PFC Stewart Peter Bate almost hoped there was nothing after death. The prospect of standing before the pearly gates of heaven and answering "how did you get here?" with "I got sucked up by the trumpet tail of a swimwear model sex demon" was just too mortifying.
On the other hand, Bate really hoped there was something following on from this life because it looked very much like this world was done with him.
Muscular peristaltic contractions ran through the transparent tube, inching Bate deeper down it. Only his feet and ankles were still outside. Bate kicked them feebly. Not that it had any chance of doing anything. Despite looking like it was made out of soft clear rubber, the tube was powerful enough to lift Bate up off the ground and hold him there while she gulped him down. His arms were pinned to his sides. It was as much as he could do to keep moving his ribcage in and out to breathe in what little air remained within the tube.
Another muscular ripple jerked Bate a little deeper. The process of her swallowing him was slow enough to give him plenty of time to contemplate on how he'd ended up in this horrible state.
Stupidity.
That's what it was.
Stupidity on top of stupidity.
He'd signed up to join the army because he wasn't doing anything better with his life.
Stupidity.
He'd signed up for this top secret assignment because it sounded exciting and made him feel important.
Stupidity.
Not putting a bullet in this demonic bitch the moment he'd clapped eyes on her.
At least that last one wasn't totally on him. He'd tried. His gun had jammed. And then her big trumpet tail had sucked him right up.
He hadn't seen the tail at first. He'd seen a semi-naked woman flash by through the corner of his vision and his first thought was that it was one of the camp personnel.
Bate didn't know what she was doing wandering around in her underwear. Sleepwalking maybe. What he did know was that they'd told him it was dangerous beyond the perimeter. Definitely not a place for a young woman to be running around in nothing more than her underwear.
He'd realized his mistake when he caught up to her on the other side of a large rock formation they'd been using to mark the edges of the camp.
"Miss, what are you doing out here?"
What he'd first taken for black bra and panties were some kind of paint or natural body pigmentation. She had a similar bar across her big wide eyes that looked like exotic makeup.
He'd also got close enough to see she wasn't naked, although it was easy to make that mistake. She seemed to be in some kind of clear latex bodysuit that covered her from neck to toe. It was a weird bodysuit as it also appeared to have a tail. Bate hadn't seen it at first as it was also made out of the same colorless rubberlike material. The end terminated in a strange bulbous structure, like the club tail of one of those prehistoric armored dinosaurs.
"My belly feels so empty. Would you like to fill it?" she asked as sweetly as if asking for a kiss.
The tail was clearly part of her body and not some kind of freaky cosplay. That much was evident when it reared up over her head. The end opened out like the bell of a trumpet. Glistening strands of saliva crossed an aperture large enough to take in Bate's head, and maybe his shoulders too.
That had been enough for Bate. He'd aimed his rifle at the hindig, pressed the trigger and...
...nothing happened.
Bate looked down at his gun in surprise. That was time enough for the hindig to drop the flared opening of her tail over Bate's head and suck him up.
And now he was nothing more than a bulge of food passing down her tail on the way to whatever passed for her belly. He wondered if her female form was just a lure and her real head and neck was the tail-like structure Bate was currently being slowly squeezed down. At least he had a perfect view of the lovely swell of her ass.
In many respects that made it worse.
The hindig grunted as the flexible walls of her tail—or throat—bunched up around Bate and pulled him deeper into her body.
Did she have to make it sound so sexual? Bate thought. It was so wrong.
The air had run out. He was on the verge of passing out. Dimly he became aware of his head pressing up against some kind of soft sphincter. It opened up and Bate was squeezed between her legs and through into a flexible bag that hung from the front of her body.
The lack of oxygen kicked in and Bate drifted in and out of consciousness. Dimly he was aware of movement. Not that he should care about it. It was too late. She'd swallowed him, gulped him down like a snake gobbling up a live frog.
Eaten by a fucking demonic swimwear model, of all the fucking ways to go.
Life was fucking ridiculous, and then you died.
Or maybe not.
Bate woke to a hissing sound and the tickling sensation of air being blown past his ears. He opened his eyes and his vision was filled with two big round breasts. They were black as if painted with crude oil, but otherwise had an appealing swell and softness to them. Bate got to experience that softness firsthand as hands gripped the side of his head and rubbed his face into the curvaceous mounds of flesh.
Was this heaven? Bate idly wondered.
His head was pulled back. He noticed then there was a strange elastic membrane between the hands and the sides of his head. He also saw the big tits throb in a way a woman's tits should not. The nipples—if they were nipples—opened up and warm, scented air was squirted into Bate's face.
The perfumed breeze had a similar effect to spelling salts, but with none of the unpleasant pungency. The scent fired up Bate's brain and jerked him back to full attention. It also made his blood race as if he'd suddenly come into heat.
"Ah, better," the owner of the big round boobs said. "You're such fragile things. I thought you might have expired, and that would have made for a poor meal."
The hindig.
Bate remembered now.
He was lying in a bag of soft, elastic material. The hindig girl was sort of in there with him. Sort of, in the sense the membranous pouch was part of her. It formed an extra layer over her skin, and Bate was inside her in the space between her body and this additional elastic layer. She sat on top of him and straddled his crotch. Both ends of Bate were raised by the membranous walls of the bag. The only reason he was still breathing was because the bag had been pumped full of oxygenated air.
Pumped into here by her tits, he thought.
Hindigs were weirder even than what he'd heard.
The walls of the membrane were transparent and Bate could see his surroundings through them. He was in some kind of cave lit up by candles.
The hindig had brought him here, but for what purpose?
She moaned in pleasure and clutched her big titties through the elastic walls of her pouch. She squeezed and massaged them. No scented air emerged this time. Instead the nipples opened up wider and thick globs of a white paste-like substance fell down on Bate's chest. The substance was hot. Bate felt the heat against his skin as it soaked through his uniform.
It was doing more than soak through, it was burning through the material of his uniform as if the paste was some kind of caustic gel. This should have concerned Bate more, but he felt weirdly lethargic. And besides, he didn't feel any burning pain where the white substance came into contact with his exposed skin. There was some heat, but it felt pleasant more than anything.
He also felt heat rising within him. Whether it had been his face pressed into her soft boobs, or something in the perfumed air he was inhaling, or the way she was currently rubbing her crotch against him, Bate suddenly felt really turned on and in the mood for a good hard fucking.
She dripped more white globs onto him and then, moaning with wanton sexual need, she rubbed her naked body against Bate, smearing the white paste over both of their skins. Bate was aroused enough to rub his hands all over her naked body. He wanted to slide them over her back and put his arms around her, but could only reach her sides before encountering some kind of seam that prevented his hands from going any further. No matter. He was having enough fun fondling and playing with her big round tits.
"Oh yes," she moaned. "That's making me wet."
Then she pissed in his lap. At least it felt like piss. Warm liquid flooded out of her sex and puddled around Bate's buttocks at the bottom of the stretchy bag.
Disgusting.
Kinky.
Bate's erection rose up out of the wet ruin of his pants and underwear. The hindig positioned her body over it and slowly eased herself down. She let out a soft moan as she drew Bate's cock up into the snug clutch of her sex. Bate moaned too. Her vagina was tight and extremely juicy.
"Oh yes," the alien woman sighed.
She bounced up and down on Bate's cock. Being inside this membranous bag added a lot more bounce to the experience. The stretchy walls pressed all around Bate's naked form and added extra spring to his thrusts as he fucked the alien girl.
Oh yeah, Bate thought, feeling the wet friction of her pussy sliding around his cock. Who'd have thought being swallowed up by her weird trumpet tail would have ended up like this. Maybe he had died and this was some kind of heaven.
No, it couldn't be. What they were doing together was way too dirty for any heaven.
Moaning and gasping in ecstasy, the hindig reached up and squeezed her breasts again. Her tits disgorged more thick white paste over Bate, interspersed with more puffs of that delicious perfumed air.
Faster and faster she rode him. Bate was bounced around inside the bag and churned around with the paste from her tits and the copious fluids leaking from her pussy. Together with the dissolved dregs of Bate's uniform—and probably his sweat and pre-cum as well—the liquids formed a messy slurry at the bottom of the transparent pouch.
"Yes," the hindig girl said. "I'm going to come... going to come so much."
So was Bate, if the steadily rising pressure in his balls was anything to go by.
The hindig switched position. She moved her legs forwards and crossed them behind Bate's back, coaxing him to penetrate her even more deeply with his manhood until it felt like every millimeter had been gobbled up by her wet, hungry sex. She leant forwards and hugged Bate's upper body through the elastic membrane.
Their two bodies were pressed too tightly together for any kind of thrusting motion, but none was required. Her vagina was moving all on its own. It throbbed, squeezed and tugged on Bate's cock. The stimulation was intense.
Too intense.
"Coming," Bate murmured into her soft cleavage.
His manhood throbbed and his hips flexed against her as he shot a great flood of semen inside her.
That flood was nothing but a trickle compared to what came out of the hindig. She gave out an exultant cry. Her vagina convulsed around Bate's still-throbbing member and she released a torrent of her ejaculate into the bag. This was beyond squirting. Bate was soaking in her warm issue. There was so much it was gradually filling up the bag.
The throbbing walls of her vagina set Bate off again. Her pussy clamped so tight around him it felt like she was sucking his seed out of him. Then her sex dilated and another torrent of warm fluids surged past his sensitive cock.
God, just how wet was she? The stretchy bag was filling up. It was ridiculous. The water level was already climbing up past his nipples. It smelt pretty rank as well—a potent mélange of sex and less pleasant bodily fluids. The puffs of perfumed air from her tits barely masked it.
It felt okay though. Like lying in a nice relaxing warm bath. It was the perfect thing when basking in the pleasant post-orgasmic aftermath. The elastic walls of the bag made it even better. The shifting and swaying motions sent warm currents tickling around Bate's body.
Maybe it was a little too relaxing. Bate felt a little strange below the neck. Or rather, it seemed like he couldn't feel some parts of his body at all.
The hindig placed her hands on the stretchy membrane and pressed Bate's face into her tits.
"This part's not so pleasant," she whispered down to him. "Just focus on my lovely big boobs. It won't take long."
They were lovely soft tits, Bate thought as he rubbed his face against her silky smooth skin. Big, round, and so, so soft. Soft like her luscious vagina wrapped around his cock.
Hmm. Why couldn't he feel that anymore? Had he already lost his erection? He had emptied a big load into her, he supposed. It would take a while to recover. In the meantime he'd soak in this lovely warm bath.
The hindig held Bate's head against her breasts as the rest of his body fell apart in her digestive juices. His neck detached, leaving his head behind as the rest of his body slumped to a sludge at the bottom of her stomach bag. The hindig continued to rub his face into her soft cleavage. Finally she released his head and let it fall into the rest of the soup. The flesh and soft tissues dissolved and a skull slowly sank to the bottom.
With a luxurious sigh, the hindig drew the soup of dissolved flesh into her body. The bones and other indigestible matter she excreted out through her tail onto a charnel heap at the back of her cave.
Saturday, July 08, 2017
Saturday, July 01, 2017
Succubus Summoning Art - Verdé 2.0
Jude Duval/Luded Wolf has been busy again and commissioned another piece of Verdé, this time from VezoniaArtz:
Verdé is a nature gal. Her garden is so lovely you might just end up staying there forever...
Love this piece. It reminds me of old fantasy art cards. VezoniaArtz's style is really suited for dark fae type creatures. You can check out the rest of their gallery on DeviantArt here. I'm tempted to see how busy they are and whether they might be interested in doing a few more pieces like this of gothic succubi and other monster girls. Any suggestions for H-space girls or other characters people would like to see done in this style?
Thanks again to Jude Duval for commissioning these pieces.
Verdé is a nature gal. Her garden is so lovely you might just end up staying there forever...
Love this piece. It reminds me of old fantasy art cards. VezoniaArtz's style is really suited for dark fae type creatures. You can check out the rest of their gallery on DeviantArt here. I'm tempted to see how busy they are and whether they might be interested in doing a few more pieces like this of gothic succubi and other monster girls. Any suggestions for H-space girls or other characters people would like to see done in this style?
Thanks again to Jude Duval for commissioning these pieces.
Tuesday, June 27, 2017
Monmusu Quest: Paradox [Part 2] is out!
I was out at the weekend so I wasn't able to blog about this going live on Friday.
Goddammit. The new Crimson Court DLC for Darkest Dungeon came out last week as well. How am I ever going to get any writing done?
Monmusu Quest: Paradox is the follow-up to Toro Toro Resistance's Monster Girl Quest series. Personally I thought the switch to a typical grindy JRPG over the VN-with-puzzle-battles of the original did lose some of the hentai sexiness, although MQ:P is a much stronger game. Don't let the porn aspects fool you, the first Monmusu Quest: Paradox was every bit as complex as a Final Fantasy or Dragon Quest.
Last time I did a fairly epic series of blogging my misadventures (and repeatedly getting lost) playing through the first game. Unfortunately I won't be able to do it this time. I don't know if it's an upgrade to Windows 10 or a change in the base RPGMaker programs developers use to make these games, but I've been unable to make text hooking and machine translation work for Japanese games over the past year or so. Monmusu Quest: Paradox is unfortunately no exception - the program implodes the moment I try to start it with AGTH hooked. :(
This means I'll be waiting along with everybody else on Dargoth and team for an English translation. A partial one for MQ:P part 1 already exists and you can keep up-to-date with where the part 2 translation is at here.
In the meantime I did the naughty impatient thing of checking through the game's Graphics folders to see what lovely new monster girl Bad End scenes we have to look forward to. Yes, a lot of them are recycled from the previous MGQ series, but even with that there are a lot of new sexy (ish, YMMV) monster girls to look forward to.
It looks like Toro Toro Resistance has done a similar thing to part 1 - taken the various themed areas/factions and added new Arachnes/Vampires/Fairies/Mermaids/Slimes/etc to fight alongside the monster girls from the original series.
Artwork is again a little inconsistent. I've always liked Setouchi's work, but some of the newer artists are a bit meh. (Xelvy is obviously still Xelvy, and we wouldn't want them to change at all! :) )
There are a few by this artist and hmm, not my thing. It's effective for creepy little bug girls and there are a few, and that might tickle the right spot for some peeps.
I loved seeing this, mainly for how comically ripped Luka is. I suspect most people couldn't give a rat's ass about how Luka is depicted as they're playing Monmusu Quest: Paradox to imagine themselves in his place having all the smexy done to them by gorgeous monster girls, but it's nice to see him painted as the Bad Ass hero he would have to be to survive all the nonsense thrown at him.
And as for Purple, she can wrap those thighs around my head all day long. Yum yum.
And it wouldn't be a Monster Girl Quest game if we didn't have a few WTF! designs.
Random sea creature merged with naked big-boob chick. Check.
Tentacles. Check. (I think this one might be pushing the vampire=leech metaphor a little too hard...)
Delphinus angel abominations. shudder. Check.
Of course, the great thing about Monster Girl Quest is there are so many monster girls, there's usually something for everyone. I found this lovely group artwork of some very cute succubi.
(probably in the process of squeezing poor Luka dry - it is MGQ after all!)
Would love to get in and start playing, but it looks like I'm going to have to wait patiently (very, like a year or more!) for the English translation like everyone else.
Tuesday, June 20, 2017
H-space MGB Profile: Purple Skin-Wearing Slime
Name: Purple Skin-Wearing Slime
Type: Slime
Habitat: Urban
Description:
A species of sentient slime that inhabits and wears the skins of previously consumed victims. Outside of its host's skin, the slime is clear purple in colour. While wearing a human skin, the slime will, to all intents and purposes, appear to be human aside from the eyes. These are the same purple colour as the rest of the slime. Purple slimes appear to have a preference for female skins. After taking a new skin they will often modify the contours of the body—increase bust size, decrease stomach size—in order to increase the sexual attractiveness of their new form.
The purple slimes are incapable of repairing their stolen skins. Any tears or punctures will cause the inner slime to ooze out and plug the wound, much like amber. This is the limit of their healing capabilities. Eventually their host skin will degrade to the point where the purple slime will need to discard it and seek out a fresh skin.
Rather gruesomely, the purple slimes form sentimental attractions to the skins they take. They adorn their dwellings with the skins left behind from their feeding. Previously-worn skins are afforded a higher status, sometimes even bordering on a strange kind of reverence.
Suffice to say, this can be highly disconcerting and distressing for any human visitor. Our negotiators and ambassadors will require an appropriate amount of forewarning.
Attack Strategy:
The purple slime incapacitates victims by extruding slime tendrils into the victim's body. These invade through facial orifices such as the nose and mouth, and travel to the brain, where the slime is able to induce unconsciousness with no additional side effects other than slight short-term memory loss. While wearing a skin, the slime will use this as a disguise to get close enough to their target. If the slime has no skin they will instead attempt to creep up on sleeping or similarly indisposed targets.
They feed by extruding their amorphous body into their prey and slowly digesting them from the inside until nothing remains but the outer skin, which the slime either takes as a trophy or new skin to wear. While unpleasant, I can at least understand this from a biological perspective. What makes far less sense is that the purple slime will sexually stimulate their victim, so that they are in a near-constant state of sexual climax even while being consumed from the inside.
Why? We observe this time and time again. Why is inducing sexual arousal so important to so many HSIOs? It just doesn't make any evolutionary sense.
Countermeasures:
Purple slimes are very fragile, especially in comparison to other slime-type HSIOs. Without a host skin they have difficulty in holding their semi-liquid forms together and are especially vulnerable to both mechanical and chemical disruption. While in a host skin they are no stronger than a typical human and might even be weaker. Their skins are just as easily lacerated or punctured as human skin, and cannot take too much damage before becoming unusable to the slime. However, one should always be aware of one key difference between skin-wearing purple slimes and human combatants—the slime has no vital internal organs and is unlikely to be stopped by a single bullet to the head or thorax. Use sustained fire to shred their stolen skin.
Their mimicry of humans is effective, but always given away by their eyes. Thankfully, this places a hard limitation on their infiltration capabilities as it is so easy to detect whether a slime is trying to masquerade as human. We should still be vigilant and guard against any infiltration attempts.
Threat Level:
Low.
They are extremely fragile once their disguise is seen through.
I wonder if this weakness is the reason why some of their colonies have approached us with offers of peace, friendship and co-operation. Command is receptive to the idea. Vampyrotiea and similar HSIO individuals have proven invaluable to our understanding of H-space. It will certainly raise challenges. How can we possibly co-exist with an organism that consumes us and wears our skins?
Type: Slime
Habitat: Urban
Description:
A species of sentient slime that inhabits and wears the skins of previously consumed victims. Outside of its host's skin, the slime is clear purple in colour. While wearing a human skin, the slime will, to all intents and purposes, appear to be human aside from the eyes. These are the same purple colour as the rest of the slime. Purple slimes appear to have a preference for female skins. After taking a new skin they will often modify the contours of the body—increase bust size, decrease stomach size—in order to increase the sexual attractiveness of their new form.
The purple slimes are incapable of repairing their stolen skins. Any tears or punctures will cause the inner slime to ooze out and plug the wound, much like amber. This is the limit of their healing capabilities. Eventually their host skin will degrade to the point where the purple slime will need to discard it and seek out a fresh skin.
Rather gruesomely, the purple slimes form sentimental attractions to the skins they take. They adorn their dwellings with the skins left behind from their feeding. Previously-worn skins are afforded a higher status, sometimes even bordering on a strange kind of reverence.
Suffice to say, this can be highly disconcerting and distressing for any human visitor. Our negotiators and ambassadors will require an appropriate amount of forewarning.
Attack Strategy:
The purple slime incapacitates victims by extruding slime tendrils into the victim's body. These invade through facial orifices such as the nose and mouth, and travel to the brain, where the slime is able to induce unconsciousness with no additional side effects other than slight short-term memory loss. While wearing a skin, the slime will use this as a disguise to get close enough to their target. If the slime has no skin they will instead attempt to creep up on sleeping or similarly indisposed targets.
They feed by extruding their amorphous body into their prey and slowly digesting them from the inside until nothing remains but the outer skin, which the slime either takes as a trophy or new skin to wear. While unpleasant, I can at least understand this from a biological perspective. What makes far less sense is that the purple slime will sexually stimulate their victim, so that they are in a near-constant state of sexual climax even while being consumed from the inside.
Why? We observe this time and time again. Why is inducing sexual arousal so important to so many HSIOs? It just doesn't make any evolutionary sense.
Countermeasures:
Purple slimes are very fragile, especially in comparison to other slime-type HSIOs. Without a host skin they have difficulty in holding their semi-liquid forms together and are especially vulnerable to both mechanical and chemical disruption. While in a host skin they are no stronger than a typical human and might even be weaker. Their skins are just as easily lacerated or punctured as human skin, and cannot take too much damage before becoming unusable to the slime. However, one should always be aware of one key difference between skin-wearing purple slimes and human combatants—the slime has no vital internal organs and is unlikely to be stopped by a single bullet to the head or thorax. Use sustained fire to shred their stolen skin.
Their mimicry of humans is effective, but always given away by their eyes. Thankfully, this places a hard limitation on their infiltration capabilities as it is so easy to detect whether a slime is trying to masquerade as human. We should still be vigilant and guard against any infiltration attempts.
Threat Level:
Low.
They are extremely fragile once their disguise is seen through.
I wonder if this weakness is the reason why some of their colonies have approached us with offers of peace, friendship and co-operation. Command is receptive to the idea. Vampyrotiea and similar HSIO individuals have proven invaluable to our understanding of H-space. It will certainly raise challenges. How can we possibly co-exist with an organism that consumes us and wears our skins?
Monday, June 19, 2017
H-space MGB Story: Purple Skin-Wearing Slime
"Do you think he's a mouth or ass man?" Pamela Griffith asked.
She sat casually on some kind of leather throne, with one leg folded over the other.
Only it wasn't Pamela Griffith. Pamela Griffith had gone missing a week ago, along with the rest of exploratory team Charlie. LT Stewart Peter Bate was part of the unit sent out to discover why explo team Charlie had not been in contact for several days. He'd found out why... unfortunately.
Bate knew Pam. He'd spoken to her multiple times while they'd been stationed at FOB Lamanche, before she'd been sent out to explore a newly discovered region of H-space with explo team Charlie. Bate liked her. She was bubbly and vivacious and prone to gushing about her area of scientific expertise. Bate didn't mind this. He'd studied for a Bachelor of Science in biology before enlisting. It was refreshing to be able to talk to someone who'd studied the same discipline. He suspected she liked talking to him for the same reason.
The thing sitting on the leather throne in front of Bate was not Pam. It looked like her, but the mannerisms were all different. This Pam radiated confidence and authority in a way the real Pam—who was often shy and demure until drawn out of her shell—did not. Bate was also sure she wouldn't have brazenly reveled in her nakedness like this Pam. The Pam Bate remembered also didn't have such a cruel, cold cast to her face either.
There were minor differences on top of this. While Bate had never seen the real Pam naked, he would have guessed she had B-cups rather than the double-Ds the imposter sitting before him was sporting. She also appeared to be curvier at the hips and ass than the real Pam. She looked more like Pam's evil, slutty twin.
If only she was Pam's evil, slutty twin.
The eyes were the worst. They were a strange purple color and odd eddies swirled deep within them.
"Why don't we ask him?" the woman to the right of Bate asked.
No, the worst was him being naked and bound to some kind of weird frame. He didn't even know how he'd ended up here. Whatever had captured him and tied him to this strange contraption had stolen the memories of his capture.
Tied wasn't the right word. It felt more like glued. Bate's arms and legs were spread apart and his wrists and ankles were stuck to a sturdy hoop by a substance that felt like tar. Stretched across the hoop beneath Bate was a sheet of elastic material. It felt disconcertingly like skin. The hoop—and Bate's bound, naked, spread-eagled form—was mounted on a trolley contraption. After he'd woken he'd been wheeled into this chamber by two naked women. One of the women had strange bulges of what looked like purple jelly on her skin. It looked like she'd been cut, but rather than blood welling out, purple slime had oozed out of the wound like amber. It slowly pulsed as if alive.
"And spoil the surprise," Not-Pam answered the woman's question. "I think not."
She inserted a finger between her plump lips and sucked on it in a sexually suggestive manner.
Bate wished this was a nightmare. The room he was in looked like it belonged in a nightmare. Rows of pictures adorned the stone walls, but rather than paintings they looked like flayed skins stretched across frames. The flattened faces were visible and contorted into strange expressions. Bate couldn't tell whether they were of agony or ecstasy.
Not-Pam stopped sucking on her finger.
"Turn him upside down," she said at last.
Giggling, the two naked women unlocked a mechanism at the back of the rack and turned Bate as if he was attached to a wheel of fortune.
"Pam, don't you remember me? It's Dale," Bate said.
He knew it was pointless. It might be Pam's body, but whatever spark animated it was not Pam. He tried anyway, pleading with her.
Not-Pam regarded Bate with her weird, swirling purple eyes.
"Interesting. He knew the suit," she said. "Was she someone you cared for? Were you lovers?"
Not-Pam opened her legs, shamelessly displaying the clamshell folds of Pam's sex.
"No, I think not. Did you desire her? Was your ardor unrequited?"
Not-Pam saw Bate's expression and threw back her head in cold laughter.
"Mmm, that will make this a lot easier," she said.
She gripped the arm rests of her chair. With a shudder, Bate realized it also appeared to be upholstered in human skin. Not-Pam started flexing her hips in a lewd manner. Her breathing grew heavier and her eyelids fluttered as she squirmed in the chair.
The two women wheeled Bate closer, so that only a few feet separated him from Pam's vulgar gyrations.
Not-Pam's face flushed. She gripped the armrest with enough force to whiten her knuckles. Or would have. Instead, a strange purple coloration—like an infected bruise—showed up beneath her skin.
Bate didn't look at her hands for long. Stranger things happening between her legs caught his attention. Her sex was dilating—widening—and something was emerging from within. It looked like she was giving birth, except the emerging 'baby' was the same clear purple color as her eyes.
Not a baby. Whatever it was had a wet opening at the tip of its head.
Pam gave a loud, orgasmic moan. Her vagina stretched further as more of the purple mass emerged. What was it—some kind of long purple gelatinous maggot? It seemed far too sterile—too synthetic—to be that. More like a man-made substance, maybe rubber or gel. More emerged from Not-Pam's vagina, pulled out—or pushed out—like a string of slimy beads. The flexible pipe reared up out of her sex like a headless snake.
Was this the thing infecting Pam?
Then his thoughts devolved to panic as the glistening purple tube lunged towards him. A wet sucker mouth opened in the end as it hovered level with Bate's crotch. Bate thrashed wildly. He couldn't free his hands and feet. The best he could do was jerk his midsection to the left and right. The slimy appendage tracked Bate's movements.
Not-Pam sat on her leather throne and watched it all with an enigmatic smile on her lips. Her cheeks were flushed, but were stained purple rather than red.
"They're always so fearful when you approach their precious sexual organs," she said.
"You'll change his mind," the naked woman to Bate's right said.
The tube bobbed forwards and came into contact with Bate's crotch with a wet splat. He felt the sucker maw suck at him and a chill went up his spine as he realized it was after his manhood. He twisted and turned but was unable to shake off the gelatinous appendage. The opening found the end of his penis and sucked him inside like it was gobbling up a worm.
"Get off! Get off!" he yelled.
The tube made horrible wet sucking sounds as it drew Bate's flaccid penis down a warm, lubricated tunnel. There were no teeth—nor anything sharp—thankfully. Rings of muscular peristalsis rolled up his shaft, but they weren't very powerful, certainly nowhere near the level of force required to tear Bate's member from his body. In fact, the soft muscular tugging sensation was gentle enough to feel rather... pleasant.
Bate realized the two women on either side of him were giggling uncontrollably. Not-Pam was also smiling. The gelatinous tube connecting Bate to her vagina flexed and continued to suck on his penis.
Bate stopped twisting and turning when it became obvious the tube was incapable of hurting him.
What was this—some kind of weird alien joke? Make him think they were going to bite his dick off and then suck him off instead.
It did feel like she was sucking him off.
Did she even know what she was doing?
This felt like fellatio. Maybe even better. The tube was tight and rings of muscular contraction stroked up his shaft.
"His face," the woman on the right said.
"Typical man," the woman on the left said. "Put anything near their prick and it terrifies them."
"I'd rather this one was a little less terrified," Not-Pam said. "He's making this harder than I'd like."
"He does seem to have a problem with hardness," the woman to Bate's left said.
Both broke out in a fit of giggles.
Yup, they knew exactly what they were doing, Bate thought.
"I'll fix that," Not-Pam said.
Her cheeks puffed in and out. Her mouth formed a little 'o'. She flexed first her abdomen, then her hips.
Bate felt the flow of peristaltic contractions reverse. Not-Pam's vagina widened as bulges traveled up out of her sex. Bate had another minor panic attack when he thought it might be acid she was regurgitating up to spit all over him. Then the first pulse sloshed around Bate's penis and it felt more like warm lubricant. Better than warm lubricant. Bate didn't know what was in it, but it made his cock feel warm and tingly. More juices sloshed into him and the pleasant glow spread down to his balls. All of a sudden Bate felt turned on. Really turned on.
"Ooh, look how hard she's made you," the woman on the right said.
It was weird. Bate could see his erection through the transparent walls of the rubbery tube. It looked more like some kind of sex toy sheath than living material, except it was constantly in motion. The super-soft walls undulated as the tube sucked on him with sloppy wet slurping sounds. The peristaltic contractions felt like dexterous, oil-slick fingers stoking up and down his cock.
Bate let himself relax a little. It looked weird, but it felt all right. Better than all right. Really fucking good. Bate had no idea why the aliens were so keen to suck him off, but he wasn't about to complain. It was better than them torturing or killing him.
The two naked girls on either side of him didn't look like killers. And what Not-Pam was doing to him with her transparent vagina tube definitely wasn't torture.
"You didn't need to tie me up if you wanted to do this," Bate said, smiling now. "We're not opposed to fraternizing with the locals. At least I'm not. Especially good looking ones."
Especially when they—slurp, slurp—were as good at sucking dick as—ooh—this. Bate's cock definitely liked it. He could see it bulging and throbbing within Not-Pam's sheath.
Bate wondered if this was why Not-Pam looked like Pam. Did these aliens have minor telepathic abilities? Had she deliberately picked a form Bate would find attractive? It sounded plausible. He'd heard rumors that the aliens of H-space—HSIOs—were weirdly obsessed with sexual intercourse.
He'd also heard other stuff as well, but that stuff was so crazy he figured it had to be the other guys winding him up.
"This would be far better if you turned me right way up," Bate said. "I bet I'd be even bigger without the blood flowing to my head."
"Ah, but then Queen Sacculina would be unable to get at your ass," the girl on his left said.
My ass? Bate thought.
Not-Pam smiled at him. Then she opened her mouth.
It stretched wide... wider... far wider than any human mouth should go.
What. The. Fuck.
Something was coming out... pushing up from her throat... pushing out. It was another purple gelatinous tube, similar to the one that had emerged from Not-Pam's pussy. It was too big for her mouth. That didn't matter. Her mouth kept stretching until the opening took up most of her face and the rest of her features were scrunched up at the edges.
More and more of the slimy purple tube wormed up out of her mouth. It arced towards Bate. He knew its destination even before he felt its wet touch against his buttocks.
No way, Bate thought. No fucking way.
He squirmed and tried to shake it off. His movements served only to increase the stimulation her other tube was applying to his erection.
The girl to his right crouched down so her head was level with Bate's. "It's necessary to complete the cycle," she said.
Fuck your cycle, he thought. He kept twisting and turning.
Her other tube gave Bate's swollen glans a little squeeze that sent a flood of raw pleasure through him. The sensation was enough to make him forget what he was doing for a moment. In that moment the other tube slithered between his buttocks, nudged up against his sphincter and—covered in a thin layer of lubricating slime—squeezed its way inside.
During an adventurous phase back at college, Bate had experimented with letting his girlfriend use a butt plug on him. This felt the same and set up a pleasant feeling of fullness inside his anus that funneled down to his balls. At the same time, Not-Pam redoubled her attentions on his cock. The sucks and squeezes increased in intensity—and with it Bate's arousal.
"Look at your face," the other girl crouched down to say. There was a contemptuous smile on her lips. "And Queen Sacculina hasn't even started yet."
Not-Pam's face jerked as if on a fishing line. A series of bulges traveled up the pipe. As the first reached Bate's ass he felt a stretching sensation that was surprisingly pleasant. Something wet entered him and went off like a gooey bomb filled with rainbows and sparkles.
The other pipe kept squeezing, sucking, stroking Bate's cock. A ripple of peristaltic force ran through the soft gelatinous walls and tugged irresistibly at him.
Bate let out an incoherent moan of bliss as a second liquid bulge was squeezed into him and burst in a rainbow explosion of sensual bliss. His cock swelled against the soft walls of the other sheath and he spat an enormous load of cum into it. Not-Pam milked him expertly with her vagina tube until she'd drained—sucked out—the contents of his balls.
Bate had barely recovered from that ejaculation when another bubble of liquid bliss was squeezed into his ass and he erupted again in another mind-shattering climax. He watched milky bulges travel down the vagina sheath like eggs down the throat of a serpent. His cum.
And maybe something else.
At the same time, bulges traveling along the tube emerging from her mouth were pumped into Bate's ass, each gooey parcel spreading warmth and an incredible feeling of ecstasy throughout him.
It was as they said—a cycle. A perfect cycle. Her fluids pumped into him, and then his fluids pumped into her.
Or pumped out of him.
Bate didn't have to do anything. Just let her wonderful soft, gelatinous sheath tug, suck and squeeze him to release after wonderful release. His whole body, from his skin to deep within his insides, felt like one massive erogenous zone.
The two naked women were down on their knees and murmuring as if praying.
Bate understood. This was glorious... divine... transcendental. The gelatinous pipes squeezed and throbbed. Not-Pam squeezed the substance of her body into Bate, and drew the substance of his body out through his cock. By the time Bate might have wondered where the fluids to support all these constant, continuous ejaculations were coming from, Queen Sacculina's slime had reached and smothered his brain, submerging it and Bate's thoughts in a thick morass of unthinking animal lust. Her vagina tube kept sucking until she was drawing her own slime back into her body and Bate had been reduced to a hollowed-out bag of skin.
"Stewart, are you okay? Was it a bad one?"
"Yes, a really bad one."
A pause.
"You can pass this on to Command. Exploratory team Charlie and the squad sent to retrieve them can officially be declared lost."
She sat casually on some kind of leather throne, with one leg folded over the other.
Only it wasn't Pamela Griffith. Pamela Griffith had gone missing a week ago, along with the rest of exploratory team Charlie. LT Stewart Peter Bate was part of the unit sent out to discover why explo team Charlie had not been in contact for several days. He'd found out why... unfortunately.
Bate knew Pam. He'd spoken to her multiple times while they'd been stationed at FOB Lamanche, before she'd been sent out to explore a newly discovered region of H-space with explo team Charlie. Bate liked her. She was bubbly and vivacious and prone to gushing about her area of scientific expertise. Bate didn't mind this. He'd studied for a Bachelor of Science in biology before enlisting. It was refreshing to be able to talk to someone who'd studied the same discipline. He suspected she liked talking to him for the same reason.
The thing sitting on the leather throne in front of Bate was not Pam. It looked like her, but the mannerisms were all different. This Pam radiated confidence and authority in a way the real Pam—who was often shy and demure until drawn out of her shell—did not. Bate was also sure she wouldn't have brazenly reveled in her nakedness like this Pam. The Pam Bate remembered also didn't have such a cruel, cold cast to her face either.
There were minor differences on top of this. While Bate had never seen the real Pam naked, he would have guessed she had B-cups rather than the double-Ds the imposter sitting before him was sporting. She also appeared to be curvier at the hips and ass than the real Pam. She looked more like Pam's evil, slutty twin.
If only she was Pam's evil, slutty twin.
The eyes were the worst. They were a strange purple color and odd eddies swirled deep within them.
"Why don't we ask him?" the woman to the right of Bate asked.
No, the worst was him being naked and bound to some kind of weird frame. He didn't even know how he'd ended up here. Whatever had captured him and tied him to this strange contraption had stolen the memories of his capture.
Tied wasn't the right word. It felt more like glued. Bate's arms and legs were spread apart and his wrists and ankles were stuck to a sturdy hoop by a substance that felt like tar. Stretched across the hoop beneath Bate was a sheet of elastic material. It felt disconcertingly like skin. The hoop—and Bate's bound, naked, spread-eagled form—was mounted on a trolley contraption. After he'd woken he'd been wheeled into this chamber by two naked women. One of the women had strange bulges of what looked like purple jelly on her skin. It looked like she'd been cut, but rather than blood welling out, purple slime had oozed out of the wound like amber. It slowly pulsed as if alive.
"And spoil the surprise," Not-Pam answered the woman's question. "I think not."
She inserted a finger between her plump lips and sucked on it in a sexually suggestive manner.
Bate wished this was a nightmare. The room he was in looked like it belonged in a nightmare. Rows of pictures adorned the stone walls, but rather than paintings they looked like flayed skins stretched across frames. The flattened faces were visible and contorted into strange expressions. Bate couldn't tell whether they were of agony or ecstasy.
Not-Pam stopped sucking on her finger.
"Turn him upside down," she said at last.
Giggling, the two naked women unlocked a mechanism at the back of the rack and turned Bate as if he was attached to a wheel of fortune.
"Pam, don't you remember me? It's Dale," Bate said.
He knew it was pointless. It might be Pam's body, but whatever spark animated it was not Pam. He tried anyway, pleading with her.
Not-Pam regarded Bate with her weird, swirling purple eyes.
"Interesting. He knew the suit," she said. "Was she someone you cared for? Were you lovers?"
Not-Pam opened her legs, shamelessly displaying the clamshell folds of Pam's sex.
"No, I think not. Did you desire her? Was your ardor unrequited?"
Not-Pam saw Bate's expression and threw back her head in cold laughter.
"Mmm, that will make this a lot easier," she said.
She gripped the arm rests of her chair. With a shudder, Bate realized it also appeared to be upholstered in human skin. Not-Pam started flexing her hips in a lewd manner. Her breathing grew heavier and her eyelids fluttered as she squirmed in the chair.
The two women wheeled Bate closer, so that only a few feet separated him from Pam's vulgar gyrations.
Not-Pam's face flushed. She gripped the armrest with enough force to whiten her knuckles. Or would have. Instead, a strange purple coloration—like an infected bruise—showed up beneath her skin.
Bate didn't look at her hands for long. Stranger things happening between her legs caught his attention. Her sex was dilating—widening—and something was emerging from within. It looked like she was giving birth, except the emerging 'baby' was the same clear purple color as her eyes.
Not a baby. Whatever it was had a wet opening at the tip of its head.
Pam gave a loud, orgasmic moan. Her vagina stretched further as more of the purple mass emerged. What was it—some kind of long purple gelatinous maggot? It seemed far too sterile—too synthetic—to be that. More like a man-made substance, maybe rubber or gel. More emerged from Not-Pam's vagina, pulled out—or pushed out—like a string of slimy beads. The flexible pipe reared up out of her sex like a headless snake.
Was this the thing infecting Pam?
Then his thoughts devolved to panic as the glistening purple tube lunged towards him. A wet sucker mouth opened in the end as it hovered level with Bate's crotch. Bate thrashed wildly. He couldn't free his hands and feet. The best he could do was jerk his midsection to the left and right. The slimy appendage tracked Bate's movements.
Not-Pam sat on her leather throne and watched it all with an enigmatic smile on her lips. Her cheeks were flushed, but were stained purple rather than red.
"They're always so fearful when you approach their precious sexual organs," she said.
"You'll change his mind," the naked woman to Bate's right said.
The tube bobbed forwards and came into contact with Bate's crotch with a wet splat. He felt the sucker maw suck at him and a chill went up his spine as he realized it was after his manhood. He twisted and turned but was unable to shake off the gelatinous appendage. The opening found the end of his penis and sucked him inside like it was gobbling up a worm.
"Get off! Get off!" he yelled.
The tube made horrible wet sucking sounds as it drew Bate's flaccid penis down a warm, lubricated tunnel. There were no teeth—nor anything sharp—thankfully. Rings of muscular peristalsis rolled up his shaft, but they weren't very powerful, certainly nowhere near the level of force required to tear Bate's member from his body. In fact, the soft muscular tugging sensation was gentle enough to feel rather... pleasant.
Bate realized the two women on either side of him were giggling uncontrollably. Not-Pam was also smiling. The gelatinous tube connecting Bate to her vagina flexed and continued to suck on his penis.
Bate stopped twisting and turning when it became obvious the tube was incapable of hurting him.
What was this—some kind of weird alien joke? Make him think they were going to bite his dick off and then suck him off instead.
It did feel like she was sucking him off.
Did she even know what she was doing?
This felt like fellatio. Maybe even better. The tube was tight and rings of muscular contraction stroked up his shaft.
"His face," the woman on the right said.
"Typical man," the woman on the left said. "Put anything near their prick and it terrifies them."
"I'd rather this one was a little less terrified," Not-Pam said. "He's making this harder than I'd like."
"He does seem to have a problem with hardness," the woman to Bate's left said.
Both broke out in a fit of giggles.
Yup, they knew exactly what they were doing, Bate thought.
"I'll fix that," Not-Pam said.
Her cheeks puffed in and out. Her mouth formed a little 'o'. She flexed first her abdomen, then her hips.
Bate felt the flow of peristaltic contractions reverse. Not-Pam's vagina widened as bulges traveled up out of her sex. Bate had another minor panic attack when he thought it might be acid she was regurgitating up to spit all over him. Then the first pulse sloshed around Bate's penis and it felt more like warm lubricant. Better than warm lubricant. Bate didn't know what was in it, but it made his cock feel warm and tingly. More juices sloshed into him and the pleasant glow spread down to his balls. All of a sudden Bate felt turned on. Really turned on.
"Ooh, look how hard she's made you," the woman on the right said.
It was weird. Bate could see his erection through the transparent walls of the rubbery tube. It looked more like some kind of sex toy sheath than living material, except it was constantly in motion. The super-soft walls undulated as the tube sucked on him with sloppy wet slurping sounds. The peristaltic contractions felt like dexterous, oil-slick fingers stoking up and down his cock.
Bate let himself relax a little. It looked weird, but it felt all right. Better than all right. Really fucking good. Bate had no idea why the aliens were so keen to suck him off, but he wasn't about to complain. It was better than them torturing or killing him.
The two naked girls on either side of him didn't look like killers. And what Not-Pam was doing to him with her transparent vagina tube definitely wasn't torture.
"You didn't need to tie me up if you wanted to do this," Bate said, smiling now. "We're not opposed to fraternizing with the locals. At least I'm not. Especially good looking ones."
Especially when they—slurp, slurp—were as good at sucking dick as—ooh—this. Bate's cock definitely liked it. He could see it bulging and throbbing within Not-Pam's sheath.
Bate wondered if this was why Not-Pam looked like Pam. Did these aliens have minor telepathic abilities? Had she deliberately picked a form Bate would find attractive? It sounded plausible. He'd heard rumors that the aliens of H-space—HSIOs—were weirdly obsessed with sexual intercourse.
He'd also heard other stuff as well, but that stuff was so crazy he figured it had to be the other guys winding him up.
"This would be far better if you turned me right way up," Bate said. "I bet I'd be even bigger without the blood flowing to my head."
"Ah, but then Queen Sacculina would be unable to get at your ass," the girl on his left said.
My ass? Bate thought.
Not-Pam smiled at him. Then she opened her mouth.
It stretched wide... wider... far wider than any human mouth should go.
What. The. Fuck.
Something was coming out... pushing up from her throat... pushing out. It was another purple gelatinous tube, similar to the one that had emerged from Not-Pam's pussy. It was too big for her mouth. That didn't matter. Her mouth kept stretching until the opening took up most of her face and the rest of her features were scrunched up at the edges.
More and more of the slimy purple tube wormed up out of her mouth. It arced towards Bate. He knew its destination even before he felt its wet touch against his buttocks.
No way, Bate thought. No fucking way.
He squirmed and tried to shake it off. His movements served only to increase the stimulation her other tube was applying to his erection.
The girl to his right crouched down so her head was level with Bate's. "It's necessary to complete the cycle," she said.
Fuck your cycle, he thought. He kept twisting and turning.
Her other tube gave Bate's swollen glans a little squeeze that sent a flood of raw pleasure through him. The sensation was enough to make him forget what he was doing for a moment. In that moment the other tube slithered between his buttocks, nudged up against his sphincter and—covered in a thin layer of lubricating slime—squeezed its way inside.
During an adventurous phase back at college, Bate had experimented with letting his girlfriend use a butt plug on him. This felt the same and set up a pleasant feeling of fullness inside his anus that funneled down to his balls. At the same time, Not-Pam redoubled her attentions on his cock. The sucks and squeezes increased in intensity—and with it Bate's arousal.
"Look at your face," the other girl crouched down to say. There was a contemptuous smile on her lips. "And Queen Sacculina hasn't even started yet."
Not-Pam's face jerked as if on a fishing line. A series of bulges traveled up the pipe. As the first reached Bate's ass he felt a stretching sensation that was surprisingly pleasant. Something wet entered him and went off like a gooey bomb filled with rainbows and sparkles.
The other pipe kept squeezing, sucking, stroking Bate's cock. A ripple of peristaltic force ran through the soft gelatinous walls and tugged irresistibly at him.
Bate let out an incoherent moan of bliss as a second liquid bulge was squeezed into him and burst in a rainbow explosion of sensual bliss. His cock swelled against the soft walls of the other sheath and he spat an enormous load of cum into it. Not-Pam milked him expertly with her vagina tube until she'd drained—sucked out—the contents of his balls.
Bate had barely recovered from that ejaculation when another bubble of liquid bliss was squeezed into his ass and he erupted again in another mind-shattering climax. He watched milky bulges travel down the vagina sheath like eggs down the throat of a serpent. His cum.
And maybe something else.
At the same time, bulges traveling along the tube emerging from her mouth were pumped into Bate's ass, each gooey parcel spreading warmth and an incredible feeling of ecstasy throughout him.
It was as they said—a cycle. A perfect cycle. Her fluids pumped into him, and then his fluids pumped into her.
Or pumped out of him.
Bate didn't have to do anything. Just let her wonderful soft, gelatinous sheath tug, suck and squeeze him to release after wonderful release. His whole body, from his skin to deep within his insides, felt like one massive erogenous zone.
The two naked women were down on their knees and murmuring as if praying.
Bate understood. This was glorious... divine... transcendental. The gelatinous pipes squeezed and throbbed. Not-Pam squeezed the substance of her body into Bate, and drew the substance of his body out through his cock. By the time Bate might have wondered where the fluids to support all these constant, continuous ejaculations were coming from, Queen Sacculina's slime had reached and smothered his brain, submerging it and Bate's thoughts in a thick morass of unthinking animal lust. Her vagina tube kept sucking until she was drawing her own slime back into her body and Bate had been reduced to a hollowed-out bag of skin.
"Stewart, are you okay? Was it a bad one?"
"Yes, a really bad one."
A pause.
"You can pass this on to Command. Exploratory team Charlie and the squad sent to retrieve them can officially be declared lost."
Friday, June 16, 2017
H-game Translations by =Together=
So I received an email that appeared to be a blatant plug for someone's Patreon. After doing the obvious thing of immediately pressing delete...
"Translating Succubus Prison ~House of Lewd Demons~"
*pause deletion*
...after doing the obvious thing of reading and following the link to their Patreon, I decided to blog about it on the off chance of giving them a boost.
Here is a link to =Together='s Patreon site. They look to be a two-person team working on fan translations of various low-budget hentai games. Currently they're working on a translation for Succubus Prison ~House of Lewd Demons~. You can also find updates on their progress at this thread on ulmf.org.
I had a brief look at Succubus Prison ~House of Lewd Demons~ back here.
It looks like a typical RPG-maker RPG, but is actually more of a puzzle game where you have to escape a house occupied by a trio of succubi before they snu-snu you to death. It's a pretty good game and has some of the best Succubus Bad End H-scenes I've seen in any game. It's also very confusing and difficult to play without translation.
Readers may have noticed I don't blog about Monster Girl H-games as much as I used to. Since upgrading my laptop to Windows 10 I've had a helluva game trying to get any of them to work with the usual AGTH/Translation Aggregator combo I use for machine translation. I was only able to play Succubus Prison at all because I bought it early. Versions over 1.00 don't work with AGTH at all (at least on my machine). So I'm really happy to see someone is taking on an attempt to translate it.
The usual caveats with crowd-funding apply. There are always going to be scammers or idiots that think they can remake Monster Girl Quest as Skyrim with a dev team of one. Even projects with good intentions and sensible objectives can sometimes go awry. So always be careful to manage expectations before putting up your hard-earned cash.
That said, an English version of Succubus Prison would be awesome.
One last thing. Regardless of the form the translated files take, if you play it and like it, please be sure to support Tokinokogiri and buy their game. I'd rather they were happy to see attempts to make their game more accessible to the Western market rather than actively trying to sabotage them over fears of piracy (cough ROBF cough).
"Translating Succubus Prison ~House of Lewd Demons~"
*pause deletion*
...after doing the obvious thing of reading and following the link to their Patreon, I decided to blog about it on the off chance of giving them a boost.
Here is a link to =Together='s Patreon site. They look to be a two-person team working on fan translations of various low-budget hentai games. Currently they're working on a translation for Succubus Prison ~House of Lewd Demons~. You can also find updates on their progress at this thread on ulmf.org.
I had a brief look at Succubus Prison ~House of Lewd Demons~ back here.
It looks like a typical RPG-maker RPG, but is actually more of a puzzle game where you have to escape a house occupied by a trio of succubi before they snu-snu you to death. It's a pretty good game and has some of the best Succubus Bad End H-scenes I've seen in any game. It's also very confusing and difficult to play without translation.
Readers may have noticed I don't blog about Monster Girl H-games as much as I used to. Since upgrading my laptop to Windows 10 I've had a helluva game trying to get any of them to work with the usual AGTH/Translation Aggregator combo I use for machine translation. I was only able to play Succubus Prison at all because I bought it early. Versions over 1.00 don't work with AGTH at all (at least on my machine). So I'm really happy to see someone is taking on an attempt to translate it.
The usual caveats with crowd-funding apply. There are always going to be scammers or idiots that think they can remake Monster Girl Quest as Skyrim with a dev team of one. Even projects with good intentions and sensible objectives can sometimes go awry. So always be careful to manage expectations before putting up your hard-earned cash.
That said, an English version of Succubus Prison would be awesome.
One last thing. Regardless of the form the translated files take, if you play it and like it, please be sure to support Tokinokogiri and buy their game. I'd rather they were happy to see attempts to make their game more accessible to the Western market rather than actively trying to sabotage them over fears of piracy (cough ROBF cough).
Monday, June 12, 2017
A Reflection on my Past Views on #GamerGate and Other "Sins"
A mildly political post. If you're sick to death of these things (and I have mostly been avoiding posting them), feel free to backclick away and come back for the next H-space Monster Girl Bestiary story this weekend.
E3 was last weekend. One of the games that generated some initial buzz was an indie title called The Last Night. Here is its youtube trailer:
It looks very stylish and Blade Runner-esque. There was a lot of buzz about the visual aesthetic.
Then somebody did some digging and discovered that the game dev, Tim Soret, had said some vaguely supportive things about #GamerGate back in 2014. Cue shit show...
This made me think about some of the things I'd written in the past about #GamerGate, #SadPuppies and similar nontroversies. Would I in future also be dragged up to the drum and forced to account for my past comments? Not just comments - I'd even penned a short story depicting a #GamerGate protagonist in a vaguely sympathetic light. The heresy!
Surely, given that #GamerGate was a vicious misogynist campaign to drive women out of gaming (the media says so, so it must be true), I must be ashamed of my past self. That if it ever came to light, I'd have to disavow those past comments.
Okay, so I should address that now for my new readers.
Here it comes.
..
..
My views haven't changed at all.
Written games journalism is still infested with shitty horrible people more interested in student-level politics and stirring up shit rather than writing about computer games. If you want proper games coverage and reviews nowadays you're better off following the twitch streams/youtube channels of people like TotalBiscuit.
SJWs - with their hypocrisy, faulty logic, doxxing, harassment of creators, and other general toxicity - would occupy the position of biggest shitstains on social media if that spot wasn't already taken by ISIS.
My own personal opinion is I don't care what your sex, gender, race, sexual orientation, etc is. Everyone is equally deserving of respect as a human being.
That said, if you go around harassing people, or try to dictate what creators/artists can or can't create, I'm going to think you're a cunt, dick, ass, knob, penis, duodenum, [insert part of the human anatomy you wish to use as a slur] regardless of your sex, gender, race, sexual orientation, etc, etc.
Hope that makes things clear.
(and no, I don't want to drive women out of computer gaming)
E3 was last weekend. One of the games that generated some initial buzz was an indie title called The Last Night. Here is its youtube trailer:
It looks very stylish and Blade Runner-esque. There was a lot of buzz about the visual aesthetic.
Then somebody did some digging and discovered that the game dev, Tim Soret, had said some vaguely supportive things about #GamerGate back in 2014. Cue shit show...
This made me think about some of the things I'd written in the past about #GamerGate, #SadPuppies and similar nontroversies. Would I in future also be dragged up to the drum and forced to account for my past comments? Not just comments - I'd even penned a short story depicting a #GamerGate protagonist in a vaguely sympathetic light. The heresy!
Surely, given that #GamerGate was a vicious misogynist campaign to drive women out of gaming (the media says so, so it must be true), I must be ashamed of my past self. That if it ever came to light, I'd have to disavow those past comments.
Okay, so I should address that now for my new readers.
Here it comes.
..
..
My views haven't changed at all.
Written games journalism is still infested with shitty horrible people more interested in student-level politics and stirring up shit rather than writing about computer games. If you want proper games coverage and reviews nowadays you're better off following the twitch streams/youtube channels of people like TotalBiscuit.
SJWs - with their hypocrisy, faulty logic, doxxing, harassment of creators, and other general toxicity - would occupy the position of biggest shitstains on social media if that spot wasn't already taken by ISIS.
My own personal opinion is I don't care what your sex, gender, race, sexual orientation, etc is. Everyone is equally deserving of respect as a human being.
That said, if you go around harassing people, or try to dictate what creators/artists can or can't create, I'm going to think you're a cunt, dick, ass, knob, penis, duodenum, [insert part of the human anatomy you wish to use as a slur] regardless of your sex, gender, race, sexual orientation, etc, etc.
Hope that makes things clear.
(and no, I don't want to drive women out of computer gaming)
Friday, June 09, 2017
More Succubus Summoning Art - Verdé
Some more delicious Succubus Summoning art. This time Verdé:
And also completely nude.
Come in close for a hug. What could possibly go wrong...
Once again thanks to RaidouZERO for drawing it, and Jude Duval/LudedWolf for commissioning it.
(At some point I will get off my ass and start commissioning pieces of the H-space monster girls!)
Tuesday, June 06, 2017
H-space MGB Profile: Sun Lamia
Name: Sun Lamia
Type: Lamia (Slime?)
Habitat: Cave Ruins.
Description:
A snake girl with the upper body of an exotic belly dancer. Or a slime girl currently taking the form of a snake girl. Personally, I lead towards the former. While the sun lamia appears to have a soft, gelatinous body, she displays none of the plasticity of form observed in other slime girl HSIOs.
The fluid, or jelly, that makes up her body is clear yellow in colour and radiates both heat and light.
Attack Strategy:
Multiple, and targeting different senses.
At long ranges the sun lamia can release a flash of light from her eyes that can both temporarily blind and stun.
At closer ranges the sun lamia breathes out thick clouds of gas that increase arousal and take away the will to fight. They also have a dance that has a mesmeric effect on onlookers.
All of this is to enable the lamia to get close enough to wrap her coils around her prey. Unlike an Earth constrictor, this is to deny movement rather than oxygen. The sun lamia uses her serpentine body to lock her captive's limbs in such a way they are unable to move or offer any resistance once the effects of her aphrodisiac breath wear off. With her prey immobilised, the sun lamia instigates oral sex with them. At the point of orgasm she sucks out her prey's soul.
(At this point I don't care if my colleagues consider the concept of a soul to be unscientific, or even heretical. Some HSIOs, like the sun lamia, are capable of extracting some kind of animating spark from human beings at the point of sexual climax. We have examined the victims—either dead or in a coma. There isn't a single decent medical reason for them to be in this state.)
Countermeasures:
As there has only been one encounter with this type of HSIO, what follows is conjecture and theory.
Gas masks or nasal filters might negate her breath, assuming the drug compounds present within it are not absorbed through the skin.
Polarised filters might negate her eye flashes. There have been some successes in experimentation versus lesser HSIOs with similar disabling attacks.
My concern is that she almost certainly possesses other offensive capabilities we are as of yet still unaware of. The limited intel we have puts the only individual encountered in a similar power class to some of the higher tier succubi or demon HSIOs.
Also, while her body has been described as being soft, I would expect the sun lamia to have similar regenerative abilities as other high-threat HSIOs.
Threat Level:
High (Medium?).
The only individual encountered appears to have been very old and powerful. It is unknown whether other sun lamia are this dangerous.
Type: Lamia (Slime?)
Habitat: Cave Ruins.
Description:
A snake girl with the upper body of an exotic belly dancer. Or a slime girl currently taking the form of a snake girl. Personally, I lead towards the former. While the sun lamia appears to have a soft, gelatinous body, she displays none of the plasticity of form observed in other slime girl HSIOs.
The fluid, or jelly, that makes up her body is clear yellow in colour and radiates both heat and light.
Attack Strategy:
Multiple, and targeting different senses.
At long ranges the sun lamia can release a flash of light from her eyes that can both temporarily blind and stun.
At closer ranges the sun lamia breathes out thick clouds of gas that increase arousal and take away the will to fight. They also have a dance that has a mesmeric effect on onlookers.
All of this is to enable the lamia to get close enough to wrap her coils around her prey. Unlike an Earth constrictor, this is to deny movement rather than oxygen. The sun lamia uses her serpentine body to lock her captive's limbs in such a way they are unable to move or offer any resistance once the effects of her aphrodisiac breath wear off. With her prey immobilised, the sun lamia instigates oral sex with them. At the point of orgasm she sucks out her prey's soul.
(At this point I don't care if my colleagues consider the concept of a soul to be unscientific, or even heretical. Some HSIOs, like the sun lamia, are capable of extracting some kind of animating spark from human beings at the point of sexual climax. We have examined the victims—either dead or in a coma. There isn't a single decent medical reason for them to be in this state.)
Countermeasures:
As there has only been one encounter with this type of HSIO, what follows is conjecture and theory.
Gas masks or nasal filters might negate her breath, assuming the drug compounds present within it are not absorbed through the skin.
Polarised filters might negate her eye flashes. There have been some successes in experimentation versus lesser HSIOs with similar disabling attacks.
My concern is that she almost certainly possesses other offensive capabilities we are as of yet still unaware of. The limited intel we have puts the only individual encountered in a similar power class to some of the higher tier succubi or demon HSIOs.
Also, while her body has been described as being soft, I would expect the sun lamia to have similar regenerative abilities as other high-threat HSIOs.
Threat Level:
High (Medium?).
The only individual encountered appears to have been very old and powerful. It is unknown whether other sun lamia are this dangerous.
Saturday, June 03, 2017
Friday, May 26, 2017
Random H-Game Musing
Every so often I go through a frenzy of brainstorming game ideas. Unfortunately it rarely amounts to anything as I don't have the requisite skill set to bring these ideas to fruition. However, by posting them here it might inspire someone who does.
One of the things I've been thinking about is a roguelite monster girl H-game with randomly generated dungeons. Fenoxo's Corruption of Champions already does this really well. There is no complex world map here - you head to a location and are presented with a random encounter, some of which open up further locations for exploration. This is a great example of abstract, extensible game design. If Fenoxo (or one of their writers) wants to add further scenarios, all they have to do is create the scenario and then slot it into the list of random encounters for a location. No massive rewrite of the whole game engine required (at least I assume so).
I really like the puzzle H-battles of Monster Girl Quest, but creating a whole Monster Girl Quest is a fuckload of work. I think an approach that could work is to create a more open game framework that can be extended easily with new encounters. Most roguelites/likes function on this principle - the dungeon is randomly generated each run from a series of building blocks.
Why not RNG the encounters like every other JRPG? Now, this is where, for me personally, Monmusu Quest: Paradox is weaker than Monster Girl Quest. JRPGs are a notoriously grindy game genre. The first time you encounter a new enemy is cool; the thirteenth time when you're just trying to run through to the next location, not so. Combat typically devolves to trying to bash the mooks off the screen as fast as possible. This is where Monster Girl Quest could get away with stretching out the fights with all kinds of delicious bondage holds. You only had to fight each monster girl once. If you really liked the fight (and Bad End) you could revisit it in the Monsterpedia.
One of the roguelite elements I think could work is a card-based encounter system. Camel uses a card-based mechanic to abstract dungeon-crawling in his Card Quest series (knowing what abstraction is and when to use it will save a lot of fledgling game designers/developers a ton of pain). I think this could be taken further to give the player some choice over the dungeons they romp in.
Hand of Fate is a good example from the mainstream gaming world. Here is TotalBiscuit's WTF is review of the game, which also gives an overview of the mechanics:
The player starts each quest with an equipment deck and an encounter deck. The dungeon floors are laid out as a random combination from both the player's and dealer's encounter decks. The player starts each run with just basic equipment. During the run they can buy or find better equipment - but only equipment cards that are present in their equipment deck.
I'm a big fan of strategy card games (like Magic: the Gathering) and the concept of tailoring your decks to "beat" the dealer's dungeon sounded very appealing. As it is, Hand of Fate doesn't quite play out like this. They have an interesting way of implementing side quests in that completing certain cards' scenarios will reward the player with a token, and this token unlocks the next card in the quest line at the end of the run. But the strategy element of the player customising their own deck is fairly weak - most of the time you run with the AI's default configuration anyway.
While I was playing around with potential stats for gamebook ideas, the three that seemed to have most potential were strength, agility and willpower. Depending on which the player specialised in, some monster girl encounters would be more or less difficult. As an example I thought up three lamia types - muscular, fast, hypnotic.
Muscular is slow, but if she ever gets her coils around you, you're never breaking out. Agile characters get the advantage as they just dodge her slow attacks.
Fast is... well... fast. But she's slender enough that her coils can be struggled out of. Strength characters get the advantage here.
And finally Willpower character gets the advantage vs Hypnotic Lamia. She's slow and weak, so she relies on hypnotising her opponent with sexy dancing so they don't resist her as she has her fun with them.
Coming back to a card system of dungeon layout. The player has some control over the encounters. If they have a low-Agility character they would want to customise their encounter deck so it didn't contain the Muscular Lamia that would likely be Bad End the moment they encountered her.
Or, and this is where it becomes really important for a monster girl sex game, the scenario of being dominated and squeezed in the coils of a powerful, sexy snake queen might be a major turn-on for that particular player, and they want her in the deck for the fun times when she shows up (and losing in these games is part of the fun anyway).
The reverse is also true. If the player is squicked out by vore, they'll want those nopey Eater monster girls banished as far away from their deck of encounters as possible. I think that's also a good thing for any H-game that's going to cover a very broad base of fetishes.
I think this concept could work really well. It's also really extensible. Dream up a new cool monster girl concept? Create a scenario card for her and into the game she goes without changing anything else.
Main problem is getting that framework right. And this is where I always screw up by making things too complex. I really want to make the fights more interesting than player hits monster for 5 damage, monster hits player back for 4 damage, repeat until someone reaches 0 hit points. I think Monster Girl Quest really got it right with the various bind and status attacks. Unfortunately, taking that too far can end up getting a little out of hand - like I did with this Arachne scenario I plotted out for a potential GameBook idea.
So I dunno.
Figuring out the player character stat line is important.
Figuring out what rewards/unlocks the player earns after each run is important.
Figuring out how the fights work is really really important.
I think the fighting is the key part. If I'm running mainly text-based to start, the other scenarios are multi-choice questions and stats tests wrapped up in sexy descriptive fluff. The fight encounters determine the mechanics. Is it sex-on-sex battlefuck, normal-on-sex like MGQ, or full-on puzzles with the player character trying to work out how to get to the next room without being caught and snu-snued to Bad End?
Figure that out and I suspect the rest starts to drop into place.
One of the things I've been thinking about is a roguelite monster girl H-game with randomly generated dungeons. Fenoxo's Corruption of Champions already does this really well. There is no complex world map here - you head to a location and are presented with a random encounter, some of which open up further locations for exploration. This is a great example of abstract, extensible game design. If Fenoxo (or one of their writers) wants to add further scenarios, all they have to do is create the scenario and then slot it into the list of random encounters for a location. No massive rewrite of the whole game engine required (at least I assume so).
I really like the puzzle H-battles of Monster Girl Quest, but creating a whole Monster Girl Quest is a fuckload of work. I think an approach that could work is to create a more open game framework that can be extended easily with new encounters. Most roguelites/likes function on this principle - the dungeon is randomly generated each run from a series of building blocks.
Why not RNG the encounters like every other JRPG? Now, this is where, for me personally, Monmusu Quest: Paradox is weaker than Monster Girl Quest. JRPGs are a notoriously grindy game genre. The first time you encounter a new enemy is cool; the thirteenth time when you're just trying to run through to the next location, not so. Combat typically devolves to trying to bash the mooks off the screen as fast as possible. This is where Monster Girl Quest could get away with stretching out the fights with all kinds of delicious bondage holds. You only had to fight each monster girl once. If you really liked the fight (and Bad End) you could revisit it in the Monsterpedia.
One of the roguelite elements I think could work is a card-based encounter system. Camel uses a card-based mechanic to abstract dungeon-crawling in his Card Quest series (knowing what abstraction is and when to use it will save a lot of fledgling game designers/developers a ton of pain). I think this could be taken further to give the player some choice over the dungeons they romp in.
Hand of Fate is a good example from the mainstream gaming world. Here is TotalBiscuit's WTF is review of the game, which also gives an overview of the mechanics:
The player starts each quest with an equipment deck and an encounter deck. The dungeon floors are laid out as a random combination from both the player's and dealer's encounter decks. The player starts each run with just basic equipment. During the run they can buy or find better equipment - but only equipment cards that are present in their equipment deck.
I'm a big fan of strategy card games (like Magic: the Gathering) and the concept of tailoring your decks to "beat" the dealer's dungeon sounded very appealing. As it is, Hand of Fate doesn't quite play out like this. They have an interesting way of implementing side quests in that completing certain cards' scenarios will reward the player with a token, and this token unlocks the next card in the quest line at the end of the run. But the strategy element of the player customising their own deck is fairly weak - most of the time you run with the AI's default configuration anyway.
While I was playing around with potential stats for gamebook ideas, the three that seemed to have most potential were strength, agility and willpower. Depending on which the player specialised in, some monster girl encounters would be more or less difficult. As an example I thought up three lamia types - muscular, fast, hypnotic.
Muscular is slow, but if she ever gets her coils around you, you're never breaking out. Agile characters get the advantage as they just dodge her slow attacks.
Fast is... well... fast. But she's slender enough that her coils can be struggled out of. Strength characters get the advantage here.
And finally Willpower character gets the advantage vs Hypnotic Lamia. She's slow and weak, so she relies on hypnotising her opponent with sexy dancing so they don't resist her as she has her fun with them.
Coming back to a card system of dungeon layout. The player has some control over the encounters. If they have a low-Agility character they would want to customise their encounter deck so it didn't contain the Muscular Lamia that would likely be Bad End the moment they encountered her.
Or, and this is where it becomes really important for a monster girl sex game, the scenario of being dominated and squeezed in the coils of a powerful, sexy snake queen might be a major turn-on for that particular player, and they want her in the deck for the fun times when she shows up (and losing in these games is part of the fun anyway).
The reverse is also true. If the player is squicked out by vore, they'll want those nopey Eater monster girls banished as far away from their deck of encounters as possible. I think that's also a good thing for any H-game that's going to cover a very broad base of fetishes.
I think this concept could work really well. It's also really extensible. Dream up a new cool monster girl concept? Create a scenario card for her and into the game she goes without changing anything else.
Main problem is getting that framework right. And this is where I always screw up by making things too complex. I really want to make the fights more interesting than player hits monster for 5 damage, monster hits player back for 4 damage, repeat until someone reaches 0 hit points. I think Monster Girl Quest really got it right with the various bind and status attacks. Unfortunately, taking that too far can end up getting a little out of hand - like I did with this Arachne scenario I plotted out for a potential GameBook idea.
So I dunno.
Figuring out the player character stat line is important.
Figuring out what rewards/unlocks the player earns after each run is important.
Figuring out how the fights work is really really important.
I think the fighting is the key part. If I'm running mainly text-based to start, the other scenarios are multi-choice questions and stats tests wrapped up in sexy descriptive fluff. The fight encounters determine the mechanics. Is it sex-on-sex battlefuck, normal-on-sex like MGQ, or full-on puzzles with the player character trying to work out how to get to the next room without being caught and snu-snued to Bad End?
Figure that out and I suspect the rest starts to drop into place.
Monday, May 22, 2017
H-space MGB Profile: Interrogatrix Shell
Name: Interrogatrix Shell
Type: Scylla
Habitat: Unknown
Description:
A kind of shellfish woman. The woman part is humanoid above the waist, but far too alien to ever be mistaken for human. Their eyes are octopoidal—yellow, with vertical barbell-shaped pupils. They have long fleshy tubes in place of hair. They have a nose, but it seems purely cosmetic. Respiration is carried out through three breathing holes located on either side of their neck, just below their pointed ears.
Below the waist their body merges into a complex knot of thick rubbery tubes. Some tubes terminate in bioluminescent light sacs that light up the inside of the shell. Others terminate in strange structures that resemble part of a human face—just the mouth and jaws, the rest of the head is absent. The interrogatrix shell uses these false mouths to drive her captives into a state of sensual ecstasy.
The interrogatrix shell's body is housed within a shell large enough to contain both her and an adult human male. Currently we do not know what the outer shell looks like as none have been found or observed in the wild. It is even possible the interrogatrix shell is some kind of mimic.
Attack Strategy:
The HSIOs use interrogatrix shells to extract information and secrets from their enemies. Once a person is placed within her shell, the interrogatrix wraps her soft body around them to hold them immobile. Interrogatrix shells appear able to produce various complex drugs that have a variety of effects on human physiology, including increased sexual arousal, euphoric feelings of bliss, and a heightened susceptibility to suggestion. These drugs are administered through both mouth-to-mouth contact with one of the interrogatrix shell's false mouths, and as an aerosol exhaled by other mouths. The closed confines of the shell enable rapid build-up of the drug in the air.
The interrogatrix also uses her false mouths to stimulate her captive's erogenous zones by licking or sucking on them. Once the captive is sufficiently aroused the interrogatrix shell straddles their body with her upper female half and initiates sexual intercourse. Sex in this case is used to break the will of her captive through overwhelming sensual ecstasy rather than for procreation. The orgasms are amplified to the point that even strong-willed persons are enslaved by the pleasure. From this point onwards her captive will do whatever and reveal whatever the interrogatrix shell asks them. As we have never recovered anyone enslaved by an interrogatrix shell, it is unknown whether or not this enslavement of will is reversible.
Countermeasures:
Don't get caught by one…?
Really, I'm not sure what's expected here.
We know next to nothing about this HSIO.
When I was commissioned to carry out these studies it was with the assumption I'd be documenting the various flora and fauna of H-space. At this point I think it would be a grave mistake to regard the HSIOs as just alien flora and fauna. This is an opposing enemy force. The various HSIOs are its weapons and should be documented as such.
Threat Level:
Unknown.
I think we have to assume that any person captured and handed to an interrogatrix shell will reveal everything they know. God help us if they ever get hold of one of our critical command or research personnel.
Type: Scylla
Habitat: Unknown
Description:
A kind of shellfish woman. The woman part is humanoid above the waist, but far too alien to ever be mistaken for human. Their eyes are octopoidal—yellow, with vertical barbell-shaped pupils. They have long fleshy tubes in place of hair. They have a nose, but it seems purely cosmetic. Respiration is carried out through three breathing holes located on either side of their neck, just below their pointed ears.
Below the waist their body merges into a complex knot of thick rubbery tubes. Some tubes terminate in bioluminescent light sacs that light up the inside of the shell. Others terminate in strange structures that resemble part of a human face—just the mouth and jaws, the rest of the head is absent. The interrogatrix shell uses these false mouths to drive her captives into a state of sensual ecstasy.
The interrogatrix shell's body is housed within a shell large enough to contain both her and an adult human male. Currently we do not know what the outer shell looks like as none have been found or observed in the wild. It is even possible the interrogatrix shell is some kind of mimic.
Attack Strategy:
The HSIOs use interrogatrix shells to extract information and secrets from their enemies. Once a person is placed within her shell, the interrogatrix wraps her soft body around them to hold them immobile. Interrogatrix shells appear able to produce various complex drugs that have a variety of effects on human physiology, including increased sexual arousal, euphoric feelings of bliss, and a heightened susceptibility to suggestion. These drugs are administered through both mouth-to-mouth contact with one of the interrogatrix shell's false mouths, and as an aerosol exhaled by other mouths. The closed confines of the shell enable rapid build-up of the drug in the air.
The interrogatrix also uses her false mouths to stimulate her captive's erogenous zones by licking or sucking on them. Once the captive is sufficiently aroused the interrogatrix shell straddles their body with her upper female half and initiates sexual intercourse. Sex in this case is used to break the will of her captive through overwhelming sensual ecstasy rather than for procreation. The orgasms are amplified to the point that even strong-willed persons are enslaved by the pleasure. From this point onwards her captive will do whatever and reveal whatever the interrogatrix shell asks them. As we have never recovered anyone enslaved by an interrogatrix shell, it is unknown whether or not this enslavement of will is reversible.
Countermeasures:
Don't get caught by one…?
Really, I'm not sure what's expected here.
We know next to nothing about this HSIO.
When I was commissioned to carry out these studies it was with the assumption I'd be documenting the various flora and fauna of H-space. At this point I think it would be a grave mistake to regard the HSIOs as just alien flora and fauna. This is an opposing enemy force. The various HSIOs are its weapons and should be documented as such.
Threat Level:
Unknown.
I think we have to assume that any person captured and handed to an interrogatrix shell will reveal everything they know. God help us if they ever get hold of one of our critical command or research personnel.
Saturday, May 20, 2017
H-space MGB Story: Interrogatrix Shell
When LT Stewart Peter Bate woke up to the sound of low, soft murmurs, his first thought was that he was back at home in bed, snuggled up with his darling Erica. But his lovely Erica—from a good family, maybe a little too prim and proper for her own good—had never sounded so wanton... so in need, sexually.
The bed Bate was lying in was also soft, too soft. Soft, squishy and moist. He couldn't move his limbs either. They felt weighted down and tangled up as if some kind of monstrous python was coiled around each limb. And the smell...
"Mmm, you're awake."
Bate opened his eyes. He was lying on, or in, some kind of nightmare. Raw, oozing flesh squirmed all around him. Fleshy tubes, pinkish-white in color, surrounded and entangled his limbs like a nest of peeled snakes. Rising above it all and straddling Bate at the waist was the monster woman.
She had the body of a nude pinup, or maybe even one of those ridiculously busty anime girls made flesh. Both her bust and hips were pronounced and curvy, but there was not a trace of excess fat anywhere else on her body.
She was also clearly a monster. Her skin was the wrong shade of pink—pallid, sickly, like squirming invertebrates—and covered in a wet sheen of slime. She had no hair. Instead, a mass of tubular tentacles cascaded over her shoulders. Each terminated in a blind maw. Similar openings were present on the side of her neck, just below her pointed ears. They contracted and dilated as if she was breathing through them. Her face was pretty enough—finely sculpted, with luscious full lips—if you ignored her eyes. They were yellow and had vertical barbell-shaped pupils like those of an octopus.
He was still in H-space, Bate realized.
And in the clutches of one of the hindigs.
"Mmm, such a nice body," the hindig straddling him said.
She kept making slutty mmm-ing sounds as she caressed his exposed chest with her hand. It felt as warm and as soft as a loving woman's hand. The trail of slime it left on Bate's skin, less so.
Bate struggled. The thick muscular bonds coiled around his limbs, that he'd first taken for snakes until he'd realized they were too soft... too squishy, pulled tighter and tighter until Bate could barely move at all.
"Don't do that," the woman that looked like raw shellfish said. Her plump lips bunched up in an insouciant pout. "My flesh is soft and delicate."
What did she mean—her flesh? Was all this part of her body? In the dim light he could see she was straddling him, but he couldn't see any legs, or even where her body ended and the fleshy mass he was lying in began.
Where was he? He felt enclosed. Looking up he saw some kind of ceiling, so low down it was just above the hindig's head. It was inlaid with what looked like mother-of-pearl, but wrong in some fashion Bate couldn't quite put his finger on, only that it gave him a queasy feeling in the bottom of his guts. He saw that the ceiling curved around on either side so that both of them appeared to be inside some kind of pod or shell. The dim light was provided by glowing bulbs on the end of tubular stalks. They looked organic in nature.
Bate continued to flex against his bonds. What he lay in had a similar rubbery strength and texture to viscera. Or maybe octopi; he remembered some he'd caught while diving. Maybe it was part of her. Maybe it was her internals. Maybe it was delicate. Maybe he could hurt her.
He gripped and twisted and tugged whatever he could close his hands around.
The only moans the hindig let out were sexual in nature. She gave a low chuckle.
Delicate, my ass! Bate thought. Her flesh might have felt soft and squishy, but he couldn't rip or tear it at all.
The hindig laughed at his efforts. "You squirm so much. It's ticklish."
Bate had never felt so helpless.
"What do you want?" he demanded.
"Not much, just a little information," the monster girl replied. Her yellow eyes were bright in the gloom.
"Fuck off," Bate said.
"Oh, you will give it me," she said. "It's just a case of getting you in the right mood."
Squirming motion started up all around Bate. He tried to turn his head, and when that motion was denied him, flicked his eyes to the left and right. Dripping with slime, pink tubes rose up out of the wriggling mass of flesh. Incongruously, each terminated in part of a human face. Only part. The top of the head, from the nose upwards had been neatly sliced off, leaving behind only mouths lined with full, feminine lips. Despite missing everything else, the lips still turned up in sultry knowing smiles, still pouted as if to kiss, still whispered lewd suggestions to Bate.
"wakeupwakeupwakeupwakeup," Bate muttered over and over like a mantra.
This coffin of squirming horrors couldn't be real. It had to be a nightmare.
"Why would you want to wake from a dream as sweet as this," the monster girl whispered.
The disenfaced mouths dipped down on Bate's body. He felt their soft lips brush and sigh against his exposed flesh. He felt stiff little tongues flicking his nipples. He even felt one wriggle underneath him and use its tongue to probe around the sensitive rim of his anus.
Two mouths reared up on either side of Bate's head. They puckered full red lips and exhaled clouds of perfumed smoke into his face. Bate tried holding his breath. It was useless. They were in a contained space; the gas—whatever it was—wasn't going anywhere. He had to take a breath sometime, and when he did it was laced with the drugged gas.
The effect was immediate. Bate felt a pleasant tingling all over. His vision went fuzzy... soft focus. Like one of those old softcore movies where they used to smear Vaseline on the lens.
The form of the monstrous woman straddling him blurred and shifted. She became the busty pinup teenaged Bate had seen once in a very old skin mag and went on to become the focus of much of his carnal nighttime imaginings. Now she was sitting astride him... sitting astride his naked form.
She'd also brought friends. He felt the soft press of their lips—kissing... suckling... He felt their wet little tongues—licking... tickling... But he couldn't see them, even the one that pressed warm lips against his and locked tongues in a passionate kiss.
He couldn't see her because the top half of her head wasn't there.
Bate blinked furiously.
Fantasy, don't fall for the fantasy.
Her lips formed a seal around his mouth. The fleshy tube the faceless mouth had in place of a throat swelled and a sweet-tasting liquid was regurgitated into Bate's mouth. He had to swallow and the fleshy tube throbbed and pulsed as more of the liquid was pumped down his throat. The drug flowed into his bloodstream and he felt warm and pleasantly tingly all over.
"Relax" the pinup astride him said. "We do not use pain to extract information here. We give our captives love and pleasure, and in turn they offer up—freely—their secrets."
She let her weight settle on Bate's lap. His burgeoning erection was drawn up into her and enclosed in warm quivering flesh.
He was fucking her...
...fucking this monster.
And it felt good, really good.
The soft walls of her sex undulated against his cock in slow, peristaltic waves. She added to the sensation with slow, sensual up-and-down movements of her hips.
"You'll tell me everything, won't you?" she asked him sweetly. She clutched and squeezed her large tits as she rose up and down on him.
No, he mustn't.
"I'll make you feel so good... so nice." She finished with a low sensual moan.
Her mouth tube continued to pour drugged fluid down Bate's throat. Other mouths blew warm scented air into his face. Others were all over his body—kissing, licking. He felt them gently sucking on his fingers and toes. One even had a stiff tongue wriggling away in his ass. He writhed helplessly in the bed of quivering meat as she stroked and licked and sucked him to higher pinnacles of ecstasy.
"You don't have to hold back," she whispered.
Her whole body throbbed in time to the muscular pulses squeezing Bate's cock. The openings in her neck swelled and contracted. Her big bust rose up and down. It felt like she was putting her whole body into sucking on his member. Chest, hips, stomach—everything moving in and out as if she was taking in deep breaths... deep breaths of him.
"Just let it all out, let everything out into me."
Her soft body flexed and Bate couldn't hold out any longer. He came with a loud gasp.
"Yessss," she hissed in triumph. "Give me everything."
Bate felt his cock swell against the pressure of her walls and then the overwhelming bliss of release as he spurted his semen inside her. On and on it flowed. Her body kept working, kept throbbing, kept sucking, kept urging. Enslaved by it, Bate gave her everything.
Then, once the jangling sparkling tremors of orgasmic bliss had subsided enough for him to regain some control of his body, Bate told her everything she wanted to know.
"This is very bad, Stewart, very bad. We never thought the HSIOs had the capability or even the desire to question the men they've taken like this. And if they get access to one of the senior research staff here they could... No. It doesn't bear thinking about. Command must be informed of this. Now tell me again exactly what the lieutenant told her..."
The bed Bate was lying in was also soft, too soft. Soft, squishy and moist. He couldn't move his limbs either. They felt weighted down and tangled up as if some kind of monstrous python was coiled around each limb. And the smell...
"Mmm, you're awake."
Bate opened his eyes. He was lying on, or in, some kind of nightmare. Raw, oozing flesh squirmed all around him. Fleshy tubes, pinkish-white in color, surrounded and entangled his limbs like a nest of peeled snakes. Rising above it all and straddling Bate at the waist was the monster woman.
She had the body of a nude pinup, or maybe even one of those ridiculously busty anime girls made flesh. Both her bust and hips were pronounced and curvy, but there was not a trace of excess fat anywhere else on her body.
She was also clearly a monster. Her skin was the wrong shade of pink—pallid, sickly, like squirming invertebrates—and covered in a wet sheen of slime. She had no hair. Instead, a mass of tubular tentacles cascaded over her shoulders. Each terminated in a blind maw. Similar openings were present on the side of her neck, just below her pointed ears. They contracted and dilated as if she was breathing through them. Her face was pretty enough—finely sculpted, with luscious full lips—if you ignored her eyes. They were yellow and had vertical barbell-shaped pupils like those of an octopus.
He was still in H-space, Bate realized.
And in the clutches of one of the hindigs.
"Mmm, such a nice body," the hindig straddling him said.
She kept making slutty mmm-ing sounds as she caressed his exposed chest with her hand. It felt as warm and as soft as a loving woman's hand. The trail of slime it left on Bate's skin, less so.
Bate struggled. The thick muscular bonds coiled around his limbs, that he'd first taken for snakes until he'd realized they were too soft... too squishy, pulled tighter and tighter until Bate could barely move at all.
"Don't do that," the woman that looked like raw shellfish said. Her plump lips bunched up in an insouciant pout. "My flesh is soft and delicate."
What did she mean—her flesh? Was all this part of her body? In the dim light he could see she was straddling him, but he couldn't see any legs, or even where her body ended and the fleshy mass he was lying in began.
Where was he? He felt enclosed. Looking up he saw some kind of ceiling, so low down it was just above the hindig's head. It was inlaid with what looked like mother-of-pearl, but wrong in some fashion Bate couldn't quite put his finger on, only that it gave him a queasy feeling in the bottom of his guts. He saw that the ceiling curved around on either side so that both of them appeared to be inside some kind of pod or shell. The dim light was provided by glowing bulbs on the end of tubular stalks. They looked organic in nature.
Bate continued to flex against his bonds. What he lay in had a similar rubbery strength and texture to viscera. Or maybe octopi; he remembered some he'd caught while diving. Maybe it was part of her. Maybe it was her internals. Maybe it was delicate. Maybe he could hurt her.
He gripped and twisted and tugged whatever he could close his hands around.
The only moans the hindig let out were sexual in nature. She gave a low chuckle.
Delicate, my ass! Bate thought. Her flesh might have felt soft and squishy, but he couldn't rip or tear it at all.
The hindig laughed at his efforts. "You squirm so much. It's ticklish."
Bate had never felt so helpless.
"What do you want?" he demanded.
"Not much, just a little information," the monster girl replied. Her yellow eyes were bright in the gloom.
"Fuck off," Bate said.
"Oh, you will give it me," she said. "It's just a case of getting you in the right mood."
Squirming motion started up all around Bate. He tried to turn his head, and when that motion was denied him, flicked his eyes to the left and right. Dripping with slime, pink tubes rose up out of the wriggling mass of flesh. Incongruously, each terminated in part of a human face. Only part. The top of the head, from the nose upwards had been neatly sliced off, leaving behind only mouths lined with full, feminine lips. Despite missing everything else, the lips still turned up in sultry knowing smiles, still pouted as if to kiss, still whispered lewd suggestions to Bate.
"wakeupwakeupwakeupwakeup," Bate muttered over and over like a mantra.
This coffin of squirming horrors couldn't be real. It had to be a nightmare.
"Why would you want to wake from a dream as sweet as this," the monster girl whispered.
The disenfaced mouths dipped down on Bate's body. He felt their soft lips brush and sigh against his exposed flesh. He felt stiff little tongues flicking his nipples. He even felt one wriggle underneath him and use its tongue to probe around the sensitive rim of his anus.
Two mouths reared up on either side of Bate's head. They puckered full red lips and exhaled clouds of perfumed smoke into his face. Bate tried holding his breath. It was useless. They were in a contained space; the gas—whatever it was—wasn't going anywhere. He had to take a breath sometime, and when he did it was laced with the drugged gas.
The effect was immediate. Bate felt a pleasant tingling all over. His vision went fuzzy... soft focus. Like one of those old softcore movies where they used to smear Vaseline on the lens.
The form of the monstrous woman straddling him blurred and shifted. She became the busty pinup teenaged Bate had seen once in a very old skin mag and went on to become the focus of much of his carnal nighttime imaginings. Now she was sitting astride him... sitting astride his naked form.
She'd also brought friends. He felt the soft press of their lips—kissing... suckling... He felt their wet little tongues—licking... tickling... But he couldn't see them, even the one that pressed warm lips against his and locked tongues in a passionate kiss.
He couldn't see her because the top half of her head wasn't there.
Bate blinked furiously.
Fantasy, don't fall for the fantasy.
Her lips formed a seal around his mouth. The fleshy tube the faceless mouth had in place of a throat swelled and a sweet-tasting liquid was regurgitated into Bate's mouth. He had to swallow and the fleshy tube throbbed and pulsed as more of the liquid was pumped down his throat. The drug flowed into his bloodstream and he felt warm and pleasantly tingly all over.
"Relax" the pinup astride him said. "We do not use pain to extract information here. We give our captives love and pleasure, and in turn they offer up—freely—their secrets."
She let her weight settle on Bate's lap. His burgeoning erection was drawn up into her and enclosed in warm quivering flesh.
He was fucking her...
...fucking this monster.
And it felt good, really good.
The soft walls of her sex undulated against his cock in slow, peristaltic waves. She added to the sensation with slow, sensual up-and-down movements of her hips.
"You'll tell me everything, won't you?" she asked him sweetly. She clutched and squeezed her large tits as she rose up and down on him.
No, he mustn't.
"I'll make you feel so good... so nice." She finished with a low sensual moan.
Her mouth tube continued to pour drugged fluid down Bate's throat. Other mouths blew warm scented air into his face. Others were all over his body—kissing, licking. He felt them gently sucking on his fingers and toes. One even had a stiff tongue wriggling away in his ass. He writhed helplessly in the bed of quivering meat as she stroked and licked and sucked him to higher pinnacles of ecstasy.
"You don't have to hold back," she whispered.
Her whole body throbbed in time to the muscular pulses squeezing Bate's cock. The openings in her neck swelled and contracted. Her big bust rose up and down. It felt like she was putting her whole body into sucking on his member. Chest, hips, stomach—everything moving in and out as if she was taking in deep breaths... deep breaths of him.
"Just let it all out, let everything out into me."
Her soft body flexed and Bate couldn't hold out any longer. He came with a loud gasp.
"Yessss," she hissed in triumph. "Give me everything."
Bate felt his cock swell against the pressure of her walls and then the overwhelming bliss of release as he spurted his semen inside her. On and on it flowed. Her body kept working, kept throbbing, kept sucking, kept urging. Enslaved by it, Bate gave her everything.
Then, once the jangling sparkling tremors of orgasmic bliss had subsided enough for him to regain some control of his body, Bate told her everything she wanted to know.
"This is very bad, Stewart, very bad. We never thought the HSIOs had the capability or even the desire to question the men they've taken like this. And if they get access to one of the senior research staff here they could... No. It doesn't bear thinking about. Command must be informed of this. Now tell me again exactly what the lieutenant told her..."
Saturday, May 13, 2017
"Sandwiched by Stomachs" is out!
I've been inactive for a while, but now it's time to get the ball rolling again. If you've been enjoying the H-space monster girl bestiary stories I've been posting recently, I have a treat for you. "Sandwiched by Stomachs" is more of the same weirdness, but over a much longer length and in greater explicit detail.
You can get it for the low, low price of $0.99/£0.99 from:
Amazon
Smashwords
Kobo
(and other retailers through Smashwords)
Here's the blurb:
Sandwiched by is a sexy series of monster girl erotic horror shorts from the master of dark erotica, M. E. Hydra. The fifth in the series, “Sandwiched by Stomachs”, sees a man ensnared by the stomachs of a very unusual... and hungry... demon girl.
CPL Maynard Mayo is stationed in the alien dimension known as H-space. While investigating a cry for help he encounters a predatory monster girl with the unusual ability to evert her stomachs and shape them into sexy female form. These stomachs lure men into their folds and melt away their resistance with sensual ecstasy. Can Maynard escape this tempting trap or will he be literally digested alive by sex...?
Sandwiched by. One dude, two (or three!) sexy babes. A perfect fantasy... or maybe not...
You can get it for the low, low price of $0.99/£0.99 from:
Amazon
Smashwords
Kobo
(and other retailers through Smashwords)
Here's the blurb:
Sandwiched by is a sexy series of monster girl erotic horror shorts from the master of dark erotica, M. E. Hydra. The fifth in the series, “Sandwiched by Stomachs”, sees a man ensnared by the stomachs of a very unusual... and hungry... demon girl.
CPL Maynard Mayo is stationed in the alien dimension known as H-space. While investigating a cry for help he encounters a predatory monster girl with the unusual ability to evert her stomachs and shape them into sexy female form. These stomachs lure men into their folds and melt away their resistance with sensual ecstasy. Can Maynard escape this tempting trap or will he be literally digested alive by sex...?
Sandwiched by. One dude, two (or three!) sexy babes. A perfect fantasy... or maybe not...
And the cover:
(Yes, I know need to find a proper cover artist. Working on it...)
If you've enjoyed the various monster girl shorts I've posted here over the past year, please support my writing and pick up a copy of "Sandwiched by Stomachs" from your ebook retailer of choice (if it isn't at your ebook retailer of choice, let me know and I'll try and fix that.)
As for the H-space monster girl bestiary stories, I'm looking to get that restarted next week (finally!)
Friday, May 12, 2017
Excerpt from "Sandwiched by Stomachs"
I finished all the uploading today. "Sandwiched by Stomachs" should go live either tomorrow or Sunday. Here's an excerpt to whet your appetite while you're waiting:
She kissed him and Maynard's mouth filled up with a hot liquid that was thick and sticky like syrup.
Maynard opened his eyes.
It wasn't Aldonza.
It wasn't human.
In form it resembled a human woman. It was featureless. Or rather, there were features—eyes, nose, mouth—but they were the same color as the rest of her skin, as if she'd been freshly popped from a plastic mold. It wasn't flesh-tone pink either, but a paler, clammy shade—like viscera exposed to the light.
That's what she looked like—a girl made from viscera. Whitish-pink fluids oozed up all over her skin. Greater quantities drooled from her full and surprisingly sensual lips.
Shocked, Maynard tried to pull away. The girl hugged him tighter. He heard a low chuckle from the top of the mound.
"It would have been better for you had you not broken my charm, but I can't say I'm disappointed," the woman on top of the mound, who was not a researcher from FOB Lamanche, said.
Maynard looked over at her and wondered how he'd ever mistaken her for human. A set of red horns, curved and pointed like those of a bull, grew out of the side of her head. Her hair was long and red and cascaded over her naked shoulders. It looked wet. Not wet as if it had been freshly washed, but wet as if it wasn't hair at all and instead some kind of mucus or slime. She was naked and her skin was pale white in color and had an unnatural sheen—like worms never exposed to the sun. She had red markings on her midriff and exposed breasts that resembled tribal tattoos. Her boobs were big and round—the kind prized by the scummy magazines and websites that liked to objectify the female form.
That was the weirdest part. Even under all the alien crap she still had the face and figure of a stunningly attractive young woman. Above the waist anyway. Below the waist... did she even have a 'below the waist'? Maynard couldn't see legs. Instead her body broadened out in some kind of glistening trunk that descended into the mound.
Maynard didn't think she had a foot stuck, or even that the mound was a mound. He suspected it was a part of her in same way the shell was part of the tortoise.
"What are you?" Maynard asked.
And if the shell was part of her, did that mean this pink, floppy thing in his arms was as well?
"And what's this?"
Maynard tried to fend off the blob of wet tissue shaped like a woman. It had arms around Maynard like a drunken slut. He couldn't push her—it!—off. His hands kept slipping off its slimy surface.
"I'm Desquerida," the girl—monster!—on top of the mound said. "I suppose you could describe that as my stomach."
Stomach? What the fuck?
Maynard noticed what was happening to his uniform. Holes appeared where the fabric appeared to be rotting away.
"I can extrude my stomach outside my body to catch and digest prey," Desquerida said.
Maynard redoubled his efforts. He couldn't break away. The woman-shaped blob of flesh might have felt light like a balloon, but the surface was rubbery and sprang back from his blows. It was also covered in a layer of slippery slime that prevented Maynard from getting a good grip.
"Oh but that makes it sound so revoltingly crude. This is a plane of pleasure. The consumed must be given pleasure by those that consume them. That is the rule here. If you hadn't broken my charm it would have been in the sweet embrace of one you love."
Maynard kept struggling even as his uniform fell away in tatters.
"Although I'd be lying if I said I didn't prefer it this way," the monster added with a girlish giggle. "It's always so much more enjoyable when the prey is fully aware what's happening to them."
It's icky and vore-y, but there should still be plenty of hot (if weird) monster girl sex for people that are a bit more ambivalent on the vore thing. It's more a full-length version of the H-space Monster Girl Bestiary profiles I've been posting over the last year (and realising that was the angle I should take with it finally allowed me to finish it and get the Sandwiched by series moving again.)
The full version should be available for you to read from all good ebook retailers at the bargain price of $0.99 in the next day or so.
She kissed him and Maynard's mouth filled up with a hot liquid that was thick and sticky like syrup.
Maynard opened his eyes.
It wasn't Aldonza.
It wasn't human.
In form it resembled a human woman. It was featureless. Or rather, there were features—eyes, nose, mouth—but they were the same color as the rest of her skin, as if she'd been freshly popped from a plastic mold. It wasn't flesh-tone pink either, but a paler, clammy shade—like viscera exposed to the light.
That's what she looked like—a girl made from viscera. Whitish-pink fluids oozed up all over her skin. Greater quantities drooled from her full and surprisingly sensual lips.
Shocked, Maynard tried to pull away. The girl hugged him tighter. He heard a low chuckle from the top of the mound.
"It would have been better for you had you not broken my charm, but I can't say I'm disappointed," the woman on top of the mound, who was not a researcher from FOB Lamanche, said.
Maynard looked over at her and wondered how he'd ever mistaken her for human. A set of red horns, curved and pointed like those of a bull, grew out of the side of her head. Her hair was long and red and cascaded over her naked shoulders. It looked wet. Not wet as if it had been freshly washed, but wet as if it wasn't hair at all and instead some kind of mucus or slime. She was naked and her skin was pale white in color and had an unnatural sheen—like worms never exposed to the sun. She had red markings on her midriff and exposed breasts that resembled tribal tattoos. Her boobs were big and round—the kind prized by the scummy magazines and websites that liked to objectify the female form.
That was the weirdest part. Even under all the alien crap she still had the face and figure of a stunningly attractive young woman. Above the waist anyway. Below the waist... did she even have a 'below the waist'? Maynard couldn't see legs. Instead her body broadened out in some kind of glistening trunk that descended into the mound.
Maynard didn't think she had a foot stuck, or even that the mound was a mound. He suspected it was a part of her in same way the shell was part of the tortoise.
"What are you?" Maynard asked.
And if the shell was part of her, did that mean this pink, floppy thing in his arms was as well?
"And what's this?"
Maynard tried to fend off the blob of wet tissue shaped like a woman. It had arms around Maynard like a drunken slut. He couldn't push her—it!—off. His hands kept slipping off its slimy surface.
"I'm Desquerida," the girl—monster!—on top of the mound said. "I suppose you could describe that as my stomach."
Stomach? What the fuck?
Maynard noticed what was happening to his uniform. Holes appeared where the fabric appeared to be rotting away.
"I can extrude my stomach outside my body to catch and digest prey," Desquerida said.
Maynard redoubled his efforts. He couldn't break away. The woman-shaped blob of flesh might have felt light like a balloon, but the surface was rubbery and sprang back from his blows. It was also covered in a layer of slippery slime that prevented Maynard from getting a good grip.
"Oh but that makes it sound so revoltingly crude. This is a plane of pleasure. The consumed must be given pleasure by those that consume them. That is the rule here. If you hadn't broken my charm it would have been in the sweet embrace of one you love."
Maynard kept struggling even as his uniform fell away in tatters.
"Although I'd be lying if I said I didn't prefer it this way," the monster added with a girlish giggle. "It's always so much more enjoyable when the prey is fully aware what's happening to them."
It's icky and vore-y, but there should still be plenty of hot (if weird) monster girl sex for people that are a bit more ambivalent on the vore thing. It's more a full-length version of the H-space Monster Girl Bestiary profiles I've been posting over the last year (and realising that was the angle I should take with it finally allowed me to finish it and get the Sandwiched by series moving again.)
The full version should be available for you to read from all good ebook retailers at the bargain price of $0.99 in the next day or so.
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