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Rocketing Around the Galaxy

Part 4

For GlynWolf

By Draconicon

Finding Ventman was a stroke of brilliant luck, though that luck was somewhat tainted once they had to get back to work. Or rather, once Glyn had to get back to work. After all, he had come in as a whore, and he had to maintain that cover.

At least Ventman and the rest were a little more aware of him and didn't brutalize his ass the way that the others had. Still took him hard, though. Fuckers. Probably getting back at him for all the times that they didn't get to enjoy him while he was on the stage back at that other station.

He groaned when they were finally done, left in the barracks with nothing but a whizzing feeling going through his head and a great deal of dizziness. Also a feeling of being dirty. Really dirty. Really. Really. Really dirty.

The timber wolf groaned as he rolled onto his side, feeling his pucker stretched out and puffy. It was kind of like that feeling that one sometimes got when they had a serious case of the runs, when so much had come out and the hole felt puffy and pushed out, except that in this case, it had come about from all the dicks that he'd been taking. He groaned under his breath as he felt the slime of orgasms, load after load, slowly pushing past his pucker and bringing with them a dull ache.

Mmmph...how do the real whores do this day in and day out?

He didn't know. He wasn't sure that he wanted to know.

As he laid there, he debated getting up and finding his way to Rocket, but he knew that his legs were going to collapse out from under him the moment that he did. He was too broken down for the moment, and needed to get his strength back.

Squelch.

"Mmmph..."

He groaned as he felt another little squirt from under his tail, another bit of someone's load sliding from his broken, gaping hole down his ass cheeks. It puddled under his hips, his balls pulling up for a moment at the naughty, messy feelings that came with it. It was somewhat sexy, somewhat nasty, and he wasn't quite sure what his feelings were on the matter. All he knew was that he was already rather messed up, and he was going to get messier if he didn't find someplace to put all those creampies.

Should get up...

Even if his legs felt like they were going to come out from under him, better to try. The cum-soaked timber wolf swung his legs over to the side of the bed, holding one hand under his ass and the other to prop himself up. He pushed himself up -

"Oof!"

And promptly fell right on his face. Right. His legs were not up for this, and now he was on all fours, ass up and face down. Lovely.

Click. The door to the barracks opened, and someone walked in. They were barefoot, from the sound of it; toe claws and something else, pads, probably, hitting the floor as they walked along. Not a big person, either.

"Nnnngh..." Glyn tried to speak, but a groan was all he could muster. Whoever it was walked around the corner of the bed, a short shadow falling over him. "Nnngh..."

"Whoa. Geez. They did a number on you, huh?"

Rocket. At least there was that. Not another soldier that was going to -

"Man, and here I thought you'd be better at this."

"Nnngh..."

"Hey, don't you start back-talking me. Jesus, fuck. Look at this mess. I'm gonna have to hump you all day to get you smelling right again."

"..."

"Yeah, you heard me. I'm not letting them stink you up. You think I want to smell that many guys on you when I'm having my fun?"

...Right. Owned wolf. Forgot.

Rocket hopped onto the bed behind him, pushing his ass with one bare sole. Warm raccoon toes curled against his ass cheeks, almost like fingers considering their sheer length and flexibility. They curled in towards his asshole for a moment, then seemed to think better of it and rested on his cheeks proper.

"Heh, gotta admit, it's a hot view from back here. You enjoy yourself, kid?" Rocket asked.

"I'm thinking...not as much as you...enjoyed yourself," he muttered, his voice a little scratchy from the number of dicks that had gone down his throat. Not the easiest thing to learn to talk around, he had found out. It was one thing deepthroating the raccoon behind him a few times a week, but it was something else getting face-fucked and ass-fucked at the same time for hours. It was really something different.

Kinda satisfying, too, on some levels, though not something that he would ever admit to Rocket. The raccoon chuckled.

"What's the matter? The sneak-slut can't take getting fucked?"

"Mmph..."

"Think I could probably fit my foot up your ass from here."

"Please don't..."

"You telling me what to do?"

"..."

"Good thing for you, we don't have time for that. I'm on break from the boss, and he doesn't want to wait for long."

"Then why are you - mmmph..."

One of those toes traced around his pucker. At his current, smaller size, Rocket was just big enough that those feet were long, but not particularly wide. It was eminently possible that the raccoon could literally shove a foot up his ass right then and there, and it was something that he realized that he was almost - almost - looking forward to.

He bit off that reaction. He really didn't need that fetish right then and there.

"Here's what you gotta know. That son of a crap's got some serious things for my feet, so he's going light on me. He's gonna be bored soon, though, and probably want something I ain't gonna give him after that. The minute he tries to put hands on my ass, I'm gonna have to take steps. That's gonna set off all kinds of alarms."

"Mmmph..."

"And we're not gonna have a clear shot to the ship. Not without some help."

"Got it...taken care of."

"Yeah? How'd you manage that? Convince all the guys fucking your ass to change sides?" Rocket asked with a chuckle.

"Kinda."

"...What, seriously?"

"Heh. Yeah. Seriously."

"...Your ass's good, but it's not that good. What did you promise them?" Rocket asked, narrowing his eyes.

Glyn just smiled. He'd promised them a lot, but not anything that they wouldn't be able to fulfill. Ventman wanted a good, clean break from the asshole that was running things here, and just needed a reason to stab the guy that killed Jonas in the back. All they needed to do was give it to him.

"I have my ways."

"..."

"You get it done...and I'll be ready."

"You better be."

Rocket got up, walking off. For the first time in a while, he had a good view of Rocket from behind, and Glyn had to admit one thing: he couldn't blame the top guy for wanting a turn at Rocket's ass.

As the raccoon left, the timber wolf dragged himself to his feet and trundled off towards the refresher. He was going to need a hell of a shower to get all that gunk off him, and more to the point, he needed to be ready to run. Rocket was right about one thing; not having a clear shot to the ship was something that would fuck them over, and he needed to be sure that Ventman was ready to clear them a route.

Once he was clean, though certainly not dressed, he left the barracks. The metal walkways of the base were open to space, with a see-through energy field keeping the atmosphere where it belonged. Not a great sort of feeling, really, considering that you could see black holes everywhere, and the cold of space sapped most of the warmth out of the otherwise decent-feeling base.

That said, it meant that most of the soldiers inevitably looked up rather than staring at him all the time, and that was a compromise that the naked timber wolf could live with.

Shaking his head, he wound his way over to the green-skinned alien commander. Ventman didn't look down at him, but did make room for him on the bench he was using. The metal walkways extended out in all directions. In a normal space station, the spaces between the pathways would have been filled with holograms of flowers or gardens or something like that. Here, it was just empty steel at best, and holes in the ground at worst. Glyn winced as he imagined some drunk soldier making his way back to the barracks, missing a step, and falling into oblivion.

"You got something to tell me?" Ventman muttered, one hand idly making its way to the wolf's shoulders, then going down his back. "Or just looking to keep making money?"

"Not like you're paying me for this."

"Heh, not yet."

"..."

"Just saying, offer's open after this whole thing's over."

Tempting, but - he hissed as he felt that hand reaching his ass, one stubby finger rubbing against his pucker. He had managed to get the massive ball of mostly-liquid mess out of him, but his hole was still sensitive, still puffy. Glyn forced himself to breathe normally, looking up at the blackness as that finger worked into him.

"My partner's getting ready to make a break for it."

"Fuck. Already?"

"Yeah, not my plan, either."

He'd been hoping to settle in for a day or two, something to bring the commander's suspicion down, but Rocket's impatience and unwillingness to let someone else top him was going to get them in trouble this time. He glanced towards the command tower - the biggest structure on base, four stories tall - and wondered if they were already ticking down to that moment. Probably were.

"He's going to come out of the tower. We need a clear shot to the ship."

"...Which one's yours?" Ventman asked, the alien flicking his eyes along the hangar bays.

"Docking Bay 30."

"Fucking hell. I knew Knives was up to something."

"Knives?"

"The guy that the commander used to kill Jonas. Second in command."

"...Fuck."

"Yeah. This is gonna get fucked real fast. Any chance that you can get him to hold off? Make your partner wait for a day or two?"

Rocket answered that before he could get a word out. An explosion rocked the station from behind, and both of them whipped their heads around to see a raccoon a foot taller than Glyn leaping from the top story of the command tower. A wire-rope strung out behind him, and he shouted at the top of his lungs as he swung forward, holding something over his head.

"Haha! Got it!"

"...I'm going to say no," Glyn said.

"Fucking - okay, looks like we're improvising." Ventman pulled his hand back, wiping it on his armor before pulling a pistol from his belt. "Take this and get moving. I'll get the men mobilized."

"And you?"

"Heh. Someone's gotta cover your ass. You got a payday to get for us, remember? Get running."

Glyn nodded, giving the alien a salute before running down the path. Rocket was leaping from building to building, the oversized raccoon obviously having used that drug from earlier to make his escape possible.

Just had to make yourself as big a target as you could, didn't you? Glyn thought as he ran along at ground level. Next time, we do this with a fucking plan...

They met up in one of the corridors. Docking Bay 30 was around the far side of the base, well away from the barracks. It was meant as a trading bay, as far as Glyn had been able to work out, used to house outsider ships that weren't going to be hanging around for long. Thus, it meant that the ships were held far, far from the rest of the base, and it was a hell of a run to get there.

On the plus side, that meant that there were a lot of security checkpoints, some of which were much easier to sabotage than others.

"I don't think that's going to hold for long," Glyn said as he stepped back from the console. "But should buy us four minutes or so."

"That'll be good enough."

Rocket shook his head, and Glyn did his best not to stare at the other man. The fact that Rocket was taller than him again, with thicker arms, thighs, and pecs, meant that it was really, really hard not to stare at the other male. The bigger dick didn't make it easier, either, and neither did the larger paws.

Mmmph...he's going to fuck me when we get back to the ship, alright...he's going to fuck me hard...

The pair of them put the latest security door behind them, and Glyn did his best to ignore the hissing sound of what sounded like a metal cutter brought to bear. They were going to avoid hacking this one, just trying to cut right through. Lovely. That meant that they had even less time than he thought.

However, there was something of a problem just ahead of them.

Rather than a squad of soldiers, there was just one mercenary ahead of them, one fighter. He was red-skinned, looking more like a demon than a person, and he had a pair of tentacles that came down from large bumps on the top of his head. This guy wore armor that was made of black plates with a few red lines humming through it, and he waited for them with a pistol in one hand and a knife in the other. Bulky, broad-shouldered, and the sort of guy that looked like he could take anything that you threw at him: this had to be Knives.

"Careful," he muttered to Rocket as they ran at him.

"Hey, you tell him that."

"I'm not sure I - down!"

Glyn threw himself forward as that knife went from sitting in Knives's hand to flying down the hallway. Rocket tried to dodge, only to yelp.

"Hey! Asshole! Watch the fur!"

"Heh, I'm surprised you were quick enough. Let's see if you can dodge the next one."

Knives flicked his hand back and forth. There was no sign of him drawing another weapon, but no sooner had his hand come forward than something was whistling through the air. Rocket jumped sideways, but not fast enough. A line of red appeared along his upper arm, fur cut and the flesh parted just beneath it.

"Fuck!"

"Hmmm, a fast little mammal. I'll be interested to see how well you can keep that up..."

Shoom!

Glyn pulled the trigger on his pistol, cutting the monologuing down and forcing Knives to duck his head to avoid the ricochet off the ceiling. The timber wolf was already rolling to the side as the return shots came, avoiding being pelted by a few lasers and firing back as best he could. Awkwardly, of course, as he couldn't get a good shot while rolling around, but at least he was firing back, forcing Knives back a few steps and getting behind what little cover there was in the hallway.

He and Rocket managed to find similar spots, indents in the wall that offered at least a hint of cover. The raccoon's cockiness was gone, replaced by sheer rage as he hefted a pistol of his own.

"I swear, I'm using his head as a hood ornament after this..."

"If we can get past him."

"Hey, I can handle this. You just stay where you are."

Rocket pumped his pistol, pulled out from behind cover -

"YIPE!"

Only to duck right back behind it as a flurry of knives came flying down the corridor. No fewer than twelve, all in rapid succession. The raccoon panted, shaking his head.

"Motherfucker's got a lot of those things..."

"Where the hell's he keeping them?" Glyn asked, not daring to poke his head out. "I didn't even see anything."

"Belt. He's got a distributor built into the back."

"How - when did you see that?"

"Didn't. But it's gotta be."

"So, how do you deal with that?" Glyn asked.

"That's where you come in. Bait time."

"...Oh, fuck me..."

"After."

Rocket nodded, and Glyn knew that they didn't have time to argue. That security door further down the hall wasn't going to hold for much longer, and if they weren't moving soon, they were going to be trapped between the two groups of mercs. The timber wolf mouthed 'I hate you' at the raccoon, and leaped across the hallway.

The knives went flying, and Glyn screamed in unmitigated terror as he hit the ground and kept crawling. He didn't even bother trying to shoot back. All he did was run, run, run as fast as he could. Couldn't catch him, he was the gingerbread -

Shoom!

Rocket's blaster bolt caught Knives in the gut, and the blade-thrower stumbled backwards, gasping in shock. He tried to throw a knife, failed, pulled up his pistol -

Shoom!

Rocket caught the man in the wrist, knocking the weapon out of his hand. Knives glared at them, ducking the next shot and rolling out of the way of the third.

"Get back here, you asshole!" Rocket shouted.

"No time!" Glyn warned him.

The 'clang' that followed confirmed that the door further into the base had come down. They were out of time to fight. The raccoon narrowed his eyes, but nodded, and the two of them ran through the door to the docking bay.

Rocket's ship was still there, and Groot was waiting in the doorway, holding the gangplank open. The two of them rushed up, blaster bolts chasing them into the ship, and Rocket ran for the cockpit.

"Get this thing running, Groot! I want us off the ground now!"

"I am Groot."

"I don't care about the cooling system right now, just get the engine running!"

"On it," Glyn shouted.

They were off the landing pad with little extra damage, though they had one other rather large problem. Not so much the black holes and how they blocked the way out, though that was a problem.

No, the big problem were all the mercenary ships between them and the way out. A swarm of fighters waited for them on all sides of the base, no less than a dozen in any direction, and the minute that they picked a route, the others would swarm them from behind. Glyn knew that Rocket was a good pilot, but he wasn't that good a pilot.

He looked across the cockpit at the raccoon, waiting for some witticism to prove him wrong, but for the first time, his 'business partner' actually looked worried. He looked like...like he wasn't sure what to do.

Shit...

They were at the point of the sky where they'd have to pick a route. Fighters ranging from needle-like craft to large disks were slowly rotating around them, waiting for the chance to come roaring in and pick them off. The only reason that they hadn't been blown out of the sky already was because of the damn artifact that they'd stolen, and that wouldn't provide armor for much longer. It would be better for them to be taken out rather than be allowed to run, and that...that would come through as an order before long.

"Well?" Rocket muttered.

"Well, what?" Glyn asked.

"I thought you said that you had a way out."

"I thought you meant out of the base."

"I meant getting us the hell out of here. All the way out."

"You didn't exactly say that, you know."

"I shouldn't have to, you piece of -"

KABOOM!

One of the ships to their right suddenly exploded, then another, and another. Debris fell like deadly rain towards the mercenary base below, and Rocket didn't bother questioning it. The ship roared as the raccoon threw it into a near-deadly turn, Glyn almost blacking out before the compensators kicked in.

"I don't know who's shooting, and I don't fucking care! We're getting the hell out of here!"

The raccoon might not care, but Glyn did. He looked down at the scanners, taking a moment to pick out all the different pieces before he saw it.

One ship, surrounded by needle-nose fighters, had taken off from the base. It was five times the size of any of the fighters, past freighter-size, though not quite a cruiser. It had a battering ram for a front, and it bristled along the back with all kinds of missile launchers, all of which were firing in that moment.

It was also Jonas's old ship. He guessed that Ventman had 'inherited' it, as well as the company.

That's what he meant, huh?

He stared at the ship rising up. The missiles were still firing, still blasting away at the various ships coming after Rocket and the ones turning to face him. The Blown Away, as the ship was called after Jonas was said to have been by its design, continued to rise, following in the wake of Rocket's ship. Much slower, of course, but...well, it had the firepower to keep up with them.

"You know the pilot of that thing?" Rocket asked.

"Kinda."

"Must really love your ass."

Goes a little deeper than that, man...and a lot gooier.

They broke through the blockade of smaller fighters between them and the way out, and as soon as they were free of the black holes, Rocket jumped them to warp. They were soon well out of reach, hopping between different jump points in rapid succession.

When they finally stopped, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, Rocket was short with them. The raccoon told Glyn to get a shower, then meet him in his bedroom. The raccoon disappeared after that, anger written all over his face. Why, Glyn didn't know, but he did know that he needed to do something else, first.

He excused himself from the cockpit, leaving Groot there to keep an eye on things, and made his way down to the engine room. He stopped at the back of it, opening the more mechanical parts, and set to fiddling.

Shift that one over...make that one grind over here instead of over there...adjust the ticks...

He had promised to leave a trail for Ventman to follow, and the best way to do that was to adjust the trail that the ship left. It would serve a two-fold purpose; the other mercs wouldn't be able to track them by their emissions, and Ventman would be able to follow the coded trail that Glyn was leaving behind. It wasn't perfect, and he'd need to be sure that his old colleague would remember how to read it, but it was better than nothing.

And it was better than leaving a dead-drop message, or sending off a ping with the ship's communication system. Rocket would notice those a lot faster than he would notice a bit of timing off with the engine.

Once it was done, he closed the panel up again, taking a few deep breaths as he patted the chassis. It was hard to believe, but they were getting close to the end-game now. They just needed one more piece.

One more piece...one more piece, and we go to Nidavellir, and we'll be rich...or powerful...or both...

And he'd have Ventman waiting to help him get the weapon back from Rocket so he wasn't under the raccoon's heel for the rest of his fucking life. They were supposed to be partners, but he had no way of breaking out from the junior partner role...let alone any chance of getting the goods. Considering the way that Rocket had treated him so far, he was pretty sure that he was going to get screwed out of the weapon once they had it, and considering that it would be Rocket and Groot against him, and he had no chance against either of them, let alone both...

Yeah, he'd need Ventman. He'd need him bad.

And then I have to pay him...

Which would take getting the treasure and selling it, but he could part with power for money. Particularly if he was able to think of a good con to get the money without actually parting with the weapon.

It's a thought.

But for now, he had to get up to a very angry raccoon and hope that he could keep Rocket from figuring out what the plan was. After all, this would only work if the bounty hunter was completely in the dark as to what the timber wolf had planned.

Hustling up to the top part of the ship, he found Rocket sprawled out on his bed, one paw up and the other on the floor, and his cock hard as a rock. Clearly, he wasn't ready to just let this opportunity slide. Glyn put on a half-faked smile, reached to shut the door -

"Leave it open."

"You want to give Groot a show or something?"

"Heh, I like the idea of an audience."

Rocket curled his finger, and Glyn went with it, making his way to the bed. He knelt down before he was told, only to have one of the raccoon's feet up against his crotch instantly, pressing down on his shaft and guiding it between the raccoon's toes.

"Mmmph..."

"So, you made some friends while you were a whore, huh?" Rocket asked. "Some friends with some big guns..."

"Mmmph...maybe..."

"When were you gonna tell me about that?"

"Nnngh...not like we had a lot of time for - mmmph!"

The other large, somewhat damp foot pressed against him then, shutting him up and making him focus entirely on those soles. They were hot, they were slippery, and they had his cock completely pinned between the two of them. Glyn thrust up once, twice, three times before Rocket forced him back, all but standing on his cock, and nearly standing on his balls.

"You want to try that again, pup?"

"...Sorry, sir."

"That's better. Heh. Still love that."

No doubt that the raccoon did. He seemed to love everything that put him over the other people in his life, whether that was some new title or something that made him bigger and stronger than the other people around him. The drug was a big example of that.

Slowly, Rocket sat back down again, easing some of the pressure from the timber wolf's cock and balls. Not all of it, but enough to not be worried about something getting damaged. The raccoon hooked the tip of Glyn's cock and pulled it down, almost like he was making it bow down before him.

"Now...you gonna tell me about them?"

"Just...part of a group I used to work with. Got lucky with that."

"Lucky, huh? You sure that you didn't know that they were there?"

"I...didn't."

It was a lie, and a big one. The first one that he had actually told Rocket of this caliber, as a matter of fact, and the first one that would really land him in trouble if Rocket called his bluff. Looking up, he gritted his teeth, panting as those slick toes batted his cock back and forth between them.

"I didn't know...they were there. Heard that some guys got snapped up from the other station. Figured it might be a possibility, but...but had other...other plans."

"That's all?"

"That's all."

The moment stretched out, and Rocket narrowed his eyes at him, the raccoon clearly trying to guess if he was lying or not. Glyn kept his mouth shut; he knew well enough that anything else would look like he was trying to defend himself, and it would all but confirm that he was lying. He'd said exactly as much as he needed to say. He had to trust that it would be good enough.

Eventually, Rocket chuckled.

"I knew you were just lucky."

...Too close...

"Now, let's get to work showing you who you really belong to, again. That weapon's a good payment for the future, but you still need to give your interest payment to keep me from turning you in." Rocket hefted his cock, slapping the timber wolf across the cheek with it. "So, pup. Get me interested."

Glyn took hold of the raccoon's cock, feeling his own humiliation rising, and his cock, too. Despite everything, this still turned him on. He shivered as he dragged his nose up Rocket's balls, gradually making his way to the head. It was going to start with a blowjob, and he was pretty sure one way or another, Rocket was going to end up kicking his ass before the night was out.

He just wished he didn't look forward to it so much.

The End

Summary: Glyn finds a way out, and Rocket nearly wrecks everything.

Tags: M/M, Prostitution, Wolf, Timber Wolf, Raccoon, Alien, Humiliation, Interrogation, Fighting, Sci-Fi, Series, Foot Fetish, Creampie, Cum,