May 202020
 

Tagatha Fie, seventh child and youngest daughter of Baron Fie and seven hundred and ninetieth in line to the Skull Throne of Euphoria, prowled the hallway. Servants nervously asked if she needed anything. She dismissed three of them outright but sent two of them to her bedchambers for punishment later. The two servants hadn’t done anything wrong, but if Tagatha didn’t get what she wanted today, she planned to amuse herself with tormenting the innocent workers.

Baron Qagustus Fie strode down the hallway. His plump face frowned when he saw his daughter. He shook his head as he approached her.

“Out of the way, Tagatha, I have a meeting,” the Baron boomed.

Tagatha stepped in his way. “I know. That is why I waited here. My maid informed me that you cancelled my trip to the pleasure markets. I demand to know why.”

The Baron came to a stop before Tagatha. He nervously rubbed his belly. Not looking her in the eye, he stood up straighter and addressed the top of her curly brown hair.

“I have decided that it is past time for you to learn the family business,” Baron Fie said. “You are twenty-five and old enough to be responsible like your siblings. Starting tomorrow, you will begin training at the Sonic Munitions Fabricator on the coast. I want you to oversee operations there when you are adequately prepared.”

Cold dread gripped Tagatha’s heart. The horrid day had finally come. Her father expected her to work! She was destined to become a number crunching, efficiency obsessed manufacturer like the rest of her family. It was too detestable to even consider!

“Now out of my way,” Baron Fie said, still staring at the top of Tagatha’s head. “I have an important meeting with a select customer and-“

Baron Fie’s voice trailed off. A black dot appeared on his forehead. A wisp of smoke came from the dot. When the smoke cleared, Tagatha could see the far wall through the hole in her father’s head.

Tagatha opened her mouth to scream. A hand clamped over her mouth. Something hot and small pressed against the back of her dress. It felt like the barrel of a laser pistol recently fired.

“Stay calm,” a voice whispered in her ear.

Baron Qagustus Fie’s body collapsed to the ground. Tagatha felt the urge to scream again but she suppressed it.

“Make a sound, and you die. Understand?” the voice whispered.

Tagatha nodded her head. The strong hand released her mouth. The hot pistol barrel left her back. She looked down but saw nothing there.

There was a disturbance in the air. A hand and arm clad in black fabric suddenly appeared. The hand opened and a small holographic image appeared. It depicted a beautiful woman with long dark curly hair. She wore tight red leather across her perfect breasts. A cruel smile spread across her ruby lips.

Tagatha gasped. It was Queen Erishella. Or a recording of her. Either way, Tagatha found it harder to breathe.

“The bearer of this hologram acts on my authority,” the holographic Queen said. “Show them the same respect you would show me.”

The unknown person closed his hand. The hologram vanished. Tagatha’s heart tried to escape from the cage of her chest.

“Do you recognize the Queen’s authority?” the voice whispered.

Tagatha nodded. Her right arm shook.

“Your family has sold weapons to members of the Gem Moons Resistance, while also supplying arms to the Queen,” the voice said.

Tagatha said nothing. To deny it would be to deny the voice of the Queen. To acknowledge it would be to admit knowledge of treason.

“Your family’s guilt has been judged,” the voice continued. “The punishment for individual members has yet to be decided. Do you understand?

“Y-y-yes,” Tagatha said through stuttering lips. The fact that the Queen’s representative was talking to her instead of executing her was a good sign. It meant there was hope.

“Stand still,” the voice said. The hand in front of her clenched. A small energy blade emerged from the wrist. The field was red in color, matching the Queen’s lips.

The hand turned towards Tagatha. She almost screamed and stopped herself in time. The tip of the energy blade split the fabric of her dress. With a swift downward motion, the blade sliced opened the front of her dress from neck to waist.

The energy blade moved to Tagatha’s throat. It hovered close enough to make her skin tingle. The man’s other hand pulled at her dress. He tore the front of her dress until both of her breasts were exposed to the open air.

The man cupped a breast. His palm and fingers completely enclosed her small tit. Despite her terror, her nipple hardened in response.

“You are going to stay here,” the voice said. “Don’t move your feet for anything. While I am gone, I want you to pinch your nipples. Make sure they are sore and tender by the time I get back.”

The hand vanished. Tagatha listened for footsteps but heard nothing. Was she alone, or was the person still there?

Did it matter? Tagatha had her orders. She grabbed both of her nipples and pinched them. Twin flares of pain lanced her breasts.

“Queen have mercy,” Tagatha whispered. She looked down at the corpse of her father. Selling weapons to the Resistance? That idiot! Was he some sort of anti-royalist? Tagatha thought that was unlikely. He did it purely for the money.

Tagatha grinded her nipples between her fingers. She winced at the discomfort but she kept pinching. There was only one way to survive today and that was to do what the Queen’s assassin wanted.

There were footsteps coming down the hall. Tagatha turned her head, remembering not to move her feet. It was one of her mother’s servants.

“Milady, what are you doing?” the older woman asked. The woman openly looked at Tagatha’s exposed breasts. Like all Euphorians, Tagatha felt no shame in her body, though it irked her to let a servant enjoy the sight of her body without the proper amount of begging first.

“Go away!” Tagatha hissed. Was she allowed to speak? She wasn’t sure.

The servant saw Baron Fie lying on the ground. “Milady! Is that your father?” She ran towards the body and saw the open eyes. “Queen’s blood, he’s dead!”

“Go to the punishment chamber, right now!” Tagatha snapped.

The servant looked at Tagatha and her pinched nipples, and then down at the Baron. She wrung her hands. “Milady, I think you might be in shock.”

Tagatha snarled at the servant. Unconsciously, she relayed that aggression through her fingers and cruelly twisted her nipples. “I will kill you if you don’t leave RIGHT NOW!”

The servant squealed and ran down the corridor.

“Queen’s tit!” Tagatha swore. Her father was dead, the Queen had passed judgement on the family and the damn servants weren’t listening! This day was terrible.

Tagatha looked down at her breasts. Her nipples hurt but was it enough? She felt the rare urge to over-achieve. Gritting her teeth, she pulled nipples away from her body as hard she could.

Agony bit her nipples. Tears sprang to Tagatha’s eyes. She pulled on her nipples as hard as she could and then pulled a little more.

The left nipple popped free from her fingers. Tagatha quickly grabbed it and resumed pulling. The pain seemed to double.

There were more footsteps. Tagatha sighed and turned her head. It was her mother’s servant again, but this time she had a man with her, Captain Peq!

“Milady, what is happening?” the Captain boomed. The handsome man was the Captain of her family’s guard and served as the right-hand man to the Baron. Tagatha had tried to seduce him several times but he always rebuffed her. She had a suspicion that he was fucking her mother.

“Captain, you should go,” Tagatha said.

The Captain was about to speak when his chest suddenly exploded in a red spray. Blood landed a meter away from Tagatha’s feet. The Captain collapsed to the ground to reveal a hovering red energy blade behind him.

The servant screamed. The red blade swung around and bisected her head. The scream died.

Tagatha opened her mouth to scream but all that came out was a whimper. Clamping her mouth shut, she twisted her sore nipples. Tears shimmered in her eyes, either from the pain or the graphic violence.

A man appeared in the middle of the carnage. Black fabric covered his body from head to toe. A skintight black mask concealed his face.

“Congratulations, you are still here,” the man said. It was the assassin!

Tagatha nodded weakly. Had he been here the entire time? Or was he stalking the Captain and chose this moment to strike? Neither possibility offered any comfort.

“Let go of your nipples,” the man commanded.

Tagatha did as he said. The pain lessened but Tagatha felt little relief.

The man came closer and Tagatha studied him. The power blade still emerged from the back of his wrist. On his belt was a pistol, a rack of grenades and other weapons that Tagatha didn’t recognize. He was thin, almost too thin, though a prominent bulge was impossible to miss.

The man stood in front of her and brought his free hand to her breast. He lightly pressed down on the nipple. Tagatha winced in pain.

“Good, you can follow directions,” the man said. “Stand still.”

The man touched the tip of the power blade to Tagatha’s waist. The energy vaporized the fabric of her dress. He worked carefully down her legs, cutting the cloth open as he worked.

Tagatha shuddered and fought it as best she could. The power blade could cut her open with a touch. No matter how hard her heart beat, she refused to shake.

The man cut his way down her dress and then cut across to her other foot. As carefully as any tailor, he worked his way back up Tagatha’s other leg. He returned to his initial cut and completed the circuit.

The front of Tagatha’s dress fell to the ground. A window now exposed her underwear and legs down to her shoes. A flimsy swathe of lacy fabric covered her hairless sex.

“Keep your feet where they are and stroke yourself,” the man commanded. “I want those panties soaking wet by the time I come back. Also, keep your nipples in their tender state.”

Tagatha nodded. She put her hand between her legs and pressed down on the thin fabric. To her surprise, she was already wet.

The man took a step back and vanished again. There was no shimmer in the air or prismatic shift like you get with most invisibility fields. One moment he was there and the next, he was gone.

Was he still here? Maybe he lingered to see if Tagatha was obeying his orders. She had no way of knowing.

Tagatha rubbed her pussy through her underwear. The lace caught on her fingertips but she kept rubbing. She had chosen these panties because she had planned to go to the pleasure markets and the lace would have been a wonderful sensation as she slowly soaked them. Now she was soaking them not for her pleasure, but for the pleasure of the Queen’s assassin.

Who was he? Was he even a he? The skintight uniform he wore left little to the imagination but you could never be sure. The bulge between his legs suggested that whatever gender they were, they were packing something impressive.

There was a beep. It came from the dead Captain’s wrist communicator.

“Captain, come in! Jutus is dead! His throat has been slashed!”

Tagatha froze in mid-stroke. Jutus was her eldest brother. He was a cruel bastard and a ruthless businessman. She had always assumed he would murder father, but now he is dead for the sins of the family.

The communicator beeped again. Multiple voices tried to get the attention of the deceased Captain.

“Captain, the armory has been sealed! No one can get in!”

“Captain! The Baroness is dead! What should we do?”

“Captain, someone killed Zeo and Diero!”

“Captain, respond! Respond!”

Tagatha stroked herself in a frenzy. Her mother was dead. The old woman seemed immortal and untouchable and now she was gone. Zeo and Diero, her sister and brother and partners in so many terrible cruelties, were finally given the justice they had long deserved. The casualties were rising and the guards were useless. Tagatha’s only hope was to finger her pussy until her panties were dripping wet.

Her nipples! Tagatha had forgotten about them. Keeping one hand on her pussy, she used her other hand to grab a tit. The nipple was tender to the touch but Tagatha pinched it anyway. A whimper escaped her lips.

The communicator stopped beeping. Did the guards realize the Captain wouldn’t answer them? Or were the guards themselves no longer among the living?

Tagatha stroked harder. She rutted against her finger. The thin panties stuck to her damp lips. Shivers of fear and lust made her thighs tremble.

Where was the assassin now? Was he stalking one of her brothers? Perhaps he was disposing of more guards. Could he be here right now, watching her?

Another shudder ran through Tagatha. She hoped he was watching. Her life depended on proving her submission to him. He needed to see her rubbing her wet pussy. It was important for him to see how hard she was torturing her nipples.

Tagatha moaned. Desire flowed from her pussy. She was terrified, but also terribly aroused. Had she gone mad from the shock of her family’s execution? Or was she simply responding to the complete domination of the Queen’s representative?

Either way, Tagatha was approaching climax. Was she allowed to come? The assassin hadn’t forbidden it, but he hadn’t exactly commanded it either. Tagatha’s normal instinct was to look for a loophole to satisfy her selfish desires, but for once in her life, she erred on the side of obedience.

Tagatha pulled her fingers away from her sex. She brought her wet fingers to her other nipple and pinched. The pain should have muted the pleasure between her legs, but it only enhanced it instead.

Something pressed against her panties. Tagatha jumped but she stayed in place. She felt the bridge of a nose nuzzle against her drenched panties, followed by the contours of a lip.

The sensation stopped. The Queen’s Assassin suddenly appeared in front of her. There was a damp spot on the black mask where his nose and lips were.

“Squat down on your heels,” he commanded.

Tagatha obeyed. She lowered herself to the floor. The bulge was directly in front of her face. The assassin pressed something on his waist and a seam appeared along the ridge of the bulge. A thick pale cock sprung from the clothing, fully erect.

Tagatha’s lips opened in desire. She wanted that cock. It belonged to the man who was destroying her family but she didn’t care. She wanted to take it between her lips and show her adoration.

But she stayed where she was. Her life was at stake. Tagatha wouldn’t do a thing until commanded.

The assassin grabbed the back of her head and pulled. Tagatha opened her mouth wide and took the thick cock into her mouth. It hit the back of her throat and kept going. The assassin pinned her face to his crotch as his cock pulsed in her mouth.

The hand moved away from Tagatha’s head. “Suck,” he commanded.

Tagatha moaned and slid her head back. Her tongue traced the veins of his cock as she moved. She sucked hard enough to make her cheeks pucker.

When she reached the tip of his cock, she let her tongue lick once, twice, thrice and a fourth time before slowly sliding back down the hard length of his member. Centimeter by centimeter she took his phallus until her chin rested on his hairless balls. She opened her lips and struck her tongue under his back to flick his balls before resealing her lips around him. Then she moved back up and repeated the process.

On the fifth cycle of slow sucking, a loud explosion was heard from above. The walls shook. Tagatha nearly fell over but she kept her balance. She paused and looked up at the assassin.

“Someone finally made it to the panic bunker,” the assassin said. “I’ll figure out who it was when I analyze the debris field.”

The assassin’s cock pulsed in Tagatha’s mouth. Tagatha closed her eyes and continued to suck him.

“Enough,” the assassin said. He pulled out of her tight lips with a ‘POP’. “Bend forward and get on your knees. I want your face on the floor and your ass in the air. Keep your pussy wet for me.”

Tagatha nodded and the assassin tucked his cock back into his pants. He vanished a second later. Once more, she was alone. Maybe.

There was no time to think about that. Tagatha leaned forward and got on her hands and knees. She looked down at the ground. There was blood on the floor. It was probably from the Captain’s chest. Tagatha was tempted to pivot away from the blood.

No, she knew better. Tagatha turned her head and leaned forward. The blood was warm against her cheek. A chill ran up her spine. Unsure what to do with her hands, Tagatha kept them planted on the floor.

Blood rushed to Tagatha’s head. Her ass was in the air but the back of her dress covered it. Should she move it? The assassin hadn’t mentioned her dress. Would he reward her initiative or punish her for moving outside his commands?

Thinking of which, what was the assassin going to do with Tagatha? Her father had betrayed the Queen. Did Queen Erishella in her infallible wisdom consider the family guilty as well? Was it possible that the assassin was merely delaying Tagatha’s inevitable execution so that he could enjoy her body?

Another chill went down Tagatha’s sloping spine.

Wait, the assassin did say that punishment for individual members had yet to be decided. It was possible that death might not be Tagatha’s fate today. She could be punished in public as a lesson for others. She could be sentenced to a year of being a public whore for the unemployed and the less fortunate. Or worse, the assassin could decide to send her to a slave trainer so that she could begin a life of servitude.

Another idea sprung to life. Perhaps the assassin would take Tagatha with him. He would make her his personal bed-slave and commit so many delicious assaults on her body. She would have no family, no wealth and no choice as the cruel assassin fucked her wet pussy with his thick pale cock.

Tagatha moaned. She quickly reached back and grabbed the hem of her dress. It was awkward, but Tagatha managed to pull her dress up and over her ass while still keeping her cheek to the floor.

There was a beep. Someone was trying to contact the Captain.

“Captain? Anyone there? I can’t find an-ERRK!”

Tagatha realized she had forgotten about her pussy. She pressed her hand to her pussy. The panties were still damp. She moaned as she slid her fingers up and down. There was nothing to worry about. She was still dripping wet.

Time dragged on. Tagatha waited and stroked her pussy. When was he coming back?

A laser fired. It sounded close.

Tagatha kept stroking.

The Captain’s communicator beeped but no one spoke.

Tagatha stroked harder.

The lights flickered but stayed on.

Tagatha felt her orgasm starting to come so she stopped.

Something pounded on the floor. Tagatha realized it was the sound of her pulse.

“Good,” a voice said. “You learn quickly.”

Tagatha sobbed. It was the assassin!

Something sharp nicked Tagatha’s ass. She winced at the pain and felt her panties fall apart. Gloved hands grabbed her hips. Something thick and warm pressed against her pussy from behind.

A hard cock entered Tagatha. She moaned and kept her cheek to the floor. Her hands gripped the floor as the thick member filler her sex.

“Your family is dead,” the assassin said. “You are the last survivor.”

Tagatha answered with a moan.

The assassin fucked her. Long, precise thrusts entered her pussy. Gloved fingers dug into her hips with painful strength.

“Queen Erishella wants the production of her weapons to continue,” the assassin said. “You will see that this happens.”

Tagatha frowned. “I, uh, don’t know how to run the factories.”

The assassin stopped. His cock pulsed inside Tagatha. One of the gloved hands let go of her hip.

“Are you refusing your call to service?” the assassin asked.

“No, no, no!” Tagatha said. She pushed back against the assassin’s cock. “I am just admitting my weakness. I don’t want to disappoint the Queen!”

“Hmm, keep doing that,” he said.

Tagatha fucked the assassin. It was difficult from her position but she kept doing it. She humped the assassin’s cock with ass in the air and her face pressed to drying blood.

“I will inform the Queen of your concern and suggest she send you someone to train you,” the assassin said. “I will let her know of your eagerness to obey.”

“Yes,” Tagatha moaned.

“You may climax,” the assassin said.

Tagatha humped faster. The sparing of her life had given her a new surge of energy. She raced towards her orgasm.

“Glory to the Queen!” Tagatha cried as she came.

The assassin grabbed her hips and fucked her again. He locked her place as he pounded her sex. The fury of his thrusts made her frantic humping look lazy by comparison.

“Glory to the Queen!” the assassin cried. Hot seed filled Tagatha’s pussy. The assassin kept thrusting until he had released his entire payload inside her.

And then the assassin pulled out. Tagatha sighed as the thick cock left her. Seed fell from her tender sex.

Tagatha waited for a command. More seed dripped from her sex. Was he gone? Was it safe to stand up?

She stayed where she was. While she waited, her fingers returned to her sex. She was sensitive to the touch, but she gently stroked herself anyway.

“I’ll give him an hour to return,” Tagatha said. She wasn’t taking any chances.

Apr 202015
 

Visitors to Euphoria have many ways of travelling around the great planet. They can rent an automated skimmer, ride a well endowed equine beast or rent a personal jetpack. However the most comfortable and most famous way to get around the planet is to ride the Trans-Euphorian Mobile Express, better known as the Golden Snake.

Established by Queen Erishella, the Golden Snake is a luxury anti-gravity train with stops at every major city, pleasure resort, slave market and tourist attraction on the planet. Being an anti-gravity train, there is no track and the route of the train is easily changed. The Queen has made it quite clear that being a stop on the train is a privilege and frequently has the train skips stops that have displeased her or worse, bored her. Because of this, every stop does whatever they can to appeal to the Queen’s sophisticated and sadistic tastes.

No expense is spared for those who ride the Golden Snake. Passengers are treated to leather seats imported from the Jungle system of Phob while being attended by the exotic service slaves from conquered worlds. A world-mind level Artificial Intelligence has been reduced to the role of executive chef and can provide any meal in the known galaxy. The air itself on board the Golden Snake has been brought at great expense from distant gas giants.

The most famous luxury is without a doubt the personal Mouth Slave that is assigned to each seat. These slaves kneel before every seat and offer their mouths in any way that pleases the rider before them. Passengers are encouraged to use the wide array of stimuli buttons to reward the Mouth Slaves for good service or punish them for inadequate licking.

The high prices of the Golden Snake may discourage most interested tourists but Queen Erishella, in her infinite mercy, has provided a method of payment for those less wealthy. For every one hundred kilometers that a person serves as a Mouth Slave, they gain one kilometer in credit towards a purchase of a Golden snake ticket.

–Euphorian Gazetteer

Mar 232015
 

Attention Euphorians! After enjoying an eventful orgiastic night with the loyal men and women of the 51st Executioner Squad, Queen Erishella has declared a Moment of Reprieve for all enemies of the Queen!

This means all prisoners of the Queen shall enjoy a break from their deserved tortures and punishments.

This means all rogue states that have not rightfully submitted to the Queen shall enjoy a ceasefire from her righteous armies.

This means all traitorous democracy advocates will be allowed to speak without a justified beating.

This means all sex slaves of the state shall rest their weary and well used orifices.

Enjoy this Moment of Reprieve from Queen Erishella and do not mistake this act of mercy as weakness! The glorious Queen’s kindness is undoubtedly a complex and inscrutable action born from some terrible and mysterious cruel scheme.

The Moment of Reprieve shall end in one hour.

 Erishella  Comments Off on Moment of Reprieve
Nov 172014
 

Join Today!Queen Erishella needs more soldiers for her conquering armies! Visit strange new worlds and plunder them! Meet new alien races and fuck them! Protect your Queen from her enemies!

Serve Your Queen!

Enlistment Poster by Loyal Subject, Michael Powell

Jul 282014
 

Every year the planet Euphoria is host to SlaverCon, the galaxy’s largest pleasure slave convention. It was founded by a group of slavers who wanted to exchange information and kill their rivals but over the centuries it has grown into a massive multimedia economic event. Slavers still attend, as do slave owners, members of the secondary slave industry and millions of people who fantasize about owning or being a pleasure slave.

It is currently a two week event, held at Queen Erishella’s Summer Palace. There is a seller’s market in the West Wing where rare and collectible slaves are sold to discriminating slave owners. The East Wing hosts booths run by those in the Slave Training industry as well as Slave Clothiers, Slave Genetic Enhancement clinics and the ever popular Slave Punishment Equipment makers. The South Wing holds seminars and panels on the treatment, purchasing, abuse and care of pleasure slaves. The North Wing is where competitions are held like Best Mouth, the Annual Anal Parade and competitive filking.

A popular pastime is Coslaving, where people dress up as famous pleasure slaves or as pleasure slaves from popular worlds. This is a creative expression for a lot of people as it lets them create costumes and share in the glamour of being a pleasure slave without the years of training or thrill of being sold as eye candy to a eunch owner.

Sadly, every year the more convincing Coslavers are mistaken for actual slaves and are pressed into service as real pleasure slaves. To date, no Coslavers has ever been successful in regaining their freedom.

–Euphorian Gazetteer

Mar 242014
 

Visitors to the planet of Euphoria should be made aware that they will likely encounter merchants who claim to have in their possession an article of intimate clothing belonging to Queen Erishella. They will claim that this item possesses the power to heal libidos, seduce the uncaring and smells fantastic. They will offer this extraordinary item for the low price of a mere king’s ransom.

What they do not mention is that possession of the Queen’s underwear is against Euphorian law and can result in either a fine, years of sexual service or death.

After Queen Erishella discards an undergarment, the item is taken to one of her many shrines where it is put on public display. It is encased in laminatium where it can be admired by citizens and tourists for centuries to come. Shrines compete ferociously for the right to her latest undergarments, especially those worn during conquests made by the Queen.

Over the years, some undergarments acquire legendary statuses of their own. The Crotchless Panties of the Luc Temple, worn during the Queen’s Birthday Orgy is said to inspire erotic inspiration in any artist who sees them. The Shiny Blue Bra of the Paqt Temple is said to strike blind with envy those who are flat-chested. The Thong of the Mis Temple is said to cause irritation and discomfort in anyone who stands too long in its presence.

There are rumors that the underground undergarment market is supplied directly by the Queen’s government itself in order to profit from the high black market prices, but such speculation is of course treason.

–Euphorian Gazetteer

Mar 142014
 

Bow Before Your Queen!This massive piece of art of Queen Erishella was created by Becca. It is too huge for my scanner so you will have to settle for this picture taken by my camera. I apologize for the unclear picture but much like Queen Erishella herself, it is dangerous to gaze on her beauty directly.

I don’t do as many Erishella stories as I would like. Most of it is my fault. When you have an all powerful female character with a kingdom at her command, it is hard to find the conflict necessary for a story. Most of my stories focuses on another character with Erishella being the conflict in their lives. These characters run smack into the immovable sexual object that is the wicked Queen.

The stories I love focus on Erishella dealing with conflicts. The easy way to do this is to have stories where Erishella is somehow depowered or in a weaker position than usual and she overcomes it with her inherent awesomeness.  That is also the kind of story I despise when it happens to strong female characters. It is as if writers can’t relate to a strong woman so they have to make her a weak woman to make her interesting.

This is why my position on Erishella stories is to make her a fabulous powerful woman AND give her equally awesome opponents/lovers. My last story, War and Fornication was my ideal embodiment of that concept and I am very proud of it. I want to do more stories like that.

Lately I have found that difficult to do. It can be hard to create awesome characters worthy of a wicked clever queen. It can be difficult to create characters in opposition to evil and not make them more sympathetic.  This is why I don’t often write Erishella stories.

Which brings me to something I read once about the writers on the television show, Cheers. The writers were struggling with a scene and they decided to just skip it for now, write something else, and come back later. This is perfectly good advice for writing and I highly recommend it.  The head writer however had a different opinion. He said, “What are we, cowards?”. They went back to the scene and finished it.

I love this story because it is fabulously wrong headed and macho, yet it embraces the idea that no problem with writing can’t be overcome.

I think Erishella would approve.

Dec 022013
 

Attention all people and slaves of Euphoria! Queen Erishella was cruelly betrayed today by a cosmetic slave who was armed with a flawed mirror. The mirror had somehow been altered to reflect that the Queen had gained some weight around her hips. Scientists are currently studying the mirror to determine how the traitorous slave was able to sabotage the mirror while interrogators are busy making the slave confess her foul deed.

Realizing how insidious her enemies were, Queen Erishella came to the understanding of how lucky her people were to have such a resilient and shapely ruler. To help her people understand how fortunate they are, the Queen is declaring a Day of Thanks for Their Queen.

To celebrate Day of Thanks for Our Queen, the people of Euphoria are suggested to spend the day composing tributes, whether it is poems, paintings or performance strip dances.  These tributes shall be sent via trans-mail to the Royal Postal Office where Royal Assessors will determine whether you accurately conveyed your appropriate level of appreciation.  An elite cadre of Queen’s Whips shall visit you if you need help improving your tribute of thanks.

Queen Erishella would like to remind her subjects that lately she prefers tan lines, muscular backs and people who praise her perfect body. Please remember these details when you are thinking of how grateful you are to have a lovely protective Queen and you are not a prisoner working in a mine that has radioactive diamonds.

Sep 102013
 

First time visitors to the planet of Euphoria should be aware of a recent musical trend.  If you find yourself dancing at a club and you find yourself inexplicably aroused and attracted to the person in front of you that is the antithesis of your usual sexual tastes, you have not gone insane but you are experiencing the new musical phenomenon known as Dubgrunt.

Dubgrunt was made possible by a new musical instrument called the Sextair.  The Sextair is a stringed pipe instrument that creates notes that also send subliminal messages to the listener’s libido.  The music is quite beautiful by itself but the sudden arousal and altering of sexual preferences based on the notes, temp and rhythm has made the Sextair the most important musical instrument ever created.

This incredible invention was created by the sensation-scientists of Queen Erishella for the Queen’s Band.  In her infinite mercy towards those less sensual than her, Queen Erishella has allowed its use by the masses.  The Queen collects a royalty on every song created with a Sextair so music pirates should beware.  Pirating a song that uses a Sextair is a Treasonous Offense and is enforced by the Queen’s Torturer’s Guild.  Albums of music pirates being tortured by the Queen’s Torturer’s Guild are quite popular as well.

Currently, the artist known as Pylie Sin is top of the music charts.  Her debut song, “Cocks, Cocks, Cocks” was the quickest song to ever reach number one.  Her follow up song, “You Touch Yourself” went double Astatine in two weeks.  She is currently on a one year tour of the Queen’s Pleasure Palaces performing songs from her new album, “Oops, You Climaxed Again”.

–Euphorian Gazetteer

Aug 022013
 

In center of every city of Euphoria is a special platform. It sits between the Hall of Punishment and the Hall of Service, across from the Temple of Pleasure. The platform measures ten meters by ten meters and is elevated two meters off the ground. It has a small toilet and a table on which food is delivered every day.

On this platform is a naked person, guarded by a zealous Guardian Bot. Everyone is allowed to use the naked person as they wish with only two rules. One, they cannot remove the person from the platform and two, they may not permanently harm the naked person. Failure to adhere to any of these rules will result in summary execution from the Guardian Bot.

King Fong began the program during the harsh economic times of the Banker Worlds Collapse. During this time of uncertainty, some Euphorians were too poor to even afford prostitutes. Taking pity on his subjects, King Fong declared that every city would a Slut that would provide pleasure at no charge. This welfare program was very popular with the masses especially since the first Sluts of the City were former bankers.

Use of the Sluts are on a first come, first come basis. Any sexual act can be demanded and the Slut is compelled to perform. There are on call at all hours of the day and night. In especially lean times, some Sluts will work for weeks at a time without rest. Each Slut serves for a year before being replaced unless the local authorities feel the need to replace those Sluts who no longer are fit to serve the public good.

The practice of using former bankers as Sluts eventually gave way to the use of political prisoners. That practice was replaced with using military personnel accused of cowardice and that evolved into using people who pirated pornography.

Nowadays, the role of the Slut of the City is a voluntary one, as perverse citizens consider it an act of ultimate debauchery to sacrifice themselves to the whims of their fellow citizens. Sluts compete in annual auditions for the right to serve their city. These auditions have become great tourist draws and a chance for the populace to indulge in creative acts of debasement.

While visiting the cities of Euphoria, be sure to check in to see the local Slut to get a more intimate taste of the city.

–Euphorian Gazetteer