The moment she took off her helmet, and revealed a lovely head of long, silky blonde hair, the decision was made. A few more entrants came out after her, wearing their power suits, one in a zero suit with big tits who looked far too sure of herself. Nothing that could compare.
When the winner of the competition was announced, there were murmurs in the crowd, and later among the contestants, about the youngest entrant's costume. Wasn't it just a bodysuit her parents had probably bought her off some online store? Had she only won as a pity thing, because of her age? Or maybe the guy judging the competition was into little girls?
Nevertheless, the pretty young thing with the innocent, nervous smile and big green eyes was led off to receive her prize, a monetary award and a free photoshoot. She was never seen again.
Samus didn't scream. That was the mental fortitude of the character he adored, so brave even in the face of such peril! She thrashed her restrained arms, fighting against the bindings that held her fixed to the examination table again and again, but of course the skinny limbs of a little girl in a lycra suit stood no chance against rings of cold, thick metal. She stared at him in terror, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to fuck her, here and now.
This was his life's work, though. Samus wasn't supposed to be so terrified of some nerdy human guy, but he would soon give her something better to be afraid of...
The boxcutter in his hand easily tore away her skintight costume, slicing away a chunk of it at her chest to reveal her tiny breasts, heaving up and down with her terrified breaths. She whimpered, pleaded with him to be let go, but still didn't scream.
He rewarded her pretty mouth with a hungry kiss, his big, bulbous lips all over her. Then the girl tried to scream, but couldn't, and her muffled attempts made sweet sounds that he wished they'd put in some of the games. Truly incredible things could be done, even with the Super Nintendo's limitations...
Stiff as anything, he cut away a small oval of powersuit-printed lycra at the girl's crotch. Samus' pussy was just as he had always imagined, as all of the best fanart of her had told him it would be. Pink and puffy and perfectly bare. If the table had been set up in a more convenient position, he'd absolutely have been pushing himself inside her after all. Instead, he satisfied himself with a few quick gropes of her chubby outer lips, then retreated back to his observation room.
Everything was prepared, ready to go, awaiting just a few calls from the command line. His fat fingers danced over the keys of his keyboard, and with his first press of the Enter key, on came the Lower Norfair music from Super Metroid. It was playing in Samus' room too, and with the second Enter press, the cool, clinical white glow of the rooftop lights in her room switched for a dimmed, hellish red. The heating had been adjusted as part of the same command, the temperature in the room starting a rapid increase. Samus hadn't worn her Varia suit, and what a mistake it was not to come prepared...
There was not a moment of boredom in watching the young girl as the heat of the room, already almost at its target of 318 Kelvins, took its toll. She very quickly worked up quite the sweat while thrashing around in her bondage, perspiration left glistening on her pretty face, her flat chest, everywhere her soft skin was exposed. He could see it all from the observation room, expensive binoculars soon lifted to his eyes to drink in every detail of the fearful grimace on her delicate features, and the rise and fall of her budding chest with every panted breath. Those perfectly pink little nipples of hers needed an alien sucker on them. Or at least his mouth.
Eventually, Samus' thrashing ceased, her body going limp as heat exhaustion set in. If not for her visible breathing, and the occasional dance of her silken gold hair with every uncomfortable toss of her head, he might have worried she had passed out. Better to advance right along to the next phase, then.
When the next command he entered released her from her restraints, Samus showed him she had some energy left in her reserve tank. As soon as the observation table's near-vertical angle dumped the small blonde onto the ground, she rose up onto shaky feet, looking around for any sign of an exit. Not finding one, she ran over and began banging with her cardboard gun-arm on the glass — a mirror for her — that he was sitting behind. Too bad. Power bomb locked.
Still, he had to admire Samus' spirit and bravery, just as much as he admired the bodysuited, underdeveloped form of a girl he figured was probably coming up on her first year of middle school. He had his cock in his hand within moments, jerking himself off to her sweaty fear. When he typed his next command, he did so much more slowly, and with only one hand.
It was time for her real test to begin.
The music changed, the speakers now playing the theme for the later-game boss fights. Samus looked around behind her with wide eyes, but nothing had changed just yet. It took a good fifteen seconds after he'd terminated the sedatives' slow-feed administration protocol for the creature, his treasured creation, to awake. Even from inside its sealed chamber, its loud, piercing shriek was audible.
Now Samus screamed, and he nearly blew his load right there.
A panel up near the ceiling in one of the walls slid open, and from it emerged his finest creation. His Ridley. Thousands of experiments, and thousands of thousands of dollars, had all culminated in the dragon-like creature that took to the air, body covered in chitinous protective plating. A red-tinged bronze in colour, to match the best game in the series. He'd managed to capture the sleekness of Ridley's body quite well, the form almost skeletal. Wicked claws and a spine-tipped tail. Massive bat wings, as the closest functional thing he could figure out how to get to those of a dragon. A beak-like jaw lined with vicious teeth, but without the ability to breathe fire. He'd not bothered to try to chase that aspect from the game.
Instead, his extra efforts had gone towards the thick, blood-red penis that stood jutting forwards from Ridley's body. An ugly thing, marked with bulb-like inconsistencies in girth, and splotchy white inconsistencies in pigmentation. Misshapen, and yet a proud monument to the complex beauties of morphogenesis. All the testosterone that had replaced the sedatives had obviously taken its intended effect, the thing heaving with every slow, powerful pump of Ridley's heart, overdosed on arousal.
He could feel his own rapid heartbeat as he eagerly squeezed himself. Finally, finally, this was happening.
Samus stumbled backwards, her little hands raised up in front of her, screaming her pretty head off. As Ridley swooped in towards her, her legs gave out, and she collapsed onto her petite, lycra-covered bottom. It all happened in a flash. Ridley descended upon her, the little girl's shrieks intensifying as she was easily seized by a tight, clawed grip, their sharp points pricking into her flesh as the creature's wings beat loudly to lift them both back up into the air.
Just like with the test dummy, but the real thing was so very much better.
He typed another hasty command, and now together with the frantically-paced and odd-metred music, there played the sound of Samus taking damage at regular intervals. Then he rushed over to the glass, feeling the severe heat of the room radiate through it as he looked up to where Ridley hovered in the air, prize in grip, hips already bucking. He raised up his binoculars again, although hopefully his cameras were getting all of this too.
The red lighting made some of the details hard to see, but he could see enough. The atmosphere provided only bolstered the experience of watching Samus fall to Ridley in the way he'd always hoped to see. The space pirate held the girl against his armoured chest with the press of one clawed hand to her upper back, the rest of her slender form left mostly to dangle in the air. His tail had wrapped around one of her legs, helping yank it apart from the other, and angle her lower half as required. Sweat dripped from the girl, and a darker fluid ran down one of her white thighs. Ridley was inside her, knobby cock taking her with deep, slow thrusts, pushing her bare folds apart to an obscene degree.
The girl's desperate shrieks eventually reduced to pained squeals. She was younger than he had intended to snatch, surely suffering incredibly. The thought only left him wilder. Samus' femininity, her weakness, so tight and warm and pure, being made to strain around her rival's thick alien cock...
His hot cum splattered against the hotter window, much too quickly. It was a big load, multiple good thick streaks and plenty more dribbling from him to the floor.
A minute later, Ridley came. He was already familiar with how the creature's pteranodon-like cries would change at the moment of orgasm. He couldn't have expected hearing it in Samus too, though, surprise and dismay joining the agony and shame in her sweet sounds as she was pumped full of the thick, scalding cum of a denizen of Norfair. He had to grab himself again, pumping his cock even as it continued to soften.
The encounter was far from done. Just one single nucleotide polymorphism had turned out to be all it took to boost his makeshift Ridley's sexual stamina immensely, a mutation he'd made sure was retained for this final variant. The short loop of boss music played again and again, as jagged and incessant as the cervix-deep drives of that grotesque cock. Ridley orgasmed in her several more times, and it was the creature's wings, and not his cock, that first began to tire. Samus was lowered back down, then dropped the rest of the way to the observation room floor. She lay there sprawled out face down, all screamed and sobbed out, only panting now but doing so with such harshness that it was visible. Her flimsy costume was torn up, scratches in her skin and her lovely blonde hair a sweaty mess.
Ridley descended moments after dropping her, perching behind her little hips and seizing them in clawed grip, lifting them up to show just how much slimy alien sperm had poured from her violated pussy to puddle beneath her. The space pirate was soon inside her again, the girl whimpering anew. This position provided the man an even better view than before, good enough to eventually empty himself onto the window a second time. Yet still, Samus' ordeal continued on much longer.
It did eventually end, and when it did, he was as satisfied as Ridley must have been. He hardly could have asked for a better show, watching the creature pull its cum-covered cock from the girl and rear up, wings spread and mouth pointed toward the ceiling to release a noisy cry of triumph.
Then all hell broke loose.
Perhaps he had been too greedy with the dosage of testosterone, or perhaps it was that he hadn't let any of his tests drag on as long as his best Ridley had taken to be sated with his pretty little Samus. Whatever it was, Ridley went wild. The creature took to the air once more, bashing hard into the reinforced ceiling. He swooped back downwards with surprising grace, crashing into the one-way observation mirror and sending cracks splintering through it. Noticing the weakness, Ridley's sharp tail began jabbing repeatedly at the moment of impact, further weakening the glass between them.
The man let out a sound just as terrified, just as pathetic as the girl's had been. He nearly tripped as he hurriedly stumbled back to the computer, frantically entering the command to chill the room and hence slow Ridley to a stop. The glass wasn't going to hold long enough, though. Pudgy fingers fumbled at the keys, stretching up to backspace more than once as his frantic haste caused errors in his typing. He wondered if he would die here.
Then he hit the enter key, and with a loud hiss, a colourless and odourless gas rushed into the room through nozzles positioned in the floor. Thankfully, it was almost immediate. Repression of its kill gene was turned off, and Ridley fell onto the floor, claws scrabbling at tough hide as his body underwent mass-apoptosis.
It was a shame. Even after perfecting his Ridley template, the number of variants he had gone through to find fully viable individuals was immense. An incredible rate of mutation had been required to even get to this point, and that meant frequent genetic errors. He wasn't sure he'd ever find another Ridley as fine as the one that now lay twitching on the floor of his encounter room.
That still left him with one prize, though, similarly shuddering on the floor of the now near-freezing chamber. He still had his Samus.