This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.
All characters are over eighteen and clearly written to be so, as in all of my stories.
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Samus cursed and wrestled with the spaceship, a larger craft that was not suited to being piloted by only one person. Her blonde hair clung to the back of her neck with a slick sheen of sweat and she wrenched at the helm, trying to turn it, though attempting to exercise brute force in such a craft was truly an exercise of those that had not realised just how far they had fallen, how close to the end that they were.
"Damn it!"
She held on fast but there was no stopping the plummet of the ship to a planet with a harsh, red tone to the dust, ridges rising and falling, a canyon stretching out into the distance. She caught of that in a single, long moment as the ship fell, trying to steer it, struggling with it, crashing as lightly and carefully as any person possibly could.
There was no crash, however, that would not jolt her to the side, crying out as she smacked into the interior of the vessel, her safety belts only activating a moment too late. They held her there, dangling and swaying, keeping her vaguely out of harm's way as the ship bounced and skidded, still going on with the velocity that had been behind the crash.
Samus may have blacked out then or not but time didn't seem to have any meaning left to her as she panted, heaving, gasping for breath even after the wind had been knocked out of her. The craft skidded, slowly, to a stop, gaining a cutting bit of distance through the barren, dusty terrain, two moons hanging in the sky above her, though it did not seem at all as if it was a true night there. Everything was as visible as it was in the day time with the moons, somehow, reflecting enough light from whatever suns were present to illuminate the surface of the planet.
Though the moons were not bright enough along with the stars that Samus flew among to save her from the women that came for her.
They could have been normal to her, if she had met them on any other planet, but they were not. They could not be, naked from head to toe with dark, rich skin, taller and stronger than she was. Their arms shot into the craft, half-climbing in, their hair tied back from their faces, but they had seen many like her before and every crashed vessel had, somehow, been taken into their fold.
Fighting in her flight suit, a tight-fitting outfit that allowed her easy manoeuvrability without offering too much physical protection, Samus cried out and put her hands up, trying to stave them off. She was about as effective as a worm from deep space, however, twisting and writhing and not really doing anything much. They loomed over her, grabbing her by the arms, cutting her free of the belts that held her there, slumped over the edge of the pilot's seat, and she groaned, rolling her head to the side.
"Please... Please... Help me..."
She didn't know what to expect, could not know what to expect, their presence dominating her, forms barely fitting within her craft. It didn't seem right, nothing seemed right, but the level of which her head was at gave her the perfect view of something a little "more" downstairs.
They weren't just women with shafts like that, a clear malehood resting at the crotch and down on every one of them. The leader stood tall, a folded, brown rag in her hands, though she did not speak to Samus even as she trembled and pleaded, stuttering her words as her tongue became too thick and heavy for clear speech in her mouth.
"P-please..." She tried, testing their grip, her nerve hardening, pushing on through the fear. "D-d-don't hurt m-e-e-e."
Alas, it was not harm that they wanted to bring upon her even if it would not be something that Samus wanted them to do, a bottle tipping in the hands of the leader of them, fingers tightening around her arms. Something was coming and Samus strained and jerked away from them with all the weak might left in her body, though even she knew it was hopeless, that sinking, twisting feeling in the pit of her stomach pulling her down and down and down. She had to fight, had to push through the residual effects of the crash, her stomach leaping and turning over, though it was hard, so very hard. There was nothing good coming to her if she stayed there, meekly compliant, and she set her jaw, wrenching back and forth, hollering and screaming incoherently. At least those words did not need to be coherent or understandable, rage pouring forth, cheeks hot and flushed, their muscles bulging lightly as they held her in place for the leader of them all, the worst plant in that solar system that she could have chosen to crash onto.
Something strong-smelling that she knew was nothing good poured onto the rag and she strained away from the leader, naked but dripping in finery, stones that must have been rare on their planet, denoting her status. Every other woman there was bare but the leader's eyes were hard yet kind, revealing much while nothing at all at the same time. The rag dripped, denoting her fate, something thick slipping off it as if it was so viscous that the rag itself could not soak up every drop. She twisted and snarled, fighting like a wild animal trapped in a cage, but she may as well have done nothing at all for all the effect it had on her captors. Samus parted her lips to scream with all the breath left in her lungs once again but there was nothing she could do as the rag was pressed closer to her mouth.
But they had underestimated her as she twisted free, a drop of the liquid on the rag splattering to her face - yet they were not strong enough for her! They had not had as tight a grip on her arms, allowing her to wrench free, breaking an arm in the process, lunging for her weapons, stored at the back of the vessel. If she was quick, she could do it, get them, get out, breath rasping down her windpipe, lungs aching, but there was nothing else for it: Samus had to try.
They caught up with her all too quickly, however, fingers digging into her arms with a ruthless bite, wrenching her back and away, slamming her down onto her knees. Although her kneecaps ached, it was not the worst of it all as the rag was finally pinned over her mouth and nose, ensuring that there was no possible way that she could escape from its effect and influence, screaming into it, fear giving her strength.
The leader's eyes remained impassive: she knew that she had her prey right where she wanted her.
She fought, her strength and energy back. Something to push back against gave her vigour and she snarled into the rag, wrenching her head back and forth violently, regardless of how much it made her head spin, stomach churning and roiling sickeningly. Her gut leapt and ached and she tried to cling onto her sense of reality for as long as possible, fighting it, drifting, falling, fading...
"Quiet."
The leader blurred above her as her struggles weakened, her mind thinking that she was doing more to fight back than she actually was, breathing in the substance on the rag, how the thickly cloying scent worked its way deep into her system. She had to stay awake, had to stay awake, even as the darkness clawed at her, dragging her down and down and down, into the unknown. It called her and she had to go there whether she wanted to or not, the faintness of her reality slipping through her fingers.
