, Amelia’s eyes filled briefly with hope. Then she caught sight of the slender goatboy’s face, devoid of any compassion, and her lower lip started to tremble. Her hands lifted, and she started to blubber out a desperate plea for mercy, only to have the goatboy seize her head, then brush aside his tunic before roughly shoving his surprisingly sizable prick into her mouth, stopping her voice with a sudden popping sound. The other goatmen gathered around, laughing and making crude comments that made the poor piggy’s cheeks burn, even as she tried her level, desperate best to satisfy the cruel capine that was raping her cute little mouth.

Suddenly, with a snort of disgust, the goatboy jerked Amelia’s head back, then shoved her onto the ground, jerking his tunic back into place over his still-erect penis.

“Worthless,” he said with a disdainful curl of his lip, revealing his razor-sharp teeth. “Rape her until she passes out, then wake her up – I want her fully aware when she starts to roast!”

“Nooo!” wailed Amelia pitifully, looking around at the crimson-furred goatmen as they closed in around her, seeing only hunger and lust in their burning eyes and throbbing red shafts. She continued to sob and struggle, but only weakly, as one goatman grabbed her scarf, jerking her onto her back, while others mauled her delicate and very sensitive pink skin with their cruel hands. She kicked her short legs as best as she could, before they were pinned to the ground, then forced slowly apart, the cruel monsters savoring the sobs of despair from their adorable and utterly doomed little victim.

“Nice hams!”

“Bacon for breakfast!”

“Butt roast for dinner!”

“We’ll spitroast her before we spitroast her!”

In all the excitement, the lusty and carnivorously hungry goat demons failed to notice a shapely, white-furred figure walk up next to their leader, who looked on, arms folded, with a cruel smile on his wickedly handsome young face. The figure had on a simple paper mask, and on that mask was a simple rune. Within that rune, however, was some very potent magic, made to convince anyone who looked on the wearer that the wearer was one of them.

[65% chance of success – rolled 29 – success #1! New chance of success 70%]

“Hmm?” said the goatboy, turning suddenly as he realized someone had arrived. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at your post?” He frowned, cocking his head slightly, and then nodded, comprehension dawning on his face. “Ah, you’ve brought a message, then? All right, let’s have it.”

Holding out his hand, the goatboy waited expectantly for some sort of scroll or other missive from the higher-ups beneath the ruined tower. What he got instead was a heavy pair of hands, clasped together, coming down hard on the back of his head, laying him flat.

[Tails – Asriel is ours to keep]

Jon Talbain spared only enough time to give Angela an approving nod at her expertly-delivered blow, and strode past with a feral stalk to his walk. Like a wild beast, he and Brooklyn leapt forward, lashing and tearing and tossing foes this way and that, their fighting style a strange mixture of savagery and deadly science, with Talbain’s tending more toward science, and Brooklyn’s to savagery.

When it was all over, Talbain stepped through the fallen khazra, and reached down to untie the little pig sobbing on the ground at his feet, tearing off her bonds with his sharp claws.

“You all right?” he asked in his gruff, lightly snarling voice, making Amelia flinch a little despite herself – he was a carnivore, after all, however well-intentioned he might be.

“Yes,” gasped out the precious pink pig. “Yes, thanks to you. I can’t ever thank you enough for…”

“We don’t have time,” said Talbain, putting one gentle finger over her mouth. “There’s others below, and we’ve gotta save ‘em. You a pilot?”

“Yes,” affirmed Amelia. “I was the pilot for our spacecraft. But we were herded here by a huge space monster. Then more monsters came flying out of nowhere, and…well, I couldn’t dodge them all,” she admitted, looking down in shame. “Our ship was taken away, I think to someplace north of here. As for the passengers,” she motioned with her head toward the cellar door. “They’re down there. This place is owned by somebody called the Countess. I heard horrible stories about her, how she bathes in the blood of virgins to live forever, and worse things. She’s this awful, green-skinned woman. She’d be beautiful, except for her eyes: they’re so filled with evil, you can feel it.”

“Some sort of lock on the door,” reported Kovu, coming back from the cellar door with Kiara. “I don’t know if we can get it open: it looks like magic.”

Jon Talbain gently caressed Amelia’s head to comfort her, then turned and took a look at the door. There was a plate on the front, with the print of a large, demonic hand set into it. Frowning a moment, he glanced at Okami. But the wolf-goddess was already lifting the unconscious goatboy, and carrying him on her back to the door. Grabbing his wrist, Okami thrust the white-furred male’s hand against the plate. Though his hand was obviously much smaller than that of the impression on the door, it must have been good enough, because moments later, a seam split the middle of the door, and parted, letting the party pass through.

-

“There are three essential sorts of corruption at work here,” said Ariel, trying to keep both Kim’s and her own attention off the horrors taking place all around them. “Three basic ways that the forces of evil try to turn others to their side. The first is direct mind control. Usually, it’s delivered by a direct dose of magic, or perhaps an especially powerful being with a natural talent for hypnosis. The Countess can do that if you look into her eyes. I think – I hope – that’s what she’s done to that platinum blonde down there,” she added, but pointedly did not look in Princess Elsa’s direction. “The next level is using emotion magic to corrupt. That sort of magic is tied to pleasure and pain. Typically, the one using the magic subjects a victim to a combination of the two, though the pain is sometimes just the mental anguish of being sexually assaulted.”

“And the third?” asked Kim, sharing Ariel’s unwillingness to look in the direction of the carnal horrors taking place so nearby.

“Temptation,” answered Ariel, shaking her head. “That’s how someone like the Countess became what she is: she chose to be evil, of her own free will. If that’s what’s corrupted the Princess Elsa,” she looked down, “I don’t know what can be done for her.”

At that moment, the Princess Elsa was dragging her strawberry blonde sister across the floor by her hair, demonstrating astonishing strength. She ignored the younger girl’s pleading as she hauled Anna up, then seized the front of her dress. With a single, swift jerk, she easily shattered – not tore, but shattered – the front of the other girl’s dress, laying her pert, upthrust breasts bare, the orange-pink nipples quickly growing erect in the chill air of the dungeon.

“No, sister, please!” begged Anna as khazra pulled off the remnants of her clothes, then hoisted her into the air, her legs and arms jerking futilely against their powerful grip. “Please, you’re not like this!”

“Who says I’m not?” queried the platinum blonde Elsa coldly, nodding to the khazra as they paused, giving her a questioning look. “Put her on the altar.”

Bleating in cruel laughter at the desperate cries of the doomed princess, the goatmen slapped her naked back down against the frigid stone, then locked the shackles at her wrist and ankles firmly into place.

“Such a pity,” said the Countess, rising from her throne and walking down the stairs, to slowly run a caressing hand down Anna’s squirming, nubile body. “Your blood would have extended my beauty another decade at least.” Her fingers paused over the light dusting of red-blonde fluff over Anna’s pubis. “But the masters of my masters desire proper sacrifices,” the green-skinned woman finally said with an annoyed sigh. “Living victims for them to torment and defile.” Her hand lifted, and she made a dismissive gesture. “Send her to her doom.”

“With pleasure,” declared Elsa, her smile spreading wide with cruelty. “Goodbye, dearest sister. Our parents always did love you best.”

“No, Elsa!” sobbed Anna, her beautiful young breasts heaving as her willowy body writhed on the great stone altar. “Don’t let them do it! Don’t let them sacrifice me!”

“Let them?” Elsa said with an incredulous, mocking laugh. “I’m going to do it myself!”

[Heads – Anna is lost]

Elsa intoned a few arcane words, and suddenly the altar blazed into life. Light shot upward, engulfing Anna, who had only time enough for a single, final, despairing scream. Then the light was gone, and the altar was empty. After a moment, the shackles, no longer occupied, snapped open, ready for the next victim.

Not far off, Ookla the Mok was gritting his teeth tightly as his muscular, brown-furred body squirmed against the hard pillar to which he was bound. Before him, three beautiful, red-eyed women, their skin so pale it was almost blue, were greedily sharing the mighty beast’s penis between them, nibbling up and down its length with sharp-fanged mouths, flicking their tongues over its head, even sharing kisses with the fat, dripping glans between their greedy lips.

Thundarr, on the other hand, seemed…well, less interested. He simply observed the five corrupted rogues trying desperately to get some sort of rise out of him, using all their feminine wiles to accomplish this feat. Though they’d started to have some success at the start with the blonde barbarian, now it seemed that all their efforts were in vain.

“Well,” sighed Ariel, glancing down at this sight, “at least I’m not the only one.”

The Countess, who was just starting to ascend the stairs toward the prison cells where the various captives were being held, paused, then glanced down at the barbarian.

“Witch!” declared Thundarr, proud and scornful. “Your women shall not beguile me! A barbarian yields to no foul sorcery!”

“Hmm,” mused the Countess, a devilish smile on her face as an idea occurred to her. “Perhaps you’re right, barbarian: perhaps my women truly can have no effect on you. In fact, I doubt that I, with all my ageless beauty, could affect you. But I think I know who can.” She turned her head slightly, then whistled. “Pet! Show my useless rogues how it is done!”

Immediately, the great, shaggy creature known as Beast rose from where he’d been crouching by the Countess’ throne. He was naked save for a long cape, and it was obvious that, not only was he powerfully-muscled, he was big all over. Thundarr’s eyes turned to this new threat, and he blinked in surprise.

“Demon dogs!” he bellowed. “What manner of treachery is-mmm!”

Thundarr’s eyes immediately widened as the short muzzle of Beast met his lips. The strong-muscled blonde barbarian struggled against both iron chains and iron grip as Beast’s sharp-taloned hands stroked and caressed the human’s chest and stomach with surprising gentleness. Then, gradually, his eyes closed, and his penis began to rise.

“Huh,” said Ariel, blinking. “I guess that explains a lot of things, actually.”

[70% chance of success – rolled 31 – success #2! New chance of success 75%]

Suddenly, from above, where the stairs led up into regions unknown, a shaggy caprine body came tumbling down, landing with a loud crunch with the force of impact at the bottom of the steps. Moments later, two winged shapes darted from the stairway and into the room, tearing with razored claws as they went!

“Get ‘em!” yelled Jon Talbain as he bounded on all-fours into the chamber, meeting the lunge of two hulking Tainted, their eyes and mouths glowing with a ghastly, poisonous green light. In moments, he tossed their broken, bleeding bodies aside, and started to make his way forward, through the pressing throng, toward the Countess herself, Kovu and Kiara right behind him, thrusting out with their spears, their heavy winter cloaks discarded on the upper levels to give their loincloth-clad bodies full freedom of movement.

[Tiana – heads

Tiger Lily – heads

Belle – heads]

“Get the sacrifices out of here!” commanded the Countess, khazra rushing to act on her command, while the nearly-naked corrupted rogues flanked her as she led the counter-charge against their attackers. “Take them to Demitri – he’ll be able to complete the ritual!”

As the goatmen hurried to comply, dragging the young women from their cage and tossing them over their broad shoulders before hurrying off toward a passage leading into depths unknown, the Countess paused by the cage containing the little grey imp with the orange hair, and the strange wolf with the blue eyes.

“Take her, and go!” she commanded imperiously.

The wolf’s eyes flared red, and he turned to face the presented, rounded rump of the little girl imp.

“No, Link!” begged the girl. “Don’t let her take control of you! Don’t give into your beast!”

[Wolf Link - tails

Midna – tails]

The wolf’s eyes flickered between red and blue, again and again, faster now, then faster still, until the transition became a purple blue. Finally, giving a short howl of anguish, the wolf turned, and lunged straight at the wall, slamming into it with his skull. He slumped to the ground, limp, but still breathing.

“Useless fool!” exclaimed the enraged Countess, before wheeling on the approaching Talbain. “Kill them!” she screeched like a wildcat, and lunged into the fray!

[75% chance of success – rolled 8 – success #3! New chance of success 80%]

The battle was vicious and pitched, with no quarter offered or given. The five allies held close together, back-to-back, as the foe closed in around them, crashing time and time again against their bulwark of defense. And again and again they thrust their attackers back, corrupted rogues screaming as the demonic souls inhabiting the empty shells of their bodies were wrenched free, then sent to the Hell their actions and desires had earned. Tainted hellhounds hunched forward like monstrous baboons, only to take spears through their gaping mouths and straight into their brains, or a heavy mace brought down on their skulls, or lashing claws rip them to shreds.

But the fight was not one-sided. Arrows whistled from rogue archers, taking careful aim, and many of the corrupted rogues bore long pikes, which they drove forward. Talbain’s blue-and-white fur was soon stained red with many wounds, both young lions were panting hard, their natural agility saving them from many injuries, but not all by far, and even the stony skin of the gargoyles was cracked and leaking crimson life from countless chips and gouges.

Could they hold out?

[80% chance of success – rolled 45 – success #4! New chance of success 85%]

Just as the Countess was stalking forward, her sharp-toothed grin visible beneath the heavy bull-skull helm she wore, ready to press the attack to its fullest, a flash of blue rent the air, and she fell, screaming, a gash running the length of her leg!

“Who dares?!” she shrieked, on her feet in a flash, spinning to face her attacker. “You!”

It was Okami! The white-furred wolf goddess stood with a long, straight sword in her hand, its blade a gleaming metallic blue with a golden ring around the hilt. She pointed the tip at the Countess’ heart, then held the blade upright in a salute. Her attitude said clearly, even if her mouth was silent: ‘Now that I have your attention – have at you!’

The Countess was a wild thing as she leapt at Okami, lashing out again and again and again with her blood-soaked red blade, screaming as though she were a fiend from Hell itself! Okami’s dark eyes narrowed as she focused her entire attention on battling her foe, sparing little attention for anything else. With Jon Talbain and the others still hard-pressed by foes on all sides, there was nobody to stop the khazra as they opened the cell where Kim Possible and Ariel lay on the flagstones, Elsa a short distance behind them.

“Gather up the rest of the sacrifices,” declared Elsa. She glanced down toward where Beast was standing, looking stupidly off into space now that the Countess was distracted, while Ookla and Thundarr struggled mightily against their bonds. She seemed to be making a decision about them.

[Kim Possible – tails

Ariel – heads

Thundarr – tails

Ookla – tails

Beast – tails

Elsa - heads]

“Leave the men,” she said with a contemptuous wave of one delicate, white-fingered hand. “I doubt Master Maximoff would be interested in them anyway.” She scowled as Kim started to kick and thrash as one of the goatmen tried to grab her, not finding the redhead at all like the docile princesses they’d previously carried off, or even Ariel, who fit nicely over one of their shoulders. “And her – we don’t have time to bother.”

In haste, the goatmen fled through the dark passage partially hidden at the rear of the chamber, Elsa in the lead, leaving the Countess to fend for herself as best as she could.

[85% chance of success – rolled 45 – success!]

Which, as it turned out, wasn’t very well at all. Knocking the blood-drenched warrior-witch’s blade aside, Okami stepped forward, and neatly ran her own sword right through the Countess’ heart. With a terrible scream, the Countess shuddered all over, her body arching as she gripped the blade driven into her body, her hands growing bloodied as they tore at the edge. Before Okami’s eyes, the Countess’ whole body deteriorated, skin growing wrinkled with the ravages of time long-delayed. Then the flesh began to peel back, and flake away, almost as though time were fire, and her stolen life was a bonfire long in the offing, baring the bones, then turning them black.

Then there was nothing but ashes.

Though the death of their mistress didn’t immediately spell the end for the corrupted rogues or the remaining tainted, it did mean they became deeply distracted, unable to focus on the battle while the mental commands that had kept their wickedness united under a single ruler were suddenly and permanently ripped asunder. In the time granted by distraction, the attackers tore through the last of their enemies, leaving their bodies scattered on the floor.

“No blood,” growled Jon Talbain as he glanced at the rogues, a great contrast to the heavily-leaking bodies of the hellhounds that lay side-by-side with them. “Just dark souls to fill out their mass.” He grimaced. “Not so attractive when you think about it that way.”

Brooklyn was already hurrying to Kim’s cell, tearing the door from its hinges. He reached in, and shredded the chains on the human girl’s wrists and ankles with ease, before offering her his hand, helping her to her feet.

“That scouting mission was awful,” said Kim as she walked out of the cell, wobbling a little on unsteady feet. “But not a complete waste.”

Forcing the thoughts of her sexual assault aside, Kim related everything that she had seen and heard that she thought could possibly be of use. As she spoke, Okami stepped forward, then rested her hands on the girl’s head. With that touch, Kim suddenly felt all the trauma of her former suffering just fading away, her mind healing in the same way the wolf goddess healed bodies and purified the land of its corrupting influences. That trauma relieved, she found it far easier to share even more details, including mention of the name Demitri Maximoff.

“Bet it’s one of those other castles,” said Jon with a light curl of his lip. “But we’ve got wounded here.” He heaved a long sigh as he weighed his options. Sometimes, being the alpha wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

Choices

*Ship

A variety of naughty scenes are placed before us as possibilities. Here are some possible combinations (feel free to suggest your own for later votes, including prior suggestions from the comments section):

-Gilda and Rainbow Dash (third partner by suggestion)

-Zeke and Stallion dommed by Samus Aran

-Krystal works over Zeke and Stallion

-The asari squeeze the evil out of Stallion (well…the corruption, anyway; note: asari don’t get pregnant through normal methods)

-Gilda gangbang

-Zeke pounces Bambi

-Stallion tempts Elh

-Master Tigress and Krystal help Princess Luna overcome her corruption (Red Savarin intrusion very likely)

-Applejack compares apple sizes with Samus Aran (Big Macintosh involvement likely)

-Samus Aran is fangirled by Rainbow Dash

-Samus Aran gets her suit fixed by Tails

-Krystal and Big Macintosh (other pony walkin very likely)

-Big Macintosh and Stallion

-Big Macintosh and Tails

-Spitfire and Stallion, tables turned

-Spitfire and Red Savarin, captains comparing notes

-Boss and Red

-Tails and Elh

-Krystal and Red and Elh

-Elh punishes Zeke

-Princess Luna channels Nightmare Moon, takes on everyone (is very embarrassed afterward)

-No scene at all this episode – focus on the other scenes instead

During any scene containing a “bad guy” (ie Gilda, Stallion, or Zeke), some hints and reveals about the nature of the present evil threatening Warworld will be revealed. Zeke is especially knowledgeable, but also especially crafty.

Red and Elh are only barely included due to still working through their relationship issues. They are, however, very likely to walk in on most any scene that takes place, either separately or together. Spitfire is only included in two scenes due to her still recovering from her prior

At least one of the above scenes (or suggested ones) will take place per episode, until they are all used up, or the subject seems tapped out.

Also:

Move main camp to Temple? Y/N

*Casino City

The note we got directed us toward one of the following casinos (we’ll retroactively say it was one of the two below, whichever gets the most votes). Pick the one you like best, or else the Pyramid if we decide to skip straight to our next destination:

The Last Stop – 10% chance of trouble, 80% chance of parts…and a hefty price to pay

The Mouse Trap – 30% chance of trouble, 50% chance of parts

The Pyramid – 10% chance of trouble, 25% chance of parts, will meet Emerald Eyes

Do we look for parts if we go to another casino? Y/N

Also:

Should the Predators make an appearance? Y/N

*Rescue Party

Two choices for us here:

Should Wolf Link be humanoid or feral?

Do we press on toward the distant flickering castle, to the closer normal castle, or do we head back to the ship?

Incidentally, Morrigan Aensland is still out there…somewhere.