"Warning: critical failure in the engine intake. Power to engines is lower than intended."

"I know that, you fuckin' scrapheap! Just deploy the entry barrier!"

"Warning: entry barrier efficiency at 40%-- there is not enough power to create the shield fully. Diverting barrier strength to account for entry trajectory."

"Fuck...!"

The rusted tin can of a ship rattled as it entered orbit, barely scraping through the atmosphere with only a little bit of heat seeping through the hull thanks to the adjustment in the entry barrier at the last second. The window at the front of the cockpit was obscured by clouds and exotics gasses but suddenly became clear as it broke through the cloud layer, revealing a sprawling landscape of bright orange trees and purple fauna. The pilot didn't have time to admire the scenery: he was far too busy trying to stop the ship from crashing and killing him along with it.

The small raccoon, stretched to an anthropomorphic shape and standing on two plantigrade legs, frantically pushed buttons, twisted dials and barked orders to the ship's computer, all whilst wearing a dull blue jumpsuit marked with hardened parts of armour around the shoulders and stomach. He was used to being a wild one and venturing out on his own, but he hadn't accounted for what a pile of shit his ship was when he ventured near the planet. The engines gave out before he even had time to recover, and now he was dealing with the fallout of the ship's freefall. Fuck-- he should have checked the engines before he went on such a long journey. This could have been avoided.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck...!" The pilot, known to many as Rocket Raccoon, reached out and grasped the manual handle that adjusted the ship's pitch and pulled it backwards, attempting to ease the ship upwards in its descent. "Computer, engage landing gear!"

"Engaging..." The computer mumbled its response, then resounded a deep hum a few moments later. "Critical Error: landing gear damaged. Deploying aerodynamic wings."

"For fuck's sake, really?!" Rocket screamed as the ship's exterior panels lifted and two distinctive, shoddily built wings eased out, barely half the ship's width each. The additional gliding properties of the wings helped a little but did nothing for the speed their landing. They were reaching the ground faster than Rocket could have liked. Cursing under his breath, the raccoon quickly jumped into the pilot's seat, clipping the seatbelt around his person and securing himself in for a rough landing.

"Altitude...3000 ft." The computer hummed. "2500. 2000. 1500..."

"Here goes nothing'...!"

The ship crashed into the rolling banks of a hill, skirted off the tip and sailed through the air. Rocket was knocked out by the initial impact.



---------- x x x ----------



Rocket awoke in a daze. He couldn't even tell how long he'd been out. 10 minutes? An hour? A day? All he knew was that his body ached-- though not from pain. The belts around his body securing him to the seat had all but protected him from bouncing around the cockpit like a bouncy ball.

A stinging in his head reminded him that even if he'd survived the crash without any pain, the force of the impact had made his head hurt. The pain was quickly receding, however, and when he finally opened his eyes he came to the reality of the situation: his ship was a wreck.

A jagged piece of metal had swung from the ceiling down, and was mere inches from Rocket's strapped-in body-- had he not secured himself in, he could have likely cut himself badly on it. As it is, it still managed to swing down far enough to prick his jumpsuit and snag the material, ripping a large gash right across his front. Loosening the belts around his person through their anti-jamming mechanisms, Rocket eased himself around the metal and out of the seat. It was difficult to meander through the rubble and debris of his ship with just his bare feet, but luckily the cockpit's window had smashed in, so he climbed right now-- and, unsurprisingly, another problem quickly found its way to him.

As he made his way out the cockpit's window and stood on the grassy, muddy tangled mess of the ship's bonnet, he came face to face with the planet's inhabitants: slender, tribal lizard people, predominantly brown and yellow in colour with an exotic array of singular frills that ran from their foreheads and down their backs, like fishy fins. Clad in loincloths and bearing painted symbols on their bodies, the group of around 20 warriors all carried spears, each one of them pointed in his direction. Rocket scoffed and reached for his hip, only to find his gun missing. It must have fallen off in the crash.

"Computer, power up forward weapons." Rocket spoke and was met with silence along with the chittering, rasping murmurings of the tribal folk before him. Fuck. The ship's AI must have powered off the crash. For all intents and purposes, he was powerless, and considering how scrawny he was...he couldn't fight his way out of this bare-handed, not one against 20.

With a sigh, Rocket raised his hands in surrender, deciding to go along with his capture for now in the hopes he could find his way out later-- these were only tribal people, so they were bound to be dumb as rocks. At least, that's what Rocket thought. Rocket made his way down to them and one of them tentatively approached, loosely yet gently prodding at his jumpsuit, perturbed by it. Rocket parted his lips to speak but halted when the lizard reached out with a free hand, grabbing the jumpsuit's torn section and tugging hard. Rocket staggered forwards as the jumpsuit was shredded easily under the lizard's strength, leaving the raccoon half-naked. Before he could even protest or get angry, the lizard was upon him again, ripping and tearing the jumpsuit off Rocket's lithe body as the raccoon thrashed and batted at his hands, shouting out in defiance.

No matter how much Rocket protested, he still ended up naked. He wasn't embarrassed by it, but the jumpsuit had been expensive and was also his only form of protection, now in shreds against the dirt. Jabbing the spear into his back, the lizards urged him forwards and escorted him, naked, through the array of purple and orange trees. Rocket scanned his surroundings for potential escape routes, but it was going to be impossible to outrun 20 lizards, even if he could climb trees. One look at their scaly feet and strong hands made it clear that they could probably climb trees too if they wanted.

Their walk was a little longer than Rocket was expecting, but they eventually reached a rudimentary tribal village, with huts made of branches and roofs made of those bright orange leaves. There were multiple fenced off areas of the village for crops and agriculture, which was surprising considering how basic these lizardfolk seemed to be. Rocket's appearance was already attracting attention from the other villagers, but his escort party wasn't leading him to a hut, but instead to a fenced-off area on the far side of the village.

"What, am I going to be delicious meat for your banquet tonight?" Rocket scoffed, and the lizard in front tilted his head at him, not understanding what he's saying. It prodded his chest and stomach and grunted, its body language making it appear dissatisfied. Rocket didn't have to guess to know that he wasn't exactly 'good food', which begged the question: what were they going to do with him?

His silent question was abruptly answered when a hand grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and tossed him over the nearby fence. He landed in a heap inside a pen of sorts, the wind briefly taken out of him. Confusion muddied his thoughts as he pulled himself into an all-fours position, straightening up onto his knees. The lizards stared at him from the other side of the fence, and Rocket turned to face a large built house on the far side of the pen. From its interior came creatures, quadrupeds covered in shaggy fur and built strong. They were larger than him by just a little bit, with large pointy ears that sat back against their head and beady eyes that watched his every move. 

From what Quill had once said about animals on Earth, they were very similar to dogs, yet subtly different: One instance was the ears and their general frame, with more muscle mass, but their fur patterns were exotic too-- a mixture of purple and black in thin stripes all around their body, their feet handing in white tips. Other than that, they were very similar-- well, bar the impressive lower fangs that curled upwards and reached their upper lip.

Rocket's first thought was simple: there wasn't enough meat on his bones for the lizards, so they threw him to their pets. This was how he was going to die. Could he fight back? Yes. Would that change anything? Considering the difference between him and these dogs...probably not. Instinctively he scooted back, moving away from the mas they came closer-- but the canines quickly closed the distance between them and approached their new toy with curiosity. Rocket was quickly and inevitably surrounded, and he scrunched his eyes shut, preparing for his demise.

He was surprised, however, when they instead began to sniff at him, taking in his scent and adjusting accordingly-- some of them even licked him, tasting his fur. To Rocket's relief, it appeared they weren't going to eat him and were instead exploring him like a new addition to the tribe. That meant that he at least had the opportunity to escape; these fences weren't very high, so jumping over them would effectively be easy. The only problem was the lizards watching him. For now, avoiding the canines and getting comfortable in a corner would be ideal.

Leaning forwards onto his knees and crawling across on all fours, Rocket did what he presumed to be the correct thing-- however, his actions sealed his fate.

The wind was blown out of Rocket's lungs as he suddenly felt the weight of one of the canines on top of him, pushing his upper torso down into the dirt and applying pressing to his thighs that he hadn't expected. These dogs were heavier than he anticipated, and one hooked front paw around his stomach kept him firmly in place. He didn't understand what was happening at first but soon found out what the dog's intentions were. The alien creature humped the air near his ass, sheath swinging back and forth before mashing between his cheeks, searching desperately for Rocket's tight pucker. A wet, hot tip slipped from the sheath and wildly prodded around between the raccoon's cheeks, spurting little strings of pre-cum as the rutting dog panted above him. Rocket tried to squirm free from underneath the animal, but he's too late: the tapered tip of the alien's cock pierces his small ring, and the sensation of a warm hole around its cock causes the canine to thrust forwards, blood pumping to its member as it rapidly grew inside Rocket's ass.

The raccoon did the obvious thing, and let out a howl from the pain of a sudden, dry intrusion, his body trembling from the act of being forcibly mated, and by an animal no less. He arched his back and squirmed, feeling the cock plunge as deep as his to his stomach, his insides begging for it to withdraw. His cries, however, were quickly muffled by the act of another dog, who moved towards his front and squatted its hips down low, sinking its sheath against his mouth. Rocket was tempted to bite down, but he remembered that these creatures had him in their paws-- if he injured them, they'd tear him to pieces. His eyes grew teary with anger and discomfort as the canine humped his mouth, its narrow cock pulsing to life and sliding against his tongue. The taste made him recoil, but he had no choice but to take it, wincing as the member swelled as rapidly as the one in his ass, filling his mouth and prodding the back of his throat.

He was well and truly stuck now-- if the dog buried deep in his ass wasn't enough to keep him stuck in place, his only escape route through the fun was now blocked too. Used from both sides, Rocket was forced to enjoy, body spasming from the pain as the canine in his backside began to rapidly hump and thrust, its cock sliding roughly in and out of his clenching, squeezing entrance, his innards clamped down like a vice. He could already feel the dog's fat knot mashing against his ass and he grew worried at the thought of being tied-- the dog was already too thick for him to handle. If the knot went in too, would he get ripped in two? The thought made him tremble with fear.

Both dogs were relentless, and the other canines around the kennel were sniffing around and wagging their tails to the smell of sex, eager to mate themselves yet waiting patiently for their turn, or at least it seemed like it. Rocket's jaw grew numb from having to keep it open as wide as possible as the bulbous knot pressed and squished against his lips, the rest of the cock sliding all the way into his throat. He had barely a fraction of a second in between thrusts to breathe, and it was barely enough for him to go on.

With each thrust, his body package swung, flaccid cock and tiny balls jiggling with each wet smack to his hips as the animals abused him. His ears picked up on the sound of wild panting and the chittering of the lizards on the other side of the fence. Though he couldn't understand them, Rocket had a feeling they were talking about him and likely laughing about his circumstances in one way or another. Either way, there was nothing he could do about it, and he sorely wished he had his gun. With every plunge, a searing sensation of pain surged up his body and made his skin tingle, but beneath that was something more: the strange, tantalising feeling of pleasure. It was dull at first, but each vigorous pound into his ass stirred his tiny prostate, and the pleasure of it was starting to get him hard. Frustration bubbled through him at the thought and for just a moment, he sincerely glad that he was hidden beneath the gyrating, mating dogs so that no-one could see how hard he was getting.

The wet sounds of their sex were becoming prominent, enough to almost completely drown out the talking of the lizards on the other side of the fence. Each thrust and tug was accompanied by wet slaps and lewd squelches as Rocket was used on both sides, both mouth and ass lubed up with spit and pre-cum respectively. Dollops of pre-seed in Rocket's mouth forced him to gulp and shudder from having to do so, and the knot mashing against his behind was threatening to tie with him at any moment-- he could feel it stretching his ring just a little over time. The pain was still there, but he was loosening up, he could feel it.

Through it all his pleasure grew, though he didn't want it to. The prodding to his prostate over time was growing increasingly pleasurable despite his attempts to push it to the back of his mind until his cock was aching and oozing pre-cum of its own onto the strange purple grass below. Rocket found himself letting out muffled grunts amidst being facefucked, tears trickling down his cheeks as he scrunched his eyes up. His body trembled and spasmed as the pleasure rolled over him, and he knew what was happening. His swinging member throbbed and twitched, and he abruptly painted the purple grass below in streaks of off-white cum. His insides clamped down as tightly as he could, periodically squeezing and milking the thrusting dog's member, encouraging it to plunge harder.

Each rough pound made the dog's knotting an eventuality, as Rocket soon found out. His ring stretched and stretched as the dog wildly thrust until the knot forced its way inside, causing Rocket's eyes to widen and his insides and clamp down hard. The alien, however, did not stop there-- it continued to thrust, tugging backwards and stimulating its knot as its balls swung and clapped against Rocket's furry cheeks, the raccoon's innards only aiding the dog's pleasure. The sheer girth was unlike anything that Rocket had experienced before: it bulged his stomach and made him weak at the knees, but he didn't have a moment to rest; the canine in front of him still abused his mouth and expected more, and based on its plentiful pre-cum that Rocket had to either swallow or let dribble out the corners of his mouth, it was close.

Rocket had no real way of telling exactly when they'd finish, and so any eventual orgasm would be sudden and abrupt. The canine in his mouth was the first to finish, a thick splatter of cum shooting right down Rocket's throat before the canine tugged back and splattered another thick rope against the back of his throat, causing Rocket to cough and gag, the seed seeping from out of his mouth. He scrunched up his eyes and endured, cheeks watery from all manner of substances as he felt the canine's tender knot throbbing against his lips, the raccoon's body jiggling and trembling from the canine in his ass still wildly humping and enjoying him. The dog in front of him teetered, hiking its leg up and stepping over and around him, withdrawing from his mouth and trotting off to the side, apparently done with him. Rocket was thankful for the fresh air, but his mouth tasted of salty cum and his chin dripped with the animal's efforts. He spat it out onto the ground and winced, toes curling from the discomfort of being tied. He had no way out.

The canine behind him shifted, hiking its leg up and turning to the side, eventually standing away from him completely with the knot still inside. Rocket was confused as to why, but it became apparent by the way the canine's cum spurted inside of him, to the point where the warmth could be felt in his belly, that this was the alien canine's most efficient way of passing on its seed. Rocket grumbled and reached down to stroke his stomach, his ring sore and numb from such a vigorous pounding. The dog made no intentions to move and simply stood there, its bright red tongue lolling from its mouth as it wildly panted, pleased with itself.

Rocket wondered if it was over, but one quick glance around him said otherwise. It hadn't even been long since the canine who'd throat-fucked him had moved away, but another was already approaching, sniffing around his mouth before launching up and occupying the now empty space of his back. Rocket was forced to steady himself on his hands and keep himself propped up, else his body would give way. He angled his head to the side as the sheath came into view, and the tapering end of the cock prodded his cheek, searching for a hole. The member slid out more as the dog humped, dragging wildly along Rocket's cheek and down towards his chin as the animal's fuzzy balls bounced and wobbled with each subtle movement.

Rocket thought that the dog might eventually relent and he'd get some time to rest, but instead, the canine's back paw came forwards in a sudden and instinctive fashion, hiking up and clawing at Rocket's shoulder in an attempt to find proper purchase. The back paw swiped to the right as it moved down and Rocket twisted his head back straight to avoid having his eye gouged out, just in time for the creature to hump and meet its sheath with his lips. Rocket tried to angle his head the other way, but the dog forcefully pushed, causing Rocket's lips to part and sinking his member inside, tugging his sheath back where it met with Rocket's teeth. The canine didn't hesitate and affirmed its position, teetering its legs forward and starting to hump. Rocket scrunched his eyes up and braced himself for another round.

It was much like before-- after all, the way a dog breeds isn't that much different from one individual to the other. This one's member was just as long as the last and Rocket's throat was relentlessly used in the pursuit of mating and creating puppies, though the dogs were clearly not intelligent enough to realise the object of their playful and eager sex wasn't even a female. As the canine fucked him, Rocket was vividly aware of the other still pumping spurt after spurt of animal cum into his backside, coating his innards and making his stomach swell, if only a little. Rocket found himself getting used to the cock in his ass, for the most part; the discomfort was prominent but the pain had all but faded now that the canine had stopped bucking so roughly. The only thing it left Rocket to wonder is when it would untie from his scrawny body.

After a few minutes and all of a sudden, the canine behind him abruptly began to move, tugging on its knot with more force than before. Rocket instinctively clenched before he tried to loosen himself up, a muffled groan of relief escaping him when the knot slid past his searing ring and out completely, the dog untying from him. The first thing he felt was the warm, gooey mess of the animal's orgasm leaking from his stretched hole and dribbling down between his legs, dripping off his balls and seeping into the fur around his inner thighs. Soon after that, amidst his focus on the canine's pistoning cock in front of him, he felt the warm, wet tongue of another lapping at his ass, slurping up and tasting the nut of one of its own species. Rocket didn't want to admit it, but the rimming felt pleasurable-- the tongue was wide and wet, and its lapping soothed the pain he felt in his ass. However, as the saying goes, even good things aren't meant to last.

The tongue withdrew and was soon replaced by the weight of another dog. Rocket knew what was coming, but he had no way to stop it, the dog in front of him keeping him firmly in place. Once more another sheath smeared between his cheeks, easily lubed up by the dripping cum, and once again another cock surged forwards and into his ass, stretching his already used and sore ass once more. Rocket cried out, muffled, from around the cock in his mouth, but his protesting wails fell on deaf ears. The two dogs clamoured and struggled to find a good spot that would accommodate the two of them, but they eventually found it and continued their heinous, carnal and natural act as Rocket sat on all fours between them, yet again forced to take it.

Rocket knew that once they were done, another could come to replace them, and then another, and another. Would he ever get rest? Would he ever get out of here? He didn't know-- for now, all he could do was endure, and hope for a chance to escape.



---------- x x x ----------



They didn't finish for hours. When they eventually did, Rocket didn't even have to strength to lift himself up off the ground. That made it easy for the tribal Lizards to enter the pen and tie a rope around his neck before attaching said rope to the outside of the kennel. It was long enough for him to reach the far end of the pen they were stuck in, but it was tied tightly enough to keep him there. By the time he eventually found the strength the move, the dogs wanted another round.

He started counting the days at first. He wasn't going to get out of this himself without a weapon, so maybe Quill or someone else would come for him-- so he waited. One day turned to two. Two turned to three, then a week, then a month, then several months. Eventually, he lost count of how long it'd been and gave up. Each day was filled with sex, with being used at both ends. The only time he ever got any rest was at night when the dogs went to sleep, all bundled up in their little kennel house. During those times he tried to escape, but the lizards caught him every time. At first, they were just annoyed with him trying to run off. Some injured him keep him in the bed, cutting his legs or beating him senselessly until he didn't have to strength to stand. Others saw what he was typically used for and tasted it for themselves, making good use of him before throwing him back where he'd come from. All Rocket knew was to be fucked. Eventually, it became his only use, and so he stopped trying to run.

He started to slowly, subconsciously accept his new life when the possibility of escape became impossible. He stuck to the kennels, hiding inside them and pleasing dog day after day. Sometimes he was less than willing and they used him as they liked, sometimes on all fours and sometimes on their side. Other times he was willing, even eager, pleasing them with every available limb and in all manner of positions. Whenever his fur became too dirty, the lizards would drag him out of the kennel house and chuck water on him. They started to treat him like just another dog, manhandling him around and teaching him tricks. 

They never 'trained' him to be a combat dog like the others, but they didn't treat him like a villager either. They offered him treats, but he was never allowed proper food. The slop they fed the dogs wasn't for him, so he sustained himself off their cum alone. The few times that the lizards would show him affection, he tried to please them sexually-- that's just how broken Rocket was. His life became nothing but servitude and degradation until his mind blocked out everything else but how to act like a dog.

The lizards eventually brought in females as some of the older dogs died off and the population of the tribe grew. Rocket grew jealous of them, for the dogs evidently enjoyed them more than they enjoyed him, even if he was still getting attention now and again. When the females became pregnant, Rocket decided it was fine-- that, in time, there would be more dogs to play with, more of 'his kind' to please.

The realities of his past life slowly faded away with him as his mind became conditioned to his new life. Some years passed, though he couldn't remember how many, and slowly his mind adjusted to his new life and the memories of his previous comrades, and even why he'd come to his planet were forgotten, and he eventually stopped talking altogether and communicated with the other dogs in a series of growls and barks. Satisfied that he was never going to escape again, the lizards eventually didn't even need to tie him up, and he was allowed to roam free in the pen. But he still kept to the kennel house, allowing himself and even begging to be used over and over as the new pups turned into needy, pent-up adults. He went from pleasing two at once to even using his hands to please 3, even or if he was mobile enough. His ass got used to taking so many cocks that he could fit two at once in there if the position was right.

At night, he'd sometimes sleep, and sometimes he'd catch a lizard or two patrolling and suck them so hard that they'd come back for more. Some of them became regular hookups in the evening, and he'd even begun to understand their speech to a degree. The quiet chittering they once spoke formed words in his head, and he realised over time they were demeaning him as he was pleasing them, calling him a mongrel, an animal with a lust for dick. They loved it about him.

And so that's how his life became to be. Considered one of the craziest people in the galaxy, Rocket Raccoon was reduced to a dog's fucktoy in the day, and a lizard's fleshlight in the night-- all because he didn't check his ship's engines before a long journey.