Doom: That's One Doomed Space Marine Part 2 (MF,F-dom,demon)
by Knorg ([email protected])

The Phobos Lab (E1M5)

"Stand." The thrill of command; she felt it course through her as she
ordered the Marine to his feet. (She'd loosed his arm bonds first.) He stood,
straight backed, arms at his sides, looking at her but not meeting her eyes.
She laughed, joyful. Her demonic nature lusted for control, for power over
the weak. This human had made it so close to the Anomaly. If he'd destroyed
its guardians, gone through it... he could have disrupted the Deimos
operation as well as preventing the Duke's schemes here. That would have made
the conquest of Earth so much harder.

But she'd beaten him; beaten him and taken his soul.

The Spider Mastermind was not the kind of demon to take failure lightly, and
would have taken her rage out severely on the Duke of hell (promoted from the
barony). Long before that, had she failed to capture the marine, the Duke
would have taken out his rage on her, slowly, painfully and with millennia of
experience. That is, if either of them had been defeated by the Marine and
somehow survived to be punished.

Now she would take her captive as a gift to the Duke and curry his favour for
the Impkind.

"Follow" she commanded, turning away and hitting the hidden wall switch that
let them both back out into the corridor.

The Joseph Conrad

In high geo-synchronous orbit above Phobos moon, The Joseph Conrad was an
ugly fist of black metal, a troop deployment cruiser; it lacked the sleek
deadliness of a fighter, or the sheer size of a dreadnought. The utterly
silent corridors were dark as the computers continued to send and receive
'stand by' messages with the Union Aerospace Corporation Mars HQ. Nobody was
worried yet. Communications often suffered over even the relatively short
distance to the red planet and through poor atmospheric conditions.

Throughout most of the ship all was still, conserving energy the ship
awaited the Marines return. In Cargo IV there was the exception. Here there
was movement. A rabbit run. It broke regulations, increased the risks disease
spread and worst of all? It threatened the macho image of the space marines.
The general excuse was that the rabbits were being kept as a fresh food
supply; to beat the vacuum packed meals on long deployments and boost morale.

Amongst the hopping, leaping rabbits - all females to avoid out of control
breeding - one sat silent, as if listening. She was large and brown furred,
with white flecks, white fur around her nose and ears. A tiny tag in her ear
bore the surviving Space Marine's serial number.

This rabbit had been captured from the wild, eating on a small hill in one
of the large districts now designated industry free. Much of the industrial
waste that couldn't be otherwise used tended to get barrelled up and stored
on the solar system's moons. Phobos itself was designated a major UAC waste
treatment facility.

After a few moments more, the little brown and white rabbit moved. She darted
forward on top of two nearby bunnies and managed to clear the side of the
run, landing on the deck-plate of the cargo bay. With more fast, darting
movements, the rabbit was through the automatic door and heading down the
corridor. Several turns down dark metal passages she stood outside the hatch
for one of the deck's emergency escape pods.

The rabbit stared at it, sniffed the air again. Then darted inside.

Seconds later, the hatch slammed shut. The pod release had been activated
within; something that should have required intelligent thought.

Blasting away from the side of The Joseph Conrad, the pod dropped through
Phobos upper atmosphere. The hull glowed red as it underwent atmospheric
friction and pressures. It was targeting the Drop-ship's reported site over
which The Joseph Conrad had been maintaining it's Geo-sync position. Miles
above the surface, though buffeted by high winds the tiny barely-fuelled
engines could hardly compensate for, the pod held its course.

Heavy winds were new to the moon. They, along with the rest of the moon's far
heavier and human-friendly atmosphere, had come from the UAC's basic moon
terraforming program. Nobody wanted or needed Phobos to be a nice place to
live, but at least you weren't going to die if you stepped outside without a
vacuum suit on now, and the city sized artificial Gravity units kept things
close to 1G - a tremendous technological achievement.

Dropping further the pod engines gave out and three huge well-built
parachutes blasted from the upper sides, slowing the descent and bringing it
fairly smoothly down to land. The escape pod groaned as it cooled and settled
onto the dirt of Phobos.

The Phobos Lab (E1M5)

"You give him US. You give him NOW" The former humans wanted the Marine, to
make him one of them. A rotting possessed thing.

The Space Marine had been commanded to kneel down next to though slightly
behind the female Imp. Around them were a group of possessed former-grunts
and a couple of shotgun totin' Sergeants. He'd known them in life, knocked
back beers with them. Now his eyes were dull, as he listened to the voice of
the Imp who held his soul. He was naked, stripped, but still didn't feel the
cold recycled air of the facility around him.

"Mine!" she hissed, her voice now beautiful in the ears of the Space Marine,
the demonic harmonics sending pleasure through him. He waited for command.
He yearned to serve her.

The possessed moved closer, crowding around. There was little love lost
amongst the demonic races - they'd happily fight each other - especially
with none of the more powerful demons around to keep order. The Space
Marine's threat contained, most of the surviving demons had moved back to
the Phobos Anomaly to oversee the last preparations before the demon hordes
could move on Earth. Some had already been sent on to Deimos.

Strong possessed hands reached out to pull the Imp down, guns raised...
Despite the incredible strength and speed of the demon, she was being
overpowered. There were many of the grunts, and the soul-taking ritual had
diminished her flame-throwing energy, her agility, and her speed. She'd been
filled with pride at capturing the marine and had wandered into too dangerous
an area for a lone Imp with something of value. Hands rotted by the evil
within began to grope at her muscular brown flesh.

"If you won't give him... we take him," the voice was slurred; the entity
within the former grunt not used to human speech but forced to communicate
through it with the human's vocal cords. They were not intelligent beings,
and were only really dangerous even en masse against a weakened foe. A foe
like the Imp was currently. There was honour amongst these damned than love,
and they were too stupid to recognise her achievement in stopping the Space
Marine. An hour ago, they couldn't have touched her. Now...

A foot booted her legs from beneath her, taking her balance, forcing her to
fall backwards. As she dropped she saw the marine still just kneeling. She
had commanded him to stay and he did so. The former humans closed in,
jostling around her. They all wanted a piece.

"Kill them all!" she shouted, panicked as the weight of the possessed grunts
held her down, groping her breasts, her pussy. Anywhere they could get a
grip. The possessors wanted to try out all the parts of their new bodies.

At his soul-mistress' shout the Marine was instantly on his feet, the
surprise of the command and his response giving great advantage. With no
soul, they'd stupidly ignored him as harmless. A fatal mistake. Taking a
pistol from the belt of a grunt he stuck it into the mouth of one of the
sergeants and fired, seriously hurting the grunt behind and blocking the
sight of two others with flying skull and brains. As the sergeant dropped,
the marine took up his shotgun, and swung it around faster than the other
sergeant could manage, for another headshot.

With the Sergeants down all it took was a mixture of pistol fire, punches and
momentarily using the shotgun as a club to dispatch the rest. These things
he'd done many times since walking into the base all those hours ago, looking
for a way through, and out.

He stood naked, his hard body spattered with gore. The Space Marine's own
blood trickling from a minor-flesh wound in his shoulder where a lucky pistol
shot had grazed; the aim of the possessed grunts was always terrible even at
close range, as the poor control on the speech was replicated in other
muscles. He was alert for something, anything... else to kill. He yearned for
commands to obey.

He was Knee-Deep In The Dead.

The Imp pulled herself up, paused a moment on her knees, and then stood
before her captive, appraising him anew. She had been intending to take him
to the Duke of Hell as a gift for future favours. But now she would keep

She thought for a moment. It was still dangerous where they were; through
the door down the corridor was a wide pool of shallow radioactive slime with
distant growls and other noises. Then she recalled: there was a secret stash
one of her Imp brethren had told her about, weapons and equipment taken and
hidden by Imps, who'd all now been killed by the Space Marine. As was so
often true, the males were so much weaker than the females of Impkind.

Again commanding the marine to follow, she walked fast, and silently, down
the corridor. Reaching the end, she looked a moment to her left; there was a
small walled ledge jutting into a deep pool of slime. Then she ran her
fingers along a wall panel, and it rose in front of her. She led the Marine
into the small, secret area and suddenly realised... He'd been in there.
Alive. It was in disarray, rockets and armour had been taken, his earlier
suit discarded there. The cached equipment had been taken from his buddies
by demons, and taken back by him.

So, it wasn't entirely secret... She noted dried slime marked boot-prints
coming in from what appeared to be a blank wall, and realised he must have
originally found his way in from the slime side. He had been resourceful and
smart and that made her triumph so much sweeter. So the area was not just a
secret of the Impkind, but surely secret enough.

Turning around, she admired her captive spattered with the drying blood of
those who'd challenged her, the dried blood of his own wounds, her fresh
claw marks upon his chest. His hands still held weapons that only hours ago
would have been fatal to her.

Now they had sung to her tune. She laughed, delighted, and walked to stand
in front of the naked, muscled marine.

Hissing with pleasure, she leaned in and kissed the unresponsive mouth of
the Marine, sticking her too long tongue deep inside, tasting him. The
soulless part of him that remained thrilled at her attention, but couldn't
respond without her command. She would need to return some of his soul to
him to gain any fun she decided. It was rare indeed that she, a minor Imp,
had had anything alive to play with. She raised her arm in front of her
face, and, with a flick of her perfect wrist, held a small blue sphere in
her clawed hand.

She smiled, showing her teeth.

The Hangar (E1M1)

The escape pod had come to ground only half a mile from the Marine's landing
site, which had been directly outside The Hangar. Seemingly nothing happened
as the pod quickly cooled in the high cold winds. The peaceful scene was
ended as the hatch release caused it to pop off the pod. A beat, and then a
small brown rabbit head showed itself through the hatchway. She scanned the
surrounding environs for a short time, flicking her head around.

Hopping down to the rough cracked ground, she twitched her nose and turned
her gaze towards the Marine's landing site and behind it the buildings of
the UAC facilities. The rabbit began to move with some speed, darting
towards it. It was a tough journey as the hard wind howled around, blowing
dust and dirt. The brush that grew stubbornly from the ground following the
basic terraforming provided little cover, but succeeded in holding together
the heavily dusty and powered surface of the irregularly shaped moon. The
terraforming process, bringing nutrients, water and more had turned the dust
to soil.

She arrived at the Drop-ship that had brought the Space Marines down to the
moon. The rabbit hopped around it, sniffing, sensing... An air of
un-rabbit-like intelligence surrounded her as she paused and thought. Mere
moments passed before she turned and bounded up to the door of the hanger,
which opened before her. The scent trail showed her that there had been a
large group of marines through this door and then, hours later, just one.
Alone. Her Marine.

She followed the scent, deducing the correct path from criss-crossing trails
that told of a battle, of searches for ammunition and guns. The Hangar was
small, and deserted now. It was the furthest outpost of the facility, to
reduce the risks of potential ship explosions destroying valuable research
in the labs. She soon passed through it.

Emerging through the door on the other side, she followed the trail towards
the Nuclear Plant; ever moving in fast rabbit darts, nose occasionally in
the air or to the ground. With no foes, and an easy to follow trail, she was
covering the ground faster than the Space Marine had before her.

The Phobos Lab (E1M5)

"Kneel. Before me."

There was and there could be no question in the Marine's mind of obeying her
orders. He dropped to his knees, his hands resting on his thick hairy

Reaching a clawed brown hand down, the Imp held the blue sphere just above
the Marine's forehead, and chanted three words of demon speech. Blue energy
arced from the sphere in her hand, striking the Marine's temples, quickly
dropping to form an energy collar around his neck. A split second later, it
faded to a thin blue line. With another flick of the Imp's wrist, the sphere
disappeared again. Now the blue line ran up now, around her wrist -
connecting it to the collar around his neck.

He was a dangerous man not have entirely under her control, especially in
her weakened condition.

But she was Demon. She was tempted. It was hardly surprising she'd give in.
She smiled at him, showing her teeth, as his gaze suddenly focussed on her

"DEMON BITCH! WHAT'VE YOU DONE?! I'LL KILL YOU!" The Marine was thinking
clearly again, his soul partially returned to him, but now so much easier,
so much less energy consuming, for the Imp to take back away. She was
keeping a firm hold on it, around her wrist like a leash. His eyes blazed
defiance as he stared up at her. He started to plan for her strength, her
speed. Resisting the urge to leap straight for her throat.

"I've made you my creature. You kill for me, now. You worship me now.
You...Are...Mine." Her voice danced in his ears, demonic harmonics grating
but seeming... smoother now. He noted another difference between her and the
male Imps - she lacked the upper body spikes. Given her greater strength and
speed, a part of him wondered if the female of the species needed them.

"Never! You can't make m-..."


Shocked, the Marine found himself unable to speak, his mouth hung open. He
didn't know it, but the longer she had his soul running between them, the
more her control would fade as it slowly drained back to him despite her
grip, but she had him for now.

She reached her spare hand down, and clasped the back of his crew-cut head,
gently pulling his mouth up between her legs. She felt his hot breath on her
flesh, and the demonic lust rose. Holding the position for a second, she
drank in the look of anger in the Space Marine's eyes. The proud marine, one
of earth's toughest, on his knees before one of the Demon's who'd butchered
his team-mates, who planned to take his world and found a City of Hell on

From the Space Marine's point of view, her pussy looked like a Human's,
though like the rest of her totally hairless. Now he saw drops forming, her
arousal making her wet. A drop landed in his mouth, then another, the taste
on his tongue; spicy, sweet, ever so slightly sickly. The smell of her
arousal filled his nostrils and the taste intensified.


He licked along the length of her lips, taking her juice into his mouth,
swallowing it. Another swipe of his tongue, and then he pushed it inside.

"Yessss...." She hissed, delighted. Lessening her control over him, taking
more risk. His hands reached up, fast, deadly and then... merely gripped her
thighs, helping drive his tongue further into her, his nose into her crotch.
She clutched at his head with both hands, the flash of blue about her wrist,
holding him in place as he lapped at her, drinking her passion.

"haaarhh... arrrhhh...ooaaah..." she began a deep-throated growling-moan.
Faster, louder as his licks increased, enjoying his hands groping, kneading
her buttocks, her thighs. She was very wet now, and the Marine was hungry
for all the juice he could swallow. She began rubbing her pussy against his
face, as he struggled to keep his mouth on her; her head up now staring at
the ceiling, the climax building within.

She was gurgling, moaning, building to a howl, as her captive latched his
mouth onto her demonic bud, and sucked, flicking it with his tongue. Far
more juice gushed, splashing his face, as her orgasm hit. Still he sucked,
and licked, and nibbled as his Imp mistress howled her pleasure, her body
going stiff, as her legs gave out.

Falling forward, the Marine twisted her as she fell causing her to hit the
metal-plated ground on her back. Then he stuck his head back between her
thighs, and continued to lap, to drink her juice. He felt like he had when
she first took him; unable to control himself as he had had thrust into her.

She continued to howl, her legs now wrapped around his neck, her back
arched, sweat pouring down her mottled-brown skin, clawed hands scoring deep
the metal floor, riding her climax...

Minutes later as she lay panting deeply on the floor, her breasts rising and
falling. She lifted her sweat-beaded head and looked at the Marine
unconscious between her thighs. In her passion she'd choked off his carotid
artery and rendered him temporarily unconscious - she could see he still
lived, that the pressure had been eased from his neck for a little while.

Little climatic aftershocks still ran through her muscular demonic body, as
she held up her shaking wrist and produced the soul sphere, breathing
heavily she reeled it back in, and then flicked her wrist again.

Moving so the Marine's head rested on her hard stomach, she closed her red
eyes and rested. Satisfied. Never wondering, if gunshots will bring demons,
what will howls of ecstasy do, even hidden away in the secret area? Despite
the exertion of the sex, her strength and speed were returning as time
passed since her ritual.

Rest awhile, and then take him to the Anomaly.

How ever had she considered giving such a prize away?

The Nuclear Plant (E1M2)

The rabbit stopped before the nuclear plant, the heavy metal door into the
facility wedged halfway down, and then sped inside. All around her was the
detritus of combat, dead space marines, the sprawled and wreaked bodies of
demons her marine had taken down. It seemed there had been an ambush,
disorientating and splitting even the experienced combat troop.

Heading through the Nuclear Plant the rabbit paused, before darting under
cover of machinery. Her watchful gaze fell upon three wounded former humans
as they staggered by, grunting and muttering, unable to find their way to
the Phobos Anomaly and the demon recall. The stench of rotten death hung
about them. After they turned the corner the brown and white rabbit moved
back out, and continued, finding the scent harder to follow with stronger
demon musk in the air; the stink of the demons and their corrupting presence
pervading the Nuclear Plant.

The rabbit was moving too fast, too much, too intelligently to just be an
ordinary example of Oryctolagus Cuniculu. Any observer would grow worried
about her movements, and as she finally crossed through the Nuclear Plant
and then headed across the dirt to the Toxin Refinery, that's just what...
something... was doing.

Phobos Anomaly (E1M8)

"It's a... what...?"

"A Rabbit."

"These are Martian vermin?"

"Earth creatures, Lord."

The Duke of Hell was talking to a former human sergeant, prostrate before
him. Of all the possessed, this one had the most memories intact. The fact
was, such things as rabbits were usually far beneath the attention of even
the least imposing, weakest demons. To a Duke of Hell, it was like a human
glancing through a microscope.

Knowledge was power. The Duke felt old memories stirring from a brief period
many hundreds of years ago when he was on Earth, before a coven of witches
had banished him back to hell. Oh, the fun he'd had then... Rabbits.
Something about intelligent rabbits was bothering him.

Looking over, her saw the two Barons of Hell who'd been given the task of
personally guarding the Anomaly. They had a number of the former humans
chained along the walls and were enjoying target practices, the crack of the
green energy mixing with the enraged screams of the possessed. There were
even worse fates.

The Duke turned his gaze back to one of the few still-working corrupted
cameras, mounted on the outer wall of the Toxin refinery. It showed the
rabbit paused outside, sniff the ground, and then dart inside. There were no
working cameras inside.

"It's... following the marine? Grr.. A... pet then? Running to heel? WE HAVE
NO TIME FOR THIS! Centuries have gone to this scheme! CENTURIES!"

The former human sergeant cowered on the floor. His possessor knew that
running would earn it a blast of green fire in the back, or worse. Being
virtually on the lowest level of Hell's hierarchy had serious disadvantages.

The Duke blinked his cruel eyes, and then waved a mighty clawed hand
dismissively "Have it eaten," he snarled, as he returned to oversee the
final preparations. A few more uninterrupted hours were all they needed.

A command was sent direct to the brain of a Spectre, still snarling around
in the Toxin Refinery and missed by the Marine. It went in search of fresh

The Toxin Refinery (E1M3)

The trail was much fresher here... her marine had been moving faster, better
armed; out-smarting and defeating demons all around. She was so proud of
him. She...

"RAAARRRAAGGHH" The growl was close to her. Too close. Spinning around, the
rabbit was confronted with the shimmering air of a Spectre - a physical but
mostly invisible creature. She couldn't defeat it as she was. As it moved
closer, she changed. Where there had been a rabbit, was now a truly beautiful
tall woman. She looked maybe 24, 25 years old. White flecked her brown hair,
a white streak from her fringe down the middle It stretched down to her lower
back. Her Brown eyes turned golden, unafraid. Her face was high cheek-boned
and slightly imperious. She wore rabbit skin clothing, a long fur skirt, a
loose fur tunic. It had been a long while since she'd mimicked the clothes of
humans in her change.

The Spectre, a deeply stupid creature, could not understand the change, but
did not care. It still knew fresh meat, it hungered, and it would... the
beasts mighty nose sniffed the air "EEGGGEEGEG" The unmistakable scent of a
female in heat. Suddenly, it wasn't so hungry.

A smile flashed across the rabbit's, no, the rabbit-spirit's lips. She pulled
her skirt down to her ankles and off, and flipped herself round on her knees,
her lightly furred pussy in the Spectre's face. Now it could see a rabbit
tail growing from just above her ass; inflicted with the same changing curse
as many of their Asian Fox-spirit cousins, the rabbit spirit differed in many
other ways. Her number tag now was hanging like an earring.

"Come on..." she whispered, preparing to draw the energy and power from the
beast; both beating it and increasing her own power. She wiggled her hips
and increased her scent, making herself more aroused. It was hardly the most
erotic environment, perched near a deep pool of radioactive waist, the bodies
of fallen demons and one or two space marines nearby. But the rabbit-spirit
was experienced at seduction and barely needed her honed skills with the
slavering beast.

Dropping her head to look between her legs, she saw the shimmering behind
her change, air shimmering around a growing length between the demon-beast's
legs. Then the shimmer flickered, and she felt it's tongue rub through her
fur, and gasped. She hadn't known what to expect, but the Spectre's tongue
was like soft, damp, leather.

The spectre had never mated before, and now a dripping wet female was in its
face. Savouring the flavour of the rabbit-spirit's pussy; it lunged forward,
it's claws scrabbling for purchase around her body. The bloody claws should
have been rending her flesh, tearing her rabbit skin tunic and yet they
seemed to have no effect. Finding purchase on her firm breasts through her
tunic the spectre slammed its hips forwards, ramming half its dripping
beast-cock into her, and growling.

As she was roughly penetrated, the rabbit-spirit squealed, and threw her
head back. The beast was unable to harm her body as it thrust into her, her
juice lubricating its passage along with its own demonic pre-cum. She closed
her eyes for a moment and enjoyed the sensation as the spectre hauled its
semi-visible log of a cock out, and then thrust it back in, smashing its
tufted-hair covered crotch against her buttocks. Instead of pain from the
massive penetration, the rabbit-spirit felt only pleasure. Her golden eyes
shining bright.

She began to mutter in an old tongue as the beast began to thrust into her
in earnest, her over-juiced pussy squelching with each thrust, dripping to
the deck plate between them. She began to squeeze her inner muscles
rhythmically, in time with the Spectre's thrusts. Sweat began to drip from
her body as hot steaming breath bathed her back.

The creature of hell was in heaven. The female was his! His hot hard cock
felt so good and his first ever fuck was quickly building to his first ever
climax as he slammed his meat into her, feeling his sack tighten against the
base of its shaft.

Her chanting grew louder as her own climax built, the rough fucking not
enough to put her off the chant, but driving her voice ragged; the spectres
hands suddenly gripped her breasts tightly and it thrust inside, the tip of
his cock at right at the entrance to her womb.

Her chanting, and her orgasm, reached their climax at the same time as the
beast began to spray thick demon cum into her womb, holding in place as it
shot rather than thrusting. Her elbows gave out their support as she
screamed her climax, dropping her face sideways on the floor, eyes tightly
shut, her pussy clamped tight around the demon cock, her womb filling with
hot corrupt seed.

The Spectre dropped forward itself, pulled by her strong pussy on its cock,
its clawed hand/paws supporting it on the deck plate. Still spraying inside
her, the sheer size of its meat and her tightly clamped pussy preventing any
of the liquid squirting out, like a dog knotted.

It had mated! Now it wanted to feed! Focusing on the form before it, the
demon now recognised that there definitely wasn't a demon female beneath
him. The smell of his own arousal was masking her to his nose. It's hunger
returned - now she was just meat to it. The beast gripped her breasts tight,
and leaned forward while opening its mighty maw. It tried to bite at her,
it's teeth sliding off, when a tug at its crotch told it something was
wrong. Fatally wrong.

"GRAAUAGH?" A questioning growl, as unexpectedly it felt the strength
fleeing its body, saw the world going dark in front of its eyes. The life
force fled it quickly, drawn into her. It collapsed on to the rabbit-spirit's
shuddering sweat-soaked body.

All was silent, save for ragged panting. Then she moved under the dead
Spectre, it's meat sliding easily out of her relaxed pussy followed by a
heavy gush of its corrupt spunk. The think liquid continued to run down her
thighs as she reached down and picked up her rabbit skin skirt, sliding it
back on, her rabbit tail a small bulge at the back.

She stood over the spectre's body, and her eyes flashed a brighter golden.
The mostly-invulnerable physical state wouldn't last long after her change;
her eyes would soon fade to brown. She hadn't felt so powerful in many
years. She'd been so small as a rabbit. Viewed as prey. Of course, she'd
felt different about it in her rabbit form - lived a rabbit's life. It had
been so long since she'd been human; she'd been more rabbit, in personality,
than woman before her change.

Had something else 'awoken' her? Nudged her into action? Some other force?

She reached up and fingered the tag in her ear, as her pussy continued to
drip spunk and juice onto the floor between her legs. She reached her other
hand down her skirt, fingered the mixture dripping to the floor and brought
her hand to her nose, sniffed it, then tasted it.

She made a brief face, unimpressed. The pungent juice-spunk mixture would
mask her scent for a time. Meanwhile, she decided she would follow the
Marine's trail in her human form for a time.

This pathetic pit-spawn could not stand in her way. She would take back what
was hers.

To be continued in part 3.


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