Duke's Deal: A Hand of Misfortune for the Pink Ranger (Patreon)

Get ready to witness the ultimate card trick in the latest chapter of the Star Beast Power Rangers saga!

Witness the tragic downfall of Kat, the Pink Phoenix Ranger, as she falls prey to the sinister machinations of the Duke's dark magic. With Kat and Adam getting overwhelmed by the sinister Duke of Trump, will they fold under the pressure or play their hand to the end?

Note that this is an alternate universe where the Zyu2 team wears the Dairanger suits, not the same MMPR ones!

PS: This is special for Mike020578, who suggested continuing the Lower Deck Rangers story arc in our community post! Thank you so so much!

Special thanks to my loyal and royal patron friends:

Tim Blackwell

HectorGoro

Ricky Hartono

LLNora

as110

ゼピサ

Leonthar

Red XIX

Marc Lange

大也 成吉

Ken K

TAKASHI FUJIMORI

Ty smith

Obviousagent

Statr

snb

Robert Terwillger

Daniel K

Mike020578

Shuffle up!

While rushing through the corridors of the Halloween party mansion, Kat adjusted the straps of her naughty catgirl latex costume, the sleek material hugging her curves as she moved. The mansion's walls seemed to echo with the distant laughter and music of the Halloween party, enticing her further into its depths. As she rounded the corner, her communicator buzzed softly, Adam's name flashing on the screen.

Curiosity piqued, Kat answered the call. "Adam? What's up?"

"Kat, hey," Adam's voice crackled through the communicator. "Listen, I need your help. I'm running late for the party, and I can't get in through the front. Can you meet me at the back of the mansion? There's an empty room there. I'll explain everything when you arrive."

Kat's brow furrowed with irritation. "Running late? Seriously, Adam? You know I have to deal with my costume and everything. Ugh, this better be important."

With a sigh, she reluctantly agreed, "Fine, Adam. I'll be there."

With a sense of unease gnawing at her, Kat made her way through the labyrinthine corridors of the mansion. The air was heavy with the scent of must and decay, and the flickering lightbulbs cast eerie shadows on the walls. Despite the unsettling atmosphere, Kat couldn't shake the feeling of fever coursing through her veins.

Finally, she reached the back of the mansion, where a single door stood ajar. Pushing it open, Kat stepped into the empty room beyond. It was dingy, the only illumination coming from a lone, flickering bulb overhead. Dust motes danced in the air, casting strange patterns on the worn wooden floorboards.

"Adam?" Kat called out, her voice tinged with annoyance. "This better be worth it."

No response.

Frowning, Kat activated the flashlight on her communicator and began to search the room. The walls were bare, save for a few cobwebs clinging to the corners. The floor creaked beneath her feet as she moved, sending shivers down her spine.

Suddenly, her flashlight caught something glinting on the floor. Kneeling down, Kat picked up the object—a single spade card. Confusion gnawed at her as she turned it over in her hands, the symbol engraved on its surface gleaming in the gloom.

Before she could react, the card began to pulsate, its edges shimmering with an otherworldly glow. Kat dropped it to the floor with a gasp, but it was too late. The card erupted into a cloud of swirling energy, enveloping her in its embrace.

Panicked, Kat reached for her communicator, but it was too late. The energy consumed her, twisting and warping her reality until she found herself standing in the center of the room, the spade card clutched in her hand.

"Adam, what's going on?" Kat's voice trembled with fear as she spoke into the communicator.

But instead of Adam's voice, there was only silence. And then, a chilling laugh echoed through the empty room—a laugh that sent shivers down Kat's spine.

"Welcome to the party, Kat," a voice whispered in her ear, sending a cold chill down her spine. "I've been expecting you."

With a sinking feeling in her chest, Kat realized that she had walked right into the Duke of Trump' twisted trap. And now, there was no escape.

The moment Kat placed the spade mask upon her face, she felt a surge of energy coursing through her body, as if she had been plunged into a swirling vortex of darkness. The mask's vore wrapped around her face, constricting her senses as its influence dug deep into her mind.

As the darkness receded, Kat found herself standing in the center of an empty ballroom. The once desolate room had transformed into a marvelous spectacle, filled with twisted opulence and evil energy. Sinister figures adorned in elaborate costumes moved gracefully across the dance floor, their movements fluid yet unsettling.

Kat's heart pounded in her chest as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. "What is this place? Where am I?" she muttered to herself, her voice barely audible over the haunting melody that filled the air.

"You are in my domain, Kat," a disembodied voice whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "Welcome to the Dance of Spades."

Kat's eyes widened in horror as she realized the truth. She had fallen into the Duke of Trump' twisted trap and was now at his mercy.

"No," she whispered, her voice trembling with defiance. "I won't dance for you. I won't be your ."

But the voice only chuckled darkly in response. "Oh, but you will, Kat. You have no choice."

With a sinking feeling in her chest, Kat tried to resist, but the mask's influence was too strong. It pulsed with dark energy, compelling her to move in time with the haunting melody that filled the room.

All around her, the evil figures of Putty Patroller minions dressed in fancy costumes danced with sinister glee, their movements synchronized with the rhythm of the music. Kat watched in horror as they circled around her, their eyes glowing with diabolical intent.

"Stop it," Kat pleaded, her voice filled with desperation. "Please, I don't want to dance."

But her words fell on deaf ears as the minions closed in, their twisted laughter echoing in her ears. With each step she took, the mask's influence grew more pungent, pulling her deeper into its dark embrace.

Tears welled up in Kat's eyes as she fought against the mask's hold, but it was futile. She was powerless to resist, a mere card in the Duke of Trump' twisted collection.

As the spade card mask continued to bombard Kat's mind with its brainwashing energy, she felt herself slipping further into madness. Her thoughts became a stuttering jumble of incomprehensible fragments, her brain drowning in a sea of ecstasy and confusion.

"Stop... please... I can't..." Kat's voice wavered, her words barely coherent as she struggled against the overwhelming onslaught of the mask's influence. Her watery eyes filled with tears, rolling back in her head as her mouth contorted into a grotesque mask of agony and despair.

All around her, the evil figures of Putty Patroller minions danced with furious abandon, their movements fluid and hypnotic. Their twisted laughter echoed in the cavernous ballroom, mingling with the haunting melody that filled the air.

"You cannot resist, Kat," the disembodied voice of the Duke of Trump whispered in her ear, his words a relentless mantra driving her further into madness. "You belong to me now. Dance, my lovely card. Dance for eternity."

Kat's mind reeled at the sound of the Duke's voice, her thoughts fragmented and chaotic. She tried to fight back, to claw her way out of the darkness that threatened to consume her, but it was like trying to hold back the tide.

"I can't stop..." Kat gasped, her voice barely audible over the violent tsunami of sound surrounding her. Her body moved of its own accord, jerking and twitching in time with the relentless beat of the music.

The mask pulsed with dark energy, its claws weaving deeper into Kat's subconscious. Memories and thoughts collided in her mind, merging and distorting until she could no longer distinguish reality from illusion.

Images flashed before her eyes—scenes from her past, twisted and distorted by the Duke's hellish influence. She saw herself as a child, laughing and playing with her friends, but the faces were blurred and indistinct, their smiles twisted into grotesque grimaces.

"No... this isn't real..." Kat muttered, her voice barely a whisper as she fought to hold onto her sanity. But the mask's influence was relentless, its grip on her mind unyielding.

The dance continued, each movement more heated than the last. Kat's body convulsed uncontrollably, her limbs flailing as if pulled by invisible strings. She was trapped in a nightmarish whirlwind of sound and motion, her consciousness slipping further and further away.

As Kat desperately tried to reach her morpher to transform and break free from the mask's grip, she felt the tongues of debauchery tightening around her mind and body. Each movement was a struggle against the overwhelming power of the Duke of Trump' influence, his sinister presence looming over her like a dark cloud.

"Come now, Kat," the Duke's voice echoed through the empty ballroom, his tone dripping with malice. "You can't escape your fate. You were already tainted from the start, wearing that naughty little latex costume. Embrace it, let it consume you."

Kat became nauseated as she fought against the mask's hold, her fingers trembling as they reached for the morpher on her belt. But no matter how hard she tried, it remained just out of reach, taunting her with its elusiveness.

"I won't... I won't give in," Kat gasped, her voice strained with effort. "I'm not... dirty... I'm not..."

But the Duke's words echoed in her mind, worming their way into her consciousness like poison. She could feel the mask's influence growing stronger with each passing moment, its fingers digging deeper into the curves of her heroic sanctity.

Around her, the ballroom pulsed with hellish energy, the twisted figures of Putty Patroller minions dancing with furious abandon. Their laughter echoed in Kat's ears, mocking her futile attempts to resist.

"You can't fight it, Kat," the Duke whispered in her ear, his presence looming over her like a specter of doom. "You were destined to fall, destined to become part of my lot."

Tears welled up in Kat's eyes as she stared helplessly at her morpher, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She could feel the darkness closing around her, threatening to consume her whole.

And then, in desperation, Kat lunged forward, her fingers grasping desperately for the Morpher. But before she could reach it, the mask's claws tightened around her, pulling her back into its grasp.

"Pathetic," the Duke sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "You were never meant to be a hero, Kat. You were always destined for darkness."

Kat's vision blurred as tears streamed down her cheeks, her body trembling with exhaustion and fear. She knew that she was running out of time, that soon she would be lost to the madness that threatened to consume her.

Kat's hand trembled as she reached for her morpher, her vision blurry with a desperate urgency. But before she could grasp it, she felt a sudden force pulling her back, stopping her in her tracks.

Her eyes widened in shock as she turned to see Adam standing before her, his figure cloaked in the dark shadow of the black card costume. His face was pale, his lips painted with a garish shade of lipstick, a twisted parody of his former self.

"Adam... what... what have they done to you?" Kat's voice quivered with disbelief as she stared at her friend, unable to comprehend the depths of his corruption.

Adam's eyes bore into hers with a chilling intensity, his voice a hollow echo of its former warmth. "They've shown me the truth, Kat. The truth about you."

Kat's spirit clenched with a sense of dread as she listened to Adam's words, the weight of betrayal heavy upon her shoulders. "What... what do you mean?"

Adam took a step closer, his movements slow and deliberate. "The Duke of Trump was right, Kat. You were always dirty inside. That's why you wear that skintight pink Ranger costume every day, isn't it? For your own pleasure."

Kat's breath caught in her throat as Adam's words cut through her like a knife. She felt a surge of anger and disbelief rising within her, but a profound sense of hurt and confusion quickly overshadowed it.

"No... no, Adam, you're wrong," Kat protested weakly, her voice trembling with emotion. "I wear the Ranger costume to protect others, to fight for what's right. It's not about pleasure, it's about duty."

But Adam only laughed, a cold, mocking sound that sent chills down Kat's spine. "Duty? Please, Kat. Don't lie to yourself. You wear that costume because you enjoy the attention, because you crave the thrill of danger. Admit it."

Tears welled up in Kat's eyes as she listened to Adam's cruel words, her heart breaking with each passing moment. She had always looked up to him, admired him for his strength and courage. But now, seeing him corrupted beyond recognition, she couldn't help but feel a sense of profound loss.

"I won't... I won't believe you," Kat choked out, her voice barely a whisper as she struggled to maintain her composure. "You're not Adam. You're just a stooge of the Duke of Trump."

Adam's eyes flashed with a twisted gleam as he took another step closer, his voice dripping with malice. "And what if I am, Kat? What does it matter? In the end, we're all just pawns in his game."

Kat's heart sank as she realized the truth of Adam's words. She had been naive to think that she could save him and break through the darkness that had consumed him. Now, standing before her as a twisted reflection of his former self, Adam served as a chilling monument of the Duke of Trump' power.

As the weight of betrayal settled upon her shoulders, Kat felt a surge of insecurity rising within her. She glanced down at her pink Ranger costume, the skintight fabric clinging to her curves, and for the first time, she couldn't deny the truth in Adam's words.

The brainwashing mask still attached to her face bombarded her mind with subliminal messages, twisting her thoughts and insecurities into a twisted confirmation of Adam's accusations. Slowly, reluctantly, Kat acknowledged the dark truth lurking beneath the surface.

"I... I do enjoy wearing the costume," she admitted softly, her voice barely audible over the din of the ballroom. "But it's not just for the thrill... it's not just for pleasure."

But even as she spoke the words, doubt gnawed at her insides, eating away at her resolve. Was she truly fighting for justice, or was she merely indulging in the forbidden pleasure of her skintight costume?

The Duke of Trump' laughter echoed through the ballroom, a cruel symphony of mockery and ridicule. "Yes, Kat," his voice whispered in her ear, his words twisting her thoughts even further. "Embrace your desires. Embrace your darkness."

With Adam's relentless comments continued to sink into Kat's heroic soul, the brainwashing spade mask attached to her face bombarded her mind with a barrage of insecurity and twisted confirmation. Each word from Adam, each insidious whisper from the Duke of Trump, fueled the growing doubt and confusion within her.

"You see, Kat," Adam's voice dripped with malice, his eyes boring into hers with a chilling intensity. "You've always been drawn to the thrill of danger, to the forbidden pleasure of your skintight costume. Admit it. Embrace it."

Kat's breath caught in her throat as the weight of Adam's accusations bore down on her. She glanced down at her pink Ranger costume, the fabric hugging her curves like a second skin, and for the first time, she couldn't deny the truth in his words.

The Duke of Trump' laughter echoed through the ballroom, a raging black hole of mockery and ridicule that filled Kat's ears like a sinister symphony. "Yes, Kat," his voice whispered in her ear, his words twisting her thoughts into a tangled web of desire and doubt. "You are dirty. You are naughty. And you love it."

Tears welled up in Kat's eyes as she struggled to make sense of her conflicting emotions. Was she truly fighting for justice, or was she merely indulging in the forbidden pleasure of her skintight costume? The lines between reality and illusion blurred, and Kat felt herself slipping further into the darkness that threatened to consume her.

"I... I don't know," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the din of the ballroom. "I thought... I thought I was doing the right thing. But now..."

Adam's lips curled into a cruel smirk as he stepped closer, his presence looming over her like a specter of doom. "Now you see the truth, Kat. You see that you've been living a lie, that you've been hiding behind the facade of righteousness. But deep down, you know the truth. You know what you truly desire."

Kat became disoriented and panicked as she stared into Adam's eyes, searching for some sign of the friend she once knew. But all she found was darkness, a void where his warmth and compassion had once resided.

The enslaving conceal continued to pulse with dark energy, its claws weaving deeper into Kat's subconscious. Memories and thoughts collided in her mind, merging and distorting until she could no longer distinguish reality from illusion.

Images flashed before her eyes—scenes from her past, twisted and distorted by the Duke's sinister influence. She saw herself wearing the pink Ranger costume, her body trembling with agitation as she faced down her enemies. But instead of feeling pride and courage, she felt a strange sense of exhilaration, a forbidden pleasure that sent shivers down her spine.

Kat knew that she was lost. Lost to the madness, lost to the darkness, lost to the relentless power of the Duke of Trump. She was his player now, doomed to dance to his tune for all eternity.

And as the darkness closed in around her, Kat's doubts grew louder, drowning out her courage to argue. "Maybe... maybe there's some truth to what they're saying," she whispered to herself, her voice barely a whisper in the chaotic ballroom. "Maybe... maybe I do enjoy wearing the costume. Maybe I'm not as pure as I thought..."

The realization struck her like a blow to the chest, stealing what little remained of her resolve. She felt a sense of shame wash over her, a feeling of unworthiness that threatened to consume her whole. "I'm... I'm naughty," she admitted softly, her voice trembling with self-doubt. "And... and maybe I do wear the Ranger suits for the skintight pleasure..."

With the weight of her confession settled upon her shoulders, Kat felt a strange sense of liberation wash over her. It was as if a burden had been lifted, freeing her from the constraints of her own self-denial. But even as she embraced this newfound truth, she knew that she was teetering on the edge of darkness, and that the Duke of Trump' influence still held sway over her fragile mind.

***

As the mind-destroying mask continued to pulse with dark energy, its vore ate deeper into Kat's subconscious, she felt a sense of exhilaration coursing through her veins. The mask had burned a tattoo of the evil spade symbol into her forehead, marking her as a prostitute to the Duke of Trump' twisted will. And yet, instead of fear or despair, Kat felt a strange sense of fever bubbling up inside her.

"Yes!" she exclaimed, her voice echoing through the empty ballroom with manic zeal. "I am naughty! I am dirty! And I love it!"

When Kat and Adam embraced their newfound corruption, waves of ecstasy washed over them, enveloping their senses in a haze of pleasure and desire. The dominating masquerade pulsated with dark energy, its tendrils delving deeper into their minds, amplifying their darkest desires and fantasies.

With each passing moment, Kat and Adam felt themselves slipping further into the abyss, their inhibitions crumbling under the intoxicating influence of the Duke of Trump' twisted magic. Their bodies trembled with euphoria as they surrendered themselves completely to the darkness, their minds consumed by a singular obsession: to serve their master and savor the pleasures of their hots.

Kat's transformation under the influence of the spade mask unfolded with chilling efficiency. As the mask enveloped her face, she was consumed by a delirious fervor, her mind clouded by the corrupting influence of the Duke of Trump. With each passing moment, her thoughts became muddled, her sense of self slipping away into the abyss of darkness.

Encouraged by Adam and the Duke, Kat succumbed to the mask's persuasive whispers, her once noble intentions twisted into something sinister and diabolical. With a feverish sparkle in her eyes, she recited her twisted roll call, her voice now tinged with an unsettling echo that sent shivers down the spines of all who heard it.

"I’m no longer in the game of Pink Rangers. I am now the Dancer of Spades, the mistress of chaos!" she proclaimed, her words echoing through the empty ballroom with an eerie resonance. Her movements now became frenzied, as if she were under the spell of some unseen force.

The moment she reached the climax of her roll call, Kat's body contorted into a grotesque parody of her former self. Her once elegant fighting pose twisted and distorted, her limbs moving unnaturally as if guided by some unseen dealer.

The evil power of the Duke of Trump surged through Kat's corrupted form, ripping her powers apart and assimilating them into his own growing collection of dark energies. With each passing moment, Kat's essence was drained away, her once vibrant spirit fading into nothingness as she became little more than a pawn in the Duke's twisted game.

But even as the darkness consumed her essence, Kat's voice rang out loud and clear, a diabolical relic of the hero she once was. "I am the queen of spades, the master of deception!" she declared, her words carrying a weight of undeniable power.

Kat's laughter echoed through the empty ballroom, a symphony of madness and delight as she danced with abandon, her movements fluid and hypnotic. Adam watched her with hungry eyes, his own desires ignited by the sight of her unrestrained passion.

"Yes, Kat," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "I guess you could say we've been dealt a bad hand, Kat.”

Kat's eyes gleamed with manic enthusiasm as she turned to face him, her lips curling into a wicked smile. "Yes, Adam," she murmured, her voice laced with longing. "Well, I suppose it's better to be a card in the Duke's deck than to be left out of the game entirely, right?"

Adam became libidinous as he drew closer to her, his body thrumming with anticipation. With an earnest embrace, they lost themselves in each other, their minds and bodies consumed by the all-encompassing ecstasy of their corruption.

Akin to orchestrating a devastating magic show, the Duke of Trump summoned forth a row of his hellish power cards, each pulsating with dark energy. With a sinister grin, he selected two cards, one already infused with Adam's Star Beast Black Lion power, and the other eagerly awaiting its corruptive payload. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled the empty card toward the delirious and half-transformed Kat, its surface crackling with ominous energy.

The card collided with Kat in a blinding burst of evil light, engulfing her in its sinister glow. She writhed and convulsed as her Pink Phoenix power was forcibly ripped from her, the symbol of her once noble identity now trapped within the confines of the diabolical card. With a triumphant cackle, the Duke of Trump reclaimed the card, now imbued with the stolen power of the Pink Ranger.

"Aces high, Rangers! Your fate is now in the cards!" the Duke crowed, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "Your powers are mine to command; soon, your very existence shall be but a distant play!"

Kat, her mind clouded by the mask's corrupting influence, could only laugh in delirious excitement at the sight of her own defeat. "Yes, yes!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with manic glee. We're... we're done for, Adam! Isn't it thrilling?"

Adam, his once noble spirit now twisted by the Duke's dark magic, could only nod in agreement, a malicious grin spreading across his lips. "Indeed, Kat," he replied, his voice laced with wicked delight. "Looks like our luck has run out, Kat. We've been trumped!"

With their powers now in the clutches of the Duke of Trump, Kat and Adam stood as living testaments to the Duke's diabolical reign. And as the evil laughter of their new master echoed through the halls of the ballroom, their fates were sealed, their once noble identities lost to the darkness forever.

As Kat slowly donned the growing Dancer of Spades latex human card intermingling with her previously heroic Pink Phoenix Ranger costume, every inch of the parasite rubbery fabric sending shivers of ecstasy down her spine, she let out a wild, primal scream of uncontrolled bliss. Her laughter echoed off the walls of the empty ballroom, mingling with the manic cries of pleasure that poured forth from her lips.

"Oh, yes!" she cried out, her voice raw with ecstasy. "This feels incredible! Deal me in, Duke! I'm ready to play my hand."

Her eyes, now rolled back in her head, sparkled with madness as she twirled and danced in the darkness. The swirling patterns of the costume's design only heightened her euphoria.

Adam watched her with rapt fascination, his own desires ignited by the sight of her abandon. "Yes, Kat!" he shouted, his voice barely audible over the hurricane of their mad debauchery. "You're right, Kat. We're caught in the shuffle now, with no way out!"

Kat's laughter rang out like a symphony of madness as she spun and twisted in her newfound form, the rubbery fabric clinging to her skin like a second skin. "I am the Dancer of Spades!" she declared, her voice echoing with unhinged glee. "I am the embodiment of pleasure and power!"

With each movement, she felt herself sinking deeper into the abyss, her mind awash with sensations beyond comprehension. She was no longer Kat the Pink Ranger; she was something greater, something darker, something utterly intoxicating.

While Kat danced in the grip of her ecstatic madness, lost in the swirling abyss of pleasure and power, she felt a sudden, electrifying presence envelop her. Adam, his own lust burning with intensity, drew her close, his lips crashing against hers in a frantic kiss that sent shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through her veins.

The Duke of Trump's dark presence looming over them joined in the twisted embrace, his lips meeting hers in a macabre union of pleasure and pain. In that moment of unholy communion, Kat's mind shattered like fragile glass, unable to withstand the overwhelming force of their combined corruption.

"Kat! Feel the pleasure in the deck!" Adam's words were a frenzied climax, punctuated by the frantic kisses he showered upon her.

Kat's laughter mingled with Adam's, a symphony of ecstasy that echoed off the walls. She responded in kind, her voice filled with delirious joy. "Yes, Adam! Yes! More! More!"

The Duke of Trump' laughter cut through the chaos, a sinister melody wading through their minds like a serpent. "Yes, my children!" he hissed, his voice dripping with malice. "I hold all the aces!"

A primal scream tore from Kat's throat as her consciousness was torn asunder, consumed by the final explosion of pleasure and madness. Her senses overwhelmed by the twisted ecstasy of the moment, she surrendered herself entirely to the darkness, her identity consumed by the all-encompassing void. “We're just a couple of jacks in a game rigged by the house!"

The lavish smell of Kat’s urine burst and Adam’s wanton cumming as they became mindless helots of playful lust inflamed their eternal master "Time to deal a winning hand, my dear Rangers! Prepare for your grand demise!"

***

Suddenly, as if the darkness itself had swallowed them whole, the ballroom became empty once more. The echoes of their frenzied ecstasy faded into the void, leaving only the empty space's cold, oppressive silence.

Kat, now drained of her corrupted energy, slumped unconscious against the cold floor, her body clad in the tight embrace of her latex catgirl Halloween costume.

In the gloom that filtered through the darkness, the remnants of their twisted union remained etched upon Kat's cheeks—glowing, throbbing marks of kisses that slowly began to fade like scars upon her soul.

The Pink Ranger had fallen, consumed by the darkness that lurked within the depths of her mind. And as the shadows enveloped her once more, a sense of emptiness descended upon the empty ballroom, a haunting monument of the price of their corrupted desires.