Peach Reeducated

"There is, er, not really a good way to do this, you know," the hulking form that lurked over the fireplace said. "But we're going to keep doing it, over and over, 'til you come to your senses. You know?"

"Stop saying that," the woman opposite the form said, seated in and chained to a large sofa. Her high-pitched voice annoyed and irritated almost everyone who heard it, except for the gigantic lizard in front of her. She sounded like a dying dove when she talked, painful coos, painful to hear. "This is improper, Bowser. Absolutely improper. Kidnapping me, again, is bad enough, but here you have me alone in your den without a chaperone. This is even more scandalous than before. Mario will be shocked."

Her pink dress overflowed the chair, making her curly locks the few sparks of colour here and there in its midst.

When the huge lizard shifted, a bookshelf fell, papers scattering over the floor. He stared at her for a moment, then downed his wine glass in a single gulp. The alcohol worked quickly and he belched.

She made a small sound of disgust from amidst the pile of dress.

He regarded her for a moment, then said, in his rumbling deep voice, "Take off your dress."

"I beg your pardon?"

"The dress. Doff it."

"I beg your pardon?"

Her voice reached new octaves. The twin koopa guards standing outside winced and pined for the days before Bowser set his sights on the princess.

"She's a princess, dammit!" he had snapped at Kamek those years ago. It had been atop the tower, and they had been gazing into Kamek's crystal ball. "T'ink about it, Kamek. Who in dis land is worthy of marrying King Koopa. Why, a princess, dat's who!"

Then came the dark times. The sad times. The times where the plumbers had come and year after year, destroyed their homes and annihilated their subjects.

Bowser had had enough. They were being married, dammit, and they were going to consummate that night.

He advanced on her, his gigantic frame filling her vision. She shrank back into her dress and squeaked.

He blinked and felt disgusted. "Dat's the way the princess of da mushroom kingdom acts, issit? A prissy, frightened little girl, is that it? Not even a little girl. An unemancipated one. Dat's it."

He grabbed her and she shrieked. The windows shattered inwards and he wrenched her upwards, snapping the chain.

He strode to the window and stared out at the rolling plains of dinosaur island. He looked down, down beyond his towering castle and at the lava lake below. The heat of it scorched them, even at this height.

He held her out over it.

"Something happened to you, Princess," Bowser said, his rumbling voice echoing over the land. "I've seen you take a frying pan to someone's head like nobody's bizness. You've kicked ass, dammit! Look at you now, a whining, squealing girl dangling over lava with tears down her cheeks. What, was the other Peach not proper? What the devil happened t'her?!"

Peach broke into tears and, just for the hell of it, fainted.

Bowser blinked, staring at her. Then, very methodically, he gathered her into his arms and left the room.

"Sir!" Kamek shouted, rushing after him. "Where're you going?"

"Get my flying machine ready," Bowser rumbled. "We're going on a vacation."

When Peach awoke, she felt warm sun streaming on her face. She pursed her lips and smelt the pungent but pleasant scent of a mushroom forest. Then she remembered dangling over a vast pit of red boiling lava and she let out a high squeal of fear.

"Quiet," Bowser's voice said. "You'll scare the Reznors somethin' good, you daft fool."

She sat up and found herself in the passenger seat of a cart, pulled by four strong Reznors. The gigantic form of Bowser sat beside her. He was wearing a straw hat.

She looked down and saw a frying pan in her lap.

"That's yours, by the by," Bowser said, his deep voice cutting through the forest. "I kept it for you. Seems you've forgotten how to use it."

He looked away and snorted. "You know, after I saw your growth from paltry princess into a warrior spirit, I spent so much money on prisons. I even trapped you in another dimension once, d'you remember that? Just 'cause I thought you were competent enough to need them. Then I finally try to propose t'you and you're a simpering little maid. How'd that come 'bout?"

She didn't reply, only shuffled away from him and folded her arms, looking away.

"Cut da stuck up noble act, Peach," Bowser said. "It don't make you look any prettier, dat's for damn sure."

"Shut up," Peach said, very quietly.

"Pick up that damn frying pan and hit me with it, if you're so angry wit' me."

The tree cracked in half from the force of the lizard flinging through it and Bowser felt himself crash along the grass, skidding along the stone beach and skipping a few times across the lake. Above his head, before his eyes crossed and everything became a bit fuzzy, he could see four crystalline floating numbers, reading 4444.

Then his eyes crossed and everything became a bit fuzzy and dark and cold.

Silence came, and he was glad of it, because his head stopped ringing.

He drifted inwards and outwards and then he tasted warm lake water mingling with his blood and some of his teeth.

He opened his eyes and stared at a small fish swimming by, peering out at him through goggles.

A warm hand touched his shoulder and Peach came into his vision. She had doffed her dress and in her white pantaloons she was a vision of loveliness. Like most breasts, hers fascinated him, small, firm things, the curves of them emerging only in hints from her undergarments.

His eyes unfocused and then focused again. She was holding the frying pan.

His next few moments were confusion, and then frustration, because he had paid hard coin to rent the lakeside cottage and here he was flying up from the lake and through the cottage roof, down into the living room. White, blinding pain flashed in front of his eyes and he rolled onto his feet, snapping his head up as the front door flew open.

"See?!" he snapped, angrily, as Peach advanced on him. "Dis is what I'm talkin' about! Whut 'xactly is wit' all dis Help me, Mario stuff, huh?! Who put that one on you?"

Peach was furious, and her voice was higher than usual. "Sorry if a girl can't move when she's good and chained to a dungeon. Sorry if a girl is busy trying to find a good husband and rule her kingdom when a bunch of turtles come and snatch her. Sorry if her only hope is two diminutive little plumbers. Sorry if you are an uneducated brute and sorry if I fall into the role of princess, when I'm supposed to!"

Bowser stumbled back from her and tripped over the splinters of the roof, landing on his back.

Peach threw the frying pan at him. He covered his head and it bounced off his scales.

She started throwing other things at him. She threw the chair at him, she opened the cupboards and threw dishes at him, and glasses at him.

He covered his head and ran for the bedroom, slamming the door close behind him. He turned around and waited. "Bitch," he said, touching his bleeding face and mouth and examining the blood. "Tell me, princess!" he shouted. "Why izzit that you're only aggressive like that when yer angry?"

"A princess," she snapped, kicking open the door, a golf club in her hand. "is lady-like! Docile! Polite! Graceful! Submissive! Aware of her duties! And she most assuredly faints at the sign of danger and she most assuredly waits for her knight in blue suspenders to rescue her!"

He went to smack her and the golf club came down on his head, breaking. His vision swam and he fell back onto the bed.

She picked up the broken piece of club from the ground and leapt onto him, straddling him and pinning his arms with her knees. Above them, the floating 3434 was fading away. She thrust the club handle under his chin and pressed, strangling him. "That's why, you overgrown simpleton," she snapped. "When I came back, I had to be a princess, not a warrior. And Mario, he likes it that way!"

"Yeah?" Bowser asked, coughing and sputtering. He got a hand out from under her knee and grabbed her. "Well I don't."

He forced his head up and stuck his tongue into her mouth. She gasped in surprise and pulled back, letting go of the golf club.

"Cuz really, sweetheart," his bass voice sent tremors down her spine. "Why be a princess when you could be a queen?"

A trickle of sweat ran down Peach's brow, down her cheek and onto the top of her left breast, its round form pressing against her white undergarments. "You know what a princess never says?" she asked, her voice soft and shaky, her fingers running along Bowser's scales.

"Wuzzat?" Bowser asked, all fang and grin.

"Fuck."

Bowser was a little unsure of what happened next. Somehow he found himself rammed against the wall, Peach's small, wet tongue gliding along his teeth. For the first time in all the years he had known her, her little crown fell off and tumbled away. She kissed the sides of his mouth and licked the scales along his neck.

His deep guttural laugh barked out and the passion in it almost scared the hell out of her. He grabbed her and forced her down, utter triumph in his eyes.

He ran his hands down her undergarments, feeling the warm flesh beneath it, the curves, the bony hips, the heat inbetween her legs.

"Hold on, hold on," she said. "Let me turn over."

She did, and a series of complicated bowties greeted his vision. "Untie me, won't you?" she asked.

Bowser stared at the labyrinth of fabric. This was the combination key to getting to Peach's flesh? How did she get into her undergarments every day?

"Untie, nuthin'," he rumbled and he tore at the fabric with his claws, revealing pale flesh below.

She turned over and pulled the top from her, and her breasts came free. Hills of pink utopia. Mounds of fleshy heaven. She smiled and let him touch them, feel them, lick them and then she noticed that length of scaly flesh that hung beneath his legs. His penis had sprang free of its sheath.

That's going inside me, she thought, and she giggled.

She forced himself at Bowser, kissing that large toothy mouth, kissing away the breath that tasted like dog's breath, sucking on that rough tongue. She pulled the pantaloons off and felt bare and naked. Sweat streaming off her, she pushed Bowser onto his back.

"Tell me, Koopa," she said, lying on him, her round buttocks in the air. "Can you get up off your back like that?"

"Yeah," he said, eying her.

"Just, you know," she said. "The turtle resemblance."

She grabbed his penis and he gasped as she squeezed. Giggling, she straddled him and slowly guided the scaly length into her. She took in as much as she could and she had to admit it felt marvelous.

Bowser's hands grabbed hold of her hips and he gasped as she began to ride him. Sweat fell off her, flattening her air, making small pools of salty liquid in between his scales. His mouth was open, drool falling down its sides and his eyes were open. He was not going to miss this for the world - naked Princess Peach flying up and down his shaft, breasts rising and falling, her mouth opening and closing.

They began to swear. Profanity intermingled with profanity and Peach looked less like a princess than a naked woman fucking a gigantic lizard.

They began to hear a noise. Her sweat had gather on his scales and her buttocks were slapping against his wet body, making a sound not two hands clapping. She was the first to break up, and then he did, and profanity became giggling.

Peach became aware of something; this had become more than just a rebellion against her stiff upbringing, more than her way of completing defeating Bowser in a way Mario never could. No, she was aware that this was fun. They were having fun.

"Kiss me," Bowser said, gasping, aware that something was rising in him.

"No," she said, trying to breath the words out rather than speak. Something was rising inside her too. "Your breath, *gasp*, stinks."

"Yours ain't so hot neither," he snapped. "Tastes like mushroom. Bet yer cootch does too."

"Oh! OH! OH!"

That was it. The volcano inside each of them erupted.

Her cries of pleasure turned into shrieks of pain. She stared down increduously at her sides. Bowser's claws had dug into her in his moment of ectasy.

"You little-" she snapped.

"Wait, Peach," he said. "I'm really sorr-"

The golf club went into his head and everything got a little hazy again.