Oct 212020

Yesterday I finished the first draft on my next interactive erotica book. I should have finished it on Monday, but I decided that it needed one more choice before ending. These kinds of last minute changes can be annoying, but they are also impossible to plan for. There is a rhythm in an interactive story where you as the reader just feel like there is a choice coming. When that choice doesn’t appear, well you feel cheated.

With the first draft done, I won’t look at it again until next week when I begin my edits. That gives me five glorious days to myself where I can do anything. The sky is the limit! I don’t have to worry about writing and I can just chill.

So of course, my brain is thinking about what I want to write next. The brain is an asshole.

I have been reading a book about different famous chefs. Often, they got started by getting interested in cooking and enrolling in local classes. A lot of these classes were just one hour a day.

I got jealous reading this and wished I could go to cooking school as well. Then it hit me. I have YouTube. I have a ton of cookbooks. Why not make my own cooking school and teach my ass some things?

Since I will not be traveling this year thanks to COVID, I have decided to go to self-taught cooking school. There are a dozen things I have been too intimidated to try, or just flat out suck at that I want to improve on. This year I will make a roux on a reliable basis! This is the year I poach an egg! I am going to figure out how to make that crispy mojo half-chicken that I used to get all the time at that Caribbean place in Atlanta. My time is now!

Cooking is also a nice distraction from the election. I have voted and there is nothing left for me to do, but my anxiety feels different. Deep down, I feel like if I let my guard down then somehow that Orange Shit Stain of a President will get elected again. It is completely irrational but that is where I am. I doubt I will be able to relax until that motherfucker gets tossed out of the White House.

So that is my advice to you. Pick up some sort of hobby for the next month or two. It doesn’t have to be something grand. Write some porn. Study that weird subject you don’t have time for. Just give your brain something to do during this pandemic except worry and fret.

Oct 142020

I awoke in silence. The eight hour mp3 of waves had turned off, despite only being midnight. The heater was silent even though there was a chill in the air. There were no ticks from the clock and I had wound it just before going to bed.

The silence was broken by a gasp. It wasn’t me. This was a feminine voice. It sounded like it came from beside me.

There was a squishy sound. I knew it well. Something slick plunged into something wet. It was fast. The wet sounds were accompanied by moans.

My cock hardened. My mouth watered. A terrible need rose within me.

I rolled over on my side towards the sounds. There was no one on the bed with me, but there was a depression in the sheets. I felt around and there was the wet spot.

The wet gushing sound grew louder. The moans became more insistent. The bed shifted as something unseen writhed on my sheets.

I brought my wet fingers to my lips. The musky smell made me moan. My dick pulsed within my boxers. It was tempting to rub the slick discharge onto my hard member.

There was a whisper. I strained to hear it. It was much softer than the loud sounds of something pushing into a damp tight place. I could almost make out the words.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” they whispered.

The bed creaked. I reached out and felt a dip in the bed. The wet spot had grown. My hand was soaked.

The cries grew louder. Sharp, desperate shouts of pure pleasure rang in my ears. The mattress shook.

I couldn’t resist. Temptation broke me once more. My hand went to my cock. Wet fingers wrapped around my hard length.

Silence. The bed stopped moving. My fingers were no longer wet.

The sound of the ocean returned to the speakers. The heater buzzed to life. Tick-tock went the clock.

I stroked myself with dry fingers. My moans were soft whimpers. My seed erupted forth and made a lonely mess in my boxers.

Oct 072020

Explorer’s Log: I have arrived at the star system designated “The Queen’s Leather-Studded Kiss in the Sand,” by Royal Astronomers. It is a sparse system with only two worlds. One planet is devoted to agriculture, while the other world is rich with mineral resources.

Upon arriving in the system, the local authorities contacted me and made a request. It appears that one of their Champions, the Champion of Math, was investigating a distress call from a transport ship. The Champion went to investigate twelve hours ago, and they have not heard back. No other champions are nearby, and the authorities have asked me to investigate.

It is curious that they would ask me instead of relying on their own military. Apparently, my past sexual encounters with Champions has given me a special status among these people. They think of me as some sort of hero. This is ridiculous, but I will maintain this delusion to build good will for when the Queen’s invasion force comes. I will investigate and attempt to save this Champion. End explorer’s Log.

Explorer’s Personal Log: A Champion of Math? No wonder he got into trouble. I doubt there are many problems that can be solved with a clever application of fractions. At least every Champion has been a good fuck, so I have that to look forward to.

Vaquel Di stepped out of the airlock and onto the Threshold. She wore a grey skintight spacesuit that clung to her generous curves. A laser pistol was in one hand and a wrist scanner on the other. Transparent glassteel encased her head, exposing a brown face with short pink hair. She narrowed her eyes and looked around.

A corridor stretched from left to right. Dim lights provided weak illumination. Something green and organic looking clung to the walls. It reminded Vaquel of secretions.

“Main power appears to be out,” Vaquel reported over the communication line back to her ship. “Emergency power appears to still be running. Air quality is good. Gravity is still on. There is some sort of green shit on the walls. That can’t be good.”

Vaquel paused for Chairbot to respond. All she heard was static.

“Great, something is jamming the signal,” Vaquel said. Communications might be down, but she would keep talking for the recorder. It would make things easier when she reported in her log later.

The green secretions pulsed. The next instant, the grey steel of the corridor was gone and in its place were yellow stone. Bright torches filled the area with light. Murals of sexual organs covered the walls. Some of the organs were self-explanatory to Vaquel but others defied her attempts to understand them.

“Queen’s tit,” Vaquel whispered. She stared at a meter-long cock that curved in interesting ways.

The murals vanished. The metal and secretions corridor of the Threshold returned. The emergency lights bathed everything in faint light.

“Okay, that was weird,” Vaquel said. “I should turn my ass right back around and go.”

Vaquel thought about the mural. Some of those sex organs had intriguing applications. Maybe she should investigate a little more.

As Vaquel’s eyes adjusted to the dimness, she noticed a faint green light running along the walls. It pulsed to the right. Something was flowing in that direction.

Vaquel switched on her wrist light and walked forward.

The corridor turned a corner into an intersection. There was a lifelike metal statue of a Goxx woman up against the wall. The metal was the same shade of grey as Goxx skin. Her tusked mouth was open in terror or pleasure. Both of her giant breasts were tipped with hard nipples. The legs were parted to reveal two vaginal slits, one above the other. The green secretions covered each sex and led down the wall to the floor.

“Hmm,” Vaquel said. “There is no such thing as ‘lifelike’ on a creepy ship,” she said. She scanned the statue. Yes, there was metal but there was also biomatter. This was a person.

There was another flash of green light. The intersection vanished and Vaquel stood on a stage. The bright lights prevented her from seeing who was in the audience, but she could feel a thousand eyes on her.

Also on the stage was a Goxx woman. It was the same woman that Vaquel saw against the wall. She was on her hands and knees. Something red and yellow fucked her from behind with twin cocks. The Goxx screamed in violent ecstasy with every thrust.

Vaquel stared at what was fucking the Goxx. It was a species Vaquel had never seen before. Fur covered its bipedal body. A dozen horns protruded from its head. There were no eyes, just black holes set in the skull. A spiked tail swished behind him.

“Hello, Vaquel” the fucker said in perfect Euphorian. “You can be next. Just bend over and offer yourself to me.”

There was cheering from the unseen audience. They clearly liked the idea.

The Goxx woman screamed. The fucker slammed into her harder. He reached for her bald head and pulled it back. The Goxx woman bent back at a nearly impossible angle.

“It is a tempting offer,” Vaquel said and it was. She could hear the twin gushings of the woman’s vaginas. The impact of his hips made the alien’s body quiver. The smell of sex was overwhelming.

Wait, what had happened to her helmet? It was gone. Vaquel looked down at her naked body. Her dark nipples stood at attention. Desire dripped from her pink bush. More disturbing was that her laser pistol and equipment belt was gone!

“Do it, Vaquel,” the furry fucker said. “Bend over and I’ll fuck your pussy and your ass at the same time.”

The Goxx woman looked at Vaquel. Her lips moved in a silent plea. She was mouthing something. Vaquel read her lips. She was saying, “save yourself”.

Everything changed. Vaquel was back at the intersection. The glassteel encased her head and skintight material covered her body. The laser pistol was firm in her hand.

“Queen’s tit,” Vaquel whispered. She touched between her thighs. The spacesuit pressed down on her soaked sex.

Vaquel’s mind raced. Was she hallucinating? Possibly. Was it telepathy? That might account for the imagined nakedness, and maybe how the fucker knew her name.

The green pulses continued down another corridor. The secretions were heavier in that direction. Vaquel walked in that direction.

The hallway opened into a mess hall. Goxx sat at tables, frozen in place and covered in metal. Oily green secretion clung to them. Each of the aliens were naked. The pulsing green energy led down a flight of stairs.

Vaquel walked faster. The eating area was too open for her tastes. Something could hide among the frozen bodies and she wouldn’t notice it until it was too late.

As Vaquel was about the reach the stairs, there was a flash of green. The mess hall vanished and she was in a forest. Humidity clung to her naked skin. A hot wind dusted her body with yellow spores. The spores vibrated on her skin, making her even more aware of her sensitized skin.

Goxx moaned all around. A dozen aliens, male and female, were rooted in the ground. Their feet had turned into wood, anchoring them in place. Leaves sprouted from their heads. Males had giant red fruits encasing their double cocks, while women had their sexes stuffed with pulsing green fruit. All of them bucked their hips to fuck the fruits.

Vaquel approached a female Goxx. Her right breast had bite marks. A third green fruit had been crammed up her ass. Tears ran down her cheeks but her mouth hung open in pleasure.

“What is happening to you?” Vaquel asked.

The woman looked down at Vaquel. Her body writhed like a sensual dance. She opened her mouth as if to answer but her body shook with pleasure. Her face contorted as she was about to come.

Vaquel recognized the signs and stepped to the side. Musk sprayed out of the alien’s pussies. The Goxx ejaculated whenever they came, the women from their sexes and the men from their mouths. Illusion or not, Vaquel had no interest in getting their musk on her.

A male cried out behind Vaquel. She turned around and watched. The Goxx bucked his hips, thrusting with all he had but the blue fruit clung to his cocks. He fucked with increasing desperation.

A surge of arousal went through Vaquel. She didn’t understand what was happening, but the primal motion of the alien’s body was universal. Her pussy responded with need and she placed a hand between her thighs.

As soon as Vaquel’s fingers touched her wet pussy, the forest shimmered. The pollen vanished from her skin. She rubbed faster and the humid air went away. A few strokes later and the forest vanished and was replaced by the mess hall.

“Fucking weird,” Vaquel said. She rubbed the spacesuit stretched over her pussy. “Self-stimulation appears to disturb the hallucinations.”

Vaquel kept her hand between her legs. She rubbed herself as she headed down the stairs. It made for an awkward descent, but she wasn’t going to take any risks.

The green pulsing continued down a new corridor. Vaquel rubbed herself as she walked past more frozen Goxx. They appeared to be covered in the same metal that the ship was made of. She detected vital signs, which meant they should be alive, but she didn’t understand how.

The secretions led Vaquel to a door. Goxx hands reached up from the floor. Vaquel wondered where the rest of the Goxx’s body were. Could they be trapped under the floor?

Vaquel tried the door handle. Machinery hummed. Warning lights flashed on a panel. The hiss of air told her the door was going through a safety cycle of some kind.

The world flashed green. Vaquel cried out as she dropped into a mass of wiggling bodies. Skin touched her skin. Something kissed her nipple. A hand squeezed her ass. Something thick pulsed against the arch of her foot.

Everything was dark. Vaquel could barely breathe. Sweaty bodies pressed against her from all side. She tried to touch ground and just kept slipping downward.

A cock brushed Vaquel’s lips. Thighs clenched around her arm and she felt a slick pussy grind against her elbow. Someone grabbed her breast and squeezed. Hot seed splashed onto the back of her leg.

“Just an illusion, just an illusion, just an illusion,” Vaquel repeated.

“No, it isn’t, Vaquel,” a woman’s voice said. It was right beside Vaquel’s ear.

Vaquel tried to touch her pussy. It was impossible. The bodies were too damn tight around her. She couldn’t move.

“Relax,” the woman’s voice said. “Relax and sink. Drop down to the deepest depths. Sink forever in writhing flesh.”

A mouth pressed against Vaquel’s sex. She cried out and a large breast flattened against her face. More seed shot onto her back, sticky and hot. She bit down on the breast in her face and enjoyed the soft flesh between her teeth.

Vaquel shuddered. It was not the worse thing she had experienced. Part of her was tempted to give it a try. She could just stop fighting and sink. Bodies and genitals would rub against her. It couldn’t last forever, no matter what the voice said.


She wasn’t so sure.

Worse, what would happen if this faded away and Vaquel returned back to the Threshold? Would she be trapped inside solid metal? Or could she sink so far that she ended up in the void of space?

Vaquel reached around with her foot until she felt something solid. It might have been a shoulder or an ass. She planted her foot on the unknown body part and stretched her leg. Vaquel went up. It was only a little bit, but it was a start.

Step by step, Vaquel ascended the twisting storm of bodies. She learned to move her arms just slowly enough that it got around wiggling flesh. When she found a hungry mouth, she learned to use it as an anchor to push the rest of her body. Hard cocks made great handles. Wet cunts lubricated her body to slip even further.



Up Vaquel went until her hand touched open air. She cried out and kicked off a flat breast. Her head emerged from the bodies into open sunlight. She pushed herself up and someone’s shoulders and looked around.

An ocean surrounded her. Instead of water, it was copulating bodies stretching out to the horizon.

“Queen’s tit,” Vaquel swore. This was impossible.

The light dimmed. The bobbing shoulders turned into a hard floor. She was back on the ship. There were less hands sticking out of the floor than there was before.

The door opened. Vaquel ran through it.

On the other side was a medical bay of some sort. Green secretions covered everything. Something glowed in the middle of the room. It was another statue, but this one wasn’t a Goxx.

The statue was a woman, almost Euphorian in appearance. The woman had an exquisitely beautiful face. Full lips were slightly parted, as if gasping. Large eyes, half-closed in the act of the seduction.

Vaquel’s heart ached when she looked upon the face. Through tremendous effort, she looked away from the statue’s face to look at the rest of their body. The statue was sitting, though it was still taller than Vaquel. Giant breasts flopped from her chest. She was sitting with her legs spread. Someone was between her legs, but it was hard to tell in the dim light.

“Let me guess,” Vaquel said out loud. “The crew of the Threshold found something weird so they brought it on board. They were hoping for something valuable and instead if took over their ship and tries to kill them. It is the oldest story in space. Dumb asses.”

Vaquel came closer, careful not to look at the face of the statue. A Goxx was lying on the ground with their head crammed into the statue’s enormous. sex. He was naked. His two cocks were limp between his legs. He clutched a weird dial in his hand. The dial had a faint white glow.

“The Champion of Math, I assume,” Vaquel said. “The dial must be your icon, which gives you your power, and only works for you. I don’t know what a Champion of Math does, but other Champions have used their icons to create satellites, zip through a solar system and blow shit up with a single chord of music. We can certainly use whatever you got right now.”

Vaquel approached the Champion. He was made of flesh, not metal. Did that mean he wasn’t as trapped as the others? If so, why was he unconscious?

The Champion was whispering. Vaquel leaned in close.

“Worlds of bliss without end,” the Champion mumbled. “The square root of 765,625 is 875. Planes ever multiplying with every orgasm. The circumference of a circle is 2 times pi times the radius. Submit and know eternal sensation. Sixty plus nine is sixty-nine. Save yourself. Save yourself. Save yourself.”

Vaquel grunted. “I’m trying. I’m going to need your power to get out of here.”

Self-stimulation helped disrupt whatever had been happening, so maybe outside stimulation would work here. Vaquel reluctantly holstered her laser pistol and took a limp phallus in each hand. She gave them a squeeze.

The Champion groaned. Both cocks twitched in her hand.

Vaquel smiled and tugged on each phallus. The gray flesh stiffened in her hand. The spacesuit fabric wasn’t as smooth as Vaquel liked, but damn if she was going to take off any protective gear on this ship. The unconscious Champion was just going to have to make do with gloved hands.

Lights turned on. There was a hum of air ventilators activating. The ship was powering back up.

“Oh, that can’t be good,” Vaquel said. She pulled harder on the Champion’s cocks.

The floor vibrated. More power was being activated. The engines might be back online.

“Where the fuck are you planning to go?” Vaquel asked the statue but making sure not to look at it.

“Home,” a voice, musical and husky, said.

Vaquel felt a flush of dampness inside the crotch of her spacesuit. Did she just gush? From a voice?

“As curious as I am, I do not want to see what you call home,” Vaquel said to the statue. “Something tells me that is a one-way journey.”

Vaquel let go of the Champion’s cocks and touched her belt. There was no more time to waste. The gray fabric of her spacesuit receded from her body, exposing brown flesh, hard nipples, a damp pink bush and a round ass. She grabbed her helmet and took it off.

“Yes, strip for me,” the voice said.

Desire sprayed from Vaquel’s sex. Euphoria swept through her body. It wasn’t quite an orgasm, but it was close.

Vaquel climbed on top of the Champion’s unconscious body. She guided the bottom cock into her slick pussy. The phallus was large, but Vaquel was slick enough to take a torpedo. She sat down and impaled herself on the thick shaft.

“Stop that,” the voice said. It was no longer husky, but crisp with malice. “Accept no pleasure except what I give you.”

“Fuck that,” Vaquel said. The champion’s second cock was stiff in front of her. She spat into both hands and then grabbed the phallus. Clenching with her sex and her hands, she squeezed the Champion’s shafts.

The Champion groaned. His hips lifted, reaching deeper up inside Vaquel. The other cock throbbed in her hands.

Another flash of green. A gentle breeze kissed Vaquel’s naked skin. Blue grass surrounded Vaquel and the Champion. The statue was gone, but the Champion was still mumbling.

Something blocked the sun. Vaquel looked up and saw a giantess. Her skin was green, with white splotches. No, the splotches were glowing humanoids, clinging to the giantess’ skin. The humanoids held onto her skin, kissing and humping.

The giantess squatted down. Vaquel had to lean back to see her face. Desire shot through Vaquel and made her pussy clench. The awfully beautiful face of the statue looked down on her.

“You are a delicious being,” the giantess said. Her voice shook the ground. “Why do you resist us? You would be much happier with us. With me.”

Vaquel’s nipples ached. Her ass ached to be filled. Drool fell from Vaquel’s open lips. She tried to comprehend the sexual allure of the giantess and failed.

But Vaquel kept grinding. She swiveled her hips with the Champion’s cock inside her. Both hands stroked the Champion’s other cock as her mind reeled.

“Stop that,” the giantess said and Vaquel almost obeyed. “Pleasure between mortals is a closed union. Let me fuck you. Just an atom of my essence will make you climax for a decade. We have pleasures you have never dreamed of. There is bliss that will obliterate your senses. Enter me and be consumed in ecstasy.”

The thousand bodies clinging to the giantess moaned. One fell from her massive breast and burned to ash before it hit the ground. The Giantess ran her hands over her body, caressing each one of her tiny pets.

Vaquel clenched tighter and humped faster. She spat into her hands around the Champion’s other cock. Instead of the glory of the giantess, she focused on the thick phallus in her hand and in her pussy.

“Oh, you are stubborn,” the giantess said. She leaned closer. Tits the size of mountains loomed over Vaquel. The glowing bodies grinded harder.

“You fear me, but all beings fear their destiny,” the giantess whispered. Each word petted Vaquel’s body. “You are not meant to die on a planet far from home. You have a higher calling. Come home with me. Bring your curiosity, your appetites, and your wickedness. Come home and be reborn in a thousand years as something wonderous. Become the Goddess of Depravity that you deserve to be.”

Vaquel shuddered. The cock in her hand throbbed. She pulled the cock towards her sex and rubbed the tip against her pussy lips. Both cocks pulsed and Vaquel felt her orgasm surging through her body.

The giantess and the field vanished. Vaquel was back on the ship, riding the unconscious Champion. Pleasure rippled through her and she cried out.

There was a crack in the statue’s vagina. The Champion cried out. He sat up as both cocks erupted. Seed filled Vaquel’s sex and spilled over her hands.

The Champion’s jaw dropped open. Thick black musk sprayed from his mouth and coated Vaquel’s face. It was a powerful stream and nearly knocked Vaquel off his lap.

“Queen’s tit!” Vaquel sputtered. She wiped thick globs of musk from her face.

“Hold on,” the Champion said. He grabbed her by the waist and stood up. Vaquel rose with him, still impaled on his cock. She wrapped her legs around his hips and locked her ankles.

The ship hummed. Green power arced from the statue. Flashing lights warned of an immediate departure.

“Do something!” Vaquel yelled. “The ship is getting ready to go to wherever this thing is from!”

The Champion held up his glowing dial. With one hand, he turned the outer ring of the dial, manipulated three inner rings, and slid something in the middle. He did all of this while still thrusting into Vaquel’s seed-stuffed pussy.

White light flashed from the dial. Strange runes appeared, wavered, and vanished. There was a smell of ozone.

The green statue disintegrated. The secretions evaporated. The vibrations of the ship ceased.

“What did you do?” Vaquel asked.

“I subtracted it from the universe,” the Champion of Math said. He held onto Vaquel as his cock pulsed inside of her. “The entity tried to subvert my mind but I was able to shield myself with formulas. We were trapped in a stalemate, but I am afraid she would have eventually won. I owe you my life. Actually, everyone on this ship owes you their life.”

“Wait, the people on the ship are alive?” Vaquel asked. “They were statues and pretty fucked up.”

The Champion shrugged. Vaquel liked how his cock lifted her when he did that.

“I cancelled their experiences and restored their previous states,” the Champion said. “It is just math.”

Vaquel clenched tighter around the Champion’s cock. “You are going to have to show me more of this math you keep talking about. It sounds very useful.”

“Just wait until I show you the power of multiplication,” the Champion said.

Oct 052020

Scare Me is a different kind of horror anthology movie. The frame is straight forward. Two writers, on a best selling horror author and the other is an aspiring horror writer with ad writing experiences, are renting cabins next to one another. The power goes out and the two hang our to swap scary stories.

In other movies, these scary stories they tell would take place somewhere else with different actors playing out the story. This movie stays with the two characters telling stories in their cabin. It is entirely oral story-telling. The writers might act out what they are doing, but it stays an oral tradition. Other than some subtle special effects like a clawed hand, or convenient thunder, it feels much the same as if you were really in a cabin telling stories.

Now, that won’t be for everyone. My wife checked out at the first story but I was enraptured. It is an actor’s showcase mixed in with a lot of commentary about the work of writing. The best selling horror is a bit abrasive, but you can see why she is a successful writer with her comments. The aspiring writer is better at acting out the stories but he could learn a lot from the other writer.

I felt like anyone watching this could learn to be a better storyteller, and I would rank this movie among my favorite “how to write” books.

Scare Me is currently playing on Shudder.

Sep 302020

Available Job:

Temporary Placement to Counter Employee Shortage
Location: Sparkling Orbs, B-Deck.
Species Required: Human, Wuat, Banime, Hermafut, or Yazamite
Other Requirements: Sex Labor Guild Certification. Delta class breasts or greater. Level Two Bimbo Roleplay Certification.
Duration of Assignment: Four hours.
Payment: Three hundred credits plus tips. (Minus Sex Labor Guild Fees). Twenty Game Tokens. Five minutes in a sonic shower. Thirty credits per customer plus tips.

Click Here to Accept Assignment.

The Gillian mumbled into Dazanna’s breasts. She felt his forked tongue flicking against her skin. It wasn’t foreplay. There was a rhythm to his lips that she had felt before. The Gillian was praying.

“Oh baby,” Dazanna said with a giggle. She squirmed in place. If anyone had been watching, they would have thought Dazanna was near orgasming and delightfully surprised by the development.

But no one at the Sparkling Orbs was watching. The clientele was gambling. Beings fed credits into random number generators hoping for a rare combination. Holographic symbols flashed above tables as sentients placed bets. A group of solar technicians surrounded a table where a small metal disc slid along a near-frictionless table. It was a busy night.

Technically, someone was watching. It was the invisible but always present eyes of the casino’s security. But they were more likely to be watching the games and the clients, not Dazanna. She doubted that the security drones cared that her plentiful breasts were about to pop out of the tight golden corset that was her uniform. No drone was going to admire her long blue hair that was carefully styled to have that ‘just-been-fucked’ look. Most of all, no drone was appreciating the incredibly vacant look of sexual joy she was expressing on her face. Sometimes, she wondered why she put so much work into her craft.

The Gillian lifted his head from Dazanna’s tits. The black orbs that the alien had for eyes were hard to read. Chalky blue dust clung to its wide lips and flat nostrils.

“Good luck, baby!” Dazanna said. “Win a BIG ONE, just for me!”

The Gillian nodded and slipped a gaming token into her cleavage. Dazanna giggled like a madwoman as he pushed it down. A tiny gravity beam sucked the token down into her corset and into the cleverly concealed money belt that was part of her shimmering skirt.

“Thanks for the tip!” Dazanna purred.

The Gillian didn’t answer as it returned to the gaming tables.

Dazanna checked her cleavage. There was a bare spot where her skin was showing through the blue Ginmij dust. That wouldn’t do. Dazanna reached behind her and grabbed a soft brush. Still facing the casino and smiling like an eager slut ready for her first dock of the day, she brushed her exposed cleavage like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It still amazed Dazanna that gamblers believed that Ginmij dust brought them luck. Ginmijes were terrible beasts the size of station decks. The monsters roamed the blasted plains of a planet that killed its own population so long ago that nothing remained of their civilization. It took small armies to bring a Ginmij down, and even then, they can only subdue one long enough to cut off one of eight thousand spikes before the beast regenerated and tried to kill them. It was that spike which was ground down and transported across the galaxy as a probability-enhancer. Allegedly, rubbing one’s face into the dust greatly improves one’s relationship with the chaos of reality.

Dazanna snorted. She wasn’t sure what was so lucky about the spike dust. It didn’t help the Ginmij when it got hunted down by raiders. It sure as fuck wasn’t lucky for the hundreds of raiders who die each year trying to get the shit.

As for putting the dust on breasts, there was no stated explanation for that. Dazanna knew the reason. This was a Pleasure Station. Why not put it on tits?

A pink humanoid approached Dazanna. The eyes were shimmering. The pink face was a bit paler than the rest of the body. There was a sheen of sweat permeating the smooth white hair. It didn’t take a psychic or a trained Sex Labor Guild member to feel the despair radiating from them.

“Hey baby!” Dazanna squealed. “I would just LOVE to help you with your luck!”

The humanoid almost said something but shuddered instead. It clamped its mouth shut. With a shaking hand, it put a token into the crack of Dazanna’s cleavage. Barely before the token disappeared, the being smashed its face into her breasts.

The info block for this job suggested minimal contact. Dazanna made a personal decision on the spot. She put her hands around the humanoid’s head and hugged it tight to her breasts.

The humanoid sobbed. Tears flowed from its eyes. It wrapped its arms around her chest and held on. The tension in the being’s body slowly relaxed.

A red orb floated closer. It was an Enforcement Drone. The programming had detected possible harassment. Dazanna shook her head at it. The orb floated back.

“Sorry,” the humanoid said into her tits.

“It’s okay,” Dazanna said. She had gotten good at hearing people when their mouths were on her breasts. “Take all the luck you need.”

Sep 282020

Two years ago, I posted about All Systems Read, the first book in the Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells. Three novella and a full blown novel later, I am hear to tell you that Murderbot is still amazing. I finished the latest book last night and I am flush with Great-Writing afterglow.

For the uninitiated, Murderbot is an entity created to be a security guard. They are a mix of cloned organic parts, weaponry and machinery. It is property with no rights of its own. At some point, it hacked itself and was able to break the hardware that fries it if it acts out of line. It has been acting out ever since.

The series is mostly about Murderbot trying to stay alive in a universe that doesn’t consider it to be a person. What redeems Murderbot is that despite really hating interacting with humans, it has a protective fondness for weak humans it encounters. Over the course of the series, Murderbot makes friends, takes on clients and inches closer to having something resembling a life.

This is a great action series. If you like efficiency porn like Jason Bourne, you will love Murderbot. The threats are always terrible but Murderbot is always up to the task. Evil corporations, alien hostiles and other murderous cyborgs make for great enemies.

Speaking of cyborgs, there is a lot of non-human intelligences in this series. There is a giant computer mind that operates a transport ship. There are combat cyborgs that desire only destruction. There is a simplistic robot that creeps Murderbot out with its willingness to trust. This is a series that thinks a lot about how different minds think and it is fascinating to see these minds interact.

That is exemplified in the unique mind that is Murderbot. They are wonderfully anti-social and yet afraid of the fond feelings it has for the humans it trusts. They love media fiction and would happily watch soap operas for the rest of their lives. They will also straight up murder anyone that threatens the humans Murderbot takes care of. It is a lovely mix of fragility and righteous violence that is wonderfully human.

So yeah, give the Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells a try. It is one of the best modern science fiction series being written today.

Sep 252020

Lovecraft Country is a television series on HBO. It is the adaptation of the book of the same name. The plot concerns several African-Americans struggling with weird shit and the racism of the 50’s. The evil in this show is vile, disgusting and horrific, and that is just the racists.

I got to tell you, I am a bit burned out on H.P. Lovecraft. He had great ideas, but these ideas had their genesis in his racism and fear of outside cultures. As I get older, that root racism becomes more and more obvious. I am a big fan of how he created new mythologies and horrors, but I find most fiction written about his universe to be predictable and too familiar. In short, I think I am over him.

So I was pleasantly surprised when Lovecraft Country decides early on to explore some of Lovecraft’s themes without direct references to his fiction. This is Lovecraft Adjacent, or like the title says, in the same country as his fiction, but not a slavish recreation. In other words, the monsters, mythology and horrors are in a similar vein, but completely original.

And of course, the biggest change is having African-American heroes. Holy shit, i feel I have waited my whole live for African-American pulp heroes. Not only are they tough and sexy, but most of the heroes are outright nerds. It is their mastery of knowledge as well as their bravery that carries them through. Lovecraft would have died of fright at the notion.

In the world that this takes place, the heroes better be brave because America is racist as fuck. The first episode is about three African-Americans travelling the northeast of America encountering cruel hostility and outright attempts at murder. The sickening thing is how similar these period piece acts of racial aggression are not all that different from what you encounter today.

The big difference is that at five episodes in, the racists have suffered some pretty terrible fates. This is not a show about black people suffering. This is a show about black people TRIUMPHING and I am all here for that.

I highly recommend this show and when the season ends, I’ll be buying the book. The mythology is cool and the heroes are cooler. I can easily see these stories being the gateway for a generation of fans into the worlds of pulp.

Sep 232020

“I recognize that breastplate,” Lieutenant Lustbane said. “It belongs to Lady Griefbringer. She led one of the patrols that went missing in this area.”

“What is a noble woman’s breastplate doing on the outside wall of a tower?” Lady Virtueheart asked.

“Not covering her breasts,” quipped Initiate Darren.

Lady Virtueheart cut Initiate Darren a stern look. He had the wisdom to look embarrassed. She turned her attention back to the breastplate and examined it.

The red steel was covered in white stains. Pieces of steel had been removed from the cups of the breastplate that would have exposed the wearer’s nipples. There was an impression on the side that looked like a hand print. What could leave a dint in true steel?

There were words engraved on the wall. Lady Virtueheart sneered. Literacy was a burning offence on its own.

“Read it,” Lady Virtueheart commanded.

Initiate Fianne leaned close to the wall. The Rune-Bearer was eager to be of use. She whispered a mantra and the red runes on her bald head pulsed with magic. The Great Burner granted her the power to understand the profane writings.

“Lady Tezera Griefbringer, leader of armed men and a fantastic cocksucker.”

“How dare you!” Lt Lustbane growled. He swatted the back of Initiate Fianne’s head with the back of his mailed hand.

“I’m sorry!” Initiate Fianne said. “I swear, that is what is written there! I am only obeying the Lady’s orders!”

“Stay your hand,” Lady Virtueheart commanded the lieutenant. “Let her read the words free from punishment. Continue, Initiate.”

“Thank you, Milady,” Fianne said, rubbing the back of her head. She whispered her mantra and the runes flashed again.

“Plump of breast and narrow of hips, she has a fondness for anal fornication and verbal degradation. Lasted ten minutes in the purple room before screaming for my cock. Deep-throated an ogre. Favorite whore of the goblins.”

Initiate Fainne’s cheeks flushed. She backed away from the wall and the breastplate. The runes returned to normal. “That is all, Milady.”

“Read this one,” Lt. Lustbane commanded. He stood a few feet away, next to a large spiked club and more illicit words. The tip of the club had been recently broken recently.

Initiate Fianne walked over to him and read aloud.

“Katrick Lowborn, Confessor and adequate footstool. Long of tongue and steady of arms, he is a quick learner and fierce humper. A natural sadistic with a low pain tolerance. Says he hates fucking the ratwomen but is always hard for them.”

Lt. Lustbane vibrated with rage. “Confessor Katrick was a friend of my father’s. He helped me flog my first harlot.”

Lady Virtueheart turned and walked along the circumference of the wall. A few feet away hung a broken sword. Further down was the mailed skirt of a Tormentress. Past it was the torn pants of a soldier of the Great Burner. She counted thirty trophies before returning back to her party.

“Ready your weapons and say your prayers,” Lady Virtueheart announced. “I believe we have discovered a Lustmancer.”

Sep 212020

This has been a shit year. Between COVID and the President’s constant malice towards his own country, it has been a real downer of a year. I needed a distraction and that meant writing another porn book. The success of “Be the Supervillain” showed that smaller interactive porn books sell just as well as the giant epics, so I decided to try my hand at another similar size book.

Funny enough, I have a rule against tackling big projects during September through December. That is holiday time when every one has parties and my wife might decide out of the blue that we need to fly down to Florida NEXT WEEK. This is traditionaly a time when I have the least control over my time, so trying to write a big project is an exercise in frustration.

But hey, COVID made sure I don’t have to worry about any of that.

For my 7th interactive erotica book, I am writing about working at a sexy hotel. In 2020, it feels incredibly decadent to be writing about meeting new people, seeing a luxurious hotel and not live under the threat of wildfires. Technically I am writing about the real world, but it almost feels as outlandish as a space station.

Progress has been great. I have halfway done with the first draft, which is Incredible considering I have been working on it for 3-4 weeks. It is easy to write when you are having fun and I am working very hard to make this fun for myself. So far, so good.

Then Ruth Ginsberg died on Friday. As I said on twitter, “Jesus H fucking Christ on a stick.” What was already a death march towards the election has turned into a new tsunami of high anxiety. Republicans are about to ratfuck the country some more and there ain’t a damn thing we can do about it other than scream and protest, which has pretty much become the core activity of 2020 already.

Fuck, I am emotionally wrung out. I think the country is worn out. We are goddamned exhausted, but, we got to keep fighting. We got to protect our vote. We got to keep protesting. We have got to fight every day.

And yet at the same time, we need to take care of ourselves. Much like I felt when this Cheeto shit-stain of a President got elected, there must be joy along with the fight. So I am going to keep writing. I am going to keep updating. I am going to tell you about cool music, movies and books that I like. I am going to finish this book about a sexy hotel and when you read it, hopefully it will provide you a respite from the raging whirlwind of doom that seems to surround us.

Fight. Take care of yourselves. Hydrate. Sleep. Repeat.

 my life  Comments Off on Dispatch from the Valley of Foxes
Sep 092020

Queen and Country is a comic book series by Greg Rucka. It is thirty-two issues long, with three mini-series prequels and three novels. The series ran between 2001 and 2007 and I am kicking myself for only reading it this year. It may be my favorite spy series ever.

I have always enjoyed spy fiction but as I get older, my tastes change. I am less interested in James Bond’s missions as much as I am interested in what kind of a person Bond is. Bond is an efficient killer, but that makes him a deficient person. He engages in a lot of self-destructive behavior and although Fleming and the movies have flirted with these ideas, they never really explore them.

Queen and Country has three agents that it follows, but Agent Tara Chace steals the show. She is highly effective. She also drinks, smokes and fucks too much. The lady is a true badass, but it seems like a matter of time before she self-destructs.

My other interest in spy fiction are the people who organize the missions. In most stories, the mission is presented in whole cloth to the agent by a friendly briefer. In this series, we see the intel come in, get debated by analysts, get argued by bureaucrats, get maybe vetted by ally agencies, get approved/disapproved by the people in charge, only for the mission to get done under the table anyway, with or without government support and the agent only gets half the story. I could be wrong, but it felt like 75% of the series was this phase, and the actual mission took up only a quarter of the story. Kind of like in real life.

It means a lot of the stories are talking heads arguing with each other while drinking tea, but it is no less exciting. Operational concerns, rival agencies, global politics, local politics and sometimes just plain spite play large roles in every covert mission and I eat that kind of drama up.

I highly recommend this series. It scratches my John le Carre itch as well as my Bourne efficiency itch and throws in some agent self-destruction awareness to boot.