Heirs of Debauchery - Story 06

Story 6: Bluffing in the buff

The plumes of smoke, the flicking of the smoldering flames. The stench of burning metal and plastics, mixed with hints of more distributing scents. The feeble cries of the wounded and the crackles of wrecked electronics.

The character of the Eternal Scar would have screamed and raged at the sight, shoot an unlucky flunkie, and jump into her mecha, chasing after the heroes who had dared to raid her lair, kill off some minor characters, and either get ass kicked or the heroes escape by a thread.

But this isn't fiction, and the only things that Alexis Zelyonka had in common with the character she had played all those centuries ago was the face, the body, and the sexual depravity (or rather, adventurous, as she would like to perceive), not that the last part was ever relevant. Certainly she, the actual person, does not possess the callousness necessary in such situations as the present.

It was easy to go off on a script, play the part, and when it's all over, ditch the costumes, bug off the set and enjoy a vaguely civilized life in the nearest city. What happens next being in the good hands of the script and the plot, which was not something she particularly needed to worry about. Some of her fellow actors and actresses at the time were rather emotionally invested in the characters they played but she wasn't really one of them, it did help that villains are rather uncomplicated, especially in their expected behavior and deserved fates.

"Are you alright?" A generic feminine voice besides Zelyonka snapped her out of her wallowing of self loathing.

"No, I'm not." Zelyonka replied candidly, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. "But I don't have that luxury do I?" she asked rhetorically.

"Perhaps it would be better if you-" The gynoid began before being waved off by the ironically self styled warlord.

"We don't have the time." Zelyonka snapped, more to herself than to anyone else. "Get the sat link back up. Round up every operable vehicle. We ride within the hour."

"Acknowledged." The gynoid nodded as she turned, messages and comms already crackling over the airwaves once again, buzzing with activity and purpose.

With one last glance at the ruins Zelyonka turned around and began to make her way to the still undamaged underground hangers, with what passed for determination on her face.

If only she hasn't picked up that damn spam call...

------

"Sir, hostile contacts 30km and closing!" Sgt McCollins's voice barked on the comms. Technically the nature of the contacts are unknown, but given their daring raid just prior, it could not be anything friendly.

It was a stroke of luck that the raid so far had been unbelievably lucky: that all the enemy defenses for some inexplicable reasons were powered down or otherwise nonfunctional, and the only real threat when one particular bulky mecha, which was finally despatched after knocking out quite a few of group. Right now they managed to bag and sedate the pilot, who judging by her appearance was probably brainwashed or something.

Poor soul.

"Keep moving. I'll hold them off." Gerut Marshall VII, Heir of the Chosen One, announced crisply with a hint of bravado as his mecha peeled off from the convoy, filled with the slaves they had just freed from the clutches of the lair of the Eternal Scar.

"Acknowledged. Happy fighting." McCollins nodded as he cut the comms. There's no point in dissuading Marshall from such rather risky heroics, nor dragging out the melodrama. It's in his nature, it's his destiny, and he will succeed.

Just like all the heroes before him.

As he powered down the secondary thrusters and coasted to a stop Marshall flipped on all the ECM. Although drawing a lot of power, to the point where it significantly hinders speed in the event of any need to escape, it's worth the cost as it would also blind and fry any guided munitions...

... forcing the fight back to direct visual range, where victory will be determined by skill rather than mathematics and programming.

And he has no intention of escape. That's unbefitting for a hero, not to mention heroes never lose. Die? Perhaps, but good will triumph over evil in the end, and nothing more needs to be said.

As the dust settled around him he gazed through the main viewscreen, at the endless steppes to the horizon. A world where one is lost without technology or instincts, mostly instincts.

Then he saw it, the plumes of dust being kicked up off in the distance, and as they grew menacingly close the figure of a sinister looking mecha, clad in gray and coyote brown. Appearances can be deceiving, but there are certain combinations of shapes and colors that simply scream unwholesome motives. The massive clouds of dust, far larger than something that size should kick up, swirling all around certainly give further credence to its intentions.

He gazed down at his sensor readings, but only the static of jamming greeted him. It was not unexpected, welcoming even. It will be a fight to the knife, without the crutches of guided munitions-

Suddenly a series of impacts rocked him almost out of his crash couch, and every display flared up in the deep red of systems failure. The cracks of the rounds that hit his mecha followed the destruction of its limbs, indicating cannon rounds of the kinetic type. The implications of the accuracy of the rounds wasn't even fully digested in his mind when the crashing of the torso section of his mecha snapped him out of his daze, and he quickly punched in the codes on a nearby panel to open the escape hatch.

As he stumbled out of the crashed remnants of what was once his pride and joy he saw them: the dozens of tanks and other armored vehicles, with their gleaming barrels and growling engines. It was never a fair fight. Behind the tanks was that enemy mecha, now strolling in an almost casual manner, secure in its victory, savoring the taste of the kill. Its thin figure gives it an impression of a massive, metal skeleton, a single blood red eye camera glowing malevolently on that small, misshapen head.

Such was the speed and intensity of his defeat that Marshall didn't even notice the gaggle of humanoid figures that snuck up behind him, and before he knew it, the world faded away to black.

------

As his senses slowly returned to him Marshall was rather unsurprised at the predicament he had found himself in: Being bound and restrained was to be expected for being captured, and he certainly was captured. That was blindingly obvious, they could have easily vaporized him when they shredded his mount. If anything, the particular shots were made in such a way that they wanted to capture him alive.

For what would a villain be, without some petty gloating before their dastardly plots are foiled again? Surely even now they are ready to sally forth to break him out of this prison-

It was then he noticed the faint tremors all around him, and the hum and rumble of machinery. Almost as if he's in something large that's also moving. It has to be large, the chamber he's currently being held in itself was rather spacious, and that by itself couldn't be everything.

Then he noticed more things about his surroundings, as the darkness around him slowly lifted. The chamber he's in is not a prison cell or a dungeon, as he had guessed, but rather some sort of hospital room of sorts, with bunks and all sorts of medical machinery and equipment placed about.

The state of nudity he finds himself in as he looks down was the least surprising thing, even if he's merely confined and strapped to one of those adjustable table/chair thingy. So horrific medical torture it will be. That's a rather grisly fate if he doesn't get rescued in time...

Suddenly the hiss of a hatch being opened sounded off to his left, and as he turned his head as much as he could given the limitations he's under, Marshall for the first time saw the face of evil in the flesh...

... and the rest of her flesh, as she's completely naked. Actually, the maiden behind her is in the nude as well. The couple of male soldiers behind them are in full uniforms, which he noted weren't pilot suits, but rather combat fatigues and body armor, with their carbines slug on their backs in a relaxed posture.

"Oh, glad to see that you're alright." Zelyonka said in a somewhat forced cheerful tone as she strolled up to him with a thin and slightly sinister grin. "Sorry for the restraints, but you baselines are rather feisty. Especially when you think you can make an escape." To his surprise her expression almost matched her words.

"You're not going to get anything out of me, villain." Marshall spat out the words with all the bravado he could muster. It's a bit harder than it sounds, with not just his state of nudity, but also her's. She does have a rather nice figure, and even the massive scar on her face carved a rather dashing figure rather than a disfigure. "For the blood of the galactic savior flows through me."

"Oh really, that horny bastard?" Zelyonka chuckled with little humor as she gestured to the other nude maiden, who promptly procured a needle from nearby. "Guess we'll find out soon if that's true." Marshall felt the prick of the needle, and he stole a quick gaze as they drew his blood, with him helpless to stop it. "Wouldn't surprise me if that's the case though. That guy porked anyone and everyone back in the day." She said with a shrug.

"How dare you?!" Marshall snapped back, glaring at Zelyonka, expecting some sort of slap in return for his insolence. To his surprise none came, instead he felt a pair of hands on his dick, which was already in the midst of an not so voluntary throbbing hardon. He looked down, and saw that it was Zelyonka's hand gently stroking it.

"You sure do look like him physically." Zelyonka said idly as her hands gently stroked the seven inch member.

"I- I will not be seduced by you!" Marshall shouted with slightly strained breath, his will already in a losing battle he was not prepared for.

The words seemed to have an effect on Zelyonka though, as she snapped out of her trance and her hands quickly withdrew.

"Oops. Got carried away there for a bit." She muttered to herself, actually blushing for a moment as she wiped her hands on a nearby conveniently placed towel. She then cocked her head to one side, as if listening for something. "Oh shit,. It's actually true. Direct descendent of all things." She said in a flat tone of surprise as she turned her gaze back at him again, as if merely stating some pub trivia.

"What?" Marshall asked, shocked at the acknowledgement. It's not that he himself ever doubted his lineage and heritage, but to have it confirmed, in such a clinical manner, almost robbed it of its significance.

"Then you will find this rather... interesting." Zelyonka said with a mysterious and slightly sinister smirk as she snapped her fingers, and a holographic projector lit to life behind her. "We'll pick you up once negotiations begin." She winked, a mischievous act rather unbecoming of someone of her status, before turning around and strolled out of the chamber, once again leaving him alone, to watch the recording that had started playing.

......

It could not be true. The hero was not- never was, such a disreputable character. A rake, a fraud- no, not even that. A mere actor, for a mere story. There was no hero, no saving the galaxy from a vengeful force of evil. Just some horndog going around and sowing his oats everywhere.

It must be a lie, a fakery of its own, something to break his will, the illusion spun by the villain. Yet the seeds of doubt were not only already planted, but were also growing, the rationalization of his mind fighting a losing battle. The recording was simply so... real, raw. The emotions, the expressions.

And thus when Zelyonka stepped into the ER chamber half an hour later, in a rather pissed off mood after yet another interstellar sized distraction, the sight that greeted her was that of a man in between despair and raging at the heavens. The unexpected reaction quickly snapped her back into the matter at hand, and she quickly made her way over before delivering a quick slap to his face.

"Alright- enough of that!" She snapped at him. "Get a hold of yourself together. I didn't think that an ancient leaked sextape would have such an effect. Shit- it's not my fault." The words and thoughts stumbled out of her mouth as racked her mind for damage control. In hindsight, smashing his entire worldview without warning was a colossally bad idea, but it was just something the character she had once played would have done, and she had found herself sometimes slipping into that role in the absence of any other ready ideas. She was not cut out to be a real warlord, or villain, or whatever-

It was then she noticed his raging hardon, which seemed to be throbbing at her, as if demanding that something to be done about it. Of course, even as his mind faced the collapse of all he ever knew, his body reacted to the images in the way a healthy body naturally reacts.

There's only one thing to do, and with a slightly annoyed sigh she knelt down and took all seven inches of his member into her mouth without hesitation.

"Wah- what are you doing?" Marshall stammered as he watched helplessly at this- head nodding up and down, and a feeling on his dick that's better than any hands, not that he ever disgraced himself or anything. At least, not any times he would admit to.

Zelyonka didn't acknowledge the question but simply continued the blowjob, and after a few minutes he came, spewing quite a lot of his seed, though it's hard to tell as she swallowed it all without missing a beat.

"Alright. Now that we got dealt with." These Were the first words that came out of Zelyonka after she stood back up and unlocked his restraints. "Last thing we need is for your folks to accuse us of torturing your ass."

"Wha-" Marshall was about to ask, more by instinct than actual curiosity before the villainess yoinked him with a surprising amount of strength as she quickly led him out of the chamber, through some meandering corridors, and finally out of a rather large hatch.

As his eyes adjusted to the sudden light Marshall noticed that they're on the top of a massive hovercraft, easily the size of the city center back home... which is in front of them. The city walls that is, though they never looked so fragile before. He then noticed the massive holographic display in front of them, of which Zelyonka was having a shouting match with the city's elders.

"See, he's fine. Completely unharmed!" Zelyonka said, waving a hand over Marshall, making him acutely aware of his state of nudity. He tried for a moment to cover himself up with his hands before realizing the futility, and how undignified that would be. Paradoxically, he would look more dignified if he just ignored his nudity altogether.

"Then why is he naked?" Asked one of the elders not unreasonably. Zelyonka scoffed, as if it's not obvious.

"We had an accident with his jumpsuit while decontaminating him." She said smoothly, almost making it sound like a reasonable explanation.

"Well, why are you naked?" Another of the elders asked.

"The AC broke." Zelyonka rolled her eyes, not even bothering with any pretense anymore. Almost as daring someone to challenge her. Which prompt happened.

"Oh, and the white stains on your cheeks?" Someone on the other end asked sarcastically. At first Marshall couldn't understand the seemingly pettiness of the city elders, who he had always trusted in their wisdom and experience. With a start he realized that they're stalling for time, as well as trying to lure the Eternal Scar into underestimating them.

"I can flatten your little walled village if I feel like it!" Zelyonka snapped, with a fire in her voice that actually made all the elders flinch. Yet they stood firm.

"Then why haven't you?" One of them asked, his voice all the louder despite being said in a calm tone.

Zelyonka simply stared back at them in disbelief, and Marshall noticed that it wasn't the disbelief of someone questioning her forces' capabilities, but rather something else. They're certainly going to be screwed if a battle does occur, as he looked around he saw armor vehicles and mechs with their clouds of dust as far as the eyes could see.

They done goofed. The evil has risen, and she's pissed as hell. The fact that she's also really hot and casually sexual was completely unexpected though, but it's not like that'll save anyone's ass right this moment.

So why hasn't she attacked yet? Why this seemingly fruitless negotiation? He does not know, and he's not sure if he wants to know. He's just a fighter, not a schemer, though given that he got captured he might not even be good at the whole fighting thing either.

It was at that moment when everyone's scheming was interrupted as the heavy doors behind whatever chamber the elders had gathered in was kicked opened with great force, and as everyone looked quickly turned their heads they saw that one of the security guards was being held hostage... and the person holding him hostage was a tall tanned muscular woman with bleached blond hair, one arm around his neck, and another holding a machine pistol to his temple.

Oh, and she's completely naked too. Didn't seem to have hampered her any though, as she casually manhandled the guard like he's a mere youth, which he basically is in comparison to her.

"Ember!" Zelyonka shouted, with more than a mere hint of relief in her voice. She belatedly realized her slip up and quickly composed herself again. No mere feat for someone who's still naked and with cum stains on her face, but she somehow managed it, if only barely. Must be the scar, or the prodigious numbers of armed vehicles pointing at the walls. "I knew you could do it." She said with a fake smugness, though the elders seemed to find it rather believable.

The commotion outside of eyeshot certainly gives off an impression that things were not going well for them. Then again, the chosen champion of the Eternal Scar, and Marshall was pretty sure of that by now, simply waltzing in after clearly having broken out of her restraints at some point have certainly already driven that point home.

"This isn't good." One of the elders muttered out the words.

"Um, is the offer still good?" Another elder asked, not expecting good odds. To his, and everyone else's surprise, Zelyonka simply nodded.

"Ah it appears that you are finally seeing sense." She said smugly, putting her hands on her hips in the classic pose of asserting dominance. Once again, it worked, despite being dressed (or rather, undressed) for the wrong occasion. "I expect the gates to be opened within five minutes."

And with that, the holoprojector cut off, leaving only the whispers of the breeze and the faint growling of many vehicles, the former keenly reminding him of his state.

"Um... what the heck just happened?" He finally asked. Zelyonka sighed, as if dropping the weights that she had been holding for all this time.

"Would you even believe any of it?" she asked rhetorically, with a weariness in her voice for the first time.

......

He had to admit it, it was unbelievable, and under most other circumstances he wouldn't have believed any of it. It still is kinda unbelievable: Washed up actress, a planet filled with sexy gynoids, rebuilding galactic civilization, and they're totally not evil of some flavor and if anything they're all on the same page, at least on the abolition aspect.

The last part he still doesn't exactly believe, but it's not like he had a choice in the matter. Also it turned out that she, of course, had lied about his jumpsuit, which was returned to him in an even cleaner condition than usual. She had also lied- or rather, bluffed, about her forces: There were barely 40 armed vehicles in total, and the giant hovercraft was designed for housing mining crews and mineralogical surveyor teams rather than some mobile villain's lair.