Haven't come across one myself. Definitely interested though.

You could start a thread in /g/ and see what gets shared. Many of the Gore & Death threads have a theme. It's especially helpful if you can share some art that matches what you're looking for to start things off. I've seen some pics I'd call "light" gore/necro/snuff, but it's always mixed in with the heavier stuff under some other theme.

>>8839
Why do you keep bumping month+ old threads?

>>8170

First off, I commend you for taking the time to browse the board rather than confronting him right away. I only have generic advice, though; I'd recommend having a discussion with him about whether he feels like his fetishes are harmless fantasies or if he feels like he could eventually hurt someone (or you) as a result. There's a variety of people here, from people who are totally harmless to those who are real sickos lol.

Also, don't force yourself to indulge him if his fetishes disgust you. There's no reason why you should be into the same things that he is.

Good luck! I wish I had more constructive advice to give, but I hope that everything works out for you two.

>>8170
The first thing you should find out is what exactly are his tastes as if he is that kind of guy who wants to see the suffering of his victims of he is just treating it like a game where you respawn (in which case regardless of how horrible are his fantasies he has no desire to hurt you or see your suffering in principle neither in the reality or in the fantasy)

If he mentioned that his fantasy is to cut tits and limbs off, he is probably not the kind of person who gets off on killing or torturing someone.

this kind of stuff will be most likely limited to occasional flirting on that topic. Like he can mention how he would chop off your breasts while you can respond as of how that would feel and what you would do, maybe you can also tell that you will chop off his dick as well and see how he will react.

If on the other hand, he is the guy who is into torture and killing he will most likely be perfectionist/narcissist to some degree with very strong morals that prevent him from acting out or even admitting his desires to himself. There is no way that he will act them out as even thought of that will scare him.

>>8175
>>8179

Thank you so much for the thoughtful replies. <3

I had a long chat with my 'darling' yesterday, as you suggested, and I think I am more at ease now. To be honest I feel a bit silly and guilty for being worried in the first place. Deep down, he couldn't hurt a fly, and you'd think I should know him well enough by now, but I freaked out a bit when I saw all these bloody images.

When I brought the issue up he was really scared at first. I think he honestly thought I was going to break up with him over this. There was some crying and hugging when I told him that wasn't the case. He's such a sweetie. :)*

I really wanted to know what turns him on and why, so we spent all evening browsing through his 'secret porn stash' and also the galleries here. Some of the stuff squicks me and I told him that, but I also kinda understand better now what he likes and why he likes it.

Most importantly we found some common ground. There were some images in the "Freakshow" board here that he showed me, which imagining if that happened to me does get him hard. For example these girls you can take apart like mannequins. He really likes those. And that's something, as weird as it is, I get it. If that was possible, I'd totally let him pluck me apart and rearrange my arms and legs and feel myself up how weird it'd feel, and then let him put me back together. He described it so vividly, it really turned me on. Trying to imagine all these things...


Comment too long, view post No.8191 to see the full comment.

Hello

>>8170
>>8175
>>8179
>>8191

This is one of the sweetest threads I think I've ever seen here. It reminds me VERY MUCH of how my wife found out about my dark fetishes. I told her. There was a lot of freaking out and crying (honestly… all on my part) and fear that she'd leave me over all this.

She took the admission far better than I had expected and we've had a LOT of talks about our desires, fantasies, real-world views and expectations, etc. Now, 8 years later, we're still together and she's occasionally doing things like photoshopping pictures of herself sliced to pieces for me, or browsing gurochan with me. She's still not into any of this stuff herself, nor would I ever expect her to be, she just likes to look into it from time to time to make me happy.

The year was 2072. Many things changed since the great collapse half a century ago, food, water and warmth became more prized while human life became considerably cheaper. To the first generation born after the end of civilization concepts such as the Internet or smart-phones were just tales told to them by their parents who had lived in a world where doing to bed with a grumbling, empty stomach was considered an unusual occurrence reserved only for the poorest. As time went on and memory of the old order began to fade these old tales were replaced by new and more relevant ones of nature and its horrors. As centralized governments slowly crumbled away, local communities became powerful once more, providing the unfortunate souls born into this world with a modicum of security and stability. Another concept which enjoyed a significant renaissance was that of religion and not the “forgive thine enemies” and “turn the other cheeks” type of quasi-benign belief systems which dominated the old world. The world had changed, so did it’s gods. The new deities, while retaining their old names demanded vastly different expressions of devotion from their followers; take the story of Abraham and Isaac as an example, in the old days it was a mostly harmless tale often told to children to teach them that, while we may not understand how, God will always lead us on the right path. The moral of this very same tale today has become quite different. In a world where the last contraceptive had been manufactured roughly fifty years ago, the circumstance of having to choose between the life of a child and the starvation of one’s entire family was not an alien concept to most people.
Yara was awoken by the cold. This was far from an unusual occurrence during this time of the year, no one could afford to have a fire burning during the night. Apart from the cold winds and a near constant runny nose there were some benefits to this time of the year; snow had not yet fallen and the supplies Yara's father and her had gathered were satisfactory and they were certain they would have no problem surviving the winter on what they had and should their situation get dire, the option of hunting, while risky and uncertain, was preferable to starving.
Yara and her father were forced to settle on the outskirts of this small community five years ago after Yara’s mother and younger brother had both succumbed to dysentery. After the then seventeen year old girl and her father had to watch them suffer and slowly die in their own watery excrement it became clear that they would no longer be able to to survive on their own. And so they hurried their dead, loaded as much as they could carry into a large hand-drawn cart and, with the help of an old, pre-collapse map, went out into the hostile world to find someone who would let them live amongst them. The .22 LR pistol that had once been used by Yara's great-grandmother in shooting competitions, had proven to be a remarkable deterrent against anyone considering taking what was theirs and Yara's father made sure to always carry it visibly. And so they were finally allowed to settle on the outskirts of a small small town which for many years had been governed by a local church.
The concept of separating the church and the state was one of the many concepts laid to rest after the collapse. In the community Yara was a member of after her brother's and mother’s tragic deaths the church fulfilled much more than the role of providing spiritual support to the faithful in times of need, the duties of all three branches of government were directly controlled by the church. The duties of those living under such a government were, surprisingly, quite few; each member of the community, young or old, male or female was expected to participate in church services at least three times per week (The service on Sunday was mandatory for everyone and neglecting it carried heavy sanctions), paying a small tithe as well was working one day per week for the church. Of course there were laws to regulate life in the town, but no sin was as severe as blasphemy for it was considered to be a direct attack on the church, and as such, on God and the community. A poor wretch found guilty of this grave offense was usually offered a chance to repent before being publicly hanged on a tree outside of town. An interesting peculiarity of this small town was the fact that other crimes while being punished severely did not carry the death penalty; in the eyes of the church elders sins such as theft adultery or murder were forgivable and could be forgiven by the community, blasphemy however was another matter entirely, it is a sin against God himself and as such only God may forgive it. The church could not allow itself to keep sinners of this sort in their midst. An attack on the church was, after all an attack on the whole community and without the community there could be no survival.
Yara looked around the hut that had now been her home for five years. It was a miserable hovel but she and her father had done the best to make it somewhat livable. A fireplace had been constructed as well as a decent workbench; furthermore, the few items in possession of their family since before the collapse of civilization apart from the pistol that had been brought here were now prominently displayed. There was for instance an old analogue clock, a painting of her great grandmother she had commissioned while studying in what was then known as Italy. It showed her great grandmother standing in front of the Cathedral in Siena; just like her great granddaughter she was of medium height had pale skin, dark brown shoulder length hair and eyes of the same colour.
Yara yawned, rubbed her eyes and counted thirty more seconds to enjoy the last opportunity to feel the warmth of the two heavy blankets. With a sigh she lifted herself from the creaking mattress, quickly put on the old pants that were once used for skiing and snowboarding but would now provide her with enough warmth to survive another early winter day as well as a pair of old trail boots. Water from the kettle placed on the, now burned out stove, helped quench Yara's thirst and water from a bowl next to it helped to wash the sleep from her eyes. Her father, awoken by the commotion greeted his daughter and slowly made his way out of bed as well. The day’s work was already cut out for both of them so without much resembling a conversation Yara put on her jacket and made her way to the door in order to collect firewood.
Before Yara could take hold of the doorknob The same door was kicked open, hitting her in the face and sending her flying backwards against her father. Four constables, assault rifles at the ready rush in and aim them at the pair, after a brief pause the highest rank amongst them started speaking: “Te are here to execute two arrest warrants on behalf of the holy Church on suspicion of blasphemy…” Before he could finish, Yara s father, to whom it now became apparent that this was a matter of life and death for him and his daughter rushed towards the pistol that had saved both of their lives before and was hidden for all these years under his mattress. This time however luck was not on his side; before he managed to aim the small calibre pistol, a bullet of a much higher calibre fired from the FAL of one of the constables, a man in his early twenties. The projectile turned his face into a bloody crater as it entered his head and took a significant portion of his brain with it as it exited. A splash of blood stained the facade of the Duomo di Siena and a small chunk of gray matter now lay at the feet of the smiling young student. Shaken from the loud noise Yara, still held her bloody nose and looked at her father who was now producing a few short gurgles, blood running out of his mouth and ears before laying still. The dutiful constables had no problems with tying Yara's hands behind her back and escorting her to the town hall (which these days also served as a court house) . While her clothes protected her from the cold, nothing could protect her from the stares and whispers of her neighbours but having just witnessed the death of her last relative Yara paid little attention to them.
The trial, if one could even call it that lasted for little over half an hour; after all, all of the evidence needed was already before the court. A young lad had broken into Yara’s home and had stolen 2 loafs of bread and a cup of flour unfortunately for the teary-eyed girl awaiting her fate before the bench, he also managed to take a particular book. 50 Years after the collapse books were mostly gone from this world either burned as a source of warmth of to eradicate the ideas which they carried. Writing and reading were still, however, skills routinely taught to children, if for not much more than to understand religious texts and laws. Unfortunately for Yara the book which the young thief reported to the authorities (he got 30 strokes of the cane for the crime of stealing) not only contained blasphemous ideas but denied the existence of a God completely. This could by no means be tolerated and so the presiding judge spoke to the terrified young woman before him, her nose had stopped bleeding at this point but the man before her was obviously a greater cause for concern: “The evidence in your case is truly overwhelming and so the law of the church dictates that you shall pay for your terrible sin with your life and the judgment of your tainted soul be left to the almighty. I am, however also bound by law to offer you an opportunity to save yourself from the fires of hell by publicly confessing your sin, honestly praying for forgiveness and dying as a Christian."
With nothing left to do, Yara accepted the Judge's offer. She turned around and addressed the masses that had piled into the court to see the church's justice. With a tear filled voice the girl confessed to possessing blasphemous writings and expressed remorse for her grave sin before the assembly. She then publicly signed a document transferring what little her family had to the church. As it was customary, the repentant condemned was then lead to the Church opposite of the town hall. Before Yara was locked inside for a day and a night to pray for God's forgiveness her hands were untied and she was given her last meal, a Large bowl of hot lentil stew, two pieces of brown bread and a cup of cold water. Although the young woman was devastated after the events of the morning hunger took over and she eventually ate and drank all that had been given to her. After her last meal the condemned was lead outside to the steps of the church where the bailiffs handed her a black, ankle-length penitent’s shift Yara would wear during her punishment. To demonstrate the will to fully a tune for her sin Yara was told to fully undress in front of the faithful and accept the black shift she would pray, suffer and die in. When it was time to remove her underwear the young woman hesitated, no stranger had ever seen her this way and she felt shame raise up within her causing her to blush despite the cold temperature of the early winter day shush was to be the last one she would fully live through. Her hesitation was quickly broken by the stern words of the priest invoking the horrors of hell that awaited those who did not fully repent, as well as the stern looks by the bailiffs. Her honour and modesty forsaken, Yara now stood fully exposed before the crowd, she quickly put on her death-shift and was escorted into the church where she would have one day and one night to pray for forgiveness and think about the noose that would all too soon choke the life out of her.
The reason why hanging became the only manner of execution by the church was twofold; the materials needed to perform such a grim task; Two lengths of rope, one for the tying of the hands and another to bear the weight of the condemned by his or her neck, a strong branch to do the same. A stool or bucket, the church had however recently decided to use a horse-drawn cart which was moved away from under the unfortunate sufferer when all of the pre-execution formalities were carried out and it was time for the prisoner to dance his or her last.
The other reason for which hanging was adopted as a method of dispatching blasphemers was the fact that not many things illustrated the sufferings of hell more accurately than the grotesque movements performed by the hanged as they slowly strangled, their airways closed by the hempen rope. The pathetic gurgles resembled the awful screams of demons and the frequent occurrence of men developing a final erection was seen as a disturbing parody of the deadly sin of lust. Furthermore the pathetic struggles, gasps and gurgles of the condemned as well as the frequent loss of control over bladder and bowels served as an excellent deterrent for those considering going against the teachings of the church.
In her 22 years on this earth Yara had witnessed more than her share of death and misery and thus had become quite desensitized, even the gory death of her father was to her just another event in her soon-to-be-over life. People dying of strangulation were a different story however, she witnessed her first hanging two years after moving to the town. A young man had been convicted of blasphemy after some of his writings were discovered in which he questioned the authority of the church to speak on behalf of the almighty. The authorities could not tolerate such a thing and so the poor lad found himself standing on a stool, hands bound behind his back with a rope around his neck. Yara watched as his face rapidly became red, then slowly turning purple as the rest of his body furiously fought to free itself from the noose which gradually choked the life out of him, forcing his tongue upward and partially out of his mouth. What disturbed Yara the most however were his eyes; desperately fixated on the crowd. The cruel rope had deprived him of the ability to speak or scream and the only thing emerging from his pinched throat was the occasional desperate vocal attempt at forcing air into his lungs. He wordlessly begged for someone in the crowd to cut him down or just grant him a swift death until his consciousness mercifully slipped away. Three minutes later the sharp smell of excrement heralded to the assembled crowd that his soul was now in the hands of God. The image of his face, slowly turning blue, his eyes desperately begging for mercy became a common feature in Yara's nightmares for many nights afterwards.
The young woman was left shivering from cold and fear in the middle of the medium-sized church. It was the only place in town where the lighting still worked and the bailiffs had been merciful and left the generator running throughout the night. Usually when she attended this place it was packed with both the faithful and those who pretended they were in order to further live a mostly secure life under the church's watchful eyes, now there was a deadly silence in the old building. This was it, the last full day Yara would live through was coming to an end and it had finally hit her. She stood in front of the altar where the bailiffs had deposited her, her wrists hurt and bore pale, red marks from the rope that had bound them, her slender naked feet were cold from the gray marble floor she was standing on. Her breath became quicker and she became light-headed. The edges of Yara's field of darkened so she stumbled to the first row of benches where she placed her brown-haired head into her palms and collapsed into a fit of spasmodic sobbing. Her nervous system overloaded with pain, fear and grief of the day and it took several hours full of cries, unintelligible screams of rage teeth-gritting, curses and sobbing for Yara to finally be able to regain some semblance of control over her feelings. The night had already advanced greatly when she had somewhat calmed down, her mind empty, staring at her bare, cold feet. The girl lifted her head and laid eyes on the altar She was never a true believer and the world around her did not make it easy, she had seen every flavour of misery in her short life and had experienced her fair share as well so the idea that an omnipotent all-knowing being was out there and loved her seemed almost ridiculous but also comforting especially when she was younger. Now her agnosticism had vanished, she had only known her father as an exceptionally kind (as much as it was possible in such a world) and intelligent man who would sacrifice everything for the life and happiness of his only remaining daughter, ensuring she was well-fed and clothed even if it meant for him to go barefoot and hungry. The idea that he had been killed by followers of the only true God in accordance with his laws was inconceivable; as he had not confessed and repented, his body would in all likelihood be burned with the town's refuse. Yara had heard the rumours of what happened to blasphemers who would not confess and while she truly dreaded and feared being suspended by her neck from a tree, kicking, gurgling, gasping, her face turning blue from lack of oxygen and slobbering all over herself while those in the front of the assembled crowd were able to catch a glimpse underneath her sparse clothing , it was safe to say that what she would have gone through had she not confessed would have been considerably more painful.

Comment too long, view post No.15806 to see the full comment.

Oh these are really good

>>1444
This is amazing, thank you anon

The sound was sickening and muffled. Karsten immediately went inanimate.

The bodies are waiting for the return of the troops. After being sexually molested, they be hung up and cut to ribbons by a hundred bayonets.

I tasted mine once, it was quite bitter.

Did you know: shit is full of faeces!

That's right, it's basically made of digestive end products - the waste material left over after your body is done digesting the food. It's also full of bacteria - so to minimize health risks, at least gurgle with a strong alcoholic beverage if you do try it.

Yes. To be honest, it didn't taste as bad as i expected it to. And it certainly tastes better than certain foods (not many). Now the shitty part (excuse the pun) about it is the texture and the fact that its, well, full of bacteria. So, if you think of doing it, just remember to wash your mouth after. And also, its real hard to get the smell off of your fingers. The only trick i found was washing with vinegar and the rubbing some coffee between my hands. The coffee overpowered any remnants of the smell.
And now i can actually claim that something "tastes like shit".

>>8121
No but I tasted my dog's shit.

>>8121
No, but wanted to and got close. I've taken a shit into my hands and in the shower and stuff, but the smell hit me so hard that I thought I was going to puke and had to get away and struggled to get it cleaned up. I don't know what to do about the smell. I want to be able to taste it, and I want to be able to have fun with it, but the smell makes me violently ill. :-C

Pour a thing line kerosene over a circle of twigs, packed firmly but loosely together, with a wide area in the middle (enough for you and one other person to not inhale the smoke when standing or sitting).

Step inside the circle after getting naked, then wear a straitjacket and light the circle.

Speak as follows:
"Admin of Gurochan, I have been warned, what is dead will not die! Grant me an audience, herald of grotesque art!"

Or just post an e-mail or something that works too.

Upon reading that I relized that I am a participant of the most amazing part of our culture. Thank you dear sir

I HAVE BEEN SUMMONED.

Nah, get in contact with us via our IRC.

>>8616
How does IRC work? I know what the acronym stands for, and I've heard it's easy to use, but how does one actually do it?

Test No-01

mr guro! Big fan. I have a question, what studio do you use?

>>27722
Thanks for the answer, maybe I will learn Photoshop too.
I like the cum effect and blood you make

Any hangings?

Usually, patreon is a plataform that we can have access to the product while it is being produced. To pledge just to have my name in it is not my cup of tea. I'd rather wait untill the launch and hope for its price be low.

I tried finding you but the search bar won't say where a re you, any help?

>>24408
Go for Evil boos saga 2d patreon on google

The game is out, you can get it on steam and in other places ;) It's a tomb rider like clone with lots of sex and custom chars.It has some flaws like an impressive char editor but with moderate impact in your char, dificult controls lack of interactivity with some enviroment, lack of interactivity with npcs and so on, but i found myself enjoying it a bit, it has that old style adventure game feel.But after i was donw with it I had no impulse to play it again, i give this one a 6!

Since it is still at the same site, but different, I'll breach the story line and display a creative pic or pics.

Becky was killed early with just two arrows well placed. Remember the on brave saying, "We'll get back to her. She will die." She did die, fully clothed. The Comanche did not leave things that way. They never did. This is the last of the series. I need a break.

Pushed up as suggested.

Pushed up as suggested.

18 (Sun) 06:31:04 No.20031



File: 1518330663734.jpg (1.72 MB, 1920x1200, 19!abTxtMoreWaiting.jpg)
That look that isn't there. Where does he go? A beautiful active boy is now flesh and bone and hair.

Forbidden Feast, good artist but prices for everything is scary.

>>11762
I'm pretty sure ForbiddenFeast isn't the artist.

Artist went by the name of FantasyHunt and she got out of the genre several years ago. She took down all of her stuff on DeviantArt.

Does someone still have her works, then? I did a light search and I couldn't find anything.

No, I do not believe in that PUA nonsense.
Humans do not have that kind of hierarchy. they build a hierarchy in the different ways than animals who rely on their physical power.

Human power is essentially defined by the number of connections they have
You do not need any skills or strength for that. You just need to make as many friends as possible who can provide you help when needed.
and when you have many connections you can start acting as a hub, which connects those people to each other.

Essentially this is all about the social network. The person who has the highest amount of connections to people with highest total power is "alpha" but you do not know how many connection or friends that person has, so it is impossible to tell who is real "alpha".

Alpha proclaimed by PUA is nothing else than a narcissist. Who makes the extraordinary effort to show themselves but this does not provide any tangible benefits. it just cost a lot of resources and exposes them to the significant danger. those people are nothing more than clowns who entertain public and that way become somewhat popular, but they do not have any real power.

To varying extents.


There are people who are more dominant or submissive, and it can shift with who's energetic and what's at hand. And besides the ranking of who's most ofte. first to decide what they're about (at a given moment, anyway), there are alien factors that can't be applied the same to packs. An individual with PTSD might cower when they're in a fine situation, or be a total wild card.

It's not a simple "calling shots is good" thing tho. Exhibit A: People causing pointless drama just to feel alpha. Being a loud obnoxious drama queen doesn't make you alpha. People who either oppose a good call or ar hi e tooth and nail over every petty thing, and even those who lord their position of being in charge over others, as that breaks down pack integrity, are idiotic. Being alpha might generally feel good if you're actually qualified to call the shots, but leaning back and being B type, is fine too.

In short, it's as much about energy and being the face of your group as strength and courage.
One might be thr alpha in that he instinctively speaks for your clan, another in that he decides where to spark or whatever. Each simply initiates their decisions proactively without being told to, and perhaps one's an athlete who's charismatic, the other a traumatized druggie that gives no fucks and is the first to fight or wear your girlfriend's panties.

Hi

>>7466

The slutty, slutty part of me wishes this was a real thing, but like... there is an objective answer to this. It's been studied to death, and the answer is no. It's impossible to fit 50% of the world into only two personality types, and behavior is much more the result of social conditioning than anything innate. So with men, we see populations molding to whatever that society has conditioned men to believe is culturally "male" in that society, and it changes with time.

Aggression = Male is a relatively new thing. Victorian gentlemen would be AGHAST at us placing such importance on fisticuffs.

Crying = Feminine is so new that there exist movies that show a zeitgeist where the exact opposite was true. Until REALLY recently, like the 1970s level recently, crying was a manly thing to do. Sparacus cries, Gilgimesh cries, dude in old war movies cry.

So... personality is largely based on culture- there just aren't any innate traits to pick out. And I'm not honestly sure what the "alpha" and "beta" thing is all about- in my head an "Alpha" is the jock dudebro and the "Beta" is the nerdy kid- but like... the nerds watched DBZ and found out that you could get ripped and then go play video games about it. The culture changed in such a way that "nerd" shit became mainstream, and we've got guys who get ripped as shit for their 300 cosplay. Because of that, of how in-flux this thing is, there's no way to classify all men into two categories, and when classification is impossible and overlap is such that a ven diagram would be a circle- then it's just not a real thing.

Having said that, if we assign the term "Alpha" to "having leadership qualities" and "Beta" to "Being good in group dynamics and shying away from leadership"- and also drop the gendered notion, then that IS a real thing, and it's largely focused on a psychological concept called Locus of Control that IS innate and genetic, and can be observed as early as three months. But I'm almost positive that that's not what you're talking about and there are 5 levels, not 2, and they're pretty fluid based on things like current mood, developmental level, and emotional intelligence.

I think I do, but not for the reason the idea generally gets traction for. In wolves, the development of an alpha/beta mentality is the result of captivity stress. Specifically, wolves naturally live in family groups led by a male and a female and comprising mostly of their offspring and other blood relations. When captive, these naturally social animals are thrown in with other animals of no relation to themselves. The alpha/beta competitive mentality is derived from a confusion of whether the peers in your group are supporting you or competing with you. Humans are far more generally social, but the conditions are recreated by our culture rather than instinct. Most men are taught from childhood to be extremely competitive with their peers, and that expressions of natural emotional vulnerability are a weakness. We've artificially created the conditions for alpha/beta mentality in our own species by incentivising conflict amongst our peers over our emotional needs.

posted the wrong picture - the machine was a pole alot like this

This ?

>>11693
thank you

bump

bump

bump in the hope of this thread coming back to life with the new site!

Hot story, especially liked the first 2 parts

Bump on the off chance of more?

I had fun with this! Personally I prefer struggles and such, but the air dancing girl and the deep kiss of the head were really fun parts of this for me.
Plus just generally thinking of a world with more or less glorified snuff

Fantastic Story. Thank you so much for writing it. I loved it.

this is so cute!

This really should be continued

I know this is unlikely to be continued, but it's adorable. Bump for those who have never seen it

whats your patreon

he (kind of) did a beheading with dva's head crushed under reinhardt's hammer