Author’s Note: This story is based VERY LOOSELY on the Monster Girl Encyclopedia. More specifically, I took the idea of a world of hot monster girls and populated it with my own monsters of choice. Hope you enjoy it. Please review/comment if you have the time. Thanks!
My head spins for a moment, my vision returning in a foggy blur. I blink my eyes once, then twice. When I see my surroundings I close my eyes tightly and open them again, to see if I can rectify what my mind obviously didn’t see properly. But still my surroundings appear the same. I am lying on a small road, a path made by the footsteps of travelers pounding grass into dirt. I am in the middle of a light forest; trees border the road and arch over it, but they don’t quite form a tunnel. I am still dressed in my usual black attire, and I have the distinct feeling I’m nowhere near my home.
Today, I received in the mail a copy of a Japanese book I’d ordered a few weeks prior. An English translation of course, as I’m too impatient to learn the complex Japanese language. The book, entitle Monster Girl Adventure, chronicled all sorts of delightful monstrous female creatures and their fantasy world. Amazons, spider-women, female dragons, harpies, and all with the need to feed off of human males. There were no male monsters. Human men were used for reproduction, their semen was absorbed for life force, as was their saliva and sweat by some monster girls, and sometimes the unfortunate men were eaten. Needless to say, the whole idea was fairly hot, so I ordered the English book.
When I received it, I hurried up to my room at home, my heavy black boots pounding up the stairs. I locked my door, turned on the stereo, and plopped onto my bed to delve into this world of monster girls. Being both a heavy metal fan and a fantasy nerd were not great ways to wow the ladies, so I opted to lose myself in these fantasies. I opened the book and saw a table of contents listing monster girls by their type.
As I flipped to the first page, I remember my surroundings suddenly began to lose their focus. I became less aware of the stereo and its blaring thrash metal. My bed seemed to be present, but only in principle; I couldn’t really feel it, it just held me up. The air was cooler, but my ceiling fan was off. I began to read and then…
As I stand now on the path, checking my pockets to ensure I’ve not been robbed, I wonder where I am. My cell phone has no signal, which is just typical for it. I find myself thankful that I still have my knife, a five inch steel folding blade that never leaves my pocket. Wherever I am, it’s looking like evening and I’d rather not be alone out here in the dark.
To that end, I set off toward the setting sun, west along the dirt track. The trees seem to get a bit thicker, which is disheartening, as I’d hoped to clear the forest by nightfall and find out where I was. Get my bearings at least. As it stands, I recognize approximately nothing of any practical use. This is why, when I round a wide bend in the path and see a woman moving slowly down the center of the road, I hurry toward her.
She is moving slowly, and wearing a hat and cloak. All the same, I can discern that she is a woman. The feminine hands, the sweep of her ample bosom; perhaps a bit of a larger woman, but what does that matter. From a distance I smell a scent rolling off her in waves, a pungent, sweet perfume that is like nothing I’ve ever smelled. Perhaps made from some exotic berries.
“Excuse me, ma’am!” I call out, going for polite so she won’t mistake me for some metalhead thug and run away. “I’m lost, I have no idea where I am or how I got here, can you help me?”
“You aren’t from around here are you?” she responds in an intrigued tone. “You don’t smell like any other man from here.”
“Uh… sure, right.” I fumble for words after such an odd reply. “How about helping me find a phone so I can call a cab and get home?”
“I don’t know what those things are, but I won’t help you find them.” she bluntly explains. “Do you know what I am? You don’t, do you?”
“An unhelpful bitch?” I try.
She laughs and in a single motion, her cloak and hat fly off, and I scream. Her head and torso appear normal, though her eyes are solid black. Her skin is discolored, it is inordinately pink. She wears nothing under the cloak. But her lower body, pink as the rest of her, is a sticky mass of mucus-like flesh. It is a slug’s body. My jaw drops and my eyes go wide with fear. Reflexively, my pocket knife snaps open in my hand and I take up a defensive pose.
“Silly boy,” she coos, “you can’t hurt me. Haven’t you ever seen a monster before?”
“Monster?! Where am I?” I demand.
“They don’t have monsters where you come from?” she asks, genuinely curious. “You really are far from home. But it’s okay, I’ll make you forget all that. You’ll be such a good pet.”
Monsters? A pet? It hits me then… the book! Am I, am I somehow inside that world, inside the Monster Girl Adventure tome, or it’s world at least? How? Why? As a true nerd I’ve always loved the idea of exploring a book’s world, but this is madness. It’s impossible.
While my mind reels, the Slug Girl has moved closer and she makes a grab at me. Though her upper body looks normal, it is still slimy and sticky. She catches my left wrist and I can’t shake lose, try though I might. My knife darts forward to slice at her ample bosom, only to get stuck, blade-first, in her cleavage. The Slug Girl giggles and with a small grunt of effort, expels the knife from her body and sends it clattering away.
“Let go!” I cry as she pulls me into a sticky embrace.
“You’ll feel so good, and taste so good.” she purrs ecstatically.
“Taste?” I gulp. “Are you going to eat me?”
“I’ll feed on your life force,” she elaborates, “and keep you as my little pet. You’ll love it.”
As I struggle, she lifts me up slightly, pressing me against her so that my legs adhere to her bulk and I can’t reach the ground. I scream loudly, crying out in fear and dismay. My heart hammers in my chest, my muscles shake from trying to pull free of her adhesive body, but to no avail. I am panicking as the Slug Girl carries me off the road, moving slowly between the trees with a slithering, squelching sound. But even as I cry out in terror and thrash pathetically in my captress’ embrace, I feel my manhood stiffen at being carried off by this monster girl. How can this be arousing? She’s half slug!
“I’m begging you,” I try once more, “let me down and I’ll leave you alone, I promise.”
“But I want you.” she informs me. “So now you belong to me. I won’t hurt you, too much, my little pet boy.”
We’ve come to the mouth of a small, dark cave, a deeper black against the blackness of the now night-darkened forest. The Slug Girl carries me into the cave and my eyes slowly adjust to the gloom. It is not massive, but not tiny. A narrow path opens onto a chamber about as big as a school classroom. Near the left wall is a pond, which my captress surely uses to keep hydrated. But hydration is not her current priority. She has other hunger in mind at the moment, and I am about to be her meal.
Sticky, slimy hands tear my clothing with surprising force. My shirt comes apart easily, though she struggles with my pants. Finally, frustrated, she throws me painfully on the ground and, to my horror, begins to scoot over me. Her heavy, slimy bulk settles on my torso, her head facing away from me. I groan loudly, uncomfortable under the weight and the feeling of this undulating bulk. From her new position, she is able to slide off my boots, socks, pants, and underwear, leaving me nude. Only then does she turn herself to face me properly, moving off of my body and pulling me up to eye level with her.
“P-please,” I beg, all pretenses of strength forgotten, “I’m a… I’m a virgin. I can’t do this with y-you–”
“Oh, a virgin boy!” she grins ecstatically. “A real treat for me tonight. Virgins always taste best.”
My scream is cut off by my Slug Girl lover pulling my face forward and covering my mouth in a relentless, sticky kiss from which I cannot escape. Her mouth and tongue taste sweet. I breathe through my nose, inhaling her scent, for my mouth is kept captive while my body is pressed against her. Her squishy membrane parts, shifting slightly to engulf my manhood and testicles. Her body tightens around my genitals. It feels warm inside her.
The Slug Girl begins to squeeze my penis with her body, letting folds of her bulk caress my shaft and balls. I groan into her mouth, which she perceives as an invitation to continue. Her body pulses faster, more intensely, for it is designed to work its victims to a climax so it can feed. And work me it does, squeezing and caressing, tightening around the tip and vibrating in such a way that I can’t resist. Against my will, my hips thrust forward, again and again, my shaft is squeezed within her, mercilessly milked for every drop of my seed.
“You ARE yummy!” she proclaims, at last freeing my mouth. “I can’t wait to do this to you all the time.”
“I… you… can’t… do…” I gasp incoherently, exhausted already and still regaining control of my mouth after that near-endless kiss.
“Not forever,” she admits, “probably for a few years, before I decide to find a new husband. Then I’ll just gobble you up and have done with you.”
“What?!” I exclaim. “No! No, you can’t!”
The Slug Girl presses her lips over mine again and this time I feel a peculiar, humming sensation. When she pulls away, a secretion of slime coats my lips and I find, to my horror, I cannot open my mouth. I have been, for the time being, silenced.
“You males and your mouths,” she laughs, “only good for one thing, but you always use them for complaining. Always begging and pleading, not realizing how lucky you are.”
I mumble an incoherent reply.
The Slug Girl moves me over to the far wall of the cave. She pulls her embrace tighter, her whole body humming against me. I think she’s about to rape me again, but instead, her slime coats me, dripping over me and encasing me from the neck down in a slug membrane cocoon, in which I cannot move. My tormentress lifts me up high off the ground and presses me against the wall. I stick firmly, several feet above the cave floor. She nods approvingly at her handy work, my nude body preserved like a prize inside the translucent casing.
“Goodnight, husband.” she bids me. “Tomorrow, we’ll have real fun. It’ll hurt a little, so get some rest.”
With those parting words, she slides her way to the pond to soak for the night. I am left suspended on the wall, my mouth sealed, trapped in a layer of disgusting slug ooze. And worst of all, I’ve been raped. By a monster girl. My virginity is gone, and I’m going to be eaten if I don’t escape. I can’t dwell on the psychological aspect of my predicament, I have to get out if I want to live! But even if I get out of this, how will I escape a world I don’t understand, a world that for all intents and purposes, should not exist.
Late in the night, or so I assume, my captress has gone to sleep. I am immobile, sticky, and humiliated at my nudity and predicament. In fear of what will befall me the following day, I try to wriggle free, but with no success. I try to open my mouth, but the membrane just stretches along with my parting lips. My tongue laps against it, and I taste its odd sweetness. But I also notice it dissolves from the touch of my saliva.
My heart leaps with excitement as I lick the impromptu gag away. Then begins the awkward task of trying to get at the rest of my slime prison. I lick away what I can, and it is enough to allow me some movement. I use that freedom to push at the wall and fall unceremoniously to the ground. The Slug Girl sleeps on whilst I lick away the rest of my prison, or the worst of it at least.
In a quiet haste, I put on my socks, underwear, pants, and boots. My shirt is ripped to shreds, but I can hardly care. I just want to get out. Stealthily as I can manage, I bolt from the cave, back out into the woods and the unknown.
The night air feels chilly on my bare torso. The air smells clean, like foliage and mist, but my recollection of the recent horror I only just avoided keeps me from loitering to enjoy the scenery. I still feel sticky and disgusted. A bath would be ideal, so I set off in what I think is a northward direction, in search of water.
I crash through undergrowth and bat aside branches in the darkness. The forest is just thick enough here to make my movement noisy. A downward slope with more dense vegetation at last leads me to the end of a small stream. Hastily, I strip down and wash my clothing free of slug ooze. Then, while I hang my garments on a tree, I bathe myself, always mindful of danger. In a world full of man-hungry monster girls, I can’t be too careful.
When I feel clean again, I emerge from the water and hastily put my pants back on. I miss my shirt, for I now am cold and exposed at night, and the feeling is not a comfortable one. All the same, I move away from the water, nestling between a few bushes to rest for the night. Hopefully the wildlife will pass me by on their way to drink from the spring. And with that thought, I at last sleep.
The sensation of being watched rouses me from my dreams and I leap upright to find I’m not alone amongst the bushes. A girl, or female figure, a bit taller than I am, stands a few paces away. But she is far from normal. Her body, with its alluring curves and large chest, is made entirely of a translucent green slime. A Slime Girl. I recognize them. They feed on semen, sweat, and saliva, and will either free a man when they’re done, digest him alive, or carry him away to mate with indefinitely.
“Hi, sleepy!” she giggles. “I came for water, but now I found food.”
“Please don’t eat me.” I politely implore. “I don’t want to die.”
The Slime thinks about this for a moment before she speaks again.
“Okay,” she agrees, “but you have to be a good boy for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Go to the riverbank and undress.” she explains. “I’ll take what I want from you, and then let you go.”
“You’re going to rape me?” I groan miserably.
“Men like sex.” she giggles happily. “So come on, stop teasing. Or I’ll eat you, very slowly.”
I have a feeling that, despite her bubbly voice, she’d gladly do it. I can do nothing to escape but cooperate. Grudgingly, I return to the riverbank and take my time getting out of my clothes, hoping to avoid this for as long as possible. The Slime Girl isn’t interested in waiting though.
As soon as I’m naked, she shoots a tentacle out and wraps it around me, drawing me close before tackling me to the ground with alarming force. She is on top of me immediately, yet also all around me, engulfing me in her slime whilst riding upon me. The slime feels cool on my manhood, and she manipulates her body to stimulate me quickly. My shaft comes alive inside her and she vibrates around it, squeezing it with all her might to ensure maximum pleasure.
I groan when she concentrates the vibrations on the head of my member, and that groan provides her with an opportunity. Her slimy mouth covers mine, enveloping it, and a tongue of green slime begins to explore literally every inch of my mouth, soaking up saliva and leaving a trail of slime in its wake. I gag as her tongue explores inside my mouth ceaselessly, lapping up all of my own saliva and replacing it with her slime, which tastes a lot like lime gelatine, oddly enough. The “kiss” goes on while she continues to rape me, squeezing my balls and shaft until I explode into her, my body quivering. For a panicky moment, while she soaks in my seed, the Slime Girl pulls me totally into her body and I gasp for air, struggling while my seed is leached out of me drop by drop and digested almost immediately.
Finally, when I think I’m going to pass out, she expels me from her body and parts her mouth from mine. I lie naked and absolutely dripping with green slime. It drips down my face, it’s caked in my hair, and my tongue and mouth are coated in it. The Slime Girl looks very proud of herself.
“See,” she proclaims, “I remembered not to eat you up! I’m nice.”
“Did you have to fill my mouth up like that?” I ask, spitting slime.
“You don’t like my taste?” she pouts, her lip quivering. “Y-you think I’m u-ugly and g-g-gross?!”
“No no,” I hastily amend, lest I anger her, “I just couldn’t breathe very well.”
“Oh, right!” she chirped, all sadness forgotten. “I killed a man that way once. I forget sometimes. Males are so breakable.”
“Yeah, right.” I awkwardly reply.
“You should get going,” she advises, “other monsters will come soon, and they’re not all nice.”
“Thank you.” I say. “Do I have time to bathe?”
With that, the Slime Girl hands me my clothes and urges me away the moment I’m dressed, despite how disgusting I now feel. So, coated in her slime, I trudge on northward, circling around the stream, and moving as cautiously as I can to avoid further monster girl attacks. Being dominated by monster women is not all it’s cracked up to be. It’s horrific, dehumanizing, and quite frankly, gross. I don’t know who gets off on being raped by a Slug Girl, or coated from head to toe in a Slime Girl’s slime, but I am not one of those people. A little light bondage with a hot goth chick is about my limit as far as weird stuff goes.
As the sun moves, I realize I’ve been going east, not north. It really doesn’t matter, but I prefer north, so I move to alter my direction. The forest has grown more dense now, the trees are taller, and it is considerably darker, even when the sun reaches its zenith. The undergrowth is thinner now, but the treetops are far thicker and more like a ceiling of vines and broad leaves. My feet are tired from walking, and stumbling, through the forest, so I decide to take a rest. I plop down between two trees, having little better place to rest.
As I’d walked, I’d snatched up a handful of nuts I’d seen a few squirrels eating. They shouldn’t be poisonous, unless it’s a very selective poison. But I take my chances and break open a few nuts with a small rock. The meat is soft and chewy, and has a not-unpleasant earthy taste, with a strange hint of coconut. Encouraged by the fact that I’ve not yet died from eating them, I scoop up more of the plentiful nuts and make a full lunch of them. The time spent eating is relaxing and the meal is filling enough to satisfy me.
But I’m so satisfied, so comfortable with my little lunch, that I don’t register the sounds of approach until it’s far too late. It sounds at first like tree branches simply swaying of their own accord, but the pattern is too rhythmic, too precisely directed. And then comes the sound, piercing and alarming in the relative quiet of nature. A war-whoop from above that shatters the sounds of birds calling and leaves rustling. A female war-cry.
“Ayayayayayay-#aaaaah!” shrieks the intruder and I spring to my feet to flee.
This action on my part, it turns out, is a grievous mistake. A monster girl with blue skin and pointed ears is swinging through the trees, hand over hand. A Crystal Elf, if I recall correctly. She is lithely built, athletic and muscular but agile as well. And she is twelve feet tall. The elf continues her war-whoop as she swings toward me, hand over hand, vine to vine, letting momentum carry her across gaps in the canopy of branches. Had I stayed seated or thrown myself to the ground, she’d have passed over me and given me a chance to run before she attacked again.
But because I stood, the Crystal Elf, clad only in a loincloth and a bikini-like top made of large, interwoven leaves, is able to lower down slightly mid-swing, wrap her inhumanly long legs around my head, and sweep me off my feet. My hands dart up and grasp her smooth thighs to give me support, lest being so suddenly jerked up into the treetops by my neck cause any permanent damage. My face is pressed into her loincloth, so my scream is muffled. Though her victorious war cry would surely have drowned out my pleas for help anyway, as I’m spirited away to her home and whatever fate awaits me.
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