Warning: This story involves scenes of torture and excessive gore. If this is not your thing then stop reading now. You have been warned!

Rocket's Retribution

Rocket groaned as his consciousness returned to him. His head was throbbing slightly, and his arms were killing him. The last thing he could remember was Quill inviting him out for some drinks. That must have been some party... He tried stretching out his arms to relieve the ache that was plaguing them, but something was amiss; No matter how hard he tried, the limbs wouldn't seem to budge. As he regained more of his senses, he slowly became more aware of his situation. He wasn't lying in bed or passed out in some alley; He seemed to be in some kind of warehouse, and the reason for the strain on his arms was that they were restrained above his head, forced to support all his body weight while he hung there like a cut of meat at a butcher's shop. But perhaps the most disturbing aspect of his predicament was that he was completely naked!

Worry began to well up in his mind as the seriousness of his situation started to dawn on him. He had been captured! But by who?! Being a bounty hunter didn't exactly get you on people's good sides, and coupled with his recent fame as a Guardian of the Galaxy, the raccoon had no shortage of powerful enemies. Any one of them could have seized the opportunity to get back at him. Well if they thought he was just going to sit back and let them have their way with him, they clearly didn't know who they were dealing with.

With surprising strength and incredible dexterity Rocket curled his body up, allowing his feet to feel over his bindings. But where he expected to find metal cuffs, instead he found some kind of course braided material. Seriously?! He had broken out of some of the most secure prisons in the galaxy, and someone had the audacity to tie him up using ordinary rope?! It was downright insulting... but convenient. He began to fiddle around with the rope, trying to figure out what kind of knot his captor had used to restrain him. He was beginning to get a pretty good mental image of what he was dealing with, and how he could get out of it...

He was suddenly alerted to the sound of bay doors opening in front of him. He quickly resumed his "helpless" hanging position, not wanting his captor to know he could reach the bindings. Blinding light flooded the room as the doors slowly slid open, forcing Rocket to look away as his eyes adjusted to the change in lighting. Through squinting eyes he could make out a single humanoid silhouette entering the room. Rocket assumed it was his captor and began running through a list of possible suspects in his mind. He was working out scenarios on how to deal with each possible threat, but as the figure grew closer, he started to recognize the person as friend, not foe. There was no mistaking that signature helmet...

"Quill! Oh man, am I glad to see you." Rocket said with relief "One of my old 'acquaintances' must have gotten the drop on me. How 'bout you get me down, and we blow this joint before they get back?"

However Quill just stood silently for a moment. With the helmet on, Rocket couldn't see what he was thinking, but a chill of unease ran up the raccoon's spine. Suddenly Quill produced tiny fob-sized remote in his right hand, and pressed down on one of the buttons. Rocket yelped as he felt a surge of excruciating pain explode from the center of his forehead and envelope his entire body. His body convulsed and twitched uncontrollably for a few moments as several thousand volts of electricity wracked his frame.

"What the hell, Quill!" Rocket shouted after the ordeal finally ended.

Quill reached up and pressed a button on his helmet, causing the front to phase away and allow Rocket to see just how angry his friend was "Did you really think you would get away with it?!" Quill questioned him cryptically.

"Look, if this is about that time I cheated you at Geranian Poker, I'll pay you back." Rocket replied.

Apparently that was not the answer Quill was looking for. He pressed the button again, sending Rocket into another howling fit.

"Don't play dumb with me! You know exactly what this is about!" Quill insisted.

"L-Look Quill, I honestly have no idea what you're talking about." Rocket panted.

"Oh really?! Well maybe this will jog your memory!" Quill replied, pressing another button on the fob.

Rocket flinched for a moment, expecting another wave of agony, but the pain never came, and instead he only heard voices; His and Gamora's to be exact. He peeled his eyes open to find a holo-recording playing in front of him, featuring one very exposed and excited raccoon over one very naked Gamora.

"You know, Peter will kill you if he finds out about this." Gamora stated, half serious, half playful.

"Quill?! Hah! That Humi doesn’t have the balls!" his onscreen self boasted, as the raccoon swiftly unsheathed himself. The raccoon’s pink, curved cock contrasting sharply with the gray of his pelt and the green of Gamora’s skin.  The naked raccoon stepped forward, his smirking muzzle leaning to Gamora’s ear.  "That's why you needed a real male, isn't it? ...to scratch that itch inside you, he just couldn’t reach? " There was some playful growling and lusty moaning before the video cut off.

Rocket just hung there mortified; Half because he had no idea how Quill had managed to obtain that tape, and half because he now understood just how serious his situation was.

"Q-Quill, look... I didn't mean it... I was just caught up in the moment... S-She can be very persuasive..." Rocket began to babble.

"You know, I've put up with a lot of your shit over the years, Rocket." Quill cut him off "Because deep down I always thought of you like family. But I guess you didn't feel the same way."

Rocket could hear the hurt of betrayal in Quill's voice, and a small part of him was genuinely remorseful that he had harmed one of the few people he actually considered a friend.

"Peter look, I'm sorry, alright." Rocket apologized "Now just let me down and we can talk about this."

"Oh it's far too late to apologize." Quill responded "You can steal my money; You can even steal my ship; But don't you ever steal my girl!"

Quill turned his back to Rocket and made his way into a nearby room. Rocket couldn't see what Peter was doing, but the raccoon could hear him rummaging through various different tools and knew it couldn't be good. With Quill out of sight, this was likely his best chance at escape. He quickly raised his feet back up to work at the knot binding him, but another quick shock interrupted his attempt.

"Don't even think about it!" Quill warned knowingly from the other room.

"Damn it. How did he..." Rocket cursed under his breath.

Peter came back into the room, pushing a cart in front of him. Rocket eyed the cart, noticing the many tools it was carrying. Some of it was standard stuff like wrenches, screwdrivers, and hammers. Others were miscellaneous devices, such as an old radio and projector. But it was the remaining portion that sent a chill down Rocket's spine; Various wicked looking instruments, the likes of which he would expect to find in a primitive dungeon. Did Quill intend to torture him? No, Peter didn't have the stones for something like that; Quill was probably just trying to scare him... The tools did provide an opportunity though; If he could just get his paws on one, perhaps he could use it to escape.

But Peter seemed to expect this and stopped the cart well out of the raccoon's reach. Rocket watched as Peter rummaged around though the tools, eventually pulling up a stereo speaker. He pressed a different button on his remote and speakers blared to life, filling the room with the roar of music. Rocket immediately recognized it as one of Quill's tunes; "I Hate Myself For Loving You" if he remembered correctly. He felt a small bit of relief at that. Maybe this really WAS all just a hoax, an elaborate setup to get back at him.

"So Quill, what are you going to do to me? Kill me by making me bleed out through the ears?" Rocket asked facetiously.

"Oh, I have something special planned for you. I'm going to show you what we do to raccoons back on earth." Quill replied ominously.

Rocket's bravado deflated a little, as Peter seemed dead serious. This was only solidified when Quill picked up a syringe off the table and began to approach the bound raccoon. Rocket didn't know exactly what was in it, but he knew it wouldn't bode well for him. His options were dwindling fast, but syringe could work to his advantage. If he could just get his claws on it, perhaps he could use it to turn the tables. He watched carefully as Peter got closer, waiting for just the right moment to strike. He thought he saw an opening, and quickly lashed out with his feet, trying to grab the syringe with his claws. Unfortunately Quill seemed to be one step ahead of him again, quickly pulling the needle just out of reach before pressing the button on his remote again, delivering an exceptionally long shock to the procyon. By the time it finally ended Rocket's body was left twitching uncontrollably.

"Nice try, but I've seen all your little tricks." Quill patronized him.

He took the opportunity to administer the serum, injecting the syringe into the raccoon's arm. The change was like a complete one-eighty for Rocket. As the drug spread through his body, his tight and cramping muscles quickly became loose and relaxed; A bit too relaxed... Try as he might, Rocket could not get his body to respond. Whatever Quill had injected him with must have been some kind of paralyzing agent. With each passing moment, his muscles grew more and more slack, soon leaving his entire body dangling limply from the rope.

"There; Can't have you flailing about like that. I wouldn't want to ruin the pelt." Peter said, reaching down to pick up a sizable skinning knife off the table before approaching Rocket with a slight swagger in his step.

Rocket's eyes grew wide with horror. He was serious! He was really going to do it! Driven by desperation, Rocket managed to force his mouth to move just enough to offer one final plea "Quill, think about what you're doing!"

"Oh I HAVE thought about it; Every day since I saw that clip." Quill replied "You aren't talking your way out of this one Rocket. This time you're going to pay... in blood."

He placed the blade on Rocket's wrist and began to cut a ring right below his paws, using just enough pressure to pierce the surface without cutting deep. Once he finished the ring, he cut a line down the raccoon's arm, stopping in the middle of his chest. Blood seeped from the fresh wound, soaking into the fur around the edges. Rocket hissed from the stinging pain caused by the shallow cut. It was definitely unpleasant, but he had endured far worse, and compared to the electric shocks, this was nothing. However the worst was still yet to come; With the initial incision complete, it was time to get down to real business. Quill brought the blade back towards the cut on Rocket's wrist. Approaching at a very shallow angle, he slid the knife into the wound nearly parallel to the skin. "FFFUUUUUCCCKKK!" Rocket screamed in anguish as he received his first dose of real pain, his nerves crying out as flesh was separated from muscle. Peter was agonizingly meticulous in his ministration, making sure not to damage the pelt, while also dragging out Rocket's torment as long as possible. It took several minutes just to carve all the way down that one arm, all the while Rocket continued to swear and howl at the top of his lungs.

"So Rocket, how does it feel to be betrayed by one of your best friends? Doesn't feel so great does it?" Peter asked the raccoon rhetorically.

"F-Fuck you, Quill." Rocket wheezed out between breathes. Still clinging to his defiant nature despite the incredible pain he was in.

Peter didn't seem to pay any attention to Rocket's insult, instead casually carrying on with his grizzly task. He grabbed the loose flap of flesh and peeled away the freshly severed skin like some kind of macabre winter coat. Rocket squealed in unparalleled agony as his outermost layer of flesh was removed, exposing the underlying muscles to the outside world. It was a shock that proved too great for the raccoon to handle, his scream fading and his head falling limp as he passed out from the pain.

"Oh no, you aren't getting off that easy." Quill said, once again pressing the button on his tiny remote.

Rocket jumped back awake with a yelp as a fresh jolt of electricity wracked his body. His panicked eyes darted around for a moment, his mind trying to piece back together his situation after his all too short reprieve. His right arm was throbbing in unspeakable agony, but the rest of his body still seemed to be unharmed. Then the horrifying realization hit him; He had been out for almost no time at all; Quill was planning to keep him awake for every excruciating moment of his skinning.

"Q-Q-Quill... You sick son of a bitch..." he uttered through shaky breathes, his view of Peter quickly shifting. In all the time he had known the human, he never would have suspected that Quill was capable of something like this; And yet here he was, casually skinning his friend while listening to rock music. Rocket might have actually respected him for it... If he weren't the one being skinned!

Peter still seemed to be ignoring his insults, instead moving towards Rocket's other arm. He cut an incision identical to the first one, then began to repeat the same torturous process of severing the procyon's pelt from his body. From there he moved to Rocket's chest, cutting a slit all the way down to the raccoon's groin and working the knife through his belly and abs. Rocket had thought that having his arms skinned was bad, but this was so much worse. The agony dragged on and on, ripping howls and yelps of anguish from his throat. And the worst part was, anytime he blacked out, Quill would shock him back awake to ensure he didn't miss a moment of the horror show. Rocket's will was strong, but even he had his limits, and the constant torture was starting to get to him. He could feel himself beginning to crack, the pain slowly chipping away at his will to fight. By the time Peter finished flaying his front end, all of his defiance had melted away, leaving only desperation in its place.

"O-O-Okay... Y-You made your point... P-Please just stop..." he begged, his voice hoarse from overuse.

But Quill ignored his pleas for mercy, instead moving around to his back. He began to cut down from the neck, drawing more screams and sobs from the tortured raccoon. The cybernetic implants were annoying to work around, but he managed, finally making it all the way down to the procyon's tail. By this point Rocket was reduced to whines and groans, his vocal chords completely shot from the ordeal. But Peter was far from finished, cutting a slit along the underside of the raccoon's fluffy tail. Rocket didn't think things could get any worse at this point, but he was quickly proven wrong as Peter reached into the slit and yanked on the thin base of his tail. There was crack and pop as the tail was painfully dislocated, drawing another whine of anguish from the abused procyon. Pop! Pop! Pop! This type of torture continued all the way down to the tip of his tail, each joint being painfully separated to make the appendage easier to work with. Once that ordeal was over, Peter moved to his legs, cutting down around his ankles and up the front of the limbs, similar to how his arms had been skinned. Finally Quill reached Rocket's groin. He couldn't help but feel anger flare up inside him as he beheld the very instrument of Rocket's betrayal. With great conviction he sliced off the entire package earning an extra high pitched squeal from his victim. He cut the bloodied bits from the pelt and dangled them in front of Rocket's face.

"Now who doesn't have the balls? ...or a dick!" he taunted the emasculated raccoon, flaunting his own severed penis in front of his face “You know back in Missouri, my grandpappy would call these ugly things 'Texas Toothpicks'. After we flesh them down to the bone, we’d pick our teeth with them for years.” Quill's face suddenly lit up with inspiration, and Rocket didn't like that look one bit. "Open your mouth Rocket." Peter instructed, calmly waiting for the former guardian and friend to obey.

"P-P-Peter... p-please..." Rocket's voice trembled, the raccoon's cheeks staining with fresh tears as he pleaded for mercy.

"Either open your mouth." Peter repeated more harshly, his free hand lowering between the raccoon's emasculated groin, fingers probing the bleeding wound where Rocket's testicles had once been "Or I'll make you scream for it."

Rocket's body spasmed at Quill's touch, his voice squeaking in pain. Desperate to avoid further agony, he reluctantly gave in. His jaw staggered open and his eyes screwed shut as he dreaded what he knew was coming. With cold indifference, Peter carefully placed the severed member into Rocket's open muzzle before binding his jaws shut with a simple piece of twine. "Mmmmmphh..." Rocket whimpered, forced to taste his own meat, the organ still warm yet clammy as it softened between his teeth.

With the gruesome deed finished, Quill took a step back to admire his handiwork. Rocket hung there pitifully, his entire body flayed, save for his head, hands, and feet. The raccoon began to tremble as the paralysis wore off, the mass of muscle twitching and spasming involuntarily. Blood wept from the procyon's wounds, trickling down his pink frame and off his toes to form a small puddle beneath him. Satisfied with a job well done, Quill took the fresh pelt over to a set of hooks that were hanging from the ceiling. He skewed the upper part of the pelt on the hooks, allowing it to hang there and air out. With that out of the way, he went over to the stereo, and finally turned the music off. The mood became much more sober as silence abruptly fell over the room, the only sounds remaining being the pitiful pained groans of the miserable procyon. But Peter wasn't quite done yet; He still had one last torment to inflict on poor Rocket before his revenge would be complete. He picked up a data pad from the table, and typed in a few things before aiming it straight at the flayed raccoon.

"Smile for the camera." he said, a sudden bright flash making Rocket wince "Now that's a mugshot." Quill cheerfully quipped, showing Rocket his own pitiful face on the screen, stuffed with his own severed dick "I just put you on the black market." he explained "Shouldn't take long to find a buye..." his data pad hummed "Well would you look at that; You already sold!" Quill smirked smugly "Damn, that's a lot of units! Whelp, looks like I'm off to fetch your buyer. But I wouldn't want you to get bored, so I'll leave you with some entertainment." He picked up a small projector from the table and set it on the ground near Rocket. With the press of a button, it sprang to life, once again playing out the scene of the raccoon's affair.

Rocket wanted to say something, but all the he could muster was a pained wheeze as he watched Quill walk out of the hanger, the large bay doors slowly closing behind him. And with their final clang, the raccoon was left alone to languish in the dark, with only the looping video of his betrayal to keep him company. Although the immediate stabbing pain had subsided, a relentless sting plagued his body as his muscles were exposed to an environment they were never meant to experience. He didn't even try to escape, having neither the strength nor willpower for such a task. He drifted in and out of consciousness, losing all track of time. He could have been there for hours, or mere minutes, it all felt the same to him; One giant continuum of pain and misery. Just how long did Quill intend to leave him like this?

He tried to distract himself from the pain by retreating into his mind, but his thoughts offered little solace, still firmly focused on his predicament. He never thought it would end this way... Well actually he had, but he had always thought it would be at the hands of one of his enemies. Never had he expected to be stabbed in the back by a friend... Not that he didn't have it coming after the stunt he had pulled. He watched the clip in front of him play again, regretting every moment of it. Why had he done it? Why had he risked everything, all for a cheap thrill? Maybe this is what he deserved... To die here, in the dark, alone... Rocket's episode of self loathing was interrupted by a sudden clang, and soon after, the bay doors began to open, once again bathing Rocket in blinding light. The light prevented him from seeing, but he could hear two people chatting. One was Quill, and the other...

"Whoa! Remind me never to fuck with you, Quill!" exclaimed a voice that was all too familiar to Rocket.

As his eyes adjusted to the light, his worst fears were confirmed. Standing before him with long pointed ears, a short fluffy tail, cybernetic legs and headgear, was his biggest rival and greatest enemy, Blackjack O'Hare!

"Mmmmph! Mmmmph!" Rocket grunted, struggling desperately in his bounds until pain became too much to bare.

Quill didn't pay much attention to Rocket's outburst though, instead focusing on Blackjack as he handed a pad to the hare "Here he is, as promised. So, do we have a deal?"

"Oh most definitely." Blackjack said with relish, typing around on the pad a bit. There was a ding of confirmation, indicating that the deal was sealed. "It was a pleasure doing business with you." he smiled deviously.

"Oh wait, one last thing." Peter remembered at the last second, walking over to Rocket and taking one last look into the procyon's pleading eyes. He shut off the projector and then undid the twine sealing Rocket's muzzle, before callously snatching the dick from the raccoon's mouth "Wouldn't want to forget my toothpick." he smirked.

"Peter! Don't leave me alone with him! Please!" Rocket offered one last plea.

But Peter ignored this, instead offering some final words to the doomed raccoon "Goodbye Rocket. I hope the fuck was worth it."

"No! Peter, please don't do this! Don't go! No!" Rocket begged desperately, watching with wide terrified eyes as his last chance at salvation slowly slipped away. The clang of the closing bay doors was like a tolling bell, signaling the beginning of his end. He was powerless, alone, and at the mercy of his greatest and most twisted enemy.

"Wow, he really did a number on you didn't he! I've never heard you beg like that before!" Blackjack commented "And to think, it was your own teammate who sold you out; Such delicious irony." the mad hare said, his tone growing more malevolent by the second "Oh Rocket, you have no idea how long I've waited for this; To see you broken and helpless before me. My only regret is that I wasn't the one doing the breaking. But beggars can't be choosers I suppose. What's important is that you are mine now, and there is still plenty of fun left to be had. Believe me, what Quill did is nothing compared to what I have in store for you. For every time you bested me, each time you one-uped and humiliated me, I'm going to pay you back tenfold."

This time it was Blackjack's turn to pull out a syringe "This stuff is quite different than what Quill gave you. It will help you last longer, and ensures that you won't pass out." the hare explained, administering the shot to the defenseless raccoon. The effect was almost immediate; Rocket's eyes widened and he was suddenly much more aware of his aching body. Blackjack smiled sadistically at the procyon's reaction. He reached out towards Rocket's forehead, making the raccoon flinch in fear, but instead of pain, Blackjack casually removed the shock module that had been placed there "We won't be needing this nasty little thing anymore." he said, tossing the device aside.

Rocket remained silent, already seeming defeated. "What? No snappy comebacks? No insults?" Blackjack mocked him "What happened to that quick wit you are so infamous for?" the hare seemed a little disappointed by the lack of response as he moved over to the instrument cart "Oh well, the room will be filled with your screams soon enough." he said forebodingly, picking up one of the larger devices from the table. With the push of a button, the device roared to life, a long thick plasma blade emitting from one end. Blackjack wore a crazed grin, making him look most akin to a chainsaw wielding maniac. He began to approach Rocket, who despite the tremendous pain it caused, began to struggle in a desperate attempt at escape. "Oh so you do have some fight left in you?" Blackjack yelled over the din of the blade "It looks like I'll get to have some fun after all!"

Without hesitation, the crazed hare stuck the tip of the blade into the raccoon's abdomen, just above his groin. He began to work his way upward, the blade easily cutting through muscle and bone alike. Rocket howled in agony as the blade sawed through his flesh, gutting him like a fish. Blackjack was cackling like a maniac, but his actions were still very much controlled. He only cut deep enough to separate the sinew, taking great care not to harm any of the raccoon's internal organs. By the time he had finished, he had cut a clean hole in Rocket's chest, allowing him a clear view of the raccoon's innards. Blackjack smiled at the sight before him; Those exposed and vulnerable organs pulsing vigorously with life. He was starting to grow excited, the prospect of what was to come causing this member to peek and swell from his sheath. He was going to take his revenge against Rocket piece by piece, but not without adding a little extra pain and humiliation to the mix. Setting the plasma blade aside, he made his way behind Rocket, moving in close to his helpless rival.

The position was uncomfortably intimate for Rocket. He could feel the hare's warm breath against his face; Feel the soft fur brush against his sensitive muscles; All the while his mind raced with all the horrible possibilities the mad hare could have planned for him. He flinched as his dislocated tail was lifted up, giving Blackjack access to the tight little pucker underneath. Then he felt it, the tip of the rabbit's erect shaft pressing eagerly against his defenseless tailhole. He tried his best to tighten his rear, to keep the mad hare from violating him in such a humiliating manner. But it was no use, the member pressed relentlessly against his entrance, slowly forcing the sphincter open. Once the tip had managed to worm its way inside, Blackjack suddenly bucked his hips forward, shoving the rest of his length into the poor raccoon with one single brutal trust. Rocket cried out as the sudden intrusion tore his ass apart. Without giving Rocket any time to recover or adjust, Blackjack began to gyrate his hips, fucking the poor raccoon with only blood and a small amount of pre for lube.

"Mmmm, god damn you are tight!" Blackjack groaned as he used the procyon's body for his pleasure. He fucked Rocket deep and hard, the force of his thrusts beginning to push the raccoon's intestines through his gaping abdomen. "Let me help you with that." Blackjack offered, reaching a claw towards the spilling guts. But rather than help, he grabbed Rocket's colon, brutally ripping the organ from the raccoon's body and tossing it aside. Then he went after the small intestines, pulling strand after strand from the helpless procyon. Kidneys, bladder, liver, stomach, any organ that was not immediately fatal was torn from the raccoon's belly and discarded on the floor. All the while Rocket screamed in absolute anguish as he was slowly disemboweled. And the worst part was that the drugs Blackjack had given him would not let him pass out. He remained conscious, forced to endure every excruciating moment of his torture. Eventually his chest cavity was empty, save for this heart, lungs, and that damnable rabbit cock sliding up through his ass.

Blackjack loved the way that Rocket's body convulsed with each organ he removed, that tight ass clenching hard around his cock, quickly driving him towards climax. It wasn't much longer before his humps grew erratic and his breathing became heavy, signaling his imminent release. In those final moments, he grabbed the raccoon's beating heart, pulling it out to where the procyon could see it with his own eyes. "Oh, I've dreamt of this for so long. The moment when I would finally get to say these words to you... I win." he whispered into Rocket's ear. Rocket watched through tired defeated eyes as Blackjack's claw clenched around his fragile heart. He saw it slowly bulge and balloon; Watched as it tore and his blood spit out with a gentle hiss; Before all at once, it exploded in Blackjack's fist with a wet meaty POP, spraying a gratuitous amount of blood over the duo and across the surrounding area. Rocket's head immediately spasmed backward against the top of Blackjack's shoulder, his muzzle gasping in the air like a fish out of water as his body went into cardiac arrest. "Oh no Rocket, you don't get to look away from me." The rabbit said, immediately prying the raccoon's head back to look him straight in the eyes "I want to watch the light die in those pretty little eyes of yours." Rocket could only gasp silently, staring into the red glow of Blackjack's goggles as the mad hare smiled down at him, enjoying the feeling of Rocket's body wildly trembling and spasming against his own. As the former Guarding of the Galaxy entered his death throes, those final convulsions sent Blackjack over the edge "That's right Rocket, Blackjack O'hare just fucking MURDERED you!" he snarled slamming his cock into the dying procyon with everything he had. His ball twitched and churned, unleashing the pent up load within them. Hot strand of cum shot from Rocket's chest, raining over the pile of severed organs strewn across the floor. Blackjack's orgasm lasted a good minute before finally dying down, his last few spurts spilling into the deceased raccoon's chest cavity.

Blackjack pulled out and took a moment to admire the fresh corpse. Rocket's eyes, once keen with intellect, were now dull and glazed over with death. But the rabbit wasn't satisfied just yet... "Why should Quill be the only one to get a trophy?" the crazed hare thought out loud as he once again fetched the plasma blade from earlier. After turning it on, he positioned the blade at Rocket's neck, and began to cut cleanly through, severing muscle, cartilage, and bone until the head tumbled unceremoniously to the ground. Blackjack scooped up the severed head and placed it on the instrument table. "And now for the finishing touch..." he declared, revealing an unlabeled canister. He opened the mysterious container, causing it to emit a small gray cloud. He blew the cloud towards the lifeless head, where it absorbed into the flesh and fur. And then, he waited...

Darkness... Emptiness... Nothingness... These enveloped every one of Rocket's senses as he drifted into the hereafter. Then suddenly, light! His vision slowly shifted back into focus... and what he found filled him with dread. A trussed up corpse; Skinned, disemboweled, defiled, and decapitated; It was truly a nightmarish display. And it was his! It was his body! But how?! Gripped by panic, he tried to move, but found that nothing responded. In fact he didn't just feel paralyzed from the neck down; He felt NOTHING! A terrifying void where the rest of his body should have been! Before he could dwell on his horrifying predicament any longer, he found his head being turned and soon was face to face with Blackjack.

"Good to see you are still with us." the rabbit commented, seeing life return to his victim's eyes "You look confused, well allow me to help with that." the hare teased him "You see, I've infused your head with experimental nanobots. They cost an arm and a leg, but they were worth every unit. These little guys can provide everything your brain needs to survive; Oxygen, moisture, nutrients, they even stave off infection and disease, keeping your head perfectly preserved for ages to come." Blackjack explained "This way I'll always have something to remember you by; A nice little bauble to use as my own personal stress relief toy."

Rocket wanted to scream, to curse the demented hare for inflicting such a humiliating fate upon him! But without lungs, he could not make his voice heard; And without a body he could not resist. He was completely and utterly helpless, unable to do anything except watch as he was subjected to the psychotic rabbit's depraved whims. And it didn't take Blackjack long to indulge in his new toy. The hare lifted the head, and lowered it down towards his crotch. Rocket felt something poke into the back of his throat from where his esophagus should have been. The shaft continued to push up though his maw, across his tongue and out through his mouth. And he could taste it! The nanobots must have been working as conduits for his missing nerves, forcing him to experience every inch of the vile lapine member, still freshly coated in semen and blood! He wanted to gag! He wanted to bite down on the invading dick! But again, his head remained unresponsive of his commands. All he could do was endure the disgusting and humiliating act.

"Oh, your maw is so good!" Blackjack groaned out in pleasure, thrusting his hips up Rocket's severed windpipe.

The rabbit worked into a steady rhythm, getting a feel for his new cock sleeve. It was nice, but something was still missing.

"You know, these nanobots can do more than just keep you alive. They have another nifty little feature." Blackjack said, stopping his humps for just a moment to press something on a nearby remote. Instantly a small projection was emitted from Rocket's eyes. On the screen was a first person view, watching Quill as he approached with a carving knife. "That's right, these little guys can access and project you memories for anyone to see." Blackjack explained.

Though the memory was still fresh in Rocket's mind, seeing it displayed so vividly before him would have sent chills down his spine had he still had one. The knife approached, preparing to cut into his wrist. He internally cringed on instinct, but what happened next sent his mind reeling. Pain! It wasn't a mere memory; He could actually feel the knife cutting into his skin!

Blackjack could see the panic in his eyes, making him grin with sadistic glee "I see you've discovered the nanobots' other little feature. They can do more than simply project your memories, they can make you relive them, along with all the sights, sounds, and feelings that accompany them. Imagine being able to revisit your happiest memories, or simply being able to go back and enjoy a good lay. Doesn't that sound heavenly? Now imagine being forced to relive your worst nightmares, over and over again, on repeat, without end..."

Blackjack let his words sink in as he went back to humping the raccoon's head. He continued to fuck the skull relentlessly, all the while watching the raccoon on screen suffer the agony of being skinned alive. Rocket would have screamed if he could, being made to endure that torture yet again, and this time with the added torment of having his maw fucked raw. It was hell, complete and utter hell!

Meanwhile Blackjack managed to make it through the entire skinning without cumming. Then was the part where Rocket was left to languish... "Boring!" the hare yelled, stopping for just a moment to press something on the remote. The projection skipped forward to the point where Blackjack had first appeared with Quill "Oh, now who's this handsome devil?" he asked narcissistically.

He proceeded to watch the rest of Rocket's butchering, the rabbit's thrusts growing more brutal and more frantic with each organ he watched himself remove. He pumped in tandem with his on screen double, making Rocket feel as if he was being violently spit-roasted. Finally with a loud groan Blackjack came in unison with his virtual counterpart. Jets of fresh sticky spunk shooting from his cock, out of Rocket's mouth, and onto his furry stomach. After several moments of intense climactic bliss, Blackjack finally started to come down, removing his cock from Rocket's throat, but not before emptying the last of his load onto the raccoon's tongue for the poor procyon to taste.

"There now, wasn't that fun?" Blackjack asked. Although the head could not speak, the answer was clear in Rocket's bloodshot eyes, his wide orbs stricken with pain and terror "What's that?" Blackjack asked, moving Rocket's mouth to his ear "You loved it and you want me to fuck your brains out?" Rocket's mind screamed "NO!", but the rabbit bobbed his head up and down in an imitated nod "Well who am I to deny your wish?" the mad hare answered, shoving his still erect cock into the raccoon's muzzle as fresh tears poured from Rocket's eyes. The rest of his life was going to be a living hell.

That night, Rocket Raccoon would die; Not in body, but in spirit. He wouldn't go out in act of grand heroism nor an epic blaze of glory... but to cheers, laughter, and the clinking of wine glasses as one by one, rival bounty hunters and villains alike arrived for Blackjacks celebratory feast. On the menu; Rocket's carcass, splayed out in a dark red 'X' and slowly turning on a skewer above a roaring fire in Blackjack's gallery. The smell of his own cooking meat wafted into Rocket's nose, who sat atop his pelt as the centerpiece of Blackjack's dinner table, where he was presented like the trophy and toy he now was. The sizzling and popping of his own cooking flesh soon gave way to chewing and meaty tears as Blackjack's guests dined on the former Guardian of the Galazy. All the while the depraved hair recounted hit tales of woe and ultimate victory; Rocket might have taken his legs, but it was he, Blackjack O'Hare, who ate the raccoon's body, and took his soul.

And for the evening's entertainment; Rocket's memories played out on the far wall. The reputation he has spent do much time building up, shattering in an instant as his humiliation was exposed for all to see. As if that wasn't bad enough, Rocket's enemies seemed to be growing increasingly aroused by the sight of his suffering, and it wasn't long before the severed head was being passed around the room to be used and abused by the horny party guests as they pleased. It was like an endless cycle of pain and humiliation at the hands of his greatest rival. If he could speak, he would have begged for death; If he could move, he would have thrown himself out the nearest airlock; Anything to escape this hell!

But there was no escape. He had no tools; He had no friends; He had no body! His only hope was that someone would take pity on him and put an end to his misery. But until that time came, and it likely never would, he could do nothing but suffer in silence, a few stray tears the only indications of his torment as he lived out the rest of his days in perpetual retribution.