HOME | DD

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

Space is a quiet place, sometimes too quiet. The augmented rabbit hybrid Blackjack was busy snoozing away in his cot while his ship cruised through a few sectors of empty space, dreaming of dancing carrots. He noisily let out a loud snore as unbeknownst to the rabbit a small fighter ship made it's way through a space jump, slowly approaching Blackjack's ship so as not to set off any sensors. "There you are you son-of-a-bitch," Rocket Racoon muttered to himself, pulling his ship alongside Blackjack's large freighter before docking, using the security codes he snuck off the rabbit during their previous encounters to get around the security clearance and not trip any alarms. Once docked, Rocket snuck through the porthole and scampered along the ground of Blackjack's ship, again taking care to not trip any sensor's or alert the rabbit of his position. Thinking Blackjack was still piloting the ship, Rocket made his way to the cockpit and jumped the captain's chair, only to find it was empty. "What the, ah crap did he bait me with a trap?" Rocket said, before looking at the console and seeing the computer nav system was set to auto pilot. Curious, Rocket made his way back through the ship before finally finding his target, sleeping in what he assumed was a makeshift room and Blackjack snoring away in his cot. Holding up his stun stick, Rocket made his way next to Blackjack before standing over the snoring bunny, Blackjack's eyes opening slightly at the rustling. Rocket swiftly brought his stun stick down on Blackjack's gut, shocking him with a couple hundred volts of electricity, knocking out the rabbit. "Nighty night you bastard..."

After a few hours, Blackjack's conscious finally started to come back to him, his stomach cramped up. He tried to stretch, but soon realized his hands were tied above his head. "Good morning sleepyhead," Rocket taunted, twirling a set of keys in his fingers before tossing them in the opposite direction of both him and Blackjack down the hall. "Rocket, should have figured you'd be too much of a coward to attack me awake," Blackjack retorts, trying to play off the situation as he tried struggling with the bindings. Rocket may be smart but he was dumb, he used Blackjack's own cuffs on him in his ship, this should be easy to- "Ah before you get too keen on trying to tinker with those, you should look up." Blackjack looked up at the bindings holding his wrist and his expression soured. Instead of the normal grav cuffs he had lying around he had thought Rocket tied him up with, he instead found his wrists had actually been locked by magnetic grav locks, no keys they were solely electrical control. He was at Rocket's mercy until then.

"Now let's get down to brass tax, or more accurately," Rocket pulls out a pistol and aims it at Blackjack, pulling the trigger and erasing Blackjack's top, disintegrating it almost instantly, "Getting you back for that humiliation back on Klaxxon-9." Just play it cool, this raccoon is all talk and angers quickly, Blackjack thought to himself, smiling as he looked back to Rocket. "Oh but Rocky, I thought you liked being the center of attention, I simply obliged and made you the talking point of the entire sector. 'Guardian Raccoon Wedgied to Kingdom-come,' was such a catchy headline dontcha think?" Rocket gritted his teeth before blasting again, this time erasing Blackjack's pants, before Rocket's eyes went wide before letting out a roaring laugh, falling back as he clutched his sides. Blackjack's face went flush as he looked down and remembered, embarrassingly, that he was wearing his carrot printed tighty whities today. Ahh crap baskets. Rocket could hardly contain himself, sitting up while still clutching his gut in a laughing fit, in between breaths pointing at the now exposed rabbit. "We-were they fresh out of the bunny prints," Rocket reeled back again in another loud laughing fit, Blackjack could only try and hide his face in shame and embarrassment. If he was wearing just tighty whities, it wouldn't have been as big a deal, hell Rocket wore tighty whities if their last encounter was anything to go by, but these ones he was wearing seemed even more childish.

Rocket finally composed himself enough to stand up, still laughing as he walked forward and grabbed the front of Blackjack's waistband. The embarrassed bunny finally snapped out of his daze as he felt the raccoon hands wrap around the waistband, then the sudden jutting pain in his groin as Rocket shot his hand upwards, bringing the waistband to Blackjack's chest. "Now Carrot-ass, wait no that doesn't sound as insulting, Carrot- ah screw it we'll just go with Carrots." Rocket accented his point by yanking Blackjack's undies again, this time getting his fist just under the rabbit's jaw. "I'm gonna run you through the ringer, and leave your sorry ass broken drifting out here after I drain your fuel from your ship, and broadcast the whole thing on the extranet for shits and giggles. Maybe then you'll learn not to mess with the Guardians of the Freakin' Galaxy." Rocket let Blackjack's waistband go with a loud snap as the waistband snapped back against his waist and crotch, making him bend forward as the pain shot through his groin. Stay focused, play it cool, Blackjack tried thinking to himself, struggling in the embarrassing situation as Rocket positioned himself behind and grabbed the back waistband, pulling it outwards from Blackjack's body, not giving him so much a wedgie as more pulling the seams to tear them. Blackjack tried faking a chuckle, "Is that all you got rodent?"

"Oh we're not done, not by a long shot," Rocket says as he fidgets around behind Blackjack out of his view. The stretching of Blackjack's underwear continued and he could still feel his carrot tighty whities still stretched out far behind him, his frontal slowly making its way back down his stomach and to its proper place around his waist, but the fabric was still pulled up his groin and smashing his dick and balls tightly into him. Rocket appeared in front of Blackjack after a few moments, but something was off as Blackjack could still feel his underwear pulled taut, as if a Coppertone dog was pulling his bathing suit like he saw in those weird Earth ads. Rocket held up a remote in his hands, taunting Blackjack with it before pressing a button on it. A whirring noise could be heard as the loading wench wound itself to life and started to pull Blackjack's underwear up his butt crack, lifting his body further up into the air slowly as his underwear slowly sliced up his butt cheeks. "See I learned a few things from Quill," Rocket says nonchalantly, pressing another button that releases Blackjack's hands from the other crane, causing him to drop. Unfortunately for Blackjack, he was still in the air, but instead of being held up by his hands in their binding, his entire body was held up solely by the now thong-like fabric between his cheeks. "And judging by the way it was described, you're gonna hate it," Rocket says again, pressing another button, causing the crane hook to drop, along with Blackjack. Blackjack fell several feet through the air, before another press of the button caused the hook to ascend back into the air, catching Blackjack inches before he hit the cargo floor before shooting back into the air. Rocket let the hook hit the ceiling again, then dropped the hook once more causing a weightlessness feeling for Blackjack temporarily mid-air before he was pulled down again. Rocket shot the hook up sooner this time, catching Blackjack in full maximum velocity before his tighty whities shot back deeply into his crack. Rocket was enjoying himself the entire time, bouncing the rabbit around with a crane, to add to his amusement he even started moving the crane around the cargo hold, causing Blackjack to flail around by his underwear. The pain was excruciating to Blackjack, no longer able to put up a tough guy front as his ass was lit on fire from the friction burn.

Rocket maneuvered the crane until it dropped Blackjack at his feet, his tighty whities thoroughly stretched at this point and incredibly deep up his ass, it was almost impossible to find any ounce of fabric actually covering his butt, only a thin strip of white and orange fabric coming out the top of his buttcrack. "There, now I think we're thoroughly stretched enough for the next bits," Rocket says, putting the controller down and walking over to the collapsed rabbit, Blackjack's butt sticking straight up in the air while his chest and face rested on the cool floor. Rocket reaches out and grabs Blackjack's stretched underwear, pulling it slightly up before easily placing the waistband over his ears and forehead, locking him in an atomic wedgie. "There we go Carrots, now we're looking cutesy," Rocket pulls out his camera and takes a pic, holding up a peace sign near Blackjack's atomic wedgied head as the flash snapped giving the indication the picture was taken. Rocket then dug his knuckles into the top of Blackjack's head, rubbing it around and irritating Blackjack's fur on the top of his head while also adding more friction burn to his skin. "Noogie!" Rocket exclaimed, enjoying his torment on Blackjack, who could only groan in pain, the top of his head and ears now burning like his ass crack from irritation. Rocket removed his knuckles from Blackjack's head, now sitting on Blackjack's back as he stuck both his index fingers in his mouth, coating them in saliva, before driving both home inside Blackjack's ears and swirling them around. "Wet willy!" Blackjack could only groan as his hearing was muffled, the squishiness rubbing around in his rabbit ears was definitely not a pleasant feeling. Rocket hopped down from Blackjack's back and stood in front of him, gripping the waistband again and pulling further down his face, securing the underwear under his chin.

"Alright maggot stand at attention!" Rocket ordered out like a drill sergeant, pressing the console on his wrist computer that made Blackjack's cuffs pull him upright, dangling him again a little in the air as he was held up by his cuffs, his vision completely obscured by carrot covered white fabric. With a few more clinks, Rocket secured two more mag cuffs to Blackjack's ankles, and pressed another button causing Blackjack to hold a T pose in the air. Humming to himself, Rocket walked up to the full spread Blackjack, using his cuff controls to move his arms one at a time as he forced Blackjack's arms through the legholes of his own underwear, his arms now down at his sides and put into a shoulder wedgie. "Now let's see those jumping jacks soldier, and a one!" Rocket pressed the controls, forcing both arms outright on Blackjack as well as both his legs, his hands forced outwards then back above his head, the seams of his legholes ripping the entire time as now even the front of his underwear tore into his crotch now. Blackjack's hands and legs were brought back down to his sides, standing at attention. His legholes were now firmly on his shoulders, holding the tight vice-like wedgie in place. "And a two!" Rocket pressed the controls again, forcing Blackjack into another jumping jack, sending another tight jolt of pain through his small rabbit frame, the seam running through his groin sliced just the right way this time and caused him to yelp in pain as it pinched his balls. His arms and legs were brought back down again to the standing position. Rocket continued this torturous workout method on Blackjack for 100 jumping jacks, after all was said and done the flesh around Blackjack's groin was a deep shade of red with a deep, painful rash.

Rocket walked forward to Blackjack, finally pulling the underwear off his face, then removing the underwear from Blackjack's shoulders and letting the underwear flop pathetically back down to around Blackjack's waist, the underwear stretched out and resembling something more like a blown out parachute. "Oh would you look at that, already at a billion likes," Rocket holds up his phone, showing the video of Blackjack's humiliating jumping jack wedgie posted to the extranet, humiliating comments flying in by the thousands. "Well Carrots, do you have anything to say to your endearing audience?" Blackjack, still completely beat red in the face, ass and groin feeling like they had been through a belt grinder, and still held up in only his embarrassing carrot tighty whities, could only hock back a lugey before spitting in Rocket's face. Rocket reached up and wiped the spit from his face, before gripping the front of Blackjack's waistband and viciously pulling up quickly, crushing Blackjack's balls and dick in the process. "Now that wasn't very nice Carrots, how about you learn some humility, and smell your own balls!" Rocket continued to pulled upwards more, pulling Blackjack's underwear through his groin and butt crack, until Rocket was able to secure the waistband securely around the back of Blackjack's neck, Blackjack's face squarely surrounded by the crotch of his underwear, his musk filling his nose. Ahh gross! Blackjack thought, before he was rudely interrupted by a swift punch to the dick by Rocket, causing him to bend forward in pain, but still held up in the air thanks to the grav cuffs. Rocket reached out, and firmly grasped Blackjack by the balls, squeezing tightly and causing Blackjack to whine out in a high pitched squeal. "Now, apologize!" Rocket ordered, pulling and squeezing more on Blackjack's balls. Blackjack desperately tried to find his voice to apologize, his balls being stretched like his underwear and his voice escaped him. "Apologize!" Rocket shouted again, trying to twist Blackjack's balls like he was going to rip them off. "I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Blackjack squeaked out, his voice sounding like a child before puberty.

Rocket let go of Blackjack's nutsack, providing a small amount of relief to the rabbit. Blackjack's balls pulsed to the beat of his heartbeat, sending constant shock waves of pain through his crotch as his deep breathing was forcing him to inhale more and more of his musk from his underwear. Rocket shook his hand like he was trying to get the disgusting germs of fondling Blackjack's junk off his hand, before using the remote and pulling down the cargo hooks in front and behind Blackjack. "Well hope the folks of the extranet are hankering for more, cause you just earned your sorry ass even more pain," Rocket said, securing the back hook to the rear waistband of Blackjack's underwear, the cold hook pressing against the top of his butt crack. Blackjack's vision was returned to him again, as well as the ability to breathe clean air as Rocket secured Blackjack's front waistband to the other hook in front of him. "Hope you weren't too attached to those balls Carrots, cause something tells me they're not gonna be around after this sanding," Rocket presses the buttons on the remote, alternating between two buttons, as the hooks whirred to life and started to lift Blackjack's underwear up. Rocket walked over to a console with two joystick controls for the arms, and alternated each lever up and down, causing the hooks to respond and have the front move down, while the back moved up, sawing Blackjack's underwear back through his sore groin and crack. Rocket then swapped the levers positions, and caused Blackjack's underwear again to saw back through his crack as the front of his underwear was pulled up his crotch and down through his butt crack. Rocket continued his slow grind back and forth, slowly building up the pace and anticipation for Blackjack, as he could only cry out in agonizing pain as his underwear tried slowly and desperately to saw him in half. Once Rocket had a steady pace going back and forth, each pull lasting only a few seconds each way, he cracked his knuckles before rapidly jamming the levers in rapid motion, like a buzz saw Blackjack's underwear sliced through his grundle, causing smoke to comically fly out from his crotch from the friction burn on his fur. All the while, Rocket's view counter kept going up and up as he live streamed the rabbits torture to various sites on the extranet, as an entire quadrant of the galaxy was watching Blackjack get sawed in half by his underwear.

"Phew whee that was a workout," Rocket says, rolling his shoulders as he stepped away from the console, Blackjack still dangling in his bindings in the air, his underwear stretched to cartoonish lengths, practically encasing him in the fabric. "Now let's see if we have enough fabric here to work with," Rocket says, pulling Blackjack down to his level, before pulling the front of his underwear up and over his face, easily securing it back around the back of Blackjack's neck. Blackjack's nostrils once again flooded with his own stench, but the glowing and pulsing pain in his nether region was a bit too distracting to pay much attention to the scent of his own genitals. Not skipping a beat, Rocket walked behind Blackjack, and pulled the back of his underwear up, getting the waistband up and over the top of his head, and with a bit more stretching, securing the waistband easily down over where Blackjack's chin would be, securing him in a giftwrap wedgie. With two layers of fabric over his eyes now, Blackjack's vision was completely enveloped in darkness, as Rocket maneuvered the rabbit till the cuffs held him over his knee, as he proceeded to swing his arm down and spank the rabbit's butt, turning his cheeks a shade of red to match his ailing butt crack. "Now who's my little wedgie bitch, huh Carrots?" Rocket commented, delivering another harsh smack to Blackjack's butt, turning the other cheek red. Blackjack could only yelp and groan into his underwear as Rocket continued his assault on Blackjack's backside. "About ready to call it quits Carrots?" Rocket asked after several minutes, Blackjack's butt glowing red, a harsh contrast to his usual blue fur. "Pl-please, no more..." Blackjack weakly moaned out his entire nether region screaming in burning agony.

"Oh alright folks, I think Carrots here has had enough," Rocket says, getting up and addressing the camera of the live feed, a chorus of boos in the chat flooding the screen. "Now now, we're not fully done yet, we still have the grand finale to send everyone home happy." Rocket uses the mag cuffs to force Blackjack, still stuck in his gift-wrap wedgie, on all fours on the floor, facing towards the cargo bay door. "Now we're gonna send some lucky, and crazily perverted, fan home with a parting gift. You can own you very own pair of Carrots' branded carrot tighty whities, by following the coordinates," Rocket presses a button, pulling a small shuttle rocket out of the loading bay in front of both him and Blackjack, "that'll be broadcasted from this here rocket." Rocket pulls out the holding hooks from the back of the rocket, before attaching a pair of chains to them, and then securing the hooks securely around the waistband and legholes of Blackjack's underwear. "W-wait Rocket, y-you don't have to do this," Blackjack was practically begging Rocket at this point, he had been humiliated enough, but now it almost seemed like Rocket was trying to kill him. "Eh, too late Carrots, you made me the laughing stock of Klaxxon-9, I make you the laughing stock of the whole damn quadrant." Rocket presses the ignition switch, firing up the rocket but holding it in place with the parking brake. Rocket opens the cargo bay door, the force field active and keeping the air and pressure still inside the cargo bay, but allowing other physical items to pass through. Blackjack's vision was returned to him, as the heat and thrust from the rocket blew his underwear back, ballooning it out like a parachute.

"On your marks," Rocket says, readying his hand on the brake release, "get set," knowing all was lost, Blackjack could only squeeze his eyes shut and brace for the impact that was no doubt coming for his tortured backside, "GO!" Rocket releases the brake, sending the rocket flying out the hangar, Blackjack's underwear in tow. A sea of white fabric will little orange splotches that were formerly carrots, but now far too outstretched to have any solid form, covered the cargo bay and held the rocket in place at the edge of the force field. The lone, tiny blue rabbit hybrid, held firmly in place by his mag locks to the floor, could only scream in agony as his unmentionables invaded him so deeply he should start calling it Daddy. The sound of fabric ripping and seams tearing could be heard, muffled only by the sound of a large jet engine that was still trying desperately to escape. Rocket was beside himself with laughter, the sight of Blackjack's underwear stretched over the entire length of the cargo bay, while the rabbit could only scream in pain until his voice gave out, was just too much for the racoon. With a loud and audible SNAP! Blackjack's underwear finally freed themselves from the confines of the rabbit's groin area, and whizzed out the cargo bay along with the rocket as it jettisoned out into deep space. Finally gathering himself, Rocket looked back at the camera as the chat was erupting in cheers and joy at the largest ripping wedgie they had ever seen. "Now get out there searching ya numbskulls, coordinates are being live broadcasted. And when you find those over-grown granny panties, make sure to post a pic out there so I can see just how large they got, I'd love to rub Carrots' face in it more." Rocket turned off the camera, finally done with his live broadcast, as he walked to the defeated Blackjack, his entire lower half a bright inflamed red and in pain. Rocket walked up to Blackjack's face, picking it up off the ground and holding his communicator out in front of them both. "Smile," Rocket says, snapping a picture of the defeated rabbit in his glossy eyed expression. As he was walking away, Rocket turned around and snapped another photo of Blackjack's glowing red butt, "I'll make sure all your contacts see this as well, bet that'll keep you out of contracts for a while, too-ta-loo you rabbit freak!" Rocket walked away leaving Blackjack to collapse on the cargo floor, his mag cuffs finally unlocking as Rocket's ship flew away, leaving him to drift in space. I'll get you back Rocket...just you wait...