A/N: Apologies for taking so long to bring you this chapter, I was somewhat busy. I was also struggling with finding the power to write, as, for some reason (or another) I've been unable to really sit down and get to it. It's complicated, I'll say, and I'll leave it at that.
DO TELL ME what you think. Was it worse than previous chapters? Was it better? Why was it either?


The Impostor hurriedly dashed through, making as much noise as possible, so as to make it known that someone was moving about. Scaring the crew even more would be a perfect solution to some of the problems currently looming over the villain's shoulder. Having turned the lights off, and knowing that it was likely they would not get fixed for a long, long time, the Futa was certainly going to have a large enough window of opportunity to get rid of another one of the sexy ladies on board.

There it was, the doorway leading into Communications, and, beyond it, probably sat down in her chair, was Mocha. The Impostor slid through and got a good look at her, knowing they would remain completely unnoticed, unless they made a sound, of course. The short girl was so incredibly shapely, it left the Futa's cock stiffening as soon as they laid their eyes on that massive, unreasonable rear.

It should not have been physically possible, in all honesty, to have a rump that large, considering how tall she was, but there it was, a testament to the biological possibilities of humanity. The thoughts of the Impostor were already clouded with lust, but they remained relatively level headed. No room for errors, as that could spell doom for them.

While undoing their suit, the villain took a second glance at Communications. The room was on the smaller side, among the smallest three on the entire ship, but that could have been owed up to the fact that it was so cramped with machinery. Three desks, one on each wall, excluding the one now behind the Impostor, each adorned with a massive monitor, displaying information that was nigh-impossible for the villain to understand, not without the proper training, which they were not interested in getting anytime soon.

What they were interested in, however, was that ass, filling out the seat so well that it appeared as if it was made to accommodate those fleshy pillows. The Futa licked their lips and wrapped their left hand's fingers around their stiffening shaft, giving it a good rub. The scent was spreading through the room, and it carried, with it, the pheromones that would set Mocha's pussy on fire.

Beads of pre-cum, already formed at the distended tip of the Futa's cock, rolled down, giving it a sheen that would remain unnoticed by the soon-to-be victim, as the darkness was so viscous it left no possibilities for any observation to be performed. The Impostor, of course, had the necessary hardware to remain capable of seeing in the pitch-black of the lightless vessel, and they could appreciate the majestic stature of their thick shaft.

Then, a gasp came from ahead of them. Mocha moved a bit, as if adjusting herself, but, a second after stopping, she did it again. That was a sign that the effects of the Impostor's pheromones were already affecting the Communication Specialist, and it was the equivalent of the lights changing from red to green.

"Feeling rowdy?" Inquired the villain and reached out, placing their clawed hands on Mocha's neck.

"Wha-" The short girl made to spin the chair around and get a better look at the individual whose fingers were wrapped around her neck, but the Impostor squeezed tightly, stopping her.

"Now, now, I thought you did communication. It's impolite to not answer." Growled the villain and dug their claws into the fabric of Mocha's suit, ripping it while simultaneously releasing the woman.

"You bitch! You'll get what's coming to you!" Cried out Mocha as she attempted to get off the chair, now that the Impostor had let go of her. The Futa was inclined to believe that it would be very difficult for the Communication Specialist to escape, or even resist, now that her outfit was ripped up at a vital point, and they allowed her to stand up.

"Feisty!-" Exclaimed the Impostor, grinning as the woman in front of them looked around blindly, grasping at the desk behind her, trying to not lose her footing. She was not getting far, even if the Futa let her go. "-But your tune'll change." Slyly stated the villain and put their hands behind their head while thrusting their hips towards Mocha.

Their cock bounced alluringly, spraying some beads of pre-cum onto the chair and the technically blind Communications Specialist. The grin spreading over the Impostor's obscured lips only grew more and more vicious. The screens did not throw out much light, almost none at all, due to health concerns for the eyes of their users, and that only made things worse for Mocha, in this moment, at least.

She fumbled, moving about, but the Futa's pheromones had gotten into her, and were slowly spreading through her body, setting her genitals on fire with desire. The Impostor's pre-cum, droplets of which were clinging to Mocha's suit, was also accelerating the process. The villain knew that it would take a long while for the other crewmates to fix the lights. No one was used to trudging about in the darkness. That time would be plentiful, when it came to enjoying the great peach currently wobbling in front of them.

"I'll..." Muttered Mocha, but her words failed her, as if she was struggling to breathe. Her lust was growing, evident by the fact her legs were rubbing close together. She was panting, gasping, overwhelmed by great arousal.

"You'll...?-" Asked the Impostor, making a step closer, keeping their pelvis forward, so that their engorged cock could be the closest thing to Mocha that there was. Its smell was getting carried through the chamber, no doubt infiltrating the woman's nostrils and sending her into a frenzied lust. "You'll do what? Suck my cock?"

At the mention of that word, Mocha almost jumped. It looked as if she had been startled, but the Futa suspected that a chill had ran up her spine. Wrapping their left hand's fingers around the base of their impressive phallus, the villain made another step closer to the woman and placed their other hand on her head.

"Your… No, I-"

"You sure about that?" Interrupted the Impostor, pushing down. Unsurprisingly, Mocha allowed herself to be brought down to her knees. After all, it was more than likely that her legs had become wobbly before the word cock had even been spoken. Right now, her mouth was definitely watering at the prospect of wrapping around a slab of meat.

"I..." She started, as if to refute that, to deny, but then the Futa slightly pushed their long penis, resulting in its slapping against Mocha's visor. She would have been able to see the outline, at least, of that girthy cockhead, the engorged glans, the leaky pre-cum.

"You wanna suck it. Take off your headgear and give it a nice lick." Urged the Impostor and felt a great triumph as Mocha's hands slowly rose and started removing her helmet. It was a slow process, as there was still a measure of uncertainty in the woman's movements, indicative of her willpower fighting against the insane desire brewing in her body.

The Impostor was not totally invested in getting a blowjob, and, by the looks of things, they would have to wait a lot longer until Mocha finally decided to start sucking. As a result of that, the villain made a simple decision - not to bother with it. Pushing the woman forward, which led into her falling on her back, the Futa let go of their cock and put their hands on Mocha's waist.

"Wha-"

"If you're gonna be so slow, I ain't gonna deal with you!" Exclaimed the Impostor and proceeded to turn Mocha around, making her lay on her stomach. That massive peach was now on display, and the Futa felt their mouth watering.

"Wait…-" Muttered the woman as the Villain went on to run their fingers over the soft, almost identical to jelly surface of her buttcheeks. She tried to roll over, though the Impostor could not tell why... Not that it really mattered. "Let me-" Mocha tried to speak, but was interrupted for the Nth time when the Futa pushed her down, by placing a hand on her back.

"Just quiet down, will ya, you chatty, fuckin' bitch?" The Impostor finished their statement by slapping their girthy cock against the bountiful booty that was so seductively sticking out before them. The sound echoed through the room and left tingling skipping over the surface of the Futa's skin, as the jiggle of the large rump gave them a most unique sensation.

Mocha was quite unusual. Her ass was overwhelmingly large, and it seemed to be so massive that it threatened to rip through the tight suit, trying to keep it from being totally uncovered before the horny Futa, that there was barely anything left to the imagination. Shapely, firm, yet soft, it was the ass of a champion, and, not only that, but Mocha's hips were also wide enough to stop her from comfortably fitting in most ordinary chairs with armrests.

The Communication Specialist had stopped resisting and was just panting heavily now, her mind no doubt jumbled by the intense pheromone attack it was trying, and failing, to withstand. The Futa's cock grew so engorged they could feel the fabric of the suit dragging against their veins. That, they decided, would not do.

Their hands slid over the round ass, pushing them together, as the Impostor mouthed silent gasps in astonishment, and then they dug their nails in, tearing through the suit, ripping off chunks of fabric, until Mocha's rear was now laid bare before the Villain. The warmth of her skin, the silky smoothness, the sensation of their shaft just sinking under its own weight, those things left the Impostor feeling themselves fall into a rut. They just had to fuck!

The Impostor took a hold of their shaft, with one hand, and pulled back a bit, aligning their engorged cockhead with Mocha's asshole, while, using their other hand, they spread the massive glutes apart. There, from between the impressive rear's cheeks, peeked a tiny anus that appeared to have been scarcely used.

The Futa prodded at the orifice with their what's tip, slathering it with their pre-cum, barely able to hold themselves back from going in dry… Though, when they thought about it now, the Villain found themselves wondering why were they doing it as if this was a courteous first date's session of lovemaking.

"Try not to bite your tongue." Menacingly urged the Impostor as they pushed their cock's swollen glands into the woman's anus, which elicited a loud moan from the victim. Mocha's hands reached behind herself, as if she was about to try and swat the assertive Futa away, but all she accomplished was to lay them on top of her grand asscheeks and resume her gasping and panting, now accompanied by sensual moans that only elevated the Villain's need to greater heights.

"No-" She managed to sneak in between them, but whatever her plea was going to be ended up cut off by the Impostor, as they buried their meat rod deeper into her ass.

The feeling was superb. It was so, so tight, utterly incomparable to the pussies of either Marble or Scarlet, that the Futa felt as if it was milking their cock, or at least trying to, and that was something they had not felt before. Even if it was only halfway in, the Villain's shaft was forcing its way deeper into Mocha's rear than any other penis she had ever taken up the ass, and she was feeling far better than any man's dick could have made her feel, and the Impostor was willing to bet.

Though, at this moment, neither of them was interested in anything other than continuing their copulation. The Futa's cock was so girthy, they needed to constantly pull back and push it back in, just to be able to shove it a little deeper, all the while Mocha's moans made them want to rail her as hard as possible. The pressure in the Impostor's phallus was so great it almost hurt to just be as erect as they were, so great was their need, but the sensation of the Communication Specialist's ass spreading around and accepting the viciously distended member was more than enough to alleviate that discomfort.

"Come on, you bitch, open up!" Hissed the Impostor and readjusted themselves, placing their hands on Mocha's huge asscheeks, and straddled her legs. Now, the Villain had more leverage to plunge their throbbing cock as deep as it would go inside that colossal rump.

With that, the Futa pulled back, feeling the weight of their dangling testes slap against the underside of their phallus, which brought about the thought of all the cum currently stored inside flooding the woman currently underneath them. Then, the Impostor shoved their pulsing shaft into Mocha's plump, round ass. It slid in, as if it were a plug going into a socket, it felt as if it was meant to be there.

Mocha yowled in pleasure, her senses overwhelmed by the brutal inserting of the Impostor's thick shaft, and she appeared to be trying, subconsciously, to arch her back and throw her head rearward. She had come from just her ass, figured the Villain, and their pleased smile only grew wider as they pulled back, feeling the walls of flesh clenching around it, stimulating them to no end.

The Futa started pumping earnestly, sliding their cock in and out of the Communication Specialist's rear. Their hands roughly grasped the massive asscheeks and started groping them, pushing them together to increase the friction generated by the inner folds of the victim's orifice.

It was incredible. The elation the Impostor felt as that massive ass allowed itself to be kneaded like dough, as the girthy shaft plowed into Mocha's anus and widened it so it would better accommodate the vicious phallus, the great power that the Villain wielded, it all made them feel as if they had reached the peaks of pleasure.

"You fucking bitch!-" They cursed and, feeling the high, slapped the bubbly butt they were currently tearing apart with their cock. The jiggle, the moan, the sensation, as well as the bruise that started forming as soon as their hand was off the soft ass-flesh, left the Futa with an incredible sensation of accomplishment. That had felt far better than they had anticipated.

They slowed down and pushed themselves up on their legs, after which they pushed Mocha forward, forcing her to raise her ass up in the air. It was all well and good to fuck her while she was laying on the floor, but it was far more enjoyable to stand while doing the fucking - after all, that was how they could put power into their thrusts.

"Yeah! Come on, moan, you slut!" Hollered the Impostor and slapped the bountiful rear that was jiggling violently with each of their motions. The lewd, wet sound of their bodies colliding, the gasping and moaning of Mocha, the sensation of their ball-sack slapping against the woman's thick thighs - all those things coalesced into an amalgamation of great ecstasy that drove the Futa's cock into what could only be described as overdrive.

The skin felt so taut, it felt as if it had grown at least three inches, it hurt, and yet it felt so unbelievably good that they just could not stop thrusting their hips into Mocha's ass. Normally, the Futa would want to ejaculate into the victim's vagina, so as to impregnate them as soon as possible, but, considering how good it felt to plow the Communications Specialist's ass, they were prone to make an exception. The cum would still be inside her, and it would still turn her into a mindless cocksleeve - there was nothing to worry about.

Growling fiendishly, the Impostor grasped at Mocha's hips and gave a last few thrusts, so strong and vicious that, were they not overwhelmed by their lust, they would have gotten worried about ripping the skin off their cock. The Futa felt their balls churning, the cum travelling up their urethra, and flexed their pelvic floor muscles, in a futile attempt to stifle the eruption and prolong the pleasure with just a second.

A loud roar of ecstasy filled the chamber as the Impostor came inside Mocha, filling up her ass with so much baby batter that it made them feel wasteful. Their shaft twitched and throbbed, shooting out rope after rope, while the woman underneath just moaned and gasped like a common whore, not that she was any different, from this point onwards.

Sliding their cock out of the loosened asshole, which gaped widely and allowed some of their goopy cum to leak, splashing onto the floor with a very audible, raunchy sound, the Futa breathed a sigh of relief. Even now, their shaft was twitching, as if it was trying to shoot out more cum, but it was coming out empty. A few minutes, and they would be ready for another round, but, as things were, they had work to do.

"Good fuck, bitch. I'll try that pussy next, after I turn all your crewmates into onaholes!" Said the Villain as they put their suit back on and disappeared into the darkness of the Skeld.