You Get What You Want...Technically

Bellextra is surprisingly easy to track. For one thing, whatever that device is, it seems to be temperamental. She needs to stop regularly to make adjustments. Whether that’s just the planets natural hex on all sensors, the device is unreliable normally or a lack of understanding of how it works on Bellextra's part, the result is the same; frequent stops to tamper with her blocky scanner and a meandering path through the woods. The dense foliage provides infinite hiding places while the constant pitter patter of rain covers the sound of your footfalls.

Much to your satisfaction, the strange pollens in the air seem to be giving Bellextra a much more difficult time than you. Sure, you have a rebreather, but you suspect someone with a nose a sensitive as Bellextra is probably having a frusterating time coping with all the haze. Her dick grows hard within minutes of her touch down. After 30 minutes, she absentmindedly strokes the growing member while she’s fiddling with the sensor. An hour later, she sets it down to to jack off. It is the first of many such pauses in her search.

Not that you mind. The plants affect you as well. Each time Bellextra stops to touch herself is an opportunity for you to do the same. The first time she pauses to diddle, your left frustrated; damn bitch finishes so fast you start to worry she won’t be a good sex ****. Then you notice how she remains rock hard, even after ejaculating a prodigious amount of semen on the forest floor. After only a few minutes, she begins casually stroking herself again. The second time she lasts for longer, giving you enough time to finish before she moves on.

You don’t dare touch yourself unless she does and **** yourself to stop when she stops. Allowing your rival to dictate when you pleasure yourself is it’s own kind of ****, but there’s nothing for it. The plants mandate that you regularly relieve your urges and if you don’t follow Bellextra’s schedule, you’ll be too lost in your own fantasies to keep up. Also, there is the risk she’ll notice you if you start rustling around in the bushes while she’s not distracted.

Speaking of fantasies, unbidden visions of Bellextra’s future flutter through your mind. You imagine strapping her into stockades with a built in onahole, forcing her to fuck the sex toy as you whip her ass. Naturally, Bellextra’s magnificent cock will serve you, filling you up as you ride her bound form. Being the generous mistress that you are, you will of course share Bellextra’s gifts with your other slaves. Melodia will certainly deserve a reward once this is all over (after her punishment for not placing the beacon properly of course), and using Bellextra as a natural sex toy seems fitting. Alexa can have that dick too. She’ll take it in the ass until she learns how to be a better pussy licker. If that monster doesn’t incentive the girl, nothing will.

To your surprise, other, less dominant daydreams spring from your subconscious. Even more surprising is your indulgence of them. Bellextra victorious, holding your leash with her foot on your back as you kneel before your mistress. Living for nothing more than her satisfaction. Constantly being ravaged by the crimson goddess. You would be the most prized treasure from her many conquests. On one occasion, you manage to cum while imagining Bellextra holding your cuffed body down and pile driving you, your eyes never leaving her throbbing cock as you cum.

You can only imagine what Bellextra is thinking about. Whatever it is, it must be quite hot, because she eventually just starts to stroke herself while she walks. Impressive as that is, it proves to be a disastrous mistake for her. Barely paying attention to the device, and certainly not paying attention to where she’s walking, the fierce amazon, destroyer of warmachines and defier of pirate kings, gets snared by a trap. At first as she seems to trip, but then is rapidly dragged upwards until she hangs by both feet from chord tied into a noose around her ankles. She drops the scanner and her characteristic grenade launcher. A chord runs from the ground to a branch above that someone bent to the ground. When Bellextra tripped whatever mechanism activated the trap, the limb launced to the sky. It is almost laughable; screw that it is laughable and you let out gleeful cackle. For her part, Bellextra bellows in confusion and anger as you march your way out of cover with your rifle slung over your back and your whip drawn.

The barbarian reaches for a side arm which your whip knocks away before her hand is halfway there. At this point in your career, it is child's play for you to snatch away Bellextra’s various armaments with your whip. Darting out like a cobra, you systematically remove Bellextra of all of her various weapons as she reaches for them. Fortunately for you, she did not come equipped to take on an entire pirate ship, probably assuming that being able to move quickly would be more useful than a massive arsenal. After removing her grenades, knife, a seeker bola, and something weird you don’t recognize (with Bellextra you assume it’s a weapon), she is completely unarmed. As a final touch, your whip slashes through the shoulder straps holding her backpack generator. With a heavy thud the arcane machine drops to the ground. The power cord running to her gauntlet is ripped from its sockety, leaving the fearsome weapon nothing more than a fancy glove.

“Hey there, girl. How’s it hanging?” You twang the portion of the chord that is reaching up into the trees with one finger.

She moans in frustration, either at her current predicament or that terrible pun; it really doesn’t matter which. Your rival is before you strung up like the piece of fuck meat that she is. True, it would have been more satisfying to take her yourself, but you possess the necessary self awareness to know that could have gone poorly for you. “Natalia Demsys.” Bellextra speaks your name like she’s tasting it. “It is good to officially meet you.”

“Yes, our last few run ins have been all too brief haven’t they? Never enough time for a proper introduction. I’ll add that to the list of things to punish Melodia for.”

“You really blame her for that?”

“No, but it’s fun to punish her.”

She laughs. “I like you. You’re a good enemy; worthy of respect for your mastery of your slaves and prowess in combat.”

“And I like you because you bailed my ass out on that pirate ship and your dick was clearly created to pleasure me. Those tits are rocking too.”

“I’m glad I please you. A mistress’s body should awaken feelings of desire in her slaves,” she replies with a straight face.

It’s your turn to laugh. __“I think you’re confused lady. You’re fucked. Literally and figuratively. I’ve won. Nothing is going to change that.”

“What about the ones who set this trap?”

“What, a bunch of primitives? Ha!” Another laugh echoes through the jungles. “They'll probably be so intimidated by a modern pulse rifle they’d shit themselves before they could run away.” The laughter continues as tears roll down your face. Once you get a hold of yourself, you wipe your eyes. “They’re right behind me, aren’t they?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Probably outnumber the two of us, what, 50 to one?” Another chuckle, this one with out mirth.

“Mmmh, I’d say 20 to one.”

“Well endowed?”

“Naturally.”

“Kinky mother fuckers I assume.”

She looks past you with an appraising eye. “Hard to say. They’re mostly nude, but I do see quite a bit of rope.”

“Tentacle monsters?”

“Excuse me?”

“Is there a tentacle monster present?”

Another check. “I see no tentacles.”

“Well, I expected, more.” You turn to face what you can only assume is a new foe.

It takes you a moment to pick out the indigenous people. All you see is the jungle of neon lights. Then, lights shift in the jungle and you are able to make out the humanoid form moving towards you. Four neon green eyes stare back at you as you take him in. He is naked with a rope coiled around his torso and a spear in each hand. Tall, taller than even Bellextra, the alien towers above you. His skin is black as the void but he has spots of light that move around his body and shift colors; from bright blue, to pink, to green, then back to blue. Rather than making the aliens stand out, in this land of lights, the dots of light strobing across his jet black skin make the alien blend in better than any camouflage you’ve ever seen. It actually obscures his shape, drawing your eyes to the lights and not the outline of his body. At first it’s hard to make out the alien form against the jungle, but once you know what to look for you see dozens of them. You’re also able to make out his cock, which as Bellextra warned you, is massive, and has a glowing tip. “Oh joy,” you say to no one in particular.

The individual who approached you sticks both spears into the ground, raises both of his hands, and screams at you. His feet shuffle back and forth in a weird dance. “What are you doing?” you ask. He continues without regard for you question. You try again, this time to Bellextra. “What’s he doing?”

The smug bitch is stroking her chin as though admiring an interesting art piece. The effect is somewhat ruined by the fact that she’s upside down (which does some very attractive things to her breasts). “Well,” she says after a moments pause, “some cultures have challenge traditions. Where one warrior, hunter, or something similar is expected to engage in a one on one challenge against an enemy before his peers. This can be to prove the warriors worth, or it can be more symbolic of the greater groups strength.”

“So what? I beat this guy and then they let us go?”

“Oh, gods of lust, no. There is no single recorded incident of a group who adopts such a tradition being anything but sore losers. If you win, they will kill you on the spot. If you’re really unlucky, they will capture you and inflict grievous tortures.”

You take a sigh and turn to this individual. He has stopped his dance and is looking at you expectantly. “I think he wants you to do your own dance,” Bellextra offers in what she clearly believes is a helpful voice.

I can’t believe I’m doing this. Rolling your eyes you wave your hands around and shout “Ooga ooga booga!” Then you throw a flash bang grenade into the air.

You don’t wait to see if the alien’s gaze follow the grenade. You just close your eyes and cover your ears. The sound of the grenade hits you like a physical blow and the light it emits is bright enough to pierce your scrunched closed eyelids. Hoping that Bellextra is as combat savvy as you think she is you pull out your combat knife and slash through the rope holding her legs. Firing your gun blindly you rush behind a tree and hope there isn’t an alien hunter blending into the scenery.

Bellextra’s roar of vengeance provides all the vindication you need. Peeking out from behind the tree, you see a flash of red dive into a distressed cluster of swirling lights. Bellextra’s fist sail through the air. Much like the unfortunate aliens who comes into contact with said fist. Turns out, when they’re ****, they stop shining. To their credit, the hunters recover quickly. After Bellextra knocks down three of their number, the rest rally and charge the threat. Not giving them a chance to harm your future ****, you fire into the crowd. Stun bolts drop a few more before they can overwhelm Bellextra and then a thrown spear forces you take cover again. Knowing what's coming next, you ready your rifle.

Sure enough, someone runs around the tree, looking for this bizarre attacker who spits strange debilitating light. He gets a rifle butt to his gut and the next guy gets blasted point blank as he follows his misguided friend. Three shots drop two more enemies giving you the chance to cover Bellextra. The magnificent futa is spinning two spears in every which directions as her foes hurl themselves her. You don’t know why they’re so eager to get their asses handed to them, but you do your part to grant their wish. With precise shots, one after the other falls into an temporary coma as Bellextra dual wields her way to glory against all who come against her.

You gotta hand it to the hunters. They don’t retreat. One does blow some weird horn, but he gets shot in the face. The last hunter faces off against Bellextra with some deluded notion of honorable combat. He doesn’t get the chance as your final stun bolts sends him to the forest floor, releasing a glowing cloud of spores as he falls. With professional precision you redirect your aim to Bellextra’s face.

“Drop ‘em,” you say with a finality you hope is convincing. You’re confident you can shoot Bellextra before she can throw the spears. Less so that the stun bolt will drop her before she can throw them. The rifle has three settings, and your thumb rest against the selector switch. Safety, stun, and kill. Stun overwhelms the nervous system of most sentients, but not all. Given your previous experiences with Bellextra, you doubt something as simple as a stun bolt, or ten stun bolts, will take down your red goddess. Kill tears apart molecular bonds. Very little survives that. You don’t want to kill Bellextra. Your thumb trembles.

Bellextra regards you with an inscrutable expression. Every muscle in her body, and she has a lot, is tense. Is she wondering what you’re wondering? Will you kill her? Will she kill you?

Before either of your hands are ****, you hear an ominous chant come up. Keeping one eye on Bellextra, you quickly check the perimeter. Sure enough, there are pinpricks of light that don’t quite fit the background, clearly more hunters. Something is off though. Taking a risk you take your eyes off Bellextra and look closer. There’s another silhouette of mismatched lights. After a moment to process what you’re looking at, you realize that the reason it looks off is because it’s bigger. Much bigger. With dire momentum the gargantuan feature comes into focus.

There's the tentacle monster. Surrounded by your enemies is the bastard child of Cthulhu and a Tyrannosaur. Easily 30 feet tall, it stands on two legs one could be forgiven for assuming are tree trunks. The torso of the beast is easily as long as it is tall, and its total length is doubled by its forked tail which swishes back and forth as it walks. Instead of two tiny arms like the dinosaur it reminds you of, it has two large tentacles that easily reach the forest floor when allowed to hang low. One of them brushes aside the low branches that would obstruct its head. And what a head. The damn thing’s two eyes regard you with a pitiless intelligence and a ring of tentacles surround a lamprey like mouth. On it’s back rides one of the aliens, bedecked in neon body paint. Behind him lies a howdah, filled with spear wielding warriors. As the beast roars its dominance, the locals let out a cheer.

“So…” you say conversationally to Bellextra.

“Truce?” She replies.

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s do that.”