Your Favorite Healslut 2: Zombie Mode

This was kind of a mishmash of ideas... tilted a bit more towards story than sex, but still keeping up the last Healslut story's “Overwatch meets Wreck-It Ralph” themes. It's a combination of Halloween events, new character updates and alternate skins for characters, and how the characters themselves deal with it while Patcher (aka Healslut) finds herself working outside of her element. I should still have art of her on the way, but I think Patcher's more adorable than sexy (though she is both). She just feels like she has a lot to prove but stays optimistic. The meta jokes and character study in weird situations of this story remains fun and will likely revisit it if I come up with what to vary it up with next.

It was meant to mostly be about Patcher and the addition of a new healer character, but I ended up exploring a few of the others a lot more than I had planned.

Things were going great for Patcher. The ditzy blonde wasn't the most-played character, but she saw plenty of action. It was so nice to actually explore the maps rather than just read about them in the forums or watch them on the instant replays from her waiting room. She was a little scared the first time she'd died, but she was back on her feet in a minute and feeling fine. People still complained about her lack of a weapon, but her teammates couldn't argue when they received a healing kiss or a reviving lapdance.

She was especially excited now that the Halloween update was rolling around. Merc Squad dropped a few extra skins, but every game had the option to randomly rotate their skins around by the session. The servers went down for a few hours to let the troops all get their rest and mingle in their HQ. They had put up a few Halloween decorations in the meeting room with all the holograms and screens that nobody knew what they actually said. The programmers had set out a snack table and a few kegs for them to relax. Chainslash and Gladiator were arm-wrestling in one corner while Dr Dragon lingered in a corner of the table. The Chinese snootily picking through the cheese and crackers before she held it out to her pet dragons to sniff just to put it back.

"Have you SEEN the leaks?" Anarchy complained, the mohawked British bomber elbowing Big Bolt. The towering robot beeped in reply. "I know! They can't just fucking update my profile to say I have an evil twin sister! Wouldn't I have known this cunt existed?! And how the fuck does it make sense that we get a damage buff if we're on the same team?! She's my EVIL fuckin' sister brainwashed by my arch fuckin' enemy! We can't work together! Get their goddamn lore straight, am I right?"

Patcher trotted awkwardly into the party with her hands full of cups of beer. The tall and busty blond trotted around on her high heels in her skimpy armored dress, sliding two of the cups onto the table beside Gladiator. "Don't ye knock those down, ye inbred psychopath! I just got 'em fresh!" the armored Irishman threatened Chainslash as he pushed his hand away from the drinks. "Thanks, lass."

"Oh no trouble!" Patcher chimed before trotting off to hand another beer to Skullfucker. The zombie Russian trooper nodded to her wearily before she dumped it down her throat.

"Thanks," she said in her gravelly voice. "It helps to mask the smell."

"Anything to help!" Patcher chirped, spinning around to hold one in her teeth and pass two more to Roadblocker and Duct Tape. The two mechanics smiled back at the cute blonde as they picked them up.

"You doing alright there, Patch?" Duct asked, the casually-dressed hacker adjusting his glasses. "You can always say no if somebody asks you for a favor."

"I got the feelin' sayin' no isn't Healslut's style, mate," Roadblocker chuckled, the scruffy Aussie engineer sipping his beer and nodded. "Damn good for American piss-water."

"English, technically," Patcher corrected. "The main dev team operated out of Europe. But really, don't worry about me! Nobody asked for them. I'm just like, totally making sure everyone has a good time!" She smiled and trotted off to find Ghost Shot, the boys watching her jiggle her way across the party.

"You ever get on the opposite team from her and just shoot her so she makes those moaning noises?" Duct Tape asked, cringing with guilt. "Cuz my players sure do."

"Mine just like to push around her rag doll," Road chuckled. "If you nudge her enough times, she'll always end up in a face-down arse up positions. Did ya know that?"

The healer found Ghost, who nodded to her and took the cup. Ghost Shot was warming up to the eager little Healslut, especially now that she was getting some actual playtime. She seemed so happy to be out there, even if it met kissing and sucking everyone else while getting shot at. "Thanks, Heals," Ghost said, raising the cup to her. Patcher smiled proudly back as the Spanish sniper sipped it down. "Enjoying the down time?"

"Definitely!" She smiled and looked around at the others. "Everyone's having so much fun."

"I meant you, dumbass," Ghost chuckled.

"Oh. Me. Well, yea. I get to see everybody, and really, it's been working my calves like crazy to be running around in those jet heels all the time." She leaned over to rub her legs and Ghost shook her head as the bimbo unwittingly flashed her panties and cleavage to anyone who cared to look.

"I can imagine. You got a drink?" she asked, raising her cup again.

"Oh, no. I was just getting them for everyone else."

"Then shut up and drink up." Ghost handed her back the beer and nodded. "I'll split it with you. Then let me get the next ones." Patcher started to object, but Ghost pushed it firmly into her hands. "It's a nice party, blondie. Don't make me respawn you."

Patcher giggled vacantly and took the drink for herself, glancing around the room. "I still can't believe I've been getting picked so often. I've hardly been able to keep up with all the updates they've been doing."

"I mean, look at you. People like the eye candy," Ghost said with a shrug. Her tactical armor was lost for the party, leaving her in a black tank top and some well-used jeans. "And it's not like we have a lot of focused healers. Road and Shade have a little bit, but otherwise it's you or Dr Dragon there." She nodded towards the woman in her green robes patterned with Chinese dragons. Her long hair was pulled into a practical ponytail while two similar-looking dragons, one red and one white, followed her around like loyal cats. "And she might have offensive power with the red one, but say what you want about you, you've got personality over that dried up bitch."

"You're so sweet to say," Patcher giggled.

"I am NOT the first person you'd call sweet," Ghost Shot chuckled. "Of course we're all a bunch of sociopaths that kill for a barely put-together plotline. At least you get to keep your hands clean."

"Oh I am NOT the first person players would call 'clean," Patcher denied, getting a laugh from Ghost.

"Okay. Congrats then. You're fucked up like the rest of us."

There was a faint ripple that went through the room as reality shifted subtly. The sometimes-teammates looked briefly puzzled before going back to the party. "Just part of the update," Ghost reported.

"YESSS!" Anarchy hissed from nearby. "No twin sister update! I'm safe for another month! Cuz holy fuck, the lore makes her sound bloody insufferable..."

"Heyyyy! How is everybody!?" A squeaky voice cut through the air as the meeting room's door slid open. A short girl with green skin entered the room, a rocket launcher that was bigger than she was strapped to her back. She looked something like a human dwarf, nearly four feet tall with some wild hair of a darker green shade. Her eyes were narrow and too far apart, almost at the very sides of her face where a pair of short antennae grew instead of ears. She smiled wildly as she entered clad in a lab coat that failed to reach far enough to cover her tits that were even bigger than Patcher's, the bouncing green cleavage wobbling at the slightest provocation. She didn’t wear a thing beneath her coat except for a solitary thong.

"Oh, hey! New girl!" Patcher turned and waved back at the equally enthusiastic shortstack.

“Would you look at the jiggle physics on her…” Roadblock muttered, getting some laughs from the party. It was interrupted by some barking as a Siberian husky ran into the room, some kind of armored device strapped to his back with a few miniature turrets built into it. He ran around excitedly sniffing at everyone before settling on Patcher, who knelt down and ruffled his furry cheeks.

“Oh aren’t you cute…” She focused on the armed backpack where B.O.R.K. was engraved into the front. “Bork! You’re such a good boy! You’re gonna frag so many bad guys, aren’t you, Bork? Aren’t you!?” The dog licked her face happily and she giggled as she turned away.

“Uh, Heals?” Ghost asked as she stepped in behind her. “Aren’t you worried?”

“No. Why?”

“You know. With how you heal and all…”

“Oh… right.” Patcher cringed as she turned back to the dog. “I don’t have to kiss the dog, do I?” She cautiously pet her hand along its back and the dog barked happily. A few hearts and plus signs flew out over its head. “Oh thank god that’s all I need!”

"Awful wee for a character model, ain't ye?" Gladiator asked. The huge man stooped down and leaned on his knees to squint at the little green girl.

"I make up for it with crappy HP," the green girl explained. " And not a lot of raw damage. But I'm a healer type, so that's to be expected, right?"

"At least they gave you a gun," Roadblocker chuckled, glancing at Patcher across the room. "So how do you do your healing? Goblin magic?"

"Oh, my backstory says that I'm an alien," the little lady answered brightly. "I'm what you call a pocket healer, so they call me Pocket Rocket. Check it..." With a little "Hup!" she jumped high into the air, hugging her little three-fingered arms around Roadblocker's chest. With a quick gesture, she pulled down his pants and thrust her hips into his. The thong slid aside easily as she mounted his cock, getting the Aussie to grunt and almost lose his balance. A bright blue slime drooled from her pussy over his erection.

"Oh, that feels plenty good, alright..." Road groaned.

"Right? It turns out our genetic structure is complimentary, so just being inside me makes you healthier. In fact... hup!" Pocket Rocket twisted herself around, facing away from Road to lash out with a four-foot long narrow tongue. It slipped into Shade's pants, slurping at her pussy from across the room. "Double heals! Pretty cool, huh?"

There was some interested murmurs from the team as Patcher went on petting Bork with Ghost Shot. "Did you hear that?" Patcher asked brightly. "Double heals. Finally another good healer on the group. Even I can't do that."

"You're taking this surprisingly well, Patches," Ghost admitted.

"No, I'm really panicking," Patcher hissed quietly through her teeth. "I'm just petting this dog so I don't show it."

"Seriously? Look, blondie, she's not gonna replace you. You're like one of the most popular characters right now and you've had more playtime than ever. They even put your art gallery on the shortcuts of the forum. They're not gonna replace you any more than they are Bitchbot..."

"Who?"

Ghost paused and opened her mouth, but shut it again. She tried a few more times with the same results. "Huh. Hey, guys! New update! They changed Lugnut's name to Bitchbot!"

The assassin droid tilted her head to one side at an inhuman angle before she grinned slowly. "I like it," her rippling voice mused. "Bitchbot..." she repeated, staking a piece of pepperoni on her wrist spike and nibbling at it. She paused as the lights overhead flickered before most of them went off. Some of the red emergency lights stayed on, vaguely outlining the room and the halls.

"Was... that supposed to happen?" Duct Tape asked. He pulled his cell phone out and started hitting some keys before a few of the lights came back on. "Something damaged the generators," he sighed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"IIIIIII think the Halloween event is live," Patcher said warily as she rose back to her feet.

"What makes you say that?" Ghost Shot asked. The security door suddenly thumped. She looked over her shoulder just as a clawing, fleshy hand burst through the steel. "Ah shit!" she yelled, pulling her pistol from her belt. "I believe you now!" A groaning skeletal head peered through the hole and she quickly popped it in the head. Several more lurched in to take its place.

"Nice! We got a new zombie mode, people!" Chainslash cracked the knuckles, the hooded killer patting around at his pockets. "Has anybody seen my chainsaw?"

"Or my rifle?" Shade added. The stocky black French woman looked around the room, usually toting an entire anti-tank rifle to go with her burly figure.

"We left all the important gear by the coat check," Skullfucker growled, popping out her eye and tossing it through the hole in the wall. The zombie shut her remaining eye and frowned as she looked through her detached eye. "And there are hundreds of those things in that direction."

"Other way. Grab what you can," Ghost Shot ordered. "We're moving out. Form up into teams and we'll scout until we can find a clear a way out. We need to get to the armory, the exits, or the ventilation room so we can gas these fuckers with the cure. Any stops at the med bay or to get our gear is secondary, people. Let's show these braindead undead how dumb it is to fuck with a team of government-sanctioned mercenaries!"

Big Bolt beeped out something as he shrugged. The others were checking whatever sidearms they had handy while others improvised something out of chair legs as he stood by the door with his dukes up.

"He says that he's a robot so he can't get infected," Bitchbot/Lugnut translated. "And he fights with his fists anyway. He can hold them off while we move."

"Biggy, mate, I don't think-" Anarchy started. The door suddenly gave way completely as a trio of zombies lead the charge. One ripped the robot's arm off in one go, biting into the metal with no problem. The metal rusted away and turned to a blackish purple before it crumbled to pieces. Big Bolt let out an alarm-like beeping as he punched one of their heads off and ran after the others with thundering footsteps.

"Alright! Teams of four, people! Move it!" Ghost barked, gesturing down the various hallways as they ran. "Try and regroup when you can!"

The teammates scattered whenever they passed a turn and Patcher heard shouts and gunfire behind her. Ghost whistled and waved her hand in front of her, getting her to snap out of it and turn down the next hall. She didn't bother to check who was going with her until they made their next turn and she leaned against a wall. Patcher checked her wrist. It looked like she was taking her pulse, but she felt the blue wristband appearing on her wrist. "Maximum Overtroll" appeared across it.

"Okay... I think that was our intro cutscene," Patcher panted breathlessly, trying to fix some of her blonde hair. "And character selection is done. Does anybody know what's going on?" She looked back at her squad for the mission; Chainslash was with her, though the hooded killer looked notably different. For one, the fat brute was no longer hooded at all. He wore a large cowboy hat, a white suit and a big red moustache that covered most of his face instead. Pocket Rocket was there, only coming up to his waist. The green alien now had pink skin and hair, wearing some skimpy suspenders over her shorts with a bandolier full of peppermints and lollipops. The bandolier and suspenders just barely served as enough to cover her nipples. Skullfucker was there, the red-headed zombie now with darker skin and some neon body paint making a skull along her face and hands. A black top hat was at a jaunty angle on her head and a damp, wrinkled suit with an open chest replaced her usual battered combat gear.

"Oh... oh, guys? You uh..." Patcher giggled and pointed at them. Chainslash reached up and patted his face, growling angrily.

"Ahhh shit. It's the Halloween event!" Chain snarled. The updates had included a mode to randomize their skins/costumes on each playthrough.

"Ooh! What did I get?" Patcher looked down and turned around awkwardly, giggling at her new outfit. Fishnets, a tight and revealing pink one piece, and a set of yellow bunny ears gave her a full on Playboy bunny look to go with her usual rocket heels. "Oh that's cute! Do I have a tail? Tell me this skin has a tail!" She rotated around, trying to tilt her head enough to see until Pocket Rocket smacked her on the ass.

"Yes! You have a tail! Jeez, and I thought Team A got the dumb bitch on their team..."

"Oh, he's not a bitch. Bork is a boy," Patcher corrected politely. She blinked a few times and looked around. "Wait, did we really get on Team C?"

"Nyet. Team B," Skull reported. "You would think that zombie would get picked for zombie mode, but noooo! What am I to do? Bite you all and win? I am not even infectious!"

"It does sound pretty insensitive," Patcher admitted. "They introduce aliens this update AND there's plagues of zombies..." She snapped her fingers. "But wait! We don't have our equipment! That must mean there's new perks to each player!"

"Speak for yourself!" PR whipped the bazooka off her back, now decorated with frosting and hard candies. "I got my trusty jawbreaker here. This Sugar Skull skin might look dorky, but at least I brought my shit to the party."

"I don't think it looks dorky..." Patcher muttered, rubbing her bare arm.

"At least I got stuck with SOMEone with a real gun," Chainslash huffed, cracking his knuckles. "I guess I'll be fighting the old fashioned way."

"I mean, I never had a gun," Patcher pointed out, but nobody was listening. It was only when Patcher nearly dropped it that she realized she had a champagne bottle still clenched tightly in her fist. She sighed and looked it over. Not a bad weapon for a swing or two, but it wouldn't last. Her usual healing role was obviously sticking with her.

"Well hey! We can figure this out no problem!" Pocket went up to Chainslash and tugged on his waistband. "Lemme up there, stretch. I'll mount up and keep you healed, and patch up Skullfuck here with my tongue when she needs it. I'll cover us at a range and then you bust 'em up when they get close."

"Works for me." Chainslash undid his belt, bringing out the massive cock that had impaled Patcher on her first field mission. Sure she had tamed him with it, but it still made her cringe. The stumpy alien still jumped up, taking it up her ass with another squish of alien juices as she aimed it ahead of her. Chainslash grunted as he wrapped a hand around her waist. "Damn, Healslut. Pocket Pussy here is even tighter than you."

"Thanks, big fellah," Pocket giggled cheerily. "Now let's go blow up some zombos. No offense, Skulls."

"None taken." She pulled her eye out again, holding it around the corner before waving them on, leading the way through their maze of a base. Patcher followed behind them, since she wasn’t left with much else to do.

"Are you kidding me with this no healer shit?" Ghost growled as she looked around. She was in her Going Commando skin, which amounted to some pink and black lingerie on her dark skin. She looked back at her party of Bitchbot, Gladiator and Shade. "Players these days!"

"The dog was very popular," Bitchbot replied. The assassin robot looked fairly human, wearing street clothes and an occasionally flickering hologram of human flesh across her skin. Her illusionary face smirked at their squad leader. Gladiator was done up in a kilt and body paint while Shade wore a lucha mask and spandex.

Ghost just sighed and checked her ammo. Not a ton of shots, but enough to make her effective enough for a would-be sniper. At least Bitchbot would still be mobile and stealthy while packing her spike shots in her wrists, but who knew how long her ammo would hold out. "Okay, standard formation. Tanks up front. Bot, you watch flanks. I'll cover fire." She shook her head as she took on a braced aiming stance. "Hopefully we'll find the others before long."

Patcher had to admit that their team's strategy was working. Skullfucker's portable eye was helping them pick their battles, dodging the wandering swarms of drooling zombies and hitting the smaller patches hard and fast. The first bundle of a half dozen went down in seconds as Pocket Rocket's bazooka most of them away. From there she swung her bazooka around like a club as pivoted around on Chainslash's dick while the big murderous hillbilly barged into them. He ripped one in half with his bare hands while stomping the other one into the metal floors to finish it off. Some encounters were a little more messy and frantic, but they had Pocket there to heal them up as they went. Patcher made a few sheepish attempts to speak up and offer her help, but she kept getting alerts that they were already at full health with Pocket Rocket around. Things went smoothly over and over, dodging hordes while blowing up the small batches with rockets before letting their hitters move in.

"You sure you don't need any help?" Patcher offered meekly as Chainslash casually wiped some of the zombie gore off his comically huge moustache.

"Got it covered," he grunted. "The pocket medic's doin' a great job over here."

"Oooh, same to you, big guy. Thanks for the ride!" Pocket Rocket giggled and wiggled her hips, getting a big groan from the pink shortstack's grinding as she slid her ass up and down his cock. She didn't even flinch while Patcher remembered welling up a few tears just from taking him into her during her cockblocking Ultimate. "We should be getting close to one of the checkpoints, right, Healslut?"

"Uh... I don't know?" Patcher said, tilting her head in confusion. "I've only really been in the meeting room and the med bay, and that's just in the Youtube cinematic series. They must have just programmed this in recently."

"Wow, talk about useless," Pocket scoffed. "I guess just hold onto your bottle there so we can celebrate once we're done doing all the hard work."

Chainslash gave a snorting laugh at her remark while Skullfucker tossed her eye in one hand. She went to the next fork in the hall. She held it out and checked the right, but there was a sudden snarl as a pair of zombies jumped her from the left. "Looks all cl-OH SHEET!" The undead trooper went down thrashing and kicking against her kind as Patcher let out a terrified shriek.

"Let's FUCK 'EM UP!" Chainslash roared, charging headlong into the incoming swarm of zombies. He bowled over some that were piling on Skullfucker before he grabbed one's skull and smushed it to pieces inside his massive fist. He went on swinging wildly while Pocket Rocket turned and pumped her bazooka into them as quickly as she could. It was the biggest batch they'd faced so far, and soon Pocket turned her gun away.

"Gotta reload!" she called as she lashed out her healing tongue. It went for Skullfucker's pants, but a few zombies spotted it and started to bite at it until she pulled it back. Pocket patted down her shorts and her eyes went wider. "How am I out!?"

"You're WHAT?!" Chainslash shouted as he flung a gnawing zombie off his arm.

"I'm out of missiles! We haven't seen one ammo crate this whole time! EEE!" She ducked low on Chainslash's hips, letting one of the lunging zombies slash him instead with its raking nails. They were slowly overwhelming him, doing damage faster than Pocket could heal. One of the ones that Chain had ripped in half came crawling across the floor, its guts dragging behind it as its mouth snapped at Chainslash's junk, and with it Pocket herself.

"No no no! I don't have that much HP!" Pocket squeaked, trying to scoot up higher on Chainslash's dick. Her ass proved to be too tight a fit, only able to scoot up slowly as her booty pumped up and down.

"Ugh! Stop it, pipsqueak. I'm bout to..." The fat slasher grunted hard and an audible squelching sound came from between the two characters. His cum came sliding out of her tight asshole, making Pocket's roll her eyes back and bite her lip. Chainslash himself stumbled and leaned on a wall as he finished cumming inside her, right as the zombies dogpiled him.

"Just a sec!" Patcher ran past Skullfucker and swung her champagne bottle. The surprisingly hard glass clunked loudly off her attacker's head, splattering the last zombie's head to free up the voodoo ally. She grabbed Pocket by the suspenders and creamed a groping zombie across the face, knocking a few rotten teeth loose as it groaned and crumbled to the ground. "I've got you!"

"Lot of good that does me!" Pocket shouted back, swinging her bazooka to smack another monster.

"Just don't hold on too tight!"

"Wait, what?!" Patcher didn't bother answering, just pulling on her suspenders. The wet squishing noise sounded again as Patcher peeled her asshole off from around Chainslash's cock, the shortstack alien screaming at the reversed assfucking. She came off with a loud pop as Patcher tucked her under her arm. The zombies completely buried Chainslash with snarling and munching noises as Patcher ran back to the downed Skulfucker. "We're going the other way! Get up!" Patcher declared. Do you need a lapdance?"

"Does she what, you dumb skank?" Pocket demanded.

"It's my power! Don't ask! Skull!?"

"Is no time." The Russian zombie trooper crawled towards her, barely able to move at a snail's pace. she grabbed herself by the hair and pulled, popping off her head and throwing it to Patcher. "Go. I can buy time. Will regrow body."

"You will?" Patcher shook her head and dismissed it, rushing off down the other hall as she triggered her rocket heels for a speedy sprint, her arms full of allies and a bottle of champagne. She peered back and saw Skull's lower body dive into the zombie horde, bashing a few down before she was suddenly thrown back. Chainslash rose again, but his skin gray and green and with a visible lurch to him.

"Oh shit! Faster, bitch! Faster!" Pocket shouted, smacking Patcher on the ass.

"Ow! You're not helping!" Patcher whined a she vanished around a corner, deciding that anything ahead of them was better than what was behind.

"Great! Now I know what you must feel like all the damn time."

"Okay, that's it!" Patcher let her heels burn out their cooldown meter and spotted a door. She gave the knob a tug, just to find that it wasn't programmed to open. Still fuming, the blonde went to the next one. It was just a walk-in closet, but she stormed in anyway. She set Skullfucker on a shelf but shoved Pocket Rocket into a coat hanger, letting her suspenders catch on the edges and dangling her like a hyper busty pinata.

"Hey! Knock it off, Healslut! I'm getting a monster wedgie over here and I've already got a nut up my ass!" Pocket objected, kicking and flailing in her suspended state.

"What is your problem?! We're being chased by zombies in the first time in this mode! Chainslash just died and un-died, or re-died, or I DON'T KNOW!" she concluded in a whinier but still angry tone. She pouted as some tears welled up in her eyes. "But I am TRYING to help and you just keep calling me useless and mean names!"

"Cuz you're useless! Look at you! You can run away and swing a bottle around," Pocket Rocket defended, folding her arms over her chest. "You've got no dick so I can't mount you, and the one guy you could revive just turned into a zombie. So what are you bringing to the table?"

Patcher bit her lip for a bit before breaking into tears. She bawled out of control, clearly trying to sniffle and wipe them away but failing as they kept overwhelming her eyes and makeup. Pocket's stern expression slowly softened as she went on crying. "Okay, that was a little harsh of me..." Pocket muttered.

"No! You're right! That's why I was... I... (sniff). I was trying to be extra nice to everybody. Everyone was (sob) using my actual name and I was getting play time. I got to kiss and heal and grind on everybody and they thought I was finally useful! Then I read they were adding another Healer, and I... I was, like, so super scared thought you were gonna replace me. I don't want to go back into the dropship and be alone again..."

Pocket sighed and slumped, which made her suspenders cover up even less on her chest and thighs until she had an obvious cameltoe. "You're not getting replaced, stupid."

"Yes I am!" Patcher bawled. "I don't have a gun and I look slutty and I'm a big fat target. Not like you!"

"Are you kidding?! You heal like ten times faster than I do with your kisses! You've got like triple my HP, my move speed is a joke on my own, and I'm total snipe bait when I'm strapped to somebody like a human shield."

"Also, I am just head." The two looked up at the grim-faced Skullfucker's disembodied head. "But you two were having moment. I vill be quiet."

"Look, Patches," Pocket Rocket went on. "I'm the new girl here. I've got to make a big impression. Playing the stage while riding on a teammate's dick and healing up the other one's a real good way to show it off. I don't want to end up in the NPZ either."

Patcher took one of the bunny ears and wiped her eyes. "What's the NPZ?"

Pocket chuckled. "That's the No-Play Zone. Where the bottom-tier characters get stuck. See? The fact that you don't even know that term means you're not getting forgotten. I was already programmed and waiting for my debut, freaking out over the forums where people were finding leaked footage of me. I didn't know what they'd think once I got in there, and you were so crazy popular... I thought making some noise and riding some dick like you might get me some attention."

Patcher smiled feebly as she sniffed and started to stop crying. "And I'm not fat?" she asked hopefully.

"You've got the same hitbox as all the regular characters," Pocket sighed. "Just some weird jiggle physics going on in the soft spots, but that just makes you a harder target."

"Wow, you know a lot about the meta," Patcher admitted, wiping some of the tears away and smudging her makeup.

"Yea, well, like I said: locked up and waiting with just the dog to talk to. Hope he's doin' okay... this map's pretty brutal if you don't watch where you're going... and wipe that up. You look like shitty fanart of yourself." Pocket reached into her cleavage and took out a large peppermint. She popped it into her mouth and handed its oversized wrapper to Patcher.

"Thanks, Rocket." She wiped up what she could before smiling hopefully at the suspended shortstack. It was partly cleaned up, but the tears were still obvious.

"We'll blame it on the update," Pocket said with a shrug. "Now can I get down if I promise to stop talking shit about you? ...when I'm not behind your back, anyway."

"Okay!" Patcher happily undid one of her straps. Pocket sighed and rolled her eyes, but Patcher suddenly twirled her around and smacked her hard across the ass. Pocket shrieked and grabbed her butt, left dangling like a pinata as Patcher delivered several more hard, loud spanks to her pink (and turning red) booty. "But DON'T do it again!" she said harshly. "Or next time I'm leaving you to respawn."

"Okay! Fine!" Pocket whined as she dropped down. Patcher let the alien wiggle her hips and try to pick the cum-stained shorts out of her ass crack. "So what's our next move?"

"Well... what do you think?"

"What do I think?" the shortstack scoffed. "I'm new here, remember. I took my first steps today, so I'm sure not figuring out this map already."

"No, but you read the spoiler leaks," Patcher said, tapping her chin. "So if you, like, have some smart ideas or clues or something."

"They didn't upload the map," Pocket said, shaking her head. "But they did say there were built-in mechanics to steer the team's decisions."

"Like what?"

"Like each team is supposed to reach one or two of the locations easier than the rest. If you go too far off course, they said you can run into bigger hordes of unpassable zombies."

"So that was the wrong way..." Patcher mused. "What else?"

"That dead players come back as zombies, but there are ways to revive them. The bites themselves aren't infectious, though, they just do damage." Pocket winced and rubbed her chest. Patcher could see a large purple-pink bruise on one of her tits. "That part's definitely true."

Patcher knelt down and frowned. "Wait, you took damage?"

"Yea, when they were stomping the crap out of Chainslash."

Patcher blinked slowly at her. "So you don't have self-heal? No regen?"

"Why? You do? Well if you don't just have it all, Healslut."

"Oh shut up." Patcher pulled on her suspenders and kissed the little pink alien. Pocket moaned and tipped up one of her legs as she leaned into it, opening her mouth so that Patcher's thicker tongue pushed past her long and narrow one. The two healed as they made out in the closet temporarily ignoring the zombies as they moaned and pushed their oversized breasts into each other. Their lips smacked as they pulled back apart and Patcher squeezed the shortstack's ass. "Next time you're hurt, you tell me. Okay, newbie?"

"Sure, doc," Pocket conceded.

"Good. Now strap in."

"I told you, I can't mount someone without a cock or something I can ride on."

"Not what I meant. Come on." Patcher grabbed Skullfucker's head, tying her to her the belt of her Playboy bunny outfit by a hunk of hair. She picked up Pocket Rocket and held her over her shoulders, slipping her arms through her suspenders to wear her like a backpack. It was extra tight on her tits, but apart from a short squeak Pocket didn't object. Having ridden a giant cock for most of the map, she had been in worse positions. "You swing at anything behind me. I'll run with my rocket heels and tank if I have to. With my regeneration, I can bail out and heal if they try to catch up to me."

"Quick thinking for a bimbo," Pocket praised.

"Thanks. Now let's run for our lives."

Their strategy worked out nicely. Skullfucker was nothing in a fight now, but Patcher held her out around corners to confirm where the zombies would be coming from. She bolted fast enough to run right past the smaller hordes, letting Pocket take cheap shots as them as they flew by. They were actually looking like they were going to make it. Patcher stuck Skull out in front of another hall and she frowned.

"Not good," she reported grimly.

"Why? More zombies?" Patcher asked.

"Is worse. Lots of zombies and the other teams on other side."

"What?" Patcher poked her head around the corner. She saw a good fifty zombies milling about the end of the hall while the other turn had a door labeled Med Bay. Behind the mass of zombies, there was a sealed steel door and a control console that had "LOCKED" in big red letters. There was some glass along the top, enough that they could see even more zombies on the other side of the door. With a lot of dull pops, Patcher saw Ghost Shot shooting down zombies with her pistol in one hand and a knife at the ready in her other. She could hear barking from Bork as his armored suit mowed down zombies with laser blasts and Big Bolt took up half the window, punching out zombies with his one remaining arm.

"Oh no! Ghost's in trouble! They need help!" Patcher gasped.

"Help how? No bullets," Pocket hissed back.

"And no body," Skull added grimly. Patcher bit her lip, thinking has as she blinked in realization.

"With champagne!"

"What?!" her comrades snapped back. She held up her bottled weapon.

"Like a cartoon! I can pop the cork and it can hit the controls so hard that it opens up and lets the others in! Then we can flank this bunch of zombies, get them into the med bay and we win!"

"Not out of the question, I guess," Pocket admitted. "Your human controls do seem very susceptible to cork technology. And that thing's gotta be good for something, right?"

"Just trust me." Patcher shook up her bottle and aimed carefully, lining it up past the zombies' heads and the controls. She popped the cork and sure enough, it flew off like a shot... and bounced off the door harmlessly. Gladiator looked confused over his shoulder before suddenly ripping off an overhead light fixture and bashing a zombie down with it. Patcher's own pack of zombies looked in their direction, where Patcher had already pulled back. They looked suspiciously at the foam and alcohol pouring out from around the corner.

"What the fuck was that?!" Pocket demanded.

"I'm sorry!" Patcher squeaked. "There's no crosshair on this thing! I had to guess!"

"Well you guessed wrong! What now?!"

"We get lucky!" Patcher grabbed and pulled Skullfucker off her belt and turned the corner, chucking her head to soar over the zombies. They stared up at the screaming female zombie as she bounced off the door, missing the controls as well.

"Your aim suck, comrade Patcher!" Skull called from behind the mob. They looked down at her in confusion. "Yello. I am distraction. Is pleasure to meet you."

"I can fight I can fight I can fight I can fight," Patcher chanted to herself. The Med Bay was right there, but everyone else was stuck behind the lock. The others on her team were helpless, and they all needed her help. Gripping the neck of her bottle, Patcher went charging around the corner shrieking a panicked war cry. She swung her bottle and a loud clunk dropped one zombie to the floor. Another swing knocked one into a wall, but Pocket was still stuck to her back as she swung and smashed it under the butt of her bazooka.

"Got your back, bitch!" she shouted as Patcher cringed and swung again. CLUNK CLUNK! A double swing dropped two at once.

"Why yes, I think I started distracting at young age. Is how I died, you see. My backstory is very interesting if you care to listen... also, might want to duck." Skull kept casually talking to the zombies as Patcher smashed another one upside the head and brained the one still staring at the disembodied ally. She was making progress! She was doing it! Patcher was actually damaging things for the first time in her life!

One zombie lunged at her, grabbing and tearing off one of the cups to her one piece. She elbowed it away and smashed its head like a water balloon, cringing as she sprayed herself with some green gore. "Ohhh this is soooo super gross!" she whined, but broke into a desperate smile. "But we're doing it!" The zombies were too slow and surprised and she was slaughtering a path towards the controls. She swung hard once again...

And a zombie tripped. Her bottle missed completely and hit the nearby wall, shattering to pieces in her hands on the spot. Patcher stared at the ruined weapon in her hands, but another zombie grabbed and bit her in the shoulder. The blonde yelped and turned around, jamming the broken bottle into its face. It fell over with the weapon stuck in its mushy nose socket, but she turned back to the twenty-some zombies with nothing but her dainty hands built for nothing but stroking and squeezing teammates. She gasped as another one tore off more of her costume, both breasts spilling out as they gnawed on and groped her. With a quick whip crack noise, Patcher gasped as she felt Pocket's tongue wrap around her breast. She licked over her nipple and Patcher felt a surge of warmth run through her as she started getting healed.

"Rush it, stupid!" Pocket shouted, kicking off another zombie and smashing it with her bazooka bat. Patcher sucked up a breath and fired up her rocket heels, plowing into the mob. Their grimey hands groped at her, ripping at her hair and clothes. She was practically naked by the time she neared the console, their hands going everywhere as she winced and moaned. She wrestled against them as her heels gave out, hand groping desperately at the controls just inches away. One bit into her cheek, causing no real visible damage but hitting her HP hard while it smeared its spit over her face. She pushed him away just for another two to pile onto her, their foul-smelling and rotten dicks rubbing against her face.

"Ewwww why would they animate that?" Patcher whined. She bit down on one's dick of them until the creature hissed and recoiled. She ducked between the other's legs, letting Pocket smash it in the junk with her bazooka to obliterate his lower body. Patcher reached for the lever when she was suddenly pulled back, screaming in pain as a strong hand clawed and pulled back on her pussy. Her eyes watered up again as she turned and saw the zombie Chainslash, still in his comical cowboy outfit as he buried his fingers into her groin.

"Slutttt," he droned in his zombified voice, pulling roughly again on her naked crotch. Patcher winced and shuddered, her body confused from all the groping and licking going on.

"No... not now," she moaned, hearing the gunshots slowing and then stopping on the other side as the others started screaming. "Not like this..."

"She said NO, asshole!" Pocket slid out of her suspenders and jumped at Chainslash, just to get backhanded away by the massive psycho. She bounced off a wall with a grunt, but it gave Patcher enough time that she heard a dull beep. With her heels recharged, she threw up her leg and fired one of them up. The burst of plasma scorched Chainslash's face, making him howl and recoil in pain. Patcher jumped up and grabbed Pocket's bazooka, swinging it with all her might and clocking him across the face with the long firearm. Chain spun around 360 degrees before slumping to the floor. Patcher was still catching her breath when she lunged with another burst of heel power, smacking the button on the controller as it turned from locked to unlocked. It flew open and Ghost spun around to stare at her.

"Patch!" Ghost gasped.

"Silvia!" Patcher tried to run and hug her, but something hit her from behind. Things went blurry and then they went black.

Patcher woke up staring at the med bay’s ceiling. She groaned and writhed on the cot before coming back to her senses. “Silvia? Is that you?” she asked wearily. A few beeps and boops answered her. “Oh. You’re not Silvia,” she said, looking over at the one-armed Big Bolt. He waved a big metal hand as Ghost Shot came rushing in.

“Oh good. You’re okay,” she sighed in relief. “It was a close one, but you made it.”

“I could have just respawned, you know,” Patcher mumbled as she boosted herself up.

“Yea, but that would have taken more out of the player’s score. We lost a few on the way, but most of us made it to safety. Not bad for a trial run of the map.” Dr Dragon entered her hospital room, a small flask in hand and her costume modified into a set of skimpy medieval armor. Patcher suddenly remembered what happened.

“Oh! How’s Pockets?” She gasped and covered her mouth. “Did she die sacrificing herself to save me?!”

“Nothing so poetic or ironic, I’m afraid,” Dr Dragon said with a distasteful frown. “The alien rode on Shade to escape here with us and made sure that Gladiator picked you up. I kept my life dragon with you until you were healed enough to regain consciousness, since the zombies couldn’t focus enough to finish you off. We’re sealed off in here for a few minutes while the sprinkler systems fill the base with our cure. You can still see some of the more stubborn zombies melting in the halls if you wanted to go investigate.”

“Oh. Uh, no thanks,” Patcher excused.

Dr D sighed and rolled her eyes. “But the little creature did ask about you. I’m not sure how your B-list team made it to where you had, but you did. Naked and decapitated and minus one man, but you made it.”

“Oh yea. Do I want to know how Chainslash is doing?”

“No,” Ghost summed up. “But!” She took Patcher’s hand, getting her to blush before she lifted the blonde’s arm to show Patcher her wristband. “You got voted play of the game.”

“I got a pog?!” Patcher gushed, smiling wide and looking to confirm it. There was a little gold trophy next to the player ID.

“You are a PAWG,” Ghost laughed. “But yes.”

“Wow, Mr. Maximum Overtroll must be so proud of me! I’m still not super sure how this game mode works, but I promise I’ll work on my aim with corks next time!”

“I’m not even going to ask,” Ghost said, shaking her head and patting the naked blonde on the arm. “Just glad you’re safe after all this bullshit.”

“You too, Silvia." The sniper rolled her eyes and decided not to stop her from using her real name. "So how does shorty do under pressure?"

"Oh she's great once you get to know her!" Patcher said brightly.

"So in other words, kind of a bitch?"

"Yea! But we worked things out."

Ghost snickered. "Yea, been there. Look, I just stuck around so you didn't think we forgot about you, so I'm gonna go reload and everything for the next round. Make sure you're up and ready before then, alright?" Patcher nodded and Ghost Shot let herself out. Patcher looked after her with a smile, but jumped when the white, dog-sized dragon hopped up and leaned its fore-paws on the bedside. Patcher sighed and went to a cabinet, opening it to coincidentally find her normal outfit loaded inside it.

"Hey, doc?"

"Don't call me that," Dr. Dragon said with only the faintest hint of annoyance in her listless voice. She was reading through a book (even if it wasn't programmed to have its pages turned) and petting her red dragon with her free hand.

"Were you scared when they updated us with another Healer?"

"Gods no. I'm an 'easy-mode' healer. She's a stationary target strapped to a mobile target that shoots fireworks everywhere she goes. The tiny creature's going to become one of the most valuable target on the mat. I'd much rather heal from the rear with my babies." She made a smooching noise and the red dragon climbed into her lap, giving off a content little burst of fire from its broad nostrils.

"I wish I had your confidence," she sighed. "Maybe then people would respect me and like me a little more."

"Young lady, let me tell you something: people don't like me. PLAYERS like me. I do nothing but sic dragons on people until I can summon a bigger mini-boss dragon in the middle of the stage. I don't even have to lay eyes on people to kill them, and people love to not die." She sighed and gestured at the dressing Patcher. "Confidence doesn't make people like you. People like people that actually want to help them. Who actually care and treat them kindly and do things with energy and... ugh... enthusiasm.Those are the people who makes friends with everyone. Things come to me far too easily for any of that." She tossed her book aside and went to the bookshelf, feeling around for one that was an actual asset and could be pulled off the shelf and wasn't just a colorful pixel.

"Oh... so how do I do that?" Patcher asked as she adjusted her thong with the cat tail.

"I was talking about you, you imbecile," Dragon added dryly, as if admitting to her compliment disgusted her. She finally plucked up a book. "And off the record... I was more intimidated by the dog."

Patcher giggled. "You were afraid of the dog?"

"If anyone was going to replace me, it's the mutt. My dragons hate being around that thing, and if there's anyone that players are going to hesitate in shooting, it's that disgustingly cute little bitch." Dragon smirked wryly. "Present company excluded, of course." Patcher giggled again despite the jab at her, but a red light started slowly blinking overhead. Patcher looked at her wrist and saw the player name vanish and several cases of Loading went scrolling past.

"Looks like we're due back at the party. Do you think they want us to act surprised again?"

"I think we'll be skipping the cutscene this time. At least if I have anything to say about it... oh for the love of! This perverted idiot again!?" Dr. Dragon threw up her hands, standing up abruptly as her dragon fell off her lap. Patcher leaned in close enough to read "DocDragon's Daddy" written across her wristband. "What is wrong with you?! My backstory says that I'm practically asexual! He's probably going to have me keep squatting at inappropriate moments again."

"Trust me, it’s a great workout for your butt." Patcher chimed as she strode towards the door and wiggled her shapely booty. "You get used to it."