Helping Hand

Another request

RealityWarper

Could you make a story about a Hellhound bouncer that is so tall and muscular she makes Jinkos and Minotaurs look like normal monsters?

About the story I was thinking of this scenario: A guy that likes stronger women is heartbroken because the female knights in his town want nothing to do with him, all of them wanting heroes and other knights instead (he lives in an order town). So he took a long walk and without noticing it walked all the way to the neighbouring town which is a monster town, he stumbles upon a mamono bar and as he wants to get drunk and forget about everything he goes there, normally he wouldn't go there as it is tabu in The Order to interact with monsters, but right now he doesn't give a fuck about anything and goes in anyway. There he meets the Hellhound, he only wants to get drunk but monster girls keep hitting on him at the lone table he sat, so he goes and ask the Hellhound if she can keep other monster girls away as he only wants to get drunk and forget about his problems. The Hellhound interprets this as he asking for her protection and thinks that is cute. So the Hellhound seduce him and rapes him.

Edited by RealityWarper 6 days ago

SPARTAN-047

Sounds workable, I'll see what I can do about this one.

6 days ago

RealityWarper

Thanks, you are awesome!

6 days ago

SPARTAN-047

^_^ It will take a while, and it may not be too long since I have a long WIP for Spazerz already, around 80 pages.

6 days ago

RealityWarper reply to #4

SPARTAN-047 wrote:

^_^ It will take a while, and it may not be too long since I have a long WIP for Spazerz already, around 80 pages.

That's fine, you don't have to include the scene where the knights reject him or the walk, you can start with him finding the bar and he just tells what happened or how he got there.

Fetishes: femdom

Tags: monster girl, monster girl encyclopedia, mamono, hellhound

The man walked over to the woman standing next to the pet shop.

'Would you like to go out with me?' he asked. 'I've got a cute roomful of teddy bears. Wouldn't you like to cuddle up to them?'

The woman snorted. 'Oh God, another pathetic worm who wants to go out with my by proving he's sensitive! Get lost, buster.'

She threw her cigarette to the ground and started walking away, leaving the man staring after her in a mixture of shock, amazement, and déjà vu.

He hung his head sadly. Why was it always the same for him? Why didn't even normal women like him?

He could understand that about the knights who served the Order realm. It was comprehendible that the knights would want someone of similar status, but why would normal women who couldn't even fight turn him down? What gave them the idea they deserved a big strong hulk who would leap in front of them to take a spear? Why did they think they deserved anything more than a man's flesh spear going into their sheaths and covering their pussy walls with a truckload of hot cream?

He walked to the area behind the bar. Maybe there would be someone who was a little more gentle.

He walked up to a gentle, feminine woman who was leaning against the wall, looking lost and forlorn. He raised a hand to touch her snow-white arm. She started and walked backwards, and then her expression changed completely when she saw who had touched her. Her brows went down and her face twisted in a scowl.

'Ma'am, please don't be offended at this,' he said, 'but I thought you looked like a nice woman to take out and I'd like to know you better. Would you -'

He was answered with a shove in the chest which sent him staggering backwards to land on his butt. The woman snorted and walked away.

'I don't sleep with or drink with cowards like you,' she said dismissively. 'If you want me, you better be at least five and three-quarters of an inch taller than me, have huge biceps, and be a braveheart. A warrior who knows no equal, someone who has never been defeated, and who can deal with any situation without flinching or turning back. He needs to be uncaring even in the face of death, and if he does die, he better die after killing every last man or woman who struck him even with a graze! That is my kind of man, peasant! Do you get it?'

He stared at her in amazement, wondering where she got such a speech from. He finally decided he was better off joking about it. 'Did you make it impromptu, or have you been rehearsing that speech since you were born? It's a really good one!'

He started clapping, the sound echoing around the place. The woman glared at him, infuriated, and drew her sword from the sheath at her belt. She walked up to him and leaned down, her face almost touching his as if for a kiss. She raised the sword and, much to his horror, swung it at his neck. He yelped and held up his hands defensively over his face. Her blade stopped at his neck, the sharp edge grazing it lightly. A trickle of blood came out of his neck and flowed down his shirt, staining the side.

He stared up at her with a mixture of fear, anger and exasperation. He couldn't understand why every woman he met was treating him like this. He didn't deserve this.

'That ought to make it clear what I'm capable of, worm,' said the woman, removing her sword from his neck and placing it back in her scabbard. 'Remember: I don't take any sort of messing around from the men I hate. And you're now on the list, toerag. Don't ever meet me again, or it'll be all the worse for you.

She turned around and started walking away. He glared after her, wondering why she had been such a bitch. Surely she could signal her disinterest in a better way.

He watched as she walked to the corner and disappeared around it. Wondering where she was going and deciding to try again, he jogged forwards and turned the corner. He saw her going ahead, about to reach some tables where a group of men and women were sitting around and getting themselves drunk senseless.

He ran forward to her as quietly as he could. He didn't want to scare or upset her, he just wanted her to give him a chance. One fucking chance so he could show her he had the quality of caring, even if he didn't have all the ideal characteristics she was looking for.

He scurried behind the woman as she went towards the men and women getting tipsy in typical Friday night fashion. He was already on the grass of the lawn now where the tables were set, and he had to run to keep up with every stride of hers. She was actually taller than him and might even be a warrior, judging from the sword at her waist and the control she had over her combat skills. The sword was sharp and dangerous enough to slice his head off, but she had stopped it at the right moment and simply kept it against his neck to enhance the warning she gave him. He still felt she was a jerk, but maybe she would soften if she saw his request was sincere. He didn't want to lose the opportunity to have her in case she was a fighter. Women who were trained in combat, those who could protect themselves and others around him were the types for him, or so he felt.

Too bad they had other types.

He noticed the woman had moved further ahead while he was lost in his own thoughts of a happy ending and jogged forwards. The woman reached the nearest table and, much to his horror, sank down on a chair. One which already had a seven foot tall, muscular blonde man sitting in it. He quirked an eyebrow and remained as he was, indifferent and aloof. The woman didn't seem to mind, though, because she leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

'Hello,' she said. Her voice was completely opposite of how she had behaved with him. Sweet, gentle and flirty. What the hell? How could she just transform into an innocent maiden with this punk? 'Want to get drunk with me, handsome?'

The knight looked down at her dispassionately and leaned forward to kiss her on the lips. She giggled and accepted it, sucking his tongue into her mouth and making lewd sounds as their lips were glued together.

The rejected man stood there, shocked and stupefied as the huge knight leaned down and kissed her neck, leaving little bites up and down it. She giggled and pinched his nose, murmuring 'cute!' as he continued feeling her up. He reached behind her and pulled the helmet on her belt off to place it on the table. He used one hand to undo the buckle on her belt and pulled it out of her tunic, sword and all. She giggled as he threw it to the ground and began kissing down her neck, reaching her breasts. She squealed as he tried to push his face into them, her relatively tiny hands grabbing at his neck and pushing at it.

'N-no!' she giggled. 'Don't! You naughty boy, you're going way too fast!'

Disregarding her remonstrances, the towering hulk grabbed her tunic and pulled it open, revealing a lacy bra and palmable breasts of decent size. He nuzzled his face into her breasts, ignoring her giggling and demands that he stop right now or she would take out her sword. He raised his head and met her gaze levelly, his strong hands gripping her shoulders tightly.

'I don't think so, little girl,' he said, pulling her forwards. 'The only one who will be taking out any swords and shoving it deep into anyone else will be me, just like I do in my battles. Get your clothes off, I need my sword in your sheath and between those lovely round stones of yours. And you can call me King Arthur when I pull my Excalibur from the soft little rock between your legs. Hurry up, or I'll do it myself.'

The woman giggled and kept saying 'no! You're so pushy, you know that!' even as she tugged her top down, then reached behind her to take her bra off. The miserable man didn't get to see what her breasts were like, since the huge mountain of a bloke dived between her breasts as soon as her bra fluttered to the ground, licking and tasting them like ice cream scoops.

He hung his head as the knights made out, their tongues twirling passionately around each other. He was heartbroken. The knights swore oaths to protect everyone. Why wouldn't they at least protect him from their own wrath.

He turned around and started walking out of the place. As he reached the corner which led to the exit, he turned and cast another sad glance at the kissing pair, their mouths meeting as one being and their hands all over each other. The man was groping her tits and feeling how smooth and flat her stomach was, while she was feeling his hard, bulging biceps. He looked down at his own arms, cursing his genetics for the thin arms he had got, and turned the corner. He walked to the exit, the scene he just saw replaying in his head over and over again.

He couldn't stand this. He would just find another bar he could get drunk in and forget about his failures.

*********************

He walked along the road without really noticing where he was going. He stumbled along the street, looking for the drinking cup sign.

There seemed to be none. Or they weren't open. Or even worse, maybe they went unnoticed in all this darkness since they didn't have lights on, perhaps they just forgot to set up signs.

He went on, struggling to see through his tears and the haze surrounding him. He saw a small set of lights in the distance. His hopes rising, he started running through the streets, heading right for the signboard he could see.

He reached it and tried to read it. He wiped his eyes and used his handkerchief to mop up any remaining wetness, and stared at the board.

Damn.

It was America's favourite pictogram. A picture of a knife and fork. He had found a restaurant sign. A goddamn restaurant.

He turned around and started heading back up the street, feeling cold and miserable. He shouldn't have bothered. This was a waste of time, he should have gone home and slept. He couldn't afford to make any more mistakes just to get drunk with someone.

As he walked along the road, passing a nearby strip club, a voice hailed him.

'Hey there, cutie! Need a place for a quickie?'

He turned his head slowly. His eyes popped out and he felt his heart flutter.

The woman who was waving to him from near a pictogram showing a wine bottle pouring a generous dose into a wine glass was an eight-foot tall goddess of pure muscular beauty. Her arms were massive, enough to lift and crush boulders in one go. Her abs were so well defined, ceremonial armour could be formed out of those and sold for a fortune. Eight packs of hard, solid abs, each like a steel plate, were shining in the dim light of the board. They looked smooth and shiny. He almost felt his tongue shoot out of his mouth in anticipation of tasting them. He realised he was almost about to get on his knees, his tongue half hanging out of his mouth and ready to do what this goddess commanded. He snapped to attention, blushing at what he was sure was a ridiculous sight with him trying to lick air. He slowly walked over to the hellhound, trying not to gaze up and down her body, but it was so damn hard. Not his dick, the fact that she was a gorgeous beast.

Her skin was a dusky black, more than the night which had fallen upon them. Her legs were like two concrete columns reinforced with cement, the thick thighs and bulging calves making him wonder what it would be like to be between them, his face in her pussy and eating her out with gusto. He could just imagine the hellhound snapping her fingers, and then forcing him to his knees when he stared at her body, unable to move from the mesmerising sight of her enormous breasts snapping out of the leather bra she wore. The same one holding up her mountains right now. She wore leather hotpants which were ripped in a few places. The bits which covered her ass were ripped off so that the lower parts of her rear stuck out from them. Her tail was quite long and fluffy, the fur well-brushed and maintained. Her ears were like a dog's, upright and twitching. She had fluffy paw-pads, each digit ending in wicked-looking claws which could probably tear a wall to shreds. Her back showed hints of muscle too, the shoulder blades popping out through her skin as he could see when she bent over to pick up a piece of paper which was on the ground. She looked at it, and then directed a jet of burning orange flames towards it with her eyes like Cyclops from X-Men. The paper burned into ashes and crumpled to the ground.

It looked like he had left Order territory and gone into mamono lands. He didn't care though, he was too desperate for some human, or rather nonhuman contact. He walked over to her, and stood in front of her, watching the paper disappear with her magical flames.

She looked back up at him, smiling a little at how his mouth gaped open in surprise at her abilities. She raised a claw and beckoned him forwards. He moved towards her nervously, his mouth dry. He swallowed several times to moisten his parched throat, but it didn't help. She was both sexy and intimidating, enough to make him harder than diamonds and wonder if she would tear him apart just with a look.

'So, cutie, you still want that quickie?' she asked.

His jaw dropped. He didn't know that mamono would just proposition someone that blatantly. He swallowed again and opened his mouth to ask what she meant, although he was sure he already knew. He raised a hand slowly, wondering what she was going to do to him. Probably in a back alley behind this bar.

The hellhound burst into surprisingly feminine giggles at the look on his face. 'It's all right, I won't eat you up. Unless that's what you want. I meant a quick drink if you're up for it.'

He opened his mouth again, and this time he could speak. 'Um, with you? Y-Yeah, sure, I didn't think you'd want to -'

The hellhound placed a hand on his shoulder. 'Oh, you flatter little old me, really. But no, not with me. I meant in the bar. You seemed to need a little pick-me-up. I'm the bouncer, and I'm guarding the place for now, unfortunately. You'll have to do without me for now, I'm afraid. My duty hours will last a while.'

She gave him a warm, sincere smile, and his heart melted. He would do anything to be able to go out with this goddess. He could give up everything he owned, any vacation he wanted to go to, to kiss her once. Or rather, have her kiss him. He knew how forceful and persistent hellhounds were, and he wanted to experience it for himself.

'Bouncer, huh?' he said. He seemed to have forgotten to move his mouth. She was taking his breath, and his sanity away. 'It really suits you. You're really se-strong, you know.'

The hellhound smiled at him. It was a smile which communicated she was perfectly aware of what he had been about to say. 'Thank you, dearie. Now run inside before it closes. I'd love to talk, but maybe that could wait for a little while? It won't be long before the bar closes, so you could have your drink, and then I'll be with you when we've shut up shop. Go on, darling.'

'O-okay,' he stammered, his eyes travelling to her abs. He walked past her as slowly as he dared, looking over every inch of her body. She was too damn hot not to notice. He could see how her legs started form the bottom of her ass, stretching down to those soft foot-paws he could imagine wrapped around him. He walked past her and turned around, walking backwards now as she gazed towards the door of the bar, looking out for other patrons. Her ass was enormous and very muscular, as well defined as a calligraphy plate. He looked down the backs of her strong thighs and legs, and then stared at her back. He felt something twitch downstairs, and quickly clamped a hand over his growing boner. It would be really embarrassing to pop one right now. He gave a soft whimper as he saw the hard muscles in her back, imagining what it would be like to give her an oil massage right now as she stood there. He didn't care who would watch or laugh at him, he just wanted to feel up that body. He wondered what she would do if his touch aroused her enough. Most likely whip around and slam that hard body on his, feeling him up and rubbing him in a massage of her own. She would pin him down and rip all their clothing off, slamming her hips on his and riding him ragged until morning. And he would love it with all his heart, eventually directing his love to her.

He felt his ass bump against the door leading to the inside of the bar, and jolted himself into wakefulness by slapping his forehead. He really needed to get drunk or get laid. Even though both could be a good feeling.

He turned around and walked into the bar. The smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol assaulted his nostrils. He wrinkled it a little, then took a deep breath. It felt as if they were really drinking in there. The mamono could probably put away a hundred more pints than a human could.

The bar was filled with mamono of every shape and size. Pretty kikimora maids in uniform walked along the tables, distributing drinks and snacks to the patrons. One of them was in a hadaka apron, and actually letting any customer feel up her tits and ass under it if they wanted to. She giggled as a slim man with lean muscles reached up her apron to rub her ass in circles, and then pinch it as she bent over to pick up a fork which she had dropped on purpose. She stood up as he reached to the other buttock, rubbing her creamy flesh and grabbing her butt cheek in a hand, squeezing it like it was a lemon. She squealed as she felt his hand rubbing against her asshole and squirmed away, but he grabbed her and bent her over the table. He flipped her apron over her ass on her back and started spanking and groping her properly, using one hand to open up her ass cheeks and inserting his finger into her rectum a little. He took out his finger and sucked on it, lubing it up, and then shoved it back inside to finger fuck her tiny little pucker. She squealed and giggled, muttering 'no!' several times under her breath. He responded by adding a second finger inside her ass, moving both in and out of her with increasing tempo.