As I mentioned in my last article, I like sirens (by “sirens,” I of course mean the Greek mermaid-like creatures who lured sailors to their deaths with their voices and beauty, not the “I’d better pull over” type of sirens).

So when looking for a new erotic story to review, the title Deep Space Sirens by James Lucien of course caught my eye. The premise of the story is this:

A science-fiction horror erotica about a fugitive fleeing from intergalactic bounty hunters who seeks refuge on a derelict space ship. After finding that the spaceship is in fact home to a bunch of dried up corpses, he is seduced and dominated by three robotic vixens styled after—of course—the Powerpuff Girls.

Sci-fi and horror? Intergalactic outlaws? BDSM? Powerpuff Girls? I’m in.

One of my absolute favorite things about erotica is how it can go from zero to sixty in no time at all. Take, for example, the opening paragraph of Deep Space Sirens:

“‘There’s nowhere in the galaxy you can hide.’ It echoes in my mind, reverberates like an endless dirge sang by a choir of the damned. It haunts my every waking moment. Dements my every dream into nightmares of impending doom. Poke one teenage princess in her tiny pink virgin asshole and your life’s over forever.”

Woah, wait, what?

In all my years of picking up the weirdest-titled erotic novels I can find, I’ve learned not to expect much, writing-wise. Every once in a while, though, a story surprises me. Deep Space Sirens is one of those stories. Deep Space Sirens is well-written and at times, very funny. Like the narrator’s reaction to finding his first naked, withered corpse:

“I sigh. ‘Well, that isn’t discomforting at all. Welcome and salutations to you too, buddy.'”

Just a dead dude on an abandoned spaceship. You know, no big deal.

Although Deep Space Sirens is not exactly my cup of tea—I find it hard to identify with a narrator who is a self-confessed statutory rapist—I definitely recommend it to anyone looking for a short, well-written sci-fi BDSM story (you’d think that would be a relatively small category, but I assure you it is not).