Rewrite, Redone.
The Chammon are a crossbreed between chameleons, rattlesnakes, skinks, and (in a minor sense) wasps.
Appearance:
The chammon are like the Slyveren in appearance, with some substantial changes:
They possess a particularly soft "underbelly" area on the front of their body, from their chest to their inner thighs.
They have camoflauge capabilities across their entire body.
They are much more slender, even in their legs and hips, with less severity.
They have thinner lips.
Their tale caps off with a singular insectoid abdomen, possessing a secondary respiratory system, organs with the capability to make a hissing or rattling noise, a stinger, and the queens have a large, knotted ovipositor with sheath in the abdomen, possessing a secondary female reproductive system within the abdomen.
Other:
They have venom which, in low doses, acts as an aphrodisiac, while, in higher doses, acts as a tranquilizer with an arousing hangover.
They have the aforementioned hemaphroditic queens, which live for several millennia if not killed within a short span of time.
The females and queens inconsistently, when their children do not develop viviparously, lay large eggs which are 8.5 inches in height, and 4.7 inches in diameter at their widest point.
Females and queens often develop an obsession over eggs, as they do not often lay them when impregnated, yet instinctually expect to.
Reproductive Patterns:
Aside from the aforementioned differences, eggs also develop within 6 days, and females/queens ovulate every 18 hours.
Queens are far more fertile than females.
They both often, when laying eggs, position their body so that vaginal canal faces upwards, to prolong the process in the pursuit of stimulation.
This is the primary focus of the content. You have limited interaction with her for a short while, it gets to the point where you father a child with her, and an unforeseen fallout occurs due to, well, too many reasons to think about you.
In layman's terms, an already dysfunctional woman becomes an obsessive stalker.
It starts slowly. You walk into her shop, she's positioned incredibly compromisingly and making a fucking mess. You walk into her shop another time, she gives two of her, well not cheap products for free if only she can feel your warmth for a few minutes. The third time, she's nowhere to be seen. But inside her shop, outside her shop, on another planet, you feel... watched. Like someone's constantly 8 or so meters behind you. Watching. Invisible.
So you make your way to m'henga. no particular reason, just want to visit there again. You stroll down the forest for a while, staying in the light, sunny areas. You get to some tall grass. No biggie. Nothing looks off, you make your way through it relatively easily, but halfway through, the grass rustles for a moment.
And then something sharp sinks through your thigh. It's painful for just a moment, and your vision very quickly fades to black.
And you wake up. You open your eyes, it's still dark. You've been blindfolded. Your legs are tied to the ground, your back up against what feels like.... a tree.
She's somewhere behind you. She asks, in an even more infatuated tone of voice than when you last saw her, if you want the blindfold removed. Assume you say no. She walks quite a few steps, to a place just slightly straddling your feet. As she does this, you feel a lukewarm, dewy gust of air gust across your left side, and some tiny flecks of bark get stuck on your neck. She asks if you want to have sex, in a slightly more deadpan tone of voice. Assume you say no. She asks if she can merely touch you. Unless you're the least libidinous motherfucker in the galaxy, whatever her venom is, it has an... arousing hangover. You can't say no. She walks 3 steps forward, and drops herself, abruptly, and rather heavily, on your lap. She wraps her arms around you, her tail circling your waist. She asks if you can kiss. On impulse, you say yes. Not much violation could result of that. She moves her head to kiss you, and when your lips touch, starts rhythmically shifting along your body, slowly, not shifting much. You feel her tongue start to move down the side of your mouth, down your throat. She begins wheezing inconsistently through her nose, and starts exhaling arrhythmically into your mouth, and as she does, she becomes slightly... shaky. It takes you a few seconds to realize what this is, the sound not easily recognizable.
She's...... crying. Sobbing. You start choking on her tongue, and she notices, her head, lips and tongue recoiling away from your mouth. You gasp for air. In an incredibly distraught, frightened, and, well, pouting voice, she stammers, and says:
"Oh, oh-o--ooo-Oh shit. I'm-I'm- Fuck. I'm sor-sorr-sorry abou-about tha-that. Goddamn it. Fuck me, that was stupid. fuck, fuck FUCK! I'm-hyperventilates-I'm-I'll-I'll leave. fuck this. Fuck me. Sorry. What the flYING FUCK was I thinking. I ap-I apol-I apo-..I'm fucking sorry. fuuuuuuck."
She frantically removes your blindfold, slipping her hand over your eyes. She unties the rope she bound to your legs, removes the pegs holding it from the ground, jumps off of you and slips into the bushes, not to be seen again, at least for a bit, you suppose.
The second time. You're walking on a dirt path, with trees on either side. from one, something jumps down, bites you on the shoulder, and you pass out again. This time, you wake up with ropes tied around your shoulders, hanging 4 inches from a thick branch, once again blindfolded. She pulls you up onto the branch, pulling off the rope, leaving you unrestrained, if she wasn't straddling you. She asks if she can inspect your skin. You have no effort left. You just say yes. She shifts off most of your clothes, checking one limb at a time. Eventually, she finds a mark of your travels. She was bound to find one, you're in a jungle. Slowly, she licks it, covering a gratuitous area around it. She suddenly swings her head down into it, her fangs sinking in. But no venom. The fangs combined with her saliva take away the pain of the wound. She sinks her right hand, and its nails, into the open bite, and fishes out any contaminants, infections, debris. She takes her right hand out when she's done, and moves her left hand to hang on to your right arm, near the shoulder. You can hear her right hand groping around her right thigh, pulling out a few things. Moving back to the wound, she dabs a few drops of fine bourbon whiskey on it with a cotton ball. She puts those away, and weaves some stitches onto her bite mark. Putting the tools for that away, she finally unrolls a bandage and wraps it around the area, snipping the end off and taping it after about 4 rounds of the area. She kisses you on your cheek, rolls off of you and onto the underside of the branch, untying your blindfold, removing it, and slipping away once again. Soon after, you make your way off the tree, and regain your course.
Chamonn'es
Drastically altered version of the race in the first rewrite.The Chammon are a crossbreed between chameleons, rattlesnakes, skinks, and (in a minor sense) wasps.
Appearance:
The chammon are like the Slyveren in appearance, with some substantial changes:
They possess a particularly soft "underbelly" area on the front of their body, from their chest to their inner thighs.
They have camoflauge capabilities across their entire body.
They are much more slender, even in their legs and hips, with less severity.
They have thinner lips.
Their tale caps off with a singular insectoid abdomen, possessing a secondary respiratory system, organs with the capability to make a hissing or rattling noise, a stinger, and the queens have a large, knotted ovipositor with sheath in the abdomen, possessing a secondary female reproductive system within the abdomen.
Other:
They have venom which, in low doses, acts as an aphrodisiac, while, in higher doses, acts as a tranquilizer with an arousing hangover.
They have the aforementioned hemaphroditic queens, which live for several millennia if not killed within a short span of time.
The females and queens inconsistently, when their children do not develop viviparously, lay large eggs which are 8.5 inches in height, and 4.7 inches in diameter at their widest point.
Females and queens often develop an obsession over eggs, as they do not often lay them when impregnated, yet instinctually expect to.
Reproductive Patterns:
Aside from the aforementioned differences, eggs also develop within 6 days, and females/queens ovulate every 18 hours.
Queens are far more fertile than females.
They both often, when laying eggs, position their body so that vaginal canal faces upwards, to prolong the process in the pursuit of stimulation.
Carson
Carson is a 456 year old queen with irreparable post-war trauma and untreated ASD w/ comorbid OCD. Not good things to be, as you may guess, because those details satisfy a hefty requirement for platonic/romantic codependency. Now add hormones and romanticism to that, and you have a recipe for, well, crazy. Just crazy.This is the primary focus of the content. You have limited interaction with her for a short while, it gets to the point where you father a child with her, and an unforeseen fallout occurs due to, well, too many reasons to think about you.
In layman's terms, an already dysfunctional woman becomes an obsessive stalker.
It starts slowly. You walk into her shop, she's positioned incredibly compromisingly and making a fucking mess. You walk into her shop another time, she gives two of her, well not cheap products for free if only she can feel your warmth for a few minutes. The third time, she's nowhere to be seen. But inside her shop, outside her shop, on another planet, you feel... watched. Like someone's constantly 8 or so meters behind you. Watching. Invisible.
So you make your way to m'henga. no particular reason, just want to visit there again. You stroll down the forest for a while, staying in the light, sunny areas. You get to some tall grass. No biggie. Nothing looks off, you make your way through it relatively easily, but halfway through, the grass rustles for a moment.
And then something sharp sinks through your thigh. It's painful for just a moment, and your vision very quickly fades to black.
And you wake up. You open your eyes, it's still dark. You've been blindfolded. Your legs are tied to the ground, your back up against what feels like.... a tree.
She's somewhere behind you. She asks, in an even more infatuated tone of voice than when you last saw her, if you want the blindfold removed. Assume you say no. She walks quite a few steps, to a place just slightly straddling your feet. As she does this, you feel a lukewarm, dewy gust of air gust across your left side, and some tiny flecks of bark get stuck on your neck. She asks if you want to have sex, in a slightly more deadpan tone of voice. Assume you say no. She asks if she can merely touch you. Unless you're the least libidinous motherfucker in the galaxy, whatever her venom is, it has an... arousing hangover. You can't say no. She walks 3 steps forward, and drops herself, abruptly, and rather heavily, on your lap. She wraps her arms around you, her tail circling your waist. She asks if you can kiss. On impulse, you say yes. Not much violation could result of that. She moves her head to kiss you, and when your lips touch, starts rhythmically shifting along your body, slowly, not shifting much. You feel her tongue start to move down the side of your mouth, down your throat. She begins wheezing inconsistently through her nose, and starts exhaling arrhythmically into your mouth, and as she does, she becomes slightly... shaky. It takes you a few seconds to realize what this is, the sound not easily recognizable.
She's...... crying. Sobbing. You start choking on her tongue, and she notices, her head, lips and tongue recoiling away from your mouth. You gasp for air. In an incredibly distraught, frightened, and, well, pouting voice, she stammers, and says:
"Oh, oh-o--ooo-Oh shit. I'm-I'm- Fuck. I'm sor-sorr-sorry abou-about tha-that. Goddamn it. Fuck me, that was stupid. fuck, fuck FUCK! I'm-hyperventilates-I'm-I'll-I'll leave. fuck this. Fuck me. Sorry. What the flYING FUCK was I thinking. I ap-I apol-I apo-..I'm fucking sorry. fuuuuuuck."
She frantically removes your blindfold, slipping her hand over your eyes. She unties the rope she bound to your legs, removes the pegs holding it from the ground, jumps off of you and slips into the bushes, not to be seen again, at least for a bit, you suppose.
The second time. You're walking on a dirt path, with trees on either side. from one, something jumps down, bites you on the shoulder, and you pass out again. This time, you wake up with ropes tied around your shoulders, hanging 4 inches from a thick branch, once again blindfolded. She pulls you up onto the branch, pulling off the rope, leaving you unrestrained, if she wasn't straddling you. She asks if she can inspect your skin. You have no effort left. You just say yes. She shifts off most of your clothes, checking one limb at a time. Eventually, she finds a mark of your travels. She was bound to find one, you're in a jungle. Slowly, she licks it, covering a gratuitous area around it. She suddenly swings her head down into it, her fangs sinking in. But no venom. The fangs combined with her saliva take away the pain of the wound. She sinks her right hand, and its nails, into the open bite, and fishes out any contaminants, infections, debris. She takes her right hand out when she's done, and moves her left hand to hang on to your right arm, near the shoulder. You can hear her right hand groping around her right thigh, pulling out a few things. Moving back to the wound, she dabs a few drops of fine bourbon whiskey on it with a cotton ball. She puts those away, and weaves some stitches onto her bite mark. Putting the tools for that away, she finally unrolls a bandage and wraps it around the area, snipping the end off and taping it after about 4 rounds of the area. She kisses you on your cheek, rolls off of you and onto the underside of the branch, untying your blindfold, removing it, and slipping away once again. Soon after, you make your way off the tree, and regain your course.
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