Desire Dungeon: Basic Guide

As I mentioned in my review a couple of days ago, Desire Dungeon is a sweet little Monster Girl game that actually plays like a game. This can also make it a little confusing to play (although not as confusing as the massive RPGmaker-type clones). Here’s a handy little guide to ease the pain while waiting for an English translation.

Combat 

Red bar is life. Blue bar is willpower. If either empties, the fight is over. Physical and Magical attacks affect the red bar. Pleasure attacks affect the blue bar. Most skills also cost willpower to use. (Note, the bars for the monster girl are not displayed until you pick up the Werewolf’s skill)

Command options are:
Physical Attack 
Pleasure Attack 
Skill (These are picked up from the monster girls)
Defend 
Run Away

Monster girls follow different strategies and sometimes switch if you start using pleasure attacks on them. Figuring out how to counter them is part of the fun of the game, so I won’t spoil it.

Defeat the monster girl through pleasure attacks and you get the “good” H-scene and a skill. Most of them are useful and some are essential.

Defeat the monster through conventional damage and you get a treasure chest.

Treasure Chests 

First off you get a choice to open the chest (top) or ignore it (bottom). Successfully opening a chest requires clicking either the left or right mouse button a number of times equal to the chest’s level. You have a kind of thief level depending on accessories carried and latent skills obtained from some monster girls. For each ‘thief’ level you have, the correct option of L or R is displayed. If the chest’s level is higher, you’ll see ?s instead. This means you’ll have to guess. Guess wrong and you’ll set off a trap.

Chests contain money or mystery items. You won’t know what an item is until you exit the dungeon and get it appraised by the shopkeeper. The shop only contains the first two tiers of items. You’ll need to find better items from the chests once you get deeper into the dungeon.

Town 

Options are:
Inn 
Shop 
Church 
Tavern 
Go to Dungeon 

In the town locations the bottom two options are always Talk and Leave. Right-clicking also is the same as selecting Leave (or Back one menu option).

Inn 

Only the top two options matter.

Sleep: restores health/willpower to full and levels up character if they have enough XP. You can only level up here.
Save Game

Shop 

The shop is actually fairly important. First off, this is where you go to have items found in the dungeon identified. This is done automatically on exiting the dungeon, so there’s no need to worry about selecting it. Your character doesn’t carry duplicate items. If you find an item you already have the shopkeeper gives you money for it instead.

The commands are:
Weapon 
Armour 
Accessory 
Item 

The character has 3 stats for both attack and defence that equate to:
Physical
Magic
Pleasure

Weapons and armour focus on one of those three stats in that order. The shop contains only the first two tiers. You’ll need to find the better stuff in the chests.

The shop sells two accessories:
Thief’s tools: Gives +1 to opening chests. (You should buy this ASAP as it makes opening chests a lot easier)
Anti-Paralysis Thing: The witch on the first level has a magical attack that can paralyse the character for a few turns. This negates it.

Other accessories have to be found in the chests. I suck at this, so the only one I turned up was an item that negated sleep attacks (useful against the 2nd boss).

The items are potions and a statuette of a frog:
50% red bar
100% red bar
50% blue bar
100% blue bar
Frog

The character can only carry a maximum of 3 of each item.

Potions can’t be used in combat. Mostly you can do without until the 3rd level, where you’ll need a blue potion after each battle.

The frog teleports you out of the dungeon and back to town. The game became a lot easier for me once I figured out what it did.

Always carry a frog!

Church 

Options are:
Donate Gold: Converts money to XP.
Cleansing ritual: There’s a nasty mechanic in the game. If you lose 5 times to a monster girl, she gets a lot harder to beat. You can reset this, but it costs everything you have. It’s not going to come up unless you want to play the game iron man-style with no save-scumming.

Tavern

Three dudes tell you how to play the game. Just some basic background info.

Status screen 

Can be accessed by right-clicking in either the town or dungeon.

Top left is:
Item: Use potions/frogs outside of battle
Skill: Heal outside of battle
Encyclopaedia
Config: ロード (load) is the command you’ll most likely be using from this menu

Bottom left is equipment in the order of:
Weapon
Armour
Accessory

Right panel lists stats and XP. 

Strategy 

First off, you can only level up by going back to the inn and sleeping (which doesn’t cost any money).  If you lose a battle, you lose all the XP you picked up and drop down a level (but you also get a naughty H-scene to make up for it).  Lose 5 times to the same girl and they become a lot harder to beat.

Most of the time it’s best just to save-scum.  Save before you go into the dungeon and reload if you get a good bonking.  You don’t lose anything and you keep at the same level.  If it sounds scummy, that’s why they call it save-scumming.

The start of the game will go something like this:

You start off with 100G.  You can immediately convert this to 10XP at the church and go up to Level 2.  But as defeating a fairy gives 10XP and level 2, it’s better to save the money.

Step 1:  Enter dungeon, defeat first fairy (reload if you get smeared by the werewolf instead), exit, level up.

Step 2: Enter dungeon, defeat a couple of fairies (hopefully avoiding the werewolf), exit, level up to 3.

Step 3: You should have about 200G.  Buy cucumber (3rd weapon, tier 1, pleasure weapon).  Beat fairy with pleasure attacks to pick up Heal skill.

Step 4: With Heal, you should now be able to tackle the werewolf.  Be wary of using pleasure attacks as the Werewolf is a lot harder to beat that way (you’re supposed to knock her red bar down first to stop her pinning you, but that hint didn’t come up for me until I’d beaten her the hard way).

From here keep going in and out to build up cash and levels.

Buy the thief’s tools early as it’ll stop you triggering the chest traps.  (The werewolf’s skill also helps)

The witch starts appearing around step 50.  If her paralyse attack gets annoying, pick up the anti-paralysis accessory from the shop.

Step 100 is the end of the level and the boss fight.  You’ll get a warning prompt at step 99 asking whether you want to go on.

Hints and Tips

Get the Mimic’s skill early.  She’s appears as one of the trap types (deliberately select the wrong button when opening a chest to trigger the traps).  Her level scales with your character, so you’ll probably need to wait until you’ve got good kit/skills to compensate.  Her skill is +2 to opening chests and makes it a lot easier to find the good items in the level 3+ chests. (I beat her late, which explains my suckitude at finding the cool accessories)

The second boss will auto-win at the start of the fight unless you use Slime’s skill (Mimicry).  This can be used outside of combat and makes a copy of you that soaks up the first attack.  It can also be used in combat and is fairly useful against another of the monsters.

You'll need willpower potions to advance along the third level.  The vampire in particular (despite being a gorgeous busty goddess of lurve) has a very annoying grapple attack that drains willpower while simultaneously replenishing both her bars.

Always carry a frog!

The game caps out at level 30.  I think the developers included this as a ‘you will be able to finish our game no matter how terrible you are (guilty - *sigh*)’ feature.

Endings

This didn’t trigger for me (probably because of all my dirty save-scumming), but other players have mentioned there are slightly different endings where the player hooks up with one of the monster girls (text rather than additional H-scenes).  Harpy and Fighter have endings I've been told.  I don’t know if that means there’s an ending for all girls, or what triggers them.  Drop by in the comments if you figure it out.

Hope this helps anyway.

P.S. If you like this game, you'll probably also like my books
/shameless plug

Hentai Game Review: Desire Dungeon

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Jackson in HRPG-World: 3-6 A Sticky Starting Scrap

Groundslime Day continues for Ian Jackson...


Jackson in HRPG-World: 3-6 A Sticky Starting Scrap

“You’ll never hit anyone with a strike that slow,” she said, again delivering her lines like a self-aware cartoon villain.

Fuck!  So it wasn’t that option after all.  What else was there?  There was the bottom option, the seventh command.  He hadn’t tried that yet.  Selecting it brought up a second list of options.  He selected one at random.

Suraimo’s eyes lit up.  “Oh.  You liked my paizuri so much you want me to do it again.  I can do that.  With pleasure,” she added.

“Huh,” Jackson said.  He hadn’t said that at all.

Suraimo crouched down and dived forward, taking him down at the waist.  Jackson landed on his back on the path with Suraimo hugging his waist.  Giggling, she found the button of his pants and pulled them down, again exposing his penis.  Not again, he thought, even as another part of him felt a thrill of anticipation.

“Bouncy, bouncy, bouncy,” Suraimo said.

She placed hands on either side of her generous breasts and pushed them together around his cock.  Sandwiched between two moist and elastic boobs, it didn’t take long for his manhood to surge up to its full length.

“Bounce, bounce, bounce,” Suraimo teased as her upper body bobbed up and down.

Jackson saw his erection roll around as it was buffeted between her transparent tits.  It was slippery within her cleavage and erotic shivers ran through him as she rubbed the soft mass of her breasts up and down his cock.

His enjoyment was sullied as he watched his health bar gradually get eaten away.

He was losing, again.

“Hey, what about my actions?” he asked.

It was supposed to be turn-based combat.  His seemed to have vanished.

“You don’t get any more actions,” she said.  “Bounce, bounce, bounce,” she added with a wide grin.

“Hey!  How is that fair?” Jackson complained.

Suraimo paused and looked at him quizzically.

“You did select the option: ‘Use paizuri on me until I come.’”

“I did?”

That was what the command did?

“Hold on,” he said.  “If I come I lose, right?”

“Yes.”

“So what’s the point of a command that causes the player to instantly lose?”

Suraimo placed a liquid hand on his chest and looked down at him with her head tilted to one side.

“How else are we going to know what moves a player wants done to them,” she explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  She shook her head.  “I’m not sure you understand this game at all.”

She continued squeezing her breasts up against his cock like they were a pair of soft pillows.  Fluffed up between them, Jackson felt his cock give a warning twitch.  He tried to hold back the urge to come, but it was growing stronger and stronger.  At the same time his green bar in the control panel was dwindling away to nothing.

“Time to absorb your little man and make sure he’s all nice and snug for the release,” Suraimo said.

She squeezed her breasts together even tighter than before.  Jackson’s erection was swallowed up completely in her cleavage, trapped within a transparent prison that pulsed and shivered pleasantly around him.

“Squish, squish,” Suraimo said, smiling coquettishly, her lips plumped up like a classic movie-star beauty.

Her soft breasts were melting around him, enveloping his erection in warm jelly.  The liquid oozed down between his thighs and engulfed his balls.

Fuck.  He couldn’t hold it back.  He was going to lose.

“Squish,” Suraimo said, lips pouting in a kiss.

Her melting boobs throbbed around him.  He felt the gelatinous substance of her chest suck on his straining manhood.

“Coming,” Jackson grunted.

Pleasurable tension thrummed through his body.  His cock pulsed and spurted a thick rope of cum right into the churning center of her chest.  Her boobs started to swell up as she drank the semen pouring from Jackson in a sticky stream.  Again the motions of her gelatinous body seemed to take over to the point he wasn’t sure whether he was pumping cum into her or she was pumping it out of him.  The pleasure he felt was the same either way and she made sure to drag it out until Jackson felt weak and floppy in the aftermath.

Suraimo ran her slippery hands along Jackson’s sides.

“So, would you like that Bad End now?”

Panic shoved aside Jackson’s lethargy.  He had an answer for that:

Skip.

Hello, big tits angel.

Skip.

Goodbye, big tits angel.

“It’s a good command to have, right?” Suraimo said as he returned to the path.  “Handjob.”  She held up a hand and wiggled fingers as flexible as worms.  “Blowjob.”  she mimed sucking on an imaginary penis.  “Paizuri.”  She pushed her substantial boobs together.

A pleasurable shiver ran through Jackson as he remembered what she did to him last time.

Fucking stop it, he admonished.  His cock twitched in his pants and he wanted to bash the traitorous organ back down.

“It’s a popular selection,” Suraimo said.  “Players like to choose how to succumb.”

“Selecting how you want to lose is gay,” Jackson said.

Who chose to lose: losers, that’s who.

“You do know what this game is about?” Suraimo asked.

“It’s a pervy hentai game and I’m going to beat it,” Jackson said.  His face was stern as he settled into a fighting stance with his sword held out before him.

to be continued...


If you say so, Jackson.  If you say so...

Fleshcult: A Succubus game in need of crowd-funding

Near the end of 2012 I was approached by Jack Oekaki and asked if I wanted to contribute some writing to a game, Fleshcult, he was working on.  It was something I was interested in, but having a full-time job and a number of writing projects I'm falling behind on (Succubus Summoning 201!) meant I couldn't really contribute as much as I'd like, although I did throw in the odd idea.

Currently they're looking to raise funds to make the game through Offbeatr.  Offbeatr is a version of Kickstarter that handles the more adult-oriented projects Kickstarter doesn't allow.  I also threw in some ebooks as donation rewards.

I played an early demo of the game and it's interesting.  You play as either a succubus or an incubus and the goal is to seduce victims and talk them into joining your harem.  Seduction and recruitment is a tricky balance of using various sex moves without freaking the victim out or making them come so many times they collapse of exhaustion.  The sex descriptions and customization of the main character are reminiscent of Fenoxo's enjoyable (if a little warped!) Corruption of Champions.  Fleshcult is more of a resource management game, or was when I played the demo.  Once they've contracted their soul over, victims can be put to work in a variety of roles in your lair.  This increases the power of your foocubus and allows you to unlock more sexy moves and (naughty!) transformations.

If it sounds of interest, you can take a gander at the Fleshcult blog here, and the Offbeatr crowd-funding page for the project is right here.

Jackson in HRPG-World: 3-5 A Sticky Starting Scrap

Jackson continues to fuck up and Suraimo gets more XXX-rated.  Starting to think I should have named this segment Groundslime Day or Slimehog Day.


Jackson in HRPG World: 3-5 A Sticky Starting Scrap

Suraimo clapped her hands and giggled.  “Yay!  You figured out how to get free.”

And now the tide turns.

Jackson brought up the control panel in his mind and saw the fourth option was no longer grayed out.  Aha!  He selected it and his body took up a fighting stance with the sword held out in front of him.

Now we’re smoking.

“Oh, you want me to take it slow?” Suraimo queried.  “Sure, I can do that if you’d like.”

She glided forwards and slipped inside Jackson’s defenses.  One hand undid the button of his pants while the other squidged underneath his tunic and rubbed up his back.  A smaller chunk fell off his health bar this time.  He saw a 1.

1HP?  He supposed that was progress.

He selected the fourth command again.

Suraimo pressed her body close in an embrace.  Her hand slithered up to the back of his head and held him still as she crushed her lips on his in a sloppy kiss.  Her other hand slipped up and down his hard-on as smoothly as if it had been dipped in scented oil.

She broke off the kiss leaving her taste lingering on his tongue and lips.  It was nice: sweet, fruity and somehow naughty.

Focus, Jackson thought.

Maybe she’d neutralized the action or something.  He tried again.

Suraimo pressed her palm down on the swollen helmet of his cock.  She pushed and his dick sank into the warm, semi-liquid substance of her arm.  She kept on pushing until his whole length was absorbed and her fused fingers had enfolded his balls.  Pleasant sensations rippled down his shaft as she played with his balls.  Another small chunk fell off his health bar.

“No fair,” Jackson complained.  “When do I get to take my actions?”

Suraimo paused.  She looked puzzled.

“You’re taking them,” she said.  “You selected Defend for the last three turns.”

“Defend?”  Is that what he’d been doing.  The super-lame action no one ever took because it didn’t do anything.  Fucking great.

“Time to wrap you up again,” Suraimo said.  “You won’t get away this time.”  She delivered her lines like a self-aware kids’ TV show villain.

Waves of slime flowed out from her base and engulfed his feet and ankles.

Fuck defending.  Attacking was where he needed to be.  He tried the top option again.

Nothing happened.

“You can’t attack when you’re bound,” Suraimo said.

She went down on her knees in front of him while her slippery hand continued to pump up and down his erection.

“How about a nice blowjob?”  She smiled as she held his throbbing red erection.  “Slime girls give really good head.  Super sloppy.”

She wasn’t exaggerating.  Jackson closed his eyes as moist lips as soft as fine pillows wrapped around the swollen head of his cock and sucked him in like a popsicle.  He heard murmurs of pleasure and wet sucking sounds as Suraimo’s head bobbed back and forth.  He felt lips and a tongue, but there was no opening at the back of her mouth.  Instead his cock sank into a soft substance that sent pleasurable tingles tickling across his glans.

Suraimo released him with a wet smacking sound.  She ran a darker blue tongue over her plump lips.

“How’s that feel?” she asked.

“Uh,” was the best Jackson could manage.

A big chunk fell off his health bar.

“Whoops.  That was a little too powerful for your level.  I’ll have to tone it back a little to keep the fight fair.”

Stab her, Jackson thought.  All he had to do was lift the sword and thrust it straight down through her kneeling body.  Stab her.  Attaaaccckkk!

Nothing happened.

The corner of Suraimo’s mouth turned up in a smile.

“Ha ha, I see your game,” she said.  “You’re one of those that likes to pretend they’re fighting right until the end.”

She gave another murmur of pleasure and wrapped her lips around his cock.  Her head bobbed up and down while making loud slurping sounds.  Jackson’s cock was buried in warm slime that sucked at him like thick mud.  She carried on the attack for longer this time, sucking and sucking until Jackson’s cock was twitching right on the verge and all that remained of his health bar was a tiny green sliver.

Jackson tried to struggle free.  The sticky slime started to lose its grip.

“Not this time,” Suraimo said.

She responded by wrapping more curtains of thick, elastic slime around his legs and feet, covering him right up to the tops of his thighs.

Goddammit! Jackson thought.

“Nearly,” Suraimo said.  “I think you’re right at your limit.”

Jackson felt right at his limit.  His cock was throbbing in her hand.  Pre-cum oozed out of his japseye and dribbled down the shaft.  He watched as it encountered her transparent blue skin and was absorbed.

“Mmm, your bar is so low even the weakest attack would be enough to make you come.”  Suraimo looked up at him and smiled.  “I don’t need to hold back.  I can give you a really big suck.”

And she did.

With another orgasmic murmur she sucked him back into her mouth and moved her face all the way down until her plush lips were kissing his root.  Deep-throating him, if she had a throat to deep-throat him with.  What she had was better.  The soft amorphous substance of her body felt like rows and rows of lips around his cock, all of them kissing, squeezing, sucking.  She wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him tighter.  The whole of her upper body was working on him now.  He felt her wet boobs squashed up against his upper thighs.  Her chest rose up and down like a marathon runner or deep-sea diver drawing in great gulps of air.

But it wasn’t air, it was him.

The last sliver of green fell off his health bar.

Oh fuck, this was going to be—

All the muscles in his body stiffened.  His hips jerked forwards like a released bowstring.  He sighed as a thick torrent of cum surged up his shaft and erupted into the liquid interior of her mouth.  Even gagged as she was with his cock, Suraimo still managed a muffled cry of glee.  Her chest continued to expand up and down as she guzzled down his cum like a sorority sister chugging on a keg.  Jackson’s ejaculation kept going.  He wasn’t sure his body had much say in it.  Suraimo was sucking it out of him as if his cock was a straw.

Oh fuck, was this head.  Fantastic, super sloppy, amazing head.

Jackson thought he might have orgasmed again, or maybe more.  The sensations merged into one seemingly never-ending throbbing burst of pleasure.

He tipped over backwards with a moon-faced smile on his lips.  Suraimo didn’t allow him to hit the floor.  She’d already sent thick pseudopodia out behind him and they caught him like a wet airbag.  Her gelatinous body lay on top of his legs and she continued to suck, drawing out every last drop from his cock and balls.

She lifted her head and showed Jackson the creamy white blobs of his cum on her lips and inside her mouth.  She sucked them inside, tipped back her head and gulped.  He saw the blobs flow down her throat and join the thick cloud drifting inside her chest.  Another gulp and the cloud was sucked down into her belly where it slowly dissipated.

She was a swallower, Jackson thought.

“Ahhh,” Suraimo sighed.  She showed him her empty mouth.

Yep, definitely a swallower.

“Time for that Bad End?” she asked.  Her slime rippled up over his exposed belly.

Bad End jolted Jackson from his haze of contentment.  What else did she like to swallow?

Skip.

Sad angel.

Skip.

Positive angel.

“I know what you’re doing,” Suraimo said after he’d returned to the forest path.  “You want to draw it out and save the H-scene to the last.  You want to see all my moves first.”

Jackson wanted to see her diced into little blue cubes.

“That’s so sweet.  I’ll be sure to add a few extra special ones to heighten your pleasure.”  She gave him a lascivious wink.

Jackson sighed.  He held up his sword.  Okay, let’s be systematic about this.

“Suraimo Torapo!”

The surprise attack was part of the script.  He couldn’t avoid it, but he could—

He selected the third option.

—struggle out of it.

He noticed the lines of gunk on his portrait in the control panel went away.  Okay, that must mean he was free.  Now maybe he’d be able to attack cleanly.

He selected the top left option.

He stepped forward and swung his sword.

Haha.  At last!  Now he was going to do some damage.

The slime girl sidestepped his swing.

“You’ll never hit anyone with a strike that slow,” she said, again delivering her lines like a self-aware cartoon villain.

Fuck!  So it wasn’t that option after all.  What else was there?  There was the bottom option, the seventh command.  He hadn’t tried that yet.  Selecting it brought up a second list of options.  He selected one at random.

to be continued . . .


Uh Oh.  That option.  What could possibly go wrong . . .

Jackson in HRPG-World: 3-4 A Sticky Starting Scrap

Hmm.  This was originally only supposed to be four to five chapters, but it appears Suraimo really likes playing with her opponents.  The usual NSFW and git-gone-if-you're-younger-than-18 rules apply.


Jackson in HRPG-World: 3-4 A Sticky Starting Scrap.

“Want a second service?” she asked.  “How about I use these?”

She cupped her hands around her substantial blue breasts and squeezed them together.

Jackson’s cock sprang to attention in his pants.

Give it a rest, he thought.  She’s made out of bright blue jello.

It’s not sexy.

She gave him a suggestive smile as she reached down and unbuttoned his pants.  They fell to the floor and Jackson’s erection flopped free.

Look.  It’s not sexy.

His other head had a different idea on that.  It bobbed around on the end of a hardening shaft.

Suraimo ran a tongue over plush blue lips and mischief glittered in her eyes.  She crouched down until her swollen boobs were level with his waist.  She held them apart and Jackson’s cock twitched in the space between them.

It’s not—

Suraimo brought her tits together with a wet splodge, sandwiching Jackson’s cock.

Ohhhhh.

She absorbed his member.  Jackson looked down and saw it resting between the transparent bulges of her enormous boobs.  He felt their soft elasticity pressing all around him as Suraimo squeezed them together.

He saw the control panel is his mind again.  A message he couldn’t read flashed up.  There was a number, 4, he could read buried amongst the moon runes.  He also noticed there was a green bar on the bottom left.  Somewhere between a fifth and a quarter of its length dropped off the end.

Ah, so that must be his life bar.  The one on the right must be hers.

So hit her.

He looked at the commands and tried to work out which one would allow him to do that.

Fuck it.  Screw the control panel.  She was kneeling in front of him—a sitting duck.  All he had to do was lift up the massive sword and stab it straight down.  Easy.

Do it!

Attaaaacccckkkk!

Nothing happened.

Okay, another unreadable message flashed up.  But there were no numbers, no change to her life bar and the stupid sword remained resolutely nowhere near plunging down into her back.

“That doesn’t work when you’re bound,” Suraimo said.

She squished her boobs together and jiggled them around his cock.  Jackson felt her soft curves rub against him.  Another chunk fell off his life bar.

This wasn’t going right at all.

Hold on.  It was a pervy Japanese hentai game.  Maybe he was supposed to be using his other ‘sword’.

Instead of trying to pull away from her, he tensed his buttocks and thrust his hard cock deeper into the gelatinous substance of her chest.

Didn’t expect that, huh.

Suraimo smiled with delight.  “So eager.  Are slime girls your fetish?”

What?  Wait . . .

Jackson realized he was completely stuck between her breasts now.  He couldn’t pull out.  They swelled up of their own accord and pressed tightly all around his erection.

“In that case I’ll give you a really pleasant service.”  Suraimo smiled up at him with eyes full of filthy intent.

Her breasts throbbed around his cock.  He felt it all the way down in his balls.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Suraimo said.  “I’m not supposed to have a paizuri attack, but there’s only so many tentacle handjobs a girl can give out before it starts to get boring.”

Her boobs pulsed and her cleavage clenched tightly around him.  So tight her breasts melted together and his cock was absorbed into the thick liquid suction of her body.  Shudders ran through him.  He erupted inside her.  This time she helped him with the ejaculation.  The molten swell of her breasts throbbed against him like bellows, prolonging his orgasm and drawing more semen from his cock even after he thought the flow was subsiding.

Mewling in pleasure, Suraimo wrapped her arms around Jackson’s ass and pressed her wet breasts into his lap.  He continued to spurt inside the warm gelatinous substance of her chest.  A dense white cloud was blooming inside her blue body and his knees were feeling wobbly.  He couldn’t fall over; Suraimo had wrapped the whole of his lower body in curtains of thick, elastic slime.

“Oh, sugoi,” Suraimo sighed.  Her eyes were shut and there was a red flush on her cheeks.  Jackson had no idea where that had come from, it wasn’t as if she had blood vessels.

The flow finally ebbed away to a trickle and Jackson watched the fluffy white cloud dissipate through her body.  Suraimo looked up at him, her eyes bright.

“You lost,” she said.  “Time for your Bad End.”

The lines of her body softened and started to wriggle up Jackson’s exposed flesh.

Skiiippp!

He was back on the cloudy plane with the sad big tits angel.  She opened her mouth to—

Skip.

The big tits angel sent him back to the woodland path with a smile full of hope.

Suraimo was waiting for him.  “You skipped the H-scene again,” she said.  “I told you to be careful with the skip button.  Now you’ll have to lose to me again if you want to see it.”

Not this time.  Jackson was ready.  No more surprise attacks gluing his feet to the floor.  He was prepared.  The moment she’d tried that shit he was going to jump—

“Suraimo Torapo!”

Jackson’s feet were glued to the floor.

Motherfucker!  How could she move so fast?

Suraimo giggled as her slime bubbled up between his toes and covered his ankles.  A little bit of Jackson’s life bar fell away.  She sent her layer of slime up past his knees and then dutifully waited for him to take his action.

Okay, let’s think about this.  Jackson studied the control panel.

“Are you sure you understood Aerias’s instructions?” Suraimo asked.

“Shut it, I’m thinking,” Jackson snapped back.

Let’s be methodical about this.  He’d tried the top option from both the first and second column and it hadn’t done anything.  The second and fourth options on the left were grayed out and couldn’t be selected.  What about the third option, the funny squiggle?  He hadn’t tried that one yet.

He selected it.

His hips and legs moved of their own accord.  He stepped backwards and this time the slimy constraints of her body felt more like wet mud than industrial strength rubber covered in super glue.  He struggled free.

Suraimo clapped her hands and giggled.  “Yay!  You figured out how to get free.”

And now the tide turns.

to be continued . . .


"The tide turns?"  I think you're being a wee bit optimistic there, Jackson.

Jackson in HRPG-World: 3-3 A Sticky Starting Scrap

I'm actually ahead of schedule, for once.


Jackson in HRPG-World: 3-3 A Sticky Starting Scrap

Jackson squirmed again in a fruitless attempt to get free.

Fucking great.  He was stuck in some sick puppy’s perverted hentai game and he didn’t have the faintest idea how to play it.

He focused on the control panel superimposed over his vision.  He was stuck having to play these games by their rules.  That’s how it went.  One of the options must allow him to dice the bitch.  All he had to do was guess which one.  If it wasn’t the top action on the left then it must be the top one on the right.  He selected it.

Nothing happened.

The slime girl laughed.  “Ha ha.  I knew you were just like all the others.”

A pseudopod reared up and dived into his junk with a wet splodge.  Jackson jerked backwards involuntarily.  It was not a sensation he was expecting.  Given the slimy nature of her body he’d expected something cold and unpleasantly squishy.  Or worse, an acidic burning.  Instead it felt sort of . . . nice.

Her jelly had engulfed the whole of his cock.  Like a mouth had opened in the end of her tentacle and she’d sucked him in.  He felt the warm, moist and soft substance of her body wrapped around him.  He could even still see his penis.  He saw it lengthening into an erection through her transparent blue skin.  He watched his foreskin move back and forth as her amorphous appendage sucked and tugged on him.

His cock was inside her slime.  He should pull it out before she did something nasty, like dissolve it or some scary shit like that.

The tentacle bulged as more of the amorphous material of her body flowed up and enveloped his cock in a warm, gelid grip.  It felt really good.

In a moment, Jackson thought.

The slime giggled.  “They always like to lose first time round, naughty boys,” she said.

Bulges in the tentacle moved back and forth as she masturbated him.

“Ha ha,” the slime girl said.  “Soon I’ll take you to—”

“Uh,” Jackson said.  He felt his cock throb as he expelled a glob of cloudy semen right into the liquid interior of her tentacle.

“Oh,” the slime girl said, her mouth forming a surprised o.  “Whoops.  My fault.  I should have gone easier on you.  Your repressive Western culture mustn’t allow you much experience of games like this.”

Jackson didn’t have the faintest idea what she was talking about.  He did know he’d just jizzed right inside her slimy tentacle and that was just fucking wrong.

More of her slime flowed right down to the end of the tentacle.  It bunched up around the root of his cock, forming a soft cuff.  She rolled it up his shaft and squeezed out the last dribbles of cum left in his pipes.  Jackson watched as the little splatters of cum floating within her slime were drawn down the tentacle and up into her main body.

“Mmm, tasty,” she said as the little clouds of his semen dissolved and were absorbed by her semi-liquid flesh.

“Is it my turn now?” Jackson asked.  All the command options had gone away.

The slime girl looked surprised.  “Turn?  It’s over.  You came, you lost.”

“What?” Jackson complained.  “That’s not fair.  I didn’t understand the controls.”

“It’s not the end of the game,” the slime girl laughed.  “You can repeat the same fight over and over.”  Her face took on a very lewd expression.  “Actually, that’s kind of the whole point.”

She slithered towards him.  More tentacles budded off her blue body and reached out for his immobilized body.

“But first: You came, you lost, now it’s time to enjoy your Bad End.”

Her expression was now really lewd . . . really lewd and hungry.

Bad End?  Jackson didn’t like the sound of that at all.  Japs were freaks, everyone knew that.  This end scene could be anything, even her absorbing him and melting his face off.  Having to watch that would be bad enough, but actually being in the game and experiencing it firsthand . . .

Panicking, Jackson checked the control panel.  Wait, there were some commands he recognized, up on the right, just above the main message window.  Save and . . .

Skip!

The slime girl opened her arms to embrace him.  Her tentacles slithered around his body.

Skip skip skip skip SKIIIIP!

The slime girl’s eyes widened in surprise.  “You’re skipping the sex scene?  Who does—”

The woodland path vanished and Jackson found himself back on the featureless, cloudy plane with the big tits angel.  She looked sad.

Alas, poor Ian Jackson, Jackson thought.  The unlucky adventurer had all the flesh melted off his bones by a skanky slime girl.  Or some other shit like that.

The angel opened her mouth and started speaking to Jackson in moonspeak.  Not again, couldn’t he just—

Hey wait, the skip option was here too.  Sweet.

Skip.

Jackson went straight to the end of the angel’s speech.  She’d stopped looking sad and instead had a smile full of positivity and hope.

Go forth and cube the slimy skank, Jackson imagined her saying in a squeaky voice.

The angel and the cloudy plane faded out and Jackson was back on the woodland path with the battle music playing in the background.  A blue splodge landed on the center of the path and bounced up into the jiggling form of a super-hot babe.

“Ready for the rematch?” she asked.

Huh?   How would she know it was a rematch?  That was the whole point of continue.  It rewound the player back to the point before they’d gotten themselves squished.  So how could she know about things that technically hadn’t even happened?

“And be careful with the skip button,” she said.  “You skipped the H-scene last time.”

Well d’uh.  Like he wanted to watch his dick get melted off.

“I’m Suraimo,” the slime girl said.  “I don’t think we had a chance to introduce ourselves last time.”

Jackson didn’t say anything.

“The silent type, how delicious,” Suraimo said.  “Have you got the hang of the controls now?”

Jackson raised his stupidly large and probably shit sword.  He could do this.  The game might be in Japanese, but she was only a low-level monster—the tutorial battle.  He could do this.  He was going to dice her into little blue cubes . . . cautiously.

“Okay, let’s go.  Suraimo Torapo!”

Jackson was stuck in a blue puddle of slime.  Again.

Great.  He twisted and pulled, but couldn’t get his body free.  Suraimo’s hips swayed from side to side as she glided towards him.

“Want a second service?” she asked.  “How about I use these?”

She cupped her hands around her substantial blue breasts and squeezed them together.

to be continued . . .

Book Review: Adam Nevill - Apartment 16

This fella appears to be picking up a bit of buzz recently.  His most recent book, The Ritual, was one of the winners at this year’s British Fantasy Society awards and this one was nominated last year.  He’s also the first new horror (proper horror, not sparkly vamp’n’woof romance) writer I’ve seen appear in the horror section of my local Waterstones in what seems like forever.  He’s also good.  Apartment 16 is a cracker of a book.  A modern ghost story might be a close enough description, but Nevill never allows the book to get bogged down and doesn’t shirk from describing graphic and disturbing imagery.

The plot follows the converging paths of two characters.  Apryl is a young woman over from the States to claim an inheritance from a previously unknown great aunt.  While going through her aunt’s belonging she uncovers a disturbing history to the ancient apartment complex her aunt lived in.  Seth is a failed artist working as the night-shift guard at the same building and slowly falling under the influence of the evil that permeates the building.  Don’t be put off if that sounds uninspiring.  Nevill’s vivid descriptions and concept of an afterlife as black and as cold as a distant dead star elevates what could have been a humdrum, staid idea into a highly effective chiller.  Definitely one for when the nights grow longer and colder.  I’ll definitely be adding more of Mr Nevill’s books to my reading list.

Jackson in HRPG-World: 3-2 A Sticky Starting Scrap

Jackson in HRPG-World: 3-2 A Sticky Starting Scrap

The blue blob bobbed and quivered.  Protoplasm erupted out of the top and formed into the shape of a sexy young woman with humongous, jiggling boobies.

Jackson’s mouth fell open.

He'd fought blue slimes before.  They were bouncing teardrops with googly eyes that looked like they'd been drawn by a five-year-old.  This . . . didn't.

She—and it was definitely a she—was the same height as him.  She was bright blue and partially transparent.  He could see the bushes and trees behind her through her body.  Their shapes were blurry and distorted by her curves.

She had curves—wow did she have curves—and they were in all the right places.  Her figure reminded Jackson of the high school cheerleaders he’d lusted after even though he’d known he never stood a chance.  She jiggled and wobbled on the path as if she’d been freshly popped from a mold taken from the body cast of a curvaceous glamour model.  A babe made out of jello.  A jello babe.

Fucking game developers again, Jackson thought.  Always obsessed with the T & A because they couldn’t get any in the real world.  He gripped the hilt of his shitty starting sword.  It was a damn shame, but he was going to have to dice Ms. Jello 2013 into little cubes.

The slime girl said something to him in moonspeak.

Don’t understand, don’t care, Jackson thought.  He lifted up his sword and . . .

. . . found himself standing on a featureless cloudy plane with the big tits angel floating in front of him.

Great, the battle tutorial.

The angel asked him some questions in moonspeak.  Jackson smiled, nodded his head and pretended to understand.  Obviously he didn’t, but if he told the big tits angel that then she’d repeat the instructions over and over until he collapsed of old age.

He didn’t need the instructions anyway.  It was a stupid JRPG.  They were all the same.  They all had the same commands.  Attack, Magic, Item, Run Away.  It was the same every fucking time.  So Jackson smiled, nodded his head and waited for the big tits angel to send him back so he could splatter Ms. Jelly Tits all over the pre-rendered backdrops exactly the same as he’d done to all the other bouncing blue retards.

The angel finished her piece and Jackson was sent back to the path.  The blue girl stood in front of him with her hands on her hips.  Naked blue girl, Jackson amended.  Naked blue girl with a level of anatomical detail that would usually get a game artist in a lot of trouble.

The blue girl smiled at him and asked him yet another question he didn’t understand.  Annoyed at being teleported all over the place and having to listen to people jabber moonspeak at him, Jackson finally snapped.

“Doesn’t anyone speak American in this stupid fucking game!” he yelled at the sky.

“Oh,” the slime girl said.  “A Westerner.  What are you doing playing an Eastern game in the original nihongo?” she asked in perfect English.

Jackson gawped at her.

“It’s okay, I know why,” she said.  “They don’t allow you to make games like this in the West because they’re afraid children might get their hands on them and grow up crazy.  It’s so unfortunate to have to live in such a repressive regime.  If you want a little harmless fun you have to seek it out elsewhere.  And . . .”

She pressed her ample boobs together and leaned forward to fully emphasize her jaw-dropping cleavage.

“ . . . pictures are the universal language.”

Jackson’s jaw dropped.

“Lucky for you I speak American,” the slime girl continued.  “That’s why they made my scene part of the trial,” she added proudly.

Jackson continued to stare at her tits.  That was some pair, even if they were blue and see-through.

She squished them closer together.  They looked a little more . . . elastic than a normal girl’s.  “Are these fine?” she asked.  “Would you like them bigger?  Or smaller?  Is this height okay?  I know some Western boys get a little intimidated if the girl is taller than them.  I can change to be shorter if that’s what you prefer.”

Jackson stared at her in bafflement.  He might understand the words now, but he still had no fucking clue what she was talking about.

“Aren’t we supposed to be fighting?” he asked.

“Oh yes, the ‘fight’.”  She even signaled the inverted commas like an MTV Valley Girl.  “Okay.  It’s my surprise attack so I get to go first.”

Jackson felt something wet and sticky squish up between his toes.  He looked down and saw the slime girl had formed a puddle beneath his feet and he was standing right in the middle of it.  He tried to lift a foot and managed only a couple of inches.  It was like standing on a glue trap.

“Suraimo Torapo,” the girl said.  “I’ve got you now.”

Jackson couldn’t pull free.  The slime oozed up over his feet and ankles, forming a thick elastic sheath that kept his feet stuck together.

“Up I go,” the slime girl teased.

The rising sheath of slime crawled up to his thighs.  Then it stopped.  Jackson twisted and squirmed, but couldn’t break through.  Smiling, the slime girl watched him . . .

. . . and watched . . .

. . . and watched . . .

. . . until after a while she feigned a yawn.  “Come on,” she said.  “I haven’t got all day.”

Jackson looked at her glistening, transparent body with a baffled expression on his face.

“It’s your turn,” she explained.  “Aren’t you going to do anything?”

“Huh,” Jackson said.  He paused his fruitless efforts to lift his feet.  He was totally stuck.

“Your action.  Unless you want to skip it,” she added with a suggestive smile.

Of course.  Stupid turn-based combat, Jackson thought.  They had to take it in turns to attack.  It didn’t make any sense, but then neither did hos with porn star bodies made out of transparent blue jello.

He became aware of a control panel superimposed over his vision.  There it was.  All he had to do was select a command action from the list.

Unfortunately, they were all in moon runes.  There were seven choices in all—four on the left, three on the right—and he didn’t have the slightest idea what any of them were.

He picked the first one on the left.  That was where the Attack  button usually was, right?

Nothing happened.

“You’re bound,” the slime girl said.  “That doesn’t work.  My turn!” she added with a musical giggle.

The sticky slime crawled higher up his legs.

“Let’s see what you’re hiding,” the girl said.

Tentacles formed out of the elastic slime sheath.  They wriggled upwards until they found the button of his pants.  They popped it and pulled down his pants until his junk flopped free.

“Nice,” the slime girl said.  She ran a blue tongue over blueberry-colored lips.  “Next attack I think I’ll play with it.  Would you like that?”

Jackson squirmed again in a fruitless attempt to get free.

Fucking great.  He was stuck in some sick puppy’s perverted hentai game and he didn’t have the faintest idea how to play it.

to be continued . . .

Jackson in HRPG-World: 3-1 A Sticky Starting Scrap

Time to set Jackson off on another (mis)adventure.  No prizes for guessing the game.


Jackson in HRPG-World: 3-1 A Sticky Starting Scrap

“Jakasan.”

Mostly asleep, Ian Jackson wasn’t sure if the feminine voice was coming from the waking world or his dreams.

“Ian Jakasan.”

“Fuck off,” Jackson said.  He tried to bury his head deeper into his pillow.

A lightning bolt came out of the blue and grounded through Jackson’s dozing form.  He jumped about a foot off the mattress.  His sheets slipped off his convulsing form.  His hair stood on end and his teeth clenched together so hard they would have bitten off the end of his tongue had it not already been turned back on itself like a slug dipped in salt.

It also woke him up.

After his body stopped twitching uncontrollably he took stock of his surroundings.  It wasn’t the bed he’d gone to sleep in.  It looked similar, but this was a different plain little bed in a different plain little bedroom.  It had a single bookcase and single wardrobe, same as the plain little bedroom he’d fallen asleep in, but they were in different positions.  Like the other bedroom, the room looked a prop department’s idea of what a plain little peasant’s bedroom should look like rather than a room someone actually lived in.  That was because it wasn’t real.  It was part of a computer game and Jackson was stuck inside it.

There was an angel floating at the foot of his bed.  She had massive tits.

She smiled beatifically at Jackson like a mother to her brainless brat.  She might have had a kind, maternal face, but the rest of her body was one hundred percent MILF, with the emphasis on the F.  Her white dress was slinky rather than saintly.  It hugged her shapely figure like a second skin and a split down the sides exposed the creamy-white flesh of her thighs.  A pendant with a large red stone drew attention to her neck and the deep creamy valley of her cleavage beneath it.

Doubtless the Bible Belt would not approve of this depiction of an angel.  Jackson supposed it could have been worse.  At least she wasn’t blindfolded and tied up with bondage chains.

Jackson was too busy ogling her babelicious figure to notice she’d opened her mouth and was speaking to him.  Not that it mattered.  He couldn’t understand a word she was saying.

This was a first.  Before, it hadn’t mattered where Jackson had been or who he’d talked to, everyone had spoken English back at him.  Was this some kind of glitch or bug?

“I don’t understand,” he said to the angel in white.

She paused and asked him what he guessed was a question from the intonation of her voice.  Jackson shrugged.  He hadn’t understood that either.

The angel nodded and then carried on with her spiel in a language that was incomprehensible to Jackson.

Not carry on, repeat, he realized.  He recognized some words.  It sounded a lot like the same speech she’d tried to give him earlier.

“I don’t understand,” Jackson interrupted, growing frustrated.

The angel paused and asked him another, or even the same, question.  Jackson didn’t understand, so he shrugged again.  This time he was sure the angel was repeating the same speech right from the beginning.

Stupid game.  It must have got stuck on the wrong language.

This time when the angel asked the question again he smiled brightly and nodded.  If he didn’t the angel would just keep repeating the same piece over and over.  Besides, he didn’t need to understand what she was saying, it was the same usual shit every JRPG started with.

I, angel of the giant mammaries, have chosen you to save the world/princess from the evil dragon/sorcerer/demon king.  You of all the stupid-haired kids with unfeasibly large swords are the most likely to complete this arduous quest despite currently being a level one weakling that would immediately expire if the wild dogs roaming around the second village so much as sneezed on you.  Now go, achieve your destiny, slaughter all the wildlife between here and the final castle while amassing enough to gold to crash the economies of every kingdom in the land.  You will, of course, be able to carry this gold—all of it—around in your pockets.

As she spoke Jackson’s gaze dropped to the level of her cleavage and stayed there.  He wouldn’t have minded putting his hands on those and giving them a good squeeze.  Did wanting to squeeze the tits of an angel automatically doom him to hell?

Nah.  She wasn’t real.  She was just pixels, same as everything else around here.

Finally, her speech given, the angel faded away and Jackson was able to get back to sleep.  He wasn’t out for long before a commotion outside woke him up.

Good morning, this is the alarm call for your tutorial quest.

He wondered what would happen if he stuffed a pillow over his ears and ignored it.  No, he couldn’t risk it.  It might trigger some kind of non-standard game over that left him trapped here for eternity.

Swearing, Jackson got out of bed and got dressed.  He found an impressive-looking sword that must be shit because it was his starting weapon and all starting weapons were shit.

At least there were no NPC parents waiting in the kitchen to bore him with their single line of encouragement repeated over and over.  That meant he must be the poor little orphan destined to save the entire kingdom or some other shit like that.  It also meant this shitty little hovel was his alone.  Nothing a good bulldozer couldn’t fix.

Outside, the inhabitants of Ye Olde Little Rustic Starting Village were running around and screaming their heads off as if the sky was falling down on top of them.  They were also screaming the same gibberish language Jackson couldn’t understand.

A blessing.  At least he didn’t need to worry about talking to each and every one of them on the off chance one of them had a vital piece of information he needed to find out.  Smiling, he gave the panicking villagers a cheery wave and walked in the direction of their pointing fingers as nonchalantly as if he was heading down to the local 7-11 to pick up a case of beer.

Given he was level one and this was the starting village, it was probably something super lame like a butterfly or raccoon.

That pissed him off the most.  When They—whoever They were—moved him from game to game, couldn’t they at least let him keep his levels.  It fucking sucked having to start right from level one again and again.

Jackson reached the edge of the village where a dark, primeval forest encroached.

It was going to be a butterfly, or a dog, or maybe even a lone ferocious goblin.

Ooh, the terror.

Or it could be one of those stupid auto-lose fights against some enormous dragon or similar monster.  Jackson wasn’t relishing that prospect.  Sure, he couldn’t Game Over, but being stomped into the ground by a level bajillion dragon was fucking painful when you were actually in the game for real.

He walked between the trees.  This was where the villagers had pointed to.  No humongous dragon, which was a relief, but also no stupid butterfly or pansy level one monster either.  Was this the right place?

Battle music played in the background.

Yep, it was the right place.

A blue splodge jumped out into the centre of the path and wobbled like an oversized plate of jelly.

Of course, he should have known.  Obviously it was going to be a blue slime.  It was always a fucking blue slime.

The blue blob bobbed and quivered.  Protoplasm erupted out of the top and formed into the shape of a sexy young woman with humongous, jiggling boobies.

Jackson’s mouth fell open.

to be continued . . .


The posting schedule might be a little erratic for the next week or so while my aging laptop decides whether or not it's going to expire completely.  Sunday hopefully, a few days later if not.

Book Review: Gary McMahon - Rain Dogs

Here's one of the books that was recommended to me when I asked for good contemporary British horror.  It was a runner-up in the British Fantasy Awards in 2009.

Hmm . . . yeah.  It’s definitely a book of two halves.  The first half is dull, dreary rubbish and there were a number of times where I was tempted to throw the book aside and move onto something else.  There’s a working-class family man returning home after a stint in prison for killing a burglar and a woman in an abusive marriage who’s able to see ghosts, but it’s all mired in the rut of miserable characters living miserable lives British horror really needs to break out of.

Thankfully the story comes back from its half-time oranges with a lot more vim and vigour.  The eponymous Rain Dogs are an imaginative concept, the pervasive rain evokes a strong atmosphere and the pieces do come together in a decent—and thankfully coherent!—climax.

It’s hard to know where to rate this one.  There’s an interesting horror story here; it’s a shame getting through the first half is such a boring slog.

Book Review: AJ Kirby - Paint This Town Red

Time for another book review.

AJ Kirby’s Paint This Town Red came to my attention after it made the shortlist of The Guardian Books not-entirely-serious Not The Booker awards.  It surprised me because the synopsis was clearly of a horror novel and horror novels are normally greeted with the same enthusiasm as finding dog shit on an expensive shoe in literary circles.  I picked it up because it sounded interesting from the reader reviews: population cut off on an island, man-eating panthers and a shark that makes Jaws look like a minnow.

Those reader reviews—total bullshit.

The book is best described as if Stephen King went to Lindisfarne, where it’s wet, miserable and everyone has shit sex lives.  It wants to be a Koontz or King epic, but everybody’s a bit British and incompetent.  The source of supernatural evil is a bit crap.  It sends a shark (whoops, can’t swim on land), a sick panther (that doesn’t eat anyone) and a giant vulture that manages at best a score draw with a light aircraft.  Overall it’s more Fawlty Towers than The Overlook.

The Guardian's Sam Jordison gave the book a complete shellacking.

It’s not quite as bad as all that.  Despite the large cast of characters and extensive back story, it never felt a drag to read and I raced through it in a couple of days.  The book does have that important ‘page turner’ quality.  I also enjoyed how Kirby slowly revealed fragments of a past tragedy involving a mysterious doomsday cult through the recollections of his diverse cast.

Sadly, after an interesting setup, the book doesn’t maintain the early promise.  It doesn’t really come together.  The characters are well-drawn but remain static.  The supernatural threats turn out to be rather ineffectual and purposeless.  Eventually the book peters out in one of those annoying some-weird-shit-happens-and-that’s-it endings that are always a letdown.

New Story - "Trent the Traitor"

One of the canards of horror is nothing is scarier than things left to the imagination.  There’s a germ of truth there, but too often writers use it as a convenient excuse to bugger off home early.  Look, here’s my spooky house—Woooh.  Here’s my scary atmosphere—Waaah.  Here’s my terrifying monster—Actually, you can create that yourself, because . . . Nothing is Scarier than the Imagination.

Um, yeah, right.  I didn’t realise I picked this horror story up from IKEA, or that I’d have to head out into the forest and chop the wood myself.

Sometimes it’s right for the story and other times the Fade to Black to preserve a reader’s delicate sensibilities can feel like a cop out.  Lovecraft famously left the finer details of his eldritch abominations to be filled in by the reader, usually because his protagonist’s mind had already disintegrated by that point, but there was at least enough for Chaosium to fill Call of Cthulhu bestiaries with some weird and wonderful critters.

If you’ve got an imagination you might as well use it.  Sometimes that’s what the reader is expecting and wants.  Especially in erotica, where drawing the curtain across before getting to the juicy squelchy parts is firmly disapproved of.

Hence this outpouring from the noxious regions of my mind:

“And not only with each other: Trent saw humans caught up in the bacchanalian frenzy.  The demons used them like toys made of flesh.  He watched as a plump demon with the glistening black skin of a leech embrace a muscular man.  The over-cushioned lips of her vagina sucked in the man’s penis, sucked, and the man’s skin was torn away like pink tissue sliding over a raw hunk of meat.  A fiend with the head of a fish rammed a cock the length and girth of a moray eel into the vagina of a petite little blonde girl doubled over in front of it.  It pushed hips forward and the belly, then whole body of the girl swelled up like a water-filled balloon, swelled up until her eyes bulged, swelled up until something ruptured and white froth tinged with pink poured from her mouth and she deflated like a punctured blow-up doll.  A skinny man struggled in the midst of a group of twisted little goblins.  They drove penises hard like pointed horns into his anus, his mouth, his ears, even his eye sockets.  They tore flesh from the man in ragged strips and wrapped the glistening red bundles of muscle around their cocks and masturbated with them.  A slack-faced woman lay wrapped in the tentacles of some kind of abomination with the upper body of a woman and lower body of a deep-sea nightmare aberration.  The demon’s sinuous arms terminated not in hands but in obscene appendages that resembled the mouths of lampreys.  She fastened them to the woman’s tits and mewled in delight as more of her tentacles slithered up between her captive’s bleeding labia.”

It was originally a two sentence description.  Then I thought, no, that’s not good enough.  They’ll want examples.

(Don’t ask where the examples came from.  I try not to think about it.)

The full story can be found here on Eka’s Portal.

Eka’s Portal is an online Vore community.  Most aspects of Vore don’t appeal to me as a fetish, but there is some crossover with some of the succubus/monster girl stories I write.  It also hits that Erotic Horror sweet spot where arousal, disgust and fear smoosh together in a big gooey ball.

It’s been a while since I posted anything there, so I thought a little hell-space story might make up for it and show I’m still writing and alive.  Enjoy!

As always, if you like the story and haven’t already picked them up, please consider giving some of my books a look.  You’ll like them.

Book Reviews: Carlton Mellick III - Warrior Wolf Women of the Wastelands & The Menstruating Mall

My rant about the relevance of horror fiction nowadays is a perfect excuse to kick off some book reviews I’ve been meaning to post for a while without finding the time.  Yes, I’m another (sort of) horror writer writing about other horror books, but I’m also regarded as the great unwashed self-published slime by anyone who’s anyone. 

Ooh, someone’s chip on their shoulder is showing.

No community connections here.  Unless it’s one of my eXcessica/Literotica stable-mates, in which case I’ll put a ruddy big disclaimer at the top of the post.

First up some Bizarro from the mutton-chopped master of madness, Carlton Mellick III

Warrior Wolf Women of the Wasteland.

Okay, so this is where the hype comes from.  And it’s deserved.  An awesome ride that’s hugely entertaining as well as making mincemeat out of more serious books tackling similar themes.  I love the verve and confidence.  It’s like Mellick is saying, ‘Look, I can create a future world based off of McDonald’s Happy Meals, fill it with furry chicks, giant wolves and multi-armed mutants, and it will still have more to say than any number of serious, dull and downright miserable SF dystopias.’

In a post-apocalyptic future, survivors are living in a walled city surrounded by wasteland.  Authority is what you’d expect if a multinational fast food conglomerate bought the government, judiciary and police force.  There are troubles in happy-happy-we-will-fuck-you-up-if-you’re-not-smiling utopia.  Men are growing extra limbs and the women turn into wolves if they get too sexually aroused.  Just as with everything else defective in modern consumerism, when this happens the unfortunates are thrown out to fend for themselves in a wasteland where female werewolf biker gangs battle mutant armies led by a man with a giant hamburger for a head.

There’s gratuitous weird sex, furry apocalyptic bikers and all kinds of imaginative craziness, but throughout it all Mellick keeps a solid grasp on the fundamentals of plot and character.  Despite the odd building blocks, the story holds the reader’s attention without floating off in a cloud of nonsensical froth.  The only criticism I have is how eager the survivors were willing to throw in the furry bikers.  Mellick does give reasons for the survivor’s actions, but they didn’t seem that strong given how eager the wolf women were to kill them or worse.  It’s a minor blemish in an otherwise thoroughly entertaining read.

I’d love to see this made into a film, but as it would require every litigious corporate fast food behemoth to go out of business first, I suspect it might be a long time coming.  We can all do our part—don’t eat burgers, buy a vindaloo instead!

The Menstruating Mall

This is a shorter read.  Ten characters are trapped in a mall that appears to be menstruating.  Weird shit happens, some of them die, and then the mall and survivors start to change into something else.  Not as strong as Warrior Wolf Women as there isn’t much underpinning the story other than skewering some obvious stereotypes and being weird-as-fuck for the sake of being weird-as-fuck.  Fast, fun and inventive, but by the end of it I found myself sharing the same sentiments as one of the cast when they had their “Screw this, I’m outta here!” moment.

A Succubus for Halloween picks up a review on Monster Librarian

It’s a little ironic.  Last post I was moaning about the lack of places to find reviews of horror books and then I find out one of my collections picked up a nice review on MonsterLibrarian.com last month:

http://www.monsterlibrarian.com/anthologies.htm#A_Succubus_for_Halloween

So this is the point where the sales take off . . . ?

Well, actually no.

The same thing happened when the same collection received a lovely write-up on the Horror Fiction Review.  It’s what I meant last week when I was talking about the difference between “for other fans” and “for other writers”.  Is the audience avid readers looking for the next book to read, or avid writers eager to see how their book will be received?  One is an expanding universe, the other a shrinking bubble.

That’s not a fault of sites like Horror Fiction Review and MonsterLibrarian.com (If you know of any others, please plug them in the comments—I have a kindle, and it’s always hungry for fresh words), they’re doing a fantastic job.  It’s the reality of the world we live in.  If we can’t offer a compelling reason for people to put down their game controllers and TV remotes, then we scribblers of fiction don’t deserve to exist.  Harsh, but that’s how it is.

A review isn’t just an advertisement, it’s also valuable feedback, and especially important if—like me—you’re (sort of) self-published.  The great thing about having no snooty gatekeepers around is it means we can write whatever the hell we want to write.  The bad thing about having no gatekeepers around is there’s no one to stop us from walking out of the front door without any clothes on.  A positive review is a nice confidence boost.  It means I’m not deluded, I’m not wasting my time and I can write well enough to justify a seat at the table.

That’s not the end of it, though.  It’s an okay review rather than an “Ohmigod!  You must read this writer RIGHT NOW!” kind of review.  Being able to sit at the table without feeling like I’m dirty bum fresh from the street is nice, but being competent is not enough.  I’m not a Lovecraft, a Barker or a King.  I need to work harder on my craft and write better stories (while still keeping the same level of heat as a blazing hot porn film, because that’s my thang, and we all need a thang).

I also need to remember to send my other books out for review . . .

(and finish Succubus Summoning 201.  I know, I’m sorry)

Horror doesn’t need to be literary, but it needs to be horror.

I’ve been ruffling a few feathers again.

This Guardian article, “Horror: a genre doomed to literary hell?”, is exactly the sort of bunkum that gets written when literary types point their condescending noses at those horrible plebby “genres”.  It’s a nonsense argument.  Asking why horror isn’t more “literary” is like asking why Slayer don’t sound more like Coldplay.  They’re different beasts, with different aims.  Horror works best when it’s hitting the senses at a visceral level.  Sometimes it’s raw and not very pretty, but that’s fine so long as it evokes the right response in the reader.

That’s about as much of a rebuttal as needs to be written and it wasn’t the article but the clip-clopping of comments beneath it that dragged me out from under my bridge.  People offered up their lists of talented writers and argued this as evidence of horror fiction being in rude health.

I’m sorry, but this isn’t true.

It’s closed bubble thinking.  It’s one of the perversities of modern technology.  While the whole world is opened up to anyone with a keyboard, it’s easy to fall into little circles where shared thoughts and opinions are bounced around, amplified and magnified out of all proportion to their relevance to the rest of the world.

Step outside the bubble.  Who’s reading?  Who’s commenting?  Who’s reviewing?  Who’s recommending?

Who cares?

On my last visit to England I popped into my local branch of Waterstones.  Next to several shelves full of Twilight clones was the horror section.  The only books I saw by writers that hadn’t been fixtures on the horror shelves for at least two decades were Seth Grahame-Smith’s Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, and Adam Nevill’s Apartment 16.

This is not a sign of health.

Step outside of the usual writer’s haunts and go clip-clopping into the tangled jungle of the World Wide Web.  Look for the places regular(ish) people hang out.  Look at how much is written about films, music, TV shows, computer games, anime.  Look at how little is written about books.

Even in The Guardian’s own book section.  Take a look at this thread recommending horror books to read for Halloween.  Spot a work that was written this century.

This is not a sign of health.

It’s not a mainstream thing either.  I have a fairly esoteric taste in music, yet if I want to find the best new death metal and black metal albums released there are plenty of online resources I can use to help me discover brilliant new bands.  Ditto for games and movies.  For horror books the best I’ve been able to manage is to slum around articles like this and see what gets recommended in the comments section.

That’s not to say there aren’t online resources.  Nick Cato and his team do a wonderful job with The Horror Fiction Review, there’s plenty of interesting stuff on the VanderMeer’s Weird Fiction Review, and there are also the websites of award givers like the HWA and BFS.  The crucial difference is these horror fiction resources are (mostly) written by writers, for other writers, while the others are written by fans, for other fans.  It’s crucial because the other media reviews don’t require me to disentangle the tainted web of who knows who to determine whether the recommendation/review/award is unbiased enough to be trustworthy.

This is not a sign of health.

We have a finite amount of leisure time and there are plenty of competing activities to devour it.  If we want people to read horror fiction we have to give them a compelling reason do so, otherwise they’re going to spend that time watching TV, going to see films or blowing zombie’s heads off on their Playstation.

Talk of horror becoming more “literary” raises the hairs on the back of my hands.  Trying to appease literary critics is a trap that has swallowed many a promising horror writer.  For me, the problem with a lot of modern horror is the writers are trying to court a literary audience that will never like, appreciate or understand them.  It’s like the hapless nerd of a teen movie trying to impress the prettiest, most popular girl in class when it’s obvious she’s a bitch and the right girl for him is the one hiding behind glasses and mousey hair.

This doesn’t mean horror fiction has to be shit, but first and foremost it needs to be aware of what it’s trying to do.  It’s a rollercoaster.  It’s a way for people to confront their fears from a position of safety.  It’s a spike in the heart rate, a prickle on the back on the neck, a lurking miasma of dread, a bowl of ice in the pit of the stomach—all from the comfort of the reader’s armchair.  The very good modern horror films and computer games know and provide this.

Horror fiction doesn’t need to become more literary, it needs to find and re-engage with an audience that, neglected, has turned to other genres and media for its thrills.  It needs to burst out of the bubble clique, grab readers by the throat and shout “Read Me!  Put down that remote and Read Me!  Put down that controller and Read Me!  Then go and tell all your friends to Read Me!  Because I’m the scariest, spookiest, creepiest, eeriest, most spine-tingling muthafucka you’ll ever spend an evening with.”

DaBigBoom in HRPG-World: 2-9 Exploding Kiwis in the Nether Regions

And finally we reach an end.  Fifi finishes Jackson off.


DaBigBoom in HRPG-World: 2-9 Exploding Kiwis in the Nether Regions

“Now where were we?” Fifi asked.  Her hand caressed the back of DaBigBoom’s neck.  She stared at him, her eyes bright.  And hard.  Like precious stones.  “Oh yes.  Who are you, really?”

DaBigBoom tried again to tell her his real name.  “I’m Da—”

Her tail came down and took in his whole length with a wet schlub.  Jackson twitched as his cock was once again sheathed in soft, pliable flesh.  The tail attached itself to his groin and began to pulse and suck obscenely.  Warm juices were exuded over his helpless member and lascivious flesh wriggled up and down his shaft.  He moaned and writhed as Fifi expertly used her tail to suck him up through higher planes of pleasure.

“The name isn’t important.  It’s just a label.”

Her moist eyes seemed to expand large enough to swallow him whole.  The tail worked up and down like a piston, making lewd squelches as it sucked and squeezed him into paroxysms of ecstasy.  His hips were already responding with sympathetic twitches.

“Tell me who you are and how you came to be here,” Fifi asked, light yet irresistible.

“I don’t know,” Jackson moaned.  He writhed in pleasure as her tail continued to pleasure him.  “I was playing a game, a computer game, and I got sucked in.  I think.  I can’t remember exactly.  All I know was one moment I was living a normal life in the real world and the next I was in the game.  Not just this game.  Other games too.”

Fifi’s tail slowed down and began to gently pulsate around his cock, teasing him with soft, insistent tugs.  She rubbed her leg against his.  A gurgling sound travelled down her tail and Jackson shivered as his cock was flooded with a slithery, licentious liquid.  The bulbous jar massaged it into the stretched skin of his erection with lewd pulses.

“I play them,” he continued.  “I thought if I completed the game I’d get back to the real world, but it doesn’t happen.  I keep getting moved on from game to game before I can get near the end.”

“Fascinating,” Fifi said.

Jackson groaned.  Her tail had sucked him to orgasm.  His muscles bunched and spasmed as he sprayed cum right up into the cloying grip of her tail.

“A gamer from the human world, the real one.  And not just an avatar, here in the flesh.  How can that be?”

She leaned over and pressed her soft lips against his in a kiss.  Jackson came again.  Or maybe it was a continuation of the last orgasm.  The succubus had him completely in the palm of her hand.  She reinforced the point by cupping his overworked balls in her hand and tickling the flesh behind with the points of her nails.

“No wonder you taste so delectable,” Fifi said with a contented sigh.

Jackson was starting to get afraid.  A steady stream of single digit numbers floated up from his body as her tail milked semen from him.  That didn’t concern him so much.  It was part of the game.  Pixels.  It was what the succubus was doing to him and how it made him feel inside that was worrying him.  He felt weird—tugged about and twisted around.

“Please,” Jackson said.  “I just want to get out and get back home.”

Pink sparks crackled around the end of her tail.  Jackson felt it grow warm around his cock, but pleasantly so.  Electricity sparkled across Jackson’s nerve endings.  His cock stayed hard and throbbing, eager to disgorge another load.  Fifi continued to squeeze and suck on him with her tail.

“Who welcomed . . .”

She paused while Jackson bucked and thrashed in the throes of another orgasm.

“Who welcomed you to the game?  The first one?” she asked.

Her tail continued to pulse with slow throbs.

“Welcome?  No one, I think,” Jackson said.  The inside of his innermost jacket was soaked with sweat.

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Fifi said.  “There are rules.  Someone should have been there to meet you and give you your quest.  A gamer must always have a quest.  Oh well.”

Numbers continued to stream up into the sky.  Jackson screwed up his eyes as the channel within her tail contracted around him.  Soft flesh squeezed up against his swollen glans in a wet kiss.  The bulb squeezed right down, preparing for one last, final suck.

A loud cheer went up from the direction of the castle.  Fifi lifted her head, glanced over and tsked.

“That fat pile of blubber always was a most unimpressive boss,” she said.

Her tail detached from him with a noisy wet squelch.  Sickly white streams of cum dribbled down his shaft for a few moments before the flow dried up.

“Pihanga’s—your—forces have won this level.  This battle is over.”

She stood up.  She was about to turn and walk away when she looked down at DaBigBoom’s jackets and mmmed.  She reached down, pulled the outermost one off him and tried it on.  It was blue with yellow trim, with broad shoulders and long like a cape.  It looked good on her, which was stating the obvious; her supernatural sexiness meant she could wear anything and make it look good.

“Wait,” he called out as she was about to leave.  “What’s this quest I’m supposed to complete?  Where—how—do I find it?”

Fifi shrugged.  “I’m sure it will become apparent.  These things usually do.”

Her hair changed colour.  Violet flowed out from her scalp and down her silky long hair, washing the black away.  Her skin lightened in colour and a spiralling black tattoo blossomed on the left side of her body like twisted ivy.  She struck a sexy pose for DaBigBoom.

“It’s been most enjoyable, but I’m needed in another game.”

The sexiness of her body was breathtaking.  DaBigBoom felt like he’d just gone thirty rounds with Lennox Lewis, but a glance from her sultry eyes, a glimpse of the creamy white bulges underneath her jacket, the hairless folds of her sex, and his body wanted to do it all over again.  She knew it and her eyes glittered with amusement.  The orifice at the end of her tail dilated.  DaBigBoom thought it was winking at him.

“It’s a hentai game,” Fifi said, her eyes lighting up with lust.  “If I beat the hero I get to do whatever I want to him.”

And this wasn’t a hentai game? DaBigBoom thought.  He looked down at the slimy mess of his crotch.  Sure seemed perverted enough.

“Maybe it’ll be you,” she giggled.

She put a hand to her lips and blew him a kiss that took the form of a sparkly red heart.  It floated through the air and burst against his skin with a sound like silvery bells.

A 1 appeared above DaBigBoom’s head.  He popped and vanished from the game board in a puff of smoke.

* * * *

DaBigBoom opened his eyes.  Three faces were looking down at him.  Pihanga and Fiore were already familiar to him.  The third wasn’t as familiar, but DaBigBoom remembered seeing her outside the hospital tent back at the castle.  She smiled and looked down at him with wide blue eyes that held a smidgeon too much crazy for DaBigBoom’s comfort.

“Good as new,” the girl with long black hair and unsettling eyes said.

“We won,” Fiore said.  “You held off the succubus long enough for us to kick Wally’s flabby ass.”

“In recognition I hereby promote you to the rank of sergeant,” Pihanga said.  “Now get out of bed and follow me.  We’ve the next level to complete.”

“Ahem,” the girl—DaBigBoom assumed doctor or nurse despite her wearing a costume that looked more suited to a shrine maiden from Medieval Japan—said.  She held out a hand.

Pihanga tossed her a coin.

The girl looked down at the single coin in her palm and frowned.  “Hey.  Resurrection and full HP restore.  This isn’t enough.”

Pihanga pointed to DaBigBoom’s yellow baseball cap.  “K’winny,” she said.

The girl looked dubiously at DaBigBoom but didn’t push it further.  DaBigBoom shrugged apologetically and followed Pihanga and Fiore out of the hospital.

Jackson in HRPG-World: 2 End


As some have already guessed, the main game being parodied is the complete lunacy of Disgaea.  Disgaea (there are four main games in the series, although I've only played the first on a DS emulator) is a tactical RPG that also spawned an anime series.  It's great fun to play and has plenty of moments of wicked humour.  The other game I spliced in is an old arcade classic: The New Zealand Story.

Neither are adult games.  Disgaea does have a succubus monster type and while she has plenty of "bounce", she's harmless innuendo at best.  Harmless . . . unless you have a cesspool for an imagination like me.

If you enjoyed this series, please support my writing by picking up one of my books (which I'm sure you'll also enjoy).
I'm going to give the series a break for a couple of weeks while I continue to work on Succubus Summoning 201.  Jackson will return in "A Sticky Starting Scrap."