The Inter-Dimensional Courtship of Bowser Koopa

The Inter-Dimensional Courtship of Bowser Koopa

By: PepperedJack

Distribution: Please do not copy and distribute my work without my consent! Email me to ask.


Chapter One:
Sweet Dreams


Princess Peach parted her lipstick covered lips, the color of pink bubblegum, just enough to allow a peek at her perfect white teeth. Her arms angled to cover her bosom, hands balled up under her chin in a demure statement of amusement. She wore frilly, genteel garments—a picture book princess. From the chaste white gloves that covered her forearms just beyond the elbow, to the signature pink dress, hers was a delicate figure, concealed by layers of clothing and expectations of class, exclusive territory of the imagination. Tonight he would see it all.

The King of Koopas gulped more wine from his favorite chalice and with a swift nod barked a command to the woman waiting before him. “Take it off.”

Wearing a constant grin, the toadstool princess began to sway back and forth like a trail of smoke from a snuffed candle, bringing her entire body into the act. Every movement was soft and calculated. As her hips and upper body wavered in opposite directions she slipped the gloves from her arms, taking her time so as to imbue the gestures with ritual. With a dainty flick of her wrist one glove fluttering into the King’s lap. Holding it to his face, Bowser could see the ornate weaving of it, forming baroque flourishes amongst the white threads. Running it over his snout slowly, the scent of her perfume became his breath. It smelled of sweet fruits, of fine foods served fresh on trays of silver, and of the pine trees that grew in her gardens.

He looked up from his object of adoration just in time to see her bend over to remove her fire red pumps. “Stop. Leave your shoes and stockings on. They look better on you.”

Peach obeyed and straightened up, fingers seeking the back of her neck. There, they pulled down the zipper responsible for keeping the top half of her dress closed. With the same, silky grace of her tennis serves her arms retreated into the dress, pushing the top half of the dress away to hang stiffly off her waist, a discarded shell. The bra, sewn in the same style as the discarded gloves, came off next. Out they tumbled, Peach’s pale and perky breasts, free of the tight clothing, bouncing to a quick halt, rising and receding with each breath, a tender tempo that made the koopa king ache with lust.

Now Bowser leaned forward, eyes wide. Peach’s nipples were dark rose and very large, smoldering coals on a hill of white skin. A sudden chill in the air caused them to perk amidst rising goose bumps. Each reached their zenith with the princess’s own fingertips running around the aureoles, stroking them towards further puffiness. As her skin warmed to the touch, each nipple gathered sweat, causing the vivid flesh to cling slightly on each pass of the teasing fingers.

Bowser couldn’t take the titillation for much longer. He had promised himself beforehand that the strip tease would not be rushed. Now, the King longed to feel sweet release inside her innermost confines. His voice became thick. “Show the rest to me. Get on your hands and knees and be ready.”

No sooner had the command been given than her highness was on all fours, the dress’s hem pulled up past her waist, exposing her paper white rear. White panties, matching her gloves and stockings, betrayed the outline of a set of lips far thicker and fuller than the ones on her face.

His knees popped audibly as he planted himself squarely behind her on the shag pink carpet that covered the floor. She cooed seductively in response to one hand coming to rest on her left ass cheek. In frenzy he placed a single claw behind the rapidly moistening fabric of her unmentionables and sliced it in two.

Among a cloud of curly blond hairs lay lips pinker than any lipstick.

Bowser took his outstretched cock in his right hand and thrust it home with all the gusto of a prisoner shiving his warden.

Nothing happened.

Bowser thrust again, but to no avail. There was nothing to feel. He had gone flaccid.

With a weary sigh he slapped his framed picture of Princess Peace face down on the nightstand. This had been coming for a long time.

Masturbation had lost its fun.


He couldn’t say that it was any big surprise. Every other night for the last six months he would jerk off to the same photo of Peach holding the mushroom cup trophy she had won in tennis while smiling for the press. Every time he would use the same strip tease fantasy. It was the best he could manage. Each time he kidnapped the princess, the Mario Bros had stopped things from becoming interesting, and took away any chance to get her out of her dress and into his life. He needed time to woo her, to give her the chance to see his finer qualities. To get her to appreciate how much money he could throw her way. That’s what most women cared about when it all came down to it, wasn’t it?

Doing anything against her will while under his care was simply unacceptable behavior, even for a conqueror such as himself. Life is in the details, the old ones said, and Bowser was precious short on those.

Bowser gazed at his penis lying still outside of his body, its smooth scales evergreen in color, contrasting with the bronze scales that covered most of his body. It felt chaffed. He had not bothered to spit into his palm before starting in the hopes of reaching release before it got raw. With one last dissatisfied grumble, the King rolled off his side onto his belly. He could only hope that by morning his lust would be diminished. He knew better, however.

The last time he had experienced any kind of sexual relations not exclusive to his right hand were six years ago. That had been the last mating season festival held by his kind. Afterwards, they had all left for their own worlds and kingdoms, never to be heard from again.

“Six years…” he hissed to no one, eyes closing.

Sleep came quickly. The usual myriad of restless dreams arrived, bringing their loathsome images to parade about his head like actors on a stage. Fat plumbers leaping over fire and onto his head, Peach blowing kisses, his seven kooplings begging for an airship of their own. The worst of it was the falling that came last, a sensation of floating downwards through a void. His claws flailed in darkness for holds.

But tonight, things went differently for the first time since the nightmares began.

The routine plummet into the abyss halted with a gentle whump as his backside landed on something solid.

The black shroud of the endless fall dissolved into a vision of serenity and luxury.

Bowser sat upon a large couch well stuffed with purple upholstery. There were no walls around him, only ornate columns chiseled from blue and white granite supporting a triangular roof overhead. The floor was one large rectangle of black stone, polished enough to provide a dim reflection of his face. Other pieces of fine furniture, made of gold and stone and as well stuffed as the couch, sat amidst potted ferns and statues of spear wielding humans.

Bowser could not remember ever visiting such a place in life, waking or otherwise. The feel of the building was that of a temple or shrine, furnished as a den.

Beyond the structure, a dazzling red and orange sunset reflected on calm sea. The temple sat on an island well above the body of water, which stretched unending in all directions.

As he gazed into a sky deepening from blue to slate gray, a dark speck appeared on the horizon. At first Bowser dismissed it as a large sea bird, but as it drew closer the black outline took on a human shape. Bowser uttered a startled grunt when at last a human boy flew into view on a pair of white, feathered wings.

The boy, who had the face of a man, swooped into the shadow of the roof and came to a halt in front of the koopa king, who by this time was standing, mouth agape. The man’s clothing was simple but of fine quality—a white toga and sandals. Large tree bark brown eyes looked Bowser over from beneath a full head of curly brown hair. His wings were double the size of his shoulder blades, similar to a dove’s. They folded neatly behind him. Slung over his shoulder was a sack of bleached wool.

“Here you are at last,” the small winged man said. “Welcome to my summer home.”

“And where would this be,” Bowser replied, composing himself. He shivered as he received a premonition that the weirdness was only just getting started.

“The realm of the gods. You’ve been summoned here because we require a dear favor.”

“Aren’t you a bit small for a deity? Which one are you? The god of discount clothing or of dwarf tossing? Bwa ha ha ha! It’s too bad I’m dreaming, ‘cause I should write that one down.”

The little man’s face tightened in flash of anger but regained his composure quickly in front of the koopa. “You’re not dreaming, at least not entirely. Coming to someone in an alternate world through dreams is easy and affordable. You’re the best candidate for this job that I could find on such sort notice. I’m not a god myself, but rather their servant and friend. My name is Pit.”

Bowser’s expression remained incredulous. The winged man gave him a cocked eyebrow and continued. “Eros, the Goddess of Love, has deigned to trust me with the responsibility of completing her divine interventions while on vacation. That is, coming into the lives of people with faulting relationships and doing them some good. In these cases, it’s the sexual area of things.”

“So what you’re telling me is you’ve been left to play cupid, and now you want me to do your job getting losers laid.”

“You could put it like that I suppose. There’s too much to handle by myself, I need someone brave and sturdy. Someone gifted with a silver tongue. That someone is you.”

Bowser waved at Pit dismissively. “Now this is getting crazy. I should dream myself yanking out those feathers for pillow stuffing and wake up—“

“To your lonely existence.”

“What?”

Pit grinned. “You heard me. I know of your failed love life because you are one of the cases Eros left to me. Accomplish five tasks for me, and I’ll make sure your own case is solved.”

“And just how would that work?”

“A mate of your own, of course. I can’t guarantee she’ll be a princess. But I can promise you she will be the best mate.” Pit now lifted the bag from his shoulder and rummaged through it, finally producing a large wax paper scroll, sealed with a ribbon, and a golden key as large as the koopa’s fist. Last, a bow with a quiver of white arrows. The short bow was just the right size for Pit, but in Bowser’s hands it would be just a toy. The arrows likewise looked little more than metal matches, glimmering white and gold and green in the faded sunlight.

“This first item is the Scroll of Distant Heralds. A mystical scroll that will allow me to communicate to you through writing that shall appear on this parchment no matter where you may be. You need only scribble down your own message to like wise reach me. This is the Key of Everydoor. It will create and open portals to other worlds when the time is right. It need only be in close proximity to a portal to work its magic.”

“And how would I know what to open with it?”

“It will know what to do when the time is right. This is Eros’s tool, it will do her bidding.”

“Right. Convenient. So, what’s the toy bow do?”

“This is no toy, I can assure you that. With these arrows you can pierce the hearts of mortals and alter their perception of reality.”

“So I could shoot someone with on of these, and they’ll fall in love with the first person they see?”

Pit looked down to his toes, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. This was something he obliviously did not want Bowser to find out too soon. “That is one of their uses, yes.” His eyes shot back up to lock with Bowser’s. “But they’ll not be misused lest you incur the anger Eros and her Key strands you in Hades!”

The koopa king put up his hands. “Whoa there, short stuff. I wasn’t going to do any harm. Promise. You’ve convinced me. I’ll do it. Hell, this is all a dream anyways. What have I got to lose, eh?”

With a sigh Pit handed over the three treasures, all the while shaking his head and scolding himself silently. “There will be consequences for misdeeds. Remember that well. On the second day from your waking, the first passage will appear in your bedchamber. Be ready.”

Bowser gave Pit an embellished salute. “Can do, stubby,” he said and chortled.

With this outburst still on his lips, the koopa king was once again flung into the bottomless pitch of his nightmares.

Cast thus far--
Bowser: Super Mario Bro. series.
Peach: Super Mario Bro. series.
Pit: Kid Icarus