short break

Between surgery and an ensuing cold and a lot going on, I haven't been able to put a coherent thought together for a while. I'll be back to posting on here hopefully in the next couple of weeks. I need to figure out a better update schedule, as well; Fridays are not a good day for me.

Festival Festivities

Okay, so it's Saturday.

I was tired, man. I also still owe you the tear-down of my own horrible Krystal porn. It's coming. Don't be a hater, maaaannn.


We're actually catching up to more recent work, now. This isn't quite chronologically the next thing I wrote, but I already destroyed that with the Krystal nonsense, anyway.

I don't have a whole lot to say about this, except that the species is again borrowed from the lovely work of *morningstar located at http://gerbilfat.tumblr.com/. Specifically, this species:

And again, it spun off from an RP. I'm a master at perverting the cleanly, what can I say?

This is the first of probably many stories with this character set. I'm almost finished with the second one. Here's a snippet to whet your palette:

Nefil watched his older brother whisper, but the words were drowned out by song. Then he watched Nali punch his brother in the shoulder.

“Jonet!” she squeaked, indignant. “She’s sacred!” She followed the first punch with another, then another, but she couldn’t stop herself from grinning as she pummeled the older boy.

“Hey, hey, stop! I can’t help it! Stooop!”

After a final punch for good measure, she shook her head with a giggle. “You’re a dirty heathen. I don’t know why I invite you over.”

Jonet smirked. “Because you like it.”

With a shake of her head, Nali did her best to look angry. “Not at all. You’re terrible.” She leaned back until she was halfway lying on Nefil, putting as much distance as she could between herself and Jonet. “You drag your brother here and leave him all alone with some stranger, then you go saying inappropriate things about the deer spirit. You know what? I’m gonna be friends with Nefil, instead.” Her head dropped backwards, until she was leaning over the younger brother’s arm and looking him in the eyes. “How would you like that, Nefil? Want to be friends? I’m nice to my friends, you know.”

Nefil found himself caught between a giggle and a blush. Her voice was sending tingles through his belly and fingertips, which was definitely weird and definitely hadn’t ever happened before. How could words do that? He decided it must be the tea. He drooped his face over Nali’s and gave her a big grin. “Sure. You gave me tea. We can be friends.”

Nali smirked back. One of her hands trailed up Nefil’s neck, fingertips gracing his cheek and ear before coming to rest on the back of his head. And then in a single, sudden motion, she drew her lips toward his and pulled, forcing his face into hers.

Nefil’s eyes grew wide, then fell firmly closed, a soft gasp leaving his throat as Nali bit his lip. He pressed back, his lips groping blindly, a novice motion that would have embarrassed him without so much tea.

Nali made the most of his motions, nipping and sucking at his lips, drawing another gasp, then another. When she finally pulled away, she watched as his hands clenched slowly into fists, then slowly unfurled, fingertips digging into the dirt. His breath was heavy, his gaze lost, and she gave him a knowing smirk. “No, silly. I’m nice to my friends. Ask your brother. We used to be friends.”

Jonet chuckled and shook his head. Scooting closer to Nali, he reached over and ruffled his brother’s hair. “It’s true. She’s a sweetheart. ” He reached for the cup and emptied the last of the tea pot. After finishing his half, he handed the rest to Nali with a smirk. “You can be her new friend, Nefil, but I still get first dibs.”

Nali took the cup with a wicked grin.

A little long for a snippet, but context is important to this story.

As usual, stay away from this story if you're opposed to graphic sexual content and wallowing in hedonistic joy. But then if you are, why are you here?

(P.S.: All characters in this story are at least eighteen, because I wrote it, and I say so.)

The boat was drawing near to the island. Even in the distance, the young man could already detect the gentle waft of festival food in the air. Sweet or salty, fried or boiled, it was all wonderfully indulgent, the kinds of foods that elders warned the little ones not too eat too much of or they’d get a bellyache.

                Nefil’s arms ached, and he wondered how much longer he’d have to row before another of the young men on the boat would offer to take over. The water had been gracious, thankfully, and for much of the trip they’d had to put little effort into the journey at all. It was just his luck that the current had failed them when it was his turn.

                As if sensing his fatigue, his older brother gestured for the oar. Nefil handed it over without a word, nodding graciously as he slid back into the belly of the boat. The lively chatter that’d passed most of the journey so quickly had died down, replaced by a thick, tangible nervousness, each of the boys on the boat slipping into their own fantasy of how this night would go.

No story this week

I should probably have taken into consideration, when writing my last post, that I'd be recovering from (minor) surgery at my usual post time.

I'll be back with a real post Friday.

Oh, dear god. Star Fox porn. Post 1 of ???.

Alright, so...

I've been really sick. Impending surgery-type sick. Apologies for the late post. My girlfriend and I went to a friend's for the weekend so I could be sick over there instead and eat a bunch of food and watch bad anime.

With everything that's been going on, I totally forgot about my weekly update here. As an attempt to make up for that, this post is actually a five story special edition expedition into my absolutely fucking terrible high school pornography.

Seriously. This stuff is awful. It's about Krystal Fox, which, for the uninitiated, is one of the protagonists from more recent Star Fox video games. Her debut was in a Zelda-style Gamecube title, "Star Fox Adventures", and since I was a derpy teenage virgin I found myself, for some weird reason, compelled to write five stories about her getting busy with the series' titular hero Fox McCloud.

Yup. These guys:

Yeah, really. I'm totally serious. Yes, I'm very embarrassed by this, although not for the reasons you'd expect. I'm more embarrassed by the awful quality of the writing than the fact that I used to have a major stiffy for these characters.

I mean, let's be real here. There's some much, much weirder shit on the internet. And, because this is the internet, and I'll never meet any of you, I'm going to post these stories. I know from experience that there is a very real and active fanbase built around this stupid character and the need for other derpy teenage(?) virgins to beat off to stories and pictures of her. So, to all of you weirdos, here's an awful gift from my teenage self.

All of this being said, you may notice that the title for this post implies there will be more posts. Finding these stories gave me a terrible idea - one I'm going to give a pilot run to while I'm home sick.

I'm going to break down and analyze these awful stories, critiquing them to the best of my current ability. I'm going to rip teenage-me a new asshole.

Why? Fuck, I don't know. It'll be a good laugh.


Alright. With much hesitance, here you go. Enjoy, I guess?

If you do, please don't tell me about it.





1. Moving In

          It had been a couple of days since the events at Dinosaur Planet involving Fox and his team had ended. Krystal had agreed to join the team, and she was moving in to the Great Fox, taking what sparse furnishings she had to her new room and trying to figure out what to do with them. Fox was helping move things, and so far they’d moved a small mattress into the room, and a 2-foot tall drawer, and they were both leaning against the wall side-by-side, the mattress at a small incline to keep it from falling down. The room was already set up as a guest room, and had everything one would need to be comfortable, but Krystal was insistent upon keeping her few belongings, and Fox wasn’t about to argue with her. So they stood in her room, just inside the door, observing the room and discussing where to put her things. Fox was in a regular t-shirt and shorts, with no shoes, and Krystal was in another loincloth and top, similar to the one she wore on Dinosaur Planet.

Jumbo Blueberry Popsicle

It's probably obvious that I wasn't feeling the most inspired when I created a title for this story.

This is going to be the second of the two Rakheem/Reoti stories I'll be posting. Depending on how well they're received, there may be more later, but for now this is the extent of it.

I don't have a whole lot to say about this story except that it's one of the gentler pieces I've done, which is a little ironic given the cast and context.

I'm not finding anything that I feel serves as a particularly good snippet, but anyone following these stories already knows what they're in for with these two.


As a brief aside, I do want to make note of a 'feature' I've added to the blog. On the right-hand side you'll find an email address (puts.hair.on.your.chest@gmail.com) that you can direct any and all blog-related questions to, including questions about the characters themselves. Questions directed to the characters will be answered by the characters, with independent posts written in the first person perspective of whoever the question was asked to.

So if you find yourself wondering something about one of these stories, feel free to drop me a line.



And now, your scheduled programming:

            With the heavy crumple of soiled cloth, Reoti’s baggy, grease-stained top met her bedroom floor. Her jaw gaped shamelessly as a yawn bellowed past her full lips. Her neck, back, and shoulders rolled back in the practiced motion of someone made physically fit by means of cake, alcohol, and enough grueling hard work to make up for both. Twisting and pulling, she contorted in ways that her scaled companion, Rakheem, had tactfully declared bore some semblance to an insect dying in slow motion.

She counted three pops and just two snaps. She paused for a moment, frowning; this was unacceptable. Her head lolled to the side until her tension piqued in a loud crunch. With a satisfied grunt, she reached for the button on her once-khaki cargo pants. Tired fingers brushed against the material beneath, feeling the fine fabric of her classiest set of undergarments--black lace, hemmed to reveal just enough to be titillating while still managing to be frustratingly opaque.

Space Elves and... Reptiles?

And now for something completely different:

As with the perky cat lady breasts located two posts below, this lovely image is provided by sauce-master extraordinaire *morningstar at http://gerbilfat.tumblr.com/.

Because the image is focused on what matters most, allow me to add a morsel of context before moving on to the accompanying tale.

This pairing, like Ase and Shale below, comes out of a game I run occasionally with the artist. It's a sandbox game rooted in the notion that every now and then, it's good to play something mindless with no higher goal than to blow things up, craft ridiculous arguments, and throw a variety of hot sci-fi characters into each others' pants.

Rakheem--the male with the blue tool--is inspired very loosely by a bearded dragon, and colored like some fantastical lizard I found in a google image search while I was drunk.

Reoti--the blue tool recipient--is something of a cross between an elf and a succubus. In space. Because, well, we could.

As you can tell, he's much, much bigger than she is.

While the majority of the game revolves around explosions and crew-centric drama, I did, in my spare time, take the time to write two stories about these two doin' it, each with a completely different tone and meant, as a pair, to highlight the complicated relationship of two very different people with very different cultures living together in a very violent and hostile universe. 

The first story, and by far the longer one, is intentionally ridiculous and meant for laughs as much as erotic value. It's also by far the more graphic of the two, and therefore best suited for an introduction to the setting and characters.

If these stories prove popular, I may write more with them. 

Here's the snippet:

Reoti grinned, reveling in the klop-klop of her heavy, feminized military work boots, the tops of which ran halfway up her otherwise bare calves. A form-fitting green-and-brown miniskirt ran just low enough to obscure her groin, at least as long as she stood straight up. And just over that, she wore a matching military uniform—albeit entirely too tight in all the right places to be authentic. The top three buttons had been undone and her heavy breasts strained against the tailored fabric, revealing everything short of what he wanted most. She wasn’t wearing a bra.

Sitting up just a bit, Rakheem stared, dumbfounded. His curiosity over the origin and purpose of such a get-up was being outdone only by the all-too-familiar sensation of swelling. Of desire. Tilting his head the other way, he leaned forward a little, looking her up and down. “…What…?”

Leaning forward just far enough to present her ample cleavage, she eyed him up and down, appraisingly. “Feeling any better… sir?”

Rakheem’s mouth fell open, then shut, then open again as he caught a familiar scent. Well, two, really. Lubricant, both of the natural and warming varieties. Realization slowly sunk in. That swelling grew worse. Costume. This was a… costume. She put this on. For him. And now he was supposed to play along.

Spoiler: He plays along.

So, without further ado, I present to you: MRofEdLV. That stands for, 'Mindless Rutting of Elven dash Lizard Variety'. 

Enjoy, if you're into that kind of thing. 

            Rakheem awoke to a thump on the side of his head. Eyes still closed, the massive reptile groaned quietly. Another thump followed, right above his ear, then another on his jaw. As his partner’s tiny fist struck again, he wondered how long she’d been beating on him. He rolled to his back with a frustrated grunt, his special-order giganto-large mattress creaking under his weight.

He felt like death.

“Hey, dong-face!” Reoti snapped. Her nude form crawled up Rakheem’s hulking form, scaling him like a mountain of pillows. She leaned in close, her face inches from his, waiting.

A single blue-yellow eye opened, glaring up at the face of his elf-like companion. He imagined throwing her off the bed. Temptation struck.

Reoti’s pale lips twisted into a grin, basking in her victory over his slumber. “Hi there.”

Booth, Please

More catgirl porn, circa 2010. I don't have a whole lot to say about this except that it's at least as embarrassing to me as the last one. Not because it's catgirl porn, mind--I have nothing against either catgirls or porn, and if I was going to be embarrassed about writing either, I probably wouldn't have created this blog.

It's actually the characterization of the catgirl that makes me cringe. Ase is very, umm... well, think of catgirls in fanservice anime, and you're not that far off. You know, sparklepurr nya! nya! fare. Which is strange, because the universe she came out of was very uptight and serious and all of this, and in terms of behavior, the rest of her species would have found her a little bit eccentric.

It's all my fault, really. I didn't even come up with Ase. The artist form the previous post designed her, and then gave her a real personality. Then, I turned her into a sex-depraved little monster.

What can I say? Hormones, man.

Oh, right. A snippet.

Here:

Shale couldn’t help but smirk, just a bit. “Mmm. And you’re a good girl?”

Raising her head up high, she gave him a haughty nod. “I am.”

With a tilt of his head, Shale perked his brow. “Mm-hmm. Sure. How many boys did you catch eyeing you when we passed through the park?”

Ase’s ears went flat. She turned her nose up at Shale. “You say that as if I, of all people, would keep track.”

Taking the awful book from her hands again, Shale turned it over to glance over the back. ‘Earth is dying. Disease is everywhere. All hope is lost. But there is a cure—and it rests between Mary K. Smith’s thighs.’ How thrilling. “You do. How many?”

An indignant huff was her response. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The book returned to her lap, and the boy’s eyes trailed to the left and right, checking to see if anyone was looking. They weren’t. Scooting forward to obscure any possible view, he slipped a hand up her skirt. His fingers found her panties, and he pressed. Wet.

Ase inhaled sharply, but quietly. Her tail quivered at the base.

His hand withdrew just as quickly as it entered, fingertips rubbing together as he gave her a knowing smile. “How many?”

As usual, make sure you have all eighteen rings around your trunk before yanking your wood. Premature pollination is against the law.

            Strolling along the sidewalk at a weary gait, the short chocolate-brown feline sighed. With a tug to her broad-brimmed straw sunhat, she cast her yellow eyes up at her tall human friend. A small frown tugged at her lips. “Remind me again why we’re walking, Shale?”

            The tan-skinned boy gave her a tired smile, short brown hair twisting with the breeze. “Because they’ve been holding that book I ordered you for three days, Ase. And this library shelves orders on day four.”

            “Yeah, yeah I know that,” she acknowledged, waving a hand dismissively. “But I’m not fussing over going to the library. You know I love books. Just… car?”

            Shale sighed quietly. “My car is down to a quarter tank, dear. I have to get to work and back twice. My paycheck isn’t for four days.”  

Pulse

This story is actually older than the previous two, but I completely forgot about it and just now stumbled on it while trying to figure out what order to post my old junk in. It's based out of a short-lived RP that was abandoned in favor of one more engaging, set in a world that I stopped writing about because it was too complicated.

Not the best hook, I realize.

But here's what you need to know: it's got catgirls. This particular catgirl, Ase, has been lovingly rendered by the friend with whom the RP was played with, *morningstar.

Seven years ago. Christ damn, it's been a long time.

For more recent art by my dear friend, check out her blog here: http://gerbilfat.tumblr.com/

The story isn't quite as old as the drawing, and was actually finished at some point in '09, if memory serves. The file name suggests July of that year, but knowing myself, I made some minuscule edit and updated the file date as if this was some significant improvement. It's probably older than that.

Normally I would post a snippet of story, but I can't find anything I want to use as an introduction. Besides, you got cat tits. Don't get greedy. All you really need to know is: catgirl climb's on human boyfriend's cock. While he's sleeping. Yeah, I know. What a glutton.

Anyway, enjoy. Or don't. I mean, you know, whatever. It's probable that if you're here, though, you like porn, and this is... moderately decent, at least, for its age.

Pulse

            Ase awoke with a soft grunt, her eyes bolting open of their own accord. Her mind caught in a heavy fog, she scanned over her large room for a moment, golden eyes taking in her surroundings. Nothing of interest, though Shale’s heavy breathing soon caught her ears. Reality burst through the fog like a lighthouse on a dark night. A small frown tugged at her thin, feline lips, and her ears, brown as the rest of her, sagged in frustration.

            She was just getting to the good part of that dream, and now it was over. Worse, she couldn’t even remember what was happening. The general idea, sure, but the specifics had evaporated just as swiftly as the realm they occupied.

The Hush Sound

This story is from mid-2011. I wrote it a few months after the last one.

This story is about two friends, who are just friends, and one of them has a secret they know about the other. Here's a snippet:

    She sighed. She could feel the blood filling her cheeks. She knew already where this would go—where it had gone time and time again for almost two years.

            Since they came to college, really. Since before he met Lani.

            Kailan grimaced. Poor girl. Mind, she had no idea. All her accusations were based on her own broken, shit-colored glasses perspective. All the make-believe flaws she saw in Jared.

            But Jared hadn’t done anything. Jared didn’t even realize. This was a part of himself he didn’t know—couldn’t know, really. The creature that surfaced when the lights went out.

            Her hands trailed up to her chest, feeling his hand. So strong. Such a tight grip. Even if she tried to pry him off, he—

            His hips shifted again, a quiet whimper rising from his lips.

            Kailan bit her lip, taking a sharp breath. Her hands trailed down to her hips.

            There really was no point putting it off.

Vaguely inspired by a close friend's actual experiences, I have it on good authority that this kind of thing is possible.

Enjoy this, or don't. It's smutty smut smut. Don't read it if you're not at least eighteen, or whatever the legal age is in your country for admitting what you've been doing since you were twelve.

p.s., I'm aware of the formatting issues. I'm too lazy to fix it.

Kaeva

To kick off this blog, I'm going to post one old story per week until I've caught up and run out of material. Ideally, these stories should get better as they progress. Either that, or I've stagnated as a writer and I'm banging my head against a wall, however immaterial that wall may be.

This particular story is about a husband watching his wife do very unwifely things. Here's a snippet:

            A visible shiver shot down her spine, fingers finding the belt loops of his pants and twisting into them, gripping, just for something to hold.

            When she felt Mikhail’s hands grasping her bottom through her dress, she leaned into Alik, eyes squeezing shut. Her heart was pounding in the back of her neck, her skin burning.

            Mikhail was kissing the back of her neck. Eager hands were trailing the hem of her dress, lifting it slowly over her rump, revealing a single black garter around one thigh. Soft hands grasped her bare skin, thumbs playing with black lace panties.

Enjoy, or don't. This is porn. Don't read it if you're underage--or, if you do, don't tell your parents, and certainly don't blame me when your palms get hairy and you drop out of high school.