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cheappunk.bsky.social
US podcast interview Terry+Herman on their Cheap ‘n’ Nasty+#punk bit.ly/3WHfGel @mccookerybook.bsky.social @punkademic.bsky.social @feministmusiclib.bsky.social @udkp.bsky.social @schnitzel63.bsky.social @shutupmusic.bsky.social @bulldog75.bsky.social @drkpopupconvos.bsky.social
YUH 228 - Cheap N Nasty with Terry and Herman
Cheap N Nasty is a Punk band from the 70's that was recently included on the compilation "Nederpunk the Early Years 1977-1982". Herman De Tollenaere, who you might recall from several Siouxsie and the Banshees episodes, shared lead vocal duties with his bandmate Terry, who was also the band's bassist and co-lyricist. #punkrock #cheapnnasty #siouxsieandthebanshees #thelous #netherlandspunk #rockandrollheaven YUH Theme by David T and Mojo 3 https://www.amazon.com/Insanity-Sobri... Nederpunk the Early Years 1977-1982 https://open.spotify.com/album/7zd8qghtXLRlmPAckTMZOe Cheap N Nasty EP Covergirl https://youtu.be/FeVkHYL3XCk?si=z8tSFtTqCMzGjBEv About Terry on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1iHhMtoPBQ/ Herman's page at Punktuation https://www.punktuationmag.com/author/herman-tollenaere/ PIN Magazine https://www.bacteria.nl/pin-4-english-edition/ The Antisocial Network https://www.youtube.com/@ASN4LIFE Yeah Uh Huh Social Stuff: Yeah Uh Huh on TikTok https://www.tiktok.com/@yeahuhhuhpod Yeah Uh Huh on Facebook https://facebook.com/YeahUhHuhPod Yeah Uh Huh on Twitter https://twitter.com/YeahUhHuhPod Yeah Uh Huh on Spotify https://open.spotify.com/show/7pS9l716ljEQLeMMxwihoS?si=27bd15fb26ed46aa Yeah Uh Huh on Apple Podcasts https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/yeah-uh-huh/id1565097611 Yeah Uh Huh Website: https://yeah-uh-huh.wixsite.com/yeahuhhuhpod
bit.ly
November 6, 2025 at 1:39 PM
wankaworm.bsky.social
CW: noncon, gender fuckery
#MonstrousMay Day 13: eggs. So you know I had to do it, couldn't say no, even though its a work day. (Word Count: 3,119)

#writesky #nsfwsky #erotichorror #dndsmut #nsfwwriting
He had disappointed her, the queen, the Goddess, his Goddess. Loret-mar had been a proud priestess in training of Lolth, had gone through the Trial of the Dryder, had whipped the skin off of the men who’s faith was too week. He knew the dangers of being a man, and thus, had hidden it away, had proved himself an indomitable believer. He had held the sinful, the weak, those that would not wear their claws and rent their subordinates, those that did not spread their legs to carry on their legacy of their spider brethren, those that worked against the tenets of Menzoberrabzen. It was rare when a woman went against the power given to her, and often, it was just to be held against the altar to Lolth and treated as low as any man, her quim locked away as her silver hair was sheared short, her breasts bound, her skin branded with the black spider, to put her back on the right path. A man in such a position would be bled dry, venom sent through his cock, as he was raped open on thick clubs, made to repeat the prayers of the temple, his house, and his mother. A man was worth nothing but what his cock and veins could supply. And yet, Loret-mar gazed upon the male form and felt nothing aside from envy. He wanted the flat chest. He wanted the drooling appendage. He felt wrong in the body that he had and he punished himself for it, whipping his cunt with the flogger until it bled, piercing long needles through his breasts, fucking his own ass on the same blood stained clubs that the dissenting body slaves were forced upon, looking at himself in the mirror, bare aside from the crown of his station. He was Lolth-Sworn. He was a priestess of the grand spider queen. He was resplendent. He was pure. He was born for power. But in his dreams he was out of Menzoberranzen, he was free, he was in a light that made no sense to him, but it did not burn him. Fel brought him his gown and crown, helping him off the pair of cocks that were within him and dressing him to the best of his ability, what for his height. The gown ended under the breast and had a cage of black corrugated metal for those hated mounds of flesh, lose but for a corset that held the translucent material tight to the body. He went to the sitting room and Var knelt on the floor next to him, suckling on one nipple while Yan waited by the other chair, awaiting Queen Mother. The moment that Queen Mother sat, nude aside from intricate silver spider legs and gems, Yan was between her legs, mouth open to hold her clit upon his tongue. Loret-mar was an excellent host, after all, and they drank wine and ate the finest of caramelized fungi as they spoke of the least important things that were intended for noble small talk. “There is a task I have come to bring you,” Queen Mother eventually admitted, “I know that you have your fold, that your faith is true, and that is why you are so integral to this mission. I need she who is of the most faith to go to The Fallen Web to give our Goddess the sweetest of gifts.” Loret-mar tilted his head and looked at Queen Mother, not understanding. “What is this gift? And who will look over my fold?” Queen Mother waved to her own slaves, a pair of twins wearing full black leather, so tight that it cut into the flesh. They had thick metal rings in their mouths, holding their lips away from their teeth and rings through their tongues, with which they were leashed and ready to be tugged. They held, between them, a fine chest. They brought it to Queen Mother and sat it before her, on Yan’s back. She procured a key to reveal the contents, spider silk, mushroom fluff, and a vial of blood. Loret-mar looked over the vial and waited for an explanation. “Please, I am only doing as Queen Mother demanded. What does it matter how I appear in my dreams?” “Your flesh is wrong,” the woman growled and the chittering sound of clacking mandibles grew all the worst, all the more terrible. “For this lie you will be punished. You wish for the masculine, may you suffer in it.” The woman grabbed Loret-mar’s breast, twisted and pulled, yanking the flesh from his body as he screamed. He was dressed in thick exoskeleton and he writhed as his blood was the glue that bound it to him. Madness crowned him as she carved holes in his face that brought forth a sight of different angles, that saw more than they should. His screamed was so sharp that his teeth shattered and those that grew in their place were long and pointed. She cut into his legs and split them into four pieces each, elongating and wrapping them in more exoskeleton. The corpse of a dead spider was plundered and he was laid upon with an egg heavy thorax. He sobbed and bled and begged, but there was no loved for the most cursed of forms, no love for the dryder. The woman kept the gift of Queen Mother’s blood as he was dumped outside of Menzoberranzen, as his insanity festered and grew, as his body thrummed with the agony of a life that was not his, trapped within him. Loret-mar climbed the cliffside, easily, spider legs made for such a feat, and he came upon his friend, the first slave he had ever known, and possibly the only man he had ever loved, not that he had known it at the time. “Thelous-set, my friend, my heart, my first relief. Will you relieve me again?” Thelous-set did not answer. He only sobbed, bowed before his former Master. Pain was lancing through them both but, for Loret-mar, there was hope that it would soon end. Quick as a blink he was upon Thelous- set, spidery limbs catching at his clothes and tearing them away. Thelous-set screamed and wriggled, attempting to escape, and Loret-mar had to hold him down, had to force him onto his belly. He kicked out, which only worked to lift his hips and expose his ruined cock. That was the moment that Loret-mar struck in, massive pink appendage pressed against and popping into unwilling flesh. Thelous-set’s screams changed shape, becoming a high pitched bellow, as Loret-mar raped him in a new form, different than any he ever had when he was a girl. He shoved and shoved, only pulling back to push in deeper, to press until his ovipositor had found a home inside of his guts. “Shh, shh, it’s good, isn’t it? We’re finally together again. You always helped me through my pains, help me again, now. I hurt so badly. You don’t want me to hurt, do you?” Relief thundered through him as he pushed the eggs, over sized from how long they had been carried in his thorax, into his old lover. He screeched and clawed at the ground as his rectum was ruined, as the eggs were pushed into him. They were deposited into his very guts as Loret-mar hummed and moaned with release. Thelous-set’s nails broke off and her scrambled with blood fingertips. His eyes rolled back and he pissed himself from the pain and fear of being stuffed so full.
May 14, 2025 at 8:22 AM
punkandnewwave.bsky.social
On this in 1977, I went to my first-ever gig: #TheClash #RichardHellAndTheVoidoids #TheLous
When you talk about game/life changing...
November 1, 2025 at 8:13 AM