Who's Better?
Asgrauwe
25.0%
4
Hellkit
50.0%
8
Lusca
25.0%
4
16 votes
| ASGRAUWE HELLKIT LUSCA Don't forget to vote in the other brackets! Bracket 1: https://myanimelist.net/forum/?topicid=2173074 Bracket 3: https://myanimelist.net/forum/?topicid=2173068 Bracket 4: https://myanimelist.net/forum/?topicid=2173067 Bracket 5: https://myanimelist.net/forum/?topicid=2173064 Bracket 6: https://myanimelist.net/forum/?topicid=2173063 |
tygertygerAug 12, 2024 10:28 AM
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
| Incoming vignettes in 3... 2... 1... Coming Home “Ash!” Innon called loudly, looking back the way she had come. An amorphous cloud of dark ash, highly visible against the brightly shining sun, swirled around her as if in a strong gust of wind. Though it did indeed feel like wind was catching in her torn clothes, whipping the cloth around, Innon knew that it had nothing to do with wind. “Ash!” She called again and winced softly as she placed another step down the steeply sloping path before her. “Stop that!” A sound, not even near to a voice, sounded out around her and the ashes stopped swirling around her. Immediately Innon noted how it got much colder, but at least she didn’t have to squint her eyes anymore to stop the ash from getting into them. She pulled her tattered shirt a little tighter about herself as she took another step, bracing herself with the makeshift crutch she had fashioned from a thick branch. “Why did you do that?” She asked the cloud of ashes, which was slowly coalescing into a shape resembling an oni. It lacked lower legs and the arms were not very well defined and it was very short. It was more of a dark, fairly dense core, surrounded by a lighter swirl of ash. The only thing quite well defined was the upper body and the head, which looked particularly similar to Innon. At least if you disregarded the fact that Innon’s skin was a proud red, while Ash was all black and gray. But the asgrauwe’s head featured the same proud horns that Innon herself had, and she had even fashioned the top of her head to resemble the tangle of wild braids that Innon carried her white hair in. In truth Innon still could not believe her luck. She had believed herself a dead woman after taking a tumble down that ravine. She had sprained her ankle in a way that left her struggling to walk at all and had lost most of her supplies in the bargain. After three days and nights of struggling in the freezing cold, she had had enough and had been just about ready to give up. That’s when Ash had shown up. She had barely even registered the young asgrauwe at first. Dark ash swirling against the dark sky while she lay curled up and shivering fiercely. She had only truly noticed her when the cold had suddenly faded. Innon chuckled wryly, which caused Ash to tilt her swirling head. At first she had thought that losing her sense of cold was the signal that it was about to end. But then the sensation had slowly but surely crawled itself back into her limbs as a cover of warm ash settled about her, she had realized she might live after all. Innon had never met an asgrauwe before, had only really heard about them in passing, but this one was surely exceedingly strange. She did not talk, nor did she seem to understand Innon’s words at all. It had taken some time for her to listen to the name Innon had given her. Surely ‘Ash’ wasn’t the most imaginative name, but then again, Innon had been tired, cold and hurting at the time. Well, if Ash was in any way bothered with her simplistic name, she didn’t show it. Or at least Innon could not figure it out. In truth, there was very little Innon could readily figure out about Ash. She was simply very strange. A stiff breeze suddenly blew across the slope and the semi solid form of Ash dissipated, blown apart and carried forward. Innon might have been slightly worried, if not for the fact that the facsimile of an oni’s head was still fully constituted and danced on the wind. Innon could not say for sure, but it sure looked like Ash was having fun. She chuckled again, then grimaced as she took another step. Was it really okay to take Ash back home with her? Would she even enjoy being in a small town? Innon wasn’t sure, but it wasn’t like she could ask Ash and expect an answer. In any case, she could not stop Ash from following her. Innon managed to forget about the pain of her injured foot as she thought of home. Thought of her husband and thought of her daughter waiting for her. She regretted that her hunt had been a fruitless one, but surely the two would be glad to see her back safe and, for the most part, sound. Surely they would be happy to see her savior as well. And she would be so happy to see them. She would pick up her daughter and whirl her around and then she would pick up her husband and throw him onto the bed. Her body grew a little warmer as she imagined how he might show her how happy he was that she had come back to him. Having Ash meet her husband filled her with just a little bit of trepidation. In spite of her strange behavior, Ash was a mamono and would surely have a reaction to meeting a man. Especially one as handsome and strapping as Innon’s husband. And Innon knew from firsthand experience that Ash was not shy about getting up close and personal. Bolstered by thoughts of home, Innon kept slowly and steadily making her way back down the mountainous slopes, constantly accompanied by Ash swirling around her, poking her and stroking her, flitting here and there and often seeming to stare at Innon with some demand or desire Innon could not even begin to guess at. Finally, night fell. They were close, close enough that Innon felt dearly tempted to simply continue on. But her foot was in bad shape and she dared not make the final bit of the climb down in the dark. And so Innon spent a bit of time preparing a bedside for herself and finally laid down to rest. It did not take long before she felt tendrils of warm ash reaching out to her skin. Every night Ash had warmed her and it seemed this night would be no different. “Hey!” Innon called as she felt the ash reach beneath her tattered shirt. “What are you doing?” But of course she did not get a reply. Instead she felt Ash’s solidifying hands and arms reach under the remains of her shirt and grab her breasts. The asgrauwe’s oni-like head loomed over her, dark against the darkening sky. Only the place where the eyes should have been was different. They were glowing like dying embers in the ashes of a fire. A pair of semi-solid hands were playing with her breasts and Innon was torn between telling Ash to knock it off or to remain quiet and enjoy the joyful warmth radiating from the asgrauwe. She yipped as Ash seemed to form a second pair of hands further below, which forced their way past the waistband of her trousers, which were nearly as badly tattered as her shirt was. “Ahhh… stop, Ash!” She yowled. Her own hands went below her waistband to pull Ash’s hands away from her sensitive center, but she could not find any purchase. There were no wrists to grab, and when she tried to grab one of the hands it simply grew unsubstantial as the fingers continued to tease her. The head above her continued to stare at her, and though there was no discernible expression on its dark face, Innon had the distinct expression that Ash felt curiosity and amusement at that moment. She wondered what had gotten into Ash. She had warmed her every night but had never before tried to touch her in such a way. Innon trembled and sighed and finally stopped struggling against the asgrauwe. She was much too tired, and if she was being entirely truthful it felt good to be touched this way. To feel alive and warm. Surely her husband would not be cross with her if she enjoyed this warmth on the final night of her ordeal? She craned up her neck and placed a kiss where the lips should have been on the ash-oni’s face. She might have expected to find the sensation strange, perhaps even unpleasant. Like kissing ash. But it was not so. It was warm and pleasant. Suddenly, Ash lit up. Her normally dark-gray or even black body particles began to softly glow like embers. The dim glow that imitated eyes was a pair of brightly smoldering orbs now. The head floating above her grew in definition and copied Innon’s own features much more finely. She moaned softly as Ash grew warmer and warmer. Ash responded by re-intensifying her teasing of Innon’s breasts and pussy. The glowing head above her descended to kiss her, having full, sensuous lips of her own now. Innon wrapped her arms around Ash, only to find that there was nothing substantial enough to actually hold onto. Thinking back to how she enjoyed squeezing her husband while they were in bed together, she resolved to teach Ash the value and the pleasure of a hug if the opportunity should present itself. But, for the time being, Innon was warm and happy. She felt good and, most importantly, she was almost home. |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
| A Queen Moves Neither Cassilda nor her sister Camilla had any idea what their captors wanted from them. In fact, the thugs did not seem to know themselves either. The milk and tendrils they had taken were not nearly valuable enough to explain why they had abducted them. No, there had to be another reason; something more sinister perhaps. For now, only the masked yellow lady knew what they were doing so far out here in the wilderness. She had inspected the sisters after their capture six days ago, but had since vanished. Not even the thugs knew where she had gone or when she would be back… but that she would be back seemed all but inevitable. Judging by the amount of supplies the thugs had stockpiled they expected to be here for a while. That did not stop them from growing bored, though. Most had left early in the morning to hunt and would likely not be back before dusk. Six had stayed behind to keep an eye on the captives. Aside from the sisters there was one other captive, a melusine with a strange, radiant, pink sigil over her womb that emitted a searing heat. While the sisters knew little about magic, they had discussed the sigil at great lengths. Wondering what its occult purpose was. After all, who else but the masked lady could have placed such a powerful yet strange spell. It was blatantly clear that the sigil was painful and highly uncomfortable, yet part of Cassilda wanted one too; The lure of learning more about it through experiencing it firsthand was just too great. “Ha, aces! I win!” a thug exclaimed as she threw down her cards to show her hand. Her shrill voice immediately snapped Cassilda out of her thoughts. “Now, now, don’t get ahead of yourself. I have three fours!” another thug replied in an overly smug manner. Cassilda could not deny that the seven-tailed blonde fox-girl had a stunning feral beauty to her, so it was a shame that her personality was exceptionally unpleasant. Some muttered curses followed. “Well would you look at that, it appears I’ll be getting first choice again after all. And girl are my fangs itching for some good meat!” Ugh. Why did the nasty youko have to win again? Camilla complained through her pheromones. It was a sentiment Cassilda shared. Yesterday she had chosen Camilla as her prize play-thing and it had been horrible. As the other thugs reshuffled the cards to play another round, the youko came over to claim her prize. She briefly inspected the melusine and Camilla, but unsurprisingly settled on Cassilda; the only one who did not bear marks of her abuse yet. The youko grinned and flashed her fangs. They were huge for a fox girl, sharp too. “Today I feel like trying something new. Something… daring,” the youko hissed maniacally as she licked her teeth. “But first, you are going to something for me. Not a word, only licking, or else I’ll cut off your tongue. Is that clear?” the youko threatened as she removed Cassilda’s gag. Intimidated Cassilda stayed quiet as a mouse and nodded timidly. “Good. You know what to do,” the youko stated smugly as she guided Cassilda’s face towards her short skirt. Of course, she was not wearing anything underneath. Cassilda was greeted by the glistening smooth folds of the aroused kitsune and a cute tuft of blonde hair placed right above her slit. Why did the friggin’ fox have to be so attractive? Cassilda thought to herself. Then a pleasant musk reached her nostrils and tendrils. Dammit! And she smells good too? Not much you can do about that, Camilla signaled. Shit! I did not mean to share that! Too late. Now get to work. Would not want to piss her off. It’s going to be bad enough as is, Camilla warned. While diligently using her tongue to draw symbols on the fox girl’s pink bud, Cassilda was annoyed with herself that even the taste turned her on. Especially when in the meantime the kitsune was inspecting her tendrils looking for the tastiest one to claim. Picking them up, kneading, sniffing, and even licking them. If the youko had been a man or a futa, she might have understood why her legs were shaking and her own slit was soaked, but this kitsune was a mean woman she did not like at all. At least the vixen was easy to please and soon she closed her legs around Cassilda’s head. Firmly pushing it into her climaxing womanhood glazing her face with fox juices. She then released her and gagged her again. Once finished she immediately chomped down on one of Cassilda's tendrils. She had expected her to bite—she had done the same to Camilla—but it was still more painful than she had imagined. But, there was nothing she could do. Her gag smothered her pained screams, the ropes gave no quarter, and the people that might come to her rescue were just as helplessly restrained as she was. No, she was wholly at the youko’s mercy. Her torment lasted for what felt like an eternity as the fox girl took cruel pleasure in using her as a chew-toy. With every bite those nasty fangs pierced her skin and sunk deep into her flesh leaving painful puncture wounds. Yet it got even worse when the youko finally decided she was hungry. Rather than sever the tendril first before having a snack, she simply began taking bites out of it inflicting unbearable agony. This youko was a psycho. Yet despite everything, Cassilda was still dripping wet and her profusely lactating bosom provided the kitsune with all the milk she could wish for to wash down the meaty chunks she had bitten off. It was infuriating to see the youko’s cruelty being rewarded like this. “What is this!? I do not pay you to abuse my actors!“ a booming, creepy voice echoed through the cove. The voice filled Cassilda with a primal fear that eclipsed every fear she had ever felt before. The masked lady had returned and she was not pleased. To Cassilda’s utter astonishment, the fox girl seemed more irate that her play-time was being interrupted than intimidated. She spat at the masked lady “We’re bored to tears over here while you are out doing the fuck knows what. I’d say we’ve earned some fun time with the slaves! Besides, who cares if they get hurt?” Cassilda could not believe that the fox girl could be this oblivious. Is she insane? Camilla signaled equally flabbergasted. “Is that so?” the masked lady asked coldly. In the blink of an eye the blonde fox was pulled through the air and thrown on the ground next to the lady. “What the…” the fox girl yelped. Before she could fully process what just had happened the lady took off her mask and turned to the youko. Cassilda failed to catch a glimpse of the lady’s face, which was perhaps for the better as the blood curdling scream coming from the youko chilled her to the bone. It was easily the worst thing she had ever experienced. Heck, even her tendril being eaten alive paled in comparison. Seeing the kitsune fall to her knees screaming in utter terror while clawing at her own face before collapsing into a miserable heap, was something Cassilda did not wish upon her worst enemy, not even that youko. Meanwhile the lady put her mask back on and casually walked into the camp. The thugs were as shocked by what just had happen as Cassilda was. “W-w-wwhat did you do to her?” the bravest one asked timidly. “I made her stare into her own soul. It was not pretty,” the lady stated matter-of-factly. “Look after her, she soiled herself.” “O-of course, ma’am,” the thug stammered as she quickly ran over to the youko. “My actors look horrible. They can’t act like this! From now on there shall be no more abuse. The lusca still need milking, but you will be doing so the normal way. I want double rations for the melusine, and triple for the lusca; they need to recover. Unless they are eating do keep them gagged, though. Lusca have a way with words that can easily sway weak minded people like you lot,” the masked lady ordered. She then continued on towards Cassilda. Every fiber of her being wanted to flee, but the restraints said no. “Can you read?” the masked lady asked. Her strange voice sounded like two ever so slightly off-pitch voices overlapping each other. Cassilda nodded. “Splendid,” the lady answered. She procured several pages of parchment from somewhere within her long yellow robe and handed them to Cassilda. The ropes that bound her immediately slid off so she could accept the manuscript. “The play is incomplete, for now. Nevertheless I expect all three of you to study it and learn your lines. Is that clear?” She nodded; of course Cassilda was not going to say no to a woman who had just dumpstered a seven-tailed youko like she was a worn out ragdoll. “Excellent!” The lady turned around and without any further words headed back into the wilderness. Only after she had left Cassilda realized she had never revealed who exactly was supposed to play which role. With the lady the dread left too. It made way for cautious excitement. All things considered, this had been a most fortunate intervention. Not only was the abuse now likely a thing of the past, but these pages might be holding some of the answers they so desperate craved. So, Cassilda eagerly began reading the script. Mere moments later, though, she felt the blood drain from her face as a chill ran up her spine. Eeh, Camilla? Have you let our names slip? she signaled. No, why? Camilla replied. Well, neither have I. So then why are the main characters sisters named Cassilda and Camilla? |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
| I find both vignettes to be enjoyable reads -- Coming Home because who doesn't like a good h-scene and A Queen Moves because the drama is top notch. My decision comes down to which of these stories I'd most like to see more of, and for that I must go with the plight of our betentacled sisters. So I declare the winner of this h-off to be... the lusca! |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
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