LST3K Ep. 08: The Fandom Menace

Malkor: I just wish we had been able to read the message again, my last drink is wearing off and this story is getting painful.

"But Master..."

Dark: Suzanne Somers isn't going to convince me either!

"Forget it, Deepee. I almost have enough supplies and fuel cells hidden away here. As soon as I do, I'm heading straight for the outer spiral. The Fempire will never get a hold out there. May as well make yourselves at home for a few days until I make the jump out of here."

****

"Welcome, Princess Leigh."

Leigh stared defiantly at the dark-robed figure as the Femtroopers shoved her forward and saluted before leaving. She stood tall and proud, ignoring her nudity that was now more complete than ever with the dark curls between her legs shorn away.

Dark: All over that bare pussy thing, aren't we? Somebody has a shaving fetish. Let's hope it doesn't extend to Lance's five-o'clock shadow later.

"I would expect one of royal blood and such lauded diplomatic skills to understand the necessity of appropriate protocol, even in the face of an enemy," the Empress suggested as she stepped forward, her features still hidden beneath the cowl of her voluminous robe.

"You will never win. We will fight you and your Fempire to our dying breath," Leigh declared, staring into the gloom of the Empress' hood where the woman's eyes should be.

"You underestimate my power," the Empress alleged.

"You underestimate the desire to be free," Leigh contended.

Dark: Running the gambit with "Words to replace said" here.

Script: But it's OK to drive underestimate into the ground.

Malkor: I know my sanity is being driven into the ground.

The Empress gestured, and Leigh was forced to her knees. "You will kneel before me willingly soon enough, Princess."

Leigh couldn't move at all, forced to stare straight ahead as the flowing black cloth of the Empress' robe filled her vision. The belt of the Empress' robe moved, untying itself. The folds of cloth slowly parted, revealing the body beneath.

Dark: Cue gratuitous lesbian love scene!

Malkor: Cueing love scene. Now, please people, try to look like you're having a good time.

Leigh gasped as the scent of the Empress' arousal filled her lungs. The body beneath the robes was almost unreal in its perfection. The Empress' smooth, tan skin glowed with youth. Her breasts were perfect firm globes, with stiff, perfectly symmetrical nipples. Her pink pussy was wet.

Dark: Is she perfect? I'm not sure you stressed it enough.

Script: Nonsense. You might underestimate her level of perfection.

The sight and scent made Leigh feel drunk. Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

Script: Here we go with the blonde stereotyping again.

Malkor: I wish my head was stuffed with cotton about now, this story might not be as painful.

She felt her pussy getting wet. Before she knew what she was doing, she leaned forward and stuck her tongue into the Empress' hot cunt.

Dark: Way to go! You found a word other than pussy! If only he'd expand his vocabulary a little beyond the dialog tags.

"Ah, you see, it is pointless to resist," the Empress moaned as Leigh ate her pussy.

Malkor: I know I'm moaning here, but I doubt it's for the same reason as the Empress.

Leigh whimpered and fought to keep her tongue on the Empress' pussy as she felt her knees lift from the floor. She spun until she hovered upside down, and then stuck her tongue back into the Empress' pussy to lick it, unable to resist.

Dark: Pussy, pussy, pussy... It's like a prize fighter beating you senseless — Geesh!

Malkor: With all that spinning, you better watch out for the pea soup.

The Empress threw back her hood, revealing her fiery red hair, emerald green eyes, and pouting lips. A thought snapped Leigh's legs apart.

Leigh moaned into the Empress' pussy as a tongue flickered over her kitty.

Dark: *Groan* Then again, maybe he should just stick with pussy.

She sucked the Empress' big clit, making more pussy juice leak out for her to lick up. The Empress' tongue moved impossibly fast, making Leigh breath hard as she got closer to cumming by the second.

Malkor: We obviously underestimated the Empress's perfection. She's so perfect that even breath gets hard.

The Empress started to cum, squirting pussy juice into Leigh's face until it soaked her hair and flowed to the floor like a river.

Dark: Niagra falls has nothing on this freak of nature.

Malkor: Is this Porn Wars or some sick Anime?

Leigh just kept licking until she started to cum too. She screamed like a banshee as she had the biggest O of her life. She kept her tongue stuck out all the way to try to keep licking the Empress' pussy as she kept cumming and spun around to land on the floor again.

Malkor: Yet more spinning. I tell you, that pea soup is going to be hitting the walls any second.

The Empress licked Leigh's pussy juice off her lips and moaned, "Welcome to the Fempire." She then walked to her bed, and Princess Leigh followed.

****

Vulvena grinned as the crimson clad Fempire Guards carried away the exhausted Princess Leigh. The coating of pussy juice on her face, quim,

Dark: *Gag* Definitely stick with pussy. Something tells me it's only going to get worse.

and thighs revealed her conversion was complete.

Her Perfection, Empress Nympho tied her robe and pulled the hood low over her face once more.

Dark: At her side, Dom DeLuise pulls a live chicken out from under him and demands, "Wash this."

Malkor: "I take this chicken from your hands, that I may wash it for you."

"It is done. She is one with us now. The rebel leaders hide on Orgasma. Take her there, destroy the rebels, and establish her as the planetary administrator."

"It shall be done, my Mistress," Vulvena declared as she bowed and then turned to leave the room.

As soon as she stepped outside the throne room of the Empress, a Femtrooper approached and grasped her breast in a smart salute. "We have located the escape pod believed to contain the downloaded data, Mistress Vulvena."

Mistress Vulvena's smile was wide and wicked as she commanded, "Prepare my Fempire Destroyer, and ensure that our newest planetary administrator is shown on board."

****

Lance spit out, "Shit,"

Dark: Memo to self — avoid snack foods of the future at all costs.

Malkor: You haven't paid attention to current snack foods have you?

and jumped up from his chair.

"What is it, Master Starseeker?"

Lance hurried to a terminal and cursed again. "Get in the ship, genius. We're getting out of here. You too, Mate."

DP began, "Is there..."

"We've got Fempire probes sniffing around us.

Dark: Am I the only one with this image of dildoes crawling around sniffing like bloodhounds?

Malkor: Get out of my head...

You can bet that there are fighters not far behind, and a Destroyer up there somewhere," Lance explained as he snatched up a few odds and ends to throw into a bag.

Dark: "Let's see — my Gameboy, some beef jerkey..."

Script: "the er Dildo's not mine. It's for Leigh — yeah."

"Then we're doomed," DP lamented.

Malkor: Finally, another drink! Just give me the bottle. We're only a third of the way through this travesty and I don't want to be conscious for all of it.

Lance kicked the fussy Attendbot in his synth-flesh ass and reiterated, "Get in the ship. This isn't some freighter or diplomatic transport. This is the Centurion Raptor."

Dark: Sounds like a really bad white rapper name.

Malkor: Like there's a good white rapper name. Remember Vanilla Ice?

Dark: Even Vanilla Ice was better than this story.

Script: Too, too cold.

Lance swung his bag over his shoulder and hurried DP along, literally pushing the Attendbot up the ramp into the Raptor. M8 cleared the ramp, Lance slammed the button to close it, and then sprinted down the tight corridor to the cockpit.

Malkor: So far the corridor is the only tight thing in this story.

Script: I don't know, Lance and the Dildo-bot seem pretty close.

"Mate, plug in and start plotting a course to the outer spiral. Genius, get strapped in and get ready to scramble the sub-space communicators of those fighters and drones."

Dark: "Chewie, put some Hamdingers in the microwave, I'm starving!"

He breathed a sigh of relief when the Attendbots followed his orders without question. He glanced at his readout and saw confirmation that the bots were doing exactly as he had ordered. "We're out of here," he declared as he pushed the final lever to bring the Raptor to life.

Sand sifted downward as the hidden docking doors above slid open. The opening was barely wide enough for the Raptor when it squeaked through into the light. The engines roared and the ship screamed into the atmosphere.

Dark: Squeaked, roared, and screamed — how do they hide this noisy ship anywhere?

Malkor: Sounds like what happens when strippers find out they've been hired by a gaming group.

Dark: Or a certain special individual with a thread for serious scholars on the Lit forum.

Script: *snicker*

"Fuck, that's Vulvena's Destroyer. You really are carrying something important aren't you Dildo-bot?"

M8 hastily beeped something.

Lance looked down at the translation and screamed, "What do you mean they've formed up their fighters to block every outer spiral trajectory? How could they know we would head to the outer spiral? Plot a course somewhere. Anywhere. Get us far away from here, Mate."

"Master, I am jamming their communications as you have requested, but I'm afraid that they recognize your ship," DP warned.

Script: "The radar, Sir — it's jammed. Raspberry."

"Just great," Lance growled. A series of beeps preceded a readout on his screen from M8 revealing that the Attendbot had found a safe trajectory for the leap to light speed. "Punch it, Mate!"

The Raptor lurched as it rocketed off into the distance.

****

"So, you live, Lance Starseeker. I'll remedy that soon enough."

"Mistress Vulvena, we have a reading."

Dark: "Cancel that and the poetry recital. Find out where he's going!"

Vulvena arched her back and let out an aroused hiss as she pressed her fingers between her legs. "Intercept," she commanded.

Script: "I really need that dildo-bot"

The destroyers and fighters leapt into hyperspace in pursuit as Vulvena purred, "It's been a long time since I castrated an Aura Knight."

****

"You sneaky little son-of-a-bitch," Lance growled as he realized the course M8 had set. "Too late to do anything now. I guess you got your way. We'll have to pull something fancy to get to Orgasma.

Dark: What about switching hands?

Malkor: As an Aura Knight, he should be able to do that without missing a beat.

No place else around here will have enough fuel cells to get us anywhere."

"If I may suggest, Master, it would be wise to activate your cloaking..."

"Shut up, genius. I'm the pilot here. Mate, put up the cloaking device when I give the word, and launch a clone drone toward Areola.

Dark: Bet he doesn't get it any farther than the belly button nebula.

Malkor: I bet he doesn't even get under the shirt.

Dark: He's OUT, halfway to second base!

Then get us to Orgasma. I'll hand off you two, load up on fuel cells and anything else they can give me quickly, and then get the hell out of here."

The Raptor slowed down as it reached the star system. Lance ordered, "Now, Mate," as soon as his ship slipped out of hyperspace. Lance smiled, because even his own ship's sensors couldn't tell the difference between the signature of his ship and the clone drone. The Raptor thought it was going in two different directions for a few clicks, until Lance flipped a switch to cut the ship off from the drone.

Lance kicked back in his chair with a smug smile. It took only a few minutes to reach Orgasma in his ship, the fastest in the galaxy.

Dark: As opposed to Lance, who takes only a few seconds to get to Orgasma. "Sorry, this has never happened to me before..."

M8 beeped an alarm as the Raptor approached the planet, and DP revealed, "I have distressing news, Master Starseeker."

Script: "Don't tell me. We're out of batteries."

Lance stared at his sensor display, which told him exactly what had the Attendbots in an uproar. Every male life sign on the planet was confined to a few evenly spaced locations.

Dark: Home Depot, strip clubs, and sports bars.

"So much for the rebellion. The Fempire got here first."

M8 beeped something and Lance read the translation. "At this point, we don't have much choice. You'd better be right, dildo-bot. Head for this hidden rebel base of yours."

****

"Would that you had brought this sooner, before all hope was lost," the leader of the rebellion sighed.

Dark: That's one long sigh. He must have sucked in air like a pearl diver to pull that one off.

Malkor: *checking rules* Oh thank the maker, we can have another drink.

"What are you talking about? You've got the location of the Fempire's cloning facilities, weaknesses in the control programming for the Femtroopers, the means to deactivate the halls of collection, and how to break the brainwashing of the Fempire. If that isn't hope, I don't know what is," Lance disputed.

Dark: We also tapped into their cable and wireless internet!

Malkor: And, I hot-wired the HD converter. We get like, a thousand channels now.

Dark: But there's still nothing on!

"We are too few, and with Princess Leigh..."

Lance turned away in disgust. He'd seen it ever since he arrived. With the capture and conversion of Leigh, everyone had given up hope. The whole situation reminded him just a little too much of his reaction to the slaughter of his fellow Aura Knights.

"I'm going to free Leigh," he declared.

Dark: No such thing as a free lay, Lance.

Malkor: Lance should know that very well. Only man I ever knew who couldn't get laid in a whore-house with a fistful of hundreds.

The rebellion commander shook his head and argued, "Impossible. How do you plan to avoid capture? You certainly can't pass for a woman."

Dark: "Well, maybe the man-boobs, but other than that it's all wrong."

"There are still men free," Lance countered.

"Gay men, unaffected by the power of the halls of collection. You would be caught immediately."

Lance glanced at DP with a crooked grin and chuckled, "I think I know the perfect way to learn how to fake it."

Dark: He probably has a lot of experience with faking it, but the women couldn't bring themselves to tell him.

Malkor: They barely have time to breathe, let alone tell him anything.

"Oh dear," DP moaned.

Malkor: Another Drink!

Script: Thank the stars! *grabs bottle*

Dark: Don't know if I need another one. I'm getting that Klingon attack effect from swaying back and forth, and this story is still leaving a bad taste in my mouth.

****

Lance felt like a fool, but he had to admit that his plan was working. Between his flamboyant clothing and the neural implant causing him to mimic DP's mannerisms, he scared himself. His hips swayed in a feminine fashion, and he frequently tossed his head without conscious thought. His hands felt like they were floating at his side as he walked, his wrists bent upward.

Dark: Flame on!

Malkor: Pardon me, while he's tossing his head, I'm going to go toss my cookies.

The Femtroopers at the palace gate had let him in without question, and none had questioned him since. He had to admit that DP's suggestion to wear a sarong over his trousers was a good idea. The palace was filled to bursting with beautiful women in various states of undress. Without that sarong, his raging hardon would have given him away in an instant.

Dark: Raging Hardon would have fit right in as a name in this crapfest.

The golden representations of pussies on the codpieces and nipples on the breastplates of the Femtroopers flanking the palace doors marked them as elites, the mindless shock troops of the Fempire.

Dark: Lindsey, Paris, and Britney.

Malkor: The Ho-ly Trinity of the Fempire

He hadn't expected to find any in such a remote outpost, and it didn't bode well.

"Halt! State your business, male," one of the Femtroopers demanded.

Lance responded with DP's unspoken thoughts, framing his answer in the effeminate Attendbot's manner of speech. "I'm bringing these two positively delightful Attendbots to her Excellency, Leigh. I discovered them wandering about positively lost, and I thought it would be an excellent gift for her excellency."

Malkor: Positively gagulous.

The Femtrooper opened the gate and revealed, "Proceed. Her Excellency will receive your gift."

"Oh, thank you. I love your uniforms," he gushed as he passed between the Femtroopers, swearing he was going to gag on the words and the falsetto tone of his voice.

Dark: How appropriate. I'm both swearing and gagging at the moment myself.

Leigh lounged on an enormous pile of cushions, dressed in a diaphanous gown that left nothing to the imagination. Lance barely managed to avoid raising his eyebrows in surprise when he saw her bald snatch.

Dark: Hey! A bald snatch! That's one more for exotic bird bingo!

Malkor: I just need to see a pole-sitting cooter to complete my card.

She hated the look, and he'd never seen her without a bush.

Dark: She gave it to the Knights of Ni.

Malkor: "And now for something completely different" Please?

It was yet another mark of her conversion to the Fempire. Numerous nude and semi-nude women lounged with her, and Leigh was absently fingering one of them as Lance entered. Leigh brought her finger to her lips to taste the blonde's juices and then looked up toward the doors.

Dark: Who were playing Light My Fire.

Lance knew he was in trouble as soon as he saw her scowl, and noticed six more Femtroopers in the room.

"You," Leigh growled. "Cease him. Make sure he lives, because I want the pleasure of castrating him myself."

Script: "Er...do we cease him or let him live? Make up your mind would ya?"

The Femtroopers immediately raised their weapons as women screamed and ran for the exits at the back of the room. Lance willed his proton blade into his hand, hoping he remembered how to use it. He hadn't touched it since going into hiding over five years ago.

Dark: Because Yoda told him that would make him go blind.

Script: Would that we were so lucky.

Malkor: I can fix that with a dull spoon.

Dark: Much more of this and I may want to borrow that spoon for myself.

The bright blue blade erupted just in time to block a ray blast from one of the Femtroopers. He instinctively angled the humming blade to reflect the blast back to where it had came from, striking down the Femtrooper. The clone fell inert, looking more like a marionette with its strings cut than a person dying from a blaster shot. Lance's training took over his body, letting him once more feel the Aura flowing through him.

He jumped, whirled, and lashed his photon blade back and forth.

Dark Duck: Ho! Ha ha! Guard! Turn! Parry! Dodge! Spin! Ha! Thrust!

Blaster rays reflected to keep the Femtroopers off balance.

Script: I'm sure the porn star heels had nothing to do with it.