The Little Tinkerbat that Could

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/47769337.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con
Category: F/M
Fandom: Shantae (Video Games)
Relationship: Shantae/Tinkerbat
Character: Shantae (Shantae), Risky Boots, Tinkerbats (Shantae)
Additional Tags: Non-Consensual Spanking, Action, Humor, Hair-pulling, Rivalry,
Humiliation, Verbal Humiliation, Ass Play
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2023-06-10 Words: 7,078 Chapters: 1/1

The Little Tinkerbat that Could

by Kaktus_nsfw

Summary

Risky Boots latest batch of tinkerbats produces a strange outlier, one that manages to think
for himself. Uncertain about this new, yet familiar world, he follows his creator's wishes as
he adjusts to a sudden existence. His work as a lackey sends him up against a half-genie that
underestimates just how unique he is, and unfortunately, upsets him in the process.

Notes

Bit of a sillier request fulfillment than usual, and sort of out of my realm of usual content,
but fun to write. Despite lacking my usual amount of explicit content, and being more niche
to one fetish, I do hope you'll enjoy it. Additionally, it's likely to receive another part in the
future with more character elaboration and more directly sexual scenes, but for now, a fun
standalone.

As always, criticize as harshly as you please, and thank you for reading.

It was a formless existence. Placid. Few thoughts bubbled within. Streaming, whirling, oozing.
There was some warmth. All was good. Then, something wobbled across the surface. Vibrating
sounds shook up the stream of inky black.

“Rise!” a voice cried out.

A chill wrapped around the blob, molding into a solid form. A newly shaped hand reached
outward, grabbing the lip of something firm, and yanking out into the exposed world. The black
creature flopped to a creaky, wooden floor. Others followed it, lazily squirming around until
bringing themselves upright.

What was all of this?

The creature blinked, examining its surroundings. His surroundings. He felt like a he. Somehow.
At that moment, he was in a cabin, and from the gentle sway, he could ascertain that it was on a
boat. While the cabin itself was nothing special, it was dotted with skulls, candles, hanging flasks
of liquids, tattered curtains, and various shiny trinkets and treasures. Gaudy. Whoever lived here
had some sort of grand sense of self, he figured.

Seeing no more reason to lie on the floor, the creature picked himself up, joining his compatriots.
Or, were they his compatriots? He held up a hand to one, noting their similar physique. And the
outfit? Same simple red garb. He urged muscles that weren’t there, finding he didn’t have a mouth.
It inspired a brief panic before he realized he wasn’t actually sure what he was. Some innate
knowledge was imparted on him, but anything personal was lacking.

A frantic wave imparted zero interest from his brethren. They seemed content to idly blink at one
another and shift in place. He tried a few more elaborate gestures. Nothing. He prodded at one. Bit
of a flinch, but otherwise, torpid. This was a strange existence to be sure.

The creature wandered over to the windows of the cabin, staring out at the bright blue sea. It
seemed endless. Was it? It felt like it might’ve been, but there must have been something else out
there if there was a boat here. And someone must’ve owned this boat. He glanced back, noting a
cauldron behind all of his mindless mates. That person must’ve made him, right? Then they likely
had a purpose to him. He touched a finger to where a mouth should have been. Only a shame he
couldn’t ask about it.

Just then, the cabin door swung open with a groan, and the newly formed creature rushed back to
his brothers. His gaze was kept forward. No telling what his creator had in mind for him, so it was
best to play it safe.

The assumed creator waltzed in. She was purple. Was that normal? A large hat bearing a skull sat
atop her head, making her wide, toothy grin all the more imposing. The rest of her garb was more
scanty, featuring another skull with tight fabric holding back her chest. Tight pants and a loose belt
covered her shame. The rest was all skin, save for those odd cuffs. If there was ever a leader, she
was certain to be it.

“At attention, men,” she said.

The creature felt a subtle urge to follow her commands, something in the back of his head making
his muscles twitch to every syllable. The other, more mindless drones instantly snapped to
attention. He followed in their image. Wouldn’t want to stand out now.

“That should be the last batch of you. Enough to watch the deck.” Her eyes scanned across them,
narrowing. “A little straighter.”

Their posture snapped up.

“Good. Maybe you’re the best batch yet.”

She paced back and forth in front of them, tapping them on the head with a finger as she passed
each one. Something was on her mind, likely some sort of plan. The mindful creature could only
wonder. Perhaps they were off to plunder treasure? Likely from people who wouldn’t exactly take
kind to that. His brow crinkled. Then, there was a chance he could get hurt, maybe expire. He was
cannon fodder, wasn’t he?

“Yes!” She stopped. “We have enough now! Take your arms and report to the deck, men!”

They all saluted and filed over to a pot with wimpy swords dumped inside. Oh, yes, he was cannon
fodder. He took a sword in-hand, feeling how light and flimsy it felt in his grasp. Likely wasn’t
even sharpened. None of his brothers even glanced at their arms, instead marching out onto the
deck as asked. So be it. If he could sigh, he would’ve.

The deck was at least a nicer experience. The sea air was fresh, and its salty smell was pleasant.
The bright blue sky stretched out before him, dotted with a few seagulls that soared over the boat.
More of his kind worked the boat, tending to cargo, sails, ropes, cannons, and whatever else their
leader had crammed aboard. His current group scattered about the deck, idly wandering about with
their swords raised. Not the worst job, he supposed.

The curious creature loosely followed the patrols, letting his mind wander for a while. This was a
strange existence to be sure. The worst of his new life was how lonely he was among the sea of
what were essentially clones. He was them, and they were him, but not a single spark of thought
seemed to buzz between them. Maybe that should’ve been a point of pride. He was unique. And
alone.

Never mind loneliness. Unique things had names, he knew that. A name to cement him as a
thinking creature, that’s what he needed. What unique thing could he be called? While the social
cue of names was there, he couldn’t pluck one from the void. Instead, as he marched, he looked at
all the objects on the boat, suddenly realizing he could also read written word. Life was full of
surprises.

A barrel caught his eye, with the word “Cooper” stamped along its side. Something else followed
it, but it had been scratched and washed away. That sounded like a name. Cooper. He imagined
saying it aloud. Sounded good, as far as he could tell. Strong name. Not that his kind seemed
particularly strong.

“Put more of your backs into it! The Queen of the Seven Seas won’t have this excuse of a crew
running her flagship!” the creator said, emerging from her cabin.

Something told Cooper that wasn’t her actual name, but in her mind, it might as well be. Though,
he just fashioned his own name, too.

“Draw the sails and pick up a wind! We set sail for Scuttle Town! I want to be careening over the
horizon and strike fear into the soul of every last simpleton there!”

Tall order. Cooper continued his trodding, waiting for any potential enemy. They’d come soon,
surely. What would they look like? Some heroic, armored man? Maybe another pirate. Just some
rogue adventurer. Though, Cooper had to recall that he’d be fighting this gallery of enemies. Or
heroes. Cooper’s “Queen” was a bit of a rude character, scaring people for monetary gain.

“You.”

Cooper’s thoughts and hobbling came to a stop. He turned around to see his creator towering over
him, unamused. Had he been found as the odd one out? Cooper stood at attention.

“Run a bath in the cabin. Warm. And use the bubbles. I want it to be particularly foamy by the
time I’m in there and I won’t accept anything else.” She put a finger to her chin. “And bring the
good wine. I want to be in best condition for this one.” There was a pause and she turned her head.
“Well? Get to it!”

Cooper mentally sighed and saluted. He scampered off back to the cabin, set down his sword, and
found the tub set not far from the cauldron he crawled out of. Not a normal tub, mind, since it
seemed to have an ornate chair jammed into it. Fitting. He positioned it over a grate with some
effort, which seemed to have coals below. There was the heat. Cooper added some fresh water,
found the bubbling chemical, and pulled out the wine.

As odd as it was, Cooper felt some pride in doing his job. He had to wonder if that was a personal
thing or a byproduct of his creation. Considering he couldn’t ask his fellow lackey, it was a moot
question. He shrugged and popped open the wine, pouring a glass. The red liquid swirled around,
glinting in candlelight. Appetizing, despite his lack of a mouth. He glanced back at the door, then
stuck the tip of his finger into the drink, quickly smearing a droplet across his face. Nope, that
didn’t work.

The cabin door slammed against the wall. Cooper scrambled and placed the glass down on a table
next to the tub and saluted. The Queen approached the tub, already undressing herself and sinking
into the foamy bath. She sighed, a small smile forming on her face.

“Another day to praise the name Risky Boots.” She kicked up some water. “Wonderful, isn’t it?”
Risky peered over the tub at Cooper. “Isn’t it?”

He nodded. Risky. Now that was a proper name for her.

“Now if only everyone in Scuttle Town saw it the same way as you do. I admit, I enjoy the
plundering aspect. Piracy has a charm that is unmatched. But, I do think it would be nice to have
them up and bow when I arrive at port.”

Cooper wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to do as a mindless goon in that moment, so he
merely let his eyes wander about. That did, of course, include his leader’s body. The purple tinge to
her skin was interesting, and under the glimmer of water, made her look almost otherworldly. Odd,
considering she should have been his model of normalcy.

The more Cooper stared, the more he realized there was a growing sense of something else in the
back of his head. Soapy water flowing over modest breasts, with bubbles sticking to bare nipples.
Long hair that clung to her body. Arousal, that was it. Risky was simply erotic. Maybe that was a
badge of pride for his kind, to have an attractive leader. Then again, he doubted the rest could even
comprehend such a concept. His little treat, then.

Risky reached out to the wine glass, finger running across the rim.

“Maybe when I’ve retired, I can move onto conquering. Not manage, mind you, just conquer. They
can squabble over themselves, just as long as they bow to me.” Risky looked to Cooper again. “Or
maybe I could turn them all into little tinkerbats like you.” She eased back into the water and took
a sip of wine. “Though, what is a kingdom of people if they can’t shrink and grovel to their
leader?”

Certainly, in the grand scheme of things, Cooper was an evil footman. He wasn’t entirely sure how
to deal with that realization, but it didn’t strike him harshly. That was his lot in life, he supposed.
Risky bothered to conjure him from a blackened ooze, so he owed her some level of service. His
eyes wandered to the ocean. Though, it was a shame the outside world seemed to provide so much
more. And “tinkerbat”? Not what he would’ve called his kind.
“Surprising. You did pick the right wine. Lucky guess, maybe,” Risky said.

A small spark of joy lit in Cooper’s mind.

“Maybe the next batch of replacements will be just as lucky.”

And it was smothered again.

The rest of the bath was a languid one. Hard to judge the passage of time here, but it had to have
been more than a handful of minutes. At least he wasn’t being sent out to battle, so there was that.
Risky finished off her wine and stood up, allowing a full frontal view down to her unmentionables.
She braced a foot on the edge of the tub and raised a fist.

“This will be our best haul yet! Make no mistake I will crush them for every single scrap of value
they have!”

There was an infectious excitement to her words, though Cooper was more worried she might slip
and slam onto the ground in that moment.

“Towel.” Risky snapped her fingers, still staring ahead in her triumphant pose. “Towel!”

Cooper rushed off to grab an embroidered towel and handed it to Risky. She dried herself off and
stepped out, wrapping the thing up in her hair. Awfully casual, but considering her mindless crew,
shame was probably farthest from her thoughts. Another little blessing of his consciousness, he
supposed.

“Another glass. I’ll need the mental fortitude to deal with the goody-two-shoes,” Risky said.

Seeing as how Risky was clearly the villain in this scenario, Cooper assumed she must’ve been
referring to a rival of sorts. He obliged her drinking, expertly pouring out another round of wine for
her. Risky snatched it from his hand as he presented it, and headed on to a dresser. Cooper peered
inside as Risky yanked a drawer open, finding everything within was just a repeat of her earlier
outfit. Cooper furrowed his brow.

“Frankly, it’s astounding these still look so good.” She took another swig.

If you say so, Cooper wanted to reply.

Risky set about dressing up, wiggling her butt into her pants, slipping on her seemingly useless belt
and cuffs, and snapping on that amusing skull-visage to her chest. Rather than the large pirate hat
from before, she put on a bandanna, giving her a slightly more modest look. She shoved the glass
back into his hands.

“Here, toss this one overboard. I expect to be drinking from something far greater today. Then join
the rest and check the cannons. Move.”

Cooper obeyed, rushing out of the room and out onto the deck. He flung the glass overboard,
quietly apologized to the ocean, and looked about for the cannons. There they were, lining the edge
of the ship. His kin had already begun work, shifting around cannon balls and powder. Despite
being relatively mindless, it did seem as though they worked near effortlessly in union. Cooper
approached. A few of his fellow tinkerbats looked to him, but otherwise returned to their work.

Not wanting to disappoint his master now, Cooper set about checking each cannon. The others
paused briefly as he wormed around, as if they knew what he was doing, continuing only once he
finished with his check. Did they know what he was thinking? Cooper stared hard at another
tinkerbat as it loaded a ball, trying to direct his thoughts. No reaction. He mentally sighed, realizing
how dumb he must’ve looked. No dumber than them, he supposed.

Having checked the modest amount of artillery, Cooper resigned to merely watching his kind work.
It was odd. No communication, no free thought, but they cleanly meshed together in a cogwork of
productivity. For the most part, since their wiry frames didn’t permit them to move objects as easily
as they wanted. It was almost disheartening to think he wouldn’t be able to join that, even if his
train of thought was unique among that. In essence, he was a misplaced creature.

Risky herself was a thinking creature, but it wasn’t wise that Cooper should try and relate to that.
His eyes scanned the horizon, looking for that place she spoke of earlier. Scuttle Town. Maybe
there were more creatures like him there? Of course, meeting them would mean some sort of
abandonment of his post. Not that he had the most amazing work of his… what, two hours of
existence? Who knew how long that would last, either, being a simple minion to be tossed at
threats.

“Full speed to Scuttle Town! Be prepared, men, this will be our greatest haul of booty yet!” Risky
shouted from the helm.

While not verbally excited, Risky’s goofy words did seem to inspire the other tinkerbats to work
faster. The sails went to full mast and the ship lurched forward. Cooper resigned to checking on the
rest of the crew in a patrol, seeming vaguely busy in the process, or so he hoped. Most of his focus
was on the ocean. Distant shapes and islands slunk on by, inspiring the imagination of what could
be out there. Then again, it was likely his own master had been out there and stolen everything. He
chuckled to himself. Then maybe he could have a bit of everything here.

Cooper continued to idly wander, occasionally practicing his stabbing with another rinky-dink
sword. He wondered if he’d have the misfortune to run into the accursed “goody-two-shoes”. If
Risky hated them, then they hated Risky, and that also likely meant they hated tinkerbats, too.
Odds were, someone was going to get hurt. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. Didn’t seem as though
there were any other creatures among the crew, meaning said rival might only be familiar with
fighting tinkerbats. But Cooper wasn’t just any regular tinkerbat, giving him an edge of surprise.
Assumedly. If he didn’t freeze in the heat of battle.

Soon enough, the target of Risky’s latest haul, Scuttle Town, came into view. It looked appealing
from this distance, though didn’t seem like it would contain much, being a modest fishing town
from what Cooper could see. He looked over to Risky, who was sneering at the town through a
telescope. Something told him this was a tad more personal than simply looking for “booty”.

Risky marched down onto the deck and snagged Cooper as she passed by. She shoved him next to
a cannon. Her hands settled on his head, crooking it to look over the barrel.

“See that dreadful little hovel on the horizon?” she asked. There was a glee in her voice, dripping
with malice. “Slam a shot right through it!” Risky slapped Cooper on the back, which likely
would’ve knocked the air out of him if he had a mouth for it. “Right through the door!”

A peaceful little hut of a home sat on the far edge of the town. Seemed a bit of a shame to blow it
up, but Cooper had no recourse. He checked the cannon, readied the powder, and inserted the wick.
Lining up a shot had also, fortunately, come innately to him. Still, a bit tricky with a moving target.
Here goes. The fuse lit and Cooper winced. Boom! The loud bang pulsed through his body, nearly
causing him to collapse. Risky stood at attention, eyes widening as a toothy grin burst onto her
face. Why’d she have to be his creator of all people?

The cannon ball pierced the air with a shrill whine, dying down as it neared its target. A distant
boom and a plume of debris confirmed it made contact. Through the door, too. Cooper straightened
out, eyes nearly bugging out of his head. Impressive! Violent, but impressive! He looked to Risky
expectantly.

“And stay down, you sickening hero!” Risky yelled. She raised a foot and placed it against the
cannon. “Maybe I should fire another.”

Of course, no credit for him. Oh well, Cooper still relished in his shot.

“No, no. If she manages to crawl out of that one, I’d rather see her up close.” She whipped back
around. “Pull into port and begin your fight, men! But don’t you dare leave the ship unguarded!”

More cannons sounded off in agreement. This hardly felt like plundering, more like an invasion.
Risky retreated back to the helm, happily grinning to herself. Cooper, not wanting to exactly wildly
plunder, decided to follow his earlier guard route. He watched as other tinkerbats scampered off
the side of the boat as they pulled into port. Not a single one showed a shred of fear or hesitation.
A simple mind had some benefits, he had to admit.

The town’s retaliation was delayed, and the more Cooper observed, he realized that they didn’t
have one. Terrified yells and screams echoed out among the hail of cannon blasts. Smoke began to
flitter from some of the buildings, and soon, some spouts of fire. His brethren were now distant
black blobs rounding up people, smashing just about everything, and gathering whatever they
could get their hands on.

Through all the chaos, Cooper wondered why Risky didn’t simply subjugate the area. That was,
until, another speck stood on the horizon.

“Fire! Fire! Fire!” Risky yelled, slamming her fist repeatedly against a railing.

More explosions and debris.

“At the genie, you idiots!”

The tinkerbats looked to the city properly now, focusing on the bright purple haired girl striding
forward. There was the rival, just as poorly dressed as Risky was. Red pants, pointed shoes,
bangles, and a simple top to barely hide her chest. Strangely, she had no weapon. Martial arts?
Cooper’s answer was quickly given, as she rocked her head forward to whip at a tinkerbat with her
hair. His compatriot flew backward to the ground, disappearing in a puff of smoke. He shook his
head vigorously. Just like that?!

The rest of the tinkerbats in the town turned their attention to the genie, awkwardly stalking her
with a simple gait and jabs. Despite their penchant for working in groups, they had zero planning
when it came to combat. A few simply threw things at her before being swiftly dealt with. It’s not
like she was trying all that hard, either. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying herself, with her stupid
dance-walk and excited jumps. Cannon fire rained down around her, and she couldn’t care less.

Each passing moment only filled Cooper with a bubbling rage. He gripped his sword tightly and
stared the genie down as she made her way through the city, mopping up tinkerbat after tinkerbat.
Risky hadn’t said anything just yet, still eyeing her rival. Do something, he wanted to yell, but his
master remained silent. Was this whole thing just a dumb charade?

As much as Cooper wanted to jump down there, he was one of the few actually remaining guard on
the boat. That forced him to stew in anger as he marched around. Maybe this whole consciousness
thing was a curse. What does something like him really need with unique thoughts? No one could
appreciate them, and he certainly didn’t now. His eyes narrowed as the genie approached the
docks. She would be forced to appreciate them.

“Shantae!” Risky yelled. “I hope you enjoyed the housewarming gift!”

The genie, assumedly Shantae, stopped in her tracks. “Haven’t you had enough of being beaten,
yet, Risky?” she yelled back.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I always love to see the look on your face when I crush your town! Only a
matter of time before Sequin Land is mine, too. Queen of the seven seas and all of the land!”

“Where’s the big captain’s hat? Got a little too small for your head, huh?”

Cooper looked between them. Did they really have to yell from this distance? Just attack her!
Shantae’s voice began to wear on his ears. Risky’s expression soured, adjusting the bandanna she
had on. Shantae’s wide grin only got bigger. For all his master’s faults, Cooper entirely understood
why she might want to strangle Shantae.

A few more tinkerbat guards were dispatched by Shantae, and she hopped up and onto the ship.
Cooper’s heart began to race. Here it was, what he was made for, fighting off his creator’s foes.
Shantae casually surveyed the area as she nodded along to a constant beat.

“Maybe you should give your guys a mop to clean—”

Cooper picked up a spare sword and flung it at her. Shantae ducked out of the way. So she did
know when to shut up. Before she could approach, another tinkerbat came up from behind and
jabbed at her back. Cooper raised a fist. A flick of the hair and a huff from Shantae ended that little
moment of jubilation. The rest manning the cannons fell to a similar fate.

“As usual, I have to do everything myself,” Risky said. She hopped over the railing onto the deck.

“How many tinkerbats have you made? This can’t be a good investment,” Shantae replied.

“Seemed to do a number on your squalid harbor.”

Shantae ran at her, only for Risky to slip into the cabin, door locking behind her.

“Finally running? I’ll just break your stuff out here!”

Risky didn’t reply, but Cooper knew she had to have something cooking up. Shantae swung right
back around, cocky smile returning. Attention was back on him. Alright. He could beat her. He
could do this. He wanted to do this. For him and what little scraps of family he had in this new and
bizarre world.

Shantae ran right at him. Cooper held steady. The instant her head swung back, he rolled right and
struck at her side, sending her stumbling aside. A look of confusion broke across her face.
Cooper’s mind beamed. He raised his sword, shaking it from side to side. Best not to get too
excited. He may have been smarter, but nothing he experienced implied he was any stronger than
the other tinkerbats. Still, it felt good.

Confusion was replaced with determination. Shantae repeated the simple attack again, and again
found herself stumbling aside from a similar blow. She continued to underestimate him. Good.
They began to circle around one another now, trading glances. The bounciness in her step lessened,
and her expression hardened into annoyance. She blew aside a strand of hair.
Cooper couldn’t help but look at where another of his kind fell. A puddle of inky black stuck to the
deck. Were they gone forever? Could that raw material bring them back? Could it even be done
with him? Whatever unique process drew him forth could have been completely lost on a second
attempt. He really would just die. Then, he couldn’t lose.

Another whip of hair. Cooper narrowly sidestepped it. Shantae grunted and swung her ponytail
again, shifting her attack into a low sweep. A panicked hop pulled Cooper out of harms way. His
eyes locked onto her and he brought another blow down on her as he came back down. There was a
small shake to his movements he tried to suppress. Fear was, out of all these new experiences, the
worst.

“You’re suppose to poof already!” Shantae said, massaging her head. “What kind of weird little
monster are you?!”

A shame the barrel he took his name from wasn’t here. Cooper merely raised his sword again.
Shantae answered with a flurry of more whips. It had become easier and easier to dodge each
successive blow. As deadly as her hair might have been, its narrow range and bright coloration
made it simple to predict. Though, each dodge also pushed him back up against a barrel. Shantae
leapt up and over him onto the thing. She swung her head back. Cooper slammed up against the
barrel, sending it rolling over and Shantae tumbling to the ground with a yelp.

The barrel smashed into the cabin wall, just as Risky burst through the door again, armed with
several flintlocks strapped to her body. She raised a pistol, cocking it.

“Now you’ll—” Risky started. Her brow furrowed and her head twisted in confusion.

Cooper paid her no mind, instead leaping forward to attack a prone Shantae. She rolled aside and
bounced back into a standing position. Sluggishness caught on her movements now, and heavier
breathing caused her chest to rise and fall. Cooper felt perfectly fine. He jabbed at the air and took
a few steps forward. How was this one a rival? All she knew how to do was flick her hair forward.

As if to answer him, Shantae rushed forward again with another whip, but when he dodged, she
grunted and tried to strike out with a kick. Her whole balance was thrown off, easily allowing
Cooper to simply shove her aside into another crate. That must’ve been the first time she had ever
tried such a thing. Desperation, excellent.

“Just disappear!” Shantae shoved off the box and leapt into the air at Cooper. He ran forward,
managing to slide across the deck just as her hair jabbed at where he was. The tinkerbat spun
around and grabbed at her ponytail as it fell back into place, yanking her backward. He
miscalculated just how heavy she was. Her butt rammed against his hips, bringing them both down
with her landing on his lap. He wasn’t about to let this go, he had her now. Cooper wrapped her
hair around his hand, keeping her in place. Shantae struggled against him, but surprisingly failed to
break free.

“Let me go, you little runt!” she said.

No. Cooper looked to the city. No, in fact, I will not. She deserved something for all the whipping
she did, the tinkerbats she took care of, and the humiliation of his creator. Cooper felt Shantae’s
plump rear wiggle up against him. Arousal resurfaced. She deserved a whipping of her own. The
tinkerbat’s free hand grabbed at the band of her pants and let it snap back into place. Shantae
gasped and struggled more. Perfect.

With a firm shove, Shantae was pushed onto her knees, ass up. Cooper yanked her pants down,
revealing her tan, fat rear. Despite all the vigorous movement, it was clear it wasn’t enough. He
placed a hand on her, feeling the heft in her ass with a gentle shake.

“What are you—”

Smack!

Shantae was silenced with a firm slap to the ass, making it jiggle. She gasped, body flinching and
freezing in place. Combat made sweat cling to her body, adding a noticeable reflective glint to her
rear. He grabbed at her again, now sinking his fingers into her flesh. It was impressive just how far
in each digit sunk into her. Shantae squirmed again, letting out an uncomfortable whine. Another
smack came, and he pulled on her hair. She fell silent, save for the heavy breathing that seemed to
increase every moment.

Cooper thought back to Risky’s earlier display of nudity. The difference was staggering. Risky’s
more lithe form was a clean opposite to Shantae’s full hips and well-rounded ass. Cooper quietly
chuckled to himself. They were rivals in far more ways than one. He couldn’t see the genie’s
breasts from this angle, but he was certain Risky at least had the heavier chest of the two, so his
master wasn’t entirely beaten in a fight of rounded forms.

Amusement settled, and Cooper returned to punishment. He couldn’t be sure of every tinkerbat that
she felled, but it was more than a handful. His wound his hand back and came down upon her,
loudly slapping her ass. Shantae flinched and let out a low sob. He didn’t halt there, coming down
upon her again, and again, and again. She seemed to almost relax into the assault, as if finally
giving into her defeat. The thought almost bothered Cooper. He struck harder, causing her to leap
right back up again. Good.

A steady rhythm of smacking came from Cooper’s frustrations. Shantae was a mess of girly moans
and stressed grunts. He pulled on her hair occasionally, bringing out a rising whine from her to mix
into her whimpering. No, that wasn’t enough. He yanked harder, twisting her head slightly to see
the embarrassment and defeat on her face. The brash expression from earlier was nowhere to be
found. Instead, there was a sad girl that flinched and winced with every smack he imparted on her.

“Where’s the gusto? Weren’t you so proud of yourself moments ago?” Risky said. She laughed.

Shantae’s face took on a touch of anger. “I don’t know what you did to this little creep— Mmf! But
I’m going to sink your whole ship when I’m free! Ah!” She hissed.

“Really? I would absolutely love to see you try. To think, out of all the wonderful schemes, you
fall for my most modest minion.”

“Shut up!”

“You don’t dare speak to your superior like that, half-hearted hero.”

Cooper agreed, seizing her head again. Shantae feebly reached back, but another shove dissuaded
her.

Red marks slowly simmered to the surface of her tan skin on one cheek. Then the other one needed
more. Cooper’s hands switched roles, allowing him to better assault the other side of her fat ass.
More, and more, and more. How dare she do any of this to his kind? With each step of the way
treating it like a casual game. Invading the one place he called home. It came to a point where he
merely struck her as fast as possible, watching her shake with each blow.

Cooper made sure each smack was harder than the last. Shantae’s whimpering groans delved into
yelps and cries.
“Stop it!” she yelled, another feeble wriggle of her body came with.

Her words fell on deaf ears. Cooper’s hand continued to work away. Anger and delight pushed him
on. She was hardly a rival to hate anymore, just a thing to abuse for getting in the way. Some lump
of an ass to vent frustrations on. Hard to believe she could be the cause of anything more than a
mild nuisance. This ridiculous genie creature.

“I’m sorry! I’m really, really sorry!” Shantae’s wriggling increased. She wanted to get away but her
body failed to do so. Her head crooked toward Risky. “Please! Just—” Another smack made her
shudder, words drooling into a groan. “Just get it off of me!”

Risky loudly laughed. “There it is! Our proud hero finally asking for mercy.”

“Stop with the stupid villain talk and let me go!” Her voice pitched up with every spank. She may
have been growing used to the abuse but couldn’t escape its grasp.

“Hmph. Well, he seems to be enjoying himself, why should I stop his fun? It’s a good show, too.”

“Risky!”

“Maybe you should ask him. Go on, stoop to his level. Let him know how he beat you.”

Shantae groaned, letting out a few heavy breaths. A halting sob came from her, and then she
sighed.

“You won! You beat me!” Shantae said.

“The tinkerbat did, you mean. Do be specific,” Risky replied.

“Yes— Ah! The tinkerbat!” A particularly loud smack made her hips push forward. “The tinkerbat
beat me! You beat me!” She vainly tried to look back at him.

Those words rattled around in Cooper’s head, finally settling on a conscious thought. He had won,
hadn’t he? A smile would’ve broken across his face. His smacking slowed to a stop, settling his
palm on the warm cheek. Shantae let out a sigh, catching her breath with rapid breaths.

Despite the lack of a mouth, Cooper could feel his whole body heaving. He looked at his
handiwork, a reddened rear and a battered genie. She had learned something from this whole
ordeal, surely. One more little thing wouldn’t hurt, though. He flicked her ass with a finger one last
time and let her go.

Cooper stumbled to his feet, internalizing how Risky had watched the entirety of what had just
happened. Her face was awash with a mix of delight, bewilderment, and amusement. He froze.
Shantae was up not longer after, wincing and hissing as she stood.

“You!” Shantae said, pointing a finger at Cooper. “I’ll—!” She huffed. “I’m going to—!”

Shantae let out an odd, grunting yell, and wriggled back into her pants. Cooper took a step toward
her. She took a few steps back to the edge of the boat with widened eyes.

“Now, I think you’ve overstayed your welcome on my fine ship,” Risky said.

Risky fired at Shantae, the bullet blew through a nearby crate. The genie flinched all the same,
losing her balance and careening off the side. There was a thump followed by a series of panicked
footsteps.
Now that left Cooper and Risky staring at one another. He blinked, picked up his sword, and
saluted. That was all he could think of to do in that moment. Risky tilted her head. She tossed her
pistols back inside the cabin and approached him, leaning over him. This was it.

“Something very different about you, isn’t there?” Risky asked. Her eyes shifted to the city, then
back to him. “Now, I’m quite proud of my little tinkerbats, but it’s clear they aren’t always the most
skilled fighters. You, though.” She plucked the sword from Cooper’s hand, running a thumb across
its side. “You have something different. An odd one out of my precious pack.”

Cooper straightened out his posture more, straining his salute. Act natural! He unwittingly blinked
several times, eyes struggling to focus on her.

“Return back to the boat, men!” Risky yelled. “And we’ll be having a nice chat, you and I,” she
whispered. She tossed aside the sword and ushered him onward into the cabin.

Cooper moved stiffly. At the very least, it was somewhat fitting to have his end in where he began,
right? The poetry of it all did little to assuage his fears. They crossed the threshold, the door
closing behind them. Risky left his side to dig about in her many treasures. So, then, he was being
remade? Banished to another realm? Turned into something worse? She pulled free a dusty tome
and riffled through it.

“Here we are. I had always wondered why this even existed, and now I see,” she said. Risky
mumbled something else. She walked back to Cooper with a pointed finger. He flinched as it
graced his face, trailing along the lower portion of it.

Something gave way in his head. Skin relaxed. There was a small pop. Cooper placed a hand over
the sensation, noting a new opening. He opened a new mouth.

“Say something to your queen. Surely you have something else rattling about in your noggin of
yours,” Risky said.

“Thank you?” Cooper replied. Perhaps not as deep as he imagined, but it fell mostly in-line with
how he heard himself think.

“So you are smart. Polite, too. I’m charmed.”

Cooper continued to feel up his mouth. “I can speak.” He enjoyed every syllable traveling across
his tongue. “I really can.” He let out a short chuckle, then a longer laugh.

Risky raised an eyebrow, and Cooper immediately shut his mouth again with a swallow. Oh, he
could do that, too? She eyed the cauldron from earlier.

“Now, what has set you apart from all the others, I wonder?” she asked.

“I… don’t know.”

“Is that really it, you don’t know? Nothing smacked you across the head?”

“No.”

Risky’s air of intimidation felt all the more pressing on Cooper in this smaller space. There was no
escape from her crimson eyes bearing down upon her. Destroying him would probably be as easy
as a snap of the fingers.

“Strange, I thought you might’ve been the one I hit. Hm. Then what have you been doing this
entire time?”

“As your majesty requested. I guarded, I fired the cannon at the hovel, and I set your bath, as
well.”

“Majesty.” Risky chuckled, then she tilted her head. “You were the one who managed that shot?”

“Yes, ma’am. Clean through the doorway, as requested. Expertly, even.”

“And you were the one to watch me bathe.”

Cooper paused on that point. A new sensation hit him. Embarrassment, that was it. He did not like
embarrassment. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, it was eked out by fear again.

“Yes,” he replied.

“We’ll set that aside for now. Consider it my little gift to you.”

“Thank you.” No, wait, he shouldn’t have said that.

“And the others? Any more like you?”

“None.”

“You wouldn’t perhaps be trying to hide them away from me, would you?”

Cooper froze at that allegation. Risky took a step forward.

“Would you?” she said.

There was nothing to hide. He sighed. That motion came far more naturally than he thought.

“No, ma’am. The rest of them…” No, don’t other them. “The other tinkerbats didn’t react to
anything I tried. They move efficiently but they don’t answer to anything except you. I don’t know
why I’m the odd one out. Luck or curse, I’m the only one who seems to have any sort of thought.”

“So, you were the only one hiding in plain sight, is that it?”

“Yes.”

“And do tell why.”

“It seemed… hardly appropriate for my kind to think. I had figured, or rather assumed, that we
were intentionally made to act so simply.” He shrugged. “I risked death if I was a failed minion.”

“Indeed, indeed you did. And perhaps I like my minions to follow every little word to the letter.”
Risky’s eyes briefly narrowed. “But, to have one work so effortlessly, and on the genie, too!” She
laughed. “That is a treat.”

Some fear unwound from Cooper’s nerves. Serving well meant he could enjoy life for a little
longer. Couldn’t ask for a better gift, right?

“Will the others be retrieved? Those that fell in battle?” he asked.

“They’ll be scraped off the ground, returned to the ooze.”

Scraped didn’t settle well with him. Nor did she really elaborate on what that meant for them. But
it was all he could ask for at that point.

“Perhaps I’ll get another precious one like you,” she said.

“Perhaps.”

“I must say, you gave the harlot hero quite the beating. I might have called it light, but you seemed
to have enjoyed yourself quite a bit.”

“I figured it was fitting.” Cooper averted his gaze to the ground. “She had it coming, I feel.
Humiliation, that is.” He furrowed his brow angrily. “She’s a gaudy buffoon, really.”

“More than you realize! She’ll be thinking twice when tussling with the pirate queen. Especially
when she sees my special tinkerbat by my side.”

“Tinkerbat.” He nodded. That was him. “Right, yes. Thank you.” Not Cooper. He may have been a
special case, but remained on that lowly level to his creator.

“I would almost ask for you to give chase, but I have treasure to assess, and I want to be there the
next time you crush her spirit.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’d say your work is cause for a gift, even. Charitable, I know. Give a request to your modest
queen, make it quick.”

“I don’t suppose I could have a drink?”

“Hm. Certainly. Come pick out a cheaper bottle from my new hoard.”

“Thank you, queen.”

“Not a problem.” She smiled. “I know you’ll return its value tenfold.”

Perhaps life wasn’t so worrisome.

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