Harvested

The darkness hid their approach and it was their whispering that gave them away; high pitch, almost chirping like in nature.

You’re shattered. Your body is swore, aching and battered. You would have pulled yourself free from the puddle of spunk and goodness knows what else if you had even an ounce of strength but after the tentacle **** you found yourself strangely drained of energy.

You heard the three approaching before you could see them but you still couldn’t hide from them.

Each of the three women are short, perhaps around 5 foot, and not human. They have red skin, a dark and burnt colour of red that’s highlighted with what looks like the suggestion of scales or ridges. Each wears scraps of leather that barely cover their curvy bodies. Worryingly, each as animal like pointed ears, yellowy eyes and sharp, white, hungry teeth.

The trio are armed with short spears; black wood with ivory heads. As the warriors cautiously stalk towards you they keep their spear tips down, pointed towards you, ready to thrust forward and jab.

The first one reaches you. Shorter, just, than the other two and with a torn ear – she seems to the bravest. She uses the butt of her spear to thwack your back. It hurts but you still can’t move. It’s as if the tentacles have stolen your stamina for now.

The first of the female warriors chitters something to the other two; pleased that you don’t move. All of a sudden you find her arm around your neck – and she’s strong for her size – and she thrusts a crude wooden bowl under your face. Thwack she smacks your backside with the butt of her spear again. Ouch.

You cough. You splutter. If you had more energy you’d growl and protest – but you can’t. Your coughing represents about the peak of your power right now but your coughing seems to please her. The milky, horribly thick ooze that the tentacles pumped into your throat dribbles out from between your lips and into her bowl.

More chittering sounds; the three women seem very happy. They whisk the bowl away from you. They sniff it. More conversation that you can’t understand and then, before you know it, one of the small red women have grabbed each of your legs and begin pulling you down the corridor.