lottiesmonsters

[lottiesmonsters]

Brave new world...

The barrier lied of what was on the other end of it, showing various skylines based on perceived season...or whatever the mages in charge thought best. Rain and snow and thunderstorms came and went on mood alone it seemed. But outside it all, where magic sparked wild and free, the sky was a single color. A beautiful color. My color.

Lavender.

I was shades of that sky. Nori said my hair looked like fluffy candied clouds, my skin a fading sunrise on a stormy morning...my eyes the pinks of dusk. 

A way with words, my Nori.

I've heard all manner of comparisons in my long life. Enough to make me question if everyone sees me differently.

But, other than the big black horns and matching tail, whipping about without my say-so often enough to have cut it off—it grows back—I am all different shades of lavender.

As the sky was outside. Leaves met it, in bright greens, browns, yellows and deep, dark reds. Their trunks varied as much as their color. Yet they waited miles off. Just ahead of me was a rocky wasteland, gray and sunbeaten, stretching as far as I could see to the left and right. I wondered, in all that emptiness, where other adventurers might be. Nori returned from a quest not long ago, which is why her pass was expired. But others, surely, would have been out there. Yet I saw no one...

Bag firm across my chest, gifted armor firm on my skin—shimmering then in all the colors of that lavender night—I set off toward the endless tree line. Toward a wide arch bent into the branches, welcoming me in.

I didn't make it to the trees.

Close, close enough to see the river and a waterfall through the boughs. Not close enough, or aware enough, to evade the vines...

I'd been warned of random encounters, monsters waiting to pounce from anywhere at any time, but not trees. There were dryads in the city, leafy humans mostly, lithe and small and spilling giggles. Summoned things, like myself, unnatural and strange but still human-ish.

This was no dryad. It hardly looked human, more a horrible horticultural spell gone wrong. Some mage that either transformed themselves into a monstrous abomination...or made one for fun. Yet it was beautiful, enchanting in a way.

The thing that grabbed me, I mean. Towering as high as any tree, he appeared one himself at first, but there was a face in the leaves. Fangs in the smile and the trunk was a chest, a torso with branches for arms, articulated twigs for fingers, all carved so sweetly of soft greens. Tangled in his vines, soft and dry as they were, there was no question of the impending danger. But I couldn't seem to care. That greenery tightened and tightened on my ankles, more snapped to snatch wrists and lift me higher and higher and still I stared. Smiling, I stared.

I'd not smelled flowers so sweet and the closer those vines pulled me toward a mouth near the size of my head the more I shivered for its promise. For the slick pink tongue hanging from lips too full, the bright purples of his eyes.

His, yes. At least equipped as one, a thing as slick and pink as his tongue hanging low and thick from where hips would be on a man...but who could know with plants.

Cool the tongue, stretching out to lick and taste my neck and cheek. As a too long finger teased my horns, another my hair, and yet another my tail.

He smiled and…

Mm, long as my hands those fangs. It had been ages since I felt fangs in my skin.

"What a peculiar flower you are," his voice sang, a breeze through leaves it sang.

While mine cooed, as it tends to do when I'm taken by something so pretty and new, "your flower...if you want me."

Shock flashed in deliciously deep grooves through his massive face and he pulled me closer. Enough to smell the syrup of his breath, "mine?"

"Mm-hmm," I was generally better at words, at flirting even, no matter the what I'd been faced with.

But there was more at play there. Something tickling deep and wet without touching. I tasted blood before realizing it mine, that I'd bit clean through my lip.

Slow, careful, his tongue as it caught it. And I learned his voice was sweeter when he moaned...

"A treat then, an offering from that grand and burning shell?" He asked, teasing under my armor with more vines. "Waiting to burn me while I play with you."

Soft, impossibly so, each vine coaxed gasped breaths as they dug.

"A treat, but not theirs," I promised, finding familiarity in the scent of him, the want of him. Hunger bubbling with it, I had to have him. Wriggling, I managed to touch the vine in my chestplate and urge its tip out and to my lips with a tease of my own. How sweet his breaths as I tasted it, rough and slow, running my tongue along all I could before meeting those brighter eyes, "yours, beautiful...I'm all yours."

Eyeing the dome behind me, the creature smiled and pulled me to the bark of his chest. Skin. Supple skin it was, grooved and delectably rough but warm and tender to the touch. As was the arm replacing every vine to hold me there while he turned and...well, he didn't walk or slither exactly.

It was more he allowed himself to be pulled into the woods by whatever his torso ended in—dug into the earth as it was.

While I enjoyed the ride, nestled in a scent suggesting a feast in my future…

[lottiesmonsters]

Come My Pretty...Devour Me

In the silence of the hall, all that answered her unspoken question were the popping torches set into the walls. They burned so brightly violet, staining the stone in grim purples, their sudden flicker to red all that warned of the danger. A flicker Faelyn did not see, her eyes too focused on the figure in the stone, mind yearning to know the feel of its skin, the taste. She did not hear the thump, nor the squelching pop as what lurked behind her neared. Not until its wet tendrils wrapped her wrists did she react, and by then her scream could not be heard–muffled as it was by greater tendrils tightening around her face.

Faelyn jerked in a slimy grip her but her efforts only eased her deeper into the goo of its shapeless body. That goo prickled her skin, burning as it slowly swallowed her and its tendrils wrapped tighter, too solid for the body that bore them. They forced her to turn and the goo dripped ever-hotter, eating away the silks of her robe until she writhed fully bare in its grip.

Her backside chilled, exposed as it turned her further, suckling the tips of her breasts with its hungry slime. Then the snap came, hot and sudden as a paddle against her exposed skin and Faelyn screamed into the goo. That goo dripped as her lips parted, it sunk and wriggled into her mouth to heat her tongue.

And then it slapped again, forcing her further into it, breasts and thighs burning as it held them tighter, and then again. It snapped and snapped, too hard, too hot and Faelyn wailed as the tendrils at her wrists yanked her ever lower–deeper into the goo.

It squirmed around her, pulling closer and slipped as easily between her legs as it had her lips. But it burned hotter there and it did not drip, it coiled and twisted, shaping itself into a thicker tendril than those that trapped her. She moaned again, sucking more of it into her throat and the goo shifted, it bubbled around her face allowing warm air into her nostrils.

It did not want to suffocate, to kill, and Faelyn had that single breath to consider the kindness of it…before the tendril between her legs split and spiked.

Full novella available here

[lottiesmonsters]

A Little Tease for Dinner

We were in our living room, in our apartment which being we were in the ‘Underlore District’ meant cave. Great big cave, mind, carved into an impossible mountain that appeared to be a dragon’s skull from the outside. Our slice of this cake was a hovel, however. Just big enough to accommodate Nori’s bulk. I believe...Ogre is the correct term? She also answers to Oni, but I’ve not known any others to use the term.

Point is she’s big, real big, and I could have her on her knees whenever I—no, we’re focusing on the what and the how not the longing.

I made mention of needing funds and Nori did what Nori always did, she tried to be helpful, “What, whoring not earning enough anymore?” After she was bitchy. Jealous thing, my Nori…

“It isn’t whoring, it’s feeding,” I told her fingers, kissing each as I spoke.

And she smiled for it, before rolling her eye as I suckled a few, “you feed and they pay for the privilege before shoving you on your way.” Taking her hand back, she gripped my waist, needing only the one and pulled me to her chest, “when I’m right here and actually like having you around.”

I couldn’t tell her she was tired all the time because of how often I fed on her. Couldn’t admit I was the reason she wasn’t able to take as many quests as she used to. Or that staying too close, too long with me and allowing me to feed so deep and often...was killing her. But I had to show my appreciation for such kindness and, coiling my tail around her arm I aimed for a soft kiss on her shoulder. Another on her neck as she breathed slow and sweet and kept talking.

“If, if you need money, Lav...you, you could try the guilds,” she met my lips, allowing a taste of tongue—how mine scraped against her tusks, I miss it—but the nibble to the ear stalled our moment. Or maybe it was the hand into the low-cut delight of her shirt, careful to titillate as it aimed for her ti—She stopped me, held me away, “what are you doing…”

“You want me, don’t you?” Cooed, my words, truthful as I related what she’d clearly requested, “lifting me up here,” through more tastes of lips—each one allowed, pulled into—“keeping me close.”

It didn’t matter, she shook her head.

But she did want me, I knew she did. There’s a scent to it and hers was a warm syrup, sweetly cinnamon. She wanted the touch. If not the hands offering. So I slipped into my other shape, easy as a sigh and I was thicker, broader...hairier. A shape she enjoyed more.

With a deeper voice, gruff and ever so slightly rasped, "what about now?"

She bit her lip for the little dance I offered, balancing on my tail to lean away from her arm. I even pulled my shirt up for the fuzzy stomach she so loved to nibble. Once or twice she even bit through it. My meat is not, hm, edible like the men she feasts on, however so she always spits me back out. A delight the sensation. Sharp teeth so hungry, and the ecstasy she spills whenever control is lost enough to bite, to yank...to chew.

Luckily I heal quick.

Aching for that taste, Nori still shook her head and, giggling, refused me, “Not now, delicious.”

Why do they do that, I wonder. Deny what they want. The oddities of living among mortals, I suppose, but society dictated I stop. They didn’t taste too good when forced anyway.

Another sigh and I was back in the less hairy, but hardly less thick, shape I favored.

Buxom, voluptuous, soft mommy, delectable titles all. More so than the ones for the other, they were always rougher with him. Unkind in wording but gentle in touch. Oh, but he was fun to wear. Especially under Nori. So I pouted, there's no shame in it. I was disappointed.

Yanking free and coiling my tail to land gently, I stomped to our couch, flopped into cushions too large for me and pouted, “tell me more of these Quest Boards then, if you’re just going to tease.”

If I’d known it would be my last day with her I’d have pushed instead of pouting. Would have loosed pheromones, shook my hair out, maybe rubbed my horns on hers like she loved.

But I didn’t.

And Nori laughed, hearty and echoing her laugh. It could shake the windows if she let it. Was she laughing at me, I wonder? Laughing because I didn’t try as hard as I tended to. Did she want more of a challenge? Questions best left unanswered, I imagine.

“Most just need couriers,” she explained, “but there's a lot of exploration quests too. Lot of things outside the barrier that people pay big money to know about.” Sitting next to me, she laughed again for how I scooted further, refused to look at her. “You're pretty tough, delicious, hard to hurt. You could explore the Wylds and bring back proof of what's out there...maybe some Wyld monster parts, those sell well.”

That was worth a glance, an eyebrow of consideration, “monsters? Something bigger and scarier than what’s in the city?”

Smiling, biting more laughter, Nori nodded, “much bigger, though I doubt you’d want to eat these.” Sly, her smile, as she leaned to add, “and they won’t pay.”

Close enough to steal a kiss, I leapt and wrapped my tail around her neck as I knew she enjoyed. Again and again I tasted those lips, and she held me close to allow it, fed me that ridiculous tongue of hers until I was choking on it.

If only we could have stayed that way a little longer. But Nori was insistent on not being dinner...and I have never been able to have such fun without feeding.

Hm, now I’m stuck wondering if she did know. Suppose it’s too late to ask now.

Anyway, she pushed me away, offering an apologetic smile to my angry pout and we found more public-appropriate clothing before heading to the city center and the Quest Board.

[lottiesmonsters]

Come My Pretty...a little flirting, as a treat

The mists pulsed and puffed, answering the request of its mistress with images of the invader. Robe wrapped tight, tied and clinging to her moistened skin, the Princess barreled through the corridors of Hetrellia’s dungeon. Empty corridors slid by, void of all but violet torches and bas-reliefs of Hetrellia herself, carved of glittering black stone.

The Princess froze before one of the sculptures, tracing its features with too great an interest and Hetrellia urged her mists closer. That interest shivered through the Princess, the bumps it left on her skin unhidden by the thin silks of her robe. She bit her lip as she stared, as she studied.

Then she spoke, “Is this voluptuous figure yours, witch?”

Hetrellia ducked, knees thumping the rug and hid her face before she remembered.

She cannot see through the glass, you idiot, She scolded herself.

“Cannot hear either,” She scolded aloud. “Did she say voluptuous?”

Hetrellia tilted her eyes toward her petite chest, the folds of her stomach and the thickness of her thighs. She even stood and twisted, angling herself before the mirror for a glance at her wide hips and generous backside.

“Is she blind?” She asked the mirror.

It said nothing, it knew better.

But the Princess spoke again, through the mists in the glass, “I will escape your little dungeon, witch, and if this is you; I insist you meet me at its exit, on your hands and knees to beg my forgiveness.”

Hetrellia swooned at the command in the Princess’ rich voice. But it was a momentary lapse, only a moment, before she glared.

“To beg your what?” She shouted, but as the heat left her cheeks, and her breath had calmed, she smiled slow and sharp. “Oh, we think ourselves the new Mistress of my tower, do we? Well, let us test that hubris, Princess…”

The hall the Princess stood in appeared empty, but Hetrellia knew better. Her halls were never empty; no invading force could count on safety within her walls. Danger waited unseen but always in reach and her smile grew as she spied it.

On the ceiling, too high for the dallying Princess to spy, a puddle of shadow paler than the stone glistened. She sent her mists at it, to disturb the wriggling dark and on their touch the puddle rippled.

Then it fell.

“Tame this, you petulant wench,” Hetrellia spat at the scryer as she crawled back onto her bed, smoothing the wrinkled sheets and nudging the glass ball to a dryer spot…to watch.

Full novella available here

[lottiesmonsters]

"We're going to write a filthy scene with a tree-monster."

Writes two chapters of wordbuilding and character building, creating a romance between the main character and someone she's unlikely to ever see again. Doesn't even let them get naked.

"I don't think we know how to do this..."

[lottiesmonsters]

One should introduce themselves, I suppose.

So hello there, little darlings, I am Lottie and I like monsters more than I ought. If you also like monsters, and perhaps filthy jokes and occasionally cheesy, overly poetic prose...you may enjoy your stay here.

On that note, I've a novella published featuring a tower of monsters and a princess eager to know them--link under the cut.

I am also working on another featuring a wise-cracking succubus exploring a wilderness of big, scary beasties.

I like to share, so expect some snippets of things and I'm not shy so feel free to ask anything or tag me in anything.

Tags on this post will lead to what's posted so far.

Have fun.

Come My Pretty

A filthy little tale of a bored witch and a promiscuous princess she accidentally summons into her dungeon. A princess who takes a decidedly unorthodox approach to "subduing" the monsters that inhabit said dungeon.

[lottiesmonsters]

Life in Lavender

Oh, these are always so difficult to start. How much do I want to give away, should I tease you a bit...hm. I suppose I should introduce myself, shouldn’t I? I mean you are reading my journals...or a collection of them, I don’t know how this works but somehow you’re reading this and you should know who wrote it.

My name is Lavender, so named as it is my dominating feature. Lavender hair, specifically, billowing in great clouds of tangled awful—if you ask me, but none ever do. My skin is tinted ever so the same. Mostly I am paper-white, or ‘ethereal and pearlescent’ as the cultists who summoned me would say. I do miss them, on occasion…

But this isn’t about them. It’s about me. So let’s talk about me. Gross. Okay, I am...well, I’m not sure, entirely. I came fully formed when summoned, learned as I fed, depending on who I fed upon and have yet to meet anything like me. I’m female, I’m told but only when I wish to be. I can me male as well and anything in between. It depends on what my meal desires, really. Whatever will please them most and net me the grandest feast. Sexual energy is my food, in case that’s unclear. To get needlessly specific, it is the ecstasy. Those delectable, sweat-soaked moments when pleasure is at its height.

Which means I change often, for everyone, and myself have no preference. Everyone is delicious. So long as they desire me and what we do together...I am fed.

It is important to share this personal introduction so that you, whoever you are, will understand why I went where I did. Why I did what I did and why it led...where it did.

Hm, I may not be the right fit for this. Writing is an art of words and my artistic skills are strictly of the flesh. Not to say seduction isn’t an art unto itself, just that I rarely need to employ it. I’ve a scent to me, one of suggestion and lust which targets those attracted to whichever shape I’ve taken. Unfortunately I am but the one size, and general structure...so its thick, horned woman or thick, horned man either one possessing of the others features if desired. No taller, no thinner, no other colors.

Yet that’s been plenty. Few have refused me. In fact, I don’t so much seek as I am sought.

Which leads to why I left the city, actually. So many repeat meals, same flavors again and again. I wanted something new. It's possible that it says something about you when even getting naked and sweaty with dragons isn’t enough excitement.

But I'm not sure what.

I also wanted money…

Do you know how expensive shape-changing clothing is? Let alone lingerie? It’s absurd. I don’t need any other food, or water either but I do sleep and I like to be clean, so I need a bed and a shower. A roof is nice. Somewhere to relax a bonus. All of those cost money. Money I wasn’t making enough of, and I was fucking the landlord! Dragon of a woman, in a literal sense. Fun time, every time, but she decided money was more important than a regular lay and I had to start paying rent.

So here we are.

Or, rather, were...as I am not there anymore. Or here? See, this is already confusing.

We’ll start with how I came to my decision, with the help of my roommate—and sometimes lover, I miss you so, Nori—who introduced me to the city’s Quest Board. Something she does once or twice a week, coming home too tired play with me. She’s an adventurer, you see, often decked out in enchanted leather that hugs every delicious curve of her thick, muscled figure. Great big sword on her back, black hair braided down to a perfectly sculpted a—

Right, I was telling you about the Quest Board.

I didn’t start keeping a proper journal until I was mired in the consequences of my actions, so this will simply be a bit of ‘storytime’.

//taglist\\

Yell to be added/removed

@theprissythumbelina

[lottiesmonsters]

Come, My Pretty...Princess Charming

Hetrellia stared into the mists, breath quaking as the Princess dropped the Minotaur to his knees. Eager and firm, the Princess' lips followed hand to arm and arm to chest. She dug through his thick fur to find the skin beneath and kissed and bit her way down. Lower, further down the Minotaur’s trembling stomach she traveled until she found what she had sought, and it twitched with her touch.

“Is this all for me?” The Princess’ voice cooed through the mists of the scryer, the growl of it prickling Hetrellia's bare skin.

The Minotaur snorted, one heavy hand moving to grip between the Princess' thighs. She gasped as the fingers of that hand pressed closer, rubbing too soft for the muscles that flexed beneath them.

“Oh, what a gentleman,” She breathed, gripping what then throbbed; hard and full at her fingertips.

“Wh-what?” Hetrellia asked her scryer, shivering with the sight as much as the touch and then she moaned as the Minotaur’s fingers–so thick, so rough–slipped through the moist heat that dripped from the Princess.

And the Princess moaned with her, returning the Minotaur’s touch with both hands firm along his tender flesh. Then, full lips open and guided by his gentle push, she accepted him. Her tongue touched first, wet and hot and she tasted him, tracing the tip of his bulk and lapping what dripped. The Minotaur’s unoccupied hand gripped her head then, fingers tangling in her curls, and forced her to take more–to devour him. The Princess gagged then moaned as the Minotaur’s fingers pressed deeper into her, pumping harder and faster. In answer, she twirled her hot tongue too sweetly, pulling him ever further into her throat.

Hetrellia gasped at the shared sensation and threw the glass ball off her with a shrieked, "What!"

She stared at the ball as it rolled from mattress to rug, bouncing against the soft fabric. Then she scrunched into herself as deep, feral growls mixed with the lilting rhythm of the Princess' muffled moans.

"What sort of Princess is this?" She asked those sounds, but the heat in her cheeks throbbed through her chest, warming more and more until it burned between her legs. That heat growled from her lips, far too excited to bite down, "What sort of Princess is this?" She asked again and scrambled to reclaim the scryer.

Full novella available here