Vorentacle

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November 10, 2011

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Flesh Pit of Horror and Lust

----- This was a comic book practice before the making of a marketable story. It was quite fun making it. The new resolution I have about it had me making this like it's an 8 hours a day full-time job for 3 weeks, and then I had to stretch out a couple of weeks with how many hours I can spend because I had to get a job to pay the bills and etc. Feedback is appreciated, such as what I have done well, how I may improve, more ideas, and general thoughts.

Gallery Links & Guidelines

Hi. This post is to help you navigate my currently active profiles and galleries. Some information may change. It's one of those "pinned post" if you will. Or the closest thing to it on Blogger. - Blogger : You're here! This is my current main gallery for all image and text posts or their hybrid format or major update posts. No videos here. But they are linked to other sites with video supports. Weaker community support, sadly. No comment notification, no direct messages. - DeviantArt : https://www.deviantart.com/vorentacle My first gallery and currently the main community site. Had the earliest posts and most things after that weren't admin-deleted. Community support is very strong and diverse. - Twitter (or X) : https://twitter.com/vorentacle Good community support and simplified gallery. Sometime posting smaller updates, rants, WIPs, and doodles. Noisy media, as you may know, and text limit not long enough to write a full story. - Pixiv : https://www.pixiv.n...

Living-Room

There was an unusual bonus for this house sitting job thanks to her computer engineering degree. The owner was particularly adamant about the security and wanted someone who could handle the rather obscene amount of techs guarding the otherwise mundane house. She didn’t think much of it. Her excitement was more about a well-paid vacation to a beach-side town for a couple of weeks and a quieter space to read the books she found in the local library, some of which included paranormal erotica. They were delightful reminders of the cultural differences from her home. The owner only requested not to open one door in the living room. The one without any window. On the third morning, waking up groggy and dehydrated from the night before, she flailed around and went for the closest door to her bedroom, the door that was not to be opened. A mass of living flesh filled the entire entrance, perhaps the entire room behind it. The heat dispersed from it made her reel. Thoug...

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