A Throwaway Piece, by Bo Blackstar
The star of Subject Zero returns, this time to get pounded by minotaurs!
https://mega.nz/#!8zowAYZK!1k_N3_STOqY0MqvWjudCk6ztb157A1gSvGlR9xYqhq0
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Unyx was a huge success, and Amara couldn’t have been more proud. Conception had so far been 100% successful with all attempted species, producing offspring within the desired range of genetic diversity. The offspring were fertile and stable out to 3 generations thus far, without any sign of degradation. They inherited traits from their progenitors appropriately, with Unyx’s contribution being an acceptable difference from the mother and occasionally a personality trait. That, and a very small but notable increase in fertility, but that only made the experiments progress quicker.
In addition to his success as an experiment, Unyx was also exceeding Amara’s expectations as a pet, companion, and… regular lover. The two would spend hours together if Amara finished her work sufficiently early, which was about half the time. Unyx was attentive and obedient, and relished the time he got to spend with his creator.
Currently, Amara was circling a newer creature. An adult male minotaur, birthed from a wild, feral minotaur she had captured as part of her experiments. She was starting to experiment with more and more intelligent creatures, so she thought these minotaurs would be perfect. The species was capable of advanced thought, but this particular strain was from a feral base creature, without language. Minotaurs were complex creatures, the intelligent ones that interacted with the other intelligent races constantly at war between and civilized natures. This cunning but ultimately animalistic example was a stepping stone to pairing Unyx with intelligent, civilized species for procreation.
The minotaur stood rigidly still, breathing steadily. It was aware, but held immobile by magic for the inspection. This was the third time this specimen had been thus inspected, the other times at previous stages of his development. Amara examined him and each of his three brothers for any sign of physical irregularity, and monitored their behavior for signs of psychological quirks. So far they had shown none, with the exception that the entire generation had thus far been male. This was noteworthy, but statistically reasonable.
Amara passed around the immobilized minotaur again, coming around from the back to the front, and her gaze passed across the massive phallus hanging between his legs. Hanging there, limp, it was about as thick as her wrist and almost as long as her forearm. Her gaze lingered for a moment, and then another. Suddenly the large member twitched, the minotaur grunting and snarling briefly.
A chill ran up Amara’s spine and her eyes shot to the powerful minotaur’s face, a full foot-and-a-half higher than her own. The holding spell was secure, of course. That miniscule amount of movement was still permitted. The minotaur stared back at Amara, it’s eyes filled with intent, and also… thought. It was thinking of how to get its immensely strong hands on her, she realized, and the chill shot up her spine again. The specimens in her experiments had never demonstrated the resistance to magic that Unyx possessed, but sometimes Amara wondered if they would. What they did seem to inherit was Unyx’s urge for procreation, which suited Amara’s experiments just fine, as more generations were needed to gather proper data.
It was then that Amara noticed the bull-man’s phallus was now semi-erect, and appeared to be periodically flexing in her direction. She shook her head clear and uttered a spell, sending the minotaur back to the labyrinth-lair she had created for it and its kin to live in. It was housed in a pocket dimension in which a year passed in a month, allowing faster growth of the specimens for Amara’s purposes. By observing them there, she could take notes on the minotaurs’ legendary capacity for navigation, and see if it was influenced at all by the breeding program. The labyrinth was enchanted to change in small ways every once in a while, to keep them guessing and learning. She wondered how she herself would do at navigating such a maze…
[continued in pdf...]

A Throwaway Piece, by Bo Blackstar Something I actually adore from many years ago. A powerful sorceress becomes the subject of her own experiments. [magic, tentacles/female, to con]  https://mega.nz/#!AjwXRJTC!Ua5TVYkwIYprZKNfB7GOVQEeGRAvauurAosuVKGh1qM  *****              Amara moved wearily down the long corridor, sincerely wishing that such precautions werent necessary. But no, they certainly were. Amara couldnt have anyone stumbling across this particular plan, it would simply be too difficult to explain and there was no knowing what they would think. This experiment was important, and the archmage didnt want anything interfering.              This experiment was to be the beginning of a larger sequence of experiments in the creation of new creatures. Inspired by the owlbear, Amara wanted to try out blending or creating original forms of life. The first subject was to be the progenitor of the rest of them, a universal mate with which to breed new species. That way, when creating a new being, Amara would need only create a single female, and from there her current work would take over procreation.              It was a somewhat bizarre approach, admittedly, but Amara had gained many of the ideas involved from Arkoths more questionable studies. Subject Zero, which Amara called Unyx, was an attempt to create something that could impregnate any creature capable of being impregnated. This required a great deal of adaptability on Unyxs part, which Amara needed to engineer.              Progress had been slow, but not as slow as Amara had feared. Finally arriving at the end of the corridor, Amara removed the magical lock on the door where the corridor deadended. To open it required sliding the heavy stone slab back, and then into the adjacent wall. With a sigh, Amara worked the magic of telekinesis, and the slab out of the way, then replaced it once on the other side. Today at court had been truly exhausting, and Amara had little energy or motivation left. But this needed to be done.              The stone was the second barrier between her experimental chambers and the rest of the world, the first being its remote location. Beyond the stone was a small room set up with a bed and desk on one side, and various complex arcane laboratory equipment on the other. Also here was the third and most impressive barrier.              A simple doorway with no door marked the entrance to the chamber where Unyx was held. Not having time to delay, Amara pulled back the hood of her heavy cloak and entered the next room. There was a shimmer as she passed through the doorway, and her robes vanished, as did the rest of her carried and worn possessions, leaving the archmages slender, pale body naked in the chamber, her odd, white hair dropping down her back to her narrow waist.             This was the third barrier. Anything passing through the doorway that was not Amara herself was instantly whisked away to an extradimensional space. Living creatures passing through were sent to a different extradimensional space, one that supported life but could not be escaped from within. This ensured that no one and nothing could get to Unyx. Amara wanted nothing to interfere with her creations development, even something she brought in herself on accident. It also worked upon exiting the chamber, preventing the potential escape of her creation by teleporting it back into the center of its own chamber.              Admittedly, after the first time passing through the doorway and entering the chamber naked, Amara had thought that there must have been a better way. But it had seemed like such a perfect solution at the time, and erecting the enchantment had been timeconsuming and expensive. She wasnt about to change it after the fact.              The chamber on the other side of the doorway was warm, and mildly humid, better for the developing creature. In the center of the room was a small depression in the floor, about ten feet across. Within this small space was Unyx, contained by a repulsion field that pushed it back into the depression if it tried to exit. The creature writhed as it sensed Amaras presence, and the creator stopped for a moment to regard her creation.  [continued in pdf...]                        

A Throwaway Piece, by Bo Blackstar[/ opportunistic treasure hunter and a mimic. https://mega.nz/#!w3ACDaBK!UCMxk5qUOu_z4fsd6DPmqbBpfDkRyqXjbkwPuBjEaic ***** Castle Bleak had not always been called such. In another age it had been known as Castle Breakwater, the jewel of an island kingdom unchallenged on the seas. When the inhabitants of the castle, and indeed all people on the capital island, simply vanished without apparent cause, it took other names. Fearing a curse or some divine retribution, people stayed away from the abandoned isle and its eerily quiet harbor. After a few parties of investigators, explorers, and looters seemed to vanish as well, the severity of the places reputation deepened. Over time, Castle Breakwater became Castle Bleakwater, and then just Castle Bleak. Considered cursed, haunted, or at best a haven for some bizarre illness, the place was left to rot. Shielded from interference by superstition and its unsettling history.            Adda Shae had never cared much for superstition. When she heard the old tales of the abandoned castle, the brash young scavenger had a somewhat different takeaway than most. For Adda, the talk of ghosts and magic was just so much blabbering. What mattered was that there was a castle, the capital of a oncewealthy seafaring kingdom, and hardly anyone at all had bothered to try and loot the place. Their foolishness would be her fortune! Of that, Adda had no doubt.            When no one was willing to take her to the island, Adda had simply procured a oneperson boat from the nearest active harbor and set sail herself. She could pay for it when she got back, if anyone made a fuss. The island was by no means , actually just visible from the mainland. Nor were the surrounding seas especially choppy. Adda couldnt help but laugh to herself, salty seawater spraying across her sunkissed skin, a refreshment on what seemed a simple pleasure voyage.  Her long, black hair was tucked into a tail which waved in the wind. Only a few times did she need to exert herself managing the boat, which was thankful. Adda was on the shorter side, and a spent running away from conflict had left her shapely legs the only real toned part of her physique. Those legs were hugged tightly by the young womans patched trousers, no belt needed as they fit snugly over her broad hips. The appeal of Addas posterior had led a few of her streetwalker friends to suggest she could make good money selling herself, if she flaunted it right. That option had always seemed too much like work, however. Adda craved the thrill of hunting for the next big score, which was always exhausted by her ensuing celebrations within the month. Sometimes within the day.            When her lively brown eyes caught sight of the islands derelict docks, Adda steered toward them without hesitation. A few sunken ships and collapsed piers made the area a little tricky to navigate, but the treasure hunter was plenty deft enough to pull in and tie off without issue. It was a credit to the builders that more of the harbor hadnt simply fallen into the sea by this point. Adda made sure she had everything she needed. An old, mothchewed jacket was worn open over a small white shirt that easily covered her minimal bust while leaving a bit of her belly bared. Into the jacket were sewn a dozen pockets, some on the inside of the sleeves near the cuff, either holding the tools of the trade or merely as places to stash something. A small dagger was strapped to her thigh, another in her boot, and most important of all were the three empty packs she slung over her shoulders to carry the first load of loot from the castle.            Adda walked up the docks, humming happily to herself. The only other sounds were the creaking of wood, the lapping of the water, and the whisper of the wind. Not even the call of a bird disturbed the scene as the young woman marched merrily onto the silent island. [continued in pdf...]

A Throwaway Piece, by Bo Blackstar A case of lusty magic gone wrong for an unfortunate student of the arcane arts. [magic, tentacles, bad end[?]] https://mega.nz/#!FiYiwbqb!CqoqUlIpbaSdeHP31DpddFaEXq0ijUt2GTctp68rmz4
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Celan checked over her preparations one last time. She had made an excuse to busy until morning. The door was locked, and sealed with a spell just in case some novice practicing his basic lock picking spell wandered by, as had happened once before. The room was warded with a silence effect, so no one would hear what was going on inside.
           Turning her attention to the center of the room, the young mage checked over every detail of the summoning circle painted on the floor, comparing it against the book she had found it in. A few papers that had been tucked into a book and left in the library, actually. Celan had stumbled across them while researching the history of the summoning arts, and at first had wondered if it was some kind of joke. The pages detailed the opening of a weak portal, the basis of all summoning, but this one was linked to some obscure demiplane that Celan had never heard of. As it was described, the portal remained open for much longer than most summoning portals, because only a portion of the intended creature could pass through.
           The pages also contained a sketch and description of the summoned creature, as well as suggested uses of the ritual, and Celan’s ivory cheeks still blushed when she thought about it. Surely it was some sort of gaff, she had thought. But the inscriptions and intonations detailed seemed viable. So, some nights ago, she had tried it, briefly. To her thrill, it had worked! Upon completing the ritual, a softly glowing pink portal had opened, and through had come a single, long tendril of some larger alien entity. It had searched and explored within the circle, twitching and undulating lewdly before Celan had the portal closed.
           The young student of magic had been encouraged by her success, her confidence bolstered. Only two days later, under the supervision of an instructor, she had successfully summoned and controlled an imp, a feat she had thought herself months away from accomplishing. Her mind had dwelled on the strange summon she had found in that book, however, and finally she had resolved to try the… “activity” suggested in the notes.
           Celan was not known for being particular prudish or overly amorous, but this was so peculiar and fascinating that she simply had to try. Everything at least once, she reminded herself, a mantra that had actually served her quite well in her studies thus far. With a flutter in her stomach and her cheeks hot, Celan disrobed and tossed her clothes onto her bed. She went to the summoning circle, drawn on the floor and dried in place, and positioned herself over it. She rested her butt just a bit out from the center, her waist just inside the outer ring of the circle and her legs spread.
[continued in pdf...]