My deepest apologies to Naoko Takeuchi.

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	Well, well, well... look what I found on my new laptop. A
fanfic that my Evil Clone thought he could hide from me - on MY OWN 
computer! I can't believe he was so stupid! BWAHAHAHAH*ackcoughcough
wheeze*

	Ouch. How does he laugh like that? 

	Ahem. At first, I was just planning to send it to the trashcan,
like all his other lame-ass hentai fanfics (Kid and Harle from 
Chronocross? Spare me), but this one is actually... kinda good. Not as
good as any of my good-ol' fashioned no-sex-at-all fanfics, of course, 
but there's always a few people out there who read lemon fanfics. Of 
course, I'd never do a thing like that.

	Really.

	Anyway, without further ado, I'd like to give you... Eyewrin's
latest Lemon. This thing is pure raunch as soon as the sex starts, but 
it's funny in the beginning, and towards the end, and you can just skip
over the sex parts easily enough. You won't be missing much... unless 
you like that sort of thing.

	Oh yeah, before I forget (and I'm sure my ingrate of an Evil
Clone would never do this on his own) Sailor Moon, and all its charas,
were created by Naoko Takeuchi and only she and the people she says 
have permission to use her characters in any way. That never stopped 
us before, though, and it won't stop us now.




	BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I cannot believe that my fool clone, 
Aaron (I am the original, of course. No copy could match _my_ 
brilliance!) left his laptop lying around. While ordinarily I would use
this golden opportunity to hack with everything on his computer, sign 
him up for Email Free Daily Teletubbies Wild Sexx Pictures, subscribe 
him to the Britney Spears Online Fanletter, and otherwise destroy his 
entire life, I shall spare his miserable computer this time, for I 
have... an observation.

	As I plumb the depths of Sailor Moon hentai fanfiction, I 
notice that there are, quite sadly, only three flavors, and all 
three have been done to death.

	The author-insertion (no pun intended) stories, where the 
all-powerful author-chara manages to lay one or many of the Senshi, has
possibilities, but sadly, no one would read such a pathetic sally into 
the field.

	The admittedly entertaining girl-on-girl action tales, where
there's a whole lotta lickin' and twinin' of sweaty bodies, also sounds
like a lot of fun, but it's also limited. I mean, even with, what, 10
female Senshi counting that annoying pink-haired one who should be 
shot, there's only so many combinations conceivable. Unless you were to
have her shot and then.... But that's just sick. Really. Hmm...

	Anyway, the last genre has the most potential, but is also the
most abused. To sum it up, tentacled monster invades, ravages the poor,
helpless Senshi in ways that they really shouldn't like, but eventually 
(bwahahaha) they succumb.

	While there is nothing wrong with these stories, and I have 
whiled away many a fine hour with these excellent pieces of literature, 
I have a slightly... different... idea. What if we were to step through 
the looking glass? What if white were to become black, and black some 
as-yet undetermined non-black color?

	What if all the Senshi (including the pink-haired one, unless I
have her shot first) were abusing a poor, helpless tentacled monster 
that just happened to bear a slight resemblance to a certain clone with
less-than-social tendancies? 

THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS

HOSTED BY EYEWRIN, MISGUIDED CLONE WHO HAS THESE PROBLEMS WITH
 ATTENTION-GETTING BEHAVIORS

SAILOR MOON
TWISTED, SICK, WRONG, PERVERTED 

DISCLAIMER: All the characters in this story are at the age of 
eighteen at the time of this fic. Honestly. What, do you think I'm 
some kind of pervert? 

Practice safe sex! You don't know where your partner's been, especially
if you're a horrendous tentacled monster.




	Have you ever had one of those surreal moments?

	I mean, when something seems slightly off, and you don't 
quite notice what it is, but it's making you very uncomfortable, so you
tear around your living room trying to figure it out, and finally you 
see with a sense of relief that the portrait of your great-grandfather 
is hanging slightly askew, so you try to fix it, and then you notice 
that it isn't the picture that's askew, it's _the world_...

	Then again, maybe I'm not putting this feeling into a metaphor 
you poor humans could understand. I am, after all, the most surreal 
experience most of my victims ever have. I'm no uberyoumageneral, mind 
you, but I get by. I like having tentacles too, they're handy when you 
have to scratch your nose and use a urinal at the same time. 

	It all started when my Queen called me to her throne room. I
was extremely pleased, not only because it meant a chance to wreak a 
little havoc in the real world, but also because this prince guy my 
Queen had kidnapped from Tokyo and brainwashed was trying to do karoke. 

	I have nothing against karaoke. In theory. The only problem 
comes when a man pops in a CD of Megumi Hayashibara songs and does
karoke to them. 

	The worst part was, he was scoring 90s quite easily...

	Anyway, it was with absolutely no regret that I teleported
to the Throne Room. Though, a few minutes later, I was actually 
missing Shining Girl. For my Queen had called me in to discuss yeast
infections. What do I care about yeast infections? I'm a fucking 
demon! (No pun intended, of course.)

	Apparently, though, I "Aah"ed when I should've "hmm"ed, for
my Queen became wrathful with me and sent me to destroy the Sailor
Senshi, which I was absolutely ecstatic about. Let me explain why.

	Any youma you ever meet has a deathwish. If you lived in the
deepest depths of hell with all those moaning, tormented souls never
letting you have a decent night's sleep, the only women you can date
being the kind that tend to eat their mates, and not a single decent 
cigarette shop _anywhere_, you'd have one too. 

	That's why, despite the fact that the Senshi have a infinity:0
win-loss record, we youma continually let ourselves be sent to
certain doom. Just in case you were wondering. Also, there's this 
little shop in downtown Shinonome that sells the greatest cigars...

	Nevertheless, it was on my trip through the dimensional barrier
that I started to get that surreal feeling. It could have been the 
fact that the fields of purest evil were slightly warped around Tokyo
that day. It could have been the fact that the dimensional 
subharmonics felt twisted, kinked. It could have been the cute blonde
wandering around, calling out, "Kiyone... Kiyone..."

	I landed in front of that store with no bits missing. I walked
in, plunked down enough money for a small humidor filled with the 
finest leaf ever to be rolled into a football shape, and stepped out
into the street again with foul smoke rolling out of my mouth. Aahh.
For the first time in a long time, I was starting to feel like the foul 
hellspawn that I was.

	Which reminded me of my mission. I started feeling for the 
energies thrown out by the Sailor Senshi. The only survivor of a 
dimension destroyed by the Senshi brought the technique to us; I could
never remember if he was from the seventh dimension they crushed, or 
the eleventh. That sort of thing kinda blends together after a while.

	It was, quite honestly, child's play. This close to their 
sugary-sweet energies, they stood out like... like... something really 
bright and shiny. Although, something about their energies seemed off,
but I put it down to that weird feeling again. 

	I rode the shadows like a Camel of Death to where they were
(always a handy trick), making sure to keep the amount of energy I used
to a minimum so as not to alert anyone too soon to my presence. I ended
up... at an open-air cafe called the Red Umbrella.

	Go figure.

	Anyway, I spotted them almost immediately. There were only 
three present, but that was actually a relief; they might be easier to
pick off in smaller numbers. 

	Riiight. 

	The one with long black hair and the one with short black hair 
were sitting there, along with one of the blonde ones. I couldn't tell 
which blonde witch it was, though. They both act so stupid...

	"I can't believe you just stood there and him be kidnapped 
again!" The black-haired one - Rei, that was her name - sounded angry.
Upset. Disraught. Peeved. Downright _pissed_.

	The blonde one snapped back, "Oh, you're just pissed because it
was your turn next. Besides, I didn't just _stand_ there, I _laid_ 
there on the ground because I was tied up!"

	The one with short black hair didn't look up from her book as
she said, "I'll never understand why you insist on playing those kinky
games whenever it's your turn, Minako."

	"Oh, and what do you do when it's your turn, Ami? Lie on your
back and whimper?" Then, Minako's voice turned sly. "I've never heard
him protest _my_ methods..."

	The one named as Ami didn't say anything in response, only
burrowed her nose deeper into her book as she flushed a bright shade of
red. 

	I was torn at this point. One part of me wanted to attack them
now, but another, larger part wanted to... play with my food, so to 
speak. It's one of those pesky problems with being a youma of my type.
You get phenominal cosmic powers, but once you see a pretty girl, all
the blood goes from your brain _right_ to the tentacles. And hell, 
let's face it, those Sailor girls might be demon-killing machines, but 
they've got _really_ nice...

	"Heh, heh, heh..."

	I suddenly realized that I'd been chuckling evilly and staring
blankly at the table full of cute girl for nearly a minute and a half, 
so I metaphysically grabbed myself by the scruff of the neck and shook 
really hard. Ouch.

	I was so busy cussing myself out for that near-fatal lapse of 
attention that I almost didn't notice the fourth one until she walked 
right up to the table her friends were sitting at and said, "Hey, 
what's up guys?" She was tall. Really tall. I like 'em tall. 

	But there were already four there; which was a dangerous 
number. Three was bad enough; I couldn't let any more show up or I
really would be (in a sense) wormfood. It was time to make my move.

	There's a kind of demon that tries to destroy everything the 
moment they hit the Material Plane, engaging in an (no pun intended)
orgy of destruction until they're banished, destroyed, Moon Healing 
Escalationed, whatever. That's not my style. I prefer subtle 
manipulations, simple, untraceable spells, and letting an enemy destroy 
him- or herself.

	The first stage was to remove the brains, and the only one that
had any was the one reading the book: Ami... which gave me the perfect 
opening. 

	I slowly wove a spell, keeping the power low enough that they
wouldn't notice prematurely, and released it. It wafted gently over to
Ami and settled into her hair, working slowly to convince her that the
book she was reading was the _best_ she'd ever read, that reading it
was _better_ that doing anything else, that _nothing_ could compare to
reading it, not even sex...

	She crossed and uncrossed her legs unconsciously as her juices
started flowing, telling a tale to any who had a nose for such things. 
They said she had only known two men and (my eyes crossed a bit at 
this) twenty-seven women?

	Well, at least she'd be out of the way. I could tell that my 
spell had gone unnoticed by my target, and the others were caught up
in a conversation that I'd ignored up until now. Hoping for an opening,
I started paying attention.

	"She's reacting about as you'd expect - she's ripping around 
her room, ready to tear the shit out of anyone that so much as reminds
her of Mamoru's... ah... situation." That was the tall one. I licked my
lips at the thought of twining my tentacles around that one.

	The one that stank of priestesshood snarled out, "What right 
does _she_ have to be angry, huh?! It was my turn to have him next!"

	Were they talking about the Prince of Karoake back in the ol'
home dimension? It would seem so. I'd wondered why My Queen, bless her
lack of soul, allowed that blithering idiot into the kingdom...

	Not that it would matter in a few minutes anyway. Since their 
attention was distracted, it would be the perfect time to strike.

	The first move was to drop my disguise. The next was to whip my
tentacles around the three standing up, completely avoiding the still-
enraptured Ami. I closed my eyes and waited for the sweet screams to 
start before I ripped off their clothing. There are certain standards 
to be maintained, after all.

	However, the screams didn't come. I cracked one eye open and 
looked at the Senshi that hung suspended in the webs of my tentacles. 
They looked back at me, seeming... bored, for lack of a better word. 
Without looking away from me, Rei said to Minako, "Another one?"

	"Looks like."

	That's when my bad feeling got a _lot_ worse.

	"What should we do with this one?"

	Motoko shrugged and moved aside one of my tentacles to rub her
chin with one hand. "I'm not too sure, actually. I mean, I want to kill
him, but..."

	I felt her slide herself _slowly_ up, then _slowly_ down the 
tentacle I'd inserted in her cleft. I scented her juices, and tried to
shy away. STDs! Somehow, though, my body betrayed me, and that tentacle
moved with her motion. She let out a moan of pure rapture and slid her
hands under her shirt, rubbing her breasts through her bra. 

	I lost my focus on her, though, as wetness enveloped the 
tentacle I'd wrapped around Rei's throat. I turned my attention to the
raven-haired girl and saw her tonsils slide closer. Oh, didn't I 
mention that my tentacles have eyes on the end?

	When she saw my horned head turn in her direction, Rei popped 
the tentacle out of her mouth and, her eyes staring into mine, snaked
her tongue out and flicked the tip. I let out a demonic moan that 
rattled my razor-sharp teeth.

	It had been fun, but now it had to end before they got the 
upper hand... err, upper something, anyway. I quickly put six more 
tentacles in advantageous positions and ripped through the skirts and
blouses of all three Senshi in one motion that I had to practice for
two centuries before mastering properly. Do you think that we're born
knowing how to do these things?

	Anyway. I twined two of the tentacles around Makoto's breasts,
kneading them rhythmically. I flicked her nipples once, and she reached
down to grab her breasts and smooshed them together, catching both of 
the tentacles between them. In an absolutely amazing feat of 
flexibility she bent her head down and sloppily licked what she could 
reach.

	Meanwhile, I exuded a protective coat of slime on the tentacle
that was between Minako's legs. Trust me, you do NOT want to get an 
sexually transmitted desease on a tentacle, even if you have twenty of 
them. Safety taken care of, I pulled the tentacle back and shoved it as
far up her pussy as I could.

	Sadly, that wasn't very far, for her panties were still in the 
way, and I cursed myself for that amateurish mistake. I twined the 
tentacle around the slip of cloth that came between our flesh and 
shredded it. She screamed in pleasure as my tentacle knotted around her
panties while still inside her, pushing her entrance almost to the 
tearing point. 

	Then, as the tip of the tentacle touched her cervix, her scream
ululated at the breaking point of glass. Obligingly, the glasses on a 
nearby table, abandoned by the patrons as they sensibly fled, 
shattered, sending sticky fluid all over the checkered tablecloth.

	Don't be fooled into thinking that I was ignoring Rei, however.
And because she hadn't been wearing panties (What a naughty girl. 
Doesn't she know what they say about girls who go around without 
knickers?) there'd been nothing stopping me from plugging both her 
holes violently. She responded to the violence I was inflicting on her
asshole by first deepthroating the tentacle she'd still been licking,
then by reaching down and rubbing her clit violently. 

	"Vile demon! We shall destroy you before WHAT THE HELL?!?"

	Aha. That would be some other Senshi showing up, unless I 
missed my guess. Without looking, I whipped nine tentacles in their 
direction. Four were severed (which made me wince, but what could I do
about it?) while the other five were right on target. I dragged both
closer to me so I could get a better look, pulling one of them right
through the table where Ami was still sitting, now with one hand in her
panties while the other was holding the book six inches from her face.
I briefly contemplated interrupting her, but why bother when I had five
playthings already?

	Speaking of that, I turned my attention to the two whom I'd 
just dragged in. One was blonde while the other had green hair, making
me wonder if she'd misused her girlfriend's peroxide somehow. The 
blonde spat, "I don't know what kind of magic you used on them, but we 
won't succumb so unh!"

	It's amazing how much stretch one of those sailor fukus have.
I mean, they _are_ supposed to be armor, right?

	The newcomer blonde was tight, and her juices told the tale of 
never having known men before, but as for her bottle-job girlfriend...
Well! I've rarely experienced such looseness, not even in succubi whose
proud history stretches back more than a few millennia!

	A short, pink-haired little girl showed up then and opened her 
mouth. I braced myself for the usual tiresome tirade, but thankfully I
was spared as a red flower spouted from her forehead. Not literally,
you jackass; her body jerked forward and fell face-down against the 
pavement as her brainmatter exited the back of her skull with the force
of a small rocket. 

	I heard a voice say from above me, as though drifting out a 
window, "I think that was a nice shot, don't you, Itami?"

	"Uhn."

	"Aw, yer no fun! Anyway, one contract on the pink-haired one,
completed. We didn't have to harm any others, so we get the bonus! 
Ain't that sweet?"

	I turned around, but there was nothing there but an open third-
story window. I silently thanked whoever it was that eliminated the
girl; I was starting to run out of tentacles (hey, I only have so many)
and besides, I have no interest in little girls. I may be a youma, but
do you think I'm a monster?

	I felt a sharp twinge of pain in one of my tentacles, and 
turned my wandering attention back to the meal. I felt it again, and 
traced it back to the tentacle that was currently in Rei's rectum. She
grinned at me, clenched her sphincter, and I was torn between being in
awe of her muscular control and screaming in agony as she literally
_pinched off_ the end of that tentacle!

	In the end (no pun intented) I settled for doing both and,
stimulated beyond even my immense control, I sprayed my five victims
with digestive fluid from my remaining tentacles. I always thought it 
was strange that my digestive fluids were colored white, but who am I 
to question Nature's Providence? 

	My tentacles, job done, were starting to retract a bit, losing
some of their muscular definition.

	That's when things took a decided turn for the worse.

	First, the peroxied blonde latecomer grabbed the tentacle that
had probed her heretofore unknowable regions and gave it a sharp, 
painful twist. "What the hell do you think you're doing, huh? _We're_
not done yet!"

	Ami's hips bucked as she had an orgasm, but she was still too
caught up in the book to do more than open her mouth slightly and pant
as her fingers continued working.

	Last, but most certainly worst, I felt a probe at my own 
rectum, a probe that culminated in a most painful shove. I looked over 
my shoulder to see a most irate girl with two pigtails holding one end
of a Moon Scepter. The other end being two feet deep in me. She gave
it a sharp twist and grinned savagely as she said, "I feel like giving
this season instead of recieving. So, I shall punish you!"

****

	I'll spare you the sordid details at no large cost to me. 
Suffice to say, the six girls worked me over in a way that would make
some of the vicious she-beasts back home envious. 

	I laid on the pavement, trying to be glad at the fact that 
they'd at least left me my life and failing miserably. A shadow fell
over me, and I managed to roll over to get a good look at its caster. 

	He looked perhaps twenty-five, despite a slight fringe of grey 
at the temples and a look in his eyes that could only be described 
as... lifeless, as though he'd seen some of the worst horrors that the 
world had to offer and had lived through them, much to his own regret. 
He said, softly, "I feel your pain."

	"Not unless you've had three feet of scepter shoved up yer ass,
bub," I most distinctly failed to vocalize. Instead, what I said, tears
threatening to leak out my eyes, "Really?"

	"Really." He held out one hand. "My name is Oscar, and I 
represent the Survivors of Bad Hentai Fanfic. We work to gain vengeance
upon those who inflicted this existence upon us!"

TO BE CONTINUED..?



AUTHOR'S NOTES

When I can write like this, don't you think it's a grand injustice for
Aaron to keep me locked up in the basement and only feed me a bucket of
fish heads once a week?

Just kidding. He usually drops a bucket off every three days...

By the way, I had all three ways to spell Karaoke (karoke[karoake])
INTENTIONALLY in here because NO ONE knows how to spell it! No one!!!

Yeah, I hired the Magical Girl Hunters to off that annoying pink-
haired one. They worked cheap, for once; one would think they had a 
grudge against her too...

So, I reiterate: Who's the mistake now, you lousy excuse for a gene-
parent?


EDITOR'S NOTES

*ducks the Nerf brick his sister chucks at him*

Well, what do you think, sirs?

Yes, Oscar is stolen most gratuitously from the, erm, legendary lemon
Artemis's Lover. If you haven't read it, you're missing one of the 
most horrifying things to ever be allowed to exist. In other words:
DON'T READ IT! RUN, RUN FOR YOUR LIFE IF YOU EVER SEE IT ANYWHERE!!

Aaron Bergman
iamfanboy@hotmail.com
"I'd like two Double-D Ojosama
 Burgers with a Gratuitious-size
 order of fries."
"Would that be Panty-Cut or 
 Tentacle-Style fries, sir?"
 -My first visit to Hentai Burger
 

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