[rick powers]

Slave Girls From the Planet Nurtz

by Rick Powers

***
(Okay, mostly by Rick Powers)

This story was inspired (no, that doesn’t mean ‘ripped-off’) by a short story I read a dozen years ago that was in a compilation of female centered science fiction. I wish I could remember the name of the story or the name of the author, but I can’t! So suffice it to say that some of the elements in this story may have been inadvertently  ‘borrowed’ from the above mentioned work of literature as a starting point for my own science fictional musings (which, as you probably already know, dear reader, tend toward the female muscle growth genre of scientifically fiction). And if the author is ever found and she (I’m pretty sure it was written by a woman) is ticked off that I didn’t give her credit for those plot elements that I may have ‘borrowed,’ then she, or her agent, can contact me and I will right whatever wrong I have done. In the meantime, try and enjoy the tale such as it is.

Thank you.

***

The woman peered through her computerized binoculars at the scene unfolding further down in the valley. The range finder in the binoculars indicated that they were about two miles away. And closing fast.

The young woman dressed in a brown jumpsuit and boots blended in so well with the semi-arid surroundings that she was all but invisible as she kept her binoculars focused below her vantage point. Even her short, sandy blond hair seemed to melt into the background. She always tried to be as invisible as possible. But that option was quickly disappearing. “Damn!” she swore quietly to herself, “Why did they have to pick this valley to have their fight in?”

She watched intently as a skimmer darted back and forth, hand held weapons inside the craft firing at something or someone on the ground. A skimmer can’t hover well, unless you’re a very skilled pilot, which these guys obviously weren’t. So they had to keep passing over their target and then turn around for another run.

The target wasn’t sitting still though. It seemed to be heading in her direction. And it was returning fire. So much for the theory that they were just a couple of drunk Turgentoi using the local rodents for target practice. She hated the Turgentoi almost as much as the Obernorcans, the rulers of this god forsaken planet they called Nurtz. Whoever those bastard Turgentoi were shooting at, she swore she would aid them as best she could.

She watched as the target suddenly burst through the undergrowth and trip into an open space. It was another Turgentoi and judging by the black fluid covering his lower leg, he had already been hit by his fellow Turgs, as she called them.

The skimmer came flying in low to finish off the wounded soldier. But he spun at the last second and fired steady and true at the ship. He must have hit a thruster and maybe a gyro, the girl thought, because the craft went spinning out of control down the valley. She followed it’s progress as far as she could until she lost sight of it banking wildly into a grove of trees.

The wounded soldier tried to get back on his feet but he had been weakened by the loss of body fluid. Yet he stumbled and crawled in the opposite direction that he had sent the skimmer. Apparently, he knew that the crew on that skimmer would be really, really mad now and would waste no time coming back this way to find him.

The girl was stuck. Why did it have to be a damn Turg, she cursed to herself. She had promised herself that she would help whoever was the target and she never went back on a promise. But on the other hand, if she helped the bleeding Turg, he would find out about her home.

It wasn’t much of a home, but when you’re 23 years old, running for your life on a planet two million light years away from home, it was the most wonderful thing she had seen in a long time. What it really was was an old dilapidated cruiser class starship. While in captivity she had learned to distinguish different kinds of space faring ships. This one had some kind of problem and was abandoned in this desolate valley. It was like someone back on earth had bought an expensive RV back in the 80’s and just abandoned it when it got a flat tire. But that was sort of like how this planet seemed to operate. Conspicuous consumption was everywhere. Including the slave girls.

***
(Years ago …)
Her name used to be Taylor Grey. A typical 11th grade student at Red Rocks High in Arizona. Until the day they came. Everyone used to joke about Area 51 and UFO’s. No one took it seriously, even though some of the folks in the desert had some great stories to tell.

That all changed when the Turgentoi showed up one day during lunch and began grabbing some of the students. Correction, they were just grabbing girls. Any girl they could get their hands on. Yeah, they had hands. And they were about seven feet tall and three and a half feet across with skin that looked like living rocks. They weren’t very fast, but they sure were strong. They easily picked up cars and busted down doors pursuing the girls. Then, once they had one, they would carry her off to a small flying craft and return to the ‘mother’ ship.

Some of the girls were too fast for the attackers and got away. Taylor, a very athletic girl, almost escaped. But she looked back at the wrong time. Her friend Marissa had been captured and Taylor knew she had to try to help. She ran up behind the monster and slammed into his back as hard as she could. She just bounced off with the Turgentoi hardly even noticing her. That’s when another of the Turgentoi caught her.

In all, they captured eight girls in a little over ten minutes. Ten minutes of hellish confusion. Afterwards, no one was quite sure what had happened and couldn’t agree on whether or not it was an actual alien invasion. It was in the news for a while. Until the government squelched the story. They didn’t want a panic on their hands. And, after all, it was only eight girls.

But if someone had been checking, girls were disappearing from other parts of the globe. Always in small towns. An uproar and confusion would ensue and then eventually die down. All in all, they took over 100 girls of various nationalities.

On board the mother ship, the girls were placed in cells with girls from other countries. At first, this limited communication. But most of the girls quickly learned each other’s languages enough to get basic points across. One thing that no one knew was ‘why.’ Why had they been abducted? Were these monsters going to run experiments on them? It didn’t take long for the girls to realize that their captors were not extremely intelligent, so that ruled out the experiment thing. It seemed at most that they were just mercenaries working for someone else.

***

Taylor watched silently as the wounded mercenary stumbled past a rock outcropping and paused to catch his breath. He tried to stop the bleeding from his leg by applying pressure. He winced in pain as he checked the energy level on his blaster. Then he pushed himself up to his feet.

The Turg managed only a couple of steps before he sank to his knees. and then propped himself on his hands. It looked to Taylor that he was about to pass out. She looked down the gully and saw some of taller clumps of grass being chopped down as the search party slowly picked it way toward their location. If she was going to help this hated enemy, it would have to be now.

Taylor quickly and quietly climbed down from her hiding place and gracefully picked her way across several mounds of rocks. Her movements were still agile and athletic, even though her jumpsuit was  bit restricting, especially across her chest.

She reached the nearly unconscious soldier within seconds and tried to rouse him to his feet. Her only hope of escape now was to get him to stumble forward with her help. Safety wasn’t very far away, but she would never be able to carry his tremendous bulk for even a few steps. He was still conscious enough to push himself forward with the small girl’s help. If he was surprised to see an Terran out this far from civilization, he never let on, just gladly accepting her assistance.

Taylor led the tall soldier to a level stretch that was overgrown with bushes taller than the Turgentoi. With practiced steps, she maneuvered her charge through what seemed to be an invisible maze. These bushes grew in loose sand, somewhat akin to quicksand back on Earth. But whereas the quicksand on Earth was actually more like ‘slow sand’ in that it took a long time to be sucked under, this really was ‘quick’ sand. One false step and both of them would be buried in the sand in a matter of seconds. Taylor had discovered through days of trial and error, the only route through the area that kept the two on solid ground.

What had inspired her desire to find the safe path was the abandoned cruiser. She had caught sight of it from high up the valley wall. But the only way to access it was through the quicksand meadow. Taylor guessed that the occupants of the cruiser were probably not as patient as she was and more than likely, they lay buried beneath her feet.

When she finally did reach the ship she found that it was in nearly new condition. It just couldn’t fly. Still there was plenty of energy left to run life support and computers. There was even a small, fully functioning medi-lab on board. What food Taylor couldn’t supply by hunting, she could have the food replicator produce for her. She had to admit that she rather liked hunting and was getting pretty good at it. And she was using the ship’s computers to find out more about her surroundings and just where in the hell in the cosmos she was and how could she get home. And what had happened to Marissa and her other friends. She hadn’t seen them since the day of the slave auction…

*****
(Another flashback…)
It had become evident to the young captives, as they sped through outer space, that they were being prepared for some purpose. In the first few days of the journey, they were taken one by one to an examination room. Their clothes were removed and destroyed. They were forcibly restrained while a ship’s doctor did some prodding and poking and measuring. Then they placed a thick band around their necks and gave each girl a injection of something and a crude dress to wear.

The girls were all given food and liquids, some free time in a large room, and some time for exercise. Some of the girls even started picking up the Turgentoi language. Taylor was one of those girls. She had always been good with foreign languages and from the beginning had tried to decipher patterns in their speech.

The other thing that became quickly obvious was that they were all growing. Whether it was the shot they had been given, or maybe the stuff they were being fed, or maybe it was from being out in space, but whatever it was, it was causing a growth spurt in every one of the girls. And not in a vertical direction.

Their breasts were expanding at an amazing rate. If they had been wearing bras, they would have gone through all of the cup sizes normally found in department stores in the first few months they were on board the ship. As it turned out, they didn’t need bras. Their new bosoms were amazingly firm and, unfortunately for the poor captives, excruciatingly sensitive. And they continued growing for the rest of the yearlong journey. By the time they had reached the planet, each girl was sporting a huge rack that was stretching her clothes to the limit. They all looked like they had just stepped out of a kind of Russ Meyer-sci-fi movie.

Taylor later found out the reason for the oversized mams. The girls were being brought to Nurtz for their milk. No one that Taylor met on the planet seemed to know why, but many years before, mother’s milk from humans had become the most sought after of delicacies. Probably some space cowboy happened upon a lactating human female one night and couldn’t stop raving about how good it tasted. And like all fads, it really didn’t matter if it tasted like mud or nectar of the gods, everyone was convinced that this was the thing to have.

And so, an entire industry centered on human mother’s milk was born. The Turgentoi were paid handsomely for the shipments of human girls. Some enterprising scientists developed ways of getting the most milk possible from each girl. Floating platforms had been specially designed to help support the girls’ engorged boobs so they could move more easily. Security systems were created to protect the Obernorcans’ investments, including shock collars that insured cooperation on the slaves’ part. They had even established runaway slave hotlines. Billions of credits were spent on the business each year.

Milk tasting parties were common among the richest members of society and a person’s status could be measured in how many ‘expressives’ they owned. Because of the chemicals given to the girls, they were only able to give a steady supply of milk for two or three years. A rare few were able to give milk for four years. During that time, they were treated as prized possessions, the only thing expected of them was to fill the Obernorcans glasses with their lactations.

But after those years, the flow of milk quickly subsided. The women were no longer needed. Being stuck on a far away planet, they were left with no way to survive except to take on menial jobs. Most of the women ended up becoming housemaids for their owners.

The one good thing that happened for the girls was the size of their huge boobs would decrease considerably once they dried up. Even so, they were left with tits nearly twice as large as they would have naturally grown. This led inevitably to severe back strain. Most of the girls were nearly crippled by their mid-thirties with only a few more years of life left.

Taylor had kept her jugs longer than most, hating the fact that she was looked on as something of a cow, but appreciative that her owner took good care of her. Even while in her lactating stage, she tried to keep her body in fairly trim shape. She had seen what the tremendous weight of those oversized mammaries would do to a person’s body, and she was determined to not give in to that sorry fate. She was also determined to escape her bondage as quickly as she could.

One night, after her owner and his wife had drank themselves into a milk sotted stupor, Taylor made her move. She unhooked herself from her support and slowly, painfully dragged the bloated bodies of her owners to separate sides of the room. Then she tied their feet to the heaviest objects she could find. She knew that the average Obernorcan was so fat that they couldn’t do even one sit up. At best, they might be able to roll slightly side to side. But these two would never be able to reach their ankles to untie themselves. Taylor figured rightly that they would eventually be found and rescued, but by then she would be on the other side of the planet. She found the keys to their skimmer and slipped away into the night.

Well, ‘slipped away’ wasn’t exactly accurate. ‘Slipped away’ gives the feeling of stealth. With her massive boobs to haul along, it was all she could do to get out of the house without slamming into too many walls and doors. And driving the skimmer was another adventure that she hadn’t planned for. But Taylor was resourceful, and soon she was lost in one of the vast remote areas in the interior of the largest continent on Nurtz.

With her food and water running low, Taylor was getting desperate for some place to hide out and get the slave collar off. She lived in constant fear that someone would recognize her, use the collar to incapacitate her, and send her back to her owners. That was when she happened upon her secret valley. She had lived alone here for the last two years, and was glad for it. The vegetation had grown a lot since she had found the cruiser and now all but covered it, shielding it from view of the few beings that passed by. And without the constant demand for more milk, her breasts begn to shrink back to a more normal EE size which made wearing a jumpsuit  almost comfortable. Almost.

***
(Okay, back to the present … keep up with the group … don’t dawdle …)

Taylor half-carried, half-led the wounded Turg up to the hatch of the cruiser. The giant looked up at the crippled space ship but didn’t say anything. He instinctively pulled his blaster from its holster, but then a wave of nausea and fatigue from the loss of blood swept over him. He dropped the weapon from his grasp and leaned even more heavily on Taylor.

Somehow, she managed to get the Turg mercenary aboard the ship and into a bed in the mini-infirmary. She cut the leg off of his uniform to expose the wound. A good bit of his thigh had been blown off by his pursuer’s blaster. Taylor activated the robo-med unit and stepped up to talk to him face to face.

The woman studied the face of the mercenary. All of the Turgs looked similar, she thought, like some sort of clone from that comic book character whose skin was made out of orange rocks. A thick ledge of bone formed a hairless eyebrow, their lower jaw extended past the upper lip. And their noses seemed like a pile of lined flesh protruding between their beady eyes. But all she had to do was glance back at the wounded leg to realize that although their skin seemed to be rock hard, it was much more vulnerable, at least to a blaster. “What’s your name, soldier?” she inquired.

The huge man tried hard to focus his eyes on the person who had just spoken to him in his native tongue. “Te … Te’Durghyen,” he was finally able to respond. Then, “But who …you are … a Terran … a slave, “ he said, noticing her collar. “How do you … know my language?”

“Relax, Te’D, we can talk later. I’ve set you up with the robo-doc. You took a nasty shot, we’ll have to hope that the unit can help you. Right now, you just need to relax.”

Already the sedative that the robotic med unit had given Te’D was having its effect. The Turgentoi calmly closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. Taylor stumbled toward the hatch. She thought she should retrieve the blaster that Te’D had dropped in case any of the other Turgs found their way to the ship. She had fashioned a bow and some arrows for hunting, but they wouldn’t do much against armed soldiers. She looked out cautiously and then crept out to get the gun.

Off in the distance she could hear the other Turgs yelling directions at each other. The yelling increased in intensity followed by blaster fire and more yelling. Then silence. Turgs were a hot headed bunch, and Taylor guessed that they had had a falling out among the party and were turning back, leaving their fellow soldier for dead.

Taylor closed and sealed the hatch and then made her way to her own quarters. She dropped the blaster on a round table in her living room and then collapsed on her bed, to tired to even think about eating. She would deal with her guest in the morning. If the robo-med unit could pull him through.

But the automated medical unit was far more advanced than Taylor knew. The manufacturer had installed all of the latest equipment in this model, even though they had slipped a low cost, outdated propulsion generator in to keep the selling price down. This med unit had stopped the bleeding while analyzing the DNA structure of the patient. It then prepared a huge army of nanobots to rebuild the wounded area back to recorded specifications.

In the span of just a few hours, the nanobots repaired the injured leg back to perfect health. By the time morning had arrived in the canyon, Te’D was completely healed. He woke up slowly as the sedative wore off, barely opening his eyes as he scanned his surroundings. He was trying to piece together the events of the last day and how he had wound up here. And just where was here?

Te’D recognized that he was in a small medical facility which brought back memories of having his leg shot and nearly blacking out from loss of blood. Gingerly, he moved his hand up to his right leg and checked for signs of medical care. He felt past the ripped uniform and touched his skin where he was sure that he had been hit. To his surprise it felt perfect.

Te’D opened his eyes further and lifted his head. He was alone. He remembered a woman. A Terran slave. Had she brought him here? He sat up slowly, still feeling the residual effects of the sedative. He swung his legs off of the med-bed and inspected his exposed skin. There was not even a blemish where he had been hit. The med unit had done an outstanding job repairing his leg. He ran his thick hand over his leg in amazement.

“Good morning, Sparky.”

Te’D started at the sound of Taylor’s voice. He spun around to see her standing in the doorway of the med lab. She was wearing the same brown jumpsuit as before. However, today she was sporting a blaster that was pointed at the Turgentoi.

If Te’D was surprised that the woman was pointing a weapon at him, he didn’t show it. He merely cocked his head and repeated, “Sparky? No, my name is …”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Taylor cut in, “your name is Te’Durghyen.”  They stared at each other silently for a minute.

“And what is your name?”

She thought about whether or not she should disclose her name. “Taylor.”

“You saved my life, Ta’Lor?”

“Yeah, looks like it.”

“Why?”

Taylor stared at him for a moment, “I don’t know, I guess I always try my best to help others, especially if they’re in trouble.”

The massive Turg looked to be searching for the right words to say, “It is not customary for a Turgentoi to express … gratitude … but I am grateful for you.”

Taylor had to think about it, but he was right. She had never learned the word for ‘thanks’ in the Turgentoi language. Perhaps they didn’t have one.

“Yeah well,” she switched to English, realizing that there were no equivalent words in Turgentoi, “you’re welcome.” Then, back in her guest’s native tongue, she continued, “The big question is, what am I going to do with you?”

The big creature stood slowly to his full height and stretched, brushing his hands across the ceiling while he popped his back, “Well, you could give me my blaster back and I’ll head back to my barracks.” He still seemed to have no fear of being shot by the slight Terran.

“You would go back? Weren’t they trying to kill you yesterday?”

The Turg smiled, “Well, that was yesterday. I’m sure that they’re not mad at me anymore.”

“What did you do to make them come after you like that?” Taylor asked, keeping her weapon trained on his chest, but feeling like it didn’t give her much of an advantage.

“I committed an act of ‘bedrragge’ against my superior.” Te’D replied, almost embarrassed to admit it.

“Bedrragge?”

“It is an act of ultimate insult for a soldier,” Te’D continued. “It is done by taking the top layer of bedding and folding it in such a way as to look like the bedding is normal. But when the object of the insult tries to retire, he can only push his legs halfway down the bed.”

Taylor stood in stunned silence. Then she broke out in a hearty laugh. It felt so good. She hadn’t found anything so funny in all of her years on this planet. “You …” she howled, “… you ‘short-sheeted’ your commanding officer?”

Te’D’s rocky face grew stern. “Do not mock me, Ta’Lor. I am embarrassed enough by my rash actions.”

Taylor stifled her last few laughs, “I’m sorry Te’D. It’s just that where I come from, that’s the sort of practical joke that kids pull at summer camp.”

“Well, you must come from a very cynical world if children go around insulting each other like that,” Te’D shot back.

It struck Taylor that perhaps the big guy was right, but it still didn’t solve her dilemma. “Hey, by the way, you look pretty strong. Any chance you could break this collar? I haven’t found anything on this ship that can affect this metal, short of killing me.”

Te’D looked at the slave collar. “I am sorry Ta’Lor. I would certainly free you from that collar if I could in gratitude for saving me. I have never seen anyone capable of rending a slave collar. As far as I know, they only way to remove it is with the key that is given to the owners when the slave is purchased. However, in case we ever run across an escaped slave, all Turgentoi are given an activator control …” Te’D reached for something on his belt.

Taylor panicked, thinking that he was going to incapacitate her and she prepared to fire the blaster. But Te’D couldn’t find the device. He realized that he must have lost the activator in his battle. He spun around searching for it to no avail.

“You bastard,” Taylor spat, “I saved your worthless life and you were going to try to zap me and send me back? Why? So you could collect some fat reward?” The blaster hummed to life.

Te’D continued his movements and before Taylor could react he had grabbed her hand with the blaster in it. He jerked it upward, dislocating her shoulder and then slammed her into the wall. He bore down on her wrist until some of her bones cracked and she released the weapon.

“I was not going to use the activator, Ta’Lor,” he hissed into her face. “I had heard that a key might be made from one if someone had enough technology and time to modify it.”

Taylor was fighting back the tears. Her shoulder was on fire and she couldn’t feel her hand anymore. The powerful soldier was nearly crushing the breath out of her.

“I was going to give you the activator in gratitude for saving me, but then you try to shoot me. So I will not show you gratitude, Ta’Lor. I will just take my gun and go.”

Te’D was about to leave the wounded girl when he looked down at her jumpsuit. In the struggle, the front of her suit had opened significantly, exposing a generous amount of her abundant breasts. Te’D had always been curious about what the Obernorcans had valued about the human’s milk, but he had never tried it himself. Actually, he had never had enough credits to buy any and besides, there were some vague warnings from the officers in basic training to stay away from it, along with a whole host of other diseases that could be contracted from various species in the universe.

Te’D gave in to his curiosity. Still holding the girls arm outstretched, he ripped open the front of her jumpsuit. Taylor’s still fairly large boobs spilled forth. Te’D roughly cupped one of her breasts and bent down to suck her nipple as he had seen the Obernorcans do.

Taylor, in the midst of her pain, could not believe what this stupid Turg was doing. She hadn’t been milked for nearly two years and was probably totally dry by now. Was he going to rape her as well? In her fear, she realized that she didn’t even know how Turg’s reproduce. Just in case they did it like humans do, she brought her knee up to where she hoped his groin was with all the strength she could muster. All she got for her effort was a bruised knee.

And then, a strange thing happened. From somewhere in her boob, Taylor’s milk making machine clicked in one more time. As Te’D continue to suck, a tiny amount of milk made it’s way through the ducts in her breast and found it’s way into the Turg’s mouth. It wasn’t much. But it was enough.

Te’D pulled his head back and savored the taste of the milk on his tongue. It wasn’t bad, he thought to himself, but it wasn’t like the mead they make on …

Te’D froze. The effect that Taylor’s milk had on his physiology was almost instantaneous. If Te’D had paid attention as a young recruit, he would have learned that the chemicals that are given to the Terran girls have a profound effect on Turgentoi. It acts as a powerful stimulant when taken orally. Since Turgentoi males have their primary sex organs located under the tongue, this is to be avoided at all times.

Te’D’s stimulated tongue became engorged with blood and began to extend from his mouth. Beyond the control of rational thought at this time, the Turgentoi’s natural instinct is to mate. That is done by shoving the engorged tongue into the mouth of a equally excited female. The male then ejaculates his sperm from a gland on the underside of his tongue into the female’s mouth where it enters her reproductive glands. The whole process takes mere seconds.

Which was all the time that Taylor had to react to a sudden thrust of Te’D’s strong tongue and the unexpected surge of a foul tasting goo in her mouth.

As if waking from a trance, Te’D released his grip on the girl’s wrist and stumbled back a step. Taylor, gasping for air while gagging from the thick jism, collapsed to the floor. Te’D blinked, trying to clear his mind, then located the blaster on the floor. He retrieved his weapon, then stumbled to the door of the medi-lab. Still woozy from what, for a Turgentoi at least , was an intense sexual encounter, he made his way through the ship and opened the hatch. The hot air from outside finally brought him back to his senses. He vaguely remembered being helped through the maze of the quicksand meadow and tried to replicate the path that Taylor had taken the night before. Finally he made it out and headed in the direction of his camp.

Meanwhile, Taylor was just about retching from the combination of pain and foreign matter in her throat and stomach. She lay on the floor of the medi-lab for almost an hour, in too much pain to move. But her indomitable will had kept her alive so far and she wasn’t about to give up now. The damn Turg had roughed her up, taken the blaster, and was probably headed back to report her position. Her only chance was to get mobile as quickly as possible. Slowly she pushed her shoulder back into its socket with her good hand. But then pain shot through her rib cage. Te’D must have broken a rib or two when he shoved me against the wall, she surmised. She realized that she was in no condition to make a run for it. Then she remembered the robo-med.

Slowly, painfully, Taylor crawled across the floor of the lab. Using her one good hand, she propped herself up until she could slump onto the bed. Her ribs were throbbing in pain, but she forced herself to roll onto her back. Next she had to stretch her hand as far as she could to activate the robo-med.

“Med-Tronique 5000. How can I assist you?” the mechanical voice responded.

Luckily the unit was voice activated, more than likely because the average Obernorcan was fairly ignorant of technology. “Doc … “ Taylor whispered through her stabbing pain, “ … make me better…”

[CGMann]

Great start!  I love it!

[astrosmurf]

Looks very promising.  Can't wait to see where you take it!

[Cowprobe]

Congratulations to your fine efforts from the salvaging of the concepts now shrouded in the mists of half remembered elements.

If the original writer gets a chance to see this I hope they'd be flattered.

Feels like an E. E. Smith pulp style. I love the cultural and species disconnect. The entire idea of mam-napping lasses for lactation in far off locales is crazy enough to find a home in Metal Hurlant.

Read this story immediately after looking at some DC animation materials so now there's a Ben Ten/ Bruce Timm vibe to the whole thing that gels in my mind's eye.

You keep wiriting and I'll keep reading!

[KeithXZ]

Rick –

This is a really good start!  I'm looking forward to reading more.

– Keith

[g-man]

Awesome, looking forward to the next chapter 🙂

[rick powers]

Thanks for all the nice words. I'm glad lots of folks are taking the time to read the story.

Part 2 should be ready to go in a day or two. Should I post it as a reply in this topic or start a new post?

When I posted the Ultimate Black Cat story, I used a different post for each part. But then I see some authors keep making the original post longer and ponger. Is it hard to keep track of it like that?

Suggestions are always welcome.

(Mam-napping for lactation in far off locales, Cowprobe? I love it!!)

-Rick

[blah8884]

An excellent start Rick Powers 🙂

personally though, I like to see a continuation in a new topic, so I don't get my hopes dashed when the author replies in his own thread… haha…

but in any case, I think the best way is for the person (you in this case) to decide which is easier.

[astrosmurf]

It's a toss-up.  Keeping it all in one thread makes it easier to track, but more annoying to flip through and find where the story posts are between all the other comments.  On the other hand, posting in several threads can make it harder to track down all parts of the story once a bit of time has passed.

I suggest posting each part in its own thread, and then archiving the story over at Brawna.org.  That would solve both problems.

I look forward to reading the next chapter!

[Cowprobe]

Not going to nit-pick any story elements but an unforeseen consequence of your entirely innocent typo might be that Taylor could have some augmented mud-wrestling action against a differently modified kidnapped subject of the Obernorcans strange appetites.

In this case a limber lass whose powerfully delicate frame has had its motive sinew engorged to better apply masseuse care to the bloated conquerers of Nurtz; a SALVE girl as it were.  😉

Bonus cookies if she's an alien and has a second set of arms. -Cue Star Trek classic death match trumpet score "3 gallons on the newcomer!"

Also it would be very cool if you numbered each subsequent chapter thread in it's title to make following each through the forums easier.

A recap of the location of the chapters previous with an easy to click link would be above and beyond while gathering new readers from ease of navigation.

[Author]

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