Patreon Preview: Captive of the Serpent Woman

 

In case you haven't been following my online activity, my Patreon is in the process of being revitalized, and in the process I've been doing monthly exclusive rewards, the first of which (the completed version) will be uploaded in just a few days. Given the subject that was voted on for the pic, I realized that I had an unfinished story in my backlog involving that same character, so I figured I'd illustrate a scene from that particular story and finish the thing itself for this special first monthly reward. Below is an excerpt from the story, but that's pretty much all I can give. If you want to see the finished product and the full story, please subscribe to my Patreon and keep an eye out for that in a few days' time!

Patreon upload: PATREON REWARD FOR JANUARY 2020 (Lineart)

Inuyasha: A Feudal Fairy Tale (c) Rumiko Takahashi

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Captive of the Serpent Woman (Preview)

by Skaea and an anonymous co-writer

It was supposed to have been a SIMPLE endeavor. Just get in, find the demon piece, and get out of there with Kagome none the wiser. But apparently, the half-demon’s foe had anticipated his arrival. And she was stronger than he had thought. And faster. And noticeably more cunning. He had in fact been overwhelmed so quickly that he hadn’t realized what was happening before he’d ended up being restrained and dragged back to what was presumably her lair.

Well, so much for a quick excursion.

And that was how Inuyasha now found himself in the grasp of a female demon, dark-haired woman above and red-scaled serpent below with four arms instead of two, who had wrapped him up and held his arms over his head, letting her have her way with his strong body and large bare feet. All while stuck in the depths of a cave in the middle of nowhere, destined to not be found by anyone until he somehow got out.

“Wha… what in the? Whaddya want?” he mumbled, trying to escape her coils, but swiftly realizing that he couldn’t. His mind was still reeling from his defeat some time earlier, but naturally, his first thought was making an exodus before things got messy.

The demon chuckled, one set of arms holding his wrists hostage while she carried him deeper into her lair. “Oh I just want to have some fun with the handsome demon who wandered into my home,” she cooed seductively to him. “Just relax… You’ll get nice and cozy soon.”

“Nice and cozy… Tch. Sounds like the kinda thing someone’ll say to lie to me about not wantin’ to kill me. You sure you’re gonna do that, or…?” he asked, looking uneasy and wondering where his sword went. It turned out that she had knocked his sword away into the shadows during the fight, but maybe she’ll collect it later once he was broken in. It’d no doubt be a nice decor item…

It wasn’t long before the serpent demon had carried him to a room with some surprisingly nice bondage devices. Less than a minute had passed before she brought him to a pair of padded shackles in the wall. She held his wrists still while she locked the padded cuffs around them, knowing the fight he’d been known to put up against demons such as her.

Inuyasha was chained now to the wall, arms over his head, while she had all four arms free to have her way with him.

In a Pinch (CBT, Sounding)

(Image source from the Monster Girl Encyclopedia Wikia: https://monstergirlencyclopedia.fandom.com/wiki/Cancer)

Happy belated New Year 2020! Starting off the new decade with a CBT story, what am I doing with my life? XD

Anyways, this story was co-written by me and someone who has requested to remain anonymous. This is the third time I've written a combination of beach burial and CBT in a single story, and the fourth involving CBT while the victim is trapped in something with only their head and privates sticking out. I'm starting to sense a pattern here, honestly. The anon's OC originally had healing powers and extremely oversized gonads, but I figured it'd be worth making him more mundane this time around, although monster girls are still a thing of course because the story wouldn't work otherwise.

Say hello to Bisque the Cancer/crab-girl, by the way! To picture her, just look at the above image, and then color her hair orange like that of Nami from One Piece. Bisque was one of the characters I roleplayed as on that CBT-focused Discord server I'm a member of, and I figured it'd be neat to have her be a major player in a story of her own, though the victim is the real star, really. I do hope to write and more misadventures with her - and Alec as well, hopefully - in the near future. :)

The Monster Girl Encyclopedia (c) Kenkou Cross

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In a Pinch

by Skaea and an anonymous co-writer

Contains: */M ballbusting and sounding with a brief instance of butt abuse. NSFW.

Word Count: 4,395

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Alec awoke from his seaside nap with a weird sensation pressing over most of his body. The beach hunk opened his hazel eyes, instantly taking in the sight of the clear blue sky and the sound of the crashing waves somewhere in the middle distance. He felt weirdly unable to move for some reason, but why?

The handsome young man turned his head this way and that, and looked around him as much as he could. There was that nude beach sign he’d passed when he’d arrived at the beach a few hours ago, there were the girls in bikinis laying on their stomachs getting tans (including more than a few with animal ears and tails), there was some blonde six-foot-tall guy stuck in the sand with his cock and balls peeking out, there were the college kids having fun playing in the water - wait, what!?

Oh, right. Said blonde guy was none other than Alec himself. Only now did he realize what had happened to him.

Uh-oh.

“Hello?!” He struggled in the sand, wondering in consternation as to who would be mean-spirited enough to bury him like this while he was napping. “Anybody? Little help here, dudes! Aw man, how could this happen?”

He had no idea how he got into this predicament - someone must’ve dared him to do it or perhaps he could’ve been pranked while sleeping - but it didn’t matter. He was stuck, and there was probably no way he was getting out anytime soon.

Quickie: Holiday Hilarity (TK)

Merry Christmas, everyone! I haven't had the time to write at all as of late, and probably won't be able to for the rest of the month, so here’s a blast from the past instead: a quick little something I wrote way back in my early days of taking writing commissions - it was a holiday story commission for RedVelvetEater on DeviantArt, featuring three of his OCs. I can assure you that they really enjoyed it, although it wasn't one of my best works and was a tad flawed, but such is the newbie writer, I guess. XD

Happy Holidays, and hopefully your New Year's 2020 is a good one as well! See you in January!

Jesse Cartier, Melody Cartier, Tessa Aiken (c) RedVelvetEater

Quickie: Consequences of Teasing (TK)

 

"Male Corrin" by omegazero01

How long has it been since I posted a thing here? Geez, I gotta rectify that post-haste and I don't have anything new written! Oh well, have some backlog stuff instead. XD

The second I saw the above picture, courtesy of the incredible omegazero01, I absolutely wanted to see the inevitable follow-up, and waited patiently until they opened up commissions to make good on that want. Being unable to spend my work money back then, I could only afford to pay for a lineart piece, but I managed to color the line-work they sent me well enough regardless - the result is under the cut. I also decided to color the hands of the 'lers in the same fashion as two of his Nohrian siblings, and from there I realized that I had a potential story in the making, so I gave into impulse and decided to write one then and there - also under the cut. I highly recommend checking out Omega's work - they're an amazing foot fetish artist, and their commission prices aren't too bad as such things go. I hope you enjoy this little fanfic as well in the meantime!

Oh Corrin, sweet prince, when will you ever learn that your actions have consequences? XD

Fire Emblem: Fates belongs to Nintendo.

Contains: MMFF/M foot tickling. SFW.

Word Count: 988

Ninja’s Soft Weakness 2: Electric Boogaloo (TK)

 Cover illustration by TwoMario

Finally, a sequel to this old thing! This story started off as an RP I did with superdes513 involving my ninja boy Raiju and his OC Hoshi a while back, done at about the same time as when I commissioned the above pic from the legendary TwoMario. That said, there wasn't any scene in the RP based on that pic, so after I bought that up with Des, we proceeded to co-write it over the past few nights, and I added it in just today. Along with a few quality control checks, I feel that this new addition was what made the story truly pop! :D

When I first posted the story in question, it was meant as a gift for Des' birthday, but in the interest of being on time I had to submit an incomplete version because, as I've said, we were still working on the scene we'd were gonna add at the time. It was a struggle between completeness and timing, but ultimately I came up with the above-mentioned plan of "post first, edit later", and the end result is worth it all the same anyway. I know I subscribe to the "better late than never" policy, but sometimes I just can't reschedule self-imposed deadlines, especially for close friends, so please excuse this being the plan for at least some of my works in the future. ^^;

Enjoy, guys! And go check out Des' gallery - he's got quite a lot of colorful characters in there!

Raiju Inarizushi, Feather Flusters (c) me
Hoshi Fujimoto (c) superdes513

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Ninja’s Soft Weakness 2: Electric Boogaloo

by Skaea

Contains: M/M and */M tickling. SFW.

Word Count: 5,189

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The brown-haired ninja ran down the forest path without a care in the world. His middle-length hair fluttered as the air whipped past it, the hair strand sticking out from the top of his head waving like a flag in the wind. His light brown eyes and fair skin nicely contrasted the pine-green and salmon-pink sleeveless top he was wearing, with a black neck cover and an armor plate strapped in a middle of the chest. He also wore yellow-green gloves with fishnets, and yellow-green dogi pants held by a yellow sash around his waist, and bronze-yellow foot bandage wraps over his otherwise bare feet, which made a rhythmic, gentle padding and pounding as he raced over the soft soil and leaf litter.

He had just gotten back from a surveillance run of the area around the town where he and his friends lived; there was, thankfully, nothing major to worry about. So it was off to the local noodle shop, his favorite spot in the town - he was determined not to miss the order of the day, and if nothing else, he needed to get there before the sun went down and the shop closed up until tomorrow. Luckily, he didn't see anything that would hinder him, or so it seemed...

"Well, this is going to be an awesome day," Hoshi thought aloud to himself. "Everything's fine, the town's safe, and my friends are definitely gonna be at the shop waiting for me. I gotta be there as fast as I can! There's absolutely nothing that can stop me!"

As if on cue, however, a blur of movement seemed to outpace him, just out of view. He barely slowed down, wondering what it was, until a flash of movement and a loud SHING caught his attention.

Perhaps those delicious kebabs would have to wait.

Graveyard Shift (TK)

Cover illustration by @PodFrog

I haven't posted a tickling piece in a while, but this was something I wanted to do after chatting it up with a good friend of mine on DeviantArt, PodFrog, and just in time for Spoopy Season! The second I was told of the concept for his latest Pie Factory character, Jack, I knew exactly what to do with him, and we co-wrote this via an RP on Discord as a result. I've been meaning to get back into /M anyway, and this was the perfect way to do it! As Jack is based on pumpkin pie, I also threw in some pumpkin-based plant monsters I made a long while ago as guest stars as you can see from the cover illustration I helped Pod produce. Not much else to say except that both of us had an absolute blast with this thing, so further co-writes between the two of us will definitely show up in the future.
 
Happy Halloween, everyone!

Jack O' Carver (c) PodFrog
Pumpkin monsters (c) me

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Graveyard Shift

by Skaea and Podfrog

Contains: */M tickling, concentrating on foot tickling. SFW.

Word Count: 2,718

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The graveyard stood as it always had, grim and mysterious and menacing. Headstones and tombstones covered the land, each with descriptions of those whose days had passed. Tall trees surrounded the area, leaves falling in the autumn breeze, twisting and branching such that at night, they seemed to resemble monster claws reaching up towards the silver, cloud-wreathed moon high above.

Perhaps it was because of these trees that rumors had spread in town about the true nature of the graveyard. Neighborhood children loved to share ghost stories about ghouls, zombies, and other terrors - the most common of which were about the pumpkin monsters. Next to the graveyard was a pumpkin patch, with vines that sometimes grew too long and reached up to the headstones. Legends spoke of these vines being possessed by ghosts, giving birth to pumpkin monsters.

While these stories kept most visitors away, they did bring about visitors who loved to hunt for ghosts or look for spooky sightings, especially around Halloween. One such regular visitor was Jack O'Carver. He was a tall young man, a good six-foot-four, with orange and green hair, a Jack o'lantern sweater vest, dark pants, argyle socks, and slip-on leather shoes for his large size sixteens. And besides being tall and having large feet, Jack's other defining physical trait was his glowing yellow eyes. Almost like lit coals...

Normally, he worked at The Pie Factory nearby, a local bakery that turned quite a profit during the holidays despite attracting certain... stranger visitors and employees. The twenty-six-year-old pyrokinetic was proud to be one of the latter, but his eyes sometimes intimidated the guests, despite him actually being a rather sweet fellow. As such, whenever he worked, he would wear shades that hid the glow of his eyes. The guests thought they were cool, and Jack thought so, too, but he could lose them sometimes.

Which was why he was here. Jack had been visiting the graveyard the other day to admire the place and to observe spooky activity. When he returned home he must have forgotten them. So now he was making a return trip with the intent of searching for his missing shades. He didn't have them in his house when he woke up that morning, so he returned to the graveyard to find them. 

In spite of appearances, the graveyard was, in fact, a residential area for some of the more supernatural residents of the region. But few people knew that because they simply didn't want to explore the place, especially not with all the rumors running around about the various creatures that lurked there.

But Jack's fascination with the afterlife and related phenomena was not going to be stopped by such rumors. And after all, he did need to get his shades back.

Marth’s Mesozoic Mauling (Hotbuns)

And here's the other one of these dumb things I did a while back! Both this and the previous one were related to my dream picks for Smash and what their movepools would be like; I may do more of these with other Smash Bros. Ultimate wish list choices of mine and other cute fighters already in the game itself.

Hope you enjoy! :)

Super Smash Bros. and all affiliated properties belong to Nintendo. Spyro the Dragon (who makes a minor appearance in the beginning) belongs to Insomniac Games. Primal Rage belongs to Atari Games.

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Marth's Mesozoic Mauling

by Skaea

Contains: M/M and */M hotbuns. SFW.

Word Count: 4,468

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It was not every day that Marth had to visit Dr. Mario’s office, but whenever he did, it was usually very bad news. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, but most of his fellow fighters considered him a sort of “sacred cow” - outside of combat, he was virtually untouchable. Nobody wanted to mess with a veteran such as him, even if compared to the likes of Mario, Kirby, or Pikachu, he would have to settle for second-best. Still, for the most part, he was alright with the respect he was given.

For some reason or another, though, most of the newcomers to the battlefield hadn’t gotten the memo.

The blue-haired prince exited the doctor’s office with a slight limp in his step, and just his luck that a (fully-clothed) blond Homs and a little purple dragon happened to be the first two people he saw.

“How was it?” asked Shulk.

“Could be better,” Marth replied in a slightly testy manner, rubbing the back of his hips with a disconcerted expression. “This is in no ill will to your friend, but… Perhaps his fighting style could use a little more, um, tact?”

Spyro grimaced, a guilty look on his face. The reason Marth had visited the doctor’s office was that he had taken on the purple dragon a mere half-hour earlier. It hadn’t gone well for Marth, suffice it to say. Spyro fully expected to be scolded for his behavior, and even though the prince was handling it with surprising dignity for someone who’d had his buttocks impaled by a pair of razor-sharp dragon horns several times over the course of five minutes – and that wasn’t getting into the Dragon Breath, mind – his words still stung a little.

“Guess I’m just so used to the dragon way of fighting that I can’t help but break out my style every match,” said Spyro. “So what are you gonna tell me, that I’ve got bad manners for a fighter?”

“I… I’m not sure what to say, in fact,” replied Marth. “I suppose it could be worse. The boss of my Classic Mode route isn’t Master Hand anymore, suffice it to say, but now I can’t even look at anything draconic without suffering horrible flashbacks. No offense, of course.”

It was Shulk who responded to that one. “If you have to go after someone for having your buns toasted by a Rathalos, couldn’t you talk it up with Master Hand himself? He’s the one who arranges our encounters, and–”

“It’s alright. It’s not like I can do much about it. But whatever may come, I WILL prove my strength as the prince of Altea, at any cost.”

Spyro smiled in admiration, but then his face fell. “Look, I’m sorry for messing you up like that. I guess you’re right, I really should be more careful–”

He was interrupted when Marth responded, a rueful smile on his face. “It’s alright. I understand. I have the same complaint about other draconic fighters I’ve had to deal with – Bowser, Charizard, and now Ridley – and it’s at least nice to know that you’re willing to improve.”

“Uh… thank you?”

“So, are you up against anyone else today?” asked Shulk, patting Spyro’s head in reassurance. “Hopefully you won’t end up having to spend more time at Dr. Mario’s…”

“Well, I do have one more fight for the day,” replied Marth. “It’s supposedly against one of the trial newcomers, someone from Atari I believe. His name’s Talon. They haven’t explained more, though, so I’ll have to be on my guard in any case.”

“Oh. Well, good luck regardless. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Marth smiled a little. “I’ll do my best. Whoever wins, this will definitely be a match to remember!”

The other two stepped aside to let Marth pass them, and watched him go, waving politely. Once he was out of earshot, they glanced at each other.

“So, uh… You’re still not mad at me for our first match, right?” asked Spyro. “I don’t know if Marth was, but…”

The blond shrugged, though he would swear his bottom had started tingling. “No hard feelings. Marth’s right, it’s no worse than what the resident fighters put me and everyone else through on a regular basis. Guess I should’ve known that before signing up,” he added with a laugh.

Spyro chuckled as well, and then quickly decided to change the subject. “So… Who’s butt is Marth gonna be kicking, anyhow?”

“I dunno. He said something about Atari. But I can think of only a few games from there that’d fit.”

“Don’t you have Pong as an assist trophy?”

“Color TV-Game 15 is a clone of that game.”

“Who could it be… Asteroids? Centipede? Tetris? That one alien from that one game that contributed to the Crash of ‘83?”

Shulk scratched his chin in his typical fashion. “Nah, too stupid. Actually, I think Marth mentioned his name. Talon. There was a minor Zelda-verse character with that name, but I don’t think they’ve considered him viable. Plus, he’s not from an Atari game. In fact, there’s only one character fitting both criteria that I know of–”

They were silent for a few moments as the horrified realization sunk in.

“Hug me,” said Spyro, his pupils now pinpricks as he clung to his buddy’s leg.

Shulk was all too happy to oblige.

Shulk Sustains A Scorching (Hotbuns)

Haven't posted in a while, but I figured I'd let you guys know that I still live - I've been super busy with moving to a new apartment out of state! To tide you over until I can produce my next story, here's a dumb little thing I wrote earlier this year. Not my best work, especially with the OOC moments in several cases, but I had fun with it regardless.

Another one of these will be up soon as well!

Super Smash Bros. and all affiliated properties belong to Nintendo. Spyro the Dragon belongs to Insomniac Games.

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Shulk Sustains a Scorching

by Skaea

Contains: M/M and */M Hotbuns. SFW.

Word Count: 3,585

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The blond youth could not believe what he was seeing. He’d been told that the latest DLC fighter to have been invited to the Smash Bros. universe was quite a handful, a fearsome warrior who had saved his people many times before, with a personality as big as his reputation. He had expected someone tall, noble, proud, and handsome, someone like Marth, or – Bionis help him – Link. Above all else, he’d expected a worthy opponent that could give him a fair fight.

He had certainly not expected a purple dragon around the size of a Nopon.

At first, he had been confused and annoyed, and then outright dismayed – though not towards this newcomer in particular. Even in the wake of multiple traumatic events in his home world that shall not be discussed here for want of avoiding spoilers, Shulk was not the kind of person to hold a grudge for long. Most of all, he had high expectations of everyone he knew, and so far he hadn’t been disappointed that the fighters whom he had gotten to know over the years had fulfilled them. But this little dragon? He had no weapons, nothing in the way of combat experience the way he’d known, and not even clothing or armor of any sort. By all accounts, this match should be nothing but a formality.

But then again, they’d said the same about a certain dog and duck duo…

Deal with the Devil (TK, CBT, Sounding)

This story was based on an RP I did with someone on Discord who wishes to remain anonymous. Not much else to say other than that we both had way more fun with it than we thought we would. Hope you enjoy, and more stories to come here soon! :)

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Deal with the Devil

by Skaea

Contains: M/M and */M tickling, concentrating on foot tickling; */M ballbusting; M/M urethral play. NSFW with sexual elements, but no permanent trauma.

Word Count: 3,808

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The demon spawned out of your magical circle exactly as planned: his handsome head, his magnificent size 16 feet, and his sizable privates being the only things visible, as though growing from the floor. This was his first time he had been summoned by a person into the mortal realm, and now he was well and truly stuck. Exactly as planned.

You smiled as you looked down at the crimson-skinned figure, or rather the bits of him sticking out of the circle. “Hello, Amon~” you cooed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“W-What?” Amon tried to pick himself up, but he felt himself be paralyzed… except for his head, feet, cock, and balls. He shook his head about a little, his black mohawk quivering, his coiling, addax-like horns waving about, but to no avail.

Satisfied with the setup, you smiled and sat in front of his massive feet. “How are you, Amon? Are you willing to help a pal out right about now…?”

“W-What is the meaning of this?!” Amon tried to make himself sound more sophisticated than he actually was. And yet, his toes instinctively curled when you sat in front of them.

Undeterred by the failed attempt at intimidation, you reached out and then let your fingertips rest on his arches. “Oh, you’d like for you to be a toy of mine for tonight~ Nothing too serious, just a little fun!”

Max Gluteus and the Eye of the White Tiger (Hotbuns)

And here it is, the other completed Max Gluteus story I've written! This one was done with the help of a friend of mine who heard about Max and LOVED the concept and execution, so when I asked for their help they were glad to contribute! This is the story so far featuring the poor guy that I'm most proud of. :)

As previously noted, the third Max Gluteus tale is almost complete, but I've struggling so much with the climax and conclusion that I can't really release it yet. Once it's complete, though, you readers will be the first to know. In the meantime, please enjoy this little tale and laugh at Max's (and Nile's) suffering! I hope I delivered well enough. :D

Part 1 on DeviantArt

Part 2 on DeviantArt
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Max Gluteus and the Eye of the White Tiger

by Skaea and an anonymous co-writer
 
Contains: */M and some */F Hotbuns. Mildly NSFW.

Word Count: 13,861
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The work of an archaeologist is never done. That I can say for certain. You can never get any rest on the job, be it due to a new assignment in some foreign country, a new artifact in need of cataloguing… or in my case, a flea-infested seat cushion.

A month or so after my first adventure in Central America, I was given a lead by my supervisor regarding a monastic temple in the mountains of northern Tibet, on the border of south China. A mysterious object known as the Eye of the White Tiger, an object of unknown and no doubt plot-relevant mystical power, had recently been discovered, but for some reason, the people who had found it had fled in terror from whatever was in there before they could investigate its nature in full. It was decided quite quickly that I was the one for the job, given my success at my previous endeavor — though it was to the surprise of the department that Tlacotl decided to come.

Of course, one thing led to another, and we’d soon found ourselves in a dingy rickshaw winding its way up some third-world town, its destination being the village at the foothills of the Himalayas.

“Is everything okay, Max?” asked Tlacotl, curling her arms close to her body; she was not used to cold climates, so she had insisted on dressing in as many mountaineer jackets as she could, along with several pairs of khakis and fur-lined hiking boots. “You look… uneasy.”

“It’s nothing — ow! — Just these — ouch! — fleas in the seat cushion — owie! — They’re biting my bottom almost constantly — aaagh! — and making it difficult — yeeoww! — to concentrate…”

She shook her head in mild distaste. “Seems like your curse is just as busy as you. Not to mention extremely possessive.”

I snorted at that remark, pulling my own dark brown parka a little tighter around me. We had tried to keep up a romantic relationship as much as we could since we’d met back in the Mesoamerican jungle, but it was not to be, because of course. The curse always maimed my ass every single time we tried to even kiss. Tlacotl had been devastated when I finally told her that we had to break up, but we’d eventually conceded that in hindsight, we should’ve seen that coming a long way away, and at least our friendship remained unbroken in spite of everything.

“Well, it’s — yowch! — not my fault that every time we — aiiieee! — tried to seriously commit — gaah! — the curse made sure that I — oowwch! — could never get even a moment’s happiness — aack! — without getting my poor bottom getting hurt to compensate!”

The tribal woman nodded sagely. “It’d make sense that it wouldn’t work out. Your curse was, after all, brought about by you getting horny with someone when neither she nor her relations wanted it.”

“I still think — aaah! — it’s a little — owiieee! — excessive…”

“I could almost agree with that, but then again, you do put your priorities over those of others sometimes, too. Not exactly ideal for relationship building, isn’t it?”

“Fair point. Aaargh! Damn fleas! My ass is gonna itch for days…”

“Count yourself lucky. Ah, here we are!”

We disembarked from the rickshaw at our designated stop, with me exiting a lot faster than normal. I instantly started scratching my bottom with extreme fervor, earning a look of pity from my companion in spite of herself.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you some anti-itch cream as soon as we get to the village,” said Tlacotl, deciding to follow my lead to the place in question. “So… I take it you’re aware that the Monastery of the White Tiger is square in the middle of tiger country? Which is a rhetorical question, by the by.”

“T-Tigers?” I shivered uncomfortably.

“You know… Panthera tigris? Largest member of the cat family? Basically like a jaguar, but bigger, stripier, and meaner—”

“I know what a tiger is, dammit! It’s just… After that one time with that jaguar…”

“Oh, right. You’re probably gonna get mauled, huh?”

“Took the words right outta my mouth, there. So, would it be too much to ask to help me out in case of, well… you know?”

“Why do you think I decided to come? You need help, regardless of the status of our no-longer-existent relationship. I can’t imagine striking it out on your own without getting yourself killed.”

I scoffed at that last bit. “Tch, I should be so lucky.”

Max Gluteus and the Hummingbird Headdress (Hotbuns)

I'm still alive! Just been busy with Real Life shenanigans, that's all. I've therefore decided I'd pad this blog out with some backlog stuff to keep things from gathering dust around here. Anyhow, this is the first of a series of butt abuse stories I am currently working on involving a recurring character of mine, a very unlucky Indiana Jones-style explorer who may or may not be based on myself because I get such a kick out of self-deprecation lol. Max is actually the persona I use for my DeviantArt account catering to CBT and butt pain, and he's a character I've had vaguely conceived in my head for YEARS, so I figured it'd be worth writing about him proper after all this time. Hence, this! :P

I won't go into the full details about the whole thing, but it is divided into two parts on DeviantArt, and you can find specific notes about each section in their respective posts. I have another story up as well and a third still being worked upon (well, once I get a MASSIVE case of writer's block out of the way first lol), and as soon as those are uploaded I will cross-post them here as well. For now, though, enjoy, y'all!

Part 1 on DeviantArt

Part 2 on DeviantArt
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Max Gluteus and the Hummingbird Headdress

by Skaea
 
Contains: */M and some */F Hotbuns. Mildly NSFW.

Word Count: 15,996
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This was, without a doubt, the worst day of my life.

At just twenty-five years of age, I’d been the talk of the town for almost half a decade now — short, curly dark hair, equally dark eyes, flawless beige skin, and perfectly toned, athletic body, the works. By all rights, I should’ve been one of the brightest and most brilliant archaeologists the world had ever seen.

As it turned out, I was indeed one of the brightest and most brilliant archaeologists the world had ever seen… and also one of the most unlucky.

It’s not every day that you end up deep in the heart of the Amazon jungle, tangled up in several thin, ivy-like lianas, eight feet off the ground. The vines had tied my knees against my sides and my arms over my head, and my accursed assets exposed below me — my pants and underwear had even been loosened and pulled down, so that my lower cheeks were fully exposed, and spread so widely that I could almost feel the tropical steam against my hole.

What was far more concerning, though, was that I was dangling just a foot above a very sharp spear, held by a beautiful tribal girl with skin the color of milk chocolate, long black hair that went down to her lower back, a mischievous expression upon her painted face, a cluster of macaw feathers in her hair, and a loincloth and bra that looked like they could easily have been made from a single peccary tail.

“Fancy to see you around here, white man,” she said cheerily. “So, what made you decide to do your business onto our land?”

“It’s not what it looks like, trust me,” I grumbled. “And technically, I’m Asian. Now, do me a favor and get me down? That spear looks like it’s getting closer by the second.”

“Closer, huh?” She chuckled with trollish intent, and then thrust it sharply upwards.

“YEEOWWWW!!!” I howled in pain, having felt the needle-pointed flint spearhead jabbing into the tender flesh of my taint. “N-NOT THAT CLOSE!!”

“Serves you right for intruding upon our sacred grounds.” She laughed with scorn. “You’re with him, are you?!”

“W-wait, who?! GYAAAAAAAAHHH!!!”

She’d jabbed me a second time, this time nailing my helpless left buttock. “That evil white man who wants to steal the sacred relic we call the Hummingbird Headdress!”

“Ah, I see you’ve met my nemesis, Agent Nile. Well, I’m here to get the Crown back, so if you could put your spear away and get me down, I’ll be happy to help you, miss… uh…”

“It’s Tlacotl. And no, I won’t.”

I recognized that name as meaning “long slender stick” in the Nahuatl tribe language. I wisely decided not to ask about what kind of stick her name referred to, though, and simply replied, “Won’t what?”

“Put my spear away.”

“Why?”

“The vines are loosening.”

I started, looking up in a panic, and realized that she was right. The vines were now loosening thanks to my struggles, and while that would normally be a good thing, the fact that she was now planting the butt of her spear into the soil directly under me made it very much not so.

“N-no, please! You’ve already—” I protested, but she cut me off.

“I’ll have to take you to the tribe chieftain, because I’m sure he’ll have questions about why you came so soon after this ‘Dr. Nile’. And since it seems like you’ll fight back once you get loose…”

The vines slipped, dropping me two inches. I whimpered in terror, realizing what was coming.

Then they slipped again.

And again.

And finally, after only enough time for me to cry “Oh, f—!”, the vines finally released me… dropping me six inches onto a very sharp flint-tipped spear that sank deep into the intimate flesh between my buttocks, a mere inch from my tightened hole.

There was one brief pause, where my eyes widened until they were as round as gumballs. And then…

“YIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOWWWWWWCCCHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!”

My scream of total agony sent birds scattering into the air for miles around.

Prince Sterling and Captain Sarissa in: Woodland Woes

It's been a while since I've posted here, and I've been busy with Real Life and such, but just to show that I haven't abandoned this blog, I've decided to post a story I uploaded on dA a while back. This is another combination of butt abuse and fantasy/fairy tale settings, but a little less plot-driven than that epic tale I posted last winter; still, I've wanted to write several of the scenarios featured as well as with a story involving the lovely albeit luckless character of Prince Sterling, so here it is anyway!

Sterling, his kingdom of Altaira (spelling slightly changed to avoid confusion with Altaria, the Pokemon), and the rest of the characters featured are the creations of my author's anonymous co-writer, who has graciously helped me get this story completed. The first story with Sterling was written by FraggsterFly, who was gracious enough to route us to our co-writer in the first place! Both parts can be accessed here:

• Misadventure of Prince Sterling Pt 1
• Prince Sterling's Misadventure Pt2

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Prince Sterling and Captain Sarissa in:

"Woodland Woes"

by Skaea and an anonymous co-writer
 
Contains: */M and */F hotbuns with some ballbusting. NSFW.
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It was a quiet day in the kingdom of Altaira. The castle town was bustling, the market was alive with shoppers, and overall there was nothing particularly interesting going on in Castle Town. In the lavish palace at the center of the kingdom, as per usual at this hour, all was peaceful. The servants were preparing lunch for the royals while others were cleaning. And the royal residents… well, they were supposed to be down in the dining room for lunch, but as usual they were late.

Princess Annabelle, a five-foot six-inch tall and slender twenty year old girl with blonde hair and bright blue eyes, was a typical spoiled princess. She preferred to be waited on hand and foot, as she was bossy and only cared about herself and her happiness. The servants were happy to serve her, however, especially the males. They always enjoyed going to Annabelle’s room, just to see their beautiful princess. They especially enjoyed the princess’s rather large assets. Annabelle loved the attention that everyone was constantly giving her.

Twenty-four year old Prince Sterling, on the other hand, was quite gentle and kind. He always put everyone before himself, even if that meant that he was going to be hurt. Sterling was also tall, about five-foot-eleven, and slender but he also had a well-toned body with short, silver hair and bright blue eyes. His face was a handsome one that all of the girls would fall in love with. Sterling was the Crown Prince of this kingdom, though most people wondered if he was up for the task. Sterling was quite clumsy and made a lot of mistakes, though he always meant well. The townspeople and the palace staff were sometimes afraid to be around him due to his clumsiness. Some thought that their prince had been cursed by an evil sorcerer when he was a young child. Sterling, though extremely clumsy, was also extremely brave, though he was not that strong, even though he tried to pass himself off as a strong man and usually ended up humiliating himself instead.

The day was mostly peaceful, except for the screaming coming from a room in the palace. It was late morning, and Annabelle was in the throne room with her brother. They were currently having an argument about whether unicorns were real or not… which was quite ridiculous if one were to ponder it, since Sterling had, a while back, encountered a real, live dragon, which was supposedly just as mythical.

“I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again: I want a unicorn and I want one NOW!” Annabelle could be heard yelling. The wooden floor shook from how hard she was stomping her feet.

“Unicorns aren’t real, Annabelle.” Sterling replied, exasperated. “Not the kind you had in mind, anyway. I have been in those woods a million times and not once have I ever seen such a unicorn. Therefore, they are not real.”

“They are! They are real, you idiot! I’ve seen one! I want it captured so that I can have it as my royal steed!” Annabelle screamed and jumped up and down. “GET ME THAT UNICORN! GET IT! GET IT! GET IT!”

Sterling sighed and facepalmed. “If I send some troops out to find this ‘unicorn’, will you stop whining and throwing a temper tantrum about this?”

Annabelle’s eyes lit up. “Only if you come back with it! You have to go get it! Only you!”

Sterling groaned. “Fine! I’ll go after that stupid so-called unicorn. That way I can prove to you that unicorns don’t exist. Not here in Altaira, anyway.”

“THEY DO EXIST HERE IN ALTAIRA! THEY DO! THEY DO! THEY DO!” Annabelle yelled and jumped up and down, throwing yet another fit.

Sterling pinched the bridge of his nose and moaned in frustration. It was no secret that Annabelle was obsessed with unicorns, such wondrous and beautiful things. She was so adamant about wanting to keep one to ride on every day that she bought it up in almost every conversation these days. The locals dismissed her desires as nonsense, and wondered if she would ever consider a different choice of exotic pet, for no one had seen any unicorns around Altaira for decades. Not the variety she was describing, anyway.

Lord Rollington had at least tried to console the petulant princess, promising to find the money to charter a trip to India someday. There was a species of unicorn there, though not the kind she would have desired: a donkey-sized animal like a goat or antelope, with a white, black, and rust-colored coat and a straight conical horn that was colored similarly. This so-called ‘Indian Ass’ was fabulous enough, he had hoped, but her preference was clear: the unicorn she wanted would be like those from the manuscripts and tapestries of old, pure white in color with the body and cloven hooves of a deer, the tail of a lion, the head and mane of a horse, the beard of a goat, and a spiral horn on the forehead like a narwhal tusk that could purify water and heal even mortal wounds. The catch was that nobody had seen any such unicorn anywhere in the world, at least not that anyone knew in the kingdom. Plus, it was said that they were far too difficult to catch, never mind that she had no idea how to actually keep one. If they existed at all.

Why, Sterling thought bitterly, couldn’t Annabelle just stick to loving ponies?

Ten Tickles, or How To Make A Squid Laugh (TK)

Haven't posted here very much lately, but here's something I had in my backlog and decided to publish. This was an RP I did with a Discord friend, and really, it was only a matter of time before I did anything Splatoon-related. The Inklings featured are Cobalt, who belongs to said Discord friend - SquidSisterFan12 on DeviantArt, if you want to know - and Boldt, who is mine. I liked how this story turned out both before and after editing, though I did make a few edits so it'd be easier to read. I do hope to use Boldt again someday regardless.

Hope you readers enjoy!

Splatoon (c) Nintendo
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Ten Tickles, or How To Make A Squid Laugh

by Skaea

Contains: M/M tickling, focused on feet. SFW.

Word Count: 3,153

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It was a cool summer’s day in the colorful city of Inkopolis. In other words, a perfect day for the resident squid-kids to engage in a turf war almost every other minute, or snag the latest articles of cool clothing if they weren’t in the mood for a fight. There were some Inklings however who would prefer to stay indoors, though, and simply relax and watch the world go by from the relatively safety of their living spaces… assuming they didn’t get any unexpected visitors.

In one of the apartments, a blue-tentacled Inkling by the name of Cobalt was currently hanging in his apartment alone and playing video games. His partner Violet had business elsewhere, but he was currently free to do absolutely nothing else, and what more could he ask for?

“Ahh, nothing like kicking back and relaxing after countless missions with Violet,” he mused aloud. “Especially when there is absolutely nothing that’ll keep me occupied…”

Of course, it was only a second after he’d spoken before there was a knock on the door, and a voice. “Hello? Anyone home?”

Cobalt groaned in dismay. So much for peace and quiet. “Yes, someone is home,” he called back.

Beat. “This isn’t the home of my teammate, is it?” the voice asked. “…shoot, I musta gotten the wrong address…”

“Maybe not,” Colbat replied. “It’s okay, everyone gets the wrong address every now and then.”

“…you wanna let me in at least?” asked the newcomer. “I could use a lil’ R-and-R, especially after coming all this way…”

Cobalt wasn’t sure what to think for a few minutes, but ultimately he decided that there was no point in being rude. “I dunno… Hmm… Okay. I guess it’s only fair.” So it was that the blue Inkling went to his door and unlocked it and opened it. “Feel free to make yourself comfortable.”