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SYNOPSIS
The second volume of space vixen Sanoon Sarem’s memoirs, comprising three episodes previously published separately:
SANOON SAREM - KAMATRA
GODDESS OF THE BLACK HOLE
SANOON SAREM - PLEASURAMA
The story begins with Sanoon’s ill fated attempt to rescue the FUKMEDED pirates, which landed her on the remote asteroid named Hollywood rock where she had to find work as a topless (and often bottomless) waitress in order to survive. She was soon recruited into the KAMATRA expedition where it was her job description to placate newly discovered alien races with some inter-species shagging. Needless to say everything went arse-up for Sanoon.
Things went from bad to worse for Sanoon after that with her then imprisoned on planet Vashnal, which might not sound so bad except for the fact that females are only released after their bosoms have been stretched down to a pre-set limit. (Ouch, said Sanoon.) Saved only by a timely transfer to a space salvage tug, Sanoon gets into further trouble when a strange race inhabiting a city around the event horizon of a black hole mistake her private parts for a sign and treat her like a goddess.
Sanoon is in dire need of a holiday after these wild adventures but even the sex-mad pleasure planet of Pleasurama turns out to be less than inviting for our girl.
Told with wit and style by Sanoon herself, SHAGGED IN SPACE is a 48,000 word space opera which sends our Human heroine open legged into the strange depths of the universe.
EXTRACT
On a roll now, we made contact with our third potential clients after another day spent
aboard the EXPRESS. It was now that I really started to earn my keep.
Cartosan quickly got on the wavelength of the language and we were able to communicate
the reason for our arrival. The natives, identified as Yangars, were, if you could ignore
their heads, almost human in size and shape, but their wide mouths and almost lack of nose
gave them a cruel and somewhat creepy air. Daragoon, with Cartosan in tow to translate,
were quickly ushered off to a nearby dwelling where no doubt the whole negotiating process
would take its course. So far, although I had been obliged to do my standard bending over
routine to show we were friendly sorts, I hadn’t been taken, because all of the locals we
had come across so far had been females.
And what examples of the female form they were too. If you could ignore the head, and
did I mention the pale green skin tone, they had wonderful bodies.
If you were into full rounded bottoms curving out from narrow waists then this was the
place for you. If your fancy was for ripe breasts with huge square suckable nipples and
enormous areolas, then head for this moon together with the bottom fanciers. In fact those
females were almost universally as far as I could see fantastically well put together, and
the reason I was able to comment so clearly on their various attributes was that none of
them wore anything more substantial than a slim black loincloth which hung down from a
thin cord low around their hips to cover a sliver of their buttocks and their pubis.
Maybe we had accidentally landed at some national gathering of their best looking
chicks, or maybe they all looked like this. One had to wonder however where all the guys
were.
Things began to get a little ugly when, without warning, I was grabbed by half a dozen
of the locals and carried struggling to a nearby stone frame where with obvious expertise
I was chained between the gaily decorated pillars hand and foot, losing what few clothes I
was wearing at the same time.
I complained loudly, but to no avail. Then one of the younger females arrived with a
bowl of steaming scented water and I found myself being carefully washed all over by two
of the Yangars. I could see the two guys settling down onto plush couches outside the
house in the company of several women, with Daragoon obviously making some, what appeared
to me, mild objection to the way I had been secured, but he appeared to be ignored.
While I was being cleaned up, I could see that Daragoon was meanwhile busily being
engaged in some intimate negotiations with one of the more buxom of the Yangars who, after
shedding her loincloth, was rubbing her naked body all over him. I guess under those
circumstances I could excuse him for not immediately noticing that the Yangars gathered
around me were beginning to act strange.
