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Ultimate Furry Crossover: An Adult Choose Your Own Adventure

Entry 64

By Gideon Kalve Jarvis and gryfalcon

Vote Tallies

*Hellstation

1) Ratchet and the SWATKats – 27 – the winnah!

(60% chance of success, 4 successes or failures; violation of prisoners a result of failure)

*Desert City

2) Bambi and company make their way to the Pyramid Casino and safety - 20

(45% chance of success, 3 successes or failures; success here will put Bambi, Berri, Shirley McLoon, and Goldie Pheasant into active play, and safely retire the others; failure will put everyone into the clutches of Shere Khan and Wile E. Coyote)

3) What's going on at another casino?

-Fat Cat's Casino - a 20's-style speakeasy - 17

(55% chance of success, rolled 5 times; the fate of the Rescue Rangers and the Mousekewitzs)

-The Mouse Trap - a pub with the best card games in Casino City - 5

[Will also include what's going on in the sewers of Casino City]

-The Percheron - all-horse review, actually a pretty safe spot; strip poker common - 22

-Pleasure Island - a place for transformations - 1

*Castlevania and Environs

4) The Zerg and the Xenomorphs - 14

(50% chance of success for the Queen of Blades, best of 3; will include other characters)

5) The final Count-down - 7

(60% chance of success, rolled 3 times)

6) Ayumi, both Lara Crofts, Daring Do, and Rouge do some treasure hunting by themselves - 9

(40% chance of success, rolled 5 times, once for each character)

7) Dealing with the heroes' prisoners - 18

*Other Locations

8) Bowser and company have "dessert" while planning (no vore involved, I promise...unless specifically requested; a lot of "eating" will take place, though) - 21

9) Shere Khan's further villainy (introduction of Gary the Rat) - 0

10) More scenes in the Jungles of Rage – 3

(50% chance, rolled 4 times)

Author Notes

After some thought, I’ve decided that it’s time to do some plot advancing. Hence the sudden jump in available votes, as you’ll see next week, when I list them all. Some of the votes, of course, are mutually exclusive, and will drop from view if something else is selected instead.

As for scenes with the characters on the Ship, that won’t happen until after some conclusion has taken place around Castlevania, since that’s where they’ve been voted to head next – either the Zerg and the Xenomorphs, or the Final Count Down scenarios.

Another entry or two, and I think I’ll move some scenes and characters that haven’t been voted on for a while up here, drawing attention to them. If they still don’t get any votes, I’ll shuffle them into my idea pile, for use if and when it seems appropriate only, and then remove them from the votes below.

This will be a two-parter, both in light of the upcoming holiday, and because I’d like to keep length down a little. So enjoy what’s below, and Happy Halloween. J

UFC Entry 64

“This ship’s really strange compared to our Turbokat,” Razor commented, frowning as he concentrated on the complex panel of controls before him. “No…never mind. Not that different…not really. Shouldn’t be too hard to figure out; it’s just like weapons controls just about anywhere, now that I’ve found my orientation.”

“Make up your darn mind, Razor!” T-Bone laughed from his supine position in the pilot’s couch, lying on his stomach as he gripped the operating controls. “I’m just here to do the flying!”

“Looks like we’ll need all the fancy maneuvers you can manage, my good sir,” Clank reported from his position plugged into the primary computer of the SpaceKat, his voice as proper as ever. “I’m reading the rapid approach of a great many ‘bogeys,’ and they look to be quite a mix.”

“Give it to us straight, good buddy,” Ratchet called down from the top turret, where he’d taken up his position, just as Talwyn Apogee and Sasha Phyronix had taken up their own battlestations at the side turrets, and Felina Feral was set up as tailgunner. “Who’s coming, how many, and how bad’s it look?”

“Who is the hard question, so I’ll save it for last,” Clank answered promptly, doing his best not to admire Callie Briggs’ and Angela Cross’ tails as they busied themselves at the sensor and engineering stations, respectively (especially hard with Angela, since her outfit tended to cling tightly to her supple curves). “How many would be approximately four-hundred thirty-one combatants, according to the data Miss Briggs’ station is feeding me. Most of those are fighters, in varying degrees of battle-readiness, but there are a few capital ships in the mix. Given the skill of our combat team, and the excellent construction of the SpaceKat, I would say that we have…approximately fifty-nine-point-six-oh-eight percent odds at the present time. Rounded up to the nearest thousandths place, of course.”

“Of course,” returned Sasha, sharing a familiar grin with Felina and Talwyn, the three warrior women feeling fully in their element (for though Sasha was a politician by profession, she had enough warrior’s cred to stand beside her fellow combatants).

“As to who we’re up against,” Clank continued, apparently not noticing the slight mockery in Sasha’s voice, “a lot of people, actually. Alphabetically, the ships we face belong to forces of the kilrathi, the neogi, the orks, the scro, the tyranids, and the vodoni. I also believe I detect a few Thugs-4-Less light fighters scattered in the mix, and several Dark Eldar cruisers, no doubt providing logistical support. While our odds are reasonable, they are, I am afraid, only calculated against any one of our disparate foes. Against all of them…I am afraid that we have quite a warfleet on our hands. I am still calculating the odds of our success against all of these arrayed forces…”

[Dark Eldar (http://warhammer40k.wikia.com/wiki/Dark\_Eldar)

Kilrathi (http://wingcommander.wikia.com/wiki/Kilrathi and https://www.wcnews.com/wcpedia/Kilrathi)

Neogi (http://spelljammer.wikia.com/wiki/Neogi)

Orks (http://warhammer40k.wikia.com/wiki/Ork)

Scro (https://www.dandwiki.com/wiki/Scro\_(5e\_Race) and http://spelljammer.wikia.com/wiki/Scro)

Tyranids (http://warhammer40k.wikia.com/wiki/Tyranids)

Vodoni (http://spelljammer.wikia.com/wiki/Vodoni)

Also http://www.oocities.org/timessquare/6597/ShipYard/ for pictures of the Spelljammer ships]

“No time left!” T-Bone growled from the pilot’s position. “Everybody, get ready – everywhere around this big hunk of metal’s about to become the biggest furball around!”

“Greetings, weak ones!” came a sudden voice crackling from the communications center, as Ann Gora did her best, working alongside Dr. Abby Sinian, to keep all the various comm traffic under control, a moment later sending the image of the speaker – a humanoid wolf’s hoary grey-furred face – onto the main viewscreen. “We, the warriors of the Vodoni Empire, command that you surrender now, and allow us to board you. Should you submit voluntarily, I, the great Packleader Grruf, promise that the subsequent sodomy of your males and the breeding of your females will be done in a manner to ensure your pleasure. Deny us, and I assure you, should we take you alive, your pleasure will be anything but guaranteed…though ours will be!”

T-Bone glanced back at Razor and Ratchet, they being the ones he could most easily see from his station. Razor grinned toothily, while Ratchet shrugged his shoulders. Before the large, muscular kat could give these replies in a more verbal form, however, another image crackled onto the screen.

“Pathetic dogs,” snarled the feline visage on the screen. “Surrender to the glory of the kilrathi, fellow felines, and I can assure that you will be treated with honor. We have heard of your abilities, SWATKats and Lombax, and may even have a place for you in our ranks, if you should accept.”

“Unlikely,” hissed a low, sibilant voice, as a strange, eel-like shape took center screen, supplanting the kilrathi commander. “We neogi know that the kilrathi are consummate liars. Surrender to them, and you will find yourselves as pleasure slaves to one of their commanders…or perhaps to their emperor, if you are lucky. We, however, tell you the truth: you can surrender now, and bypass all the suffering of our lifejammers, or you can fall to our spiderships, and suffer in ways that are impossible to describe.”

“Doesn’t matter much to us, chums,” laughed a piggish, green-skinned face that slid onto the screen at last. “We scro know good fighters when we see ‘em. An’ if you survive the fight, you’ll make good cocksleeves for the after-party! We’re gettin’ a share of the goods no matter what you wanna do…but personally, I hope you put up some fight!”

“Anybody else?” Ratchet asked wryly, glancing down at Sinian and Gora as they struggled to pinpoint the location of the command craft that had sent the communications. “Those tyranid guys, maybe? Or the Dark Eldar? They sound pretty scary, so they’ll probably be pretty good at putting on a good intimidation show. Don’t bother checking with the Thugs-4-Less, though: those guys never talk when they can fight.”

“Based on what I know of their culture,” Dr. Sinian expounded, “I’d say that the only reason we even heard from the scro at all is because they’re, well…scro. They goblins, orks, orcs, and ogres they’re leading couldn’t care less what we have to say.”

“You said orcs twice,” Ann said, arching an eyebrow.

“No, I said orcs, and orks,” Abby retorted huffily. “Completely different things.”

“Save the semantics for later,” hissed Talwyn urgently from her turret, before leaning into the guns at her fingertips. “Here they come!”

*

“You see?” Red chuckled condescendingly down at Krypto, casually leaning down to caress the big, muscular dog’s ears, even as his other hand tugged a little harder on the softly-glowing, purple chain connected to the collar around the white superdog’s neck, forcing Krypto’s muzzle harder against the red-furred demoncat’s outstretched paws. “Only now, when it is far too late, you finally see how weak you always were, and always will be, compared to the forces you fight.”

If he could have closed his eyes, Krypto would have – anything, to keep from seeing himself running his broad, smooth tongue slowly over the soles of Red’s footpaws, being sure to work between each toe, one by one. If he could have shut his ears, Krypto would happily have gone deaf, rather than listen to the moans of Stargirl and Supergirl as Swift Wind happily took his time loudly and messily slurping on their delicate pink pussies, his dexterous equine lips and powerful tongue more than a match for the resistances of the blonde superheroines. Not far away, Krypto could smell Comet, and sometimes saw glimpses of the white-furred superhorse out of the corner of one eye, bound with his back to one of the strange bony growths that had extended from the fleshy surface of the inner Hellstation, connecting ceiling to floor. The super-stallion was forced to watch as Swift Wind brought pleasure to the captive Supergirl, not him, while strange, jacklegged, red-skinned women with tooth-filled, split heads caressed Comet’s chest and thighs and raging erection, seeming to feed off his frustration, growing stronger with every passing moment, even as Comet seemed to steadily lose his will to keep resisting.

What was worst of all, however, was the smell. Everything in this dark place smelled like sex!

Where in the Hellstation, Krypto didn’t know, and his x-ray vision couldn’t tell him, as it, like most of his powers, weren’t working very well in the absence of a yellow sun, like the one just outside the Hellstation’s walls, and in the presence of such potent, infernal magic. There was one iota of strength left in him, but Krypto didn’t dare to reveal it, not yet. Perhaps he would never get the chance. Perhaps he’d only be able to use it to finish himself off, before he was utterly corrupted, like Swift Wind seemed to have been. But maybe – just maybe – he’d get a chance to be a true hero, one more time, if only he could hold out a little…bit…longer.

Red, the devilcat, was seated on a throne he’d erected from the strange, fleshy stuff that had taken over most of the Hellstation, Krypto on his knees before the mighty, muscular feline. Comet was bound to one side, looking down with Red (and sometimes Krypto, when Red allowed his magically collared slave to look down) at an amphitheater of sorts, a sunken stage where all manner of carnal acts could take place. The vipers, alien snake women, had been crying out for what had to have been hours now, the pleasure being inflicted on them by the twisted denizens of Hell never seeming to grow old or stale, but always fresh, like the torment of damned sinners. Swift Wind was enjoying his prizes just a few steps down from Comet, also looking down on the show, seeming to take special delight in teasing Shadow Weaver with his large feet, stroking up her smooth green legs as she lay next to him, threatening every moment to tip her over the edge, into the pit where her other comrades in arms were being ravished by demons of every shape, size, and imaginable description. No penetration, however, had taken place…yet. Red, apparently, was savoring the utter despair of his captives, before he finally broke them utterly.

In the very center of the amphitheater were five pillars of throbbing flesh and smooth white bone. Bound to these pillars, still struggling fetchingly, were the smooth, milk-white figures of the Sailor Scouts. They were to be the centerpiece of Red’s intended rite. The main course at a feast not of meat, but of flesh.

“Only two hours now,” Red said, smirking down at the collared superdog, tugging Krypto’s leash lightly, sending a tremor of raw magical energy coursing down the deceptively slender chain. “Two hours, and this station will crash into War World, and crack open like a great egg, spilling out Hell itself. First that planet will fall, and then others…and others…and still more, until the universe itself will fall to the might of the infernal realms. Nothing you do now can stop this. It is the way things were always meant to be. At the center of the Hellstation, a great ritual is being conducted by Andariel and Magica De Spell: I felt that witchy duck arrive only minutes past. But that is only one ritual. Here,” he motioned to the bound Sailor Scouts, “I will conduct another, to ensure the success of the primary one.” Baring his sharp fangs, he leaned back, pulling Krypto’s muzzle a little more firmly against his large feet, forcing the defeated superdog to smell the brimstone between Red’s toes…and to taste it as well. “I’ve learned a great deal from you so-called heroes in the past. One of the most important of those lessons is this: always have backup plans.”

In the middle of the five points of the pentagram formed by the pillars to which the Sailor Scouts were bound, lines of light, enclosed within a circle, formed on the flesh ground, sizzling it, making a scent something like bacon fill the air. Sailor Mars traded a worried glance with Sailor Mercury as the ground behind them started to fall away.

“It’s a summoning circle, Amy!” the dark-haired girl called out, trying (and only partially succeeding) to keep the fear out of her voice. “They’re calling something out of Hell. Something big.”

The blue-haired teen had been distracted for quite some time now. As the team nerd, she’d quite regularly found herself hard-pressed to keep from openly ogling her friends’ beautiful bodies, especially during their magical changes. Now, they were all stark naked, save for a few tattered remnants…and Amy had a perfect view of her best friend, Serena, on one side, and the gorgeous Lita on the other. With Raye and Mina behind her, their lovely backsides visible with only a slight turn of her head, the British girl was having a terrible time right now – there were just too many distractions…and temptations. Under the best of circumstances, Amy would have been aroused. Right now, however, she was also suffering from the potent effects of chimera juices, the glowing yellow stuff that had been on her naked skin for far too long, a fluid specifically designed to wear down the willpower of women, to make them better breeders for the parasitic invaders. Besides this, the touch of the demons that had bound her to the pillars also had its potency, a lingering effect that was as magical as the chimera venom was physical. Gritting her teeth, however, Sailor Mercury pulled herself together, swallowing down her raging pubescent hormones, and focusing on the needs of the task before her.

“I would say that we’re in the middle of a nexus point, Raye,” said Amy, addressing her friend by name, to force herself to personalize the girl, making Sailor Mars more than a mere object of lust, forcing aside the effects of the fluids of the chimera, and the demons after them. “There’s a big focus of power down here. But it’s not really natural. As you’d be sure to tell us, none of what we’re seeing here belongs in this dimension. Based on what I know about dimensional physics, I’d say that everything here would only take some sort of a ‘bump’ to knock it back to where it belongs. Can you think of anything that would disrupt the dimensional energies being gathered?”

“Disrupt…?” Raye asked, blinking as she fought through the haze on her own brain left by the chimera venom, then nodded, even though she knew Amy couldn’t see her in their present positioning. “Shouldn’t be too hard. All we need is to break one of the lines down around our feet.”

“If we all pull together,” said Lita suddenly, her toned muscles standing out as she grit her teeth, preparing to let all her considerable strength loose, all at once, “I think I can get us free: all these pillars are connected, somewhere underneath; I felt it when I was jerking against them, sort of like the fingers of a hand. All I need is a little extra oomph, from all of us, all at once, and I should be able to jerk…let’s see,” she glanced behind her, blushing a little at the sight of Amy naked, before she forced herself to look further, “either Mina or Serena, since they’re the ones right behind me.”

“Better make it Serena,” Sailor Venus said promptly, giving her blonde friend with the odangos in her hair a wistful smile. “She’s the most powerful of us, after all.”

“All right,” Lita agreed, her face hardening, even as her friends similarly took on expressions of determination. “Get ready for my signal. The pillars are getting weaker with the spread of these lines, so I’ll have to time it for when they’re weakest, but before the lines finish burning into the floor. Brace yourselves…”

Up above, Krypto heard the Sailor Scouts, and knew what he had to do. Reaching down within him, finding that piece of power deep inside, he prepared to make use of it, right when it would be needed most. Red didn’t seem to realize that the Sailor Scouts were planning their escape…or perhaps he just didn’t care. Maybe Red had reason not to care, since he knew the Hellstation better than they likely did.

But Krypto could help. It would take all he had left to give, but if it worked, if it saved the Sailor Scouts from doom, and let them fight another day, it would all be worth it.

As the five girls in the pentagram braced their smooth bottoms against the pillars behind them, toned, supple flesh tensing in readiness to act, Krypto gathered up all his powers, ready to focus them at the most crucial moment. He couldn’t afford to fail.

[http://www.hentai-foundry.com/pictures/user/MAD-Project/267766/Sailor-Moon-DID-set-by-Green-Leona

https://hitomi.la/reader/13083.html#17

https://hitomi.la/reader/13083.html#27

https://hitomi.la/reader/13083.html#28]

*

“Crazy weird…plane…things!” growled T-Bone as he swerved in the thin atmosphere of the Superstation’s outer surface to avoid a slurry of claw-shaped ships, leaving them and the strange orkish aircraft that hung right behind them open to fire from the gun batteries. The lighter gravity gave him the ability to do so much more than he ever could on his homeworld – and on his homeworld he was an ace above aces! “How’re those things even holding together? Duct tape and baling wire?”

[http://warhammer40k.wikia.com/wiki/Fighta-Bommer

http://warhammer40k.wikia.com/wiki/Brute\_Ram\_Ship]

“Actually, yes,” answered Clank almost immediately. “Orks are known for carrying a strong Chaos field with them wherever they go. So, the more they believe in something, and the more of them there are, the more likely that what they believe will take place. For example, if they believe that those strange craft they call ships can fly, well…they do.”

“Okay, that’s just weird,” quipped Razor at the central weapons control panel, his fingers flying like those of a master organist as he released hails of whirring buzz-blades, letting them slice through the ork-craft in a hail of devastation.

“I’d like to say you get used to it,” Ratchet called down from his position in the top turret, the most heavily-armed of the turrets save for the tailgun, where Felina Feral was picking off neogi spider-ships as the creepy eel-spiders tried to sneak up on the SpaceKat. “But, really, you never do. But you do kind of get used to living in the weirdness after a while. Makes it kind of hard to get a date afterward, though; people always expect you to be ‘normal,’ but you’ve forgotten what normal is. Makes meeting the parents extra tough, too.”

As soon as Ratchet quit talking – mostly so that he could focus on tearing through a Mammoth-class heavy carrier as it tried to close for ramming, releasing its host of goblin-piloted Viper and Hedgehog ships in the process – all eyes (except for Clank, of course – he’d seen it plenty of times before) glanced upward, to the lombax’s firm tush, and the prominent bulge in the front of his trousers that belied his rather modest stature. Noticing that they’d all been looking, all nine of the ship’s non-Ratchet, organic crew traded a slightly sheepish, knowing look. If they survived this mess, they’d all quietly decided that Ratchet’s dating problems were going to be solved for quite a while.

Snapping back to her task, Sasha sent a bolt of supercharged plasma right through the “head” of a scro Mantis ship that’d been trying to close and grapple with its oversized arms, shattering both of the clear ceramic “eyes,” letting the void of space come rushing in. Talwyn was holding her own on the other side, picking off swarms of kilrathi dralthi fighters as best she could, letting the few who got past her guns fall prey to Razor’s flurries of deadly gadgets.

[https://www.wcnews.com/wcpedia/Kilrathi\_Ships]

“Heads up, kitties,” T-Bone suddenly called back, his muscles tensing for action. “It’s the tyranids!”

[http://warhammer40k.wikia.com/wiki/Hive\_Fleet]

As the first fusillade of enemy craft fell back, their forces already shattered by the strident offensive of the SpaceKat (though only the neogi forces seemed utterly ruined – as everyone knew, there were always more orcs, whatever their breed, and the kilrathi were smart enough to hold back some reserves on their fralthi light carrier), the mighty Hive Fleet of the tyranids suddenly filled the black sky above the Superstation. Ratchet yelled a warcry, and was soon joined by all his crewmates, even Clank (but not the four at sensor, engineering, and communication stations, who preferred to hang on for dear life) as the SpaceKat dove right into the middle of the teeming mass of living ships.

Then there was no time for anything else except shooting, again and again and again. Searing flame and cleansing plasma tore through the weird vessels that sped by on all sides, and even Ratchet, T-Bone, and Razor fell silent as the killing lust came over them: the sheer righteous joy of blasting to atoms a foe that one knew was deserving of death, without quarter, without mercy. Such an experience was rare, for in all the galaxy, there were few enemies indeed who didn’t have some redeeming qualities. Not so the tyranids, a species made to subsume all others, to spread across the galaxy, corrupting and perverting all in their wake with mindless ferocity…a mindlessness powered by a strange, feral cunning that, at times, came almost close to sapience. Almost.

“Bughunt out there,” growled Razor as he watched his ammo depleting with startling rapidity, soon forcing him to turn to the energy-based weapons of the SpaceKat. “Impossible to miss – there’s no free space anywhere.”

“Just what they’ll do to everywhere,” T-Bone called back, his thumbs tickling the front gun triggers, “if we don’t stop ‘em now!”

How long that nightmare went on, none of its participants would ever be able to say. Was it mere seconds? Perhaps minutes? Hours? Days? Everything turned into a blur, with grotesque, organic shapes lunging into view, only to vanish in a spray of alien gore. Some of them even smacked against the ship itself, slurping greedily on its outer hull before Razor or Clank deployed the various ship defenses against just such attacks, searing these hangers-on with acid, jolting them with electricity, or burning them off with superheated surfaces. For a moment, the nightmare parted, and a vast ship of cyclopean proportions swung into view before the goo-stained front viewscreen: a hive ship, the flagship of the biofleet. Razor and T-Bone and Ratchet fired at the same time, tearing a hole in the forecastle of the bizarre living craft, before the SpaceKat plunged inside, guns sizzling all around. From the outside, the ghastly leviathan of space spouted bursts of many-colored flame as its surface blistered and then popped, first in one place, then in another, until, suddenly, the rear of the vessel exploded in a spray of viscous humors, the SpaceKat bursting out like the leavings of an unnatural birth. A moment longer passed, while the SpaceKat swung around, and suddenly the skies above the Superstation were filled with all-encompasing, cleansing light, as the hive ship detonated in a display that would have consumed any nearby planets, had the Superstation and its enhanced shields not been between the tyranid flagship and War World, absorbing most of the blast.

“That…got kind of hairy,” panted Ratchet, tilting his cap back to wipe his forehead.

“Just another business day for us,” laughed T-Bone, turning to give his crew, Razor first, a thumbs-up.

“You said it, T-Bone,” Razor replied, returning the thumbs-up, before the rest of the crew, one by one, also mirrored the gesture.

“Like a game of Life Force,” Clank replied, as smugly calm as ever. “Nothing too unusual.”

[https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salamander\_(video\_game)]

[60% chance of success – rolled 33 – success #1! – new chance of success is 65%]

“Systems are functioning at two-thirds,” Angela reported, her face grave as she unbuckled from her station, slipping her feet into magnetic shoes as she stood up. “We took some serious hits while we were tearing up the insides of that monster. The autorepair systems can’t handle them all, so I’m going to have to do some of it by hand.”

“Disengaging to assist,” reported Clank, dropping from his position attached to the central computer of the SpaceKat.

“Okay,” T-Bone called back as he finished swinging the SpaceKat around. “You get on that, but hurry: looks like our friends haven’t finished with us yet!”

Scorpion-class orc vessels and heavy jalthi fighters screaming toward them, and bursting in flames before the combined firepower of the SpaceKat’s guns, Felina making sure nothing survived the first pass from her position on the tailgun, the enemy forces were bloodied, but hardly broken. At least, not yet. But Ratchet’s unconventional thinking suddenly came to the fore, as a grin spread across his face.

“T-Bone!” he called down from the top gun. “Make for those big ships on the outskirts of the fight!”

“The Dark Eldar cruiser, and the kilrathi carrier?” Razor asked, blinking in surprise, the blank white of his helmet’s eyeholes mirroring the expression perfectly. “That’s nuts! This is a dogfighting craft, not a bomber. We’re made for handling small craft, or maybe something big if we hit it in its soft spots, like the insides of that hive ship. In a full-frontal assault, we’ll be sitting dogs!”

“Sounds like my kind of challenge,” T-Bone declared, revving up the mighty afterburners. “Strap in tight, kitties and cats – we’re about to get wet!”

They shouldn’t have survived. Nothing could.

And they didn’t.

*

…go down easy!

Talwyn was the one who came up with the plan, the Markazian’s time as a part-time pirate having given her insight into handling vessels that were simply too large for a light raiding ship to handle under normal circumstances. Her plan: attack the engines of the fralthi. Circling around, though it required them to plow through another wave of ork claw-ram ships, which tore long scours in the hull (Clank and Angela’s fast work the only thing keeping a full hull breach from taking place in more than a few instances), T-Bone coaxed the SpaceKat right up on the rear of the big kilrathi carrier, its big, bright aft thrusters filling up the viewscreen before them like a cluster of suns.

“Well,” said Ratchet with a careless smile as he flipped up the cover of the missile control trigger on top of his joystick, “here goes nothing.”

[65% chance of success – rolled 40 – success #2! – new chance of success is 70%]

BOOM

In space, of course, there wasn’t enough air to carry sound, and the fralthi was indeed far enough from the thin atmosphere of the Superstation that the sudden explosion of its rear exhaust ports, as Ratchet’s impossibly lucky shot slipped up one of them, passing by all of the many missile defenses and flak guns through some mysterious miracle, didn’t make a sound. But everyone on board the SpaceKat watching could feel the explosion in their bones, and could imagine it with crystal clarity. Even Clank.

But the miracle didn’t end there. Rather than simply exploding into space gasses and debris, the fralthi had apparently been hit at just the right angle, which caused it to veer as it began breaking up, so that, when it did finally explode, its pointed nose had mashed hard into the side of the Dark Eldar torture-class cruiser, sending both ships careering downward, toward the surface of the Superstation, their escort of vodoni werewolf- and nightwolf-class ships pulled along with them in the gravitic wake.

“We made it,” said Angela Cross, looking up from where she’d been bent over (rather fetchingly, it had to be admitted) at her desperate repairs, her expression one of stark disbelief. “I don’t know how, but we made it.”

“Indeed,” Clank chipped in with his assessment. “By all logic, that shouldn’t have worked.”

“I’m just glad everybody we shot down in those dogfights landed on the Superstation,” said Ratchet, leaning back in his seat, relief taking all strength from his body as the adrenaline of the moment started to filter out of his bloodstream. “With us up here, and them down there. I’ve gotta say, I wouldn’t want to meet any of ‘em face-to-face after the string of luck we’ve been having. I’ve yet to meet a grounded pilot with a sense of humor.”

“The place is probably crawling with kilrathi ground troops, too,” added Sasha, ever the practical one. “To say nothing of the vodoni and orks and scro. That’s most of what was probably on that light carrier, after all. We’re only lucky that most of the tyranids burned up in space. There’s no telling what would happen if their kind made planetfall.”

“Now it’s just some mopping up work,” T-Bone declared with a broad grin. “Basic monkey work, if you’ll pardon the expression. From here on out, it’s gonna be smooth…gah!”

“Crows!” exclaimed Ratchet in shock. “Crows in space!”

[http://capcom.wikia.com/wiki/Crow\_(Resident\_Evil)]

It was true: the entire region around the SpaceKat was suddenly filled with an innumerable host of feathery black bodies, slapping against the sides of the badly-damaged craft. Impossibly, their beaks and talons managed to score the hull, leaving deep gouges where they passed.

“Engaging shock field!” Razor yelled, and blue flashes of light filled the black sky all around them, as the zombified avians screeched loudly in the thin atmosphere of the Superstation, and burst into flames, falling away.

“That was too close,” panted Felina, wrapping duct tape around one of the heat pumps of her tailgun, which had ruptured in the course of the fight from too much heavy use…and abuse. “We’re…we’re not gonna be able to make it back to our starbase, will we?” she suddenly asked, turning around to look at the others. Nobody met her eyes.

“We’ll just have to set down on the planet,” Clank decided, his ability to never lose hope helping the others to rally around his words.

“All right,” declared Dr. Sinian, calling up a map of the planet below onto her screens. “Hmm, this place is simply ripe for archeological studies: there’s so many old civilizations visible to a simple scan, and nobody’s done a thing to investigate any of them!”

“Abby!” Razor and T-Bone yelled in unison.

“Oh! Right, right! Let me see…ah, I think our best bet for a landing would be…”

“Brace yourselves!”

It was Ann Gora who cried out. All eyes faced forward at once, only to be greeted by a massive figure, its body bright red and dripping with strange fluids, its eyes a blazing bright green, which glowed from the inside of its mouth as well, from which a copious stream of sizzling acidic drool constantly dripped.

“What is that thing?!” exclaimed Ratchet.

[http://www.game-art-hq.com/56510/abyss-from-marvel-vs-capcom-2-art-and-infos-about-the-mvc2-boss/]

“It appears to be a living dimensional disturbance,” Clank answered, as calm as ever. “A ‘demon,’ if you will. My databanks tell me that various heroes have encountered this creature before. They called it ‘Abyss.’ Apparently, it is very large, very fast, and can tear through…”

SCRRRRRRUNK!

“Well…yes, just like that.”

“We’re goin’ down!” yelled T-Bone as the SpaceKat started to descend, splattering right through the viscous body of Abyss, which reformed seconds after they plowed through it. “Hang on, everybody!”

Had any lesser pilot been at the controls, the SpaceKat would have started to spin out of control, and the inevitable crash landing would have utterly lacked the ‘landing’ part. T-Bone, however, had been through plenty of crashes in his day (thankfully more of them in simulations than in the real world, for the sake of his and Razor’s budget), and even in the midst of every warning light on his control panel going off at once, he didn’t lose his cool, not even for a moment. When they crashed, it was with a long, hull-scraping slide along the surface of the Hellstation – for so they could see it was, now that they were close enough for the fleshy protuberances to become apparent – and finally to come to a stop, both wings tearing off as they passed by some of the large metal-and-bone pillars that dotted the landscape.

“As they say,” T-Bone said at last, finally breathing when the craft came to a complete stop, “any landing you can walk away from…”

“Would have been better with an in-flight movie,” Ratchet finished, dropping down from the top turret, and reaching down to help Angela Cross to her feet, from where she’d stumbled during the crash – fortunately her magnetic shoes had kept her from going any further than the floor! “You okay, Angela?”

“Yes,” replied the lombax girl, clinging to Ratchet a little more closely than was strictly necessary. “But…what about all those enemy troops everyone was saying were now down here? With us.”

Before anyone could answer that question, the familiar hiss of a life-support capsule depressurizing filled the room, before a large-chinned, top-heavy figure with a familiar heroic swagger strode out from the cold sleep chamber.

“Ah,” said Captain Quark with his most photogenic smile, being sure to send most of his charm toward Ann Gora, the media representative on the spot. “Good to see you’re all geared up and ready for action! So…what did I miss?”

“I just hope there won’t be consequences for us not finishing this job,” groaned Ratchet, covering his face with his hand as he shook his head, already feeling the first of his Quark-induced migraines coming on. “We’ve slowed ‘em down, bought the planet below some time, but unless one of the other groups of heroes on this Station can get to its core in time, we’re sunk.”

[70% chance of success – rolled 87 – failure 1 – new chance of success is 65%]

*

Consequences, of course, were indeed taking place.

“On three!” Lita cried out, as the five Sailor Scouts tensed their smooth, youthful bodies against the bony protrusions from the strange flesh beneath them, the pillars to which they were bound visibly wiggling in their sockets as the heroic teens began to rock against them.

Watching from above, Krypto prepared to act, his heat vision warmed up fully, his blue eyes now bright red. Any second…

“One!”

Grizzlor moaned nearby as a red-skinned succubus looked up at him, all while greedily suckling on his thick erection, thrust out from his shaggy groin. The succubus twined spade-tipped tailed with another of her kind, and yet another, and more as they all bobbed their heads, greedily slurping on the circle supine males before them: Saurod, with his scaly shaft; Trap Jaw, his blue prick partially metal, just like the rest of him; Spikor, feline-like spines running up and down his purple penis; Modulok, with his many dildo-like attachments, all of them capable of feeling pleasure, even when they were detached from his body, allowing several of succubi to use them like sex toys, while a pair sucked on the two presently in place; Kobra Khan, his brownish-green cock surprisingly humanlike, despite his obviously serpentine ancestry, as it vanished into the greedy throat of another of the wicked Hell-born temptresses.

“Two!”

Ace the Bat-Hound grit his teeth as the massive, goat-legged Knight of Hell forced him down onto the creature’s obscenely massive pillar of red flesh, then began to bounce the muscular German Shepherd on his lap. For someone of Ace’s intellect, being so thoroughly used was simply another part of the job, and he could find some retreat into introspection and meditation…if only his own penis wasn’t so hard as well! Some primal part of him, the animal side that he tried so hard to ignore and put down, was enjoying his treatment, enjoying being raped…and enjoying watching the slow, thorough violation of Shadow Weaver and Scorpia taking place just a short distance away from him.

Scorpia arguably had it worse. On all-fours, her pincers bound behind her back by a length of organic tubing, her cries of violation were muffled by the brutally thick red penis stuffing her mouth, one of the Barons of Hell doing the stuffing. That wasn’t all that was being stuffed on Scorpia, of course, as another of the Barons hugged her barbed tail tightly to his chest, immobile, his hips working hard as he plundered her tailhole for all it was worth, her bootylicious bottom bouncing with every slap of his shaggy hips against Scorpia’s yielding skin. Below, mauling her breasts with his big hands, alternating with his mouth every so often, to suck her nipples until they were rigid, a third Baron bucked his hips, shafting Scorpia’s quim with the same gusto as the one sodomizing the scorpion-girl from behind.

Shadow Weaver, meanwhile, was shaking her head, the normally calm and collected wicked witch finally begging for mercy as she was lifted up by strong, white-furred hands, her smooth, green-skinned body finally laid bare, save for the hood encompassing her head. Supergirl and Stargirl ground themselves mindlessly against Swift Wind’s thighs, their tongues busily lapping his heavy balls, while the powerful winged unicorn positioned the feebly-struggling Shadow Weaver over his rampant erection, letting her slender green bum dangle downward: an inverted heart, dimples clearly visible from the rear, where Ace was stationed, even as Swift Wind turned toward Comet, letting the other stallion clearly see Swift Wind’s cockhead nudging Shadow Weaver’s puffy labia apart.

“Bet you’d like to have your Supergirl like this, wouldn’t you?” Swift Wind teased as well as tempted as he rubbed the squirming, pleading dark sorceress’ sex up and down his seeping cockhead. “All primed and ready for breeding. Ready to be your mare, anytime you wanted her, in any way you can imagine. A completely willing, eager pleasure slave. And she’ll just be the first. After all, there’s plenty of girlflesh to go around for both of us to have substantial harems…and more, if we want a colt or two to spice things up. Like that cute Bolt’s fluffy white tail. I’ll even bet arrangements could be made for you to have some fun with Wonder Woman. Mmm, now there’s a fine mare to satisfy any stallion’s fantasies. A real woman, not like these skinny teenage foals licking my balls.”

“Please,” whimpered Shadow Weaver, her glowing eyes turned up as she tilted her head to look at Swift Wind pleadingly. “Please don’t…no…no! AH!”

Casually, Swift Wind smirked as he pushed Shadow Weaver down, spreading her lower lips wide, gripping her thighs tightly, just above her knees, as he sank her, nice and slow, onto his girthy white horsecock. Shadow Weaver’s eyes blazed with light as she was filled to capacity, then she began to moan as Swift Wind started bouncing her on his lap, her smallish breasts with their dark green, almost black, nipples jiggling almost right before Comet’s eyes.

“Tell you what,” Swift Wind continued conversationally. “You help me bring down Wonder Woman, and catch my straying mare, She-Ra, and I’ll throw in Stargirl as well, no contest.” He temporarily moved one of his hands from Shadow Weaver’s underthigh, so as to engulf the star-spangled blonde’s very tight cunny and anal ring in one big hand, massaging them vigorously, until the petite teen was moaning loudly around her mouthful of sacflesh. “Still untouched…at least for now. C’mon, it’s worth it, isn’t it? All the pussy you can eat, and more. Lots more.”

Seeing Comet’s expression, Ace didn’t know how long the superhorse could hold out before succumbing to temptation. Swift Wind wasn’t necessarily in complete control of his faculties, of course, for the area was rife with corrupting infernal magic. Which would explain Ace’s own erection. Now if he could just focus for a bit, maybe he could think of some plan to get out of this predicament…

“What’s this?” cooed a sultry voice, as a large-breasted, red-skinned babe with bat winds and a spade tail sashayed over, flanked by two others, before the first wrapped her leather-gloved hands around Ace’s throbbing red doggy cock. “Hogging such a fine piece of meat all to yourself? And you call yourself a Knight!”

“I was *grunt* gonna share,” the Knight managed to get out, wincing as Ace’s tailhole tensed around his thrusting cock when the succubus gripped the Bat-Hound’s veiny penis. “Go on, help yourselves.”

“Mmm,” purred the bat-winged woman as she turned around, reaching back with tail and hands to grip the base of Ace’s cock, holding it steady as she positioned her bum over him. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Head snapping back against the Hell Knight’s broad chest, Ace couldn’t stop himself from panting as he watched his dick vanish into the wide-stretched tailhole of the succubus, as she sank herself down onto him, right up to the knot. Just as she was starting to ride him, timing her bouncing to the Hell Knight’s own thrusts, Ace’s view was obscured by the chalk white pudenda of another of the succubi who’d been with the first, this one stark white, rather than red.

“Good puppy,” praised the demon wench, fondling Ace’s ears as he instinctively began to lick up her astonishingly sweet, intoxicating juices, all conscious thought fleeing from his mind. “Such a good boy!”

“Three!”

Whipping his head around with what remained of his super speed, Krypto focused his heat vision down, seeking to cut one of the lines of power forming in the pentagram to which the Sailor Scouts were points.

But Red…Red was faster. Red had known! He’d known all along! A deft, hard tap to the side of Krypto’s head at just the right angle, and the superdog didn’t break the lines – he finished them!

Instead of breaking their bonds, as the five Sailor Scouts lunged forward, the “fingers” of flesh and bone jerked downward, telescoping back into the floor of the inner chamber, sending all five teens tumbling forward, hands dropping from their positions bound above the Scouts’ heads to the yielding floor of the chamber instead as they all fell to all-fours, heads down low, young, peach-curved bottoms hiked high as though in full presentation.

“Well!” screeched a high-pitched voice in a nasal tone, like the cry of a parrot given full command of speech, “Isn’t this a fine sight to greet us!”

Behind the Sailor Scouts, a gaping rent in the fabric of reality itself had formed, and through the portal stepped…things. Hideous things. Terrible things. Things from the depths of Hell itself!

[http://warhammerfantasy.wikia.com/wiki/Keeper\_of\_Secrets

http://warhammerfantasy.wikia.com/wiki/Lord\_of\_Change

http://warhammerfantasy.wikia.com/wiki/Bloodthirster

http://doom.wikia.com/wiki/Druj

http://doom.wikia.com/wiki/Maulotaur

http://doom.wikia.com/wiki/Demon\_Wolf

http://capcom.wikia.com/wiki/Cerberus\_(Resident\_Evil)

http://capcom.wikia.com/wiki/MA-121\_Hunter\_Alpha

What the two Keepers of Secrets look like:

https://halat.deviantart.com/art/Keeper-of-Secrets-Greater-Daemon-of-Slaanesh-560974631

https://www.deviantart.com/art/Keeper-of-Secrets-115733008 - better colors

https://www.dakkadakka.com/gallery/203947-.html - the other one]

Cackling wickedly, the massive Lord of Change stepped first from the portal, spreading its wings wide in triumph, even as it bent its vulture-like head low, eagerly inspecting Amy’s deliciously snug cunny.

“A sacrifice that’s a delight to all the senses!” laughed the towering blue-feathered birdman as he seized Sailor Mercury’s upturned tushie, rolling his large, rough talons over her delicate, alabaster skin. “Come on,” he called out to his fellows, the leaders of this vanguard into the mortal plane. “Come on – they’re as fresh and wet as it gets!”

“Tender virgin sacrifices,” growled the armor-plated Bloodthirster from its almost canine muzzle, sharp horns scraping the ceiling for a moment, before he bent forward to grab his own chosen sacrifice’s flawless bottom: Raye, the one known as Sailor Mars! “This one has the sweet stink of war about her,” he growled again, leaning close, steaming hot breath blasting across the struggling Sailor Scout’s moist lower lips. “Well worth leaving the pleasures of the Blood War!”

“More than worth it,” agreed the first of the Keepers of Secrets, a fuchia-skinned monstrosity, as much male as female, sporting a massive rack with ring-pierced nipples, and equally massive priapism. “My plaything should stay tight all the way through,” it added, caressing Mina’s perfect bottom with one of its humanlike hands, by far the most flawless of the Sailor Scouts, her legs like those of a supermodel.

“They all will,” chuckled the other of the Slaaneshian daemons, this one with a many-horned, bovine-like head, and far more masculine features…including a disproportionately huge bull’s penis, ridged along its top as it thrust out from just below strangely slim, almost feminine hips. “They’re superhuman; one of their shared attributes is regeneration of their tender holes, no matter how cruelly we stretch them.” Leaning down, the wicked, four-armed creature nuzzled Lita’s buns, slightly more plump than those of her fellows, but also more muscular, apart, then teased its tongue against her plump lower lips, tasting her. “Even after they give birth,” it continued with a knowing nod.

“No!” exclaimed Serena, jerking her head around, making her blonde hair whip. “No, you can’t! We can’t! There’s no way we can have babies! We’re too young!”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” came a calm, deep voice, as a final, massive figure stepped from the rent in space and time. “I’m sure you’ll find a way, somehow.”

[http://diablo.wikia.com/wiki/Diablo]

Heart sinking in despair, Krypto turned his head away as the great Lord of Terror, Diablo, seized Sailor Moon’s flawless, heart-shaped pink bottom in his mighty hands, squeezing and rolling her supple flesh until she cried out loudly. Krypto looked away just in time to avoid seeing Diablo’s mouth covering Sailor Moon’s cunny, the signal for the other demons to start enjoying their feast of flesh, greedily slurping and sucking and gnawing on delicate girlish cunnies, feeding on the pleasure they forced into their helpless victims. Red was there, a smug smirk on his face as he tugged lightly on Krypto’s chain, sending a jolt of weakening pleasure down its length.

“Did you think for one moment I didn’t know all about my adversaries?” taunted the cruel hellcat, pulling Krypto’s muzzle toward his barbed penis with one hand, the other motioning to one of the fleshy openings leading out of the terrible antechamber. “I made sure to collect reliable information about the Sailor Scouts long before they were assigned to take this Hellstation.”

At first, Krypto thought he was seeing a slim, dark-haired girl floating in the air, her skin as pale as the moon, not a stitch of clothing to cover a single inch of flawless china doll flesh. A moment later, however, he saw that she was being held up by a single ink-black tentacle, wrapped around her wrists, while she dangled limply in the grip of a spherical creature that looked as though it were mostly eyeball, an expression of ultimate despair on her downcast face.

“Krypto, meet Amara, also known to those in your business as Sailor Saturn,” Red introduced the girl, who lifted her head slightly, only just enough to meet Krypto’s eyes, before she dropped her gaze immediately. “Kuromaru has been very thorough in coaxing out every one of this young lovely’s secrets.”

[http://sailormoon.wikia.com/wiki/Sailor\_Saturn

https://danbooru.donmai.us/wiki\_pages/82284

https://www.xvideos.com/video20058013/mugen\_kuromaru\_vs\_sailor\_venus for an NSFW idea of what he can do]

Seeing the poor girl consumed with shame, Krypto felt only pity for her. After all, he’d also failed the ones he’d tried to save; who was he to judge? Red’s firm hand gripped the collar, tugging him closer, and Krypto didn’t even try to resist as he parted his muzzle, feeling the sharp barbs of that nasty-tasting catcock prick against his smooth tongue every inch of the way in. If he hadn’t been bulletproof, even in his weakened state, his poor red flesh would have been shredded!

Speaking of flesh…wasting no time, the five terrors of Hell had lined up the five Sailor Scouts, side-by-side, hips just barely touching as they were positioned on all-fours. Other hideous creatures crowded around, lesser beings of Hell, and creatures from the mortal plane corrupted with demonic energies, eager for a turn with the beautiful, supple teens.

[https://hitomi.la/reader/13083.html#46

https://hitomi.la/reader/13083.html#47

https://hitomi.la/reader/13083.html#48

https://hitomi.la/reader/13083.html#82]

“Get that butt up!” cackled the cruel Lord of Change, hiking Amy’s bum high, while arching his hips forward, his deceptively slim-looking mottled blue-and-purple shaft outthrust toward the blue-haired teen’s defenseless cunny.

“Prepare yourself,” growled the terrible Bloodthirster, digging his thick-clawed hands into Raye’s rump, before slapping his well-armored, chitinous erection down between her buns.

“This will be a once-in-a-lifetime experience, little one,” teased the shemale Keeper of Secrets, kneading Mina’s bottom, then peeling her labia apart as it rested its seeping penis against the blonde girl’s inner gates.

“One that you’ll experience many times to come!” laughed the other Keeper of Secrets, somehow mirroring the actions of its counterpart, even though it didn’t even look in the other creature’s direction.

“And now,” declared Diablo himself as he pressed his immense, bulbous glans against Serena’s sex, veins of searing fire visible all along its charcoal-black and lava-red length, “it ends for you.”

THRUST!

[https://hitomi.la/reader/13083.html#82]

As one, the Sailor Scouts raised their heads and voices high, crying out loudly as they were each filled, right up to the limits of their tender bodies. Soon, the demons were rutting them, thrusting like possessed animals, hips slapping against the bare bottoms of the doomed teens, making their dimpled tushies deform with each smack, bouncing and bobbing with each swing of heavy, sperm-bloated balls forward and back.

The torment didn’t end there, however. Rather, it had just begun, as the open mouths of the poor Sailor Senshi was too much of a temptation for the vile monstrosities all around. Instantly, Sailor Venus’ mouth was plugged as one of the demonic wolves leaped up, grabbing her head between its forepaws, then slamming its meaty red prick into her mouth, sealing her lips tightly around its suddenly-swelling knot.

Taking the initiative, fat-balled maulotaurs stepped forward next, and soon Jupiter and Mars joined Venus, stuffed from both ends, fingers splayed to try and gain some desperately-needed support as they were crammed more full of cock than seemed possible. Poor Mercury was soon moaning pitifully around the greasy green prick of a hunter, who gripped her blue hair in one webbed hand, the other clenched by its side as it force-fed her its disgusting length. Finally, a bloated druj’s belly slapped against Sailor Moon’s forehead, almost suffocating her as it drove its shotgun-sized penis between her yielding lips.

Spitroasted, held suspended on all-fours, the Sailor Scouts felt their senses failing them, overwhelmed with too much stimulation, pleasure and pain mixing together until they couldn’t be easily told apart. And when they felt the first heady gush of demonic sperm rushing into their unprotected tummies, they knew that their domination was now complete. This was the last conscious thought any of them shared, before everything was lost in a wave of raw sensation, followed soon after by total submission as they began bobbing their heads without prompting, accepting the rigid demon cocks in their bodies without resistance.

“So it ends for these little fools,” chortled Red as he lounged back on his throne. “As for the rest of you,” he continued, working Krypto’s head up and down on his barbed kittyprick, delighting in the superdog’s look of shame and humiliation, “if you want a proper turn, you can either wait for it…or you can go where you’ll be needed! My colleague, Dracula, could use some additional backup, I think.”

Waving his free hand, not caring one bit for the muffled cries of Sailor Saturn as Kuromaru filled her mouth with a viscous tentacle, another, thicker one wrapped around her waist as he ground her delicate pink flower over a rigid “horse” made of his own inky flesh, Red called another portal into existence. Instantly, over half the monsters that had come with Diablo flooded through the gash in reality, before it closed behind them.

“The rest of you are happy to wait, then,” Red concluded with a shrug. “I don’t blame you one bit. Now,” he looked down at Krypto, gripping the superdog’s ears tightly between his fingers, “where were we?”

[End of Part 1 – Halloween Edition! Trick-R-Treat, and have a safe holiday]