The rebels did not have a chance. Tired after a week-long march and most still bearing their burdens they mustered little in the way of a defense, those who drew their weapons were quickly cut down. The camp was swiftly surrounded, the rebel men were given no quarter and were swiftly put to the sword, the river on the banks of which the camp was just being established ran red with their blood. I want to spare the my dear readers the description of the horrible torments inflicted upon the leader of the rebellion but suffice it to say that by the time he started to pray for death, the king’s executioners were only halfway done with their work and at the end of it his corpse hardly resembled a human being. The children of the camp were declared outlaws and prohibited from ever returning to civilization under pain of death, then allowed to run away. For the wives, adult daughters however, the commanders had something special in mind to make sure no further rebellions would spring up in this remote part of the kingdom. The rough soldiers, still bloodied from killing their male relatives forcibly removed their clothes, leaving them in naught but their shifts. The unfortunate rebel women were also ordered to remove their shoes and stockings to ensure against flight and prevent them from strangling each other to avoid the king’s justice. Females unwilling to undress themselves or bare their feet were effectively “encouraged". Loud wailing and screaming from fear, humiliation and grief could be heard throughout the camp, much to the amusement of the hardened soldiers.
The next town was situated a three day's march away from the rebel camp. Horsemen were sent out who could make the trip in a day. Meanwhile, canes and whips were used to drive the unfortunate barefoot and almost naked prisoners to their fate. It was obvious that the march would not be a quick one as the rebel wives and daughters rightfully suspected they were headed towards a painful and, even more importantly to most of them, extremely humiliating end. About twenty out of the two hundred and fifty captured women tried to escape but none succeeded, barefoot and exhausted with most of the road leading through dense forests the bloodhounds would quickly catch up with them and just as quickly, their already flimsy shifts ripped and bloodied, they would rejoin the rest of the doomed wenches on the way towards their destiny. Heart-breaking scenes could be witnessed among the doomed women and girls, a mother tried to strangle her two twin daughters with her bare hands before soldiers intervened and separated the crying family members before they could do real damage to themselves.
Meanwhile, the Royal horsemen had arrived in the town and immediately went to work. Every man able to lift a saw, hammer or shovel was pressed into service but promised a fair wage at the end of it all. Soon the entire town was working to prepare the upcoming mass hanging of the rebel wives and daughters. Construction on a huge gallows spanning the whole town square lengthwise, big enough to accommodate 250 women began and a mass grave just outside the town to accommodate 250 female corpses stacked one on top of each other was dug. The town had quite a large rope-making industry so there was no shortage of this most cruel and humiliating means of execution. The women of the town were tasked with tying the nooses that would ensnare the necks of the defeated rebel wenches, there was no time for elaborate hangman’s nooses so when the time would come, the sinful women’s necks would be ensnared by simple slipknots, lengths of rope used to bind their wrists behind their backs as a mark of their captivity and humiliation were also cut to size. Crude benches would have to be hammered together as a last perch for the bare feet of the doomed women and girls before a series of swift kicks would send them them dancing on their way to oblivion.
The sounds of the doomed females preceded their shameful procession, there was much screaming, wailing and praying caused by their shameful fate as well as the grief from losing their sons, brothers, fathers and husbands. Then the first of the miserable creatures emerged, then another and another. Their white and grey shifts, faces pale from fear and bare, dusty feet made them look more like ghostly apparitions than human beings. And so the sorry procession slowly made it’s way into the settlement. Before they are led to the gallows, there is one more humiliation the poor lasses needed to endure. Slender wrists were chafed by rough ropes, hands made fists to test the unforgiving bindings. A few young women broke down as they were bound, attempting to escape, trying to fight the guards or just pressing their slender arms against their chest, piteously begging the guards for mercy but the overwhelming majority of the doomed females took this new humiliation about as well as anything that came before it.
With the gallows birds securely trussed up it was time to drive them forward towards their fate one last time. As the gallows came into view wails and screams rose once more in volume, about five of the doomed wenches wet themselves in fear of the waiting nooses and the slow and humiliating deaths they would bring. Without ceremony, the unfortunate girls were marched towards the long benches, forced up and then with an almost industrial routine nooses were put around their necks, long hair was removed from within after which the nooses were tightened, ready to seal their windpipes and with that, their collective fate.
Getting all of the future “brides of the noose" ready to dance their shameful dance at the end of short hempen ropes for the amusement of the King's men and the deterrent of the townsmen and women did not present a quick task, a surprising number of townsmen and more than a few women however derived pleasure from seeing the prisoners treated in such a way. It is to be noted that the shifts of some of the wenches were ripped as a result of the cruel journey and without means of covering themselves, they were presenting their bare breasts, nipples erect and covered in goosebumps from fear and the cold of the morning.
Having to wait for the preparation of their fellow prisoners was a form of torture within itself because it prolonged and worsened the fear of the prisoners and gave them more time to further dishonor themselves by crying, screaming and begging to be spared the humiliation of dancing the Tyburn jig in front of the whole town. Again, a few of the terrified captives could not control their bladders and their contents formed puddles on the benches, since they were placed close to each other, this meant that their neighbors too would have to suffer the smell and the discomfort and humiliation of standing with bare feet in a stinking yellow puddle. A particularly unfortunate creature, the daughter of a rebel lieutenant, a raven-haired, doe-eyed beauty of 21 summers named Elizabeth who’s delicate features and small but incredibly well formed breasts with nipples that seemed ready to burst through her thin, white shift, suffered the worst humiliation. She tried to pray to calm herself but in the end panic won and she evacuated herself down her slender, trembling legs. She gasped in shame, her face blushed intensively and tears started to flow down her face and, without any means of wiping them away, fell down onto the bench, mixing with her leavings. She tried to move her dainty, now soiled feet away from the disgusting pile but the dimensions of the bench and the tightness of the rope did not allow any meaningful escape. The four other females on the bench wrinkled their nose and the sound of suppressed gagging came from her immediate neighbours while poor Elizabeth was left to stand in her shame with the noose around her delicate neck reminding her of even more suffering that was to come.
Then it is all ready. 250 necks are now surrounded by rough hemp, 250 pairs of bare, dusty feet are perched uneasily on rickety, crowded stools. 250 hearts beat as quickly as they can, 250 chests heave with the last breaths. Some are silent, some still pray, beg and cry but none of that makes any difference now, their fate is the same. Initially it had been considered to kick away the benches one at a time but the fact that the execution, were it conducted in that manner, would take up the whole day plainly argued against it and so it was decided that all of the prisoners would loose their footing and commence their shameful "wedding dance" at the same time. There is no need for a sentence to be read as the king himself had proclaimed that any man or woman joining the rebel cause would immediately forfeit their life. 50 of the King's men, chosen at random step forward and slowly walk behind each of the benches and put their heavy military boots against the last support for vulnerable bare feet. At this moment the mental anguish of the rebel wenches reaches its apex. The flow of liquid can be heard again. Some faint but the ropes stop them from falling. All sorts of emotions were painted across the faces of the condemned women: fear, grief, sadness, despair, anger, shame, disgust and everything in between. Jaws tremble, naked toes scratch the rough wood, hair is plastered to pale foreheads with the sweat of fear, breasts heave with final breaths, lips utter their last curses, prayers, pleas and barely coherent babbles. The town clock strikes ten.

BANG!!!

50 benches fly forwards as one, 250 necks now know the weight of the bodies that are supposed to carry them. Bare legs kick, gurgling of all volumes and pitches can be heard throughout the whole town, they form one collective, desperate plea for air, a cacophony of suffering beyond imagination. Some of the suffering prisoners kick each other or attempt to wrap their bare legs around their neighbour to escape the deadly pressure of the noose that way. Heads are forced into various, sometimes unnatural angles. Desperation fills the eyes of the poor wenches, efforts to free bound hands lead to nothing but bleeding wrists. Shifts are kicked far and wide, sometimes tearing leaving poor sufferers with their breasts exposed and in a few instances even utterly naked.
Gradually and with a few exceptions the kicking is replaced with twitching. Faces turn blue, tongues make their way through discoloured lips. Bare, dirty feet point down in the vain hope of finding support. Squeaks replace gurgling, clicking replaces squeaks. Eyes once filled with life become grotesque, with broken capillaries but still tell the tale of the horrible suffering felt by the poor lasses. Bladders and bowels void themselves en masse down twitching legs, sometimes accompanied by last grunts of shame and sometimes it is quite obvious that the utterly dishonoured wenches no longer care. Literal puddles and small mounds of excrement form themselves under the unhappy rebel wives and daughters. A disgusting smell permeates throughout the town heralding the utter defeat and humiliation of the rebels. The last to stop her looking fight against the noose is the 22 year old flaxen-haired daughter of the rebel leader, a spirited girl, sometimes acting as her father's commander. Before darkness envelops her the rope turns her to the left, then the right. She sees all of those women who put their trust into her father and herself turned into corpses, shifting and pissing themselves in death. A last strangled sob makes it’s way through her constricted throat, then there is silence. Some of the condemned die a “clean death" but it is an exception not a rule.

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Translated by DeepL

someone posted a series of these

When Tim walked into the butcher shop, he was obviously terrified. Holding the red ticket in his hands, he was on the verge of tears when he heard the tiny bell jingle above the door. In the window several butchered boys just the same age as him were hanging by hooks, their naked bodies in clean pieces with prices stuck into their flesh with pins. Slowly he walked up to the currently empty counter. "Hello?" He called out. "My mommy told me I had to come here?" A few moments later an older man came from behind the counter and greeted Tim.

"Hi there little one! What's your name?" Asked the man gently.

"Tim," answered timidly, still holding the ticket.

The child handed the ticket over to the butcher. It was a notice from the Department of Population Control - Tim had been randomly selected to be culled for his meat in order to address the food shortage the area was facing. A half dozen boys came in each day with tickets like this. Each boy would then be taken back to the front of the store where they'd have their bodies weighed, measured, and inspected before being prepared for slaughter. The inspectors were not gentle men, most of them having spent their entire lives hunting, killing, and butchering people just like Tim. They were all looking forward to breaking this small child down so that they could enjoy a hot meal tonight.

"Well, well, well... Tim. Lets see if you're a big enough boy to become dinner!"

"Ok, what do I have to do?" The nervous child said.

"Well, first off we'll need you to strip."

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frist time posting here my art, hope i did well enough (also bc i have no idea how to use this site lol)

I drew smthn the other day. Not sure if its v good tho

I've noticed, in a lot of guro collections spread across the webs, they're all filled to the brim with oekaki art. Why is this? I'm aware of the older guard from the western oekaki communities drawing dirty/violent stuff on various drawing boards, but the Japanese guro oekaki drawings in these collections are always really well drawn (for a drawing-board image anyway). For the peeps that have been lurking this site for longer than just this iteration, could you provide any insight on where all these drawings might've spawned from? If you're still not aware of what I'm referring to, the huge archive of 2006-2010 era /g/ is the best example; that collection is absolutely FILLED with oekaki drawings, along with deviantART, LJ, sheezyart, etc. guro art. Right now my hunch is the oekaki guro images originate from Futaba, with a mix of notable guro artists (like for example, Uziga Waita) hosting personal webpages with oekaki BBS open for fans to draw whatever fantasies they wanted to on it. Now I think the latter would make a lot of sense, since if I'm not mistaken, Futaba doesn't have any NSFW oekaki board intended for guro. I know some Japanese users lurk this site, maybe they could spare some info? Anyhow, I'm going off on a tangent, cheers GUROchan. (´∇`)

Is there a discord server for guro? if not, maybe we should have one

Any good combat/battle 3D shit out there? Saw some decent stuff on Deviant art before they went all pg-13 but never saved anything sadly...

dai kyochuu rettou actualy already released 31 chapter, does anyone know where can i read them?

https://anonfiles.com/jfjdU4Y8xf/_Ogeretsu-dan_Shinjima_Saki_Tenshi_no_Kitana_Benjo_E_zip

First time translating and editing. Let me know what you think.

Looking for movies where a girl gets eaten out literally. Books, comics, and manga are also welcome.

Here are some of the scenes I’ve already come across:

Trouble Every Day - Definitely the most brutal depiction I’ve come across. It’s graphic, it’s got decent length, we get to see her reactions, and so on. He bites a chunk out of her vagina before proceeding to rape and kill her.

Castle Freak - This one involves a deformed mutant killing a hooker. It’s gorier than the above scene, but we only get to see it for a short moment.

Yummy (2019) - This one contains a brief scene of a zombie eating a girl under her surgical blanket. We can’t quite see where he is biting her, but the overall positioning seems to suggest it’s her vagina.

Scout’s Guide to the Zombie Apocalypse - This one cuts away without actually showing it, unfortunately.

Zombex - Another one that cuts away, though we do get to see the initial bite into her shorts at least.

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Does anyone have Ted Owner subscribestar work?

There used to be more on pixiv, but a lot of it has gone missing. I remember there used to be a lot of Marina dismemberment stuff.

https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/93923746

Looking for the full works of this among others

Is there a team which focuses on translating GURO doujin/manga? If there isn't, it would be cool if we found one here on GC

>This story was written for an anonymous commissioner.
>It is fully written, at 29,000 words, and will be posted in parts.
>Each part will have more specific content tags in the subject line.

“Without a doubt, it was some of the most fun I’ve had in my entire life, and I like to think I lead a pretty exciting life.”

The reporter blinked, her lipsticked mouth hanging open in a slight gape. Her grip tightened around the long handle of her microphone, shaking slightly, but she didn’t pull it back or think to interrupt, and John’s grin only grew wider.

“The last one begged me to live,” he continued. He spoke casually but with energy, like a father recounting an old story. “She told me she’d do anything, you know. Offered to suck me off every morning, clean my ass with her tongue, even cook breakfast and dinner! I told her I’d let her go if she could get me off three times in one hour, and you know what? She did!”

The reporter licked her lips. She glanced towards the camera uncertainly. “And then…?”

“Then I slit her throat and fucked the hole.”

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Requesting good /f/reakshow doujin artists. I want to see more art like pic related, since I'm not really into "body part is somewhere where it isn't supposed to be" art.