Beatrix Belladonna in B.A.B.S. : A Cyberpunk Adventure

“D-don't come any closer!” Beatrix Belladonna shot to her feet. The intruded nearly towered over her, adding to how intimidating she found him. Gulping, she did her best to not show fear. “W-who are you?! Do you work for President Spike?”

“In a sense," the steel-plated plague doctor retorted, his eyes shifting to her work on the desk. "I was told he brought you here to restore something lost to him. And in doing this, you wish to reclaim your magic, yes?"

“Of course." She nodded, folding her arms over her bust. "But there's always a catch in my experience. What do you want from me?"

"Only your compliance," the masked man said monotonously, “There is something I want in exchange for working with him. And I believe with your assistance, progress towards purification will happen much sooner."

"Purification of what?" She asked skeptically. The digitilized chuckle the doctor emanated proved to make him more threatening to her.

"The purification of this planet, of course. I won't bore you with details, but just know that working with me, we'll help each other gain what we want." He stalked through the lab, his thick attire dragging slightly behind as he observed the space.

Beatrix watched while sitting back down, unable to look away from him. His visage was similar to that of a vulture, just waiting for something to drop dead for him to scavenge. With a shudder, she turned back to resume her alchemy studies.

Her new comrade unfolded one of his metallic arms as a hologram appeared from his palm. With his other hand, he wrote something into the display, making a few notes of the surroundings and the behavior of the young witch. His gaze returned to her before he stood over her shoulder, analyzing her work.

"Ahh, alchemy. A primitive fusion between magic and science. A strong foundation for further technological advancements," he said, almost robotically.

She scoffed, disgusted with his choice of words regarding her profession. "It's reliable and guarantees success if done properly!"

"And requires so much effort and time to ensure the guaranteed result," he responded almost mockingly. "How much patience do you believe the President will have?"

"If he wants Rarity's soul to converge with a new body safely, he'll wait! Now, are you going to just leer over my shoulder, or are you going to do something to help?!"

"Hmm," the masked figure quickly analyzed her current progress before making a few calculations and modifications in his electronic notes. He then showed Beatrix said results in a way that wasn't too complicated to understand.

Her brows rose before looking back at her ingredients and potions. "...y'know, that might just work! Thanks, uhm.... What was your name again?"

“Varys,” he responded, backing away from the witch. "Master Varys. Alchemy is admittedly a science I'm not familiar with, but I figured a modern formula with ingredients from this age would accelerate the process without neglecting proper precautions."

"Y-you don't say."

"I only wish to make progress in helping out those who suffer and grow ill from this...decaying existence. Hopefully, neither of us will be interrupted." And with that, he sat at a separate desk to unfurl a suitcase that held his own experiment. A small laser emanated a couple times as he made his own modifications.

Beatrix frowned heavily. She didn't exactly trust this scientist, but he seemed to be reaching for a similar goal. For now, the young woman would have to be on her toes.

Turning back, she checked on her mother. Still fast asleep, Trixie softly snored, and she brushed her tresses with a tiny smile. If only Lady Ewe were here. While part of her was pushed to not rely on her so heavily, Beatrix knew that without her guidance, she wouldn't survive in most situations. Mostly when they involved the Vice Lords. And now she was forced to place her trust in another while she sat almost useless on the sidelines!

Fortunately for her, Varys wasn't the one for conversation. And despite her growing loneliness, she much preferred it this way. For now, Beatrix focused on practicing her magic some more, felt a familiar tingle run down her extremities with the pop of sparks.

So focused, she didn't notice that the plague doctor had turned his attention towards the slumbering Trixie, staring intently.

*****

“At least the decor's nice,” said Tree Hugger who stalked around her new prison. “Real, too.” She breathed in the scent of fresh greenery, the area not unlike the greenhouse she'd cultivated, albeit smaller and less wild compared to how freely she liked to see her plants blossoms. She'd switched to a casual t-shirt and shorts, attempting to settle in.

“Sorry about this,” said Flutterbitch. “I could attempt to fly us away-”

“To what end, babe? We're being watched, I'm sure there's like, automated defenses and drones everywhere, even if he let us slip away, we'd be fugitives and would spend the rest of our days chased down. Talk about a total bummer.” She plopped on the heart-shaped bed with a bounce, a plump tit falling out of her unkempt top with a jiggle.

Shy couldn't help but leer with a lick of her luscious lips. Her black boots echoed in the dimly-lit area when she stalked over and nestled next to her former lover. “Say, do you want to rekindle what we used to have?” She toyed with the hippie's locks.

“I wouldn't mind, babe. But I'm not sure about the current vibes you're radiating, feel me? Your crew's too quick to take lives. Everywhere B.A.B.S. turns up, the body count gets bigger.” She exhaled with a huff. “Like, those thralls you collect, you feel me?”

She snarled. “I was forced to ditch them back at base when they took me here. Besides, they were all bad people!”

Hugs turned to her. “What, and a death squad that kills for money isn't?”

Shy narrowed her eyes. “You're a cult leader! You don't get to preach to me!”

“Look.” She sat up beside her. “I'm not here to judge you, babe. We've all made mistakes. Never said I was a saint.” Cautiously she drew her into a warm, soft embrace. “You smell pretty righteous, by the way,” she whispered huskily in her ear.

“You too. I can smell all those earthy scents on you I adore.” She breathed them in with a flare of her nostrils. “I have needs, though. Ones that make me dangerous to everyone, even those I love most. You understand, right?”

“Yeah. And I'm cool with it.” Noticing how she'd been leering, she shredded her top open and let her other tit spill-free, the massive orbs smacking. Incredibly wide nipples filled the supple flesh. “Drink your fill, babe. I can take it.”

“I can't risk it. I might hurt you, or worse! But...” She sank her fingers lower, traced plush curves with her nails, and slipped into her shorts, shifting her to wiggle them down and strip her bare. “I could use more organic food in my diet!”

They shared a giggle, Flutterbitch undoing her leather top and letting her bulbous breasts flop loose. She slid her bikini-style bottoms down, now wearing only her leather heeled boots, and started with hungry pecks down Tree's neck, between her tits, over her navel, between her wide thighs, before she planted the first sloppy kiss on her tight slit.

The subdued gasps that escaped Tree's wet lips assured Shy she still knew how to hit all her weak points. She planted messy kisses around her outer labia, lapped up-and-down her snatch, which swelled up, the meaty pussylips was taken into her mouth where she suckled and pulled on them. Gooey moisture leaked into her maw, filled it, danced on her taste buds with its tang.

“I-I love you~!” Hugs was cut short when her unusually long tongue plunged into her moist pink canal, swirling around her contracting walls, and the hippie tossed her head back, eyes rolling into her skull with a heavy blush, kicking her feet and curling her toes when the first orgasm crashed over her when she traced her spongy g-spot.

Shy happily studied her natural reactions, drank down the cascade that rushed down her throat, and dribbled down her chin. Heat burned through her body, and she withdrew from Hugs' now oversensitive cunt, crawling up her, watching her twitch and the rise-and-fall of her sweaty tits. Her own needs were now bearing down on her, fangs popping loose with a metallic swish.

She clasped her lips over a tit, possessively suckled on it, distended the soft flesh when she repeatedly pulled and clamped on the wobbly milk jug. Unable to hold back anymore, her eyes turned to predatory circles, and her teeth sank into a supple teat.

“Aw...oh...” Hugs mewled and felt an electrical, erotic tingle rush through her tits, experiencing their odd climax.

Slurps sounded when Shy drank her sweet nectar down. She switched between her breasts, ribbons of saliva and blood mixing, and connecting them, left tiny twin bite marks on each orb while she drank her fill. Her lover pleasantly writhed under her, reduced to her plaything, a meal to be savored. Her mind was so dulled by the pleasure, she didn't care if Shy killed her.

However, realization crashed over Shy. She yanked back and wheezed, panting, and face stricken. “Oh no!” Tears dribbled down her cheeks, and she spread her leathery wings, rushing towards the balcony and throwing open the sliding glass door.

“Wait,” called Tree Hugger, stumbling out of bed to chase her. She caught Shy the moment she flew into the night sky, grabbing her by the ankle with both hands. While the hippie was much stronger than she looked, it took throwing her entire weight into a yank to pull the vamp down, the pair landing in a pile of tangled limbs with a thud.

“Let me go! I-I almost killed you!”

“Relax,” said Hugs, who struggled to hold her wrists. “You know what, babe? I liked it.” She pulled her into her arms, crushed her close under a gentle breeze. “You're, like, a thrill a minute. Whatever my complaints, at least you've come out of your shell.” She turned to study the starts that framed the moon, thankful for their captor at least provided them with a romantic view.

Shy sniffled. “I never wanted to hurt you. I'd rather diethan do that!”

“Better you than one of Spike's goons.” She pressed their lips together, tasted herself on Shy, eyes half-lidded when she licked herself clean with a slurp. “Mmm, that's rad. Shamed as I am to admit it, babe, being sucked dry by you would be pretty damn hot.”

“Yeah, well, that's not going to happen! I don't know what he intends to do with us all, but I intend to find out!”

“Chill.” She rose with her and patted her squishy bottom. “Cuddle with me a while, we'll talk and think it over.” She was pulled up into Shy's arms, and relaxed into her grasp, carried to the bed where they slid about the messy sheets. “Say, you think Spike might've spied on us the whole time? Maybe cranked one out while we got it on?”

“So what if he did? Fuck him.” She raised a middle finger in the air.

*****

From a private room, a series of monitors allowed President Spike to watch it all play out. He could watch the entire city at his leisure, and that included everything that went on in his building. “Excellent. I doubt Beatrix could accomplish much on her own. It's a good thing Varys is helping her speed things along," he mused, walking forth with hands held behind his back.

He'd encountered the avian-masked doctor by chance, assuming he was another anomaly drawn in by the rips in reality. It didn't matter. In return for the stranger's aid, he gave him the freedom to carry out his experiments. It also resulted in him dealing with the Flower Children to boot!

He'd had him supply the Redcaps with their technology in secret, using them as pawns to keep his enemies off-balance. So far as he was concerned, all things could be commodified, controlled by those in power!

When he wasn't there to run the business, he left the work to his pleasure dolls, Rarity, Coco Pommel, and Sassy Saddles. They smiled at him, half-bathed in silhouettes, seated naked and the glow from virtual neon screens reflecting off their curves.

The sight certainly worked him up. As did the little show Flutterbitch and Tree Hugger had put on. A playful yelp sounded from Coco, who he selected on a whim, yanked up by the wrist, and bent over the table.

He pushed into her, two cocks buried in her cunt and the third up her ass, and she cooed in delight, spread wide and bouncing under his casual, distracted thrusts.

His claws raked over her supple flesh, a mere object to sate his needs, his thoughts on Rarity, who he studied while she and Sassy watched him claim his prize. But she was still a fake, almost painful to look upon, a reminder of what he now lacked.

Growling, he redoubled his efforts, vented his frustrations with increasingly savage thrusts, which only made her wetter and mewl. Just like she was designed for. He could beat and insult them, and they'd merely beg him for more. His hand clasped around her neck and she tightened around him, vise-like, milking him as his heavy balls swung and smacked her pussy.

His gaze turned to Babs Seed and her team, stuffed into another room where the members played cards to pass the time. “It would be a shame to lose them. They have been loyal. Babs is partly artificial and Rainbow Dash is practically a full-on cyborg already, so maybe I should let Varys fully convert them? Sunset's tried to keep herself 'pure' from enhancements, the silly fool.”

Grunting, he finished in Coco, coated her insides with a hot gush that filled her up. On cue, she wailed and came upon him, conquered, and he smacked her wobbly ass to remind her of such. The mess was a trifle bothersome, but his clothes were easily replaced and clean. Satisfied, he dislodged with a wet 'pop' and watch the runny discharge drool from her gaped pink holes.

What to do now, but pass more time and await the results? If Varys was correct, specific individuals here still carried latent traces of magic. Such as his counterpart, which enabled him to take that wolfish guise, Flutterbitch, the last known vampire, and himself, if what his partner told him was true. He hoped Rarity would be back with him, to see his true self on his ascension!

His true potential would be brought forth for all to bear witness. Everyone would know firsthand why he called himself Dragon Lord!

*****

Whatever attack the Werewolves planned on Dragon Lord HQ had likely been called off. Fortunately, the wild ride had taken Lady Ewe close to the building, however she still had to cross the last few miles on foot.

But what to do when she reached there? How could she hope to bypass the defenses and warn Beatrix? She kept the jar hidden with her supplies and took shelter behind a parking lot, without anywhere to turn to or any allies to call for. Basically, she was alone.

“She's so close. And yet, so far.” She pouted, unable to reach into Beatrix's mind anymore, couldn't summon up more than the faintest sparks of her potential. “What to do? A lone infiltration would be suicidal. I could turn myself in and hope they'll bring me to her, but then I'd be a prisoner too, and I'd just be hand-delivering him this! Oh, how I wish this was all just one bad dream!”

From what she could see, the self-proclaimed 'Dragon Lord' controlled everything. Sure, there were scattered gangs and cults, but even these were rapidly being brought to heel if not wiped out entirely.

Fiery explosions lit up the night sky and broke her reverie. Helicopters circled HQ, gatling-guns spitting rapid-fire, and turrets unfolded from the sides to return fire.

She couldn't figure out who was behind the attack. Redcaps? Maybe the Werewolves had decided to commence their assault, despite the absence of their leader to meet them.

It hardly mattered. Under the bedlam that erupted all over, it was her chance to slip in, hopefully undetected.

Ahead the battle also spilled onto the streets. An armored car smashed into the entrance. Guards swooped out and unleashed a barrage on more vehicles that rolled in. Crowds collected around the smoldering streets, lost in oily smoke and infernos, riots threatening to break out when the President's officers came to suppress them.

A voice called out from a megaphone, “The time's come, brothers and sisters! Lady Ewe has spoken! The Flower Children will survive, and our leader, Tree Hugger, liberated from her prison!” She realized the hippie must be a survivor of the scattered cult.

A projection of her likeness appeared and towered over the cityscape, a serene image that filled many onlookers with awe. Again, her visage was being exploited, and some of the rabbles worshiped her like a Goddess, only to be struck down by rifle butts and batons by heavily-armored officers. They attempted to disperse the mobs with tear gas chucked in their direction.

The virtual image flickered and threatened to dissipate. Some wept before Oona and prayed. A few fought back against their oppressors, only to get smacked down with ease. She lost track of who was fighting who, as more people spilled into the bloodied streets, erupting into an all-out brawl.

Around the illusion of her spread a false Garden of Eden, a reminder of the old lost Equestria. Endless greenery. Magic so rich the people were able to craft horns and wings out of it, blessed by their cutie marks with personalized talents to suit them.

A utopia interrupted by screams and bloodshed. Air rank with the stench of molten metal and cooked flesh.

Much as the circumstances filled her with distaste, she slunk between downed cars, into the wrecked headquarters, hopeful this senseless violence would somehow end.