Rouge the Bat sits on a rooftop on a moonlit night, her legs dangling over the edge as she watches the solitary figure approach the random old house again. Like clockwork, the Princess of the Republic of Acorn returns to the building. After a quick knock on the door and an hour or so, she emerges, stumbling, bloody, bruised, but fulfilled.
The bat takes more notes into her datapad when a call comes in for her.
“You’ve got Rouge the Bat,” she says, and while she listens, a smirk grows along her glossed lips. “Oh, so you’ve decided to accept my offer? Oh, she’s interested too? Well, this really is interesting. Meet me on Friday night. I look forward to seeing the shy girl show her real self.”
With that, she flies off into the moonlight sky, a bright smile spreading as she heads off.
—
Friday night is a bustling night for Club Rouge, as many Mobotropolis folks find themselves unwinding to songs, shows, and drinks after long work days. 
Rouge sits at the bar, clad in a sparkling red dress with the most spectacular jewels. She practically shines with all the rocks, bangles, rings, and chains she wears, making her presence known to all who find themselves in the establishment.
One of the people meant to find her arrives, dressed in a sharp red suit with her hands firmly upon her hips. The hedgehog smirks as she slips onto the seat next to the bat, raising her hand to the rabbit behind the bar. “I heard you attempted to do something big, Miss Reformed Jewel Thief.”
“Breezie,” Rouge says, shifting to face her guest. “It’s good to see you, Miss former Robotnik conspirator.”
“Please,” Breezie says, waving her off. “I’m glad that fat bastard is dead. Buying up most of his corporations was a breeze without his threat of technocratic dictatorship constantly hovering over the planet. Besides, we aren’t here to compare past mistakes.”
“No, we’re not,” Rouge says, standing up and motioning Breezie to the back.
The hedgehog grabs her drink and follows the bat, leaving behind the prying eyes and snapping images of phones as the two find themselves alone in the back of the establishment.
“I thank you for joining me in that little show,” Rouge says, pulling out her datapad. The wall opens, revealing a gray metallic corridor. Behind the hall was a personal train system with a cart built for four.
“It had better be worth it,” Breezie says, approaching the vehicle, only to stop when she sees the figure seated in one of the seats. “And just what is he doing here?”
Rouge steps up and sits next to the shadowed individual. “Oh, don’t you worry about our friend here. He’s just a potential investor, just like you.”
The green Opossum smiles wide, a golden tooth glinting as he perks his hat up with the head of his cane. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Breezie. I’m a fan of how you’ve locked intellectual property down under your mega-corporation.”
“Really?” She asks, sliding down and sitting in the seat next to Rouge. “I wouldn’t suspect a criminal chao trafficker and weapon dealer to care about movies.”
“With no war anymore, people need to turn their aggression elsewhere. I make good money selling the real versions of weapons you glorify in your action movies. And people need to have the edge in Chao races if they compete. Where do you think most of the top breeders get their stock?”
The train starts down the dark corridor, with Rouge crossing one leg over the other, her hands folded in her lap. “Now, now, you two, let’s play nice. There’s so much I have to show you, after all.”
Clutch points towards the wall as they speed through the tunnel. “This is an old Robotnik Tunnel. How’d you get it past Republic security?”
Rouge chuckles just a bit and says. “There are many secrets to my trade I can’t let you be privy to, but let’s just say I’m connected, and I hope to add at least one of you to my list of business partners.”
“So, what sort of entertainment are you envisioning here?” Breezie asks.
The vehicle slows down, and Rouge steps out, ushering her guests forward. As they pass through doors marked “VIP,” they are greeted with bright lights, a large arena, and a cheering crowd.
And in center stage, standing facing each other in a fighting ring and decked out in boxing gloves and gear, are Amy “Rosy the Rascal” Rose and Tangle the Lemur.
“Both of you have been onto something as of late,” Rouge says, turning towards her guests. She spreads her arms wide and says, “We’ve grown up in an age drenched in violence. We’ve all known struggle and now find ourselves in a world devoid of it, needing to find outlets in fantasy. But I ask you this: What if we merge fantasy and reality, providing people with what they want to see by letting others vent out what they need?”
Both guests look at each other, greedy grins spreading across their faces. “Okay,” says Breezie, “I’m willing to bite, but you must tell me how you got this whole thing set up.”
Rouge bows. “Gladly, but first, let’s sit back and watch the show!”
________________
The crowds cheer as the two opponents square off in the ring. Amy Rose jabs at the air on one, keeping herself light on her feet. On the other side, Tangle ties her tail around herself in a fuzzy belt, biting her lip and adjusting for comfort. Both women dress in boxer shorts, boots, and sports bras, each in distinct colors.
Tangle looks up from her quick tie job and steps up to the middle of the arena. “I’m ready to make ya proud, teach,” she boasts, holding her gloves up.
Amy approaches her as well, nodding and smirking. “Just remember what I taught you, and you’ll make more than me proud.”
Tangle blushes. “Y… you know?”
“Sure,” Amy says. “I’ve known for a while.”
The referee approaches the two, a recycled Egg Pawn in appropriately stripped attire. “Alright, ladies, the boss wants a clean fight. No funny business and low blows. You start with the bell and end with it, and go until give up, knock out, or ten counts, got it?”
“Right!” says Amy.
“Got it,” replies Tangle.
They bump their gloves and head back to their corners, keeping their eyes focused on one another, the smiles of excitement painted over their faces.
The bell goes off, and Tangle rushes forward, throwing a punch straight toward Amy’s face!
Amy lifts her arm, letting it take the hit but leaving herself open to Tangle’s response.
With her free hand, the lemur punches the hedgehog in the stomach, laughing triumphantly at her hit.
The hedgehog stumbles back, hopping from one foot to another, sizing up Tangle, and then rushing back in, her own attacks coming in a flurry of blows of impeccable speed!
Tangle yelps but ducks and dodges as punch after punch flies her way, weaving here, blocking there, but keeping her eyes on the barrage of blurry blows.
During the whole ordeal, a slight shine catches her eye. Standing in the audience, leaning against the exit to the arena, is Whisper, watching silently with her arms crossed.
POW!
Amy’s flurry nets Tangle right in the jaw, sending her flying back! The hedgehog shakes her arms as the crowd roars at the hit, watching Tangle lie on the ground, staring at the ceiling.
“Come on,” the hedgehog says. “I know you weren’t in the fighting game as long as me, but you got the energy. Work through it!”
“D… don’t tell me… what to do….” Tangle says, pushing herself up by her elbows. “You may have been my coach… but today, you’re my opponent!”
“That’s the spirit!” Amy says, bopping her fists together. “Keep your eye on the prize, Tangle!”
“Are you kidding?” Tangle quips. “I’m having the time of my life!” She rushes again, whipping downward and lifting up into the air in a swift uppercut.
Amy dodges back, her eyes widening a moment before she frowns. “You’re losing your focus. You’re better than this.”
“That’s okay!” Tangle says, spinning around, but as she does, her tail unfurls, curling into a fist, and slams right into Amy, launching the hedgehog back into the turnbuckle!”
Amy slams back against it hard, her back throbbing, her arms draping over the ropes. She dangles there, not getting up.
“Oh jeez, I’m sorry!” Tangle gasps, rushing over toward the hedgehog. “Time out! Time out!” she yells over to the ref.
Amy grabs the rope and holds up her glove. “H… hey… I’m not done yet,” the hedgehog says.
The bell rings, and the ref steps in. “Get back to your corner, Tangle!”
Tangle’s ears droop, and her shoulders slouch, but she heads back to where her corner people are waiting with towels, water bottles, and advice.
“I’m fine, I’m fine, really,” Amy says, waving off her crew. “I just need to get up, is all. It’s really no big–”
RIIP
Amy stumbles forward, but with her top dangling to the turnbuckles. The hedgehog squeals and covers herself, her chest burning a bright red.
All around, lights flash, and people cheer and jeer. The proud fighter falls to her knees, her eyes wavering, her lips quivering.
“Oh god…” she whispers to herself.
Tangle looks up from her corner, spitting out her water and missing the bucket. “T… teach!?” She stumbles up and runs to Amy, spinning around and holding her hands out, obscuring the vision of the leering jeerers. 
The three bystanders watch. Breezie sighs and shakes her head. I suppose you’re cutting the feed and ending the match?”
Rouge just watches with a casual smirk.
Breezie quirks an eyebrow.
Tangle breathes quickly, her eye glancing upward. There, she sees Whisper watching her still and bites her lip. Her gaze goes further up, and she locks eyes with Rouge and lets go of her lip, softly gasping. “Ah…?”
She looks over her shoulder. “H-Hey, teach? You remember that thing you taught me when we were first training?”
Amy snaps her gaze up, tears in the corners of her eyes. “H… huh?”
“All the training in the world won’t prepare you for the ring. You gotta learn to improvise, well… how’s this for improvisation!”
Her tail flings downward, grasping at her chest. With a swift motion, the tail fingers curl up underneath her top, lifting it over her head, letting her perky breasts spring free.
The crowd roars at the new turn of events, and Tangle chuckles, spinning around, tossing the top away. With her hands raised back up, she nods to Amy. “There ain’t no way I’m letting you fight on uneven footing, teach. Now, then, you ready to keep going?”
Amy blinks, takes a deep breath, and brings herself to her feet. Slowly, she lowers her arms away from her ample bosom and readies herself. “Yeah. It doesn’t matter how embarrassed you get in the ring; what matters is that you’ve done your all.”
“Damn right, teach. Now, let’s show these people what we can really do!”
________________
Breezie grips the arms of her seat, biting her lip. Rouge smirks and leans in, whispering to the business mogul. “What’s the matter?” she asks. “This improvisational sex appeal triggering something within you, Miss Breezie?”
The hedgehog flicks her attention towards the bat, but only momentarily. “All the entertainment money in the world, and I’m still beholden to Broadcast standards, sponsors’ demands, and the people's will. Getting them to accept more exciting things takes years, not decades. Pushing the envelope and ignoring all that is a reckless business venture.”
“But it works,” Rouge whispers, hissing into the woman’s ear. “Every audience member is cheering right now for the resolve of those two girls fighting each other. They love these celebrities and heroes baring themselves for the camera and their entertainment. Their entire world is flipped on its head, and they push forward for the excitement of it all. Why? Because I provided the platform.”
“There’s no way you could get through to the stations. Where are you broadcasting? Who are you partnered with?”
“Someone influential but limited in scope. My work here is a capital city-only show. With your help, I hope to expand my entertainment empire worldwide.”
“I need to know how you did it!” Breezie squeaks.
“Patience, patience,” Rouge says, waving her hand. “The next round is just beginning.”
Amy and Tangle stand facing each other, topless, with their blushes spreading wider. Tangle hops from one foot to the other, holding her gloves close to her face. Amy stands resolute, eying her opponent with the practiced calm of a professional fighter.
The bell rings, and the two rush forward, crying as they throw their first punches at each other. The attack has them striking each other in the cheek, one eye closed, the other matching each other. They stand silently for a second, letting the warmth and the pain throb at the point of impact before they both stumble back.
Amy rushes forward, her cheek swelling, but she aims for the lemur’s titty!
Tangle yelps at the odd sensation but doesn’t back off. Instead, The lemur rushes forward, punching Amy right in the stomach!
The hit lifts the hedgehog off the ground, causing her to cough as she rises.
Tangle doesn’t let up, throwing her free hand forward and going in for the more ample chest of the hedgehog.
Amy cries out, leaving Tangle to nod and continue her assault. The lemur bops her breasts with a flurry of punches, which sends the woman stumbling back as her breasts become more bruised and more sensitive with each strike of the glove, all until she backs up right against the ropes.
The hedgehog’s mind flashes back from where she was to where she began: Back in her youth when she was a damsel in distress. She gained unspeakable magical power but no discipline. She couldn’t protect herself toward becoming a great leader who could charge ahead into battle, wielding such strength that made empires quake in fear.
Amy’s eyes open wide, burning with emerald fire. With a glorious roar, she plants her foot against the mat and pushes forward, ignoring the glove going deep into her sore stomach. She holds back the cough, lunging straight at the lemur, throwing her punch right for that bruised cheek!
Tangle takes the shot with such force that she flies back, spinning out from the spiraling power of the punch and landing on her stomach right on the mat.
Amy rubs her stomach, stumbling forward, one eye half-closed, and her tits swelling and bruising. She smirks when she approaches Tangle and smiles. “You’re good,” she says. “A bit tricky, but good. Guess I forgot what it was like to have a real fight.”
Tangle pushes herself up, getting to her elbows. The ref’s counting floods her ears. She spits and shakes her head, the throbbing in her cheek a constant reminder of her presence in the ring.
She glances up over the crowd, looking up to that exit where Whisper stood; it’s now empty.
Tangle’s heart drops, and so does her head, her arms trembling at the weight.
“You’re just going to give up? After all this, you won’t even push yourself to face me like a real hero would?”
Tangle grits her teeth, screaming as she stands up, planting a foot on the ground and throwing herself to a standing position. She wobbles and spits, blood splattering on the mat.
Amy places her hands on her hips and nods. “Very good. Now, how about we consider this a draw?” The hedgehog says this, extending a gloved hand. “After all, you did what you set yourself to prove, right?”
Tangle watches that hand, extended now in renewed friendship. The lemur considers the offer for the longest time, and through the crowd's chanting Tangle’s arm raises a bit and pauses.
“Damn,” says Clutch, tapping his cane on the floor. “Them two girls are gonna stop this fight before things get good. Isn’t there something in their contracts that keeps them from stopping the show like this?”
“You have to offer people the freedom to make a choice,” Rouge says, “Otherwise, they won’t put their all into things, and it will just be for show. That’s not what we’re into here. No, we’re looking for something real, not some stage play with special effects and stunt acting. You’ve already cornered that market, right, Breezie?”
________________
The crowd chants and cheers as the ring is reset and the announcements are made for the next match. Up in the VIP box, Rouge the Bat stands up, straightening up her dress.
Clutch quirks an eyebrow, pushing himself up to follow suit. “We aren’t going to watch the next match?”
“Oh,” Rouge says, fluttering her eyes, glancing in a half-lidded gaze toward the arena. “It’s another dime-a-dozen match to whet the appetite before something else interesting. I assure you that we have more important things to view and discuss.”
“Before we do,” Breezie says. “I want to know a few things. How did you get such big-name fighters so easily, and how this whole thing,” she motions around her, “isn’t immediately investigated or shut down by the authorities.”
Rouge smirks, turning and ushering the two back to her transport. “Let’s discuss that on our way.”
—
The Mobotropolis Museum displays a replica of the Master Emerald, shining a brilliant green even when the exhibit was closed. But, just because no one is allowed within doesn’t mean that Rouge the Bat won’t have her fun. The thief drops into the room from the ceiling; she slows her descent with her wings and lands gracefully on the floor.
She steps up to the display, reaching a gloved hand towards the crowning jewel. As she does, the floor in front of her distorts and rises. Digital sparks and markings appear around it as the nanites form into a familiar Holo-Lynx.
“You’re slipping up, Rouge. Returning to your old ways?” Nicole asks.
Rouge shrugs. “Oh, you caught me. I guess I won’t get what I came here for.”
“This was too easy,” Nicole says, furrowing her brow. “You wanted to talk to me about something.”
Rouge flutters her eyes, “I’m sure you know exactly what that is about. After all, nothing happens in Mobotropolis without your knowing.”
“I turned off most of my surveillance years ago; I haven’t spied on everyone since the Naugus reign.”
“And yet, you know exactly what I want to talk to you about,” Rouge says, stepping up, almost touching Nicole chest-to-chest. “That’s because you still monitor some things, or should I say a certain someone.”
Nicole frowns. “What do you want?”
“Just a few assurances,” Rouge says, reaching into her glove and pulling from it a small drive, and she tosses it to Nicole.
The lynx catches it, nanites and holographic systems latching onto its motherboard. She frowns deeper.
“I have to wonder who that other woman is,” Rouge says, hands on her hips. “It would be a terrible scandal if the world found out that Princess Sally Acorn was a secret sadomasochist who regularly participates in bloody fights with some civilian. This doesn’t have to be released if you provide me with the necessary tools and surveillance.”
Nicole hands the device back to Rouge. “What do you have in mind?”
“First, I’m going to need a few private locations. Then, I’m going to need network infrastructure, and finally… I’m going to need to find fighters.”
“I’ll… get right on it.”
Rouge pats Nicole on the cheek. 
The lynx starts but lets the bat proceed. 
“Good girl,” Rouge says. “This will benefit all of us, I’m sure.”
—
Amy Rose strikes at the punching bag, perfecting her form and working up quite the sweat. The background noise of the gym and the decades-old music get her in the zone as she strikes true repeatedly.
“Wow, you’re excellent!”
Amy stops the bag from swinging, picks up her water, chugs it, and turns towards the newcomer. Her eyes widen, and she yanks the water from her mouth, letting some onto her chest. “Hey, Tangle! Long time no see!”
Tangle chuckles, rubbing her nose with her tail. “A friend said you were someone to come to when it came to boxing. I… I wanna learn!”
On the other end of the gym, where there are tables for people to rest and relax, Rouge sits opposite Whisper the Wolf. The bat leans back with her arms draped over the back of the chair.
“And it’s as simple as that,” Rouge says, nodding toward the two women speaking to each other. “I’m glad you decided to up your sabotage and espionage game for my little project.”
“It’s… the only way,” Whisper says, gripping the table's edge, her clawed gloves scratching it.
Rouge shrugs. “We all have our issues to work out, and I’m glad I could find a way to help you through yours. So, once the two of them are buddy-buddy enough, you tell them about the place, and I’ll be sure to set you up with the scenario of your dreams.”
“Right… my dreams,” Whisper whispers. “Maybe nightmares.”
——
Speeding down the abandoned military transit system, Rouge speaks to her companions. “It’s all a matter of knowing the right people,” the bat says. “I’ve hob-knobbed with so many famous and powerful individuals that all I had to do was call in a few favors here and there. Of course, none are as financially influential as you both.”
“Makes enough sense to me,” Clutch says. “So long as you got higher-ups in on this, we’re free to do what we please, right?”
Breezie rolls her eyes. “But it’s not like we have massive name stars here, right? Amy Rose? She was a big shot years ago but is a washed-up celebrity. Where’s the evergreen star power?”
The vehicle stops, the doorway to their next destination opens, and they find themselves in a rustic-looking wooden foyer. “Oh, you’ll see some evergreen soon, I’m sure. Or, should I say, ‘ever-blue’?”
________________
Unlike the grandiose nature of the stadium, the cozy, old-world home look of this arena is much more intimate. Rouge leads her potential investors out of the station and into the foyer at home at rustic Knothole-village chic.
The only thing out of place in this earthen and wooden decor is how the softwood chairs face a large mirror.
“We all the way out in Wood Zone?” Clutch asks, plopping himself onto the chair. To his surprise, it rocks.
Breezie sits down more reserved, sitting up and keeping her seat from moving as much as possible.
Rouge steps up to the mirror, motioning to it. “Different people have different tastes. I’m sure you both agree that there are channels one must put people on to give them what they want. What some groups love, others hate. This is for a more discerning palate who wishes for something a bit softer yet has a little edge.”
“Lots of buzzwords and not enough substance,” Clutch barks. “Get to the point.”
“Oh, there are many points here, all along the back. You thought one hedgehog celebrity was interesting? Well, feast your eyes on this!” Rouge claps her hands, and the lights in the room flash off, revealing that the mirror is, in fact, a window peering into a bedroom that is equally as cozy as the viewing room. The four-poster bed is front and center on their view, with the other accents and accouterments off to the side, giving a good amount of walking room on either end.
Rouge pulls out her datapad and speaks into it. “Alright, let’s do it to it!”
The doors on either side of the little bedroom open up, and from one of them steps out a blue-furred male hedgehog, his body draped with a loose red bathrobe. A trademark grin sits on his face, though his emerald eyes look towards the one stepping in from the other side.
His opponent wears nothing save for the rings around his wrists and ankles and the red streaks of his black fur. This hedgehog stares down the other through crimson eyes, snorting with contempt.
In the viewing room, Clutch catches himself as he nearly falls off his chair, and Breezie grips the arms of her seat roughly hard enough to crack the wood.
Rouge hides her smile as she speaks into the room. “Alright, you two. You have a small audience for your little contest and don’t forget the cameras lined up for the recording. All of this for posterity, of course.”
The black hedgehog crosses his arms over his chest, pressing against his white chest fluff. “Hmph. I know this already–I didn’t forget.”
“I know you didn’t, mister grumpy pants,” Rouge says, crossing one leg over the other. “I just need to reiterate things for viewers who don’t know what’s happening. Why don’t you introduce yourselves and tell the world what you’re doing here?”
The black hedgehog thumps his chest with one hand. “My name is Shadow the Hedgehog. I am the strongest fighter in the world. All who challenge me have never bested me!”
“And you?” Rouge asks.
The blue hedgehog approaches the bed, placing his blue hands on the mattress. His robe falls off of his shoulders, slipping down his body. He flutters his eyes as he looks toward Shadow. “I’m Sonic the Hedgehog, and I challenged Shadow to a contest he couldn’t refuse.”
Shadow growls, grabbing one of the posts and stepping up to the bed. “You tricked me into this insipid situation. I wanted to conquer you, yes, but this is ridiculous!”
Sonic hops onto the bed, kicking the last of his robe off. He swirls his finger up and down along the sheets. “Not so ridiculous that you didn’t accept.”
Shadow grits his teeth. “You know how this is going to turn out. Have you no pride?”
Sonic tilts his neck and shrugs. “Look, Shadow, I do what I want, when I want. Now that I’ve been around the world dozens of times and finally stopped evil and all that jazz, I need to look inward at the next thrill–the next adventure.
“Besides,” he says, smirking. “I heard stories about you in your days at GUN and how you liked blowing off steam after missions.” He shakes his hand before his face, tongue poking at his cheek.
“You’re trying to egg me on,” Shadow says, crawling onto the bed. He reaches out, grabbing Sonic by the cheeks, his eyes narrowing. “I will make you beg before this is all over.”
“I’m begging,” Sonic says through squished cheeks. “For you to shut up and get started already. Show me the real Shadow the Hedgehog!
Shadow growls, but he leans in, their noses rubbing against one another, lips breathing very close together. Sonic opens his mouth, his tongue gently rolling out. Still, Shadow pulls away, sits up, hands moving up behind Sonic’s ears, and pushes him downward. “There will be none of that,” Shadow says. “You’re mine, and that is that!”
Clutch coughs, pushing himself up from his seat. “Look, Rouge, you said nothing about watching two annoying hero types shooting a porno! This is supposed to be a fight!”
Rouge presses a few buttons on her pad and motions out the door. “Well, Clutch, you can change your mind about things if you follow the train to the next corridor. Breezie, do you have reservations about watching these two settle their differences in the bedroom, not the battlefield?”
Breezie’s girlish smile wipes off her face as she tears her attention away from the show before her. “H-huh? Oh no, I love this. Let’s see where it's going!”
Rouge flutters her eyes, waving Clutch away. “At least someone here has good taste.”
________________
Breezie and Rouge sit back and relax in the observation room, both women watching the two hedgehog males as they tease each other. Breezie’s excitement comes in the form of shivers and a bit lip, while Rouge’s comes from a more sensitive smile.
Shadow caresses the blue hedgehog with a controlling demeanor and whispers. “You got what you want, haven’t you?”
As the two hedgehog men sit on the bed, Shadow’s crimson gaze turns downward, his scowl still upon his face, but a hint of playful domination sprinkles his words. “Nice cock. I see that we’re evenly matched.”
Sonic snickers at that, and his hedgehog dick emerges and twitches in anticipation. “Glad to see the Ultimate Lifeform doesn’t have a monster dong. We normal guys need to compete, you know.”
“I am my own person,” Shadow says, hand gripping Sonic’s throat, squeezing, but not too much.
Sonic’s smirk doesn’t change as he grabs the two of them, squeezing their cocks together. The warmth throbs as sensitive skin brushes together against gripping fingers. “Heh, can you feel it? Seems like my head peaks out just a bit more than yours.”
Shadow’s brow twitches. “Your taunts are getting tiresome. But if you’re fascinated with my cock, why don’t you suck it?”
“Don’t mind if I do!” Sonic says, his head lowering. The blue blur kisses the tip of the red shaft, wrapping his lips around it and dipping down. He closes his eyes, humming as he eagerly slides the member down and up. His tongue lashes at it, his head bobbing with such enthusiasm. All the while, Shadow sits there, a smile forming on his face.
The black hedgehog places his hand on Sonic’s head, just behind the ears, and he pushes down, sliding Sonic up and down along the shaft, fighting to maintain a slow and steady pace.
Shadow’s free hand supports himself on the bed, his fingers curling into the mattress. His chest rises and falls as his breaths come out in a broken rhythm... “F… fuck…” he growls in a half-whisper. “Y… you’re g-good at this f-for someone who… who doesn’t s… suck cock.….”
Sonic’s eyes flash up toward Shadow and the blue hedgehog winks. Then, his speed increases, bobbing his head with the help of his super speed.
Shadow grits his teeth, fighting back a groan as if it would prevent the pressure and stimulation between his legs. The antihero snarls, wrapping a leg around Sonic’s back and rolling over. He knocks Sonic onto his back, with Shadow sitting upon the blue hedgehog’s chest.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” snarls Shadow. “If you’re going to suck, you’ll do it at my speed!”
Sonic squirms and pulls his mouth free from the penis with a pop. Drool bridges between the cock and the mouth as Sonic pants, licking his lips, his eyes half-lidded. “Either way, I’m going to make you cum first, which’ll be a victory for me.”
Shadow snorts, rocking his hips, his tip-tapping against Sonic’s nose, leaving a little stain upon it. “The rules of engagement here are simple: Whoever tires out first loses. Nothing more and nothing less. Do not think that I will be satisfied with one ejaculation. My refractory period is minuscule, and my energy is nearly limitless.”
“You learned that from experience, Shads?” Sonic asks, lying in a lounging position underneath his doppelganger.
“Your teasing serves nothing more than to make me want to conquer you more.”
Sonic gasps. “What? You mean you want to fuck me? I didn’t know you cared!”
Shadow shifts, laying on top of Sonic, chests pressing against one another. The hedgehog on top narrows his eyes, his hands grabbing Sonic’s.
Sonic responds by lacing his fingers against Shadow’s, nuzzling his nose against the other hedgehog. “Aw, and you wanna cuddle, too?”
“This is still a competition!” Shadow snarls.
“Oh, I know,” Sonic says. With that, he presses his lips against Shadow’s, his grip on the interlaced fingers tightening.
Shadow closes his eyes gently, his mouth opening, his tongue shooting out, dancing against Sonic’s tongue, lashing for dominance against his eternal rival. His knee rests against Sonic’s side, and his other foot plants on the other side. He breaks the hold and soon unseals their lips.
Sonic whimpers but licks his lips as their mouths part, watching Shadow with fluttering eyes. His eyes lock on Shadow’s cock, shivering as it brushes against his tummy.
“How does it feel?” Shadow asks, “To show your true self to me and the world?”
Those emerald eyes flick up to Shadow. When he opens his mouth to say something, that cock slams its way back into Sonic’s mouth.
Shadow grits his teeth, furrowing his brow as he thrusts against Sonic, fucking his throat this time. “I told you… if we… do this… it’s at… my speed!”
Sonic laughs through the onslaught, his hands gripping Shadow’s ass, taking in that cock for the second time tonight. A glimmer of mischief flickers through his eyes. He curls up, spinning into a combined ball of blue and black. This throws Shadow away and knocks him against the headboard. The black hedgehog’s shoulders against the mattress, his legs up in the air, cock wet with spit and pre and hanging downward.
Sonic crawls up toward Shadow, shaking a finger. “Tsk tsk tsk. You forget that I’m not just a power bottom. I’m Sonic… Sonic the Hedgehog!”
Shadow growls, curling up, but Sonic grabs onto his legs. “Nuh-uh! It’s my turn to have fun! You sit back, relax, and prove you can handle anything I throw at you!”
________________
Sonic the Hedgehog looms over Shadow, that trademarked smirk spread across one side of his mouth. The blue hedgehog takes his wagging finger, lifting it to his face. He rolls his tongue out, placing the digit upon it, and then pulling the two into his mouth. He wraps his lips around the thing, sucking and closing his eyes, letting out sounds of delight before pulling the finger out with a pop.
The finger glistens in the light as Sonic wags it, but then he reaches down, placing it against Shadow’s hole.
Shadow grits his teeth, his toes curling up. “Gnnth…?”
“Can you take a pounding as good as they say?” Sonic says, pressing the tip against that button between Shadow’s cheeks. He plows through that initial entrance, then wriggles it, letting it sink in through that tight exit, swirling around, curling it up just as he gets to the depth of the P-Spot.
Shadow arches his back, his cock springing hard and high, touching his tummy occasionally. The precum at the tip strikes his stomach and pulls away with a string as his breath comes out in gasping grunts. “Aa… aaa. h..h?”
“Wow, Shadow, I didn’t think you’d melt under my touch like this! Guess what they say about you taking it up the butt is true!”
“F… fuck you, Sonic!”
“Looks like it’s the other way around this time, Shadow,” Sonic says, yanking that finger out. He whips away from the bed, returning to his position momentarily.
“Gggh!?”
Both of the watchers don’t notice the exchange because Sonic, at that moment, pulls himself away from Shadow. The blue blur lifts off the bed and rushes towards the drawer. There, he pulls out a bottle of “Chao-Y” Jelly. He turns toward the hedgehog on the bed and winks, pouring the lubrication onto his hand, sliding it up and down his shaft, and coating it in a sheen. He drops the tube and rushes back to the bed.
Shadow falls slowly, all things considered. He takes a moment, only a split second, to realize he has control again. He plants his feet against the bed, laughing it off, rolling on the ground, and grabbing the jelly himself. He lathers up his cock, smirking over toward Sonic.
Sonic bounces off the bed, homing in on Shadow, knocking him against the wall, their cocks locking like sabers as they tumble against the wall. That is until Sonic finds himself on the bottom again. He curls up, kicking Shadow in the stomach, sending him flying back to the bed and grabbing him back in the same position they were when they started.
Sonic grabs Shadow’s thighs, spreading them and pressing his length right against that hole, pushing down into him.
With his speed, he thrusts into that dick with a vibrator’s speed, sliding in easily. The cock rubs and buzzes at Shadow’s love button. The pole sends that vibrating goodness with a mix of pressure on and off, shocking through his system, up his own length, and down his body to his mind.
Shadow lays under Sonic, his shoulders against the mattress, feeling filled with that thrusting cock. He can’t help but be mesmerized by the suave look on the blue hedgehog’s face. Had he always been so confident in sex? The bottom hedgehog stares deep into those emerald eyes as he’s butt blasted by the blue blur. A groan rises from his throat, proving to be the ultimate humiliation for someone who always wants to be the best.
Shadow presses his hands against the mattress and pushes himself up, arching his back, knocking Sonic away, and rattling the bed. He presses a hand against Sonic’s cheek; he squishes him against the mattress, squatting over Sonic with his cock still inside. “Just because I like to take cock doesn’t mean I can’t be on top, Sonic!”
Sonic shrugs. “Oh yeah? Prove it!”
Shadow nods, bouncing on that rod Super hard and filling himself up. His cock bounces and oozes as he rides Sonic’s dick, his eyes closed, his face a serene mask as the pleasure courses through him.
“I am Shadow the Hedgehog,” He says, his eyes opening and looking up to the ceiling, his hands running over his chest fluff. “I conquer all who challenge me in whatever contest they desire. And I love having a large, hard cock plowing into my ass. This is who I am!”
“Ah, haha, w-wow, you just said all of thaa-aaa!?”
Shadow’s tight asshole squeezes Sonic’s rod, the hedgehog on top smirking when he rolls and grinds upon that pole. Sonic cannot help himself and comes, shooting his warm super-sonic jizz up into his opponent’s ass, filling that boy pussy.
Shadow hisses in delight as his length oozes, losing control, shooting off itself and hitting Sonic’s tan belly like a dart board.
Taking a few moments to compose himself, Shadow sits on top of Sonic, his chest rising and falling. He soon pushes himself up, his legs trembling, but he can disconnect from that member with a “schlorp,” letting the thing flop down against Sonic’s leg.
Shadow collapses beside him, smirking, lying there. “I’ve won….” Shadow says.
“Heh, what are ya talkin’ about,” Sonic snickers, hand upon his chest. “We came at the same time, didn’t we?”
Shadow frowns. “N-no. Obviously, It was…”
“Was it because you loved being creampied by my chili dog?”
Shadow looks away. “Perhaps, but perhaps it is too close to tell. Fine. Another round, but after a moment.”
Rouge stands up. “Well, Breezie, that’s all we need to see from these two. Best to give them a modicum of privacy.”
The green hedgehog stands up. “Yes, I think I’ve seen enough to decide.”
“Are you sure?” Rouge says, her lip quirking. “After all, there’s still much more to show you.”
________________


Some minutes pass with Sonic and Shadow lying on the bed, content in each other’s arms. The two don’t realize the viewers have left to go on other avenues. The air in the room has changed—the tension has diminished.
Finally, Sonic musters the energy to push himself up, straddling Shadow the Hedgehog, his finger swirling delicately over the black hedgehog’s white chest tuft. The blue hedgehog bites his lip while the black hedgehog’s eyes flutter from staring down at his chest to his opponent’s face.
“You got something to say?” Shadow grunts.
Letting go of his lip, Sonic speaks. “You know it’s a wonder you enjoyed it this much. I never thought I’d see the day Shadow shows how gay he is.”
Shadow scowls, pushing himself up, holding Sonic by the lower back. He pulls him, chest to chest against his own, rubbing his nose against the blue hedgehog. “You think this is funny? I win at your game, show you kindness, and you make fun of me for it?”
Sonic slips a hand down Shadow’s side, gripping his hip and shaking his head. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just riling you up for the next round of this game?”
Shadow growls, forehead pressing against the forehead. “Don’t think you’ll make it through another round unscathed. When I beat you, you shall be fully conquered and burning in desires for me.”
“Ooh, I like it,” Sonic says, wiggling his butt. “But, there’s one big problem.”
“Huh?”
Sonic’s fingers trail down further, wrapping around Shadow’s cock. His palm presses upon his own length. He squeezes the two together and pushes his hips forward, rubbing the lubricated lengths against one another. “I’m gonna be the one who wins this.”
Shadow gasps, the two lengths sliding up and down, warm, stiff, and sensitive. After their intimate moment of recuperation, the two hedgehogs continue, their bodies much more sensitive to one another after so many rounds.
Shadow grits his teeth, moving his hands to Sonic’s shoulders, whispering to the Hedgehog with a growl. “D… don’t think I’ll come first, t-this time.”
“You don’t sound so sure about that!” Sonic boasts, rocking his hips, holding the cocks firmly, stroking them, and fluttering his eyes.
Soon, however, that confident facade breaks as his mouth opens and his legs shake. He bites his lip and tilts his head back, his chest rubbing against Shadow’s. The softer and fluffier one rubs against the shorter-haired one, tickling him, engaging him.
Shadow holds onto Sonic’s shoulders, fighting his physical reactions to Sonic’s erotic attack. But there’s more to it than that. That moment of weakness runs through his mind as the sensation of friction between the sensitive organs runs through his body. He can’t fight back the quavering gasps from his throat, the stiffening of his nipples, or the leaking precum.
The pearling pre slides against Sonic’s shaft, becoming strings of lubricated liquid that bridge between the two cocks as they slide up and down against each other. Both hedgehogs rock against one another, their bed creaking at incredible speed.
Soft sighs and quivering lips make way for gruffer moans and eyes latching onto one another. Without a second thought between them, the two mash faces together, their noses pressing and dueling even as their cocks do the same. Tongues dance instead of fighting against one another. Sonic’s hand runs down Shadow’s cheek, even as the one holds and strokes the two, keeping them together no matter what.
The blue hedgehog squints his eyes shut, sweat pearling on his forehead. His muscles tense, and that excitement builds up at the base and tip of his cock. His ears twitch when he hears the desperate groans rising up from Shadow.
Shadow’s hands fall off Sonic and grip the sheets. He arches his back, digging his heels against the mattress. He rubs his quills against the bed, his cries higher and less constrained. No longer is he the gruff and growling alpha male. Shadow lets himself get to the pleasure, which makes the whole thing hotter for Sonic.
The blue hedgehog’s emerald eyes flicker back as he finds the first moment of orgasm overwhelm him. But just before he blows his load, he’s hit with shots of warmth against his hand, messing up his dick, fingers, and stomach. He can’t control himself, and he continues to thrust even when he shoots out, the two of them getting drenched in a cum bath supplied by both cocks.
Sonic collapses, and Shadow falls against the bed. The two of them lay there, stewing in the warm, sticky goo they’ve made. There is no call for a cuddle this time, and they just relax from the sheer exhaustion, left only with deep breaths and warm bodies.
Shadow lazily plops his hand onto Sonic’s back, his eyes fluttering open. “It seems we’re evenly matched,” Shadow says, chuckling.
“Wh... What’s so funny?” Sonic asks, opening one eye just a bit. “I just got myself a third round for free.”
“We can’t just leave it at that, can we?” Shadow asks, squeezing the blue blur close to him.
“Well, considering the excitement of the world is out there, I can’t stick around in one place. But who knows?” He leans in, placing a kiss on Shadow’s cheek. “If we run into each other again, I’d happily settle the score.”
But for now, the two hedgehogs drift off to sleep, content in each other’s arms.
Rouge, meanwhile, opens the door to the next viewing chamber, sighing.
“Something wrong,” asks Breezie.
“No, not at all,” admits the bat. “In fact, things have been going exactly as planned.”
________________


Shadow the Hedgehog is a relatively easy Mobian to find for someone like Rouge the Bat. She swoops in from the dusk-covered sky, landing on the hill overlooking a scenic vista of loops, jumps, and dancing flowers.
“Beautiful evening to stop and enjoy the beauty of nature, isn’t it?”
Shadow only slightly turns his head, acknowledging Rouge with a simple grunt.
She shrugs, a sigh escaping her lips. “How long have you been at this moody teen phase of yours? What turned you into the eternal fight grump?”
“I don’t need to explain anything to you,” Shadow says, his arms firmly crossed.
“I know,” Rouge says, slinking beside him, fluttering her eyes. “You’re not a tough book to read, Shadow the Hedgehog. Ever since you sworn off your past, all you’ve been doing is going from one fight to the next, facing off against threat after threat after threat.” She pulls a collection of photographs from her glove, tossing them at his feet. “And you really did a number on a few of them. That Jackal Squad during the Eggman takeover—you didn’t kill them. You utterly destroyed them.”
“I have no regrets,” Shadow says. “Are you trying to guilt me for putting an end to those who would use their,” he snorts, “power for selfish gain?”
“Oh, but I’m sure you actually do,” Rouge says, stepping up in front of him, facing the cliff, and looking off into the distance. There, down below in the hilly landscape, dust kicks up as the familiar blue blur zips along, making a light show of the whole arena. “You’re an immortal, Shadow. You truly are the ultimate life form, whether you want to acknowledge that or not, and that comes with some perks and some downsides. For one, you’re as handsome as you were ten years ago, no, sixty years ago. Definitely on one of the perkier sides of life.”
“Your point?” he grumbles.
“The major downside for a man who gets his kicks from beating the not out of baddies and villains and bullies and bastards is that eventually, you’re going to run out of them.”
He grimaces, tensing up. “What do you really want?”
Rouge smiles, holding her hand to the streak speeding around the track. “I can offer you challenges that will never, ever end. You’ll have to open your horizons about who you will fight and how you will do it.”
He lowers his arms, stepping up beside her. Both are at the precipice, staring down at the scene below them. “And what exactly would I have to do to join in on your scheme? Help you rob a museum?”
“Nothing so droll,” she says. “I just need you to give me bodily fluids.”
Shadow quirks a brow at her, the two silently contemplating.
—
Rouge the Bat and Breezie step through to the next viewing room. It had been another short trip through the tunnel system, and when the ladies arrive, they find Clutch already sitting in one of the chairs, his tail swishing back and forth.
Instead of a two-way mirror, the guests are treated with monitors lined up, each showing different angles of a sterile and padded cubic room, the bright white of the screens lighting the chamber up quite well.
“Gotta say this place is much less homey than the last one,” Clutch says. “Nothing much going on the screen either.”
“That last venue,” Rouge says, stepping up to the station, “was once a rather famous bordello, remodeled and updated for the comfort of competitors. We could also make a side business of providing professional streamers a place to perform their art in an authentic environment.”
Clutch growls. “Competition, my ass. That was just two dudes fuckin’ each other! I have zero interest in watching something with the pretense of action.”
“Then, how about we ditch pretense then?” Rouge says, spinning around in her seat.
Breezie sits herself down, glancing around the screens. “And just how do you plan on doing that?” She asks.
“By showing you my third type of service. If you thought the last one was not much of a grudge match of sexual delights.” She presses the microphone button and leans, her voice ringing in the padded room, “You’ll be happy to know that our next competitors will put the ‘fight’ in ‘sex-fight.”
On one side, the door opens outward into a room illuminated only by flashes of light here and there, crackling and causing a slight fuzziness in the screen. A green figure steps out from it, a scowl on her face as she struts on in, her electrical power crackling.
“Our first contender in this special duel is Surge the Tenrec,” Rouge explains, with a much more formal tone than her professional announcers. “A would-be hero turned would-be scorched earth advocate: she’s here to settle a score.”
“She’s a criminal,” Breezie says, folding her arms over her chest.
“Okay, now you’ve got my attention,” Clutch says, tapping his cane.
“And she’s only half of our star-studded battle here.” She presses another button, and the door on the other side opens.
Through the dark corridor comes a glowing orange light that intensifies as the lilac cat steps out, her body draped in a frilled and royal cloak.
“May I present to you Blaze the Cat,” Rouge says. “If either of you are unaware, she’s the princess of a great kingdom from another dimension, but she volunteered her services here. It’s quite the opportunity for cultural exchange, don’t you think?”
The princess eyes the tenrec, a frown upon her face, her head bowed low, but her eyes, alight with flame, do not leave her. “Here we are on a noble field of battle. Thank you for allowing yourself to participate in this ceremonial duel.”
Surge chuckles, thumbing her nose. “What can I say? I never heard of a fuck fight before!”
Blaze’s eye twitches. “Do not disrespect my customs.”
“Believe me,” Surge snickers, holding her hand out with a thumbs down. “By the time I’m done, you’ll be disrespected in so many nasty ways.”




________________


The koala pours the tea out for the two sitting on the balcony at the imperial palace. Rouge confidently sits back and sips from the drink while Blaze holds the cup in both hands, watching her odd visitor.
“I thank you for the audience, Princess. It really is an honor to be in such a fine alternate reality,” the bat says, chuckling softly.
“It’s not often that anyone just waltzes into my audience chamber, let alone someone from Sonic’s World. Am I to expect more visitors now?”
Placing the cup down, Rouge responds. “Most people call it ‘Earth’ nowadays, but it depends on who you ask. As for an increase in tourism and immigration, I’m sure we could work something out if it’s something you’re interested in.
“Maybe,” Blaze says, but that all depends on the security of my empire. I’m sure you can understand. But what’s a jewel thief and spy doing asking about such things?”
“Mmm, well, I don’t know how time flows on your side of the dimensional void,” Rouges says, “But it’s been a few years, and a lot has changed in our reality. For the better, many would say.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“But, we suffer from boredom and could use a little spice, perhaps a cultural exchange if you will, and something that requires a bit of power.”
The cat growls. “If it’s the Sol Emerald you want, you’re not getting them.”
“Oh, no, no, that’s fine. I’m only interested in the gems of my world, and what I need from you is a bit of cultural exchange.”
“Such as?”
“Well, the funny thing is,” Rouge begins, producing from her suit a tablet. On the screen are writings scanned into it, “Some intrepid explorer once found reference to some of the customs you have in your world that we don’t have here. If I could get people coming here to share, and if your firepower could spark a little something for me, I can give to your people such entertainment they had never seen before.”
“You are in the business of selling pleasure?”
“Think of it more as excitement. I’m sure your years of peace weigh heavily upon you.”
Blaze taps her fingers together. “Show me what you’re planning.”
—
Stepping onto the floor of Club Rouge, the Bat and the Cat have a lot to see. “There’s a bit more nightlife here in Mobotropolis, but we lack a sense of culture. Call that the faults of our heterogeneity. Injecting some Sol Dimension specialties could really liven things up. In return, I’m sure we can also excite your people. Now, let me show you the—“
The lights flicker and burst, and Rouge dives under a table, covering her head. Meanwhile, Blaze melts the fallen glass with her flames, narrowing her eyes when she turns towards the back door where the electric figure of Surge stands.
“Hey, Rouge!” she barks. “You seeing someone on the side about adding some sizzle to your show? I thought you said I was gonna be your star!”
“Star…?” Blaze eyes Rouge for a moment.
“Yeah, that’s right, pancake, star,” Surge says, zipping up to Blaze and flicking the cat’s nose.
Blaze hisses. “How dare you!”
“How dare I what, granny? Tell you off for getting into my turf?”
“You will apologize for your interruption and your casual attitude this instant. I have a high tolerance for stubborn individuals, after all.”
“Oh, la de da, whatever, bitch. I don’t get time for you.”
Blaze burns up, sending scorching flames up along the ceiling. Surge sparks and sneers at her, bumping her chest close to the fire, but a moment later, the two are wholly doused in white foam.
Rouge drops the fire extinguisher and approaches the two, her arms draping over their shoulders, pulling them in close to her. “Now, now, ladies, I need both of you to help power my show. No one’s being replaced; you’re going to work together.
“Together!? Blaze scoffs.
“With her!?” Surge spits.
“Oh, yes, and the payout,” she says to Surge, “and the humanitarian reward,” she notes to Blaze, “Will be astronomical.”
Surge smacks Rouge away, pouting with her hands in her pockets. “Like hell, I’m gonna work with her for some namby pampy nonsense.”
Blaze brushes foam off of her jacket. “While I wouldn’t mind helping you do something to better our worlds, there’s no way I’m working with this woman to do it.”
“You know…” Rouge says, tapping her cheek. “I think there’s something in that old manual about your culture that I read that could solve this little problem.”
Blaze blinks. “You mean the right of the duel?”
“Hah, a duel!” Surge says, punching her fist into her other fist. “Bitch, I will smack you so hard you ain’t gonna see straight. I’ll challenge you to this duel and win!”
“Excellent,” Rouge says, clapping, “And I have just the venue and time for it.”


Blaze the Cat stands with regal dignification, her back straight and her eyes narrowed at the upstart Surge the Tenrec standing before her. She says nothing to respond to her opponent’s taunt. Instead, with the precision of a well-practiced pyromancer, she erupts into flames. Her whole body disappears behind the scorching flame, smoke rising from the cloak hiding her body. Fabric curls and disintegrates into ash and smoke, wafting, climbing, and dancing in the air, stimulated by so much heat.
The Tenrec watches with a saw-toothed grin, hands upon her hips, watching with her face and eyes glowing with the irregular beats of fire.
As soon as it begins, the flames dissipate, and standing where the cloaked princess once was is a princess no longer cloaked in anything. The only adornments left to Blaze are her gloves, her forehead charm, and her headband. She stands unashamed in her lithe and flat form, her tail puffed in anticipation.
Surge clenches her fists, her elbows at her side. Sparks flicker around her, filling the room with pulsing, arcing power streaks. “Neat trick you got there, Princess,” she says, “But it ain’t gonna save you.”
“Prepare yourself to face me in an honorable duel,” Blaze says. “By unclothing yourself.”
Surge’s sparking stops, and she shrugs, grabbing her top and lifting it over her head. She sighs, tossing it aside, running her gloved hands down over her smallish tits. “Hey, what do ya know? They are bigger than yours!”
Blaze’s eye twitches.
Surge keeps her eye on the cat as she bends forward, thumbs hooking into her pants, pulling them down. She wears no underwear underneath. The tenrec kicks her pants aside, sticking her heels to the ground to rip her shoes off one at a time. They tumble to the other side and clutter up the room. “There,” she says, smirking as she stands there, hands on her hips, padding along the padded room. She is the punk mirror of the princess, dressed as it were in the same manner now. She pushes her chest out when she steps up to Blaze, letting her nipples barely brush over Blaze’s. “Let’s go, Blaze the Flat!”
Blaze begins, grabbing around the Tenrec, gripping her back, and pulling her close so they press together. Sparks make the cat’s fur fluff up as she stares down her opponent. “Don’t make fun of me when your attributes are similar.”
Surge grits her teeth, gripping the back of Blaze’s head, hooking an ankle around hers. “Don’t you dare try to make fun of me, princess. You and your kind make the rest of us deal with all sorts of bullshit. I won’t be takin’ your lip, too!”
Blaze flutters her eyes, her gaze smoldering as shocks and heat run up along their intertwined bodies. “I am not some tyrant: I fight for my people.”
“And by ‘fight,’ you mean ‘aggressively fuck the problems away?” She doesn’t let Blaze answer. Instead, she pulls the cat close, smashing their mouths together and darting her tongue to wriggle around Blaze’s.
Blaze’s tongue dances and jolts and the feline fighter can taste metal and ozone in that kiss. She seizes up, her grip tightening on Surge’s back as volts rip through her form, stimulating nerves and muscles as they travel down to her toes.
Surge pulls away, her tongue lulling out, saliva dripping from both. She laughs, pointing down to Blaze, who collapses onto her knees from the energy. She slurps the drool and thumbs her nose, taunting, “Face it, kitty cat! You and your kind may call this a ceremonial duel, but the truth is that you all love to fuck so much that you made a sport out of it.”
The tenrec squats beside Blaze, tilting her head, snickering as she watches the spasming muscles of the shocked princess. “Gee, looks like you can handle the heat but not any of the buzz, huh? Don’t worry. We’re just getting warmed up!”
Surge stands, lifting a leg and slamming it on Blaze’s shoulder, and she reaches between her legs, spreading her labia between two gloved fingers. “If you’re dedicated to beating me by getting me off, then why don’t you put that unparalyzed tongue back to good use?”
Slowly, the tingling sensation that covers Blaze’s motor functions subsides, and she glances at that snatch right before her. The dripping delight between Surge’s legs crackles with the same energy that knocked the princess down. She swallows her resolve, reaching up and grasping the false hedgehog’s thighs. She shoves forward, her mouth pressing against lips against that musky muff.
Surge grips Blaze’s head tightly, electricity sparking from her glove. The tenrec’s smile widens as he shoves the feline princess up between her thighs, digging her heels into the floor on either side of the royal pussy’s body.
“That’s right, princess. I’m the top bitch here in this little fuck room. So, if you think you have a chance to take me on, you’ll need to show me you can put your tongue where your mouth is!”
Blaze shudders and shakes, her hands grasping at the Tenrec’s thighs. There’s a warmth to her touch, a warning of sorts, but also an alluring feeling.
Surge shifts, snickering, her tongue rolling out between her teeth, flicking in the air, pantomiming her desire. “Come on, they say you cats like to lick yourselves clean. Well, you made my pussy wet, so you need to clean me, got it!”
Blaze’s gaze shoots up to Surge with burning annoyance, but the princess does not let the taunting remove her dignity. She takes a deep breath, able to breathe despite the ozone-enhanced musk of the green punk.
Blaze presses her tongue upon the moist lips between Surge’s hips, the rough, hooked thing scratching and catching the fur and flesh, scraping off a fine layer of fuzz from the tenrec. She keeps this up, licking and licking and licking, narrowing her gaze, scrutinizing her opponent.
Surge growls, her toes curling, her hand petting and squeezing the feline. She slurps her tongue back into her mouth, her chest heaving from Blaze's delight.
Down between Surge’s legs, Blaze continues to work on her, her tongue rolling and flicking up toward the cyborg’s clitoris. When she presses to the nub with the tip, a jolt arcs and connects the two for a split second!
“Aaah-fuck!?” Surge gasps, grabbing her breast with one hand and squeezing her tit.
Blaze hisses, fluffing up her tail, curling back and away from the cunt, the fluid string between the two visible to the observers.
“Oh, no, you don’t!” Surge snaps, pushing against the cat’s skull and lifting her leg. She then kicks downward, hooking her calf behind Blaze’s neck and pressing her against her muff. “We aren’t done here yet, pampered princess pussy. If you can’t handle a little static, you might as well tap out now.”
Blaze growls between the woman’s legs and squeezes her thighs. Her claws extend, digging into her but not breaking the skin.
“Heh… hehe… that’s some… good stuff… mmm… f-fuck yeah, now we’re talking! Work that tongue, you sexy bea-aaah!?”
With a surge of her own power, Blaze grips the tenrec’s mighty ass, lifting her up high into the air and spinning her around.
Surge yowls, desperately trying to get a better grip on the princess. However, Blaze finishes the fluid movement with that unexpected strength by slamming her onto the padded floor and right onto her back! 
Stunned, Surge lays there momentarily as Blaze lifts herself up, her chin and lips glistening with Surge juice. The cat lifts up one leg, holding it tightly. “I will defeat you, but it won’t be by using my tongue. It’ll be by the use of my whole body against yours, and when we are through, impudent troublemaker, you’ll know that I am a princess not by birthright but by the merit of my skill.”
Surge pants, one eye opening up, her frown growing. “I’ll show you how we do things in this world. No rules, no holds barred, just.. You… wait!!
________________
Surge frowns, clenching her fists. Her eyes and tits spark. “You try and touch me again, and you’ll get the worst shock of your life. Best be prepared to turn up the heat because I ain’t letting my guard down again.
Blaze sighs. “Must we play with these puns? This is serious combat. Shall we duel with our bodies in their most sensitive state?”
“The fuck you talking about-oh?” The tenrec obviously wasn’t prepared for when the feline fighter lowers herself, holding close to one leg but letting her labia lick Surge’s. The princess grinds against the other girl, biting her lip, closing her eyes, and squeezing her leg.
Surge grips the ground, rocking her hips, watching Blaze and the way her fingers waver and her lips quiver. “Heh… seems l-like… things are really heatin’ up!”
A thin stream of smoke rises up between the two scissoring warriors. The scent reaches Surge’s snout a second after the heat goes from an unpleasant sensation to a sharp pain.
“Ah!? You bitch!” Surge snaps at Blaze, shifting positions with her, grabbing her leg, and lifting it over her shoulder. “Whatcha tryin’ to do, burn off my cunt?”
Blaze winces, but the fire in her eyes does not go out. “All’s fair in the battlefield of physical delight!” she grunts through the shocks that jolt through her body, her fingers twitching, her lips spasming.
“F… fuck!” the tenrec exclaims, wrapping an arm around Blaze’s leg. “If you want more juice, you just have… ngh, to say so!” With that, she pulses a current through her palm, and Blaze’s toes extend, curl, and vibrate from the painful constrictions.
“How’s it feel not having control of your body, Bitch?” Surge snickers at this, her pupils shrinking. “Every watt you feel is me claiming and conquering you! I’ll charge you so much you’ll cum for days!
Blaze’s tail stands on end, and she curls her fingers, gripping the padded floor beneath her. Her teeth show through her snarl as she focuses on those manic eyes of her opponent. Her hips push and grind against Surge’s. Her core tightens as she applies pressure. Her inner energy flows downward toward her womanhood, producing flames that lick against the Surge’s shocking Snatch!
Surge puts up an ionic wall between herself and Blaze. It crackles as it diffuses the flames, knocking them away from her precious pussy. The tenderness from the initial touch of heat heightens the sensations from the cat.  If she didn’t defend herself, her labia would be pussy seared. “F-fucking psycho,” she growls, digging her palms into the ground. “You’ll actually burn me alive!”
“Not if…aaaaah!?” Her cries jitter as her eyes roll back, feeling the shock rush up from her sex along her spine.
Surge sneers. “Haha, serves you right to try to, aaafuck!”
A flame erupts between the two, making her flinch and shield her eyes.
When the fire subsides, she is greeted by the fiery determination of the princess, renewed despite the spasms of shocks.
________________


Surge’s body heats up from her core to her heart to her extremities. Her teeth grind together as she grinds against the pussy’s pussy. Grunts rise up from her as warmth and pressure build up. Her fingers twist, her palms press and her heels dig into the padded floor as she holds herself together. All the while, she drools out as between her lips drip the sweet sex.
The feline princess also drips between her legs, the flame in her eyes growing as the flame in her hands and between her legs spread, licking over the two of them, clashing with the spasming of her muscles. It’s hard enough to control her body, let alone her wits, with the constant assault of shocks hitting her different muscles. The stimulation continues in erratic behavior as Surge’s focus wanes, hitting her in multiple spots at once, buzzing and tingling her deep under her fur and flesh, and tiring her out.
Their passions ignite, and soon, Surge’s eyes flash, and she laughs, throwing her head back, roaring in orgasmic delight.
“You… you haven’t won… yuh… yeee-eet!” Blaze begins to say, but her own sensations overwhelm her, sending her over the edge as the lightning claws up her sides and to the pleasure center of her brain. She shudders and shakes in the abuse of the electricity, her back arching, her toes curling, and spraying fire from her deepest being.
Surge screams in pure pained delight as she’s overtaken, not just by her orgasm but by the flames. She flies back from the power of the burst of energy from both of them, striking the wall and sliding down, leaving a burn scar on the padding.
With flame-singed fur, Surge lays against the wall, slumped over, but she twitches, coughs, and then pushes herself up, standing with her shoulders hunched and a toothy grin.
Blaze scrambles to her feet, crying, “Are you al… right?”
Surge snickers and cracks her knuckles. “What? Worried about me, princess? I don’t die that easily. You, on the other hand… fuck, that’s the loudest a girl’s ever squealed for me. Not only that… but I’m the first one up after we both got floored!”
Blaze bites her lip. “That’s true… I concede. Is our grievance done?”
“So long as you don’t get in my way anymore, sure,” Surge says, picking up her boxers. “Oh, and if you agree that I’m the4 top bitch.” She snaps her fingers, producing a spark, “which makes you my bottom bitch.” Wiggling her brows, she adds. “Now… you and me–we’re going to the showers, got it?”
—
In the observation room, Clutch whistles, leaning on his cane. “That excitement… that rush. It was incredible. “They almost completely let loose, even though they were fuckin’ each other. You can’t get entertainment like that, except maybe on the dark Eggnet.”
“It’s funny you should mention that,” says Rouge, resting the back of her hand upon her chin. “Because I have yet another demonstration for you all. This time, however, it won’t be in this establishment. We’ll have to take the Eggrail again.” She stops and looks over her shoulder as she passes them. “I can expect the utmost discretion from the both of you in what we’re going to see next. Otherwise, we’ll have to conclude our business here and now.”
“I’m not going to break NDA,” says Breezie, stepping up beside her, “I just hope you don’t expect me to copy your success.”
“I honestly don’t think you can,” Rouge says, snickering. “It’s not what you know: It's who you know, after all.
Clutch follows the two women. “Believe me when I say I know when to keep things on the down low, Miss Rouge. Especially when you show your hand that you have something to hide.”
“Not to hide,” says Rouge,” But something amazing to show you.”
—
The rail takes the passengers further than the last trip, following a darker tunnel system showing much more wear and tear with cracked cement and rusted metallic infrastructure. When Rouge steps out onto a platform, it buckles and creaks under her weight.
Clutch follows her, offering his hand to help Breezie get off her seat. The hedgehog hops out on her own, her nose wrinkling as they arrive at the metallic door with sheet metal bolted over what was once obviously the Eggman Empire insignia.
“This seems more like your element,” Breezie says, looking over the platform and off into the abyss below.
“It’s one of Eggman’s old testing facilities,” Rouge says, whipping out a keycard and swiping it by the door. The recessed key reader blips to life, flashing red and then green.
The wall groans, then slides open with a slow and ponderous rumbling. “Also, until I get the full support of generous sponsors and business partners, I see no reason to pretty up this place or the competitions within. After all, the viewers of these competitions like a little more grit to their battles.
Their footsteps echo throughout the dark metal room. The only walkways connect to a large circular arena in the center, suspended over a large hole that dives down to depths unknown.
Spotlights flicker on, pointing down to the three arrivals and leading them to temporary chairs set up for the viewing pleasure at the edge of the massive arena.
“Once, the good doctor used this place to have his badniks fight to determine the strongest. Then, he moved on to virtual simulations. Now, the test of strength returns, and instead of oil and electricity, it is blood and sweat that spill onto the concrete and metal.” Rouge says this, sitting down on the leftmost seat.
“And just whose blood is going to be spilled today?” Clutch says, snickering as he sits next to Rouge.
Breezie looks to the chair, sighs, and sits. “I’m sure we’re going to find out.”
“And you’re bound to be surprised,” Rouge says. “Send in the fighters,” she says into her wrist communicator.
________________


A notification blips on Rouge’s phone, and the bat glances down at it, smirking when she sees the image that her cameras caught in the shower. With Surge and Blaze furiously making out in the bathroom, it seems that all is going according to plan, as she had described it that night a while ago.
As the spotlights move to the ends of the industrial arena, Rouge types a quick note, stating, “Project Sparkplug is a complete success. Pick up the ignition girls in the showers and wait for my arrival. I have the fight to watch, and I think it will be a while.”
________________


Across from the massive empty chamber, an elevator opens with a hiss. Stepping out of it is a red fox dressed in a tight black outfit. A yellow bow ties her hair back, but aside from that one accent of feminity, Fiona Fox’s face shows her scowling certainty.
“Isn’t that a mercenary?” Breezie says, her nose wrinkling.
“Sure is,” Clutch chuckles, tapping his nose. “Didn’t think the girl would do prize fights, but I suppose the world has seen stranger things. How in the world did you find this has been, anyway?”
Rouge smirks, shrugging gently. “Oh, it wasn’t too hard to find her; she is an old friend of mine, after all.”
“Fuck that,” Fiona barks, stepping into the arena proper and flipping off the bat.
“Fuck you too, love,” the bat adds. “She’s annoyed at all the terrible decisions she’s made. After all, we both come from similar backgrounds, yet I’m in the chair, and she’s in the ring. How many jurisdictions are you wanted in, Fiona, dear? In how many parallel zones?”
Fiona huffs, folding her arms over her chest. “Just send in the opponent so I can kick his teeth in and get paid.”
“Oh, right.” Rouge snaps her fingers. “He should be here any moment himself.”
Opposite Fiona’s entrance, the doors open with a hiss, and through crimson mist steps forward spiked shoes belonging to a black-furred individual. White stripes line along his chest, and white hair whisks back from atop his head. His heterochromia is only part of the distinguishing features on his scarred face. Just underneath his chest fluff is a hexagonal burn scar and indentation in his chest. Gripped in one of his black leather gloves is a gnarly red sword.
Clutch’s eyes widen, and Breezie gasps. The two have no words as Infinite the Jackal steps into the arena. He sheathes the blade and stares down his opponent, a fierce snarl upon his features.
“As you can see,” Rouge begins, snickering, “I already have some superstars in my roster.”
Fiona glances over at the mercenary, clenching her fists. “So, what are you? An alternate reality doppelganger? An auto-automaton?” She flips her hair.
“I’m as real as they get,” says Infinite, pointing to her and taking a step forward.
“So, that’s where the phantom ruby was. Funny. I heard that thing consumed you. Tell me, when they took it out, was it extremely painful?”
Infinite places a hand on his chest. “If you’re messing with me, you’re gonna regret it.”
“Now, now, you two,” Rouge says. Camera bots zip up around the fight, getting different angles. “Remember, this is being broadcast over the dark Egg Net, and they only care about one thing in their bloodsport, and that’s how much Batcoin they can wager in your battle.”
Fiona raises her fists, smirking, “Oh, betting should be closed. I’m gonna end this now because there’s no way I’m losing to this has-been weakli-oooof!”
Infinite’s fist burrows into Fiona’s exposed stomach, lifting her up a few inches into the air. Before she can fully register the hit, he leaps up, kicking her side and sending her bouncing and tumbling along the metal floor.
Fiona scrambles to her feet, coughing, with blood on her lip. “Fuck…”
Infinite looms over her, staring into her with death in his eyes. “Only one other being has called me weak and lived.”
Fiona spits, wiping her lip with her thumb. She nods and then rushes at him, planting a foot on the ground and spinning a kick at Infinite’s jaw.
The jackal grabs her ankle but misses and gets a noseful of the boot.
Roaring, Infinite swipes with his nailed glove, aiming for her chest, but Fiona falls back, landing on her palms and springing forward, kicking him right in the chest!
Infinite’s eyes widen in surprise, but he finally grabs that leg, his claws sinking into her fur, pulling her in close so he can deliver an elbow against her face, right at her teeth, knocking her down to the floor.
Fiona bounces, and Infinite raises a leg, slamming his boot down.
The fox rolls out of the way as the stomp dents the floor.
Infinite whirls around, raising an arm to block her punch at him. He grunts, his mind flashing to a broken, bloodied, and mangled mess of one of his former comrades.
Fiona raises her knee, going straight for his groin.
The jackal stands resolute against the searing pain from the burning in his junk.
Fiona freezes, dumbstruck at his resolve, only to get a fist between the eyes in response. She reels back, her vision starry as she fights to regain her focus before another attack comes for her.
But that attack doesn’t immediately come.
Infinite takes a few deep breaths, rolling his shoulders, clenching his fists, letting that pain course through him. Through his seething, he sees more ghosts of his past, left as crumpled heaps in the moment of his most significant loss.
The jackal roars, lunging toward the fox with the anguish of his fury.
Fiona’s vision, though splotchy, catches his advance. She grabs his outstretched arm, lifting him over her shoulder, rolling him over herself, and throwing him to the ground against the cold, unfeeling floor.
Infinite bounces this time, blood and spit flying up from his mouth.
Fiona goes in for a stomp herself, but unlike her, Infinite isn’t interested in dodging. He grabs her boot, digging into it, sitting up slowly with that fuming resolve.
As she tries to tear her boot away from his grasp, he offers her more retribution as a punch straight to the cunt!
The stars return to Fiona’s vision as she falls back, screaming as the throbbing pain hits her. She grabs between her legs, fighting back the tears that start to well from her eyes.
And Infinite looms over her, a shadow of rage as he stares at her pathetic body. “You called me a weakling,” he growls, “and yet, here you are, crying on the ground, nothing but a pathetic bitch.”
________________
Through the searing pain and throbbing in her skull, Fiona Fox pushes herself back to face her opponent. Infinite’s clawed glove grabs her by the mouth, nails digging into her fur and flesh as he lifts her to stand before him.
“I once thought I could win by using tricks to manipulate people. But, I’ve found that the only true strength is a sound tactical mind and a body trained to perfection, and you can’t have that because you seek to influence others to win.”
Muffled, Fiona tries to respond.
Infinite retorts with a punch to her stomach.
She coughs onto his palm, gagging, her eyes rolling back.
Clutch clutches his cane at the seats, and Breezie stands from her chair. “This is gratuitous! He’s won! What more is there to show?”
Clutch snickers, licking his lips. “Why, Breezie, you should know the masses crave blood and feel empowered to do what they cannot in polite society. There’s no need for pretense here.” He glances over toward Rouge, but the bat remains quiet, watching the fight with a casual glance.
Breezie sits herself down, huffing. “You’ve seen right through me. Let’s see how far you’re willing to go. Surely, no one would care if this criminal gets what’s coming to her.”
“It’s nothing a few bandages and a hospital stay won’t fix,” Rouge says. “And the money this rakes in quickly makes up for the medical expense. Anything that will leave permanent physical damage is strictly frowned upon in this arena.” This last sentence, she projects toward the fighters.
Infinite’s golden eye catches Rouge, and he smirks, “Then, let me alter my tactics before I destroy this precious flower.”
Fiona’s breath quickens as he lowers his fists and presses his open palm upon her stomach. He scratches downward, tearing her shorts and exposing the red fur beneath.
“When it comes to battles, there is more than one way to conquer your opponent. Victory Is assured through domination, whether by blood or other fluids.”
Infinite lets go of Fiona’s cheeks, clasping his hand upon her throat, shoving her down to the ground, tightening his grip just enough to put the fear into her.
“Y… you can’t break me, you limp-dicked bastard,” she coughs.
He holds her down with one hand as another grabs her leg, lifting it over his shoulder.
As he hoists her hips up, she can see the red shaft emerging from between his legs, and she stares at the thing, her body quivering.
Without saying anything else, he slams forward into her exposed snatch, letting his girthy rocket spread her out, his hands moving up and down along her thigh.
“It’s been said,” Rouge says, “that the Jackal squad had a very healthy sex life. It was more of an orgy than a mercenary band. They were rapacious beasts who had to slake their lusts upon one another. But, of course, that ended once Shadow wiped them all out.”
Infinite growls.
“Of course, it might be a consolation prize for Infinite to know that his cock is larger than Shadow’s.”
“F-fuck off!” Infinite shouts, pumping into the fox, deepening the length into her with each thrust, claiming her, spreading her, bulging her stomach.
Fiona doesn’t lay limp. She claws at his face, gripping his chest fluff, wrapping her unlifted leg around his body, and twisting her own, trying desperately to change the situation as the all-too-familiar sensation of having a dick deep inside her plays out. But unlike all the exes and Johns and opponents in this ring that she’s had in her life, there is something different about this hate-fueled fucking.
He doesn’t let her attacks get at him as he feels her walls contract around his shaft. The use and abuse are something that she’s grown not only used to but grown to love. She’s a broken doll, a pathetic weakling. She makes him sick. She makes him
So
Fucking
HARD!
He lifts her hips with both hands, getting to his knees, dragging her shoulders, and slamming his cock down into her, letting his force and gravity slam her against the floor with each thrust.
Fiona’s yowls fill the room, echoing in loud, piercing barks as she’s plowed against the floor and used as Infinite’s cumdump. There is no groping her tits, and there is no adding excitement to her by choking her. There is only his cock, and his means of extracting more pleasure out of her for himself!
Soon, he’s standing, shoving his rod deep into her and throwing his head back, letting out a loud and triumphant bark of his own, his dick practically exploding tons of goopy hate into her womb. When he pulls out, she falls back, breathing heavily, her cunt dripping with his contempt.
“Bitches like you deserve to be breeding stock and nothing more,” Infinite says. “Come back if you want me to knock you up again.” He snorts and walks off into the darkness.
The cameras zoom in on Fiona, getting the audience every shot they can of her oozing cunt and her hazed-over gaze. She continues to lay there for a few minutes, lost in the humiliation and the lust.
Rouge nudges Breezie’s shoulder and shows off the stream, where comments buzz and the donations rise higher and higher.
“Bitch got what she deserved.”
“Fuck her brains out.”
“Kill that cunt!”
Clutch snickers. “What did I say, huh? We’re animals, all of us. People would pay so much to see it spilled. It’s a shame a gladiator will stop being a money source when they are far too broken to keep fighting.”
Indeed,” says Breezie. “And there’s the morality police to worry about.
Rouge chuckles as she stands up, putting away her device. “Indeed. There is money to be had at all levels of this establishment, with  only that last piece of the puzzle to figure out.”
The two look at her with tilted heads and quirked brows.
“What if I told you I could let people’s wildest dreams come true? What if I told you we could have our fighters court death and then cheat him out of his prize?”
________________
The chamber is darker than anything the Mobian fighter had experienced before. Most people are content with their lives despite the wars and the apocalyptic scenarios.
But not this wolf.
He was only a puppy when the mad scientist stole his home and his parents from him, leaving him to fend for himself in the wilderness. The daytime was filled with the burning of natural resources and the sapping of the color of his habitat. The night comforted him, wrapping him in the blissful oblivion from the horrors his eyes perceived.
 As the regime killed the forest, he had called his home. He thought that the liberation of Mobotropolis would give him a new lease on life.
That is when the aliens descended from the sky, causing wanton destruction and chaos everywhere. They killed many and gathered up the rest. He was confronted for the very first time by one of their soldiers, the black creature staring him down with in-Mobian eyes.
All the years of running and hiding. It was leading to an end at the hands of something not of this world. When the creature pulled the trigger of its weapon, he snapped and lept at it, digging his teeth, tasting its ichorous blood, tearing out its flesh.
And for the first time, he savored the joy of ending something that would have finished him.
Then, the planet cracked to pieces, unleashing horrors upon the world changing people during the day. The little people he had made friends with became sullen, angry, depressed, and depraved.
And the night, his time of solace, became the realm of monsters, glowing with a strange and terrifying energy. They hunted in the night as packs of roving horrors. Then, he learned to hone tooth and claw, digging into the shadowy not-flesh of their being, his heart beating faster and faster with each kill. It was either him or them, and they made him strong.
And when the world returned to normal, he finally stepped out into the sun, finding a world finally healed from the dark tyranny of oppression and the overwhelming destruction of horror. For a time, he was actually truly happy.
Then that was when the robots took over everywhere. There was nowhere to hide, and the wolf, now forged in the wilderness, joined the fight against oppression, tearing through hordes of robots with tools instead of teeth. And though the mechanical menace often screamed, it was never the same as when the dark creatures or the mouthless Black Arm baptized him into brutality.
There were more threats and horrors, and each time, they would dig his mind deeper and deeper into the knowledge that this peace is just a facade. The world is a horrible place for monsters; only monsters can survive.
But the mobians disagreed. They gave him kind words, and they gave him pills, and they gave him companionship, such as the people in his support group.
“Lavender?” the soft-spoken voice of Whisper breaks him out of his wanderings. “Do you have something to say for the newcomers?”
The pinkish wolf tilts his head up, his squinting eyes, consistently so weak, gazing at the other Mobians and humans in the support group. He shakes his head. “N-no, sorry, miss Whisper. Not today.
Whisper smiles softly, tapping her pen against the podium. “That’s fine. After all, we all know that we can’t always speak about our deepest problems. Sometimes, just knowing we have friends can help.”
“Can it, though?” Lavender says, wringing his hands.
“Huh?”
“Can it really help? I’m sorry.” He gets up. “I’m sorry, everyone. This might work for you, but for me, it’s different. I need something else. I need. I dunno.”
Lavender storms out of the meeting room as someone says, “It started when my mother turned into a zombot…”
Outside, Lavender opens his pink eyes wide, taking in the starry moonlight, his hands in his jacket pockets to warm himself up. He sighs, shaking his head.
“Having trouble acclimating, even after all these years?”
He blinks and spins around, gasping, “You’re-?”
Rouge smirks, holding out a card. “Charmed. A fighter like you can’t exist in a peaceful world. It’s not what life made you.”
He snatches the card from her fingers, crumbling it up. “I’m not a fighter, I’m a--”
Rouge pulls out a picture, the crimson streaks on it all too familiar to Lavender. “A monster? Quite the job you did on this one. I think this used to be a wealthy man, indeed.”
“I… he-he…”
“Had a terminal disease, and he offered you money to give him one last thrill. Yes, yes, and you must have given him such a good time, indeed. I’d bet that once you got the taste for it, it never quite disappears from you… does it?”
“What do you want?”
“If you would be so kind as to uncrumple that business card, I want to allow you to use your skills that won’t net you in the Devil’s Gulag or worse.”
Lavender uncrumples the paper, his eyes scanning over it. “This…?”
“Is a golden opportunity for you. Join the stable I’m building, and you can do whatever your heart desires.”
“It can’t be my heart,” he says, trembling. “Something like me can’t have one.”
Rouge snickers, stepping past him. She stops, smirks, and says. “Oh, you can stop pretending you are so civilized. I know that under your outfit, you’re getting rock hard just thinking about tearing into me.”
Lavender spins around, snarling, but Rouge takes off just then, flapping into the night, leaving him alone with the calling card and, to his dismay, a raging hard-on.
________________
Whisper the Wolf locks up the meeting place for the night. The counselor sighs, squeezing the keys in her hand.
She drives off into the darkness of the night, far away from the city and far away from anyone, save for the prying eyes of the system that’s always watching, constantly reporting.
Out in the Great Forest, she can get away from it all, and when she does, she makes it to the cabin she always stays at. Her phone buzzes, and she checks it.
It’s from Tangle.
“Sorry, can’t talk. Work is late,” she replies, unlocking the secluded camping sight door.
Inside, the furniture is sparse, and what furniture is there is torn apart. Hidden away, however, is a bed roll for traveling and emergencies stuffed up the chimney. Rolling it out, she curls up for a night that is hopefully alone.
The following day, Whisper leaves the cabin only to stop and growl. Sitting on the hood of her car is Rouge, leaning back a bit, sipping a drink from a vacuum flask.
“You know, you’re up early. Take It from a fellow night owl. That can’t be good for you.”
“What are you doing here?” Whisper asks.
“I want to help you out. You’re a hero, you know.” Rouge hops up from the car, pulling out a manilla envelope. “I’ve been following your career with great interest ever since what happened with Mimic.”
Whisper snatches the envelope and pulls out the document on it. Her eyes widen, and her body trembles.
“If I felt someone betrayed me as bad as he did, I would have probably snapped as well,” Rouges says. “Of course, no one noticed the connection between his grisly demise and their decision to return to their home planet. Or, was it actually your decision for their betterment?”
Whisper drops the envelope, grabbing her head. “Please, don’t…”
“Don’t what? Expose you for what you’ve done in the intervening years? Why would I do a thing like that? Like I said, you’re a hero. Little girls look up to you as a triumph of love conquering all. And yet, here you are, a woman so consumed by your hatred that you hide yourself from the woman you love.
“Let me guess. Did Lanolin quit the Diamond Cutters because she learned about your other side? What would Tangle think?”
Claws slash at the bat, only to hit the car's hood as she hops onto it.
“Now, that’s going to be difficult to hide, Whisper dear,” Rouge says, leaning her cheek into her palm. “Just like how all those disappearances of violent criminals. Oh, quite the hero you turned out to be, didn’t you?”
“Stop.”
“The first were murderers… then it was abusers, and then it was dealers.”
“No!”
Whisper falls to her knees, clutching her head.
“I can help you,” Rouge says. “But you need to help me first.” She holds out a hand. “I’ve got a project that needs monsters, but I also need stars, and Tangle is just the kind of star I need.”
—
The crowd at Club Rouge cheers for the fight as Tangle sits in the locker room, all dressed back up in her casual gear. Again, she tries calling her phone. Amy steps out of the shower, frowning as she looks at the lemur. “Still hasn’t called back?”
“This whole fighting thing was her idea,” Tangle says, sighing. “The least she could have done is watched the match.
Amy grabs her purse from her locker and sits on the bench beside Tangle. “It’s probably nothing!” The Hedgehog says. “Here, the cards will tell us. Just draw one, and I’ll interpret it for you.”
“Nah, don’t worry about it. If she wants to be sneaky, I’ll be too!” Tangle says, stretching. “Besides, I don’t want to be distracted by it.”
With that, Tangle bounds off, leaving Amy alone to draw the card. Her smile fades as she stares at the portent, wondering what such an ominous card would mean for Tangle or Whisper.
—
This last room is devoid of light, save for a single bulb that illuminates the black-coated surfaces of the three specialized seats. Rogue steps ahead of her companions, kicking off her shoes and pulling off her gloves, sitting into the seat, her extremities disappearing into handholds and footrests. A visor lowers over her head as she sits, her ears poking out. “Please, join me in the other seats,” the bat says to her companions. “This is the best in virtual reality technology. It’ll allow you to see and experience what’s to come in the most intimate ways.”
“More sex shit?” Clutch says, removing his hat. “This is getting old, Rouge.
“It can be used for that,” Rouge says, her investors joining her in their own seats, “But I figured to understand what is to come next, we would have to experience it ourselves. Only the most dedicated battlers would subject themselves to the treatments necessary for us to observe and feel everything they experience because their very existence is on the line.”
The three would find themselves in another dark room, this one large, with the echoes of clawed footsteps reverberating off of many walls and pillars. The familiar scent of wolf fills the room, lingering and mixing with another lupine scent.
The fighter growls, a feminine voice broken with an animalistic desire as she skulks through the chamber, nose to the ground, claws digging at the floor.
On the other side, another lupine form also steps forward, scratching his chin, his ears twitching. When the scent arrives at his nostrils, he whimpers slightly. Some of him recognizes the smell, but his baser instincts tell him it’s impossible. It’s just another female wolf, not the loving and caring Whisper.
Whisper has a moment of slight recognition that disappears when she hears it. There’s no way one of the members of her support group would be in a place like this, where monsters come to shed blood.
Rouge smirks, settling into her seat, and with nothing more than a thought, the buzzer sounds, signaling the start of the battle!
________________
“It’s so good that you found yourself a new lease on life,” Tangle says to whisper, massaging the wolf’s shoulders. “You’ve come a long way since, well.”
“Since I couldn’t get my revenge?” Whisper asks.
“I didn’t want to bring that up,” Tangle says, pecking Whisper on the cheek. “Bring up bad memories.”
“It’s okay,” Whispers says, patting Tangle’s hand. “I’m helping people. I don’t need to get my vengeance. I’m finally… at peace.”
—
Whisper crawls through the dark room, her back arched, her fur frazzled, teeth revealed, even though she knows her opponent cannot see her. The fleeting memories of Tangle’s love for her disappear as she reverts to some primal self, something she wants to unleash. Something she needed to throw at the monster that ruined her life, but she couldn’t.
A howl rises from the other side of the chamber, a deep-throated, out-of-the-chest battle cry that would fill a more civilized Mobian with dread. For her, she rears up and rushes forward, huffing, snarling, bounding against the walls, and hopping to a higher vantage point. She pounces where the sound came from, claws extended, ready to dig into whatever they run into.
Lavender hops back, hearing his opponent leap down. He spins, kicking at her with his pointed, clawed toes. They slash at her fur, drawing first blood as it strikes her on the chest.
So, his opponent is female. He could sense it a little when they first entered the room, but now that she’s close and excited by the thrill of battle and yelps in pain, he can catch that tell-tale whiff. Snickering, he licks his lips and charges forward.
Whisper has her feral instincts, burning hatred, and years of training and fighting. She swipes at the approaching wolf, grabbing him by the side of the head, smashing him up against one of the walls, growling, leaning in, pressing her body against his, the warmth of her blood trickling onto him.
He throws his head back, smashing it into her face, sending her stumbling back. The male wolf blots his hand onto his head, feeling that slick blood, definitely his. He shakes off, snorts, and tackles the female.
Whisper sniffs and snorts, blood trickling down her smashed nose and to her mouth, soon falling against the wall as Lavender slams into her, digging his claws into her sides, snapping his jaws and snarling as teeth brush against her. She squirms and dodges, her knee raising up, colliding with his junk as he touches her shoulder.
He yelps, tears welling up in his eyes. She doesn’t relent, repeatedly smashing into his balls each time a pathetic yiping yowl rises from him as his baby makers are crushed and pulverized. He opens his mouth and snaps it shut, chomping on her, tearing through muscle, making the blood bubble up, filling his mouth, and bloodlust.
Whisper flails her hand at his face, digging deep against him, claws scraping down the side, tearing his brow, eye, and cheek. He roars out in pain as she slams her knee against his cock again, sending him away as he grasps his face, coughing, groaning.
Whisper stands, grasping her shoulder, squeezing and unsqueezing her fist, checking to see if it still works. She spits, partially to get the blood out of her mouth, to disrespect her opponent, and then she kicks him in the side, sending him tumbling onto his back.
She leaps upon him, digging her toe claws into his thighs, her hands straight for his throat. She presses her thumbs against him, leaning in, putting all the pressure she can, even though her shoulder pops and blood spills down her fur, and onto him, she squeezes.
He gasps and gurgles, rocking about and grasping her wrists. He digs his thumbs into her arms, pushing her off him, coughing and wheezing as she tears free from his throat. The slick wetness of blood, maybe his, runs down his chest, and he gulps desperately for air, rolling her over and throwing punch after punch at her face as he pins her down.
Whisper yelps and yipes as she swipes at him, but her dodges and punches her repeatedly, his knuckles getting bloody, and his vision, though pitch black, goes red.
She grabs him again by the balls, squeezes, and squeezes!
He roars, falling off of her, tearing up her arms, kicking up her legs, and whining as something pops down there, sending wave after wave of pain up throughout his whole body, his scream so loud and high octave as to pierce the dark room and reverberate all the way into the vent system.
—
Lavender sits alone after the group meeting, sighing fidgeting his fingers.
“Hey,” Whisper says, sitting beside him, draping her arm over his shoulder. “Are you alright?”
“I’ve… had a relapse today,” he says. “I saw them… all of them, mowed down by badniks, and… and the commander… he just… he just joked about it. He threw us into the meat grinder and then made a pun about the wave being washed out. I was so angry, and… and I imagined myself just… wringing his stupid red neck until those dumb purple eyes bulged out.”
“Hey… no, listen, it’s okay,” Whisper says, pulling him close. “We can both get through this together, alright? That’s what the group is for.”
Lavender smiles, leaning against her. “Thanks, Whisper. I know I can count on you.”
________________
Outside the black chamber, the viewers in the virtual reality pods writhe and squirm, grins and grimaces plastered upon their muzzles. Though they all miss what happens above them, as a pair of violet eyes watch from the ventilation system, brows furrowed at the sight.
Inside, a long howl precedes a protracted whimper as Lavender falls to the ground, sweat beading on his head, his breathing in heavy huffs. Between his legs is a sea of pain he had never experienced before, the burning reminder in his body that something is terribly wrong.
The creature that had so mutilated him hovers over him, her clawed grip slick with the oozy bloody pulp that was one of his testicles, but she doesn’t relish in the gore. Instead, she swipes down, gripping the back of his skull with the same hand that crushed his manhood and slams him to the floor.
Whisper grinds the wolf’s face against the rough ground, grating his nose against the concrete, her breath quick, her growls filling his ears, her teeth so close.
This is no longer the sound of an animal fighting for survival. It is the call of a predator toying with its prey.
Lavender’s instincts kick in, and the adrenaline pumps through his veins. Even though so much blood is lost already, he thrusts a heel back, striking her wherever she can.
Successfully, he connects between her legs, the pain searing through her. It’s nowhere near as bad, but it allows her to flinch enough for him to knock his head back against her muzzle!
Yelping, Whisper hops back, running her thumb along her teeth, feeling the crack in one of her fangs, and cursing under her breath.
Lavender’s ears twitch. For a split second, there’s some kind of recollection. There’s some knowledge that he cannot process, doesn’t want to process, but it’s not enough to stop her from rushing forward, slamming a fist straight into his stomach!
Blood and spit erupt from the male, spilling out onto the matted fur of the female. She then rushes around him, wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing her chest against his back, and kicking his leg.
This knocks him to his knees, and she holds him, her hot and ragged breath breathing down onto him, strong arms squeezing his windpipe.
His mind goes hazy, splotches of light filling his mind, soon replaced by cubes, and behind those cubes, the floating jackal who, with a wave of his hand, cut a swathe through all of Lavender’s allies, leaving a crater just at his feet.
He should have died that day, just like the others.
Calm overwhelms the male wolf, the blood between his legs and the wounds over his body dripping and pooling. His claws, once gouging and tearing at the arm around his throat, weaken, his breath becomes rattling coughs, and he smiles even as oblivion begins to pull its curtain over him.
And he sighs, perhaps the last sigh in his life.
But that’s when he collapses on the floor, his snout smashing against the ground again.
Whisper steps back, her body trembling and aching. Was that what she thought she heard? A gasp fills the darkened room as some semblance of her sensible Mobian nature replaces the monstrous bloodlust that pumps through her veins and christens her fur.
With new breath in his lungs, Lavender leaps up and spins around, rushing forward, two claws going straight for her face!
Whisper smells his approach to grab his attack, only to have her damaged arm give out against the terrible talons that dig into her face, carving its way down from her brow down past her eye!
She elbows him in the sternum, stepping back, more drops of blood falling to the ground, and now the two begin to slip and slosh through the spilled mix of fluids that stains the floor.
Noticing this, Whisper’s feet plant in the only dry spots she can find, growling a challenge.
Lavender rushes at her again, the coordination he has lessened with every moment he has left in him. He swipes at her side, the desire to tear her apart and to spill her open, to make her die and to again be the last one to survive. That is all that matters.
And his claws connect, digging into her, into fat, through muscle, puncturing.
But Whisper holds her ground, and she grabs his wrist, and she digs her claws in, yanking.
Lavender’s foot slips, his arm follows the pull of the wolf, and he is in a free-fall for all but a few moments.
This sends with a sickening crunch as Whisper falls upon him, her maw wrapping around his throat, biting down, breaking through vertebrae, cutting off his connection to the rest of his body.
She lifts her head, tearing out what is left of the creature beneath her, letting the warm spray and splatter fall over her hot torso. When she spits out the meat, she rears back, howling, her voice echoing throughout the facility.
And Lavender lays there, not needing to close his eyes in the darkness but enjoying the comfort of doing so. While his body becomes numb and his inability to breathe wraps his whole form, he imagines that he has been wiped out for a moment, like so many others.
And he is finally free of his curse.
—
Clutch stumbles out of his device, clutching his throat, on his hands and knees, gulping, gasping for breath.
“You got really into the roleplay, haven’t you?” Rouge says, stepping out of her own pod. “It’s intense, isn’t it? And you were the one who wanted the bloodsport.”
Breezie fans herself, standing up, her legs wobbling. “There’s no way… this is a viable business model. You’d run out of people with this kind of… of animal instinct.”
“Oh,”  Rouge coos. “I don’t think I will. If you two are interested, I have one last thing to show you both.”
________________


A final doorway opens into the deepest parts of Rouge’s secret arena. Beyond the hyper-realistic virtual reality pods and the most brutal of fights is a server room, lined with many devices processing so much data simultaneously. At the center of that data is a capsule, a clear vessel capped on either side in red.
“Just what are you selling us here?” Clutch says, tapping his cane on the floor. “We already know this whole enterprise needs a ton of juice behind it.”
“It’s not juice, dear,” Breezie says. “This is computing something. The most advanced AI systems in the world would have to run off of technology such as this.”
Rouge strokes the lid of the capsule, nodding. “As usual, Breezie knows her stuff when it comes to robotics. This is an advanced AI situation, and I’ll have my advanced AI assistants tell you what we’re dealing with right here.”
“Assistants? If you had assistants, you should have told us,” Clutch snarls.
Behind him, blue numbers materialize, taking on the form of a humanoid woman, twice the height of the Mobians, dressed in a lab coat and a black skirt. When she speaks, her voice is monotone. “We needed to know that you were willing to see this through to the end before I could have revealed myself.”
“And who exactly are you?” Breezie asks, narrowing her eyes.
Placing a hand on her chest, the woman nods, saying. “I am Dr. Robotnik—at your service.”
“Robotnik!?” Clutch whirls around, pointing his cane at Rouge. “What are you pulling here, Rouge? I, whoa!”
The floor deforms and rises, taking on a Mobian form. The lynx emerges from it and grabs his cane, shaking her head. “Not so rash now, Clutch. You need to see what the good doctor and I have been cooking up.”
“Speaking of which,” Rouge says, stepping from the capsule. “It’s done.”
A soft hum fills the capsule, and soon, a hologram warms to life, showing to everyone in the chamber a familiar sight—the face of Lavender the Wolf.
“So what?” Says Clutch, tugging his cane from the holo-lynx. “What’s this some kind of tribute to the loser?
Rouge lifts her leg up high and smashes her heel onto the device. It shatters, breaking into pieces and sending a flash of light that causes the two bystanders to shield their eyes.
By the time they Breezie and Clutch can see it again, they gasp.
Rouge holds her hand out, and the naked figure on the ground grasps it genderly, standing, his legs wobbling.
“The energy investment from the Sol Empire… the research on converting robots into flesh-and-bone, the infrastructure of the Eggman Empire, and a test subject, someone who was most assuredly dead but could plausibly come back without raising too much notice.”
“Infinite!?” Breezie gasps.
“Indeed. Now then,” Rouge says, guiding the newly generated and naked wolf before her. “May I present to you Lavender the Wolf?”
“How!?” Clutch snarls.
Dr. Robotnik floats past the two of them, waving her hand and producing documentation on holographic screens for them. “We call it ‘Project—Extra Life. It’s a fitting evolution of my family’s legacy.”
“Speaking of which,” Nicole adds, “Shadow’s DNA was also helpful. Good thing he’s been leaving it all over the arena.”
“And what better way,” Rouge says, “to use life-saving technology than to put it to use bringing back fighters after they’ve been ripped into shreds?”
“And not only can we bring the dead back from the brink with this technology, but alter their appearance, so they may fight again and again with no one being the wiser.”
“Infinite potential for fighters,” Clutch breathes.
“Infinite profits,” Breezie chuckles.
“So, do we have a deal?” Rouge coos.
—
Tangle holds the bandaged and bloodied Whisper, helping her friend limp out of the back alley entrance and onto the streets of Mobotropolis. The lemur says nothing to the wolf but instead just hugs her closely.
Whisper rests her head upon her girlfriend, her thoughts burning. How much did Tangle see? What does she know about the wolf’s deep and dark secret? The pit in her stomach grows, but despite this, the wolf smiles, a toothy, bloody grin away from her lover’s gaze. She had won… she had survived. That’s all that matters.
“Hey. What the hell are you two doing?”
Tangle stops and looks over her shoulder, standing in the street is Alissa the Wolf, dressed in her nice suit, narrowing their gaze at the two fighters.
“Taking my partner home!”
Alissa narrows her eyes, sniffing the air. “Whisper,” she growls. “I smell battle on you. Tell me where you had it.”
Whisper glares at the other wolf, a growl rising from her throat.
Tangle presses her hand on the wolf’s cheek, nuzzling against her. “Shh… shh… just… go on. Tell her.”
—
Sally Acorn approaches the location, texted to her by that bitch of a wolf, Alissa. The princess stops and stares up at the strange establishment. “Club Rouge?” she asks, frowning.
Out of the alleyway steps out her rival, growling softly. “Yeah, and something smells funny.”
“You sure it’s not your unwashed fur?”
Alissa smirks. “Good, good, get worked up, pampered bitch. Something’s happening  under your nose because you have it shoved so far up your ass.” She tosses a card over to Sally.
Sally catches it with no problem and glances at it. “The hell is this?”
“Something someone has to pay for,” Alissa says, cracking her knuckles. “You in?”
Sally smirks, dropping the card. “Hell yeah, I am. Let’s do this thing.”
The two snarl at each other, entering the building, all because of the signage on the card. An image of a chipmunk and a wolf entwined and grinding against each other, scratch marks over them, the mascots of a business. The Mobotropolis Colloseum, home of the sexiest, deadliest fights!”