Hey guys. First time posting. Long story short I have no one to ask for help reviewing a WIP of a story I've written, so I turned to Gurochan.

I need reviews, tips, and help and comments on my writing in general. The story is rather mild for Gurochans standards, and is meant to be read more as Erotica than straight-up pornography. I feel that it sort of jumps sexually at the end and need help regulating the mood of the story.

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TAGS-(WWII, Wound fucking, Mild, Reader(Russian Gravedigger Volunteer)xGhost of German Soldier, Non-Con, Semi Public, Reverse-Nazisploitation)

80 years later I still am on a scavenger hunt, exhumator turned adventurer. I find the corpses not in a single hole in the soil, but from belt buckles wedged in the trees, rusted sporks and mess-tins laying at the bottom of swamps, from shining red stars atop the long-gone cotton of well-used caps.

On all of it is inscribed God's absolute will of death, and I pick them up from their forgotten, decrepit corners and polish them back to a respectful liveliness in Rossoschka, delivered in white plastic bags full of bones. I am a volunteer, guilty of tremendously enjoying cleaning up after my ancestor's messes, guilty of enjoying those private pleasures of wars horrors when I successfully unearth another frail skull.

It brings a feverish joy to think that horror possesses so great a beauty. This I am proven every time I visit the cemetery. I trail my fingers across the long marbles of all 'nemetsky' names, in a foreign language I cannot pronounce, silently searching for familiar Cyrillic in alien Latin. I spend more time across the street in the Soviet section with my proud grandfathers. The land is well nourished by the blood soaked into it, and it protects them well, returning them to their simplest origins. My eyes become wet at the holy, sacrosanct sight of the Motherland united again in embrace with her brave children, pressed into her dirt bosom.


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Here we go again...

I am Aoi Hikari and I mostly write consensual and casual guro with underage characters. My favorite theme is when sex and death are just innocent children's games, and it doesn't even need to include actual sex or be sexual for the characters.
Most of my works are fanfiction on established characters, mostly Ayanami Rei, Kinomoto Sakura and the Kagamine twins (if you can consider the twins established, as for the sake of my stories they're mostly established in my own work Innocence).

You can find my works in both English and Russian on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoi_Hikari
Recently I've also uploaded my English works to pixiv: https://www.pixiv.net/en/users/12229410

[dismemberment]

Mary and Cindy stood in the dimly lit registration hall of the Harvest Lottery Center, their hearts pounding as the massive screen flashed the results. 'Losers: Mary Thompson, Cindy Reyes.' The words burned into their retinas. A huge cash prize dangled for winners, but for them, it meant the chop. They turned to each other, eyes wide with shared dread, then sighed deeply, shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Fuck it," Mary muttered, pulling out her phone. "Might as well call the families now. Tell them to swing by after we're... processed." Cindy nodded, her fingers trembling as she dialed her husband. 'Hey, babe, we lost the lottery. Come pick me up from the center in about an hour. Yeah, you know what that means.' Mary's call to her brother was the same—short, resigned, laced with the unspoken horror.

They shuffled toward the harvesting room, a sterile chamber buzzing with low murmurs and the sharp tang of antiseptic. Inside, a dozen other women milled about, some chatting nervously, others already peeling off clothes. Mary and Cindy stripped naked without a word, their bodies exposed under the harsh fluorescent lights—Mary's curvy frame with full hips, Cindy's leaner build with pert tits. They handed their purses and phones to a bored attendant behind a plexiglass counter. "Booth 7," he grunted, barely glancing up.

The booth loomed like a coffin of steel and glass, doors hissing open. They stepped in side by side, backs pressed against the cold restraints that snapped around their torsos. A robotic voice droned: "Harvesting commencing. Remain still. Duration: under five minutes."

Blades whirred to life first at their shoulders. Mary's arms jerked as diamond-tipped saws bit into flesh, slicing through muscle and bone with a wet screech. Blood sprayed in arcs, her screams ripping out: "You fucking bastards! Aaaargh!" The left arm thudded to the grated floor, severed clean at the shoulder joint, stump gushing crimson. Cindy's right arm followed, the saw grinding through humerus, tendons snapping like guitar strings. "Shit! Motherfucking shit!" she howled, her face contorting as the left went next, pain exploding in white-hot waves.

Legs next—no mercy. From their hips down, the blades descended. Mary's thighs quivered as the saw carved into her femurs, bone dust flying, flesh parting in ragged flaps. "Goddamn it, stop! Fuuuuck!" Her legs crumpled away, knees and calves hitting the floor in a bloody pile, femoral arteries spurting. Cindy's screams overlapped, "Cocksuckers! You goddamn cocksuckers!" as her legs were hacked off at the pelvis, hips bucking involuntarily, pooling blood slicking the booth floor.

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I had to restart this thread. The story I wrote wasn't ready and I didn't prooread it properly so instead of just deleting the story I thought a clean slate was preferable.

This thread will be for posting one-shot stories set in my FOR THE GOOD OF HUMANITY Universe. I would prefer this space be used for my writings only, if at all possible.

And yes Edward, I will be writing that story you asked for ;)

A place for anyone to muse on the depravity of cutting off a woman's arms and legs and treating them like helpless fucktoys. A community project where anyone is free to contribute with their own stories about limbless girls and women. Heavy rape kink. Loli content allowed. Have fun everybody.

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I kick my feet up on my new footstool. Her name is Sandra, and three weeks ago I abducted her on her way home from night classes. I knocked her out, drugged her so she wouldn't wake up, then dragged her into my car and took her home with me. She's been living with me ever since.

Sandra doesn't like being my footstool. I can tell because she keeps fidgeting and trying to wriggle out from under my heels. She lets out muted cries of discomfort and shakes her head angrily, but that doesn't mean a thing to me.

The night I abducted Sandra, I amputated all her limbs and had her vocal chords cut out.

Sandra is a pretty woman. A very pretty woman. With her wavy light-brunette hair and her sensual, slender figure, she could have gotten any man she wanted.

Now, she's a very pretty torso. And she's all mine.

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The job advertisement only said that the applicant had to be in the bloody week of their period. No experience necessary. It was for some kind of show.

So, the ten girls that accepted the job were just asked to step up to a stage in front of some patrons.

First, they were asked to prove they were in their period. So they had to remove their pants, panties (¿Underwear?) and show everyone their bloodied tampons and tissues. Two girls didn't want to do this and instead stepped down the stage, forfeiting their payment.

The remaining eight were allowed to put their pants back on and we're then asked to remove their shirts, T-shirts, tops or blouses. One girl didn't want to and stepped down. They were asked to also remove their bras, leaving their tits hanging. One other girl though this was enough and also stepped down. It was a little bit cold so that caused the exposed nipples of the six remaining blushing girls to be erect for every patron to see.

A man with a microphone approached one of the girls, followed by an assistant with two bricks in his hands. He asked: "Do your tits hurt when you are on your period?".

"Now that you ask, yes, they are very sensitive right now. They always get bigger during my period and that's very uncomfortable, as they feel like they are going to burst any minute. Please don't even touch them".

The assistant suddenly smashed one of her tits with the two bricks, causing her mammary to pop in a party of blood and GRASA. The girl screamed her lungs out and fell in the floor, bent in pain.

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Jackson Riordan sat by the window of the bus and stared blankly at the scenery whizzing by. Woodland, open field, woodland, the occasional glimpse of a farm building, then another stretch of forest. Two hours remained before the deadline to report to the local processing center.

The smartwatch on his wrist had pulsed red. That moment was burned into memory. The way his classmates stared. The slow walk up to the front of the class. Mister Evans the English teacher undoing Jackson's blazer, his belt, his trousers, his boxers until he stood nude. His girlfriend Stella had looked away when he walked past her towards the classroom door. In a daze, he sat through the counsellor meeting listening but not really hearing. Jackson was 14, a virtuoso with a baseball bat and captain of the Salmon Run High School Sockeye baseball team. Girl classmates would swoon if they caught his eye. He had a dream of going to the MLB. All of that potential ended the day the lottery had, through algorithmic randomization based on food supply and consumer demand input, chosen a different path for him.

Jackson Riordan, age 14, 5' 4", 112lbs, Animal ID code USDA-JR512724. His future was as a packet of steaks occupying a fridge at a Conversion Market meat aisle.

With each stop, more Animals boarded the bus. One meatgirl bounced into the seat next to Jackson. Puberty was midway through filling out her curves, her ginger curls bouncing alongside her rather sizable breasts as she chattered away. Her name was Jaimie, 14 years old. Either her well of bravado ran deeper than Jacksons', or she was just naturally optimistic. She was very convinced of her ability to gain a reclassification into "Companion Animal" status for some wealthy old man. Jackson imagined the "duties" Companion Animals had to perform, and couldnt help but feel his passenger had a very naive view of the role. He felt Jaimie's chest brush against his arm as she fiddled with the bus seat TV. She smelled of some faint rose perfume.

Minutes ticked over.

Some people could maintain their chipperness about being an Animal right up until they were sitting on the final bed they would ever sleep in, looking at the final bedroom they would ever use and realizing just how close they are to no longer existing. They would no longer animate the corporeal form they had inhabited for the past 12 or 13 or 14 or 24 years. No longer be able to sense anything, feel or touch or taste or smell or think.

Jaimie was sobbing. Hot tears dripped down and wet Jackson's thigh. He held her tightly. His father had instilled a belief in men being in control of their emotions. Yet, he too felt his stomach churn. Within days or even hours, he too would no longer exist in this world. Jackson's pale young skin sliced open. His internal organs removed, a blade slicing through his neck, blood draining and squirting past expert hands. He wondered morbidly whether one of his buddies from the baseball team would end up enjoying Jackson-meat tomorrow.

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Hi all, I'm at a point with my expositional Sidney story where I could wrap it up (I have the ending written already) or add more if it's needed and so I need your help! If you are familiar with the world my stories take place in, comment below with any questions you have about Sidney herself so I can check if the story has already answered them or whether further chapters are needed! Thanks in advance and I love you all!

Slut.

There she stands, propped against a pole in the subway carriage. Perky nipples straining against the thin fabric of her tight white cropped top.

Head bowed towards her cell phone screen and earphones shutting out the outside world, her tits undulate invitingly as she giggles at the contents of whatever messages she's reading.

Most provocative is her stance: she steadies herself in the swaying carriage. Her creamy legs shoulder-width apart. The skin of her thighs seem to glow. Wrapped around her bum is the briefest pair of purple shorts. The crotch of the thin fabric clings to her mons like a second skin. A cleft is acutely visible to all, revealing the curves of her cunt lips.

Isn't she aware of the camel toe she's sporting?

Maybe she knows, but doesn't care.

Or maybe she wants people to look.

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CHOP!
Sarah's Big Day
By
Edward Hyde


It was Sarah’s big day and she could not be more excited! Although the concept of “birthdays” was something that had never been discussed with her, just a word overheard from customers sometimes when they came to select a piggy for their dinner, usually talked about with a tone of excitement, she knew all about Anniversaries and what they meant. Today was her fourth Anniversary, four years to the day since she was born, and that meant only one thing – time for the chop! In a few minutes, she would line up with her remaining litter-sisters and take her turn kneeling on the straw, resting her neck on the wooden block, then all the others who were still waiting for their special day to come would gather to watch, counting down from five, shouting “CHOP!” upon reaching zero then cheering as the farmer brought down his axe and cut the piggy’s cute little head off. No matter how many times they witnessed and participated in this ritual, which could be as often as several times a day in busy seasons, it was still the most fun thing they knew and made them all yearn for their own moment in the spotlight.

Of course, not all piggies even made it to their fourth Anniversary, with many purchased by hungry families or restaurants beforehand or used to fill special orders and every day on the farm carried the excitement for all but the tiniest of piggies, not yet eligible for harvest, that today could be their big day, but there was certainty that any who reached their fourth Anniversary would be harvested on that day, so Sarah had spent the past few weeks growing ever more excited, confident that she would get the chop that day if not before. Now the day was here!

It had been the more than three centuries since Sidney Roebuck had changed the world and opened people’s eyes, not to mention their stomachs, to the delights of girl-meat! Despite some opposition at first and one global blip in the early decades, the custom had gained popularity steadily ever since, becoming so much an established part of western culture that hardly anyone thought to even question it, with school, churches and other public institutions serving Girl and sometimes even Boy at social events, although there was never any real doubt in most peoples’ minds that Girl was the superior meat. It was normal, to the point of causing confusion and consternation if it did not happen, for the bridesmaids to provide the centre-piece of any wedding feast and family or neighbourhood cookouts were common-place. Public parks and beaches also set up rentable barbecue pits for public use and, of course, restaurants and chains such as Sidney’s, La Fille, Jessie T’s, MAXX, Wendigo, Gingerbread and Gretel’s were staple establishments in every town. There were also butchers who either specialised in girl-meat or included it among their other offerings and various abattoirs with custom facilities specifically for processing human volunteers.

The popularity of human meat in general, specifically Girl, however, led to its own problems. As it became more popular and accepted, the demand rose, with supermarkets beginning to offer it on their shelves, both fresh and frozen, long-established fast food chains switching their primary ingredient to compete with the newer, specialist outlets and the public appetite for affordable girl-meat growing exponentially year on year.

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**Heavy Dead Dove: Do Not Eat,**
heed the tags,
what it says on the tins,
need i say more ?

**Content:** Extreme Gore, detailed cannibalism, failed abdominal suicide, slow painful death while conscious, organ consumption, black comedy, nihilism

if you continue reading after these warnings and get offended, that's 100%, no... 1000% on you.

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**The Last Monday**
*A Garfield Fanfiction*

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Five bunny girls relaxed on a beach, soaking up all the sun they could. Clair took a long sip of her cocktail. She let out an exaggerated sigh as she settled back into her chair. “Oh my god I needed this”

“Right?”Katie never looked up from her phone as she spoke. “Thank god we were able to scrape together the cash. I always knew Sophie's big tits would be good for something” She swiped to her profile. At the top of her posts a photo of the nude Sophie she had taken at the butcher shop. She was looking away from the camera with an annoyed look, her ears pulled back.

“She’s so cute when she’s grumpy~”, the blonde cooed over the picture. The post was flooded with comments. Remarks on Sophie’s body, some questioning where they could buy her meat. Katie’s fingers flew over the keyboard answering every one.

“Girl is that thing glued to your hand or something? Put it down! Enjoy the view!”Jessica called out as she and Layla made their way back from the water. Layla had at least put on a bathing suit but Jessica had decided she was too hot for clothing. Katie looked up with a smirk. “Oh I’m enjoying the view alright.” She snapped a quick pic of the two before putting down her phone. With her hands freed up she pulled Jessica down into a heated make out session.

“It’s getting pretty late, you girls wanna go grab some food?” Layla’s question pulled Clair’s attention away from the horny pair next to her. She sighed and reluctantly pushed herself up. “Yeah I guess I could eat. C’mon guys let's pack up! Wrap it up you two!” The grinding pair protested but eventually pulled away from each other. Katie landed a hard slap on Jessica's rear as she walked away causing Jessica to squeal in delight.

Clair’s eyes scanned around for their fifth friend and found the red haired girl with her head between a wolfman's legs. “Holly! You coming?” Holly’s ear twitched to the side when she heard her name. She pulled away to answer but before she could get a sound out clawed hands forcefully pushed her head back down.

“You won’t be seeing her again.” The large wolf man answered for her. Judging by Holly’s face this was news to her, but she made no attempt to pull away again. Not like she could even if she wanted to. She glanced their way for a moment and gave an awkward shrug. “I want what she’s having,” Katie joked, snapping a quick pick of the red head before they made their way back to the hotel.

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Well, a couple of weeks ago I was contacted by mail, asking if I would do a commission. I don't, but the idea he proposed intrigued me and I couldn't resist giving it a try. It helped that I managed to blend ideas from a few abandoned projects into this one, and I was in the mood for a consensual "dolcett style" story.

I don't know if this is what he had in mind, but I like how it turned out, and I thought I might post it here. Here is the first 1/3 of the story. If enough people like it I will post the rest next week, so let me know if you like it.

M/f, cons, sex, anal, incest, throating, snuff, beheading, impalement, noose, stabbing, meat girl


disclaimer: This story is entirely fictional, along with all characters and events described in it. Any resemblance with real life is just a coincidence. Harming another human being is wrong and in no way I am trying to convey the opposite. Please, don't do anything like this!

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“I don’t wanna go, mom… please…” Valerie pleaded to her mom, for the fourth time in the last hour.


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CHAPTER ONE

Himari Aoi had been an idol since she was nine. By thirteen she was famous enough that strangers could recognize her voice before they ever saw her face.

Now she had a week to live.

She sat alone in her apartment, one that she used when she was away from her parents for long periods, staring at the watch wrapped around her wrist as if it might change its mind. The display glowed a steady, unmistakable red, the countdown beneath her name ticking away in quiet, indifferent seconds.

Congratulations, Himari Aoi. You have been selected for Processing.

She had read the message so many times that the words no longer felt real. They simply existed on the screen, as cold and ordinary as a train schedule.

Her agent had gotten the notification that she had converted and he had called to make sure she was inside before taking off her clothes.

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I’ve been working on this system for a while and decided to repost it as a full revision rather than keep updating the original thread. The previous version worked, but it felt too rigid in places and didn’t leave much room to actually use it. This version is meant to function more as a structured sandbox than a fixed rule set.

This will be the only time I'll do this. If I keep going back to it, it'll just being to overexplain like it did before.