A Wolf on Sauria Ch.7
#7 of AWoS
Chains rattled as they climbed the shadows, while gears groaned and water dripped here and there. Sharp sounds to match the shapes patrolling the area.
Krystal was escorted into the bowels of the ship by two Sharpclaw, each with a firm grip on an arm. They brought her to a wide open chamber, grumbling at the feel of a metal grate floor on her bare paws. Rows of cages were stacked to form a maze in the middle of the space, overlooked by pipes and crisscrossing metal catwalks.
They came before a peculiar looking Sharpclaw. He had a flow of hardened copper spilled over his head and down his back, culminating in a lumpy club of slag at the tip of his tail. He looked her up and down, only the most private parts of her body hidden from his eyes. Even to the reptilian eye, she looked appealing and it was no great mystery why the Wolf King wanted to find her.
"Ah! That's the one. Call the grunts back and get everything packed up. We're heading back,"
Reaching for the staff tucked into a strap on her thigh, Copperback disarmed her then gestured to an empty cage with his head. She was ushered in and the door clanged shut then locked. The three of them departed shortly after.
Krystal crossed her arms as she craned her head up analyzing the surroundings. Now she had to find a way to escape, and put the Sharpclaw's air power out of commission. If there was a way to beat the flying fortress, it would probably be from inside.
She was close to being slender enough to squeeze through the bars of the cage. But most likely she'd get her head stuck and then...well, if that wolf showed up? She would be in the perfect position for her tingling loins to be taken advantage of. He'd probably rattle the cage apart as he pounded her and popped his knot past her lower lips. Naked and stuck to a massive muscular feral, connected only by their warm pulsating genitals. He'd drag her around like that, past all his minions as he squirted seed into her womb along the way.
Krystal gave a frustrated sigh as she ran a thumb across the inside of her thong and up the strap over her hip, giving her pussy a brief hint of cooler air. Right on schedule, her heat was making itself known. But before she could suffer long, one of the Sharpclaw returned to her door. One of the grunts that had brought her. He grasped the bars as he looked her over.
Fixing him with a glare, she curled her tail over her midsection but he did have a view of the perky breasts propped on her crossed arms.
"What do you want?"
In response, something rose between the bars. Long, thick and with a smooth and shiny head, not unlike the appearance of a pebble. The member proceeded a ways into the cage, curling up to point directly at her face. The lizard wagged it back and forth.
Eyes locked on the wavering cock, Krystal gripped her tail and watched for a moment. She slid a hand along her fur, removing one of the bands she commonly wore on her tail and letting the tip poof back into its fluffy state. This she took and tied her hair back into a ponytail. And then got down on her knees. A fingertip moved along the underside of the smooth cock and the vein there, toward the double handful of scaly nuts. And then moved past it to carefully slip the big rusty skeleton key off the Sharpclaw's belt.
Krystal had been dreading the moment her heat finally won her over. But this would not be the time. She had already been claimed, and was going to wait for him
An uppercut was delivered to the lizard's nuts and when he fell to his knees, she banged his head against the bars until he was out. She unlocked her cell, a vixen on the loose once more.
The Sharpclaw knights aboard the ship were all particularly big and burly, carrying maces and metallic shields. But they were about as easy to avoid as ever. Krystal slipped right behind one's back, and between a pair of silo-sized boilers.
Others were hard at work, lizard shaped shadows in front of roaring furnaces. The sound of pounding metal and shoveling coal was loud as they toiled to keep their mobile army well equipped. Here she spotted a better way up that wasn't constantly being patrolled- a series of pipes leading along the walls and upwards from the forges into the vertical shaft.
She navigated the spiraling maze of pipes higher, avoiding the jets of leaking steam that seemed to be legally required in such places. A short climb at the top brought her into a cargo area. Sparsely guarded, she made her way quickly through the maze of wooden crates and barrels.
Something stood out though, at the center of the space.
A shiny cargo container, the doors ajar after being forcibly pried open. C-POD 69 was stenciled over top. Krystal only rolled her eyes as she ventured inside. Those lizards had already hauled away most of the contents, except for a chest at the very back. It too was made from space age metal, leaving no way to open it except for a glowing red holographic keypad.
Knowing my luck
She reached down and typed in 6969. Only mildly surprised when the pad blinked green.
A hiss and the top unfolded. Inside was a pile of clothing. Flight suits, made of flexible yet durable plazrubber in black and blue patterns. One was close enough to her dimensions and she slipped into it. Snapping things into place here and there, she looked over the new garb with satisfaction. The material conformed to her body pretty snugly, staying true even to the cleft of her butt cheeks and indent of her belly button. At least she was marginally protected now from roaming lizard eyes and cocks. Something else was stuck behind the crate- a metal orb with glass discs at its cardinal directions. A grenade, which she strapped to her belt just in case.
The Sharpclaw on deck halted as the whine of an engine drew close. A hiss from one, prompting them to scramble for cover and draw weapons as the arwing sped closer on a collision course. Turrets swivelled around in response. Just before crashing, the arwing folded on itself clanking into its walker formation. Fox dropped smoothly on the deck at a run, the shots from several directions sailing over his vehicle. These turrets had been retrofitted with lasers somehow, normally found on spacefaring ship batteries.
Bringing the walker into a crouch, he leapt up onto the closest turret and fired down into it until flames were shooting out of the barrel. He dashed onward as the metal swelled outward and then exploded on his walker's heels. He blasted the next series of turrets on the fly, zig zagging between the outer structures and trampling walkways. Rusty metal and sparks scattered in blooming fireballs against the late afternoon sky.
Near the front of the craft, he found an arrangement of large pulleys and chains holding the now vestigial anchor in place. A burst of lasers melted through it with ease and sent more Sharpclaw scattering. The anchor dropped, and its chain slithered out wildly striking sparks and whipping unlucky Sharpclaw out into the open air. But with the modifications, one of the airship's engines was located directly below. The strong graviton stream sucked the anchor in as it fell just in front of the engine's intake. Ingesting a solid anchor was of course bad for such a sensitive component. It exploded in a bright blue flash that rocked the ship, causing it to tilt slightly before correcting itself.
All lizards on deck were now in full retreat. Fox hopped his walker down an access elevator that had graciously lowered itself for him. At the bottom, he slid out of the cockpit onto a platform. Having collected his gear he was now mostly dressed again and with blaster in hand, set off to rescue his love.