"Smashing Midna's Hopes"

Written as a Request for Myths of Legend

Disclaimer: This is a work of parody fiction, intended for adults of age 18+, depending on laws in your local region. All series, characters, locations, etc. remain the rights of their respective owners. All characters present during mature situations depicted as full biological adults. This fiction is not a representation of the author's beliefs, interests, etc.

Content and Trigger Warning: This fictional story includes negative themes such as Violence (including Sexual), Non-Consensual Sex, Public Humiliation, and Trauma. Please do not continue reading if you will find these themes upsetting. All characters and situations are fictional, and are not in any way a reflection of reality.

Special Thanks to my amazing supporters, including: SuperKing, Jessica Bumpus, Matt Schock, a pleasant panther, Nureus, AndroidDX, and Jeffrey Perigo!

-~-Setsune Wiefel-~-



A thin veil of mist hangs in the spacious showers. Moments ago, colorful and strange creatures stood shoulder-to-shoulder, packing the room tightly. Now only two remain: a large lavender space pirate in one corner, awkwardly scrunching down to fit under one of the tallest shower nozzles, and in an opposite corner, a petite shapely imp, hair the color of a burning blaze, humming happily to herself as she lathers up her body. This Princess of the Twilight was in a wonderful mood, finally having been recognized for her stature... as a figure of legend, that is. They had asked she return in a "more fan-recognizable form", but she preferred this size and shape for battle anyway. She'd grown quite used to it on her adventures.

She glanced down at her hip, and amused herself by giving her ample rump a soapy slap, causing the dampened dragon to briefly crane his neck, before returning his gaze forward.

("And it's a lot of fun too.") she thought, playfully. It often amused her to grind down on her "noble steed"'s back as they traveled, making sure to lean in close to whisper advice so her breasts would brush against the fluffy fur of his neck. He was never quite sure what to do with her when he wasn't transformed, and that just made her tease him more. She couldn't wait to see him again, and to drive him crazy, at every opportunity. Just the thought of his awkward, innocent stumbling and blushing was building up a heat inside her. She glanced at the only other figure sharing the showers, and her libido won out. "Oh, why not," she whispered to herself. "I doubt he'll mind..."

Her fingers started to wander across her smooth body, the thin layer of soap aiding their glide over every swell and bump. Now that she had more control over her miniature form, she opted to emphasize a few of her favorite traits: her butt was just that bit thicker, her hanging breasts that much heavier. In polite company a light bit of magic kept her "modesty", such as it was, but here in the showers it was fully relaxed, and as her soap-coated hands cupped her fuller bosom, her thumbs and index fingers pinched her shiny black nipples, gently rolling them. A soft, slow groan slipped from her lips, one fang peeking out to the air as her lips widened. She could see out of the corner of her gaze that her showermate was keeping a close watch on her, and so she decided to continue the show.

One hand still firmly squeezing her breast, the other jade-tipped digits trail down the bulge of her impish stomach, down between her thighs, finding the puffy outer lips between. By now most of the soap had washed off her hands, but all the same her fingers found little resistance, the longest slipping between the flushed folds, pushing easily into her warm pussy. Her moans are needy as she pleasures herself, softly bucking her hips as her palm ground against her sensitive clit. A second digit joins the first, spreading her inner lips wider, thrusting into her slick folds with increasing fury. Tit squeezed tightly in her hand, she fingers herself greedily until her passion crests. Her eyes rolling upward, her lips pulling taunt as she cries out, feeling a flush of her own juices leak down her fingers, dripping off of the curve of her knuckles. She puts a hand to the shower wall to steady herself, panting raggedly. Without warning, she spins her head toward her violet voyeur, a knowing grin splayed across her face.

The dragon whips his head away, caught off-guard, breathing irregularly.

She takes a few more moments to steady herself, and as the drums stopped pounding in her ears, she lathers her hands once more, resuming her tune.

Out in the surrounding locker room, filled with echoes of her cries just moments earlier, her helmet rests casually on top of a letter, folded over with the wax stamp broken. As the two treasured items lay unguarded on the weathered wooden bench, a massive shadow slowly envelops them.

-~-

The voluptuous imp wraps a white towel around her curvaceous body as she steps out of the showers, her mind wandering in a dreamy daze. Absentmindedly tucking the towel corner into a fold, she rounds the door frame, only to freeze in her tracks, her mouth dropping open.

Looming over her are some of the most malicious villains in the competition. To the left, the Koopa King, holding her helmet between his muscular mitts. To the right, a crocodile with a shiny stomach and a maddened stare. And standing between them is the King of Darkness, the Gerudo conqueror, holding her unfolded invite tightly in his fingers. She didn't like where this was going. She had to move fast.

Launching off one foot, she springs toward her helmet, an anchor of her magical power, but too quickly the turtle tyrant presses his stocky hands together, smashing it to dust and sparkles. As he rumbles a mocking laugh, Midna stumbles, barely catching her footing as a wave of unease washes over her. Her headpiece could be reformed with time and effort, but the sudden destruction left her feeling drained; a shell of her former self. Her mind now swimming, not thinking clearly, she turns her attention to the King of Evil, feebly grasping at the out-of-reach invite with one hand, the other trying to hold her towel in place. She hops at it a few times, but each time the Gerudo lifts it just out of reach, his cruel laugh growing. She even tries snagging it with her hair, but the magic mitt feels clumsy, repeatedly missing its mark.

The two flanking felons watch on with their own amusement, reveling in the proud princess flailing so uselessly. "This is far too good to not share!" the Kremling King titters, pulling out a mobile phone he'd lifted from one of the visiting cephalopods, loading up NinTube and framing the scene with the precision of a Hollywood director. Or at least, he thought so.

Midna has settled for weakly beating on the desert tyrant's thighs with her unengaged fist, "Give it back, you piggy nitwit!" she hisses, realizing it sounds more like a whine than a demand as it leaves her lips. Only now the panicked thought enters her head that she needs to leave, but before she can make a break for the exit, a cool leafy rope tangles around her ankle, and hoists her high into the air. The shock of suddenly flipping upside-down causes her to lose her grip on her only covering, the fluffy towel flopping to the floor. She hangs there on full display for the terrible trio, as plump white lips and sharp teeth peer around from behind, the eyeless face studying the struggling imp as if it were a lost doll. The noise had stirred the voracious plant from its slumber in a dark, moist locker, and it just had to see what all the fuss was.

Ganondorf seemed momentarily taken aback at the suspended shortstack, before letting out a dark bellylaugh at her misfortune. He roughly jabs her once in the stomach with an outstretched finger, causing her to sway in the vine's grip as she ineffectively tries to cover herself. So amused by the sight, rather than destroy the tournament invite as he planned, he passes it over to the carnivorous creeper, who receives it in a weedy grip, then drops its captive suddenly to grasp the other side of the letter, studying it with single-minded intrigue. Without a word, it waddles away on stumpy green nubs.

Aching on the floor, her vision blurry, the Princess reaches out with an unsteady hand, "No...! That's mine... I earned it..." The muddy blur of red and green pays her no heed or hesitation as it disappears out of the locker room. Her mind is a jumble of confusion, frustration, and fear, and her weak hopes that the brawny bullies will at least leave her alone now are decimated as Ganondorf kneels down, his dark aura like a bubble of relentless, suffocating pressure around him as he nears. Piercing yellow eyes bore into hers, "Silly little thing, how else did you think this was going to play out?"

The crocodile despot leans closer, bringing the camera phone up to her, "My dear, did you REALLY think you could stand with us? You're a two-bit tart that banished herself away." He spins the phone's camera around to himself, "Us? We're LEGENDS!" Ganondorf gives K. Rool a sidelong glance at the remark, but lets the statement stand. The Koopa King says nothing to follow up, but a low chuckle escapes between his teeth, dotted with a puff of flame.

Her eyes dart around the room, looking for someone, anyone, to aide her. Turning her head, she sees the massive alien pirate that bore witness to her shower show, but his passive gaze does not inspire any hope. The locker room seems otherwise abandoned, many of the combatants having taken to the Training Fields long ago. She was supposed to be out there with them. Without warning, bulky fingers wrap around her neck like a vice, forcing her to gag, and her whole body is hoisted upward to level with the Demon King's gaze.

Through twisted lips and gritted teeth, he snarls, "You are nothing more than a plaything! An item to be used at our pleasure, and tossed away. It seems you need reminding of that." The words ring in her pointed ears, and the nude, buxom imp is suddenly aware of the hungry gazes of her captors. The turtle king in particular seems fixated on the Princess.

Her sadistic captor catches her glance, following it over to the reptile. "Ah, yes, my friend here does have a taste for royalty... That should be a suitable warm-up for your pathetic mouth..." Adjusting his grip to the back of her neck, he carries her to the hulking brute, fingers not budging an inch as the imp tries to wiggle free. Without pause he shoves her up to the sandy-scaled groin. The smell is awful, the turtle king overdue for a lava bath, and above his massive swaying balls, a muscled slit pulls open with a sickly wet sound, as thick Koopa cock pushes into her view. Red with backward-facing horns at the tip, the pattern fades into the yellow-orange of his stomach scales closer to the base. The swelling dick bobs eagerly, already starting to drip watery seed.

Midna opens her mouth to protest, "You can't-", which proves to be a dire mistake, as the Gerudo tyrant wastes no time jamming her open mouth over the ridged head, forcing the numerous inches following down her gullet. The smell is even worse up-close, almost nauseating, and her throat aches as it slides over the intrusion like an overstretched glove. Bowser rolls his head back, barking out a pleased growl, and giant clawed mitts clamp around the sides of Midna's head as Ganondorf released her, the Koopa King now forcing her to bob her head on his throbbing dick. The beast wasn't really looking at her as he used her mouth, almost as if he was imagining someone else in her place, but all the same he mounts her sputtering face demandingly, hardly giving her any time to breathe.

After an achingly long time, as the beast seems ready to spill his seed, Ganondorf declares loudly, "That's enough." He grasps her by the back of her neck and unceremoniously yanks her off of the Koopa dick, the spiked horns dragging up her throat nearly causing her to retch. As the bridging saliva curves and breaks in the air, Bowser bellows out an angry protest.

The Demon King stares sharply at him, "You'll get another turn. Patience my friend."

The turtle huffs out a small puff of fire in annoyance, but protests no further.

With a thought, the King of Darkness wills away his uniform, dissipating it in a deep purple haze. Unrestricted, his drab olive-skinned cock stands unnaturally hard, emerging from a field of jagged crimson hair. The imp princess is again forced unwillingly toward a cock, her obsidian-tipped tits hanging toward the floor as the gap shrinks. The odor is different; a mix of sandy deserts and ancient decay. She knows better than to fight this time, and hesitantly opens her jaw, grasping at what little control she has left in the situation. But instead the Gerudo King smears the leaking tip against her cheek, intentionally prolonging the process. Just as she looks up to him in confusion, he thrusts forward, brutally ramming his shaft between her lips and down her throat.

Her eyes widen at the sudden violation, her body sputtering and gagging, but desperately she tries to will herself to relax. Her mind conjures the intense image of biting off his dick, but its girth keeps her jaw hinged too wide to attempt it, and she lacked any means of escaping his inevitable revenge, anyway. It was all she could do to limit any resistance, letting the Demon use her as a living cock sleeve, grinding his musky dick against her tongue and pounding viciously down her throat. The taste is as stomach-churning as the smell. He forces her further and further down his bloated dick with each savage thrust, until her nose buries in the cardinal beard wrapped around his shaft. Her lungs burn for air, barely choking down a gasp every few thrusts, her drooling lips wrapped snugly around his meat.

On the edge of her fuzzy gaze, she notices her silent voyeur now striding toward her. In sharp talons he steadily pumps a pulsing phallus; the shape oddly alien, and outlandishly long. He cranes his neck toward Ganondorf, and the Demon King silently waves an open palm in invitation, as if presenting a succulent meal. A pleased low click flicks from the space dragon's tongue, and Midna loses sight of him as he circles behind her, until she feels the bulbous tip of his dragon cock pressing hard against her clenched pussy. She whimpers nervously, and he seems to savor the panic. His gangly neck cranes his snarling teeth close to the side of her immobilized head, and he hisses into an ear, "Too ssssmall for Smash..."

Midna's vision turns pure, blinding white as the ridged dick rails into her, like a wedge driven into her insides. Any lubrication from her prior shower play had dried up ages ago, and her pussy burns with searing pain as the space pirate forces his lengthy ribbed dick deeper and deeper into her guts. Where it was even going inside her, she wasn't sure.

As her sight sluggishly returns to her, settling on tinting the world red over the all-encompassing white, she discovers a camera phone held unnervingly close to her face. She'd forgotten she was being recorded; no, livestreamed... And it dawns on her that she was in a recognizable place, yet no one had come to save her. No one was going to. They just want to watch.

"Do smile for the camera, dear!" the crocodile cameraman teases. "Your audience deserves a cheery grin!" Midna's heart was shattered; she wasn't even listening to the Kremling King's commands. That changes as Ganondorf grasps and spins the spit-roasted shortstack on both cocks, the duo of dicks grinding lewdly inside her throat and cunt as she twists. Her eyes go wide, her throat spasming, drops of seed leaking from the Demon King's tip and splashing against the tortured passage like tiny bursts of flame. Gerudo cock still rammed down her throat, Ganondorf wraps his meaty fingers around her cheeks and squishes them together, "He said SMILE!"

After her gaze flicks up to his to confirm her understanding, he tentatively releases her cheeks, and she weakly lifts the corners of her mouth, choking sobs starting to flutter from her chest. The Dark Lord's gravelly voice carves deep into her spirit, "That's right, toy. The world is watching, and they can see that-" He bucks another thrust down her ravaged throat, "-you're just a plaything. A Trophy to be kept on the shelf, only worthy of our cum if we deem it."

Tears start flowing down Midna's taunt cheeks. She'd worked so hard to get here, taking every small chance she could to get in the limelight, only to have it destroyed in an afternoon. No one was going to look at her and see anything but a sexual plaything for a couple of tyrants and monsters. No one watching even cares enough to save her, or tell her green-capped hero she's in danger. ...Did he even care?

Her train of thought is derailed as Ridley's thrusts grow frenzied, and with an ear-piercing screech, his cock pumps unsettlingly viscous goo deep into her, her insides agonizing from the burning fluid. She bites her lip sharply until a trail of blood leaks out, and as the space pirate withdraws his receding dick, a few more jets of the alien cum splash across her stomach and chest, dribbling down across her bruised groin. It seemed to have a consistency more like slime than seed, and the feeling of it oozing along her body is skin-crawling. Her defiled pussy gapes open, letting much of the dragon's cum splatter messily onto the floor.

Any time she had to dwell on her dire situation was ended as a throaty groan passed between Ganondorf's teeth, and he drew his meat out until just the cockhead rested inside. Right in front of her eyes, she could see his balls tighten, and a heartbeat later her mouth fills with thick, nauseatingly sour cum. She weighs trying to swallow it or risking spitting it out, but before she can do either, his voice bellows, "Keep it in there, little imp slut. Or I'll end you." She keeps her cheeks puffed, feeling it cool in her maw, like a soggy paste.

The Gerudo turns his head toward the Koopa King, Bowser lazily pumping his girthy cock. "I think our scaly friend has waited long enough." The turtle grins toothily, a sputter of seed bubbling from the tip of his dick. Ganondorf and Ridley each take an arm, lifting the passive princess up in the air, leaving a trail of space alien spunk on the floor as it flows down her legs. Bowser settles onto a creaking bench, and each grabbing a leg, Midna steels herself for another abuse to her pained pussy. Which is why the sudden forceful pressure against her asshole catches her off-guard, and she lets out a gurgling yelp as she's forced down on the dry Koopa dick, the horned head piercing her pucker and driving deep into her burning bowel. She shivers uncontrollably as her last hole is violated without care, Gerudo cum dripping down her chin from her sputtering outburst. Bowser pays her no mind as he uses her tight asshole to please his bulging cock, his balls slapping against her puffy, sore mound, still leaking Ridley's seed.

K. Rool brings the squid-shaped phone around for a frontal view, getting a clear shot of the imp distended asshole being thoroughly fucked. "Anything she should speak to the world?" he asks openly. Her reddened eyes, still wet with tears, focus on the unblinking lens. Having released the shortstack sex toy to the Koopa King's capable grasp, Ridley once more brings his fearsome face uncomfortably close to Midna's, hissing, "Sssshow them how much a DIRTY SLUT like you enjoys thissss.." The Kremling Sovereign nods in agreement, then looks to Midna and gestures a "Peace" sign from behind the camera phone. She weakly mimics the gesture, holding up both hands in Double-Vs. Ganondorf takes his turn to lean in, grasping her by the chin, "And remind them that you'll never be a Fighter. You'll always be a Trophy wife." He smiles sinisterly. "Then swallow."

Her voice choked, Bowser bouncing her violently with every crude thrust into her aching ass, the viscous fluid slopping around under her tongue making it more difficult to speak, she barely manages, "I... I-'ll ne-ver be a f-fighter... only a t-t-rophy wwwife." Tears streaming down her face, she clamps her teeth shut and tries to gulp down the cold soup of Demon King cum. With considerable struggle she chokes it down, all for the pleasure of the viewing audience. She looks thoroughly miserable, which only causes Ganondorf's dark grin to widen frighteningly.

A puff of flame passes through the Koopa King's teeth just above her head, and she feels him clench under her as he starts to growl, growing it to a full roar. His princess-deprived balls, so pent-up, eject everything they have in one geyser-like cumshot. The force proves too great for the imp's small frame, and wide-eyed, she's ejected from the spasming turtle cock like a limp bottle rocket, landing chin-first on the hard floor. The sight is too much for the onlookers, and all but Bowser burst into uproarious laughter at her expense, at the pathetic sight of the princess now dazed on the dirty tiles, creamy cum bubbling from her overextended asshole. Midna hurt all over, and any scrap of pride was shattered; all her brain could do was retreat into sadness and self-pity, and she writhed and sobbed on the cold floor.

Ganondorf wills himself dressed as easily as he had stripped, crossing his arms. K. Rool glances at the bottom of his screen, "Six digits, not bad my dear!" He seems to distract himself asking people to Like and Subscribe as he strides out. After a breather, Bowser next slides off the tortured bench to his feet, stomping over to the crumpled Midna. Grasping her by the back of the skull one more time, he uses her cheek to wipe the remaining cum off the head of his retreating dick, before carelessly dropping her to the floor once again. Ridley follows the turtle tyrant out, turning around for one last glance, bumping his head against the top of the door frame and hissing a curse.

Left to the King of Evil, her sobs dull in volume, but still persist. He lowers himself to one knee, and utters down at her with disdain, "This is your place, imp slut. NEVER forget it." He stands upright, "Now make sure you're clean for the next time we decide to play with you." She hesitates, then meekly nods. Without a further word, a demonic glow wraps around Ganondorf's body, and he lifts off the floor. Spinning in place, cape swirling behind, he glides effortlessly out of the room.

And then she's alone.

No one to help her.

No one to tell her she'll be okay.

She's been abandoned.


-~-Epilogue-~-

The dimly-lit underground lobby is full of an assortment of guests from other worlds that, for one reason or another, weren't invited as full fighters in the tournament. Instead they remain in reserve, waiting for the chance to... be used for a few seconds, summoned in the service of the heavy-hitters. She sighs deeply to herself. That was supposed to be her. She was supposed to be up there.

"Waluigi knows how ya feel," a shrill voice pipes up. The purple plumber sat next to her fumbles idly with a tennis racket in his white glove. "Us Trophies get no love! Just USED and thrown away! Waaa! We ain't ever gonna get a shot!"

Midna's stare goes vacant, focusing a thousand yards away, and her chin begins to quiver, until she erupts in choking sobs. Despair leaks out of her as she cries openly, unable to hold back the growing pit of suffering inside her.

Waluigi, visibly confused and unsure what to do, slowly scoots his chair further away.

-~-