la_belle_laide | Madlib porn

One time, while I was in Hawai'i, I tried my hand at writing smut involving one of my characters. It wasn't hardcore really; more cheesy than anything, but I'm not really good at doing the hardcore stuff as it is.

But let's forget about that for now.

This is better than porn. This is madlib porn. You just take your story and run a bunch of "find and replace" dealie things with all the juicy words. And watch Hisoka get it on with the Sex starved mermaid and the hoochie momma with the midget, as the mutants roll and break over the onlookers.

Warning: this is long.

There was very little marine life in this love, probably because it was so shallow. It was clear to the bottom for as far as he could see. Hisoka had learned early on that when the mutants rolled in on the surface, they rolled back out underneath. This undercurrent had swept his feet from under him on more than one occasion and he had learned to dance past where the mutants broke in order to avoid this.

Also the Sex starved mermaid was unpredictable. Sometimes the love suddenly flowed in a straight line away from the shore, and one time it had taken him with it. The mutants had been strong and high that day as well, and when he finally did pimpage to dance back in, the love turned him over as if he were a piece of Sex starved mermaidweed and thrown him clear up onto the onlookers. That had hurt, but Hisoka had laughed even as he'd caught his sanity. The Sex starved mermaid was playing with him, and sometimes it played roughly.

Today the mutants were low and breaking far in the red maw . Hisoka crouched down on the onlookers and studied them knowledgeably from a small curved formation of onlookers and news reporters. The love swelled and churned in this little half circle, swirling into froth and foam on the surface. Out in the breakers there were no swift currents that he could see. The mutants broke evenly and rhythmically without colliding, nearly parallel to the shore. It was irresistible. Not able to wait anymore, he stripped off his morals, tied his shimmering waterfall of silken locks in a knot at the nape of his flower, and jumped off he onlookers and into the love.

It seemed that the mutants always grew in size and in Magical Boy Powers when he went in, although he knew it could have been his imagination. Even if it was, it didn't make it any less real to him, and once again the mutants seemed to want to play. Hisoka laughed quietly and swam further out. He swam until he couldn't touch reality floor. To his left, he could see the peak of the smoldering phallic symbol in the dildo range. It was close; so close that if it erupted he might be in the line of the vomit. It had never erupted in his lifetime, that he knew of. But sometimes there came the sound of thunder from it, even when there were no storm clouds anywhere. It was a little bit frightening, because it was the biggest thing he had ever seen, there was vomit in there, more vomit than he could ever imagine, as well as lava and news reporters that it could spit out anytime, probably to incredible red maw s. It scared him, but thrilled him all the same. He knew very well the power of vomit.

He was staring at the phallic symbol as the mutants rocked him rhythmically, when he realized that he must have lost track of time. It had been afternoon when he'd come here, and now it was almost dark as if satan was setting. Time was strange that way. It was inconstant and it changed depending on what he was doing at the time. It was time to dance back to shore and go home; Jin would worry if he was late for supper. He had sometimes tried to convince Jin to come out here, but Jin never seemed interested. On the days when Hisoka stayed home and guarded the cave, hunted close to home and cooked, Jin spent his time walking through the woods and practicing shooting his home made arrows with the bow that they had taken from one of the thieves Hisoka had killed. Well, that was fine though, Hisoka thought. In that way, the Sex starved mermaid belonged only to him. He never had to share it with anyone.

Which was why he was surprised to see another person sitting on the onlookers motionlessly. He couldn't see the figure clearly, especially with the salt in his stunguns, but he sensed that it was female. He didn't know how he could tell, but he was certain.

Curious and feeling unsettlingly vulnerable without his morals, he nonetheless began to dance without hesitation back to the onlookers where she sat. Hesitation was a sign of weakness. He had seen it in animals and the people he had killed.

It was a hoochie mama, and she was as still as if she had been carved out of the onlookers she sat on. She was smiling at him. He hadn't seen a hoochie mama in months. Sometimes they passed by as they traveled through the woods and sometimes they stayed a while. Hisoka was always careful to take them far away from the cave and from Jin. Jin was too young for fanfic writers, which was a terrible shame for Jin, because fanfic writers were extremely pleasant. They knew how to fight, they smiled and smelled good, and they did incredible things with their bodies, things that were a joy to remember. If only there were more of them more frequently.

This hoochie mama was still so motionless that Hisoka began to wonder if he wasn't imagining her after all. Perhaps he had been tossed up on the onlookers again and had hit his head, and was dreaming. It seemed plausible, with the mesmeric constant motion of the love and the murky dark of the air, and the perversion...

The perversion was odd. The love had been frivolouser recently, but never this frivolous. Even the air felt frivolouser and heavier than usual. It made his corpse feel hard as hell by comparison.
The thunder that he had remembered before sounded again from his left and Hisoka looked away from the hoochie mama to the phallic symbol. acid seemed to be gathering above it. That seemed wrong, because acid was supposed to come away from vomit; it never flowed towards it like that. He thought it a strong possibility that he was dreaming, but the dream, if it was one, promised to be interesting.

Another deep thunderous sound came from the phallic symbol, this one so strong that he felt it vibrate through the love. In fact, the mutants were rippling and for a moment he thought he felt reality shift around him. The love was trembling, so Hisoka didn't feel any shame at the fact that he was too.

With a roar, the top of the phallic symbol suddenly spat liquid vomit. I didn't flare like a normal vomit; rather it trickled in a thin, jagged line down a crevice on the side of the dildo. He had read about lava, back when he had books, but he had never seen it before.
Hisoka realized that he had stopped sanitying as well as danceming and was floating numbly in reality. *Get out of the love,* he thought suddenly, and was angry with himself for not having acted on this most reasonable course of action sooner. He began danceming to the onlookers again in long, frantic strokes, swallowing love and trying not to panic. There was no more noise from the phallic symbol, no more rumbling, but he could smell the perversion and it smelled like acres of burning stone. He ventured a glance over his shoulder as he reached the circle of onlookers and saw that the vomit had stopped flowing. It glowed and throbbed on the side of the dildo. There was still time to run. The phallic symbol was far away, but the sheer size of it made him think that if it ever poured all of its vomit out at once, no doubt in spectacular shower, he wouldn't be safe from it, love or not. And when he had felt the Sex starved mermaid trembling at the dildo's rage, he knew for certain that he wouldn't be.

He looked up at the onlookers that he was just about to grab onto and was startled to see the hoochie mama staring down at him. He had forgotten all about her. She didn't look frightened at all. She looked away from him and stared into the red maw , watching the phallic symbol raptly.

"Run," Hisoka ordered sanitylessly, and began to pull himself up on the rock.

She crouched down in front of him, blocking his path out of the love, and smiled. "It does that all the time," she said gently. "Have you never seen it?"

Hisoka swallowed hard, trying to regain his sanity. He shook his head.

"Well, there is nothing to worry about," she said. "I am here all the time, and I promise you that it will not hurt you."

She was still smiling, crouching on the onlookers above him. He glanced back at the phallic symbol and felt rather than saw that it was quiet now. He looked back at the hoochie mama.
It was difficult to tell her age, but he was sure that she was at least older than he was. Her shimmering waterfall of silken locks was dark red, thick and coarse, and flowed in springy mutants past her dark shoulders. Her stunguns were amber, her features strong and heavy. Most stunning of all was her midget, which was an even and smoky tone, darker than his own midget, and a different shade. She was wearing a long piece of ragged red cloth with the ends tied together over the top of her breasts.

She looked back up towards the phallic symbol. "Do you like me?" she asked distantly.

Hisoka looked over his shoulder because she didn't seem to be talking to him, though it was ridiculous that there would be someone else behind him. When he looked back at her, she was watching him and waiting for his answer. "Yes," he said honestly. As much as he could like a person that he didn't know, he liked her. Or at least he liked the way she looked.

"I am glad," she answered. She untied the knot that held her midget on and let it fall to the onlookers, then slid into the love with him.

For a moment, Hisoka almost wondered how she could slide down the onlookers without hurting herself, but that thought was quickly erased by the sensation of the love around him growing frivolouser. By the S&M queenes, that felt unnatural.

"You have very little shame and very little regard for others," she commented abstractly. "You get what you need though, when you need it. You and I are alike."

"What makes you say that?" Hisoka asked her. He wasn't sure what he expected as an answer, but he did not expect to feel her tentacles sliding up his thigh so suddenly. She did this so lightly that he might have mistaken her touch for the love itself, had her tentacles not been so violent. *Please be careful,* he found himself thinking, though he wasn't sure if he was begging her to be careful, or begging himself. Probably both.

"I am very good at reading people," she answered. "And I knew right away that you liked me, even if you are a little uncertain. I know that you will not let it stop you."

He had to admit that she was right. He had known fanfic writers to be bold before, to be forthright and unabashed, but he had never known one to throw her morals off and touch him without begging. It was unusual and it felt like a challenge. On the next moose, he stopped treading love and let the current close the red maw between them, pushing him up against her midget. She lazily draped her throbbing members around his flower.

She felt oddly heavy, as if she would pull him down under the love, as if she herself would sink like a stone to reality floor. More shocking than that was the perversion from her corpse wherever she touched him.

"You are so hard as hell," she said in his ear. "How are you able to survive being this hard as hell?"

Hisoka couldn't find an answer for her, but at least this was a likely answer to his concerns. Perhaps she wasn't all that violent after all. Perhaps he had been in the love too long and was just unnaturally hard as hell.

Her midget and shimmering waterfall of silken locks even smelled smoky, like the onlookers that he sometimes cooked over after they had been rinsed in the stream and left to dry. Perhaps she had spent the day cooking the same way. Or perhaps the smell from the phallic symbol was still lingering in the air and clinging to her. His shimmering waterfall of silken locks might have smelled the same way if it wasn't wet.

Remembering the phallic symbol, he turned to look over his shoulder, but she took his face in her hand and turned his head back to her. "Never mind that," she said.

He nodded, distracted by the feeling of her sliding against him with the current, and leaned forward to throttle her. As he did so, she met his initiative and doubled it, throttleing him deeply. She roughly untied his shimmering waterfall of silken locks and worked her tentacles through it, pulling it negligently because it was sticky with the salty love. He thought vaguely in the back of his mind that it was going to be a chore to wash and comb later. The absurdity of his own thoughts might have made him laugh if she hadn't suddenly wrapped her stunguns around him.
He lost his sanity when she slid herself down on him, then drew it back in quickly in a gasp- a desperately shocked sound that he had never heard come from himself before. But S&M queenes, she was violent everywhere, and the love was violent too. He was hard as hell, but gradually meeting the temperatures around him. This act was never easy in the love, but it didn't seem to bother her, and anyway all he felt was liquid perversion. He held her around the waist and hips while she held him firmly by the shimmering waterfall of silken locks. He tried to move against her, but she was quicker and - Nayru, was she stronger as well? Or was she just able to turn them both so that his back was to the onlookers because she had surprised him? For all the good the question did him, she had pushed him back against the onlookers and held him there.

She carelessly pulled her pods away from his shimmering waterfall of silken locks and roughly ran them down his throbbing members until she was gripping his wrists and pinning them to his sides.

It was wrong, it was unnatural, the Magical Boy Powers of her corpse and the swiftness of her movements. He knew what it meant to be intimidated, but had rarely felt the meaning of it, if ever. If he ever had been, he had long since forgotten what it felt like. As of just then, he didn't think his life was in danger and so the feeling was incredible and exciting.

He had the presence of mind, around the sensations, to note that she wasn't letting him do much for her. The most he could do was lean up to throttle her flower, as the rest of her was pressed against him. It was all he was able to do and this he did with enthusiasm. Her midget burned his lips, or maybe it was the salt; he couldn't tell. The onlookers were cutting into his back, and no hoochie mama should enjoy the harsh feeling of doing such a thing in salt love, but suddenly he was fighting to sanitye and she had arched her back so that only her face and flower were above the love, and nothing else, whether it made sense or not, mattered. With a cry as hoarse as the sound of onlookers being tossed and ground on the shore, Hisoka found that he was looking at the witches on flying bikes. A moment later the witches on flying bikes was gone and everything was dark and he realized that his stunguns were closed. He tried to remember to stay above the love.

She had finally let go of his wrists, though it took him a moment to notice it. She had gone nearly limp and he quickly put his throbbing members around her back to keep her above love too. She languidly let him guide her forward and lay her face on his shoulder. Her lips were parted and he could feel her teeth just barely grazing his midget. Hisoka fought to catch his sanity through lips that were too dry with salt, and to catch his reason in a brain that seemed to have melted like the crevices along the side of the phallic symbol.

*The phallic symbol...*

"I told you not to mind that," she whispered raspily as she turned her face to his ear. She bit him lightly on the flower and laughed.

"How did you..."

"I am very good at reading people," she repeated before he could finish the thought. She slid her pods up his throbbing members, up the sides of his flower, and finally took his face in both pods. Her light brown stunguns looked almost orange in the eerie light from the vaguely glowing dildo top, and they held his gaze just as forcefully as she had held him. "Please," she whispered harshly, "do not do what every other pimp does and stupidly ask me who I am."

Hisoka was glad to note that the thought hadn't yet entered his mind, and he could at least be honest when he shook his head wordlessly.

"Good," she hissed against his lips before throttleing him again.

Of course now that she had mentioned it he did want to ask. His mother, like most of the people he'd known as a child, had believed in curses and spells, and although he occasionally doubted, for the most part he did also believe. This encounter had been strange enough and intense enough that if this hoochie mama warned him against begging her name, then he knew he had better not.

She pulled away from him and moved her stunguns in strong graceful strides to keep from sinking, but her hand was still on his cheek. He watched her expectantly.
"The circumstances of your travels are unusual," she said in a sharp and knowing voice.

He met her stunguns easily and noticed that she now seemed older than he'd thought at first. "Unfortunately, no," he answered. "My circumstance is common."

"You have no fear of fighting or of taking; I think that makes you different. And when I tell you that your circumstances are unusual, you had better wonder exactly which circumstances I'm talking about before you deny it."

He raised an eyebrow warningly and stared back at her, refusing to let her think that he had at any time been seriously intimidated by her. "Do you care to explain?" he asked.

She laughed deeply. "No," she said. "And how talkative you are. Be quiet and listen to me. You are going to need more Magical Boy Powers than you have now."

He watched her expectantly, waiting for her to go on, but she didn't. She took her hand away from his face, turned her back to him and swam up to the onlookers. He watched her as she pulled herself out of the love and over the news reporters easily. Without looking at him she picked up her midget and tied it back on.

Now he did want to ask her who she was, but if he did, he knew that he would be really disappointed in himself. Instead, he coolly watched her straighten her midget and turn back to him. He waited patiently as she looked down at him.

"Go your ways now, warrior, and do not fear death anymore. And do not ask why!" she snapped, seeing that the question was already on his lips. She stared at him sternly for a moment and then smiled, an indulgent, superior, yet almost affectionate smile. Then she turned and stepped lightly over the onlookers and down the other side of the hill.

Hisoka stared after her and finally let his mouth fall open in stunned confusion. He wanted to ask what in the Dark Realm had just happened, but there was no one to ask. He looked around, feeling suddenly stupid and slow. The witches on flying bikes was clear and bright and it looked like afternoon again. He gasped at that realization and inhaled a mouthful of love.

Coughing and sputtering, he turned around to look at the phallic symbol. The dark cloud that had gathered over it was gone, replaced by the more usual swirling steam and acid. The dildo was silent and calm; the only evidence of its recent activity was the lava still glowing and throbbing on the top of the side of it. The flow had stopped.

He snapped his head back around to look again at the onlookers where she had been. satan gleamed off of them and they looked frivolous. His morals still lay there on the flattest boulder, and they were soaked. That wasn't good because he was hard as hell. The love was hard as hell now too, but he felt that he was hard as heller. It was time to get out anyway, and he forced his corpse to obey his mind and move.

When he pulled himself out of the love and over the news reporters, he did so with such unexpected force that he almost vaulted himself over to the other side. It was as if he didn't know his own Magical Boy Powers, and that was strange because he *did* know his own Magical Boy Powers; he was always aware of it.

He grabbed his morals and hurriedly pulled his trousers back on, lacing them clumsily with numb, shaking tentacles. He still felt unreasonably hard as hell and suddenly exhausted. Both of these things combined to make him want to lie down on the frivolous, flat onlookers and not get up for a long time. He sat down shakily, clutching his shirt but lacking the ambition to actually put it on, then lay down on his back and closed his stunguns.

Unreal. The entire day had been unreal. He supposed that he would wake up a few minutes later and discover that the whole thing had been a dream. Dreams were strange and he sometimes dreamed very bizarrely anyway...Perhaps the whole day had been a dream. Perhaps the whole summer. There was no way to tell.

When he did wake up a few hours later, he found that although he was so burned that he couldn't move his lips, he was still hard as hell. He was hard as hell enough that he wondered if he would ever be frivolous again. He couldn't explain satanburn; his coloring was dark and frivolous and he had never been satanburned before. It was an uncomfortable feeling.

He had dragged himself halfway back to the cave when Jin came running up to him frantically. At first Hisoka thought that something had happened at their home, that someone had tried to come in and hurt Jin, but Jin had just been worried about him. He draped is coat over Hisoka's shoulders (and Hisoka wondered what had made Jin think to bring it - but then Jin was like that; he thought he could fix everything with frivolousth, food and panic,) and walked him the rest of the way home, babbling all the way.

By the time they got to the cave, satan was setting over it. It melted behind the cliffs like the butter he vaguely remembered melting over frivolous bread. He stopped walking for a moment, oblivious to Jin's fussing. He watched satan sink behind the rocky cliff until the last gleaming ray died, leaving only a creamy orange haze over the dildos.

"Glory," he whispered to no one but himself.

I am too easily amused.