The Red Mother
by PulpPistil
Ten years after the second blow, no man can father a child. Five intersex survivors of a wiped tribe take a hire from a juice-farm town: find the masked raiders who have started keeping women, and the name of their new goddess. The five already use each other, mother and grown daughter included. They have held their seed as a secret. The job is supposed to buy them a home. Produced with AI tools.
Southlight Oasis
by PulpPistil
A damaged explorer ship puts down at a lush oasis because the hull will not last another jump. The air is breathable. The water is real. The women who live there come out unarmed and already touching each other. They feed the crew. They pour. They undress the way other people shake hands. Sex is part of the welcome, not a side offer, and most of the ship takes it. The captain does not. He sleeps on the metal, eats what he must, and treats the oasis like a delay that should already be over. Repairs keep failing. Days stretch. The women stay close whenever the work is discussed. One crew member starts leaving her suit open and spending her off-hours in the halls. The oasis is very good at making leaving feel unnecessary. Produced using AI tools.