Nobilis Erotica

Here is chapter 1 of "Cagefighting Nuns in Tanks" a 9-chapter novella.  You can get the rest of this story by supporting the AudioThrust patreon campaign. Written by Nobilis Reed, narrated by Vivienne Ferrari, audio produced by Peter Elfman.  

AudioThrust is go! We are proud to present "Rockets, Rapiers and Romance" Written by Nobilis Reed, narrated by Vivienne Ferrari, audio produced by Peter Elfman. For the full AudioThrust experience, support the patreon campaign.    

Welcome listeners!  Soon it will be time for this podcast to come out of its chrysalis, transformed into a glorious new form. Here is what is going to happen: 1> The format is changing. Instead of focusing on short stories, I'll be presenting short stories, novellas, and perhaps even novels. They will be written by me, and they will come out when they come out.  Working to a deadline was stressful and I need to reduce the stress in my life.  You'll receive a bunch of episodes, and then a hiatus while I write the next season. The podcast will be closed to submissions for the foreseeable future. 2> The focus is changing. For most of the content,  you'll need to be a supporter of the Patreon campaign.  On the free, public podcast, you'll get teaser chapters and short stories. The one dollar level of the podcast will get short stories and first chapters, and access to the Nobilis Erotica archives.  The three dollar level will also get full novellas and novels.  The five dollar level will also get bonus material such as narration bloopers and reactions. 3> The branding is changing.  The podcast and patreon campaign will now be “Nobilis Reed Presents: Audiothrust” or just “Audiothrust.”  The change will be automatic; you don't need to subscribe to a new feed and you don't need to follow a new Patreon campaign. I'm transforming the existing ones. 4> The team is changing. I'm enlisting the marvelous Vivienne Ferrari as my go-to narrator, and I've got an audio editor and sound designer to handle the editing gruntwork. They are my co-equal partners in this new venture.   With the current plan, Audiothrust will be emerging and spreading its wings in the first quarter of 2025.    Happy New Year!

This month's patron-funded story is Personalize your Netherparts by Cecilia Tan.  It's narrated by the author. ANNOUNCEMENT: As of today, the Nobilis Erotica podcast is going on hiatus. The patreon campaign is paused, the call for submissions is closed, and there will be no stories posted. Stay subscribed to the podcast feed, however. As I pursue new projects, I'll announce them here, and you won't want to miss it. If you enjoy this podcast, you're going to enjoy the things I've got coming up. And if things go well, we'll be seeing more stories again.  Thank you all for the fabulous ride we've been on.  Stay with me to see what the next ride looks like!  

This month's patron-funded story is Bitter Luck by J Aster.  It's narrated by Nobilis Reed. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class    

This month's patron-funded story is The Face of Venus by Nolan Vancey.  It's narrated by Nobilis reed. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign.  

This month's patron-funded story is Time by PM Amaras and Paul Driggere.  It's narrated by Nobilis Reed. For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class  

This month's patron-funded story is "A Merman Walks Into a Bar" by Dannye Chase.  It's narrated by Nobilis Reed.  Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class  For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign.  

This month's patron-funded story is The Haunted Vagina by Matthew Barron.  It's narrated by Bliss Morgan. For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class  

This episode is "The Princess and the Penis" by Linn Thomas, narrated by The Belching Cow.  World Naked Gardening Day For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class Once upon a time, not all that long ago and in a land not that far away, lived a delightful princess. All who met her, both men and women immediately fell in love. Sometimes individuals became infatuated with the princess because of her delightful wit, her kind words or crystal laugh. Others found themselves seduced by her keen intellect, sharp insights and wide knowledge. And of course, she was beautiful. Long luxurious hair, soft clear skin combined with a luscious body. Whether the visitor fell in love with her charm, her intellect, or her body, in all cases, her presence stiffened any man's cock and made any woman's pussy wet.

This month's patron-funded story is "The Bacteria that Evolved on the Trip to Zebulon 83" by Patrick Mannus.  It's narrated by Nobilis Reed. For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class   Charlie didn't think much of the reports of cancer-related deaths on the Zebulon-83 colony ship. They were sad to hear people had died, sure, but to Charlie, the deaths weren't personally more upsetting than the radiation-related leukemia deaths after the toxic train spill. If anything, they were more pissed about the train spill deaths because that was the government's negligence at work. The Zebulon-83 deaths seemed like just bad luck as a result of transit-related radiation exposure during cryopreservation. Charlie took slightly more notice when it came out that all the Zebulon cancers were prostate, breast, ovarian, and endometrial. Not so much because that meant anything to them scientifically speaking, but because it was just kind of odd. Charlie worked in IT, but even they could recognize that it was unusual for the cancers to cluster like that. When it came out that the cause of the unusual cancer clustering was unregulated growth of hormone-altering intestinal bacteria that had evolved during the flight to Zebulon-83, and that said same bacteria could be directed to change people's genders more effectively than any hormone supplements, Charlie sat up and took notice. They sent the article to a fellow comms satellite IT specialist. They didn't work for the same company, but even though it was a growing field, there were still few enough of them that you just knew the other commsatties. And Charlie had always kind of had a crush on Morgan. Morg. Check it out. Interesting tech coming out of that Zebulon-83 colony ship. When they'd met at a commsatty conference, which was really just a place to use illicit and non-illicit substances and talk shit about the companies they worked for and all the exploits they had over the companies if they were ever wrongfully terminated, Charlie had been drawn to Morgan. They just got the sense of a kindred spirit. When your body was not always the right fit for your soul, you could see the same mismatch in others. And Charlie had seen that in Morgan.  

This month's patron-funded story is The Fishbowl by C Lenz.  It's narrated by Vivienne Ferrari. Audiobooks narrated by Vivienne Ferrari For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class   “This is a bit public, isn't it?” “As public as it gets, babe,” Lily replied. The small plexiglass dome affectionately known as the Fishbowl jutted out of the space station, letting them float above earth. The observation deck was theoretically available to all employees, but most didn't spend their time off looking at a planet they may never set foot on again. “All those billionaires still rich enough to live on the planet can see us.” “My parents aren't billionaires, and they live down there,” Cass said. “Well, maybe they shouldn't have kicked you out. Then they wouldn't be subjected to this show.”   Lily ducked her head down. In zero gravity, she had to keep her arms wrapped around Cass's thighs to keep herself in position.        

This month's story is "Blackberry Picking" by Daniel Stride, narrated by Calyopi Utterances. For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class   The baking heat of late summer was upon her, and the flies were out. Iris wiped the sweat from her brow, and stuffed another blackberry between her teeth. She knew she shouldn't. The more blackberries she ate herself, the longer she'd take to fill the basket, and the longer she'd need to stay out in the sun. But she couldn't resist the temptation. The berries hung amid the thorns, juicy and succulent. She thrust her hand back into the bush, and grabbed a couple more. The thorns scratched, but the prize was worth it. The sweet, tart taste ran over her tongue. Delightful. But her fingers were now sticky with berry juice, and the sweat was running again. And there were the flies, hovering and buzzing. Never mind her miserably half-full basket. This was hotter than last summer, by far. Or any of the seventeen other summers of her life.  Maybe it was the terrible lack of wind. Other times, the salty tang from the south – the sea lay two days' donkey-ride from her village – might have relieved Iris' pain. But today? The air hung like a hazy and listless shroud. To be trapped outside on such an afternoon, why, it was like being cooked alive inside a brazen maze. A maze choked with bushes and thorns. Iris gritted her teeth. A plan formed in her mind. The festivities of Sungit were yet tomorrow night. She could nap in the shade for a few hours, at least until the coolness of evening. Then she'd fill her basket, and hurry home. Her mother might grumble, but her mother wasn't out in the afternoon heat. She was bowing and scraping before Sungit's stone altar, along with all the other mothers. So long as Iris delivered a basketful of blackberries by nightfall, that was what mattered.  Besides, the visiting Priest ate half the fruit offerings before the ceremony, and the goddess never seemed to mind. Sungit felt generous these days. The harvest had not failed in a full twelve years, and the grain ran plentiful.   Iris' heart fluttered, as she glanced around her. There was no-one in sight, nor could she hear anyone talking or singing. Perhaps everyone else thought similarly: the day was just too hot.    

This month's patron-funded story is In the Tower Tangled by Lynne Sargent.  It's narrated by Jo Bennett. For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class    

This month's patron-funded story is Leviathan by Steven Guy.  It's narrated by Vivienne Ferrari. For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class Can you draw out Leviathan with a fishhook or press down his tongue with cord? Can you put a rope in his nose or pierce his jaw with a hook? Will he make many pleas to you? Will he speak to you soft words? Will he make a covenant with you to take him for your servant forever? Will you play with him as with a bird, or will you put him on a leash for your girls?” Job 41:1 - 5 A week before Lent a star fell from heaven. The light of its burning lit the sister's bedroom through their window and woke them from a deep and dreamless sleep. Christine leapt from the bed and pressed her face to the window.  A miracle, she cried. A miracle that we should see a star fall. Her sister stayed by the bed and took to her knees in prayer. It has landed not far, Christine shouted. Perhaps in the pasture near to the river. Come. Run. Let us find it. A star falls from heaven - it will be of silver and gold. We are newly rich. Her sister shook her head and remained upon her knees. It is an evil omen sister, she whispered, to see such a star fall. Close your eyes. Remember your prayers. But Christine took her sister by the hand and led her out, both still in the thin shifts they slept in. Spring was not yet in bloom and it was cold. Their breath hung in a thousand tiny crystals as they ran to the pasture near the river. The smell of smoke was in the air and just as they ran out of breath and began to walk, they found a man – or rather, they found a man of sorts. He lay on his side at the end of a deep furrow that smelled both a little of wet earth and of a blacksmith's forge. The furrow was no doubt from the mighty fury of his fall and he was unconscious and curled up like a child. His skin was a peculiar red in color – he seemed to be burnt or dyed to some shade between ochre and aubergine. His feet were blackened stumps and his hands black too, save for his palms which were the grey color of ash. On the whole, he looked charred, like the wood at the bottom of the charcoal maker's pit, and yet his chest rose and fell. He was alive and breathed like a man.    

This month's patron-funded story is Dragon Enough by Genevieve Amsterdam.  It's narrated by Vic. For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class  

This month's free story is "Sacrifice" by J Aster. It's narrated by Chooch Schubert. For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class    

This month's patron-funded story is "Apple of Sodom" by Plangdi Neple.  It's narrated by Bisi Alimi. For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class    

This month's story is "Three Installs" a cyborg threesome story by Genevieve Amsterdam, narrated by Louise Cooksey.  Our sponsors for this episode are BLOOM Intimate Audio Stories Use promo code "NOBILIS" to save 50% on a premium subscription! and  The Sisters of Rapture RPG supplement.  Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class  For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign.

This month's story is "The Lion Tamer" by Cecilia Tan.  It's narrated by Vivienne Ferrari. This episode is sponsored by BLOOM Intimate Audio Stories Use promo code "NOBILIS" to save 50% on a premium subscription! and  The Sisters of Rapture RPG supplement. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Yes, Steven, yes, feel the power of the blood. You must control it or it will control you. I circle him slowly, and his blindfolded eyes still turn toward me, like a flower blindly following the sun. He cannot move his head far, not with his wrists bound above his head. His cheek meets his upper arm as I pass behind him, swishing the whip as I go.  I continue around, and he turns his face toward the other side, listening to the slight whisper of the leather tail against the floor and the steady, slow tap of my heels. How much of him at this moment is animal, instinctively following the sounds of danger... or maybe the scent of food, of my blood? And how much of him is intelligent being, calculating when I will strike, anticipating what I will say, and how to react?  I brush a gloved finger over his bare nipple and he moans, a sound that seems to send a vibration straight between my legs. He is so hungry right now, not for blood--he's had plenty of that--but for everything I have promised. Control, discipline, ecstasy, and release. A fine sheen of red appears on his chest. His body still reacts much the way a normal 28-year-old man's would, only now he has only blood instead of sweat, only blood instead of semen or tears. I cluck my tongue. "Control the blood," I whisper, for that is what he is here to prove he can do.    

This month's patron-funded story is Pasiphae's Lover by Stephani Maari Booker.  It's narrated by Violet Jade. For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class      

This month's patron-funded story is "One Summer Evening" by A. N. Tate.  It's narrated by Nobilis Reed. This episode is sponsored by Literotica.  For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class      

This month's patron-funded story is Feeling Sheepish by Eccho Steem.  It's narrated by Ophelia Offenhauser. For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class I have the greatest master who ever lived. He's always so nice and gentle with me. Ever since I was a little lamb girl. Especially now when it comes to shearing day. I love days like these so much. Not only do I get the satisfaction of being sheared, but if I'm good, I get a little reward from him. And it just so happens that both of the criterias have been met. I sit on my little stool, patiently waiting for him to prepare his shears. Once he does, he pets me on the head and says, “Ready?” “Yeah,” I answer back with a giggle, “Now, remember, it's still early, so we're gonna need to be really quiet, ok?” “Yes, master.” “Good.” He turns on the shears and gets started. It's always a remarkable sensation. Especially when it starts. They're cold, but not unbearable, they vibrate, but because of certain adjustments that he's made to them, it feels more like a massage, and words can't begin to express the feeling of the air on my newly exposed skin. It's otherworldly. He glides the shears from my back to my neck, scraping off the wool from my body. He then takes a moment to trim my hair to the style that I like, a short French bob with bangs. He really is the best. When he's done with that, he stands me up, moving on to my legs and working up to my butt, watching out for my tail as he knows that it's the one part that I don't want to be sheared.

This month's patron-funded story is The Love you Make by David Hill.  It's narrated by Scottie Calif. This episode is sponsored by Literotica.  For an ad-free version of this podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class Harriet wasn't frightened by the close encounter—at least, honestly, not very much—because she had seen it all before in the movies and on television: the blinding lights in the sky stabbing down toward her car, the problems with the ignition, the headlights, and the other electrical circuitry. The trembling of the earth beneath her tires, the feeling that what she was experiencing was all a dream. Even though, of course, it wasn't. What did surprise her was that, after the whole passé rigmarole was over, she hadn't been abducted. No alien implants, no pointless medical experimentation, no bizarre attempts at communication. The only departure from script—the only thing out of the ordinary—was that, as the ship rose into the night sky on pillars of blue light, one bright beam pointed to the asphalt in front of her Toyota, calling her attention to a small metallic object that had evidently been deposited there just for her. She got out of the car, picked the thing up, and brought it home. “What do you think it is?” she asked John after describing the strange episode along Pennington Road. “Sure looks like a cock to me,” he answered. Which it did, being about six inches long and tubular, with two small oval attachments on one end and a tiny vertical slot on the other. “Be serious.” “Seriously, Harriet. Maybe it's some kind of alien dildo. Or maybe it's an extraterrestrial pocket comb. Who knows? If you want, I'll take it into town and drop it off with the police. Could be they might figure out what the damned thing is.” Harriet shook her head, reluctant to relinquish possession of the alien artifact, no matter what it eventually turned out to be. This question intrigued her for the remainder of the evening. After John left for the ten-to-six shift, she abandoned her usual boring routine of sitcoms, news, and late-night talk shows. Instead she sat on the couch and fiddled with the thing. She turned it over in her hands, wondering what it was, who had made it, how it was used, where it was from, why it had been left there on the road for her. Her husband's observation stuck in her mind, though, and she couldn't stop herself from thinking that, yes, the object truly did resemble a penis—albeit a stylized one made out of metal with a matte silver finish. Moreover, she observed, it looked remarkably like John's very own, being somewhat tapered and almost exactly identical in length. This made her feel nostalgic. And a little randy, too, since—what with the difference in their timetables now that John was working nights—it had been quite a while since their last romantic entanglement. As a matter of fact, Harriet couldn't exactly put her finger on just when they'd made love recently. Definitely not within the past couple of weeks. Had a month or more really gone by? She tried to remember. The very effort of recollection hammered home the point that too long had passed. She ultimately focused on an evening not too different from this one, except that she wasn't alone. He was there with her, and it was more than obvious what he had on his mind as he caressed her in long, slow, masterful shuddering strokes from shoulder to haunch.

This month's free story is "The Place Where Heroes are Made" by Sarah Ellis, narrated by Dee Reed. Our sponsor this month is Literotica. For an ad-free version of the podcast, support us on Patreon.  

This month's story is "Anything but That" by TammyJo Eckhart, narrated by Vivienne Ferrari. This episode is sponsored by Literotica. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class “That can't be,” Darina's whisper froze in her chest as the creature inside the cell snarled and snapped its huge teeth in her direction. She pressed her back against the cool stone wall of the basement and slid down to sit on the floor. She tried to control her breathing, but she just couldn't seem to get a breath at all, because there was a knot in her throat. As her eyes adjusted to the dim lights, she identified the creature; a huge wolf, “far bigger than any wolf should be,” her rational mind mused. She realized she was overthinking it and calmed down. She released her breath and took a slow deep one. Using techniques she trained into her submissives when they panicked, she counted out three slow breaths, but her body seemed frozen. “Jesus!” she gasped as the beast thrashed wildly, throwing its body around yet barely moving. Why wasn't it getting any closer to the bars of the cell? She counted her breathing as she watched it struggle. It finally slumped down and stopped moving. Its heavy, ragged breathing was loud in her ears. Its huge head and gaping fanged mouth turned toward her, and it took in a shuddering breath, nostrils flaring. Was it smelling her? The creature made a whimpering sound and turned its head and the rest of its body awkwardly from her. Darina found her body suddenly free, but she just sat there staring until the beast glanced back at her, whimpering once more before tucking its head as best it could between its chest and the arm farthest from her. “Is it afraid of me?” Fight. Flight. Freeze. “Primal responses exist not just in humans, but animals, too,” her brain supplied the facts as she got her legs under her. She pressed her hands against the wall to help her stand up. The creature flinched as she stood up. It whined as she took one, then two steps closer. How long were its arms, and was that the right word? Where must she stop so it couldn't reach her if it came at the bars? She took another step, then decided caution was better. Normally she was cautious when approaching new experiences or relationships. She grasped onto her new sub, the reason she was here, to help calm down.

This month's free episode is "Something in the Way" by Amelia Coulon, narrated by Jo Bennett. It's sponsored by the Literotica Podcast.  Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class at your favorite ebook retailer, or get the Monster Whisperer, Second Class Audiobook on Amazon, Audible, or Apple. 

This month's patron-funded story is "Carnival of Sensation" by Nobilis Reed.  It's narrated by the author. If you want an ad-free version of the podcast, support the patreon campaign. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class Gruss had been studying the gravitational fluxes of black hole 459 dash 54 for several hundred thousand seconds when Fandel appeared.  “The secret,” he said, dropping into orbit around Gruss with an abrupt bending of space, “Is authenticity.”  That is to say, he expressed his thoughts in quantum encoded radio pulses.  “It's not a secret if you tell everyone,” said Gruss, “And you tell everyone. Find someone else to tell, you're warping the event horizon and spoiling my measurements”  Fandel continued undeterred by the observation. “That's why it's so important to go back to Origin. For authenticity.” His spherical outer shell glowed in the infrared, absorbing all other frequencies.   Fandel had always been a glutton.  Gruss shifted the neutronium plates of their armature, altering the surface albedo to reflect light away from Fandel, a dismissive gesture. “When do you leave?” they asked, with a tone that indicated they hoped it would be soon. “Oh, right away,” replied Fandel. “Just as soon as I've stored enough energy.”  “Well, don't let me slow you down,” said Gruss, altering their armatures once again in order to eclipse Fandel as little as possible. “Thing is, I was hoping…”  Gruss didn't step into the gap in the conversation. Instead, they let it hang for almost an entire second.  “I was hoping you would come with me.” “Why in the name of all that's radiant, would you hold any hope at all in that event?” Fandel warped again, dropping into an even closer orbit, now close enough that Gruss could feel the gravity differential slightly warping his armatures. “You're the only one of my friends who has never come to a carnival, and…” Gruss cut Fandel off with a burst of radio static. “I assure you, that is not true.” “What? No, if you had been to one, I would have known…” “No,” said Gruss. “The ‘friend' part.” Fandel took on spin. “Oh Gruss, you're such a kidder.” “I'm not going with you. It's a meaningless excursion to a meaningless planet. Origin hasn't had any relevance since the Upload.” “It's where we came from! It's always relevant. Come with me, you'll understand.  Authenticity.” “First of all, no, second of all, my mass is several orders of magnitude greater than Origin and I'd warp its structure just by dropping into orbit, third, no.”  “Well, of course we're not going to go there like this,” Fandel scoffed. “That would be pointless. We're sending delegates.” “I do not fork my consciousness,” said Gruss. “That leads to…whatever it is that's gotten into you.” “That won't be necessary. Your delegate will be a remote.  I just got the tech from Shoover. It's just like creating a forked delegate, except instead of a brain, the remote has a real-time transceiver, broadstreaming anywhere within ten thousand light-seconds.”  “They got an RTT small enough to exist on a terrestrial planet surface?” “I know, they said it was impossible, but Shoover managed it. Here, look.” Fandel opened a high gain multiwave antenna and beamed the idea to Gruss, who spent several seconds reviewing the details, adjusting their armatures several times in contemplation. “Pretty neat, huh?  It uses the planet's magnetic field as a resonator!” “I will admit, this tech has promise,” said Gruss.  “Great. We can use my printer.” Fandel transmitted the timesynched coordinates and the encoding protocol. “Alright, I'll go—but only because I want to try out this tech.” Fandel spun up even faster. “You're not going to regret this!” By the time the two of them arrived at Origin, Gruss already regretted it.

This month's patron-funded story is "Biohazard" by Victoria Frost, narrated by Eleanor O'Brien.  Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class Although the junior adjudicators liked to go out for drinks after work, it didn't mean they weren't as boring and pretentious while lounging in the mixed quarter and drinking galactic drinks as they were in the Hall of Justice. U'elh sighed, sipping her drink, and gazed out over the bar, watching Ma'elhian and Humans avoid each other or, very occasionally, mingle. To her surprise, at the bar she spotted a familiar jawline. She waited until the woman turned. It was her. Last week, a Human murderer had been brought to face Ma'elhian judgement. He was accompanied by two Human guards: one a male in a bulky jacket and gloves, and the other a young female, with a strong jaw and watchful eyes, showing no sign that she felt the Hall of Justice's usual chill. Usually, there was little reason for Humans to enter the Hall of Justice. They had their own courts and took responsibility for the behavior of their own citizens. But in this case the Ma'elhr clan concerned was not satisfied with Human justice, and the Humans felt enough distaste for the situation that they allowed the transfer of responsibility for the prisoner to the Ma'elhr Adjudicators. “Monsters,” the prisoner spat at the sight of the Ma'elhian. U'elh sympathized with his pain. His sister had died horribly, and a Ma'elhr had caused her death. However, as an Adjudicator, U'elh was wary of thinking that the Ma'elhr was "at fault" for her death. Yes, he had infected the girl with his symbiote, but she didn't know the circumstances of their liaison, and neither did the murderer. Had the girl claimed to be on anti-microbial pills? Had there been an unfortunate accident with the tool the Humans called a 'condom'? Or had the Ma'elhr been one of the ugly and cruel who reveled in the power given to them by biological accident, the ones who intentionally spread death with their seed? But the two principal parties were dead, and no one was left to answer those questions.

This extra episode is provided courtesy of the Hallowed Covenant crowdfunding campaign on Indiegogo.  Find them at: https://www.indiegogo.com/at/hallowedcovenant

Greetings, listeners! Today, I am announcing a reorganization of the Nobilis Erotica podcast and patreon campaign. In doing this, I'm asking you to step up, and help me do something I've needed to do for quite some time.  The support tiers have been the same for seven years, and a lot has changed over that time, including in the world of erotic audio.  Quite frankly, the rate that I pay voice talent is just too low. I can get narrators, as you've heard, but the rate I'm paying them is a fraction of what they deserve. The going rate for story narration of an hour or less is at the bare minimum two hundred dollars, but with the current podcast budget, I can only afford fifty. The first change will be that Nobilis Erotica will be accepting advertising.  I have had a few sponsored shows in the past, but now each episode will be available for advertisers. Patrons will have access to an ad-free version in the Patreon feed. The sponsors will be vetted by me personally—nothing programmatically added without my supervision—so hopefully the ads will be interesting and relevant.  In addition, starting in September, the monthly bonus audio will be for patrons at the three dollar tier and higher. The one dollar tier will give access to the Discord, but will have no other benefits. Polls will be run at the five dollar tier.If my one dollar patrons step up and crank their pledges to three dollars per month, I'll have enough money to pay one hundred dollars to voice talent.  Adding advertising will hopefully make up the difference. With that, and perhaps some of the free listeners coming on board to get the ad-free version, we can make this work.  And if you're already at three or five dollars, and you can afford to increase your patronage, that would help too.  Together, we can make the Nobilis Erotica podcast respectable. Heh. Who am I kidding?  We can make it more respectable. Thank you all for your support. Without you, none of what I've been able to do here would have been possible.

This month's patron-funded story is A Star in the Rough by Lex B Griffin.  It's narrated by Nobilis Reed. Support the Nobilis Erotica Podcast Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class Excerpt:  The JK-10P was a machine quite unlike anything else on the market. Originally a bit of an experimental flop due to the number of oddities in its design, it was meant as 'an exciting, one of a kind solo-driving experience' and configured to mimic a number of now extinct earth animals, none of which had ever been suitable for humans to ride in the first place.  It was a commodity, but… one that apparently no one wanted…  That was just because the things were mind-bogglingly difficult to maneuver.  It took months, even years of training and practice to adapt to the rocking, leaping, and lunging motions the JK-10Ps – or Jackalopes as they came to be known – used to get around. They were excellent for rocky terrain, and an expert rider could make them look elegant in the air.  It's no wonder they became a sport within just a decade of their invention, and just barely fifteen years after the official league association formed, they were invited to the olympics in New Sanfran. Coincidentally, a city of even steeper hills than its namesake.  Anton walked the course the day before the race, eyes wide and mouth agape. It wasn't even traversable on foot. Large rocky outcroppings, uneven straightaways. The Jackalope would eat up the terrain for sure, but if the gravel shifted unexpectedly… Anton would have to pay careful attention to make sure he didn't wipe out at the worst possible moment. It was perfect. Just outside the city, where there weren't even roads to smooth the way, peaks and valleys – those pockets of straight aways would let you coax your metal beast into a loping sprint, hands gripped to the 'antler-bars' while your body rode the writhing waves of your steed.  Anton's excitement just to be here was only beaten by his nerves. He was new to the senior league, and this would be only his third appearance on the interstellar circuit. His anxiety was understandable, dammit. "You'll do great out there tomorrow," Yulia, his girlfriend said, back in their room, calm and patient. She was always the more level-headed of the two of them. Anton loved her utterly for her support, he did, but this time… the olympics were a big deal. He was so early in his career. He could- "Hush, now," Yulia said again, petting a hand over Anton's shoulder. "Listen to me." Anton did, blinking and turning to face Yulia, rapt with attention. "Tomorrow, you're going to go out there, and you're going to ride that monster you call Stella-" Anton chuckled, he loved his girl, even if her paint job was a little retro. "And you're going to make every jump, and you're going to wow everyone with your skill and your attention to detail and your focus. And you're going to be proud of that run. That's your only goal. It's your first appearance, you don't need to medal right out the gate. There'll be other chances." Yulia pressed a kiss to Anton's brow. "And what if I do medal?" Anton teased, knowing Yulia was probably right. "Hmm…" Yulia pet a speculative hand down Anton's arm and across his belly. "How about this… I'm going to stroke you now, until you're just shy of coming-" Anton hissed, oh fuck… he knew where this was going… "And tomorrow, if you're a Good Boy, and do as you're told, then you'll get to come."

This month's patron-funded story is "Ghost of Leather Past" by Kat Griffiths, narrated by Jem of the Love at First Sighting podcast. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class

This month's patron-funded story is "The Hands of a Princess" by Emily L. Byrne.  It's narrated by Christiana Ellis. Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class

Here is the second part of "Where I End and We Begin" by Bernie Mojzes, narrated by myself and Vivienne Ferrari. Support us on Patreon Pick up Monster Whisperer, Second Class

This month we have part one of the tentacle sex breeding story, "Where I End and We Begin" by Bernie Mojzes, narrated by Nobilis Reed and Vivienne Ferrari. Background audio comes from Tabletop Audio and The Freesound Project. Support the podcast at the Patreon Campaign. Pick up "Monster Whisperer: Second Class" at Riverdale Avenue Books or wherever you get ebooks. 

This is the second and final part of "To Market" by Elizabeth Schechter, narrated by Nobilis Reed. Support the podcast on Patreon Get your copy of Monster Whisperer Second Class  

This episode brings us part one of "To Market" by Elizabeth Schechter, narrated by Nobilis Reed.  The second part of the story will be posted in early January. Remember to pick up your copy of Monster Whisperer: Second Class 

A con panel without the con, on the topic of erotic tentacles with Franklin Veaux and Eunice Hung, co-authors of the Passionate Pantheon novel series, and myself, author of the Monster Whisperer series..  

This month's patron-funded story is "Moonlit Tidal Wave" by Nyla Lustre, narrated by Jo Bennett.  My consentacle novel, "Monster Whisperer: Second Class" has been released in print and ebook by Riverdale Avenue Books!  Buy at that link, or search for "Monster Whisperer Second Class" on your favorite ebook retailer.

This month's patron-funded story is "Infernal Machine" by Elizabeth Schechter.  This is a gay steampunk inadvertent bondage story.  Narrated by Nobilis Reed

The September patron-funded story is "The Antidote" by Lisabet Sarai, narrated by Louise Cooksey. “Yeah, I can get it—well, I can tell you where to get it. But it's expensive.” Merle and I huddled together on the bench in the 52nd story roof garden of the New Sears Building where we worked. Even here, talking was risky. There were certainly cameras, but mikes were less likely out in the open.  “I've been saving. How much do you think it will cost?” Merle named a figure four times what I had squirreled away.  “Gads, Merle! It's not gold!” “No, it's more valuable than gold. What do you expect? People will pay almost anything for the forbidden.” I blinked and looked away, not wanting her to see my incipient tears. After a few deep breaths, I thought I could continue the conversation without embarrassing myself. My friend wasn't fooled. “You really want this, don't you, Lena?” “More than anything.” It was true. I'd been experimenting on my own trying to reverse the effects of the government's anti-sex interventions, with no success at all.  No one knew exactly how the drugs were delivered. I went two days eating nothing, drinking only rainwater gathered on our unit's balcony. The fact that Jeff traveled so much for his job had made it easier. I just waited until he was away on one of his trips. Then, physically weak but determined, I hacked through the net filters to one of the most notorious underground porn sites, hosted, according to Merle, in Kazakhstan.  Nothing. I felt nothing. I watched the contortions of the naked bodies, the penetrations and the climaxes, and felt no desire, only a vague, painful sense of loss.

This month's patron-funded story is "Diplomacy" by Emily L Byrne, narrated by Violet Jade.  Captain Bridget O'Halloran smoothed her dress uniform and polished her medals with one sleeve before she pressed the glowing button that would allow her to enter Admiral Chen's office. She managed not to run a hand through her short red hair before she pressed the button, but only just. The doors slid open and she inhaled deeply before stepping through them in a futile effort to relax.  The admiral's office was just as she remembered it: grey and spartan with only the comp unit's glow casting any direct light. “Done,” the admiral barked at it and the glow faded to a muted blue. “Lights!” The office flickered into a startling brightness. “O'Halloran!” The admiral's dark eyes took in her brisk salute and her medals with a “Humph! All right, Captain. At ease.” She relaxed her spine slightly and stood awaiting his orders, a wary look on her face. What did the old coot want this time? Last time she'd been in here, 3 cycles ago, it was because she'd volunteered to infiltrate the Lyrizi navy as an agent. She'd succeeded but the cost had been high. The burn scar that ran the length of her ribs throbbed a little at the memory. Chen gave her a fierce glare. “All right, Captain. We've only got a few minutes. There's trouble again in the Arment system about the selerinite clauses in the treaty.” He paused as if he wanted to see if she was still paying attention. Bridget stood up a little straighter, copper brows drawn together in a sharp frown. “Without the selerinite our ships will be grounded within two Earth months. This is what we went to war with the Lyrizi to prevent. So you're sending us to Arment to deal with it?” “Not you. Let me make myself clear, O'Halloran. The Confederation Council has appointed a new ambassador and a diplomatic team to resolve the matter. I can't say I approve of their choice but then, they didn't ask me. Just drop them off and give them any support they need. Don't let your personal feelings get in the way. That clear?”  The door slid open behind Bridget with a nearly silent hiss. She forced herself not to look directly at the intruder until ze stopped beside her. Not like she could see anything past the other's hood anyway. She shifted her weight, wondering what kind of ambassador came with a warning label from her commander. Chen got a lot more formal. “Captain O'Halloran, you have your orders. This is Hight Isandre, the Confederation's new ambassador to Arment. Once you arrive at Arment, you will provide all necessary support for her and the rest of her team before returning to base. No nonregulation maneuvers this time.”  Bridget let the tiniest of smiles curl her lips and saluted with vigor. Hight, huh? And a female, too. That was a surprise. From the gossipvids, she always figured that Highborn women of any galactic species spent all their time getting gene modifications and sampling every mind-altering substance in the galaxy. Admiral Chen scowled at her, breaking into her thoughts. “Yes sir!” He nodded his dismissal and she turned smartly and left, the ambassador at her heels. Once the door shut behind them, she turned to get her first good look at her passenger and almost yelled in surprise. Greenie her mind screamed and she nearly reached for her blaster, hands shaking just a little. The Lyrizi female looked back at her from gorgeous amber eyes that nearly glowed under pale green eyebrows against a background of dark green skin. One of those eyebrows quirked upward as the captain tried to recover her composure.

This episode is an excerpt from the audiobook "Mind Games" by Cecilia Tan, narrated by Freya Copeland, available exclusively on Scribd.

This month's Patron-funded story is "Solitaire" by M. Christian, narrated by Nobilis Reed. We've made a bunch of progress toward the goal of funding a two-part full-cast recording of a brand new story by Bernie Mojzes, but we still need your help!  Join up at the Nobilis Erotica Patreon campaign.

Here is a taste of what you will be able to find in the Nobilis Erotica patreon campaign. This is chapter 1 of my erotic transformation serial, "My Wild Card."

June's Patron-funded story is"Like a Bat Out of Hell", a kinky straight short by A T Lander.  It's narrated by Vivienne Ferrari. This month, I'm also announcing an ambitious new project; this fall I will be producing a new two-part story by Bernie Mojzes, the brilliant author of "Ink" which we presented back in episode 263.  It's going to take a lot to produce it, however, as it includes a huge orgy with two tentacle monsters and a bunch of humans, so it really needs a full cast recording. If we can get the Patreon campaign up to $300 by the end of July, this can happen.  Hell was horrible. Of course it was supposed to be horrible for the damned souls trapped there. All the screaming and torture and everything else went with the territory, and every demon in the place seemed to love it. Every demon but Aerys. She hated the stink of sulfur, the baking heat of the lava pits, the sounds coming from the torture chambers. She wasn't squeamish, per se, but she felt none of the sadistic joy her fellows clearly did at human suffering. She just wanted a cup of tea, a pretty dress, maybe some flowers or a bath with lavender soap. She'd seen such things in the mortal realm on her brief visits, but could never have them in Hell, never even speak of them. If Aerys's inner softness, her dislike for killing and desire for comfort was discovered, she would go from respected Greater Demon to some Prince's weakling torture-toy. So Aerys pretended. She wore armor of leather and spikes, cackled as evilly as she could manage and hoped every moment to get summoned to the mortal realm. She was usually just giving people money, power or one less enemy to worry about, but it was still a break from the stink and the screams and the stress of faking her own enjoyment. The latest summoning was powerful and precise, tugging Aerys from a flame-wreathed promenade and into a cool, candle-lit room. She breathed a soft sigh, smelling incense, dried herbs, ink and musty parchment; the scents of a wizard's workshop. Hopefully her summoner would want her for complex magical advice or killing someone on another continent, anything that would let her bask in this realm for a decent amount of time. Speaking of her summoner, he looked surprisingly young and handsome for one so skilled. He had long blonde hair in a messy ponytail, intense blue eyes and high, regal cheekbones. Long, clever fingers held his arcane tome, and his frame was tall and slim. The wind of her appearance ruffled his floor-length robes and made the candles flicker, but he didn't even blink. She'd always had a thing for human men, but this one was so gorgeous it was unfair.

This month's Patron-funded story is "It Came from Beneath" by Louis Evans, narrated by Meredith Matthews. When the clitoris rose more than two stories high from the San Francisco Bay, someone called the National Guard. The fighter jets screamed out of the southeast, and sonic booms rippled across the city skyline. The clitoris rippled too. Possibly with pleasure? Colonel Buck Harder, who was watching the clitoris through binoculars from an emergency command post atop the TransAmerica pyramid--San Francisco’s tallest building, and also, fortuitously, its most phallic--had no idea what the spasms meant. “God damn it, men,” he screamed at his all-male staff, “what is that thing?” It was obviously a clitoris. I mean, obviously. It was, at this point, nearly fifteen stories tall, largely erect, and completely well defined. Aside from its size, it could have come right out of an anatomy textbook, or a pornographic photoshoot with those uncomfortably invasive camera angles. Any human being with eyes who was familiar with the appearance of a clitoris would have gotten it instantly. They would have said, “oh, yes, that’s a giant clitoris.” “For the love of god, what is it?” the colonel cried.  The men muttered, sounding collectively like a failing outboard motor. The California National Guard was stumped.

This month's patron-funded story is a multisexual tale of two super-intelligent quantum systems by M. Christian. It's pretty hot. It’s not easy to say when, exactly, Hirronata Autonomous Suborbital Manufacturing Platform #8, located at the furthest-most point on the Main Equatorial Celestron Tether, fell in love with Tlachtga, the level 9 (on the Klein Autonomous Intelligence Index) system managing the Nous Colony of Wingspread in the region that had, some 50 years previously, been commonly known as Anchorage, Alaska, fell in love. The flirting between the two had started innocently enough: a shifting digit or two in a Product Shipping Assembly Order, a certain amount of what could almost be called sashaying in a parachute-delivered cargo drop, that, in time, led to what could have been called clearer signals: at least, that is, to a pair of ultra-high-level quantum computational systems. Hirronata Autonomous Suborbital Manufacturing Platform #8, for instance, slipped into its burst-transmitted catalog update which was dismissed by the few humans who still bothered to pay attention to such things, a repeated item listing of a Waveform Integrated Network Kernal (“Wink Wink”). Tlachtga, in response, “accidentally”--which is what any resident of the Colony would have chalked it up if they’d even noticed it occurring--caused a one second, 2-degree, temperature increase in one of the largest of the geometrically roofed environs it oversaw: a pinkish-hued, and very evident, blush clearly visible to anything in orbit, in particular anything that might happen to be at the end of the Main Equitorial Celestron Tether.

This month's patron-funded story is "Heart's Thief" by Emily L. Byrne, narrated by Lauren B. Harris. Welcome to our newest patron, Cleo! Call the voicemail line at (571)297-3325 Ashara slipped through the window, pulling her hook and rope in behind her. The gesture came so easily it was as if she hadn’t just had to climb the wall and pick the lock. All around her, the room was still and dark as an abyss and the night breeze sent a light shiver over her exposed arms. She wondered why she sensed no guards, no magical alarms.  After all, she had come for the Heart of El Kyraz, a ruby big as a man’s fist. It was said that the stone had great powers if one had the strength to command it. Surely a gem merchant of Sher Kalia’s status would at least have mortal guards to protect such a jewel. Rumor held that she’d had one of the most famous wizards in the city as her lover. She’d have asked for wards, have asked him to send the cold blue light of his power around her most cherished possessions. The price of such protection would have been nothing more than pillow talk to someone as wealthy as Kalia.