LoK Wake Up (nude).
From Create Your Own Story
(Added more text. Will go back later and edit in Intrusive Thoughts.) |
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| - | Krystal regained consciousness gradually, becoming more and more aware of the thatched roof above her as she rose again into the waking world. She groaned, still half asleep, head pounding, and her bodies needs more demanding than ever. She slowly moved her hand between her legs, stroking her wet pussy as half-formed images of her violated form hold down beneath scaly monsters filled her mind. Eventually the fantasy of her mouth hanging open as the fucking began to overwhelm her mental defenses engaged her mind all the way, and she struggled up and sat on the edge of the rough cot, gazing blearily at the room around her. | + | Krystal regained consciousness gradually, becoming more and more aware of the thatched roof above her as she rose again into the waking world. She groaned, still half asleep, head pounding, and her bodies needs more demanding than ever. She slowly moved her hand between her legs, stroking her wet pussy as half-formed images of her violated form hold down beneath scaly monsters filled her mind. Eventually the fantasy of her mouth hanging open as the fucking began to overwhelm her mental defenses engaged her mind all the way, and she struggled up and sat on the edge of the rough cot, gazing blearily at the room around her, still somewhat delirious. |
She found herself in a somewhat crude wooden hut, chinked with mud and with some basic furniture scattered around the room and sunlight streaming through the closed shutters of the single window. A pot of some kind of soup hung above a small fire, filling the air with an appetizing smell. Briefly disoriented, she tried to recall how exactly she'd wound up here before memories of the crash rushed back to her. She began to blush a deep crimson under her fur as she realized that the Sharpclaws had almost definitely taken her captive, and she was still on track for getting bent over a table for some poetic justice. | She found herself in a somewhat crude wooden hut, chinked with mud and with some basic furniture scattered around the room and sunlight streaming through the closed shutters of the single window. A pot of some kind of soup hung above a small fire, filling the air with an appetizing smell. Briefly disoriented, she tried to recall how exactly she'd wound up here before memories of the crash rushed back to her. She began to blush a deep crimson under her fur as she realized that the Sharpclaws had almost definitely taken her captive, and she was still on track for getting bent over a table for some poetic justice. | ||
| - | + | Reaching slowly up, the blue vixen gently squeezed one of her perky breasts and slowly slid a hand over her warm, throbbing pussy. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad? She was definitely hot and ready for her punishment, and maybe if she put all the effort she could into working her hips and learning how to suck cock properly, they'd spare her ass long enough for her to properly stretch herself out... | |
| - | She suppressed a moan, spreading her tight pussy lips with her fingers and wondering how hard the first warrior would have to thrust to penetrate her, when she heard a faint sound outside the door. She reflexively tried to stand before falling back heavily onto the cot, her legs not up to the task. | + | She suppressed a moan, spreading her tight pussy lips with her fingers and wondering how hard the first warrior would have to thrust to penetrate her, when she heard a faint sound outside the door. She reflexively tried to stand before falling back heavily onto the cot, her legs not up to the task. The start seemed to knock her mind back into order, clearing the last of crash-and-heat delirium and she started to think that maybe, just maybe, she's find a way to escape without being violated into willing slavery by a bunch of foul-smelling monsters. She summoned her will and forced the aching void inside her to quiet, at least for the time being, taking stock of her situation. |
| - | + | Looking around, she noticed for the first time that a leather belt lay on a rough wooden table near her, along with a curiously curved heavy knife in a finely crafted sheath, next to her own knife and pistol. Curiously, she looked down and saw that her nude body had been adorned with gold jewelery and decorations, of surprisingly fine craftsmanship, that matched the decor on the belt in style. She slowly stood up, wincing at kinks in her back, and limped over to the table. The belt seemed perfectly sized for her hips, and the simple mechanism buckled easily. She walked a few loops around the room, adjusting the fit and wishing she had a mirror on her. She suspected that she looked pretty good in this get-up, a slutty barbarian queen or tribal priestess on a primitive world... | |
She shut that path of thought down quickly, turning her attention to the heavy knife. Curved inward on its sharp edge, it looked like it would be excellent for clearing heavy brush... Or limbs. The flat edge would also serve very well for breaking bones and busting heads, and all in all it seemed a nastily effective piece of blade-work. She admired the craftsmanship, excellent for such a primitive planet, and attached the sheath to her shiny belt. She checked her pistol and survival fine briefly before putting the modern weapons on her belt as well, modern synthetics clashing strangely with the jungle-beast leather. | She shut that path of thought down quickly, turning her attention to the heavy knife. Curved inward on its sharp edge, it looked like it would be excellent for clearing heavy brush... Or limbs. The flat edge would also serve very well for breaking bones and busting heads, and all in all it seemed a nastily effective piece of blade-work. She admired the craftsmanship, excellent for such a primitive planet, and attached the sheath to her shiny belt. She checked her pistol and survival fine briefly before putting the modern weapons on her belt as well, modern synthetics clashing strangely with the jungle-beast leather. | ||
| - | + | Krystal stopped and wondered why, exactly, they had taken her clothes and dressed her up in this shinery and then left her with her weapons. Were they really that cocky, or was she not a prisoner after all? She recalled the smell of what were probably Sharpclaws and distinctly remembered being felt up, and then blushed furiously at her almost instinctive response, feeling her knees go weak at the remembered need to submit to owner of those wandering hands in every way... Forcing her thoughts back on track, she reasoned that they'd most likely left her naked because they'd found her that way. Good thing too, in this heat. | |
| - | More noise from outside drew her attention, as a shadow crossed the door. She stood back a ways from the doorway, trying to get herself and under control and slow her breathing before confronting the owner of this hut. | + | More noise from outside drew her attention, as a shadow crossed the door. She stood back a ways from the doorway, trying to get herself and under control and slow her breathing before confronting the owner of this hut. Long practice easing her lithe body into a fighting stance, holding the pistol up and uncomfortably aware of the unfamiliar weight of the formidable fighting knife, ill at ease with carrying a weapon she didn't know how to use. Not at all like Fox, who would pick any old thing up off the battlefield as long as he could figure out which end killed people... |
| + | Extraneous thoughts filtered out, to be replaced by pure concentration. The pistol was held ready, but not pointing at the door. Wouldn't do to antagonize the first native she saw, after all. The mind she sensed coming reinforced this: Burbling everyday surface-chatter about the weather and daily life cut with curiosity about a blue figure whose identity Krystal could guess, and blushing, and undercurrent of very... Feminine lust focused on that form. | ||
<UNDER CONSTRUCTION> | <UNDER CONSTRUCTION> | ||
Current revision as of 12:45, 10 April 2015
Krystal regained consciousness gradually, becoming more and more aware of the thatched roof above her as she rose again into the waking world. She groaned, still half asleep, head pounding, and her bodies needs more demanding than ever. She slowly moved her hand between her legs, stroking her wet pussy as half-formed images of her violated form hold down beneath scaly monsters filled her mind. Eventually the fantasy of her mouth hanging open as the fucking began to overwhelm her mental defenses engaged her mind all the way, and she struggled up and sat on the edge of the rough cot, gazing blearily at the room around her, still somewhat delirious.
She found herself in a somewhat crude wooden hut, chinked with mud and with some basic furniture scattered around the room and sunlight streaming through the closed shutters of the single window. A pot of some kind of soup hung above a small fire, filling the air with an appetizing smell. Briefly disoriented, she tried to recall how exactly she'd wound up here before memories of the crash rushed back to her. She began to blush a deep crimson under her fur as she realized that the Sharpclaws had almost definitely taken her captive, and she was still on track for getting bent over a table for some poetic justice.
Reaching slowly up, the blue vixen gently squeezed one of her perky breasts and slowly slid a hand over her warm, throbbing pussy. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad? She was definitely hot and ready for her punishment, and maybe if she put all the effort she could into working her hips and learning how to suck cock properly, they'd spare her ass long enough for her to properly stretch herself out...
She suppressed a moan, spreading her tight pussy lips with her fingers and wondering how hard the first warrior would have to thrust to penetrate her, when she heard a faint sound outside the door. She reflexively tried to stand before falling back heavily onto the cot, her legs not up to the task. The start seemed to knock her mind back into order, clearing the last of crash-and-heat delirium and she started to think that maybe, just maybe, she's find a way to escape without being violated into willing slavery by a bunch of foul-smelling monsters. She summoned her will and forced the aching void inside her to quiet, at least for the time being, taking stock of her situation.
Looking around, she noticed for the first time that a leather belt lay on a rough wooden table near her, along with a curiously curved heavy knife in a finely crafted sheath, next to her own knife and pistol. Curiously, she looked down and saw that her nude body had been adorned with gold jewelery and decorations, of surprisingly fine craftsmanship, that matched the decor on the belt in style. She slowly stood up, wincing at kinks in her back, and limped over to the table. The belt seemed perfectly sized for her hips, and the simple mechanism buckled easily. She walked a few loops around the room, adjusting the fit and wishing she had a mirror on her. She suspected that she looked pretty good in this get-up, a slutty barbarian queen or tribal priestess on a primitive world...
She shut that path of thought down quickly, turning her attention to the heavy knife. Curved inward on its sharp edge, it looked like it would be excellent for clearing heavy brush... Or limbs. The flat edge would also serve very well for breaking bones and busting heads, and all in all it seemed a nastily effective piece of blade-work. She admired the craftsmanship, excellent for such a primitive planet, and attached the sheath to her shiny belt. She checked her pistol and survival fine briefly before putting the modern weapons on her belt as well, modern synthetics clashing strangely with the jungle-beast leather.
Krystal stopped and wondered why, exactly, they had taken her clothes and dressed her up in this shinery and then left her with her weapons. Were they really that cocky, or was she not a prisoner after all? She recalled the smell of what were probably Sharpclaws and distinctly remembered being felt up, and then blushed furiously at her almost instinctive response, feeling her knees go weak at the remembered need to submit to owner of those wandering hands in every way... Forcing her thoughts back on track, she reasoned that they'd most likely left her naked because they'd found her that way. Good thing too, in this heat.
More noise from outside drew her attention, as a shadow crossed the door. She stood back a ways from the doorway, trying to get herself and under control and slow her breathing before confronting the owner of this hut. Long practice easing her lithe body into a fighting stance, holding the pistol up and uncomfortably aware of the unfamiliar weight of the formidable fighting knife, ill at ease with carrying a weapon she didn't know how to use. Not at all like Fox, who would pick any old thing up off the battlefield as long as he could figure out which end killed people...
Extraneous thoughts filtered out, to be replaced by pure concentration. The pistol was held ready, but not pointing at the door. Wouldn't do to antagonize the first native she saw, after all. The mind she sensed coming reinforced this: Burbling everyday surface-chatter about the weather and daily life cut with curiosity about a blue figure whose identity Krystal could guess, and blushing, and undercurrent of very... Feminine lust focused on that form. <UNDER CONSTRUCTION>
What does Krystal Do?
- LoK Accept the armor.
- LoK Accept the armor, but remain topless.
- LoK Give in to her lust and remain nude.
Location:Liz's Hut
| Status | ||
| Health | Unspeakably horny | Equipment: |
| MP | 0 | |
| Conquests | 0 | |
Or, if you want to start where you left off, jump to a location in the story
