I'm absolutely uncertain how this hasn't been made yet. But I'm writing this as a sort of break from trying to come up with stuff for Tor, or Bottom. It's actually been really relaxing.

Anyway, this is a story based on the first Dark Souls game, I would have made one for Demon Souls first but I was never able to get my hands on any sort of Play Station. This wouldn't have been posted here at all as I feel it's in need of some heavy editing, but I decided to do so anyway as the game's remake is cominf out soon.

Needless to say, there WILL be spoilers and opinion based lore translations either based on my own interpretation or made for the purpose of writing this character. Please let me know what you think and drop any suggestions you have as a comment, as with most writers I love to know what the people who read what I've written thing of it.

***

Escaping the Asylum. (Gore, death, no sex, zombie)

I remember the first time I died. The moment was hardly special, some Cleric Lord had been coming too quickly down the street as I turned the corner, I don’t even think he stopped. I remember staring up at the sky and wondering how I had ended up on the ground, trying to sit up only to realise the arm I was trying to push myself up with was no longer there. I cannot remember turning my head, but I remember seeing my arm laying on the street along with the lower half of my body. It was surreal then, I don’t think that I formed a single coherent thought that entire time my consciousness was fading, though I do remember the pain flaring back to the surface near the end, pushing through the shock my mind and body been forced into.

I don’t remember waking up after that, though I feel it must have been days later given the state of my body. They probably killed me again as soon as they noticed the Darksign emblazoned in me, packed me in a cart with the rest of the undead and carted me away to the asylum like I’ve seen done hundreds of times before. For some reason i never thought it would be me in that cart, in hind sight I doubt many do.

But now here I am, a rotted husk left to continue rotting in this cell. I spent some time exploring it when I was first left here. I don’t know if I was trying to find a way out or something to eat aside from these undead rats or anything really. But I did find this sword, broken and rusted as it is, barely more than a handle now, but it feels comforting in my hand. I think I was a mercenary, back in Thorolund, maybe some kind of body-guard because I’m wearing armour, simple and cheap I’m fairly sure they meant to bury me in it before they discovered my condition. But still, this too is comforting.

I’m not certain how long he’s been crouching there, staring at me. But I know he’s there, even if I haven’t looked at him. He’s wearing heavy armour, by the sound his footsteps made when he walked over to the hole in my ceiling and looked down at me, but I haven’t looked up to check. I didn’t think that humans guarded the Undead Asylum, I thought that was left to the malformed beasts brought low by the Gods. Still, I can think of no other reason for him to be here.

I feel my face trying to redden in shame after I jump when he drops a body, even more rotted than I, directly in front of me. I’m not certain why I’m ashamed about being startled, perhaps because I was so stoically refusing to acknowledge him and my sulking petulance caused me to miss him dragging it over.

I look up at him, then back down to the body. There is a key embedded in its back. I look up at him again, and somehow I know it’s the key to my cell. I can almost feel him smiling even through his helmet. It’s infuriating, but endearing all the same. This little bit of light coming to me even in this rank place, what kind of man must he be to aid some simple Undead without a clue as to who they are? He nods, almost imperceptibly, then stands and walks away.

I find myself staring at the body for many minutes, perhaps even hours. Then I look down at my hand. Even through the glove I can feel the small ring on my middle finger of my left hand. I don’t remember her face, but her crackling little voice pierces my mind as clearly as the day she had given the piece of jewellery to me. “Thou, young warrior, thou hath not yet been tested. Oh do not look upon me so, whatever thou hath experienced will be brought again one thousand-fold fold upon ye, and yet ye will forge on, never ceasing until found is that end ye seek. Take this, this ring. It shall offer thee comfort when least it is expected. And it will be needed.” Her voice trails off in a laugh, more a wheezing rattle than a cackle as I recall.

The next thing I know, I am pulling that key from the corpse I’ve been given and moving toward the cell door. Questions flutter through my mind, “Why am I doing this? What is the point? What could I, of all people accomplish?”. But I feel a swell of determination and the gate swings open to reveal the no less depressing, but much more open, hallway beyond.

I make my way slowly down this hallway, the sounds of dry, ragged breathing coming at me from the nearest cells, containing undead nearly as emaciated as the one that was dropped into my cell, they stare and exist but I know that they do nothing more. I am nearly at the end of the hall before I notice it, a constant sound to me by now, but louder than it yet had been. A rhythmic thumping that shakes the crumbling stone tiles that I walk on. My head turns slowly to my right and I see it. A massive, bloated beast, covered in thick grey-green skin that falls in flabs over it. Horns wreathe its head, wings in a pathetic approximation of the Everlasting Dragons I remember hearing of from the Maidens, it takes a moment of staring, but then I see a massive flaccid flab of flesh dragging along the ground between its stocky legs. I turn ahead and make my way quickly out of the hallway and up the set of stairs beyond, hoping not to draw the thing’s attention.

I pass several other undead, but they are no more coherent than the rats that moved through my cell, and I do my best to ignore them and how I close I came to becoming one of them. It is after a long climb up a ladder out of a cistern that I find it, an open courtyard. The walls are still high and oppressive, but I can see the sky cold and grey as it may be. Thunder drowns out the still rumbling footsteps of the thing bellow and sparse plants bring some comfort, I find a small flower, grey like everything else here. It is a weed, I know this, but I still tuck it into the armour over my left breast where I can still feel the Darksign burning.

Better than any of these however, there is a sword. It looks flimsy, charred and perhaps poorly made. It is jammed into the earth, with burnt piles of what appear to be bones. But it is still a better weapon than this broken thing I hold. I move toward it, reaching out. But then my Darksign flares just before I can touch the thing, a burning sensation shooting through my arm and into the blade. A fire catches in the small mound of bones and ashes, the flame drawing me to sit.

It is some time before I realize that I’ve been resting here, all thought of taking this weapon gone, simply gazing into the flame as it twirls in a slow dance around the charred, coiled blade. But I must press on, this I know.

Standing from my place I look about the courtyard. The most obvious place to go is a massive set of double-doors up a set of stairs. I also note a smaller door set into the masonry to my right, but decide to look that way after investigating the massive gates.

They are easier to open than I had expected, though the reinforced wood is heavy and the hinges are rusted I am able to get them open after a few seconds of effort. Through them I find what seems to be some sort of destroyed chapel with another set of smaller doors on the other side. I am making my way toward them when that massive beast from down bellow, near my cell falls directly in front of me. No, not the same beast. This one is smaller, though not by much, and holding a gigantic hammer rather than the spear-like weapon I’d seen on the other. None the less, it is massive and not happy to see me. I cannot imagine it will do much, but I attempt to strike it with my broken sword, the decimated blade simply deflecting off of the thing’s hide. I hear it laughing, rolls of flesh jiggling before I feel myself crushed between its club and the stone tiles beneath us.

I jolt awake at the small fire I had lit in the courtyard only meters away. The doors are closed again, but I can still feel the pain of my splintered ribs piercing my sides. I decide to check what might be through the smaller door at the side of the courtyard.

It’s locked.

With a bit of trepidation I make my way back to the massive doors that led to where the disgusting demon had been found. I find the room empty yet again, but looking up I can see it through a hole in the ceiling. I imagine it waiting for me or any others to try to and make it through the door at the other side. I take my time now, studying the area for an advantage against the beast, in doing so I notice a small doorway to the left side of the large room that could once have been a grand hall. The portcullis is open, and looks thick enough from here that I wonder whether the demon might not be able to break through if I were to make it past.

It was waiting for me this time, I’m certain of it. It falls in the same place as before as I run toward the small doorway, but what had once been a flaccid mass of flesh dragging between its legs is now standing erect, nearly as long as I am and wider than my own body with almost as many rolls of fat and skin as the rest of it. I do my best not to dwell on this, focusing instead on pushing myself toward the doorway.

When I am running straight for it the run seems almost trivial, he is far too slow and I slip beneath the portcullis long before his hammer slams down. I hear the metal opening slam shut behind me, and wonder how that happened just as I hear and feel his hammer slam into the rusted metal. But it holds strong, prompting a roar of rage from the monster while I do not slow my sprint even as I run down a set of stairs and find myself standing before another coiled sword.

After lighting this and taking a nearly irresistible rest beside the flames I move through the dank area the only way I know I can go without heading back to the monster with the hammer. I’ve barely turned the corner when an arrow finds it’s way into my chest, sprouting from directly between my breasts. My armour takes the brunt of the damage, and I feel more able to continue with a wound like this than I would when I was alive, allowing me to take cover in a cell to the left, prying a shield from a mummified body within.

I’m in a hallway, similar to the one I had been placed though clearly higher in the asylum than my own given I could see sky through a hole in the roof. At the end of the hallway is another nearly mummified undead, this one is holding a bow and firing arrows at me down the hall. I lift my shield and move slowly toward it, deflecting each shaft that comes my way with relative ease. The thing shooting at me runs away as soon as I get near, ducking into another hallway to my left and disappearing.

I find a longsword on a corpse in the hallway, fairly kept though old. I am still examining it when the archer reappears not ten feet from me. I lift the shield and feel an impact, moving forward once more and blocking another arrow. I lower my shield and take the thing’s mouldy shoulder in my left hand, jamming my blade into its stomach and letting it drop to the floor with a hissing gurgle. It’s more satisfying than I’d like to admit.

After some exploration I find the other side of the locked door from the courtyard, a pleasant surprise that allows me some rest to recover from that arrow in my chest. Flames flicker over my body, bringing warmth, comfort and a tingle of pleasure while they heal the wound. This feels oddly natural and I hardly want to leave. But I do, working my way up a staircase when i find a massive metal ball rolling down toward me. I lift my shield, managing to be forced to the side rather than crushed beneath it, still ending up on my ass with bruises and scrapes, but alive. Looking back I can see that the iron sphere made a hole in the wall across from the staircase.

Curiosity gets the better of me more often than I think it should. Inside, to my surprise, I find the man in heavy armour who had dropped the key to my cell to me. He does not look well, his leg at an awkward angle and his breathing ragged. Looking up I can see that he likely fell through a hole in the roof, given the state of his body perhaps he was helped through by the demon up there.

As I approach him, his helmeted head turns to face me and I hear a young voice call out. “Oh, it’s you, I’m Oscar of Astora. I’m glad that you made it out of there. I’m done for I’m afraid, but we’re both undead. If you would... would you hear me out?” I consider for but a moment, he had helped me when I was at my worst not but hours ago, I could not very well deny him.

“Of course.” Is all I can say, kneeling beside him, feeling the thin layer of water that lay over the floor soaking around the leathers of my armour. He speaks of his failure, that he will go hollow just like those things in their cells, as all undead do eventually. But he then speaks directly of his mission, how an undead is meant to leave this prison and go ring a bell to awaken some... thing. And that doing so would allow one to learn the “Fate of the Undead”. He then with some difficulty passes me a small flash filled with some sort of warm liquid, and a key.

“I do not have much time, left. You should go, I would hate to harm you after death.” He finishes, a gloved hand lifting and stroking the tips of his fingers across my face. I cannot not help but smile. This man had helped me, not only by releasing me from that cell, but by giving me something to strive for. I need that, I can feel it. An impossible task to push towards all of my lives. A purpose.

“Thank you.” I say, lifting his visor on an impulse and leaning down. He looks human, rather than like a corpse. I wonder how he did that for a moment before I press my lips to his. I hear a quiet gasp, but pull away from him and begin walking out the hole I had come before he can do anything more.

A few more hours of exploring and many fights with the resident ill-equipped undead I find a place that I recognise. It looks to be the back of the room I had been crushed by the giant demon in, though I am some ways up I can hear his growling breath through the doorway and down, likely still waiting for me to come through one of the doors.

A surprise attack then. I wonder if I might be able to land on top of him, using my weight to drive this sword through his thick hide. There is nothing for it but to try, so with a running start I leap off the balcony into the dreaded room, finding the beast directly bellow me. I angle my weapon down even as he looks up, the massive shaft of flesh I hardly even dare name still erect before him.

I come down on his back as he flinches away from my plunging blade. I feel my sword sink into his flesh and past what I assume to be bone with a scraping sound before wrenching it out and sliding down his huge body to the floor. He roars in pain and attempts to spin and face me at his back, though he appears to be rather encumbered by his erection, the massive thing slowing his movements just enough for me to roll to the side as he brings his wicked hammer down at my head.

It takes some doing, but I mage to begin opening his body, cutting at one side of his belly before dodging his strikes and working at the other. His skin, however thick is easily split once I have a blade in it and soon he is well and open. He drops his hammer and small arms attempt to hold his roiling intestines inside of his belly. As he sways and I realise he is about to fall, I notice too late the twitching of his member just before it sprays almost half-heartedly in front of him and onto me. It could have been worse I feel as he crashes down before me. I wipe the searing semen from my face and arms. It smells of sulphur and heat. It had been clear how he had intended to use that thing before I had fully armed myself. I am certain I got the better end of the deal.

To my surprise, his corpse simply dissolves, though the sticky mess he left behind does not it seems. But where he lay is now a large key, almost as stout as he. I take it to the door I wanted to head through from the beginning.

I had taken a few glancing blows of his hammer through our fight, but nothing that I felt was too dangerous. However, before I try the door I decide on impulse to drink from the flask Oscar gave me. I only take a sip, though a generous one. It fills my body with warmth, and this only grows. It feels like drinking the fire from where I have been resting, the pleasure and comfort moving through me is almost a shock and I let out a quiet gasp, hardly even noticing as my wounds disappear.

Through the door I find myself in a graveyard out on a cliff surrounded by nothing but mountains miles and miles away. But, more importantly I am outside of the Undead Asylum. Free to pursue this quest that Oscar spoke of. I do not linger, making my way as far away from the Asylum as I can. Something fills me as I distance myself from that place, taking root in a hole I had not realised was there deep in the pit of my stomach. I feel alive again.

As I reach the very farthest edge from the Asylum that I had learned to hate so much, I hear it, the beating of wings. It is a sound that feels comforting, not the same warmth as the bonfires from before, but something I feel a connection to. An image enters my mind of a weeping Goddess surrounded by crows, and even in that moment a massive crow appears before me, wings opening to reveal reaching claws. I almost fall into them and I am carried away.

Thread for me to post any one-off stories I write.

Bruno took a deep breath of the beach air. He knew that the outside world was not his home, he knew that his home was deep within the walls of Echaberg, or in the sinful halls of the Redway, but damn it smelt good out here.
“Well met assassin” the beautiful woman with her back turned to him said. Loa Palinic was his targets name, and she was a work of art. The islander was shorter than he expected, only crackling five foot, and she was thin to. Well she was thin save for her to luxurious sets of lumps. Her skin was tan, and her small, yet curvaceous figure covered only by a short grass skirt, and a flower-patterned top that only covered her chest. A smile crept across Bruno’s face as how ridiculous of a world he must live in, for the fact that this tiny woman slaughtered dozens of his brothers and sisters in arms.
“I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t been causing trouble for my allies” he said stepping forward. She turned to him, and her face was…Her face was wow. Even with her young features, and adorable little dimples, her expression was fierce, and her big brown eyes pierced into his very soul. He felt his heart quicken, and his cock stiffen. Now here was a woman worth killing.
“Your allies” she said, her thick black hair blowing behind her in the wind. She scowled. “I don’t think you could call them allies. You’ve had to have killed at least twice as many of them as I have” she said.
“That my dear lady” Bruno said taking another step. “Is an insultingly low number. I’ve lost count of how many I have killed, but we are Followers of Eteus, and killing is our business as are all things evil. A business you should have stayed out of might I add” he said.
“Riding the world of scum like you is my business, and I do not fear it. I will give you one chance assassin. Drop your weapon, and I will make your death painless” she said, and a powerful presence emanated from her. A strong, sturdy presence that to be put simply, meant business. “We both know you can’t beat me here. Maybe in the filthy alleyways of your city, but here in the open. You stand no chance against me in an honorable fight” she said. Bruno’s smile twisted into a grin so fowl, that calling it evil would have been cruel to all those who swore by the word. He began to radiate a presence of his own to match the battle maidens. A sickly, and hate filled presence, soaked in his blood lust.
“Oh, but I beg to differ” he said, grasping the hilt of his sword, and slowly pulling free the blade which was blacker than the abyss. He held the wicked blade in front of him. “I think because you exterminated a few rats masquerading as assassins, you’ve becomes full of yourself oh Honorable Follower of Bellow”. The dark-skinned woman grasped the shaft of a spear embedded in the sand next to her and yanked it free.
“Then have at the assassin” she said before lunging at him at incredible speed. She thrust her spear forward, and Bruno just managed to dodge. A second later, and he would have been dead. He prepared to thrust his blade, but Loa grasped her spear in both hands, and swung it like a club. The blunt side of the spear slammed into the assassin’s gut, and he was sent flying backwards, tumbling in the dirt. He rolled out of the way, just as her spear sank into the dirt where he was laying and got to his feet. He eyed her up careful. He knew that her strength was his biggest problem. Because of his high ranking in Eteus’s cult he was superhumanly strong, but he knew that even if this woman was one hundred and three years old, plagued with debilitating, diseases, and the lowest ranking member Bellows Army, her strength would still overpower his own. They however seemed to be matched in speed, so he knew that he’d have to play this just right to kill her. Loa twirled her spear overhead, and then brought it down. Bruno sidestepped, but still suffered a nasty cut on his cheek. He lunged forward, but the woman leapt backwards, avoiding the bight of his sword.
“Stop moving hot stuff. You’re making it hard to kill ya” he said as blood gushed from his gash, soaking his black and red garments, and dyeing the sand crimson. She simply scowled at him and charged forward. Bruno prepared to dodge another thrust from the spear, but instead Loa dropped the weapon, and skidded the direction Bruno was dodging. She planted her feet firmly into the sand and throw a roundhouse kick at the assassin who could only watch in horror as his attempted dodge only throw himself into the kick. There was satisfying Pow as Loa’s leg collided with Bruno. The assassin went flying, and crashed into the dirt at, his arm at an odd angle.
“Surely you see by know all your causing yourself is more pain. Surrender, and make it easier on yourself scum”. Bruno gave a pained cackle.
“And why would I do that when I’m so close to killing you?” he asked, blood covering half his face. For once, an amused smile crossed the islanders face.
“Kill me? Is it not clear that you cannot beast me in battle?” she asked.
“In battle no, but I am an assassin, not a warrior. I deal in traps, not weapons” he said holding out his good arm as if to reach for her. “And you have fallen for my trap” he said grinning. Loa gasped before a crimson red spike emerged from the puddle of Bruno’s blood next to her. She screamed in pain as the spike pierced her firm belly, blood gushing out of her mouth. Bruno grasped his sword and lunged toward her. Loa only had time to give her attacker a panicked expression, before with one smooth swing, Bruno severed her head. Her body fell to its knees as Laos head smacked into the sand with a vacant expression, her tongue hanging out. Finally, her body collapsed into the ground, tits first and began to spasm, blood gushing from her neck. Bruno whistled to himself as the poor girl’s body gave an impressive fight, kicking and lashing, squirting out more and more blood. That was one of the interesting things about the Army of Bellow. The deities influence would persist for a little bit after death, causing violent bursts of spasming. Her kicks and thrashes continued, her feet leaving trails in the sand as they kicked. Her toes curled and uncurled, and her fingers dug into the sand, trying to send sensation to a brain that no longer was attached. Finally, her spasms began to slow to minor twitches, before Loa Palinic lay completely still, headless, and very dead. The stream of blood from her head had ceased, but urine splashed onto the sand from her pussy. Bruno walked over to the dead girl, his broken arm realigning. It was a painful process, in fact it would have been less painful to snap each digit, and lib of his individually, but by the time it was done his arm was almost as good as new. He slipped of her grass skirt, admiring her perky little butt and flipping her over. Her tight pussy was covered by a deep brown bush which was soaked with piss, He reached behind her back, and undid her top, slipping it off. Her tits struck a beautiful balance between perky and large. Both where a solid handful with brown nipples on each. He ran his tongue across her stomach, enjoying the sweaty taste, his tongue sliding into her belly button. His tongue ventured further up her body to her breast where he lapped her nipples which stiffed in his. His hands went to his belt and went through the lengthy process of undoing his pants. His pants, and underwear fell to the ground, and his hard cock was already dripping pre cum. He excitedly shoved his cock into the headless girl and moaned as he felt her cherry pop. He thrusted faster, and faster, her blood and piss acting as a lubricant.
“Fuck you’re the best bitch I’ve had for a while” he said, looking where her head used to. He lifted her leg up, so her little brown foot was in his face, and ran his tongue across the sole of her foot. They tasted of sand, and sweat, but oddly sweet as well, similar to some fruits. As he lapped her lovely soles, he cam into her. Bruno pulled out, admiring his work. But he figured that he wasn’t done, a cum covered body wasn’t enough desecration. He walked over to her head and tipped it over with his foot, so she was facing him, her mouth hanging open, and pissed into her mouth. He sighed in relief. He went to his clothes to get dressed and began his trek home.

A simple Sidney's story - enjoy! :-)

Pt 1

“Are you going to have some of me?” Rosie asked for at least the eighth time, bouncing with excitement in the back of her parent’s car. She has wanted to come naked and ready to cook but her mum had insisted she at least be decent in case they had to stop for petrol along the way or got pulled over, not to mention avoiding funny looks from other drivers and pedestrians along the way. The eight year old had compromised by agreeing to wear a bikini – the one she had got on holiday when the family’s luggage got misdirected. It was lemon yellow with skimpy bottoms and a top designed to look like two fishes swimming towards each other across her chest. Her dad had thought it was a little too daring for a girl of her age but her mum had pointed out that there had been very little else and the alternative was skinny-dipping! Even so, once the family had finally been reunited with their belongings, Rosie’s parents had insisted she use the far more conservative swimsuit she had brought with her. Although she would have preferred not to be wearing anything at all, Rosie was quite pleased to have another chance to wear the fishy bikini, as she called it.

“We’ll try, we promise!” Her dad chuckled, amused rather than irritated at having to answer the question for the umpteenth time – it was nice to see his young daughter so excited and enthusiastic. “But you know we sold you to be served to the public, it’s not like we can order you specifically.”

“I know,” Rosie sighed, looking out the window and hoping they were getting close, “I’d just love you to get a taste of me!”

“We know, sweetie.” Her mum smiled warmly at her over her shoulder. “And we will try, I promise! We’ve got our table booked and we’ll try to wait for you. We just don’t know exactly when they’re going to bring you out. It depends how busy they are.”

“Yeah, I know.” Rosie said again, hoping that the restaurant was going to be busy that night and full of hungry customers all in the mood for girl stew so she would not have to wait too long to start cooking. At her health check earlier in the week, the assistant who had been dealing with her explained that her body-type was best suited to the stew pot as she was quite slim and boiling was the best way to make the most of her meat. Rosie had happily agreed, feeling that the stew pot was the most fun part of the carvery anyway, for the meat-girl at least, as she would get to sit in the slowly-heating pot serving portions of her predecessors to the diners and chatting with them, all the while adding her own flavour to the mix until she passed out and got chopped up, ready for the next girl to ladle out.

The days in between the orientation session and now had taken what felt like months to pass but the day was finally here – Rosie was on her way to Sidney’s Family Restaurant to be cooked and eaten! When her parents had first agreed that she could sign up, she had thought of putting herself on the private menu so a family or group of friends could choose to order her but she knew that could take weeks or even months before she got picked and Rosie did not think she could wait that long so had agreed to be part of the public carvery where three girls were always cooking in the public area – one on a spit, one in the oven and one, as she would be, in the stew pot!

“Well, we’re here!” Her dad grinned, pulling up in the designated drop-off area right in front of the doors. “Good luck and hopefully I’ll see you in my bowl later!” Rosie clambered over the drivers’ seat to give her dad a quick goodbye kiss before leaping from the car and heading towards the doors with her mum following close behind, struggling to keep up with the over-excited little girl.

The lobby of the restaurant had been very exciting and interesting on her first visit but now it felt like old news and she was eager to get down to business. Before she was half way across the floor on her way to the reception desk, Rosie’s bikini top was off and by the time her mum caught up with her at the reception desk, she was wriggling out of the bottoms, much to the amusement of the young woman at the desk.

“Table for two?” she asked teasingly. “Would you like to see a menu?”

“No!” Rosie practically shrieked. “I’m here to be cooked! I’m meat!” The naked little girl stood with her hands on her hips, proudly showing off her smooth and toned young body.

“Ah!” The receptionist nodded sagely. “That would explain the outfit!” Realising that she was joking, Rosie giggled and bunched up the bikini in her hand, ready to give it to her mum who arrived behind her moments later.

“Rosanna Barker.” Her mum supplied the name, followed by her date of birth.

“Ah yes, I’ve got you.” The woman smiled, looking up Rosie’s details on the computer. “You’re expected and I can see you’re ready,” she chuckled, looking at the naked little girl, “so you can go straight through. Just wait through those doors,” she pointed to the same locker-room style waiting area where Rosie had undressed when she came for her orientation and assessment, “and someone will come to collect you shortly.”

“Here you go!” Rosie thrust the yellow tangle that had been her bikini into her mum’s hand and gave her a tight hug. Warmed by her little daughter’s happiness and enthusiasm, her mum leant down to give her a kiss and a playful pat on her bare behind before the naked little girl skipped happily off towards the swing-doors that led to the waiting room.

“My husband and I have a reservation for seven o’clock?” she checked with the receptionist who confirmed the reservation on her computer. “Lovely. We’re hoping we’ll be able to see Rosie cook and get a taste of her?”

“I’ll put a note on her file.” The woman smiled. “It’s a fairly common request with carvery girls. We can’t promise but we will of course try our best.”

“Oh, I know.” Rosie’s mum smiled. “It’s just that she’s been so excited and insistent, I promised we’d try!”

“Trust me, I can relate!” the woman chuckled. “So we’ll see you around ten minutes to seven tonight and we’ll have a table waiting for you, close to the public cooking area if possible.”

“Lovely!” Rosie’s mum thanked the receptionist while shoving the discarded bikini into her handbag. “See you later!”

In the waiting room, Rosie was sitting alone on one of the wooden benches, wondering if any other girls would arrive before someone came to take her through to the kitchen. She hoped they weren’t going to make her wait there until it was time to start cooking – it was not cold but the benches were hard, especially with a bare butt, and it was kinda boring. When she had come for her tests and assessment, there had been two other girls already there and another three had arrived before they were all collected and taken for processing so she had never spent any time in this room alone.

Looking around, the room struck Rosie as a cross between a swimming pool changing room and a doctor’s waiting room, which she supposed it technically was. There was a TV in the corner turned to a channel popular with children and young teens and there were a number of magazines scattered around – slightly newer and more interesting than the ones at the doctor’s but only just! She picked one up and flicked through it idly but none of the articles caught her attention.

In preparation for being cooked, Rosie had asked her mum to tie her shoulder-length, dark brown hair into a number of neat braids, each one finished with a different brightly-coloured band. She said and fiddled with the end of one while she waited for something to happen.

It was a great relief to Rosie when the doors swung open and another girl came in, followed by her mum. After a brief hello to Rosie, the girl, a blonde about her own age but with a little more meat on her bones, started to undress, handing each garment to her mum as she removed it. While Rosie had arrived in nothing but the string bikini, this newcomer seemed to have dressed as if she were going to a party, in a silver dress with spaghetti straps over a pink bra and panties set, even ‘though she had no more need for a bra than Rosie did. Once she was completely nude, she kissed her mum and assured her that it was okay for her to leave.

“Hey.” The chubby blonde smiled, sitting down next to Rosie once they were alone. “I’m Emma.”

“Rosie.” Rosie replied. “Has someone ordered you or are you going in the carvery?”

“Carvery!” Emma grinned. “I’m really excited!”

“Hey me too!” Rosie was delighted to have someone to chat to – especially someone who might understand the way she was feeling. “I’m going in the stew pot. What about you?”

“In the over, they told me.” Emma replied, giving Rosie’s lithe body an appraising look. “They said it was the best choice for my body.”

“Yeah I can see that.” Rosie agreed. “So you’re gonna get stuffing shoved up your butt and in your pussy?”

“Yeah!” Emma laughed. “Don’t know how that’s going to feel! Probably less uncomfortable than the spit anyway!”

“I don’t know,” Rosie chuckled, “I quite fancied the spit but I’m a bit too skinny. Happy with the stew ‘though as it means I get to chat to diners while I’m cooking!”

“That does sound kinda fun!” agreed Emma. “So if you’re going on the pot and I’m in the oven, I wonder who’s going on the spit?”

As if on cue, the doors opened again and another girl walked in alone, a small backpack over her shoulder. She looked to be about the same age as the first two girls with long brown hair in a loose ponytail and cute freckles across her nose and cheeks. She was dressed simply in a t-shirt and shorts with a blue baseball cap and trainers. She looked as if she might have come straight from a sports session of some kind.

“Hey!” The new arrival grinned, seeing the two naked girls sat waiting. “I guess I’m in the right place?” Her joke broke the ice and the others introduced themselves. “I’m Bobbi, with an I!” She grinned. “Looks like I’m a little over-dressed?” She quickly stripped off her t-shirt and shorts shorts. Underneath she wore a boyish under-vest and a pair of simple black underpants which she also removed in short order, shoving everything into her bag as she did so.

“I think you forgot something!” Rosie pointed out with a giggle as Bobbi sat down next to them, apparently satisfied that she had stripped completely.

“What? My bag?” Bobbi looked puzzled. “My mum’s coming for it later. They said they’d stick it behind reception when I got through to the kitchen. I’m going on the spit by the way!”

“That’s great!” Emma chuckled, having noticed the issue at exactly the same time that Rosie had. “But won’t those melt?” She looked pointedly at their new friend’s feet that were still clad in slightly muddy trainers and sports socks!

“Oops!” The otherwise naked girl laughed, pulling the trainers off without bothering to untie the laces and shoving them into her bag on top of her other clothes. “Glad you spotted that, could have been embarrassing! Sorry,” she explained, “I’m kinda tired. My rounders team had a big game this afternoon and I didn’t want to let them down so I played before coming here.”

“Oh wow!” Rosie exclaimed, genuinely impressed, “That’s commitment! How did it go?”

“We won!” Bobbi grinned proudly. “I was the star player!” She looked uneasy for a moment and sniffed briefly at her own armpit. “They do have showers here, right? The game over-ran a bit and I didn’t have time to rinse off before I came!”

“I’m pretty sure we get scrubbed pretty thoroughly before they cook us!” Rosie assured her, grinning at the thought.

“Well that’s a relief!” Bobbi laughed good-naturedly. “For me and whoever’s gonna eat me!”

“Okay, girls!” The other set of doors, the ones that led into the kitchen, opened and a cheery looking woman in the blue polo-shirt of the kitchen staff burst in. “Great to see you’re all here! Now, who’s ready to be delicious?”

A Birthday to Remember

The man was gently roused from his slumber by the familiar sensation of a mouth around his cock. As he laid there, blinking away his drowsiness and enjoying his morning blowjob, it dawned on him that the techniques he was experiencing and the quiet moans he was hearing did not belong to the maid that was on today's morning duty. Looking down to identify his mystery guest, he recognized the familiar head of his daughter, topped by a white headpiece, her two high brown pigtails bobbing on either side. She looked up and made eye contact, smiling around his cock, before speeding up her actions. The man didn't know why his daughter was dressed up as a maid, and he didn't know why she was performing the maid's morning duties, but he decided to just lay back and enjoy. It only took a couple minutes under her practiced tongue before the man was ready to blow. He reached down and put one hand on the back of her head, gently encouraging her to take him all the way in. She did just that, running her tongue lovingly around the base of his cock as she coaxed his first load of the day down her throat.

Relaxing, the man lifted his hand. Now free, his daughter bounded to her feet. Seeing the inquisitory look on her father's face she grinned.

"Happy birthday Daddy!" she said. "Today I'm your personal maid!"

She hopped back from the bed a step and slowly spun in place, showing off her outfit. She was wearing one of the several different designs the man had selected for his staff. She wore a frilly short black skirt with white trim, partially covered by a small white apron. The top was a matching tiny white tube top, with black trim and a small black bow in the center, it hugged her slim chest snugly, the outline of her nipples visible if you looked closely. Her pretty pale stomach was left bare. She had on frilly white stockings that ended a couple of inches below the skirt, held up by black elastic woven through the tops. She had medium height black heels. Her wrists were covered by black and white cuffs, and, as he had noticed earlier, a white headpiece sat atop her head between her high pigtails. Lastly she wore the maid's collar, a thick iron ring, lined on the inside with soft black cloth, a single chain link dangling from its center.

"Do you like your present Daddy?" she asked, leaning forward slightly, hands clasped behind her back, emphasizing the slight swell of her chest.

"I do indeed." he said. "But today I'm 'Master' not 'Daddy', and if you're going to be my personal maid all day I hope you don't intent to shirk any of your duties."

"Of course not Master." she said, crawling back into his bed and latching her mouth back onto his now flaccid dick.

"Make sure not to spill a drop." he said, relaxing his bladder.

She drank it all down, a slight grimace on her face, careful not to spill a single drop.

Several minutes later the man was seated at the breakfast table. Laid out in front of him was a simple breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast, and a glass of milk. It was simpler than his usual fare, but since his daughter had made it for him personally he didn't mind. He usually enjoyed a second blowjob at breakfast and without prompting his daughter crawled beneath the table and took his member in her mouth. He had finished around half the meal before he felt his orgasm approaching. He grabbed a pigtail in each hand and pulled hard, jamming his dick as far down her throat as it would go. It took longer for her to bring him to orgasm the second time, the movements of her tongue becoming desperate in her attempt to finish him off and get access to air. He released her as soon as the last rope was shot down her throat, and in her haste she hit her head on the bottom of the table, spilling the still half full glass of milk.

"Go get a rag and clean that up." the man commanded his daughter, who was sitting with her legs splayed on the floor, coughing and rubbing the back of her head.

"Yes master, sorry master." she apologized, running off to get a rag.

While the man was eating the rest of his meal his daughter returned and began to wipe up the spill. The man watched his daughter as she bent over the table, ass swaying from side to side as she soaked up the spilled drink with her rag. Commando was the standard for his maids and the contents of her tiny skirt were fully on display.

Neither the man nor his daughter had bothered to put the man's dick away, and while he watched the highly arousing scene it began to swell once more. Without bothering to finish his meal the man stood up, moved behind his daughter, grabbed her hips, and thrust forward. She gasped as he slid deep into her soaked folds. The girl squeaked as her father grabbed one of her wrists, twisting it behind her back and pushing her forcefully down onto the table, right into the puddle of milk. He began to fuck her in earnest and the dining hall was filled with the girls lusty moans and his low grunts. The pair quickly reached climax together, the man shooting his load deep into his daughters womb as she loudly cried out her pleasure.

The man collapsed back into his chair while his daughter lay bonelessly in the puddle of milk, the pair breathing heavy as they collected themselves. Belatedly the man remembered having heard a crashing sound he had been to distracted to process. Looking down he saw that the glass had rolled off the table and shattered on the ground.

"Spilled milk and a broken glass?" the man said. "I hope you didn't assume the duties of a maid believing you'd get special treatment."

The girl pushed herself up and turned around, sitting on the edge of the table. Her white top was now nearly transparent, soaked through with milk, her cute little pink nipples hard as she met her father's eyes. Her eyes were wide as she shivered under his gaze. She wavered a moment, gulped, and opened her mouth.

"Of course not master." she said.

"Good, once you clean up this mess go to the basement and pick out which paddle you think your mistake warrants, I'll meet you there once I've finished my meal."

The girl gulped, nodded, then hopped down from the table, leaving to get a dustpan and broom.

***

The man entered the basement, the door clicking shut behind him. He had referred to the room as a basement, but aesthetically it was modeled much more like a dungeon. Faux stone siding panels covered the walls, and by default the led lights flickered dimly in their sconces along the wall, emulating torchlight. Implements of torture and worse were scattered around the room, used for punishing errant maids, though occasionally their only error may have been arousing the man's darker nature.

The man hit a switch and the lights brightened and grew steady. The room suddenly felt much less foreboding, the room was still full of the dark implements of torture, but it now had the atmosphere of a modern historical exhibit, describing the atrocities of the past rather than foreshadowing those of the imminent present. Mood was important, but today the man was more interested in seeing his victim clearly then he was in setting the stage.

His daughter was standing next to a chair. With both hands she held a tray, and on the tray sat a leather paddle. The man smiled as he saw which paddle she had chosen. Of the many paddles in his collection it was far from being the most capable of dealing damage, but it also was not one he would recommend for a couple with only a casual interest in the idea of erotic spanking. The black leather tool was around a foot and a half in length with a wide flat striking surface attached to short handle. The flat part was studded every half inch or so with a diamond shaped rivet, the shiny silver metal contrasting starkly against the matte black leather. Yes, the man thought, his daughter had made an excellent choice.

The man walked up to his daughter and picked up the paddle from the tray, never breaking eye contact with the girl. She waved under his gaze, but didn't look away, her face flushed. The man didn't know if she had picked this paddle because she was afraid of incurring harsher punishment if she picked too leniently or if she had picked it because it was the one she genuinely most wanted to be struck by.

The man took a seat on the chair and patted his thigh. The girl laid across his legs and flipped her skirt up onto her back, exposing her bottom bare. The man reached with his off hand between his daughters legs, probing at her lips. She was absolutely dripping. Some of the fluid she leaked was admittedly the cum the man had deposited earlier, but she was clearly quite aroused, probably even more so than she had been back on the dining room table. The man withdrew his hand, fingers dripping with cum and arousal, and stuck his fingers in his daughter's mouth. The girl moaned as she greedily sucked their combined fluid off his digits.

The first strike of the paddle came while she was distracted with her treat. She squealed, accidentally biting down on the fingers in her mouth. The bite wasn't hard enough to break the skin, but it still hurt quite a bit.

"Careful with the teeth. I would threaten harsher punishment, but I suspect that might have the opposite effect, so… just don't bite your master's fingers off." the man commanded.

The girl nodded, closing her eyes as she braced for further impacts.

The man began to rain down strikes, he did not count nor give any other verbal indication of incoming strikes and he didn't establish a steady rhythm. Sometimes he would follow up a strike almost immediately, sometimes he would give the skin several seconds of reprieve before the follow up. Most strikes were on the light side, these serving to set expectations such that the strong strikes stung that much more. The girl lurched forward with each strike, one would assume recoiling from the strike, but the man didn't miss her clitoris dragging along his thigh. As the strikes continued the girls yelps of pain began to tinge with lust, the man's sweatpants nearly soaking through as she smeared her arousal across them. The man could sense she was close and removed his hand from her mouth, placing it on her back, holding her in place and preventing her from lurching forward. She whined as she tried to scoot forward, looking balefully up at her father as she futilely tried to stimulate her clit. The man smiled back at her. It wasn't that he didn't want her to come, but that he wanted her to come from the pain alone. He raised his arm, his muscles tensed, and he brought down the paddle with all the force he could bear. The girl screamed as she came, losing control of her bladder as she spasmed in her father's lap, slumping spent as her scream petered out.

She roused a few minutes later, her father gently stroking her back as she laid across his lap. She met his eyes and he smiled at her.

"Welcome back, once you can stand go fetch me a fresh pair of pants." the man said.

The girl looked down at his absolutely soaked sweatpants and flushed beet red. She hastily tried to stand on wobbling legs but fell on her ass, which was even redder than her face, and let out a shrill yelp. The man threw back his head, laughing joyfully.

***

The man spent the next few hours leisurely enjoying his day, attended to hand and foot by his maid daughter. After a short walk through the grounds he enjoyed a blowjob while sitting on a concrete bench, his daughter kneeling in the dewy grass. He watched a bit of the news, his daughter bouncing in his lap, wincing every time her bruised backside met his pelvis as he fucked her ass.

Her second strike happened while she was preparing lunch. The man was doing his best to distract her while she worked, fingering her, slapping her raw bottom, and even a bit of cunnilingus while she tried to busy herself around the kitchen. Eventually it worked, an orgasm distracting her long enough that she forgot about the sourdough she had started toasting for sandwiches. She had only just turned off the toaster and opened it to let the smoke air out when her father ordered her to the basement. She opened her mouth, as if to protest that this wasn't a fair strike, but then closed it. She averted her eyes and her face flushed, it seemed she welcomed the excuse for punishment just as much as he did.

In the basement, the man affixed two iron shackles to his daughter's wrists. The chains were attached to winches in the ceiling and the man pulled her up until the girl was standing precariously on just the toes of her heeled shoes, her arms stretched in a Y-shape above her. The man retrieved a whip from where it hung on the wall, moving into position behind his daughter and letting the whip unfurl to the floor. He stayed like that for a long moment, his daughter shaking with anticipation.

A loud crack was immediately followed by an anguished cry, the girl almost losing her footing, an angry red welt now visible on her back. The man continued, the same way he had done the paddling, with no consistent force or rhythm. Welt after welt bloomed on the girls back, her tube top tearing with each strike that hit it until it fluttered to the ground. Rivulets of blood began to run down the girls back, dying the white trim of her skirt. She had completely lost her footing, nearly her entire weight now hanging on her wrists. The man had planned to pause after a while, to stick a vibrator in her to mix in pleasure with her pain until they became indistinguishable, to turn it off just before she came and to bring her to climax from just the business side of the whip. This proved unnecessary however, her anguished cries becoming more tinged with pleasure with every strike, her arousal dripping quite evidently onto the floor without any added genital stimulation. The man was amazed at how magnificent and sexy a pain slut his daughter had become in just a single day.

It seemed his daughter was on the brink of orgasm, and so the man brought the whip down hard, perpendicular across several welts that had already split and begun to bleed. The girl let out a harrowing wail, screaming out her agony and ecstasy. She lost control of her bladder, urine streaming from under her skirt to the concrete floor. Her scream became strained and her voice failed, and after a few more seconds of the overwhelming sensation wracking her body she went slack in her bonds, the basement silent save for the sound of urine splashing against the ground.

The man gently lowered his daughter to the ground with the winch controls. He unshackled her wrists then grabbed a first aid kit. He disinfected the wounds on her back and then dressed them, bandage wrappings encircling her torso. His hands roamed the slight swell of her chest much more than was necessary and the nipple tweaking hadn't been necessary at all, but he got the job done and he did it adeptly. He applied some ointment to her chafed wrists, adjusting her cuffs to cover the damage. He wiped off the sweat, blood, and piss then gently carried her unconscious form to the living room. He laid her on her stomach, her head resting on his lap. Between her ass and her back she'd be sleeping on her front for weeks. The man cracked open a book, settling in, idly stroking his daughter head while he read, waiting for his birthday present to awaken.

***

"Daddy?" a weak voice asked blearily, about twenty minutes later.

The man looked down to see unfocused eyes looking up at him. He smiled back.

She shook her head side to side and suddenly stiffened.

"Ahh! I mean Master!" she said bolting upright.

"Ahh!" she cried as she put weight on her wounded posterior.

She bounded to her feet, for a moment it seemed she was about to fall back over, but she somehow managed to find her footing.

"Relax, don't worry about it baby girl." the man said, smiling and patting her head from where he sat.

***

Lunch preparations were resumed and eaten. The rest of the afternoon and then dinner passing without major incident, the man continuing to leisurely enjoy his day and his daughter. The red sky outside the window was steadily dimming, and the man sat sprawled on couch. His daughter lay lengthwise across the couch, her head in his lap. She had her mouth around his rapidly deflating dick, cleaning him off after having just blown him as he watched some evening television. When she finished she let the dick drop from her mouth and laid her head on her father's thigh. The pair stayed like this, the man gently stroking his daughter's head, until the episode finished.

The man turned off the tv, just sitting their for several minutes, his daughter's warm breath tickling his thigh.

"Thank you." the man said. "I don't think I've enjoyed a birthday like this since I was your age, maybe not even then."

The girl twisted around to look up at him and smiled.

"You're welcome Da-, Master." she replied.

"I know it's a little early, but I think it's about time for me to head to bed, I haven't fucked like this since college, and your dad was a lot more fit back then." He said, poking his stomach with chuckle.

The girl looked up at him, expression a little forlorn. The man could guess what was bothering her. He smiled and patted her head.

"Tomorrow you'll be back to just being my daughter, but I'm sure we'll be fucking even more than before, and now that we've both had a taste I'm sure we'll find an excuse to get you in the basement every now and then too." the man chuckled.

She didn't respond, her face screwing up into a deeply contemplative expression, the girl apparently thinking very hard about something. A full body shiver went up her body and her face relaxed for a moment before hardening into an expression of determination. A tremble of her lip and eyebrows belied her nerves, but whatever she had been thinking about, it seemed she had reached a decision.

She pushed herself up from the couch, wincing as her back tightened. She walked over to the entrance to the hall and turned around to face her father. The man admired his beautiful daughter as she stood there, seemingly working up to say or do something, her hard nipples quite plain to see through the bandages wrapping her chest. The man said nothing, patiently waiting for his daughter to gather her nerves.

She took a deep breath and reached her hand out to her side, resting her palm on the side of an expensive vase sitting on a pedestal. A long moment passed, father and daughter staring at each other with bated breath, and then she pushed.

The vase fell to the ground and shattered. The third strike.

The man rose from the couch. He thought he was completely tapped out, that he'd need one, maybe even two, full nights rest before he would even think about seeking relief from a maid, but as he followed his daughter out of the room he felt his blood begin to rush and he began to stiffen once more.

There was many different ways that the man liked to punish his errant maids. Generally, each subsequent strike was met with a harsher punishment than the last, but beyond simply being the harshest of all the third strike also had a defining theme. The third strike, the point at which a maid has thoroughly demonstrated that she no longer had any redeeming value as an employee of this household. She has proven herself so incompetent that her only remaining value was that of the meat on her bones.

***

The pair arrived at the kitchen and the girl began to disrobe. She winced as the bandages she was unwinding stuck to her wounds. She then slowly removed her clothes, not so suggestively as to be a strip tease, but definitely with the appreciation of her audience in mind. She folded her scant uniform neatly, placing it on a counter, and tossed her bandages into a waste bin. She then busied herself about the kitchen, preparing the necessary implements. The man watched as her naked body rushed to and fro, taking a brief moment to disrobe himself, throbbing erection pointing sky high.

She briefly washed herself in the large sink basin, suppressing a strangled cry as she gingerly rinsed her back. She dried off, than walked to the center of the kitchen where she hopped up onto the island, squeaking as her battered ass landed on the chilly steel. She stared at her father, shivering as she waited.

He approached. He draped one arm across her shoulders, steadying her trembling body as he lent her back. With the other he grabbed the knife his daughter had prepared and lined it up just below her sternum.

The girl stared transfixed at the knife, nearly hyperventilating, her nipples dancing mesmerisingly through the air as her chest heaved.

"We don't have to go any further than this. You've already made this day more special than I could have ever imagined." the man said, speaking the first words between the pair since she had pushed over the vase.

She looked up from the knife, gazing deep into her father's eyes, her breathing calming slightly as she stared for a long moment.

"Do it daddy." she said.

The man plunged the knife forward, leaning down and preemptively cutting off the girls scream with a kiss as her eye's went wide.

The man pulled back when he tasted blood. The girl heaved, bloody spittle spraying down her front. The man began to saw the knife downward, careful not to cut too deep, easily parting her abdominal muscles, bisecting her belly button and ending a few inches above her pubic bone. The girl mouth was opened as if she was screaming, but no noise came out, the shock stunning her. The man pulled the girl open, exposing her insides, and then began to remove the contents, plopping them into buckets, separating the useful bits from the waste. He moved with deft, practiced motions, but also with a edge of frenzy, his face looking like that of a madman and his erection throbbing visibly as he cut connections and removed organs.

The girl was starting to become visibly paler, save for her face which remained as flushed as ever. It seemed that she had become somewhat accustomed to the level of pain and her hand snaked its way toward her clit. She withdrew most of it with a sudden yelp, her father had swiped at it with the knife, sending half of a pinky finger flying away. She pouted at her father to which he replied with a crazed grin and grabbed his dick.

It seemed that everything that could be removed without triggering a premature death had been, and the man lined up his cock with his daughters pussy. There was a short pause of bated breath as the pair stared into each others eyes, but they didn't have time to waste and the man plunged forward.

The girl moaned and gasped in pain and pleasure as her father fucked her. The experience was rather different without the girl's organs providing internal pressure and holding everything in place, and the man seemed to find the sensation less than satisfying. He grabbed the girls hand, and thrust into the girls abdomen, wrapping it around the outside of her vaginal tube. She quickly understood his intent, and the man withdrew his hand, enjoying the novelty of his daughter's combined fuck/hand-job.

The man was close and could sense his daughter was too. He stuck a cutting board under the shoulder of the girl's unoccupied arm and grabbed a large cleaver, waiting for the right moment. He brought down the cleaver just as his daughter's orgasmic cry was starting to build, her arm falling limply to the counter. Her orgasmic cry became an orgasmic scream, her eye's shot wide and her entire body seized, including what vaginal muscles still could, as well as her fist. The man felt he might nearly be crushed as his daughter's hand squeezed their combined genitals, and he began to cum as well, cum shooting through the girl's cervix and landing on her excavated insides, her womb having already been removed.

The man was still rock hard, he had never been this aroused in his entire life, even when he was a young boy full to the brim of hormones and with his free pick of the ladies. He resumed thrusting his hips, gritting his teeth and powering through his post orgasm oversensitivy. His daughter was losing blood fast and he had no time to spare.

He quickly moved the cutting board to her other shoulder and hewed her remaining arm from her body. She came again, raw, impassioned scream echoing through the kitchen. The man roughly grabbed her torso and rotated her onto her side, one leg dangling between his and one resting on his shoulder as he fucked her. He grabbed a saw a began feverishly sawing at her leg. He quickly realized it would be easy to injure himself when he cut through and looked about for a solution. He grabbed a baking sheet and jammed it between his daughter's leg and his lower body, one arm holding her leg tightly to him, keeping both it and the baking sheet in place, and with the other he began sawing with renewed vigor. His daughter howled in euphoric bliss as he sawed, only stopping to finally breath in when the limb finally fell to the ground, saw clanging against the baking sheet. The man quickly flipped her over, repeating the process on her last remaining limb, the man spraying his seed inside her one last time as it too fell from her body.

The two parted, breathing heavily and staring lovingly at each other. The girl's face was ashen, her excitement no longer able to overcome her rapid blood loss.

The man grabbed a long thin knife and once more positioned the girl as they had started, with her leaning on his shoulder while he aimed a knife at her.

"Thank you, this has been the most amazing birthday, I will never forget it as long as I live." the man said.

"You're welcome, and thank you Daddy." the girl replied with a weak smile.

The man leaned down, joining their lips in a kiss as he slid the knife between her ribs and into her heart. Through their joined lips her felt her shudder for a moment, and then still. He sunk to the floor, sitting their for several minutes, holding his daughter's limbless torso tightly to his own.

Eventually he rose. He had never blown his load so many times in one day and he was starting to feel quite chafed, but he was still at least half hard and knew he would regret it if he didn't indulge one final time in his daughter's body. He spent several minutes enjoying all three of her holes before shooting his final offering of gratitude through her cervix and onto her abdominal walls.

The man began to butcher his daughter's carcass. Usually once the game was dead and he had had his fun he would leave the rest of the butchering to one of his maids, but he felt he owed it to his daughter and so he dusted off his rusted skills and got to work. In short order his daughter's body was reduced to cuts of meat and packaged for storage. He was exhausted and it was late but the man delayed rest once more to cook and enjoy a couple strips of bacon and a small portion of her womb.

He polished off the simple snack, feeling it was more delicious than the most gourmet meal he had ever eaten.

As he left the room he passed a maid standing near the entrance holding a mop and bucket in hand. The maids had stayed in the periphery most of the day, leaving the man's daughter to handle the more personal maidly duties, but that policy seemed to have expired when his daughter had.

The man took a brief shower, washing the blood off. As the cool water rained down on his head and shoulders the man thought about the day's events. The man had found his daughter supremely sexy for quite some time, and he had always enjoyed her company, both sexually and platonically. He had also long enjoyed doing terribly destructive things to women, especially when they were as eager and aroused by the experience as he was. It had taken him quite by surprise though just how much more he had been turned on by combining the two, torturing and killing a girl he loved more deeply than any other, a girl he had raised himself since she was just a babe. He found it extremely regrettable that he had only ever had the one child, her mother dying a little more than a year after she was born. Over the years he had gotten a few of his maids pregnant. He had enjoyed the fresh milk and the novelty of their round bellies while it lasted, but somehow it seemed each and every one of them had managed to accrue a third strike before ever having a chance to give birth. That, the man thought to himself as he toweled himself dry, was a policy he would have to re-think.

More to come :-)

Pt 1

“Um, Sir?” The nervous young secretary opened the door to Bova Polkan’s office. Russia’s most successful avant garde artist, the popular and charismatic billionaire has come to Great Britain to create what promised to be his greatest work of art - “Polkan’s Paradise of Pleasures”, a sculpture garden dedicated to the beauty of youth and all the pleasures of life. What made his particular project unique among other such installations was the process by which his sculptures were created.

“What is it?” Polkan looked up from the brochure on his desk – a proof copy sent by the printers for the promotional material he planned to send out to potential investors and contributors. “I’m rather busy.”

“Mrs Lomax is here and she wants to speak to you.” Polkan sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Can you tell her I’m in a meeting or something?” He asked, fluttering his eyelashes comically at the young secretary, putting her a little more at her ease. “I really don’t feel like dealing with her today!”

“I don’t know.” The secretary made an anxious face. “She seems pretty pissed!”

“Well tell her…” but the secretary never got to hear what her employer wanted her to tell the angry woman as, at that moment, Karen Lomax stormed past her, shoving her out of the way so firmly that she would have ended up on the floor if the large potted plant had not been there to break her fall.

“What the fuck is that monstrosity?!” Karen slammed her hands, palms down, so hard on Polkan’s desk that his pens and coffee mugs rattled.

“Hello, Mrs Lomax.” Polkan leaned back in his chair and smiled politely. “How delightful to see you again. What can I do for you?”

“You can explain why you turned my beautiful babies into that… that THING out there!”

“You don’t like the new exhibit?” Polkan asked innocently. “It’s proving very popular. From what I can see online it’s quickly becoming one of the most photographed installations in the garden and everyone seems to respond very positively towards it.” He tried his best not to smirk at the increasing fury on the woman’s red face. “People seem to think it really captures the positive side of life with siblings!”

“I gave you my babies in good faith!” the woman screamed in his face, treating him to a shower of spittle as she did so. “And you turn them into THAT!”

“You sold me your children for a good price.” Polkan reminded her. “And I did tell you in advance the name of the piece.”

“You told me it would be called ‘The Joy of Siblings’!”

“As indeed it is. Are you telling me they don’t appear joyful?”

“How could you force my innocent babies to participate in that… that FILTH?!”

“Mrs Lomax.” Polkan leant forward, his voice taking on a slightly more serious tone. “You have witness the process by which my statues are created. You know that your children needed to hold that pose for up to four minutes. Do you really think they would have been able to do so if they were not happy with it? If they were not enjoying themselves?”

“You turned my babies into pornography!”

“Your children and I collaborated to create art.” He reminded her, firmly. “Art which is proving very popular with the public. You should be very proud of them.” Neither spoke for a few moments. Eventually, Karen Lomax realised that her glare which had reduced so many sales assistants and their managers to quivering jelly was not going to have any effect on this Russian artist.

“Fine!” She stood up straight, trying to salvage a little of her dignity in the face of this defeat. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer!”

“I shall look forward to it.” Polkan smiled sweetly. “I’m sure someone with his or her professional interests will admire how iron-clad your our contract it. Good day, Mrs Lomax.” Karen seemed for a moment as if she was attempting to shoot lasers from her eyes to obliterate Polkan but, after a few tense seconds, she huffed, turned on her heel and marched out of the office, slamming the door behind her so hard the glass rattled.

“Mel, can you come in here a moment, please?” Polkan spoke into the intercom. The young secretary stuck her head round the door nervously again. “I could use a coffee.” Polkan took out his wallet and handed her a fairly large note. “I think I need one after dealing with her. Get one for yourself too, and a snack if you want one, oh and Mel?” She took the note and smiled at him gratefully, he was certainly not a bad person to be working for, “No hurry. Take your time.”

THREE WEEKS EARLIER

“Thank you for coming by, Mrs Lomax.” Bova Polkan smiled, welcoming the tall, smartly-dressed woman into his office. “As you can see, my garden is still very much a work in progress but the public response so far has been very positive.”

“Oh yes!” Mrs Lomax gushed, “I saw two or three of your sculptures on the way in and I must say that they were stunning. After I read about your project I just knew that my babies would be perfect for you.” Polkan sat down behind his desk and invited her to take a seat. “I enrolled them all in drama and dance classes from the age of four so they’re all in great physical shape and natural performers!”

“I’m sure they are.” Polkan smiled. “Obviously we have lots of applicants for this very unique form of immortality but I’m always excited to hear from new contenders and I think I have just the project in mind for your children. Did you bring the photographs I asked for?”

“I certainly did!” Karen Lomax proudly pulled a large manilla envelope from her purse and handed it to him. Inside were five A4 glossy prints, three of which were close-ups of her children’s faces and the remaining two showed the three siblings lined up naked against an outside wall, front and back views. On the back of the head-shots were the names, ages and some general stats about the children.

Polkan browsed the head-shots then paid particular interest to the full-body nudes as these would give him the best idea of what he might be working with. The children were stood in relaxed poses and all flashing well-practised smiles at the camera.

In the middle was a girl of twelve with long dark hair, trim figure and just the first hint of breasts protruding proudly from her chest. She stood with one hand by her side and the other on her hip which had a distinctly feminine curve. A small patch of dark pubic hair adorned her mound but otherwise her genitalia still looked like that of a little girl.

To her right stood a boy of fourteen. His hair was dark like his sisters but curly, with a certain cultivated unruliness which made him look as if he belonged in a boy-band. He was reasonably well-endowed for his age and sported far more hair than his sister but it had not yet spread to the rest of his body. his figure was toned like a dancer. He was stood with his hands behind his back, looking a little shy but generally relaxed.

On the left was the smallest sibling – a girl of eight. Her hair was lighter than the older two, closer to that of her mother’s dirty blonde. She was grinning broadly at the camera, hands by her side and flat chest thrust forwards. No signs of puberty were yet evident on her body which, like her siblings’ , was toned and athletic. Polkan took a brief glance at the rear view picture but it was much as he expected.

“You have a very beautiful family!” Polkan smiled warmly. “I’m sure I can create a truly stunning work with them! Are you familiar with my process?”

“I am.” Karen nodded. “I read your article.”

“Ah, splendid!” Polkan slipped the photographs into the top left-hand drawer of his desk. “And your children also understand how my sculptures are created?”

“They do!” Karen assured him. “They think it sounds like fun!”

“Well that’s marvellous!” Polkan slid his chair back and stood up. “I actually have three new works in production this morning, all at different stages. Perhaps you would like to come and see so you can witness the whole process for yourself?”

Mrs Lomax happily agreed and Polkan led her out of the office and through the park towards the studio where the works were created. Along the way, he pointed out a few of his favourite works.

“This one is called the Joy of Surprises.” He pointed to a bronze sculpture of a naked little girl, around four or five years old, kneeling in front of a newly-opened gift box and squealing in delight at what was inside.

“But the box is empty?” Karen observed, peering in with curiosity. “What was the surprise supposed to be?”

“That’s rather the point.” explained Polkan. “The idea is that the viewer looks at the delight on her face and imagines whatever gift would provoke such feelings in them. Perhaps it is a puppy? Or a special toy? Or maybe just a photo of a loved-one they’ve not seen in a very long time. It’s all down to interpretation.” They walked a little further, past other statues, until they saw one depicting a young couple, maybe fifteen years old, sharing a passionate kiss. The girl’s hand had a firm grip on the boy’s erect penis. “This one is called the Joy of Love.” Polkan informed his guest. “It works on two levels because the pair are clearly lovers yet my subjects were actually twin siblings so it depicts at least two kinds of love at once. Ah!” He smiled as they reached the studio that, from the outside, looked like a rustic barn. “Here we are, where the magic happens!”

A sign on the door indicated that this building was not open to the public and the door was firmly locked. This was no issue for Polkan, of course. He tapped the lock code into the combination pad beside the door and a metallic click indicated that the door was unlocked. He pushed it open and ushered his guest inside.

Although she had not been entirely sure what to expect from a studio where such unconventional sculptures were created, Karen Lomax was certain it had not been this! The inside of the rustic barn more closely resembled a car factory with large vats and industrial machinery. The workers all wore high-vis vests and protective eyewear.

“Oh hey, Mr Polkan!” A man carrying a clipboard who Karen took to be the foreman waved as they came in. “I was just about to call you and ask you to come down. The subjects are ready to pose The Joy of Reading.”

“Ah splendid!” Polkan clasped his hands together in genuine delight. “How’s the Joy of Friendship coming along?”

“Fired and being cleaned, sir.” The foreman reported. “Another ten minutes or so and we should be ready to cast. The Joy of Togetherness is being polished at the moment if you wanted to see it?”

“Oh yes, that would be great!” Polkan smiled. “Mrs Lomax here is considering selling me her three lovely children so I’ve invited her to see the whole process. Let the subjects know I’m here, would you please?”

“Sure thing, Sir.” The Foreman nodded and spoke into his radio.

“Well Mrs Lomax, it looks as if you’re about to get a sneak preview of one of my newest works!” He led her past a rack of wooden discs, tapered at the edges, varying in size from two to five feet across, to the corner where two workers, a man and a woman, were carefully polishing a bronze sculpture depicting two girls around ten years old, naked apart from the flowers in their hair, holding hands with their heads turned to face each other and posed as if they were skipping. The scene brought to mind happy childhood frolics idyllic meadows. Although they were both cast in identical bronze, Mrs Lomax was fairly sure from the girls’ hair and features that one had been black and the other Caucasian.

“It’s very beautiful!” She gushed. “So sweet! What is the one you’re going to be starting today?”

“Bova!” A door opened and two young girls, aged around ten and six, rushed out from a side-room and practically drowned Polkan with hugs and cuddles.

“Hey girls!” He knelt down to kiss each of the affectionately on the cheek. “Are we all ready to make some beautiful art?” Both girls were naked, of course, like all the sculpture subjects. The ten year old had the body and poise of a ballet dancer, with long, straight black hair which was tied back in a pony-tail reaching almost to her bottom and topped with a big, floppy blue bow. Her chest was flat apart from two marble-sized buds behind her pink nipples and she had no body hair. The smaller girl was appealingly chubby and her lighter hair was tied in bunches either side of her head. In response to the question, they both nodded enthusiastically and made the kind of excited squeals only prepubescent girls can make!

“Let’s go get the set ready, shall we?” Polkan suggested and, with an arm around each girl’s shoulders, guided them to a metal platform surrounded on three sides with thick glass sheets mounted in corner posts. Mrs Lomax followed, curious to see how the start of the process worked.

The workers brought out one of the larger wooden discs and placed in on the metal floor to form the base of the finished sculpture. They then set a very picturesque tree stump slightly to the right. Karen expected to see the girls mount the platform then and there and assume their poses but first a worker came over with what looked like a plastic barrel in one hand and the rounded head of a thin hose in the other.

“Okay, who’s first?” The man asked with an affable smile.

“I will!” The older girl put up her hand before stepping forwards.

“Okay, tilt your head back for me as far as it will go,” the man instructed, “and open your mouth.” The girl did as she was told and the man started to feed the hose down her throat. She gagged and spluttered a little but Polkan stood behind her, giving her shoulders a comforting massage, and she managed to tolerate it being pushed a little further. Once it was in, the worker pushed a button on the barrel.

“What’s going on?” Mrs Lomax asked.

“It’s actually a technique used by deep-sea divers.” Polkan explained, “Her lungs are being filled with oxygenated gel so she can go up to fifteen minutes without breathing. Stops the subjects’ faces distorting before the plaster dries as the body tends to go into auto-pilot if starved of oxygen. It was an issue we found with some of our early test-runs. Mrs Lomax nodded. The explanation made perfect sense. Once the first girl’s lungs were filled, her younger co-star received the same treatment. The smaller girl found it a little harder to take the hose down her oesophagus but she managed and soon she too was prepared.

“Right!” Polkan grinned, “Time to get started!”

The previous thread had gotten too long, I think (and hope) that was why it got so few comments, so I am starting a new one, we shall see.

Previous stories thread
https://www.gurochan.cx/lit/res/15449.html

Babs was beat. She'd been out all night busting the dastardly plans of the city's criminal underbelly. She needed to get out of her tight form-fitting bodysuit and into a hot shower.

She ripped off her cowl and cape with one motion and tossed it in the hamper - her belt following suit.

She then peeled off her gloves off of her sweaty hands and wrists and got a small whiff of the odor from her hard work fighting crime.

Then, using her now naked hands, reached around behind and unzipped the back of her bodysuit. She then used both hands, crossed at the wrists, and grabbed the top of her bodysuit, and started peeling it off her glistening body - the ripe fruit underneath the banana's skin.

She slid her arms out and continued peeling - past her bountiful breasts, her slim waist, and her soft belly and her tight ass.

"Why did I decide to go commando tonight…?" she asked herself as she gently massaged her sore tits. Now half-naked she sighed and took a seat on her bed.

She reached down and peeled off her boots - and was greeted with the even greater stench of damp foot odor. She wiggled her barefoot toes on the floor, then continued taking off the rest of her bodysuit.

She peeled the suit down her milky thighs, past her sculpted knees, and down around her ankles and feet. She nimbly pulled her shapely legs out of the crumpled up suit and planted her feet on the floor next to it.

She leaned her slender body over and grabbed her bodysuit and boots - and too tossed them in the hamper, out of sight.

Now fully nude from head to toe, the redheaded Barbara Gordon gracefully glided over to the bathroom.

She turned the faucet to nice and hot and stepped inside. The steaming water hit her skin and washed away the sweat that glistened her entire body.

"Oh god that feels good…" said Babs to herself as she spun around under the warm shower - letting it hit her back from her shoulder blades down, and then then on her tits. The water pooled up in her cleavage before running down the rest of her torso - some water deciding to ignore gravity and cling to her under-boobs before succumbing.

She put her head underneath and ran her hands through her red hair as the water soaked every strand.

She washed up - tempted a few times when scrubbing around her nether regions to explore deeper… but ultimately deciding she wanted to get to sleep as soon as possible.

She finished up her shower, dried herself up and immediately hopped into bed - still fully naked. She fell asleep almost instantaneously.

***

Babs stood in a black void, staring into a mirror that was adorned with wrought-iron snakes at the top.

She was in her Batgirl outfit - but only momentarily as the eyes of the serpents atop the mirror glowed. The bodysuit glowed bright hot white and disintegrated - and Babs could feel the heat against her skin of the suit burning off her body.

Babs was now naked in front of the mirror - hypnotized by the serpent's gaze. She lowered her jaw slightly and stared.

Suddenly she became paralyzed in place - standing upright with her hands at her sides.

She couldn't move a muscle. And she started feeling an intense numbness in her feet.

She could still see - and she saw that her feet were now turning to stone…

She was frightened - but also intrigued… And as the effect spread up her legs, past her knees and up her thighs, the numbness turned into a much more pleasurable feeling…

She saw her pussy turn to stone. And as it did, an explosion of orgasmic bliss spread throughout her body - both through her flesh and through what was now turning to stone…

Her arms started turning to stone at her hands, parallel with the effect on her hips. Belly and wrists turned to stone. Elbows and tits. Shoulders and collarbones. And finally her neck and beautiful face - still hypnotized with her lips slightly ajar as they hardened into gray stone.

Her nose, her eyes, and her red hair at the top of her head - all turned to stone.

Babs was now fully a stone statue.

And she started tipping backwards.

She fell fast, quickly hurtling towards the dark unseen floor.

And right before she made impact… she woke up.

***

Babs jolted awake from her intense dream with a gasp, her body shuddering as if she just "fell" into her bed.

She was very confused - part of her expected to have shattered into hundreds of stone pieces, instead of being all in one piece in her soft bed. Another part of her was very turned on, as evidence by the sticky juices she felt in her loins - partly staining her sheets as she was still completely naked.

Reaching down with her hand and running her fingers over her crotch (and eliciting a soft moan), she grabbed a sample of her juices and then raised her hand up close to her face. She eyed the glistening fluid, rubbing it between her fingers, spreading them apart and seeing a line form between them.

"Mmmm…" moaned Babs as she bit her lip at the sight and smell of the results of her wet dream.

Gently sticking her tongue through the corner of her lips in thought, she decided to finish the job her body was urging her to in her subconscious. But her mere fingers wouldn't do…

She drew a sharp intake of breath with a smile as an idea popped into her head.

She ran over to the hamper, reached in, and grabbed her utility belt. And from one of the pockets she pulled out a device.

Her "Bat Beacon" device, used to attract a flock of bats by vibrating at an ultrasonic frequency, given to her by Batman recently.

The device was cylindrical, about 6 inches long, and about 1-2 inches in diameter.

"Been meaning to try you out…" she seductively said to the beacon while staring at it with hungry eyes.

She walked back over to her bed, sat down - but just before she climbed in to begin her morning tension relief exercise, she realized something.

"Ooh! Better tweak the frequency a bit. Don't want a flock of bats interrupting the fun," she said as she made the adjustments on the controls of the device.

"That's better," she said, making the change in the operating frequency of the device so it wouldn't attract bats - or anything she could think of for that matter.

"Now where were we…" she said to the device.

She lowered it down to her crotch. "Oh yes.."

She slipped it through her still-wet lips. The walls of her pussy surrounding it as it slid deeper and deeper.

Her breaths intensified and became more shallow.

She flicked it on.

"Ohhh… f-fu-uck…" slipped out of her mouth as the feeling of the device vibrating against her wet pussy rocked Babs's world.

She let out a long moan that shuddered along with the vibration her whole body was feeling in response to the device.

Her eyes rolled back in her head.

Her toes curled and uncurled atop her sheets. Her legs and knees bucked this way and that as her hands worked the device between her thighs deeper and deeper.

Her body twitched uncontrollably and erratically as the device worked its unintended magic of "interfacing" with her body.

She quickly got close to climax. "OoOh god… OOooh god…" she whispered to herself between shallow breaths and heavy moans.

The fire of pleasure burned hotter and hotter in her clit and washed over her body.

And before she knew it, she was knocking her knees together as the feeling of orgasm approached. She braced for the climax of pleasure.

SLAM

The sound of the front door slammed outside Babs's room, tearing her out of her state of complete orgasmic bliss as she gasped in reaction.

"Fuck. I was so close…" she whispered to herself in disappointment as she flicked off the device.

A bit surprised by the sound of the door, she figured it was just her house-mate Alysia coming home from her bartending job, maybe in a sour mood.

With a defeated sigh, she slid the device out of her pussy - which felt nice but nowhere near comparable to orgasm that was rudely interrupted.

She got up from her bed and put the device - still damp with her juices - back into her utility belt in the hamper. She'd clean it after the coast was clear.

Figuring it was time to get cleaned up, she walked to her bedroom door to head to the bathroom.

Still fully nude, she reached for the door handle. "Alysia?" she called out through the door. While Alysia didn't know of Babs' secret identity, they were otherwise almost like sisters, and Babs wasn't afraid to walk around in her birthday suit in front of her.

She turned the handle.

She opened the door.

And was greeted with the sight of a giant, green, serpent-like creature with a humanoid top.

A gorgon.

***

Babs could not believe her eyes.

Ahead of her was the serpent-like body of a gorgon that was at least 3 meters long. At its mid-section, the scaly-like skin softened to bare human-like skin - only green but in a brighter tone than the snake-like lower half.

Babs's eyes moved up the creature's body.

The top-half was quite beautiful, insomuch that it resembled a human female body - much like Babs's. It had two large breasts, including nipples that were a darker shade than its skin. It had two lean arms with large hands and pointy finger-tips - but more-or-less human-like. It even had rather attractive collarbones and neck muscles - that almost turned Babs on at her quick glance.

And then the quick glance after that landed Babs's eyes on the creature's head and face.

It- she - had an angelic face. A supple mouth with wide, black lips. A petite, perhaps even charming nose.

And deep, dark eyes. That stared right back into Babs's own eyes.

Babs opened her mouth in shock.

Unable to pull her gaze away from the beautiful creature's eyes, Babs could still make out in her peripheral vision the moving "hair" surrounding her head - a least a dozen snakes that slithered around seemingly at random.

Until they all suddenly faced towards Babs…

Babs felt a dread deep down in her soul. Even though she never had seen a creature like this before, she knew she should avert her gaze.

Babs raised a hand towards her head - to help shield her eyes from the many that the creature possessed when counting both eyes on her face and the eyes on all of her snakes.

But, unfortunately for Babs, and despite her instinctual warning, she was too late.

The creature's many eyes glowed - the color of the glow unknown as Babs immediately lost her sight upon their appearance.

This plunged Babs into the depths of terror. She drew a squeaky, deep breath to scream.

But before she could, Babs's whole body froze in place - totally paralyzed. One hand still on the door handle, the other raised in a futile gaze-blocking gesture. Legs frozen mid-tremble. A look of horror on her pretty face - eyebrows arched high, mouth open - ready yet unable to unleash the ear-piercing scream she had cued up.

Babs's eyes were not only frozen, but also blank and erased of all their features - the whites, the blue of her irides, the black of her pupils - all replaced by dull gray stone.

The gorgon continued to stare deeply into Babs's eyes - channeling a mysterious energy into Babs's body and soul right through them.

Behind her blind, frozen, stone eyes, Babs was still fully conscious and aware - even if she couldn't move a single muscle.

She could feel the new heavier weight of her stone eyeballs in their sockets - confused and aghast by the feeling as she was unaware of their transformation and the new form of inorganic material they became.

"What the fuck is happening to me?!?" squealed Babs inside her own head. With the loss of movement and sight almost simultaneously, she was rightfully scared beyond her worst nightmares (including the wet dream she woke up from only moments earlier).

Across her entire body, Babs started to feel numb. Only in small points at first, but definitely spread all over - the tip of her big toe, somewhere on her belly, and on one of her nipples to name a few.

Then the numbing feeling grew from small points to larger areas - feeling from her big toe spreading to her foot; from the point on her belly spreading to her hips and across her belly button; from her nipple spreading across her entire breast.

What she was still unaware of was that all those areas were morphing into stone. The cellular makeup of those organic areas being mutated into inorganic minerals. A transformation that was irreversible.

Babs wished she could breathe but with her lungs paralyzed that was proven impossible. And now losing feeling in spots all over her body - along with her other issues - Babs was almost driven insane with terror.

Until some relief was found when the numbing feeling spread across Babs's clitoris - frozen mid-throb from her interrupted masturbation session earlier. The numbing across her remaining body then became accompanied by the subtle but warm feeling of pleasure…

Still in abject terror, a part of Babs was reminded of her wet dream - and the feeling of pleasure that accompanied her turning to stone. Was this her dream becoming a terrifying, if not also erotic reality?

From the gorgon's perspective, the body of Babs was almost half stone. But not any one "uniform" half - quite the opposite actually. The stone pattern spread across her body in splotches that merged into each other - like the patterns found on a cow or a Dalmatian.

The growing splotches of stone spread up and down across her torso, arms and legs - directly over a breast and nipple, across her belly button, skimming across her pussy and down between her legs; down from her thumb, across part of her wrist, bypassing her elbow and continuing up her upper arm to her shoulder.

The inverse of the splotches was Babs' yet untouched soft skin, flesh and bone. However this area was shrinking fast.

Below the splotches on her skin, none of her vital organs were spared of the permanent mutation to uniform, lifeless stone. Airways, veins and arteries, gastrointestinal tract - all being permanently sealed in a growing number of places across her body.

The stone splotches spread across Barbara's collarbones - the sharp outlined points from her frozen intake of breath and the indentation behind them all now stone.

Babs could feel her throat starting to close up - not that it mattered since she couldn't breathe anyway.

With the terror of the nightmare before her, the warm feeling of pleasure still washed over her - at least to the very few parts of her that remained. The rest was replaced by cold, lifeless stone that only shared the shape of Babs's body parts.

The gorgon continued staring mercilessly at the prey before her. A small smirk grew on her lips.

The splotches of stone grew into the shapes of continents. The continents grew into a uniform super-continent, completely drying up the oceans that was her skin, flesh and bone across her entire body from the neck down.

All that remained now was Barbara's pretty little head - except for her already stone eyes.

"Oh god… This is the end… Will I ever recover from this?" The thoughts raced through her brain.

Her mouth, still frozen mid-scream, became stone - spreading from below her jaw to the top of her lips and roof of her mouth. White teeth, pinkish lips, reddish tongue - all now dull gray stone; and there went her sense of taste.

Adorable thin and narrow nose - once flexible and capable of taking a punch or two from a crooked henchman - now hard and brittle; and there went her sense of smell.

Blushed cheeks - now gray stone. Cute ears - the same; and there went her sense of hearing.

Long, straight, and red hair - one of her defining features - now gray stone. Her red eyebrows followed suit.

Only Barbara Gordon's brain remained intact. The only "sense" she had left was that of feeling - and it was hard to even tell if that was just the thoughts in her mind - being that she only was a mind at that point.

The feeling of both terror and pleasure started to fade. As did her rational thoughts.

The folds in her brain were mutating and hardening bit by bit - and as every fold was replaced by stone, Babs lost a little piece of her self.

"I hope Batman can save me-…" Babs thought to herself - before she slipped into total delirium.

A few more memories and fantasies drifted past the mind's eye of Babs. Until the mind's eye also turned to stone.

And then Barbara Gordon was no more.

Her mind entered oblivion.

Her human body was completely erased from existence. Instead, a stone statue that shared the exact same shape and pose as Babs did in her final moments stood in her stead.

The gorgon finally relaxed the snakes atop her head, and broke her gaze by blinking a few times. She eyed her prize up and down.

A stone statue in the shape of a beautiful human female. She seemed quite athletic by the tone of her body - not that it did her any good at this point. Bountiful breasts. Once-supple-now-hardened arms frozen while reaching out in their own ways. And a beautiful face of pure shock and terror.

The gorgon thought about what she was going to do next.

The gorgon's smirk turned into a wide smile.

***

The gorgon gazed at the stone statue that was once her prey.

A human being. So puny and weak.

This one appeared to have been a female.

The gorgon had no idea that the statue was once the famed superheroine "Batgirl", but also Barbara "Babs" Gordon, the well-known daughter of the city's police commissioner.

She just knew that she was an unlucky human girl who happened to be at the source of a mating call.

The gorgon normally wouldn't bring harm to a random human being - they had little qualms with humans as they normally dwell far under the earth's surface.

But the gorgon was ready to mate. Her sexual energy was pent up over the long journey to the surface - which was a strange place to mate in danger of being seen by the humans, but perhaps her potential mate was kinky.

And after she inspected the house, and saw no other gorgon in sight when peering into Babs's bedroom, she had to release.

And she chose to release on the naked human female cowering before her.

This was only her third time petrifying a human being. All 3 happened to be young females.

The first one, a young blonde woman, was chosen as part of a ritual initiation ceremony, where gorgons coming into a certain age find a suitable human being to sacrifice to their gods.

The second, a petite brunette, was an unfortunate witness to the first girl's petrification and needed to be disposed of.

That was at least 60 years ago - which was only a blink-of-an-eye in the gorgon's lifespan.

She looked the statue before her now up and down. For a human she was quite beautiful. She partially reminded her of another gorgon she used to court - at least in the parts that humans and gorgons shared.

She'd be sure to make this one just as special as the first.

Slithering her snake-like body, she lowered herself and leaned in to be face-to-face with the statue.

She raised a hand up to the statue's cheek and grazed her green fingertips against it. She brushed a finger against a blank eye. And she rubbed the statue's chin, under its terrified expression.

For a human, she was very beautiful. She almost started to regret having petrifying her and almost wished for the power to restore her to her former form - but that would be impossible as the transformation to stone was irreversible. That's the way it has always been with her kind.

The only thing left was to continue the ritual.

She swiftly leaned in and planted a kiss on the lips of the statue's open mouth. She let her tongue roam around inside the opening - exploring the oral cavity of the statue thoroughly - licking the statue's tongue, teeth, and the roof of the statue's mouth.

She could taste some of the saliva that resided inside - unaffected by the transformation as most bodily fluids were.

She pulled away and left her own bit of fluid glistening the statue's mouth and lips.

She leaned in again and sucked on the statue's petite nose.

She lapped up each cheek, and licked over each blank eye.

She enjoyed the taste of the former creature's sweat that resided. Clearly the creature was performing some strenuous physical activity that the gorgon interrupted.

The view in the doorway was constricting, so the gorgon decided to get a better look. Using care, she grabbed the statue with her hands and lifted it with ease, then slithered her way into the bedroom before her. Her tail knocked the door shut - no sense in the chance of another unlucky human intruding.

She planted the statue down delicately on its petite feet - taking care to balance her properly. These humans and their stupid legs - how they could even stand upright without immediately falling was beyond the gorgon's comprehension.

She looked down at the statue's breasts - similar in size and shape to her own.

She leaned in and gave one of them a kiss, suckling on the statue's literally rock-hard teat. Simultaneously she cupped a hand around the other breast and fondled it - pinching the nipple hard between her fingers. She tasted the sweat that built up on her tits, and enjoyed it thoroughly.

She pulled back and admired the front of the statue's body. She was clearly fit for a human female. Not that that mattered at all in the end - she had no chance against a gorgon one-on-one, especially given the vulnerable, naked position she was in upon opening the door.

She slithered around back and gave the statue's backside a look up and down.

The shoulder blades popped out of the statue's upper back, with the way the arms had been frozen in her futile blocking gesture - almost eliciting a laugh at the memory of how pointless the attempt was.

The back of her legs again did nothing for the gorgon. However, the statue's ass was a different story…

There was just something so perfect about the shape and size of this former human's body-part that the gorgon did not share. The way it clenched in fear. The way the bottom of the statue's back dipped in the middle, then succumbing to a wide canyon of cleavage. It was almost as if these human females had another set of breasts on their bottoms.

She leaned in and used her tongue to explore the crack. The taste was a bit bitter but no doubt aroused the already horny gorgon even more. She suckled on each cheek with passion.

With her tongue still pressed against the statue's backside, she circled around back, running her tongue across the statue's hips and onto the statue's stone pussy. While the gorgon did not have one of her own, she did have similar reproductive organs down below, and was familiar with the ones on human females.

She licked the lips at the base of the statue's torso. There the taste of a different kind of juice still clung heavily around - and it tasted wonderful.

This started to drive the gorgon crazy. She needed more.

Quite suddenly, she grabbed the statue and almost threw her on the bed - landing on its back luckily undamaged. Then the gorgon mounted it.

She leaned down and rubbed her tits against the statue's, brushing hard against them.

She entwined herself around the statue's body, and grinding both her upper and lower body against it. A very small amount of stone powder began to rub off on the scaly parts of the gorgon's skin.

She licked the statue's arms, hands and fingers - enjoying the taste of her prey's sweat.

She started grinding against the statue's body with her sexual organ about a meter below the top of the gorgon's snake-like body, starting at the statue's pussy and grinding up along the belly, across the bellybutton, up the line between the abs, between the breasts, over the collarbones, and across the statue's chin, open mouth, and finally planting her sex organ surrounding the statue's petite, narrow nose. She started grinding against it, letting her own juices flow over the statue's nose and face - dark and slimy.

The gorgon was building to a climax that she was primed to release over the beautiful stone statue before her…

***


Grinding up and down harder and faster on the statue's petite nose, the gorgon finally reached climax.

The gorgon tensed her body hard - and ground her sex organ against the statue's nose with a very hard final push.

The statue's nose snapped off. No matter. And the gorgon spattered her slimy juices all over the statue's face and nose hole - nose splashing over the face and falling onto the bed.

After having a bit of fun, the gorgon was ready to continue the ritual on her beautiful stone prey.

She dismounted from the statue on the bed and grabbed it with her hands.

She brought it over to the center of the room. She had to take extra effort to balance the statue this time - she chipped some of its toes with her grinding.

She slithered back and looked the statue up and down once more. A very faint and narrow trail of slimy gorgon juice ran up the center of the statue's torso. Her saliva also glistened the statue all over. The face was almost completely covered in both fluids - terrified expression still visible below the slime, and minus a nose of course.

It was time.

The gorgon approached the statue that was once Barbara Gordon. Her name, her life, and her and alternate persona Batgirl, completely unknown and irrelevant to the gorgon.

Just another human female.

The gorgon lowered to the statue's feet and started wrapping around the legs in a tight coil.

She continued up, and the snake-like body continued coiling - around the statue's tight ass, its sensual hips, its slim waist, and over her breasts.

The scales ground down hard against the statue's nipples - and completely erased them, smoothing her breasts out like a stone Barbie doll.

The arms started to present an obstacle - one raised to "block" her gaze, the other still holding a door handle that wasn't there.

No matter.

She just wrapped around them with one loop, then squeezed around the statue's shoulders tight.

Both arms snapped off and fell to the wooden floor. They impacted with a crash - snapping again at the elbows and wrists. A few fingers clattered off as well, rolling along the floor.

"Babs? You home?" a muffled voice suddenly called from outside the bedroom door.

The gorgon - still coiled around the statue's body (minus its arms) - snapped her head towards the door in reaction to the voice.

"You awake?" the voice called again, this time right outside the door.

The gorgon didn't want to have another incident like her second victim - that she had to unceremoniously and quickly transform and dispose of unlike her first victim - but she would do what was necessary should this poor soul choose to foolishly open the door.

"Okay sleepyhead, don't sleep all day!" the voice called and walked away. "You're missing out on breakfast burritos!" the voice now faintly called, more muffled from the kitchen.

A wise choice.

The gorgon looked back down at her prey. The terrified expression with the open mouth, the missing nose, the blank stare.

She leaned down, gave the statue one final kiss on the mouth (tasting all the juices mixed over it), and then continuing to coil around her head tightly until the gorgon's sex organ was again right up against the statue's face and nose-hole.

The gorgon throbbed her sex organ against the statue's face once again. She squeezed and released over and over, increasing her rhythm with each thrust. The statue's eyebrows ground off into powder. The frozen hair above the statue's forehead chipped away.

The gorgon was once again building to a climax…

She squeezed her body a tiny bit - and tiny fissures started forming across the statue's smooth breasts.

The gorgon could her the other human cooking in the other room, ingredients sizzling. She had to make this quiet. But the thrill of discovery pushed her closer and closer to climax.

And then she finally reached it.

She juiced over the statue's face once more.

And then squeezed her body with a slow, steady, and unyielding pressure - uniform across the statue's body coiled up inside.

The statue cracked all over.

Worthless legs crumbled. Hips shattered. Tits pulverized.

The statue's head, and beautiful face, fractured apart.

Stone eyeballs slipped into the folds of the gorgon's scales until they were ground down into powder.

Stone lips, tongue and teeth following suit.

Even the statue's cute ears and hair weren't spared.

The gorgon was very careful not to let even a pebble slip through her scaly skin…

She continued the squeeze.

Stone torso continued cracking until the pressure - down into smaller rocks, then pebbles, then dust.

Stone, tight ass gained many more cracks than the one until the shapely body-part was no more.

One particular piece of the statue broke with a particularly loud CRACK.

"Babs? You getting up?" the voice called again.

The gorgon froze. Not a pebble slipped…

"Fine, I'll make you a burrito!"

And then, after a few moments of just the sounds of cooking, the gorgon released the statue's remains - gently uncoiling her body from the bottom up.

A fine gray powder fell to the wooden floor in between the pieces of the statue's broken arms, accompanied by some occasional pebbles and a larger rock or two. The powder fell into a conical pile.

Barely anything remained recognizable of the human female's body at this point. It had been crushed thoroughly, mercilessly and efficiently.

The gorgon was still juicing and made some of the pile of stone Babs powder damp. Until she finally emptied herself of her sexual needs.

The gorgon slid back and took a look. She smiled - it looked just like her first victim all those years ago…

And with all of her energy spent, the gorgon now hungered. And there was a meal before her.

She lowered her head down to the floor, and unhinged her jaw, opening her mouth extremely wide.

With one pass, she slid along the remains of stoned Batgirl remains.

Hands and arm fragments entered her mouth. Then inhaled the powder pile like a vacuum, and sucked up the remaining pieces the surrounded her.

She licked the floor clean.

Until the room was completely empty of anyone but the gorgon.

Except of course for the nose that the gorgon almost forgot still laid on the bed.

Grabbing it with a couple of fingers and feeling the moistness of the juices still covering it, she lifted it to her face.

She gave it a kiss.

And then slipped into inside her mouth and swallowed it in one big gulp.

And then no trace of Babs existed in the room.

The gorgon smirked - having thoroughly enjoyed her escapade and meal.

Sure a human being lost her life - but that was of little consequence in comparison to the gorgon fulfilling her sexual desires.

She might even consider coming back and doing the same to the other human in the kitchen - still completely in the dark about her friend's fate.

But for now, the gorgon chose to return to home. Making sure the coast was clear, she slipped out the window, closed it behind her, and found her way below surface with haste.

***

"Burrito time!" yelled Alysia, opening the door to Babs's bedroom.

But Babs was nowhere to be seen.

"Babs?"


THE END

My idea, I commissioned AgentTygress to write.
https://www.patreon.com/AgentTygress , DA→> https://www.deviantart.com/666markofthebeast666

Set in the far far away dystopian future, in a ruined city in The Empire's territory. There was a mining complex that turned into a rebel encampment about to get taken back by the Empire's rules. The mission was to eradicate all the rebels, no one will be spared, the blitz was fierce, fast, not so efficient, but the results made the higher up pleased. The footage was from the squad commander in RDV number 660 of the Empire's army. (See the picture of RDV in here. )


_________________________ Story part.__________


“How are they doing in there?” The driver asked.

“Wanking like there’s no tomorrow!” The commander laughed as she answered, watching the antics of the girls as she massaged her own clit through her skintight combat armour. She knew the symbolic armour would do nothing to stop incoming fire, but it did package her luscious body beautifully which meant that if she got noticed by some higher level commander reviewing combat footage there was a chance, however slim, that she might get called back to rear echelon to be their whore. It was a slim chance, she knew, but still better than the one she had out here. Even so, it was A LOT better chance than any of the girls currently reclining in their deployment positions and shivering with anticipation.
She sighed as she monitored the girls’ vitals on her screen. She’d just injected them with combat drugs a few minutes ago and wanted to make sure there were no cardiac failures. It was all too common with inexperienced models like these, not that most of them would have time to get experienced, like her. She knew just what it was like, of course; She could easily remember the terrible yearning for a home that she’d been taken from when she was just sixteen. Too young to really appreciate how much she was losing until it was too late.

By the time she’d really begun to appreciate just how special home had been it was already fading, drowned in a steady regimen of combat drugs, neurological realignment, and imperial propoganda. By the time they’d put a blaster carbine into her hands she couldn’t wait to die for the Empress. She’d been hit so many times in training, every instance of her simulated death accompanied by an orgasm so powerful that it was all she really wanted between operations. Even the sad, desperate make-out sessions that she shared with the other girls in their bunks after lights out were nothing compared to those moments on the battlefield, even though it was only simulated, it’s what she lived for.
Somehow she’d survived, though, even as all the girls she knew were blown away, sometimes one at a time, sometimes by the truckload. She envied them, of course, especially when she was selected for command tier and placed at the head of her own squad. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the work; watching sexy little girls getting blown away day in and day out was delectable, but even with all the rockets and blaster beams flying around she never seemed to manage to get hit.
She was drawn from her reverie by the sound of an explosion as the RDV right next to her is blown away, body parts and machine bits spewing across a jagged impact crater as the thing ruptures from within. She tries to tear her eyes away from the gruesome sight of entire tits rolling across the ground like ruptured beach balls but fails to look away as one of them comes to a wobbly stop only to eject the silicone implant that had filled it. The implant rolled away on it's own trajectory before being speared by a piece of falling shrapnel and oozing out it's white gel filling. Just as she managed to look away an entire uterus landed on the RDV's external rearview mirror, just a few centimeters from her face, and she found herself staring at the miraculously intact pair of ovaries dangling from it like earrings.
“Must have been one of those new delayed-det rockets!” The driver shouted back, her voice thick with lust and anticipation as she drove her machine through the splattering rain of meat, organs, blood and shrapnel that her best mate’s RDV had thrown up when it was taken out. In the tight confines of her command chair the commander yearned to DO something, her muscles pulsing insistently that she ACT; Do something! Her mind screamed at her. The fight or flight instinct went quite mad, raging like an animal against the sadomasochistic array of straps and clips that kept her delectable body secured to her compact chair. No; there was nothing for it. The driver would keep barreling forwards into what was quickly becoming a torrent of enemy fire, and one of those beams or rockets would do for them, or they wouldn’t. There certainly wasn’t anything she could do about it so she did the only thing she could; she enjoyed it.

“OHhhhh…” The commander moaned softly, joining half the girls in their coffin-like deployment racks as she climaxed inside her sexy, revealing combat suit….

“Hey why are these suits so tight anyway?” One of the girls, straight out of basic, asked suddenly, taking advantage of the tightness of her suit to rub her clit right through the thin material, but still curious.
"Eye candy!" Put in a cute girl with glasses. "It's so we look super kawaii as we get blown away! They're watching these missions live, you know!" She smiled and glammed for the cameras that she was quite right - were watching them at every moment.

“Sure, but it’s also to keep us together as much as possible when we get blown apart.” The girl on the rack right in front of hers gasped out through what sounded like a delicious climax.
“Huh, like, for medical reasons?” Another girl wondered aloud, her voice doing all sorts of funny things as she rode the crest of her first combat drug-induced climax down to the start of the next set of multiple orgasms she was thrashing through.

“Nah,” replied the girl in the front rack who seemed so well informed. “So that it’s easier to pick up the pieces. You know, for recycling!”
“That makes sense,” The girl who’d first asked the question agreed with a serious nod. “OH!” She gasped as she climaxed again at the thought of her own death, just as her mental conditioning dictated she do.

“No it doesn’t!” Objected another of the rookies. This little deviant was some kind of prude, and she was turning bright pink from the effort of rejecting what the combat drugs were telling her she should do.

“Oh no, Reject,” Another of the rookies called her by her cruel training nickname. “Why not?”

“Don’t call me that,” Reject pouted. “My designation’s 242027, not reject.”

“Whatever you say, Reject!” Another girl piped up, her young voice trailing away to a scream at the end as she climaxed explosiverly, sure that some of her pussy milk would splatter the girl in the rack in front of her. Alas, her catheters sucked up all her juices, but she still enjoyed picturing the other girl’s annoyed face as she splattered her with her vagnial spew.

“Why doesn’t it make sense anyway?” Another girl who hadn’t spoken up yet asked.

“It doesn’t make any sense because they finish us off if we get wounded!” Reject explained, sounding thoroughly exasperated with the other girl, and also quite frustrated as her suit and body kept insisting that she get off, which she continued resolutely refusing to do.

“Our leftover organs aren’t for us, stupid!” The know-it-all girl in the front row laughed at Reject. “They’re for important people, you know! Like the commander!”

“But that doesn’t…” Reject began to object, before the commander cut her off.

“Traps shut, sluts!” She shouted over the comm to get their attention. “We’re there, bitches! Doors open in FIVE, FOUR, THREE…” She counted down with ruthless precision.

Through the impossibly cramped passenger ‘compartment’ of the vehicle the girls moaned collectively in anticipation, each of them knowing that the next few second would probably be her last. None moreso than the girls in the front row that knew the sights of the enemy would be trained on them and dead steady. The girls in the second row could hope for their lives to be spared by the recoil from the first shot. The girls in the first row were talking meat, and they knew it.

“For the Empress!” The know-it-all girl moaned as the commander’s coundown reached zero and the driver punched the discharge human cargo button. The gate clanged down with mechanical inevitability and the first thing that came through the open space was the blaster bolt that caught her right in the pussy. She got as far as “…the emp” before the bolt slammed into her watering cunt and cut a swath clean through most of the length of her body, vapourizing or exploding her internal organs before bursting out through the base of her neck and singing the hair on the back of her head before finally discharging against the armored footrest of the girl in the rack behind her. The girl she’d just traded her life to save.

“MY PUSSY!” She screamed, aghast, or at least would have if, when she opened her mouth, words had come out instead of a torrent of blood. As it was she aspirated a geyser of blood straight into the air as the footrests of the girls in the front row clacked down and her body was unceremoniously dumped onto the scorched concrete of the battlezone.

The girls below and to the sides of her had gotten much the same treatment, and their bodies joined her in the dust, twitching spasmodically as the mortally young ladies quickly joined each other in death. The girls behind them fared better. Two of the girls from the second row and three from the third row actually lived long enough for their feet to touch the ground, though one of the girls from the fourth row, know-it-all, only survived for about a half a second after that, gasping as a blaster bolt passed right through the center of her chest and splattered the girl behind her in her heart and lungs. She had just enough time to gasp in a pitiful squeak, then her eyes crossed behind her glasses in the most utterly adorable way and she managed to hold that expression, somehow, as her lifeless body hit the ground.

More girls were pouring out of the RDV now, and when they didn’t immediately join the growing bodypile at the base of the RDV they charged forwards into the shattered no-man’s land of broken concrete and pock-marked mud that separated them from their target, the rebellious mining complex.

The commander watched in appreciation, her heart swelling with pride even as her labia swelled with blood. Her girls were bravely charging right into the teeth of enemy fire and not giving an inch. Granted they were dying like flies, but they were following their orders and that was what mattered. As soon as one fell another would be there to leap over her dying body. It took only seconds for the girls to charge across the no-man’s land, leaving a trail of corpses in their wake, and blast their way into the mining complex.

As the RDVs slewed away from the rebel-held strongpoint the miner’s Jerry-rigged point-defense-systems took a heavy toll on the lightly armoured vehicles, blowing two more away completely and vapourising the driver’s compartment of a third before they made it over a nearby ridge and out of the line of fire. Apparently the driver was the lucky one because the commander had had her legs, hands, and lower pelvis all shorn off with almost surgical precision. She knew because both sides knew; the dying commander was breathlessly narrating her own death over an open channel as the introduction to a plea for mercy.
"Please," the dying girl begged all the combatants over the static of an uncoded frequency. "Please I'm looking at my uterus right now…" She paused to cough up some blood. "It's… it's filled with semen from the last man that fucked me and it's… my uterus is leaking onto the seat. I'm… cough cough… watching my uterus leak out my last fuck. Please kill me… please…" It went on and on like that, everyone listening to the girl's pitiful prayer for death and no one obliging her because they were all enjoying it far, far too much. In the end the girl's fate was to bleed out over the course of the engagement as her suit first tried and failed to keep her alive, then started triage treatment on her remaining viable organs.
The commander found her mate’s pitiful begging and moaning to be the perfect accompaniment to the high-resolution video she was getting from her troopers’ helmet cams of the fight inside the facility. The rebels were brave and knew that they’d be rape-tortured to death if captured, so they fought with the desperation of those that have nothing to lose, but their skintight, unarmoured mining suits provided nothing in the way of protection from blasters, though their tubed face masks would have saved them from some types of chemical weapons the Imperials might have chosen to deploy. They might have tried such methods, too, if human life had been worth anything to them. As it was, however, expending troopers was a sure thing, and no matter how many were killed taking the facility there were always plenty more girls to take their place.

The first squad to reach the inner stairwell, the last bastion of the rebel’s defense charged down heedless of casualties, and died to a girl with the exception of the squad leader, who had the misfortune of being hit in the leg and grabbed by the few surviving rebels at the bottom. The commander started rubbing her clit even more furiously in anticipation as she watched the scene unfold through the girl’s chest cams.

“Let’s rape her with a blaster and blow away her uterus from the inside!” Screamed one of the rebels as she roughly caressed the poor wounded trooper’s swollen labia with the smoking barrel of her blaster. The commander’s pouty lips formed the word ‘yes’ without making a sound as the rebel made to carry through with her threat.

“No, WAIT!” Screamed the rebel’s companion, but it was too late. The trooper moaned in ecstasy-laden despair as her intravaginal mine detonated as the rebel roughly penetrated her with her blaster. The resulting explosion tore the trooper in half and killed or injured all the remaining rebels. By the time the next breaching squad rushed down the stairs all they had to do was finish off the few wounded rebels with shots to the back or head, and it was all over.

“All hostile down,” The commander noted, her voice shuddering distinctly as she came down off another orgasm that felt like it had risen up from benthic depths. “Make sure you finish off the wounded and get all of your sister’s corpses up here!” She instructed as she was the most senior surviving commander in the remaining RDVs.

She listened with satisfaction to the staccato rhythm of execution shots, each solitary report signifying the end of an injured trooper’s life as the girls turned on their own to save valuable medical resources and body parts for more useful members of the Imperial war machine.

“Give me just a second!” Begged 242027, the rookie that the commander vaguely recalled the other girl’s had nicknamed ‘Reject’ because she didn’t want to get off on her combat drugs. Gravely wounded, her intestines spewed out elaborately behind her, her left breast blown off and spread across several meters of the hallway. Her right breast was blown open but somehow the implant inside was perfectly preserved, jiggling as she desperately stroked herself She was masturbating furiously, biting her up from pain, her face screwed up in an adorable expression of concentration as she desperately manipulated her clit.

“Sorry, reject,” the other rookie responded with a grin as she raised her blaster and put it to the other girl’s forehead, destroying the brain being the preferred method of preserving maximum usable organs on a wounded trooper. “But orders are orders!”

“NO! But I’ve never…” Reject was objecting when the other girl blew her brains out, laughing as the rookie’s corpse meaninglessly shuddered through the throes of the girl’s first and last orgasm without it’s owner onboard to appreciate it.

“Oh perfect,” The commander smiled as the rookie’s cruelty brought a sincere smile to her voluptuous lips, and she leaned back into her most powerful orgasm yet. She might have lived to fight another day, but there was always tomorrow, and after she was done carting the remains of her dead troopers (12 of the 18 vivacious girls under her command a few minutes ago were now cooling corpses) back to base she’d get a little sack time, fuck a few of her surviving girls, and then the whole lot of them would be sent against the next rebel stronghold. Surely she’d get it that time, or if not then, the next…

My Fanbox pixiv.net /fanbox/creator/3820163/post/852424 If you want to support me to draw more and create more of this series.

Recently, someone emailed this story to me. I can't see it posted anywhere on the interwebs, but I really enjoyed it, so thought I'd repost it here.

If anyone knows who the author is, or if it goes by a different title, then do say so.

Just to be absolutely clear – I didn't write this.

My Pastebin of old and new stories is back up and running - massive thanks to everyone who made it possible!
https://pastebin.com/u/PereFouettard

"Get your tits out." I told the beautiful monster.

"But I'm your mother!" She protested as she unbuttoned her blouse.

"I said get your tits out, Bitch!" I commanded as I cocked the gun I had aimed at her magnificent bosom, adding some urgency to her efforts to display it for me. "I want to see how much they bounce when I shoot them."

My mother froze when she finished processing what I said, which is just what I wanted. She had already exposed her massive breasts to me and I shot her between them three times. They bounced, rippled, and lactated as if in celebration of the murder of their owner as she fell to her knees, gaping like a fish out of water before falling into her back and showering herself with her own milk. If I had any hope of resisting the urge to rape her before, it certainly disappeared after that show. The congregation was too horrified to stop me.

When I knelt between her thighs and stuck my cock into her pussy, I could feel it trying to heat up and cool down at the same time. While thrusting, I leaned forward and licked up some of the milk her body released to relieve the burden on her lungs. Then I moved my face up to hers and forced my dying mother to drink some of her own milk. I then whispered into her ear.

"You can't hurt me any more, now. But look at it this way: you don't have to worry about your heart problems." After I came inside her, I turned my attention to the pastor's three beautiful, angelic daughters. "Take your clothes off. You'll be escorting my mother to Heaven."

"ATTENTION. ATTENTION. ALL NANOTEK PERSONNEL SHOULD BE ON HIGH ALERT. THERE IS A DOG LOOSE CONTAINING HAZARDOUS MATERIAL. FOR YOUR SAFETY, DO NOT ATTEMPT TO APPROACH ANY CANINES ON CAMPUS UNTIL THE HAZARDOUS ANIMAL HAS BEEN CONTAINED. REPEAT, DO NOT ATTEMPT TO APPROACH ANY CANINES UNTIL THE HAZARDOUS ANIMAL HAS BEEN CONTAINED. IF YOU SEE ANY CANINES ON CAMPUS, PLEASE FIND SAFETY AND REPORT THEIR LOCATION TO SECURITY IMMEDIATELY."

The announcement blared on repeat thru the halls of the entire NanoTek complex. At this point most hallways were void of any people.

The mutt was still on the loose, and there no telling what kind of fate befall any poor soul that came upon the pup run amok.

By now, everyone on the campus heard the repeated message ad nauseam.

Everyone… but Serena Weskler.

Serena was very late in arriving that morning.

She had quite a night with her new-ish boyfriend - going on their tenth date. And they couldn't help themselves to a little "morning work-out" when they woke up together. But after finally getting a look at the clock during their 3rd time, she noticed it was already 30 minutes past when she was supposed to already be in, and they had to finish up quick…

She took an even quicker shower and hurried to get dressed out of her overnight bag, putting on her flowery green blouse with a generous opening for her generous cleavage, and a black pencil skirt that accentuated her very tight behind. She donned her pumps and was on her way.

The 22 year old short brunette with brown eyes, cool honey skin, straight, shoulder-length, tied-back black hair, and enviably full lips, arrived at the campus - moments after security decided they tortured everyone enough with the announcement and stopped playing it…

She walked up towards gate to the campus. Curiously, the regular security guards were not at the gate. Weird.

The young personal assistant shrugged, flashed her ID badge at the scanner and entered the campus without a problem.

She had no idea that ALL security had been pulled to hunt for the dangerous canine.

She noticed it was curiously vacant of people around the campus grounds. Normally there would be at least a few handfuls of people milled about. Was there a holiday she forgot about?

She approached the building that contained her office and stepped inside. Her heel clicks echoed throughout the empty hall.

Where was everyone?

She had no idea the building was quickly evacuated after someone spotted the hazardous hound.

Security was still mobilizing their way over there across the very large campus from one of the several false alarms.

She happened to arrive just after the moment that the last few out the building had just fled, and security had not yet arrived.

As she approached the elevator bank, she heard the familiar scattering of nails on tile floor.

The scatterings of a dog's nails.

And from around the corner, down the hall, came an adorable black pup.

And Serena LOVED dogs.

Her boyfriend had a delightful black and white husky - a big part of the reason why she liked being over his place so much. Plus she grew up with a couple of lovable German Shepherds. And she even used to volunteer at a dog shelter as a teenager.

"Oh my god, you're ADORABLE! Come here cutie!!" she shouted down the hall, beckoning him by bending forward at the waist and clapping on her thighs - tightening her pencil skirt even more against her perfectly shaped ass. No one else was there to see the generous amount of cleavage as she leaned over, or to see that Serena was not wearing anything else under her skirt…

The cute dog couldn't help but follow Serena's command and took off towards her. It came lumbering down the hallway, with wide brown eyes, black fur, ears pinned back, and tongue out. Panting. Clearly exhausted from a long run.

"Aww c'mere baby!" said Serena as the dog neared. A small part of her wondered why a dog was on campus when all pets were banned from the premises. But most of her focused on the imminent cuddles.

She crouched down and put out her arms out to take him in - tightening her skirt visibly against her tight form even more.

The dog entered her embrace.

"Aww sweetie, you look so tired!" she commented as the dog nuzzles up against her face and chest.

"Are you thirsty baby?" she asked sweetly and compassionately.

And then the dog licked her nose and cheek.

"Aww your tongue is so dry!" she said with some concerned affection. "Let's get you some water!"

But before she could stand back up, her nose and cheek started tinging. And the tingling spread across the rest of her pretty face.

Before she knew it, the tingling spread thru her eyes and up into her brain.

And then the tingling stopped - and the mind of Serena Weskler was no more.

What Serena had no time to realize was that the tingling she felt was actually the process of nanobots converting her face and head to dihydrogen monoxide.

Normally known as water.

The nanobots quickly spread across the rest of Serena's crouched down, now-lifeless body, which only just started to tip over.

All her tied-back straight black hair, down to last strand, liquefied.

They sped down her neck, down towards her considerable, well-exposed cleavage, and across her collarbone to her shoulders.
The nanobots split into groups and continued down each arm as they disconnected off her body.

Since she was still hugging and petting the dog at the start of her incident, both her hands were around the adorable but dangerous mutt. The led to her arms dangling off the dog's neck and back for a moment before they slipped off and were finished off by the ruthless nanobots, turning into water and splashing towards the ground.

Serena was now spilling into her green blouse, soaking the fabric.

Tits turned into two spheres of water for an instant before running down her remaining body and getting more of the blouse doused.

Nanobots continued down her short torso quickly, belly now soaking into her blouse and skirt or running down her crouched legs.

The top of her empty blouse started leaning over to the side.

Thin waist liquefied.

The nanobots marched over her tight, sculpted ass, totally uncaring of the destruction they are wreaking on such a treasure, and such a disservice to the world by erasing it and converting it to water. Perfect form collapsing, former ass atoms falling away down her legs to the floor, or getting soaked into her extremely damp pencil skirt.

Hips and pussy followed sad suit.

Programmed to focus only on one organic set of DNA at a time, the nanobots ignored some white fluid that was currently present in her crotch. It mostly soaked into her skirt with nothing between to stop it.

Only her crouched, nimble legs remained, which were still tipping over towards the floor. They didn't have a chance to move much further before the nanobots chomped thru her delicious thighs, thru her knees, and down towards her petite feet.

All turned to water that mostly fell to the floor. Her feet pooled up in her heels which stayed upright and full.

Drenched blouse smacked against the floor sideways.

Inundated skirt also smacked against the floor sideways, leaving her water-filled heels open to the air above.

The dog sniffed at her heels… and started lapping up the water that was once Serena's foot.

Just then security entered the building. They ran over to the elevator bank and came across the grisly sight.

A completely soaked outfit, a pair of flooded heels, and a dog lapping it up.

It was quite evident to security what happened.

Without any time to focus on the poor victim, the security officers tried hitting the dog with shots of their tranq rifles.

None of them hit, and the dog started running away down the empty hall.

The many security officers followed, running right over the puddle of pour liquid Serena and her ruined, water-logged outfit - creating gross squishes with every boot stomp. And in the puddle that was once Serena, a tiny spot of thick white fluid from her morning endeavors remained untouched by the nanobots (and by the dog's lapping tongue) - the same morning endeavors that made her late to work, and miss a very important announcement…

Story contains F-Solo, Consensual Snuff, Explosives

As it turned out, blasting gelatin was not easy to come by. One could not simply walk into a hardware store and ask for several liters of gooey, malleable explosives. Jessica has to do quite some wheeling and dealing to get her eager hands on a drum of the stuff. Apparently, it was ‘excess’ from some mining operation in South America, but she didn’t care if her peculiar proclivities set back some diamond tycoons operations by a few weeks.

All she cared about was the bang.

Jessica almost squealed in delight when she saw that her benefactors had thrown in a detonator and a few cartoon-like sticks of dynamite. Perhaps they thought she was robbing a bank. She snickered at the thought of herself in a striped burglar outfit, cat burglar mask and big bag marked ‘swag’, crouched over the detonator with her ears plugged. Truly, no safe would be… well… safe.

It took some hauling to get the full barrel into the room she had prepared. A large bed with white satin sheets stood in the centre of a checkerboard tile floor. The walls were mirrored, as was the ceiling. A bedside table was, as one might guess, beside the bed. It was surrounded by buckets and held a large soup ladle and a pair of pink swimming goggles. Jessica carefully placed the detonator on the table and, as an afterthought, put a large, smooth, red stick of dynamite next to it. Smiling to herself, she dashed from the room and returned with a black marker pen. Writing “TNT” on the side of the explosive device, she sat back, satisfied at its cartoonish appearance.

And here I was wondering which vibrator to use, she thought.

Her eagerness to jump right into the fun almost took over, but she decided on having a shower first

Must let the anticipation build.

Jessica wandered to her bathroom, and admired herself in the mirror. “Fuck, girl, this is going to be amazing,” she complimented herself. She gave herself a striptease, pouting and gyrating like a pole dancer.

Am I a narcissus? Maybe. But a fucking hot one. She squeezed her breasts and slid a finger between her legs.

A fucking wet one, too. She sucked on the finger, gave her reflection one last coquettish wink, and hopped into the shower.

It didn’t last long, and after drying herself from her long hair to her longer legs, her desire drew her back to the explosive room again. Seeing her apparatus laying out, she dropped her towel in excitement. She walked on tippy-toes over the cold floor, her luxurious naked body reflected a million times in the mirrors. She carefully removed the lid of the barrel of gelatin, and dipped a finger in the highly explosive goo, removing a sticky, pearly white dab of the stuff.

Looks like cum, she pondered. Unable to resist, she licked the coated finger. Bleh! She stuck her tongue out, as if getting it out of her mouth would help with the horrible taste. Does not taste as good. No, sir.

But, I’m not here to eat it… although… The thought of being stuffed full of explosives flashed through her mind and added to her excitement. She toyed with the idea, but ultimately rejected it on the grounds of bad taste.

She began filling up buckets with blasting gelatin, her shoulders rolling as she pulled bucket load after bucket load of cool, explosive jelly out of the barrel. Walking to the other side of the bed, she poured an entire bucket of gelatin on the bed, the white satin sheets going grey beneath the slick jelly. Molding a pile near the bedside table, she attached the wires from the detonator, noting the unnecessary meters of blasting cord provided, obviously to give the detonator a safe distance from the blasting zone.

They really had no idea.

Then she put on the only item of clothing she would wear; the swimming goggles. Can’t possibly see what I look like if I go and get this in my eyes. Eyeing the large cum-like stain of explosive goo on the bed, she wondered why bukkake actresses never wore goggles. Shrugging, she pulled her hair up through the band of the goggles and let it fall down over her shoulders and back. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she eyed the highly explosive buckets.

Where to start?

Tentatively, like a woman slowly getting into a pool, Jessica dipped the tip of her big toe into the goo, giggling at the ticklish sensation. She immersed her whole foot, and then pulled it back out, letting the blasting jelly slide off the top. She wiggled her toes, the milky-white blasting-cum between them making her giggle, then laugh out, tossing her head back. She dipped the foot back in, and lay back, gasping at the cool reminder of the pool of slightly more stable nitroglycerin her. Jessica felt the pressure of the goo spreading out, warming to her body heat. She wondered if she could set it off without the detonator, just by getting herself hot enough…

She lifted her leg, pointing her jelly covered foot straight up, letting the gelatin run down the length of her leg, sliding slickly over her calf and thigh but slowing, getting thicker, just before her wet pussy. She rolled her eyes at the explosives lack of enthusiasm, and ran her middle finger up the inside of her thigh, coating it with oily goo. Carefully, she added it to her own pussy juices, rubbing the jelly that could blast through a rock wall slowly over her lower lips. She sighed, smiling, a warmth building between her legs faster than she’d ever known before.

With warmth came energy, and Jessica hefted a bucket up, pouring it over her breasts with an almost manic grin. It was a cumshot, her own bukkake, a slick, wicked picture of sticky joy. The explosive poured down her body, pooled on her taught tummy around her belly button, flowed over her waist onto the sheets and down over her pussy, quickly warming to her rising body heat. She grabbed another bucket, thoughts of carefully ladling it over herself forgotten to the idea of being coated, now, faster, more. She squealed with delight as she poured it over head, her hair getting slimy, a vision of dangerous, perilous goo cumming down over her swim goggles. The unpleasant taste forgotten, she both spat and swallowed explosives, moaning with gastronomic satisfaction as her mouth filled with liquid dynamite, as it spilt over her chin and onto her breasts. The bucket clattered as it fell to the floor, a used receptacle, a used condom in an orgy of explosive pleasure.

Jessica’s long fingers swirled over her clit, and she massaged her tits, pinching her nipples then grabbing the whole breast as if frustrated that she couldn’t squeeze all the pleasure out at once. Her body glistened with oily explosive as she writhed on the bed, a bed that could now blow a hole in a cliff side. Her breast hand wandered down her body, sliding over her abdomen, down to join the other hand in pleasuring her pussy. Her fingers briefly laced together as her right hand clenched the left in a moment of building ecstasy, then, slick with her own cum and the oily gelignite, she plunged her middle finger deep into herself.

The sudden pleasure of pressure on her g-spot mixed with the pleasure of working her clit like nitro and glycerin. Jessica’s eyes flared and she let out a laugh, a laugh that turned to gasping and then screaming with ecstasy as she fuck… fuck… FUCKED herself. Her legs splayed apart, knocking a bucket of gelignite onto the tiles. Her left hand stopped rubbing her clit as the palm of her right, so oily, so lubricated, took over, abandoning the circular motion of a gentle finger for the fast paced up and down motion of a hard fuck. She didn’t even pause when she slid her ring finger in, past the knuckle, bound up tight in her pussy against her middle finger. Her free hand clutched first at her messy, gooey hair, then at the slick, now dangerous satin sheets. She clenched at the bed as she fucked herself closer and closer.

Jessica’s screams had turned to breathless gasps as she built herself up. Her thighs started to squeeze down on her hand and her head tossed from side to side. She caught a glance of the detonator, the t-shaped plunger tantalizingly close, and she reached out and held it, sliding her hand up and down the middle stick like the hard cock of a favored fuck-buddy. She even laced hand over the top and clenched it, ready to press down, but she had to let go, her left hand automatically darting back down to her clit as she lifted her right hand higher, so she could go deeper, faster.

She came.

It was intense. Explosive. All the forced and power she craved, it was as if it went off inside her. Her back arched, breasts falling back and ribcage stretching the toned muscle from her chest to her waist even tighter. Her legs stretched, her toes pointed. She squeezed her thighs together, her pussy so tight around her fingers. Curled up on her back, she shuddered and shook with waves of pleasure for what felt like forever.

As she came back down from the orgasmic high, she splayed herself out on her bed, sighing happily, her cheeks flushed. She looked at herself in the mirror and giggled almost shyly. As she slowly played with her clit, savoring the tingling, she eyed the detonator. “You almost had me there,” she accused.

She rested for a short while, teasing her clit into another, much smaller orgasm. An aperitif of sorts, one that made her bite down softly on her full lips. And when she tried to sit up, she made an exciting discovery.

Despite the movement and warmth, the gelignite had hardened, making it tricky to get up. Enough of it, and movement would clearly be impossible.

While explosives are definitely my number one fetish, Jessica thought, bondage is definitely up there too.

Excited by this new, unthought-of prospect, she got to work heaping and layering the gelignite to make a slippery, oily pile that would melt over her and set, fixing her to the bed. She positioned the detonator carefully, making sure she would still be able to reach it while stuck. And then she saw her TNT, her shaft of dynamite, and her lust reignited.

Taking the bomb from the table, she strutted over to a mirrored wall, taking in her gelignite covered body, her breasts smooth and gleaming, her legs still dripping with explosive jelly. She took off her goggles and gazed into the mirror, her playfully curling the wick of the dynamite around her fingers. Pouting erotically, she gave the dynamite a soft kiss, and then licked the tip of her tongue from one end to another. It didn’t have a taste like the gelignite, but she wouldn’t care if it did. With a smile, she wrapped her full lips slowly over the end of the bomb.

Jessica’s eyes rolled back and her eyelids fluttered, the feeling of a shaft in her mouth exhilarating her. She remembered past blow jobs; the sucking the cocks of boyfriends, fellating the sex toys of girlfriends. And the thought that this was a bomb, dynamite, TNT, that if she wanted she could light the wick and give herself orgasmic oral sensation until it exploded, until she exploded…

Her eyes closed, deep-throating the TNT, she slowly walked backward to the explosive bed, her feet leaving footprints in the pools of spilt blasting jelly. She lay down, plastic explosive oozing up around her body, holding her down, embracing her, over her ankles, across her tummy, around her neck. She held the dynamite with two hands, still fucking it with her mouth, eager to fuck it with her pussy but reticent to relinquish it from her lips. The long red stick slid in and out, the wick coiled around her ring finger that not long ago had been deep inside her pussy. The sucking sounds got louder, more eager, as she pictured a burning wick getting ever shorter, ever closer, with the bomb deep inside her mouth.

As Jessica vigorously blew the explosive, the gelignite that had layered her like leather bonds stiffened. Her legs could no longer move, though she could still curl her toes and point her feet with pleasure. Her neck was fastened down to the sheet, too heavy with explosives to move. And while she writhed with pleasure, she could not move from the bed.

She was thrilled beyond words at the helplessness. Giving the dynamite one last, long, deep kiss, she moved the stick down to her wet, slick pussy. Slowly rubbing the end of it around her pussy lips, she gave out a gasp as she plunged the bomb deep inside of her. Holding it still, with the wick still wrapped around her finger, she put her other hand on the detonator plunger. She wanted to suck that, too, to fuck the t-shaped bar that would give her such a blast so soon with her mouth, her tongue, and her lips. But she couldn’t lift her head. She could only watch her splayed out, gelignite bound body in the mirror above as she started to roll her hips, her butt sliding on the smooth, oily satin, as she thrust the dynamite in and out.

She was coated with explosive cum, bound with it, full of it. Her pussy was being pleasured by a shaft of dynamite, the full ecstatic enormity of it all mirrored in her excited eyes as she watched herself fuck herself, her eyes growing wide, pressure building so fast, so fast, the big red bomb fucking her, fucking her hard, everything a slippery, gooey mess, a gooey mess that was gonna explode, all at once!

“Oh, my fucking GOD!” she shouted as she worked the dynamite in and out of herself faster and deeper, one hand on the detonator, toes clenching the sheets, hips thrusting up and down within the restraints of the explosive jelly, explosive goo, explosive cum… she clenched the stick of TNT harder and tipped her head back, then to the side, her fingers wrapped around the detonator, the det cord reaching down to her like an eager voyeur and she about to blow… about to explode…

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m FUCKING CUMM-MM-ING!” she moaned rapidly. A million kiloton orgasms blasted over her and she tried to push down the detonator.

Instead, her hands too slippery with explosive slime, the detonator fell to the floor.

“NO!” she howled, still fucking herself, still cumming, unable to stop. She looked about madly, unable to get up, looking for something to light the wick to the dynamite that was deep in and out of her pussy, the bomb that was making her cum.

Another orgasm pulled her away from the useless search, and her whole body tried to lift from the bed, straining against the now-solid explosives around her body. She kept fucking herself, screams of frustration lost to screams of orgasm. Another orgasm, the fourth… fifth?… washed over her, and she slowed, stopped, panting, breathing hard, hand still holding the dynamite, dynamite still filling her, her pussy muscles trying to pull it further in, to keep fucking.

But when Jessica kicked with frustration at her perfect erotic fantasy being spoiled by slippery fingers (never a problem before), she found her leg was free. All the shaking, moving, must have been enough.

Using the ceiling mirror to guide her long, voluptuous leg, she found the detonator on the floor. The unnecessary length of detonation cord proved useful in the end, as it was still attached beside her. Jessica gave herself a smug smile in the mirror above, which turned to laughter as she began fucking herself again, slower this time, like making love.

She tried to move the detonator back to the bed, but it has stuck fast in the gelignite spilled earlier. No matter, she thought, I can press down with my foot when I’m ready to…

Ready to…

“Ready to blow-ow-OHMYGOD!” The slow motion of the stick of dynamite in her pussy had triggered an orgasm so powerful, so unexpected. Jessica couldn’t believe the raw pleasure of the sensation as it took over her body, from deep inside her pussy. She moaned loudly, back arched, fists clenching. Unable to stop it. Not wanting to stop it. Wanting to explode as her legs and feet stretched without her willing it, as the pleasure took over and pushed down the detonator…

Ka-BOOM!

This story is a commission from Digger but I hope everyone enjoys it!

Pt 1

“Well shit.” Sam slumped at the kitchen table and ran his fingers through his thinning hair. The cup of tea his best friend and long-time colleague Keith had made for him sat untouched and cooling rapidly. “That’s us ruined. Guess the dream is over?”

“What about the compensation?” Keith asked. “They said on the website that anyone subject to the action would have their losses covered?”

“Yeah.” Sam signed sardonically. “In six to eight months! Fuck…” He tried a sip of the tea but found it too cold so stood up and took it to the microwave, as much out of a need to occupy himself as a desire for the tea. “Guess we have to start looking for proper jobs after all…”

“There could be another way.” Keith observed.

“How?” Sam rounded on his friend somewhat aggressively, his frustration at the situation coming out in miss-directed anger. “We’ve been doing this for years! Buy a small pig, raise it for a year, butcher said pig and sell the meat, buy a new small pig and start over, putting the profits from the meat into the business keeping the rest of the farm afloat! No way we can afford a new piglet, even if there were any to be had which I doubt there are, let alone everything else we need to keep ticking over! Not it the fucking government are going to take the best part of a year to send us any money!”

A particularly virulent new strain of Swine Flu had been sweeping across Britain and the government had recently passed legislation that all domestic and wild pigs, whether they be in farms, zoos or private homes were to be destroyed and their carcasses removed for disposal. Teams were travelling around the country carrying out these instructions and in the mean time, a ban had been placed on the sale of all pork and derivative products. Some larger companies could potentially weather this setback but Sam knew there was no way he could.

He and Keith had been running the farm together as co-owners since Sam had inherited the property nearly ten years ago but they had been friends for far longer. At first, it had been Sam who had the resources but Keith who had the know-how. Over the years, however, Sam had learned enough to feel like he was pulling his weight although he knew he would never be half the farmer Keith was.

“There is another option.” Keith looked out the window to where their respective daughters, only weeks apart in age, firm friends and thick as thieves, were playing on the lawn. “Of course we may not be able to get another piglet but maybe a few sheep or even a calf? There’s room for a cow in the barn after all, if we partition it off.” Sam sighed.

“Well yeah it doesn’t have to be a piglet but to keep going and even think about getting another animal to raise we need meat to sell right now and, unless you know about a secret stash that I’m not aware of, we don’t have any!”

“Oh you know about it alright!” Keith chuckled, looking out the window again but more pointedly.

“What do you…” Sam suddenly realised what Keith was suggesting. “No, we couldn’t… could we?”

“It’s not illegal!” Keith shrugged. “Plus we’ve got the new little one and your Rita is pregnant so she’s going to have her hands full soon with a three year old and a newborn!”

“Well yeah I guess…” Sam looked intently out at the two cheerful, chubby little six year olds. Certainly the two of them combined would provide a similar amount of meat to the pig they were losing and, although he had never before traded in it himself, he knew that girl-meat sold for a higher per-kilo rate than pork or beef. Plus, if their usual buyer wasn’t interested, there would be plenty of others who would be. In practical terms, it made perfect sense. Could he do it, ‘though? Cut his own little girls’ throat and butcher her like a pig? He noticed that his younger daughter, three year old Anna, had wandered over to join the older girls that she looked up to greatly, considering them both to be her big sisters.

“It would make sense.” Sam conceded, taking a deep breath and removing the now-warmed cup of tea from the microwave. “Good money in that kind of thing too. Don’t think I could do it unless they were willing ‘though. What do you think? Maybe if we explain it to them and how important it is for us and the little ones they’d be up for it?”

“I think they just might!” Keith nodded slowly, thinking of the times he had caught her daughter Sophie looking at the farmyard butchering equipment and cuts of meat hanging in the freezer with fascination, and all the questions she had asked that time they’d driven past a girl-meat restaurant when visiting relatives. He was pretty sure that if she was asked, Sophie would be a willing volunteer and if Sophie was game then Becca, Sam’s daughter, was unlikely to say no. Perhaps, he thought, it might be as well to square it with their wives before asking the girls who might actually not just be willing but very excited at the prospect and disappointed if it didn’t happen because their mums vetoed the plan!

Realising it could be quite a hard sell but hoping that his wife would understand the circumstances, Sam called his wife Rita in from the next room where she was watching TV and catching up on the latest gossip with Keith’s wife Brenda. Both came in and joined their husbands at the kitchen table. Their facial expressions went from amusement when they first heard the idea, thinking it was a joke, to incredulity when they realised it was not and their the men were seriously proposing butchering their daughters and selling their meat in place of the pig that the government agents would be taking away within the next forty-eight hours, according to the phone call Sam had received.

As the men put the case, however, both mothers started to realise that it really was the only way, unless they were to uproot the families and potentially face ruin, losing everything they had all worked so hard for over the last decade. On top of this, as sad as they would be to lose their children, both had to admit their lives would be greatly simplified by having one less to care for! Eventually, they agreed to the farmers’ plan but on the condition that, as Sam had said, the girls would have to be willing.

“Hey!” Sam’s eldest daughter, thirteen year old Melissa wandered in, having heard the sounds of earnest conversation from her room above and wanting to know what the adults were plotting. Sam and Rita had had her when they were very young, only in their late teens themselves and still just dating. She had been a mistake, or a happy accident as they preferred to put it, and neither had been ready for a child yet learning to care for her had brought them closer together and cemented their relationship, resulting in their eventual marriage. Becca, Anna had been planned although the one who was now on their way had not been. “What’s going on in here? Why’s everyone looking so serious?”

Hearing the explanation, Melissa was intrigued but also a little concerned. Did their plans also involve her, she wondered? Would she find herself sold to some fancy restaurant to make way for the new baby? As if guessing her thoughts, Sam reached out and put a reassuring hand on her arm and promised that they only had plans to butcher and sell the six year olds. If she, at some point in the future, wanted to either volunteer or sell her meat that would, of course, be her own decision but not one that they would be forcing on her. Still, the young teen did not like the rather hungry way her dad’s best friend was looking at her. Maybe her own parents were not seeing her as potential meat but Keith certainly was!

Since there was no more discussion to be had, the men decided that they should go out and put the suggestion to the girls. Melissa and the two mothers stayed inside, looking anxiously out the window to see how they would react. It seemed as if the dads tried to get little Anna to give them some privacy but she didn’t seem to want to leave. The two pretty youngsters listened with interest as the plan was laid out for them. They looked at each other and exchanged some words while Sam and Keith watched anxiously. Then they bust out in giggles and happily made some announcement to the farmers. Keith turned to the watching woman and gave them a thumbs-up through the window. Anna then seemed to ask a question and Sam knelt down to talk to her but then she burst into tears and Sam stood up, looking confused. The whole party of five made their way down to the house and joined the others in the kitchen.

“Well, we’ve got ourselves two very willing little piggies!” Keith grinned, patting his own daughter on her denim-clad backside, “but a bit of an issue with the little one!”

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Rita knelt down and held out her arms to her youngest daughter who ran to her tearfully. “Are you going to miss you sister? Worried that it’s going to hurt? I promise Daddy will make sure she doesn’t feel very much pain at all!”

“No!” Anna replied through angry tears. “It’s not fair Becca gets to be meat and I don’t!”

“Oh!” Her mother wasn’t sure how to react. This was not an issue she had anticipated. She looked up at her husband who gave her an apologetic shrug, clearly as nonplussed as she was. “Maybe in a few years,” she began tentatively, “we could think about…”

“NO!” snapped Anna, furious now that her wishes were not being taken seriously. “If I don’t get eaten, Becca doesn’t get eaten!” She glared at her mother.

“Here’s an idea!” Melissa suggested. “You weren’t going to butcher the pig until tomorrow anyway, right?” She looked at her dad who nodded, “So you don’t need to do the girls tonight either. Why don’t you three stay for dinner,” she indicated Keith, Brenda and Sophie, “and we can have Anna tonight? Roast her like a chicken! Would be a nice send-off for the piggies, right? And Anna gets her wish too!” Rita looked a little uncertain at her eldest daughter’s suggestion but little Anna visibly brightened.

“Would you like that?” She asked her little daughter. “To be cooked like a chicken for dinner tonight?” Anna nodded very enthusiastically. “Well what does everyone else think?” She looked around the group a little desperately but all she saw was a sea of happy faces, already apparently imagining the little blonde stuffed, trussed up and in the oven turning a delicious golden brown. “I guess that’s decided then!” She glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. “If she’s going to be cooked in time for dinner, you’d better… you know, pretty quickly.” She set Anna down on the floor who ran first to her big sister, giving her a massive hug, then to her dad.

“Come on!” She grinned up at him, grabbing his hand and trying to pull him out the door towards the barn where she knew he kept the block and axe for cutting the heads off the chickens and geese they occasionally ate for dinner.

“Okay, okay!” Sam chuckled, kneeling down. “We need to get you undressed first. Don’t want your nice clothes to get all bloody!”

“I’ll be in the other room.” Rita informed him. “You guys do what you need to do. I’m happy to do the cooking but I don’t want to see the… other stuff. Just bring me a prepared carcass and I’ll do the rest.” She left, followed by Brenda and the two six year olds but Melissa stayed behind, apparently eager to watch. Sam thought for a moment about asking Keith to do the deed but decided he owed it to his little daughter to kill her himself.

Quickly, as if he were getting her ready for the bath as he had done so many times before, he helped the little girl off with her clothes. He knew she really needed washing but decided that would be easy to do once she was dead, especially as she seemed so eager to get on with it! Holding her hand, Sam led his naked daughter out the kitchen and across the lawn to the barn, followed close behind by his eldest daughter.

Once in the barn, Anna ran straight for the chopping block and knelt in front of it with her delicate young next exposed. Sam took off his shit and put on the leather apron he always wore when butchering any animal and advised Melissa to stand well back, out of the splatter-zone as he put it.

“Are you sure about this, darling?” He asked Anna. “You know you don’t have to…”

“Hurry up and cut my head off so Mummy can cook me!” Anna insisted slightly angrily before adjusting her attitude and grinning endearingly up at him. “I love you, Daddy!” She sent him an air-kiss.

“I love you too, pumpkin. Now close your eyes.” Anna did as she was told. With a deep breath, Sam raised the axe above his head, determined to make a clean cut and not let his little daughter suffer, then brought it down with a thud, neatly severing her pretty blonde head from her body. The head fell onto the ground and rolled a little while her body, blood spurting from the neck onto the surrounding straw, reared up for a moment before falling backwards. Anna’s cute little face looked surprised for a few moments, then confused, then finally peaceful as she stopped blinking and the light in her big green eyes went out.

Wasting no time, while his teenage daughter watched, fascinated, Sam hoisted up Anna’s headless body and hung it by the ankle from a meat-hook. He then took a filleting knife and slit her little round belly open from groin to chest and allowed her innards, intestines and other viscera to fall out, using the knife to free whatever remained attached. He then took a hose, uncoiled it and, using a narrow, high-pressure spray, cleaned the carcass inside and out. Finally, after kicking the bloody straw aside and putting down some fresh, he took the body that had once been Anna down and used the block and axe once more to remove her hands and feet. Even Melissa had to admit it was hard to recognise her sister in what appeared to be nothing more than a gutted piglet or plucked chicken. One thing she was very certain about, however, was that she was very much looking forward to dinner that evening!

Today, February 15th, the world celebrates the World's First Computer day, so let's not forget all the incredible technology that came a long way since then and lets us today have computing power in our pockets that people back then could not imagine, so that we can now throw birds at pigs and share our fantasies of little girls happily dying. Or not little, or not girls, or not happily, or sometimes not even necessarily dying. But anyway instead of a dichotomic choice of either suppressing our fantasies and driving our psyche into stress or, God forbid, enact them in real life and hurt other people (don't to that at home… or like anywhere), we get to turn them into fiction for each other to enjoy, and thus instead of pain bring joy into the world. Isn't that wonderful?

And so to honor our authors we're holding this Guro Story of the Year 2019 event, hoping it'll become a standing annual tradition and maybe encourage writers to bestow even more great works on us.

Well then, without further ado, let's get to what you're all interested about: the results.

10th place
goes to Andrew Dax Field with Family Massacre >>19262 (1 vote) and Family Purged >>16639 (2 votes)
Don't get discouraged though, remember that having a place at all means you were at least nominated. Because some of us didn't. So even if you're last, you're last among the first, and that's not that bad, you're still among the first. Look, you even got into the top ten!

9th place
goes to JestInPieces & PogueMahone with Quiet Confidence >>16524 (4 votes)
who get their place among the best with quiet confidence

8th place
goes to Greg Thomas with Sarah's Epic Life >>17224 (5 votes)
a close contender with the previous entry which only got ahead of it in the last couple of day in what can be described as an epic move

7th place
is shared among
The Friendly Demon with A Demon's Rise >>18056 (6 votes)
'Ellen with a series of Harry Potter themed stories >>18513 (6 votes)
and
Ellen again with Just a Job 2 >>17316 (votes)
One of these is not like the rest, isn't it?
If only an author could be nominated with all of their stories as a single entry which didn't have to compete with each other, you know, almost if they were just different aspects of the same person, maybe revealed with some kind of a serum? Not pointing at ednyone in wardticular, just hydepothesizing.
Anyway, by rising onto the same height these works do an important job of letting all of 13 nominees to get into the top 10. What is this, some kind of wizardry?

6th place
goes to Bloodlust with Julie's Jurassic Adventure >>17940 (10 votes)
Just the right kind of sick.

5th place
goes to Dark Monster Town with Dark Monster Town >>15654 (11 votes)
Just in case you didn't catch on it, it's a story about a dark monster town.

4th place
goes to NoPantsRelationship with Xan and Xandria's Snuffing >>15539 (14 votes)
My personal favorite, and I say that about a story with furry and futa which are both things I'd rather avoid, but if you can't help loving something even when you would normally hate it, you know it must be really good stuff. If you somehow missed it, or purposefully avoided it because it had furry and futa, I highly recommend to give this another chance. There's just nothing quite like it.

3rd place
goes to Squunch with Death Factory >>15761 (16 votes)
And here we finally got to the top three, opening with an author who claims to never have done creative writing before and then just went and generated a wall of text which got the third place in this vote. What would then happen once they get some practice?

2nd place
goes to Stillwater with A Rope and Camera and First cut >>17800 (22 votes)
And this is the point where you read about the second place, but think about the first, because by process of elimination you already figured it out, though really you knew it from the beginning, because could that be any doubt that the

1st place
goes to Edward Hyde with a series of stories in the Sidney universe >>19671 (26 votes)
Well, what can be said about those, you have most certainly read them yourself, and that's why you voted for them, but there were so many, that maybe you missed some, so this is your reminder to check those out too. Really, it's almost a cheat to have this many stories (there's actually so many I won't even bother to count) as a single entry, but they do belong to the same universe, and he did write them all within the 2019, and not really just within the 2019, but just within the last months of it, with absolutely crazy productivity, which somehow didn't have any negative effect on the quality of the stories. So cheaty as it may seem, he totally deserves this fine goblet made of human skull, which was taken from a healthy male specimen of about forty years, cleanly decapitated with a tram, marking Edward Hyde as the winner of Guro Story of the Year 2019. Congratulations!

The sound of approaching heels growing louder triggered Brian to look up towards the entrance to the room. In stepped an adorable, petite, young, freckled redhead.

"Hey Ash!" greeted Brian cheerfully. "Thanks for coming down!"

"There you are Brian!" replied Ashley with much relief. "Wow, this place is so massive I thought for sure I'd get lost!"

"You know I wouldn't let that happen to you Ash!" reassured Brian.

"Oh you're always such a good friend Brian!" Ashley replied sweetly, giving him a short, gentle touch on his shoulder.

"Oh.. yeah.." awkwardly replied Brian, a bit fazed by Ashley's response. He smiles and look at her nervously - smitten with her beauty.

Medium-length red hair with slight curls, the back worn in a loose ponytail. Bluish-green eyes. Creamy pale skin. Perky, B-cup size breasts. She wears a short-sleeve, black T-shirt with a small amount of white polka dots, and a plaid mini-skirt with a red background. She wears black, shiny high-heeled boots that are ankle-high.

Adorable. The epitome of the girl-next-door.

An awkward beat goes by as Ashley waits for Brian to continue the conversation, but he never does. Ashley lets out a short nervous laugh to break the silence and asks, "So… you need my picture taken?"

Brian snaps back to reality to respond, "Oh yes! Corporate policy requires us to take photos of all our sub- er, volunteers. Both for company records and for your ID badge so you can access the lab levels where the experimental procedure will be taking place tomorrow."

The words "experimental procedure" prompted Ashley to take a nervous deep breath, exhale, and then reply, "And you're sure this 'experimental procedure' is safe?"

Brian did not hesitate this time. "Oh yes of course!!" he replied reassuringly, "This place is so high tech! There's safeguards and lock-outs for everything! I've never seen or heard of any incidents here since I've been here - safety is a top priority!" Brian genuinely seemed to believe this. "It'll just be like taking a nice, massaging shower! Should be quite pleasant actually!"

Ashley put on a smile and gave a short laugh at Brian's enthusiasm. "Okay okay, you sold me!" she replied, "Anything to get rid of these damn freckles!"

"If you say so Ash!" Brian replied, "I think they make you look gorgeous!"

"Aww you're so sweet!" said Ashley in a friendly tone, "But I've always hated these things since I was a kid! Plus there's this guy at the gym that's really hot, but I heard a rumor isn't into freckles so…" she trailed off.

"Oh, right.." replied Brian with an embarrassed laugh. After another awkward beat, Brian said, "Well let's get this picture taken shall we?"

"You got it boss!" replied Ashley playfully.

Brian directed Ashley to stand on a mark in front of a solid-white, lit backdrop. Standard photography equipment surrounds the space.

Ashley does some playful poses and makes some faces. Brian laughs along at first, then tells her that they have to follow specific guidelines for the photo. He directs her to stand straight at attention and look right at the camera.

"OK you can smile, just no teeth!", directs Brian. Ashley puts on a demure smile. Brian snaps a shot and a flash of light fills the air.

- - - - -

The next day.

Brian and his colleague Kevin are prepping the test chamber for the experimental procedure.

Kevin sits at a terminal, typing various commands. He pulls up the photo of Ashley. Above her photo reads "Subject A778". Always the scientist, Kevin asked, "So you have a former personal relationship with today's specimen?"

Brian scoffs at Kevin's question, "Yes I know today's 'specimen'", adding sarcastic emphasis, "Her name is Ashley Ryan and she's a lovely human being!"

Kevin is not fazed by this. "You are clearly trying to mate with this specimen. I think it's highly inadvisable to form any social bond with our test subjects. I also think it's especially inadvisable to suggest they volunteer themselves for such experimental procedures. There is a reason our Subject Acquisition Department exists after all."

"I'm just trying to help the girl out! She's always hated her freckles, and when I let it slip about the procedure, she got so excited and wouldn't stop asking me about it. And besides, you're acting like there's any danger. I haven't heard of any fatalities happening here, even to our test subjects. We're just giving the girl a damn shower!"

Kevin paused before responding under his breath, "…you clearly haven't worked here long enough."

Not quite certain what Kevin said, Brian starts to respond but is cut off by a knock on the door.

Brian goes to answer it. Upon opening the door he is greeted by the sight of lovely sight of the day's test specimen, Ashley Ryan. Today she wears a light-blue, revealing V-neck blouse with a black pencil skirt, as well as the same boots from the previous day. She wears her ID badge affixed to her blouse above one of her breasts - her face and demure smile staring straight ahead of the badge.

"Hey Bri!" says Ashley, moving in for a nice, platonic hug.

"Hey Ash! Welcome to the lab!" warmly greets Brian, returning the soft hug and releasing, "Ready for your big day?"

Ashley takes a deep breath, releases, and replies, "I think so!" She surveys the room. Several high-tech mainframes and computer terminals line the walls. In the center of the room stands a glass cylindrical shower stall. About 2 meters above the floor of the stall hangs a high-tech looking shower-head with some extra gizmos affixed to and around it. It's angled down and towards the center of the stall. A normal-looking drain sits in the center of the floor of the stall. Several small cameras surround the stall at various angles. "So this is it, huh?"

"Yep, this is where the magic happens!" Brian jovially responds.

Kevin lets out an intentional cough to interrupt, "Can we please proceed with our checklist? I believe a photo of the subject is in order."

Ashley let's out a small laugh of disbelief, having just been referred to as "the subject". Brian excuses his colleagues behavior, "Don't mind Kevin, Ash, he woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Step over here and I'll get your photo one more time."

Brian has Ashley step in front of a small, blank section of the wall, while Kevin moves to another terminal across the room and starts entering calibration settings.

As Brian preps the camera, Ashley whispers, "You're co-worker seems really uptight."

Brian raises the camera and lets out a laugh and jokes, "Yeah he's definitely got a stick up his ass."

This sets Ashley off, letting out a hearty laugh.

Kevin momentarily takes his eyes off the screen to look over at the source of the interruption, and sees the specimen briefly making eye contact with him while producing audible contractions from its diaphragm that only served to annoy him. Returning to his work, he finishes loading the calibration settings for the shower-head emitter.

Brian snaps a shot as Ashley's laugh calms down and she turns back toward the camera. Teeth showing, but "no big deal" he thinks and doubts he would face any punishment for such a mild thing.

Ashley upon realizing Brian took the shot says, "No I hate how I look when I'm laughing! My nostrils-"

Kevin interrupted, "If the subject would please disrobe and step into the stall - we are on a strict schedule and are quite ready to begin."

Before Brian can retort for his colleague's behavior, Ashley responds "Oh, uh, okay. Is there somewhere I can change?"

Brian starts to answer, "Oh, well, yeah you can use the-"

Kevin interrupts again, "That would be a waste of time. All specimens are nude during the procedure, so there is no point in disrobing elsewhere. We're not here to ogle, we're here for science."

Ashley hesitates for a moment, perhaps waiting for Brian to speak up for her. He doesn't. She replies with some unease, "Oh, I suppose you're right."

The specimen begins to disrobe as instructed.

Ashley takes off her new ID badge first.

Ashley sits on a nearby stool and bends up one leg at a time to unzip and remove each of her shiny, high-heel boots - leaving her in her bare feet.

"Don't sniff those!" Ashley jokes at Brian. He laughs nervously in response.

She unzips her pencil skirt, pulls it down her lithe legs, and gently steps out using her nimble tip-toes, and folds it. Her nether regions covered by black no-show panties.

The specimen unbuttons the blue fabric draped across its upper torso. Using its prehensile appendages, the subject pulls the fabric off the back of its torso and down and off of its upper limbs. Two mammary glands appear, supported and covered by a black undergarment.

Ashley, now in her bra and panties, starts to turn around but then realizes the futility in doing so. Taking another deep breath, she ignores her inhibitions and proceeds undressing with confidence.

She reaches around back and unclasps her bra, then lowers it off her shoulders without hesitation, letting her two B-cup size breasts breath with a gentle wiggle.

She then pulls down her black panties down her legs, and gently steps out. "Please make sure my clothes are taken care of!" Ashley politely requests while folding them in a neat pile. She then pulls her hair-band off and shakes her head to let her red curls flow.

The specimen is now fully disrobed. Kevin instructs the subject, "Now step inside the chamber."

Ashley dutifully starts walking over to the stall's opening. Brian can't help but take a long glance to admire her buck naked, nubile, young figure. A part of him always wanted to see her naked. She certainly did work out.

As she grabs the edge of the stall and takes a step in, she catches Brian checking her out. She playfully flirts, "I hope this wasn't all just for you to see me naked, Brian!"

Kevin rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh while Brian stammers. "Can we please just get on with it?" complains Kevin.

"Here goes nothing!" says Ashley as she fully steps in the shower stall. Brian seals the transparent stall hatch shut behind her.

Brian gives her a thumbs up. Ashley gives one back with a jokingly military seriousness in her expression, then laughing and taking her place in the center of the shower stall, directly underneath the emitter pointed at her head, and directly above the drain.

Brian takes a seat at his terminal - the file on subject A778 loaded up with Ashley's ID photo along with her vitals. He can't help but stare at her cute face, smitten with her beauty. Kevin states, "Please confirm correct calibration parameters are loaded."

Brian takes a quick glance at the calibration parameters window next to Ashley's photo, then looks back at his naked friend in the glass tube in front of him. Noticing his look, she gives him a smile and a wave.

Brian waves back. "Calibration parameters confirmed," he responds to Kevin.

Kevin declares, "Then we're ready to begin. Please instruct the test subject to assume the correct position for application."

Brian holds down a button and speaks into a mic hooked into his terminal. "OK Ash, here we go! Now just angle your head up and face the shower-head, and close your eyes! It should be quite comfortable!"

Ashley nods, shakes out her nerves one last time, and does exactly as Brian instructed. Eyes closed and head angled up, a slight smirk crossed her lips. Brian thought her expression was statuesque.

Kevin declares, "Commencing startup."

A soft but distinct hum fills the air, rapidly growing in volume and pitch.

Inside the stall, Ashley keeps her pose as instructed, her heart racing faster with every second.

The hum finally starts to plateau as Kevin counts down. "Five… Four… Three…"

Unable to hear the countdown, Ashley waits patiently for the "application" of the solution. She hears the rush of water coming from the shower-head - along with another, unfamiliar, and a little scary sound. Holding her statue-like pose on her face as best she can, she gulps, and internally braces for impact.

"Two…"

Brian watches Ashley eagerly.

"One…"

Kevin keeps his eyes on his terminal.

"Firing."

There suddenly was a bright flash of light emanating from the shower-head, accompanied by the sound of a loud FWOOSH.

"That doesn't sound right…" mutters Kevin.

In the stall, a beam of blinding, blurry light blasts out from the emitter, striking the face of the specimen directly below.

Upon impact, the specimen's face begins to pulverize. Rapidly.

Having been patiently keeping her eyes shut, Ashley had no idea why she suddenly felt the most intense pain she ever felt.

A image pops up on both Brian and Kevin's terminals - from the cameras set to automatically record the procedure - showing the moment of impact in real-time.

A close-up of Ashley's head shows a blurry mess of talc-like powder, clearly vibrating, in place of her adorable face there a moment ago.

Her innocent, blue-green eyes. Her petite, cute nose. Her adorable, smirking lips. Her sexy, thin, orange-red eyebrows. And of course her freckles. All replaced by a mess of powder vibrating in-and-out of her face-hole violently and rapidly.

The powder from the specimen's face is mostly flesh colored, with hints of the darker colors of the specimen's concentrated melaninized cells.

The colors of her blue-green eyes, red lips, and orange-red eyebrows take color on the vibrating powder in their respective locations.

While only for a flash of a moment, the pain Ashley feels urges her to scream out of her pulverized lips - but the merciful beam of death quickly blasts thru the rest of her head, skull and brain with ease, putting a swift end to her consciousness. Her orange-red hair obligated against the wall of the stall in powdered form for a moment before being washed off by the accompanying water.

Before Brian or Kevin has a chance to react to the sudden chaos happening in the stall, a loud but dull THUD is heard as Ashley's headless body falls forward onto the glass in front. Luckily her breasts cushion the fall, getting smashed against the glass by the full (but rapidly diminishing) weight of her upper torso behind them. The sight of tits-on-glass would usually turn Brian on - but the horror of them being attached to his headless, disintegrating friend put a hold on those thoughts.

Finally having had enough time to react, Brian shouts, "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Kevin curiously states to himself, "Well this is an interesting development."

The beam had no problem keeping track of the specimen as it moved to its new position and continued its program of organic pulverization down the remaining material of homo sapiens it its path below.

The forces of gravity start bringing her body sliding down against the glass. A sickening SQUEAK emanates from her tits dragging down the glass. Her nipples rise above the rest of her breasts behind her as her body wants to continue collapsing, but the friction is slowing down the effort. Her powdered form showers down her yet-do-be-powdered nubile form.

Upon pulverization of the specimen's shoulders, the upper limbs disconnect from the subject's diminishing torso.

Her arms, having been flung back behind her upon falling against the glass, now fall to the floor of the stall between her two awkwardly collapsing legs, bending inward while trying to support the weight of her remaining upper body.

Brian reaches for the ABORT switch and flips it. A message pops up on his terminal saying "ABORT REQUEST DENIED".

"Why the fuck isn't it aborting?!" shouts Brian.

Kevin coldly questions "Company policy, you should know that. Once vital signs of a specimen cease, any experiment in progress must be carried through to the end for maximum data collection."

Brian starts to tear up at the news, now at a loss of words. He looks at his disintegrating friend in the stall. The friend he got to volunteer for this very safe procedure. Just in time to see the beam blasting through her tits.

The beam pulverizes the specimen's higher mammary gland first, then the following one immediately after. The cameras snap several close-up shots of the event as it occurs.

The beam ravages its way down to Ashley's toned waist - her belly button now being flattened against the glass before being erased. Below, her feet continue to spread apart, both angled awkwardly inward, with both heels raised. Her knees bend inward towards each other with some space between. One ass cheek higher than the other.

Kevin comments to himself, "Wow it really is efficient!"

Multi-colored Ashley powder showers down around her remaining body with hints of red, flesh and freckle. Water also showers down across her remaining body - helping to wash the powder sitting on the floor of the stall down the drain.

Brian can do nothing but continue to helplessly watch his crush break apart in front of him. Why did he convince this poor girl to sign up for this?! What the hell happened?!

"All this high tech gear but they didn't think to have a remote control valve for the drain!" notes Kevin as he notices the sloppy failure of specimen material retention as more of the powdered redhead swirls down the drain. "What a waste of potential data analysis."

The beam continues its ruthless assault thru poor Ashley, having no pity on her scrumptious, sculpted, perfect ass as it ravages through one cheek and the other.

Her trimmed pussy, which would once tingle at the thought of the guy at the gym that wasn't into freckles, is no survivor among the beam's devastation, as it gets pulverized into a thin strip of powdered Ash-snatch.

Only Ash's disembodied legs and fallen arms remain. Her thighs smack together for a moment before each bending back to smack against her two calves, each leg collapsing to the ground entirely.

The beam makes short work of the specimen's remaining limbs. Including all her individual nimble fingers and all her adorable toes.

Finally there is no more human matter present in the target zone left to pulverize - so the beam shuts down.

The water continues until a sensor detects that the stall is fully clean of all particles.

The remaining bits of powdered redhead pours down the drain - whether last in was a bit of wrist or the tip of big toe, or maybe even a lone freckle, no one can be sure. But it all went to the same place - NanoTek's ultra efficient sewage filtration system. After several rounds of incineration and disintegration to remove any trace of DNA, every particle of the doomed volunteer gets filtered through a set of multiple water tanks, branched apart and drained off into long-distance sewer pipes running from the complex to remote regions in all directions. Every trace of her is widely dispersed through the sewage system and eventually back into far reaching parts of the earth and its atmosphere.

Ashley Ryan has been fully and utterly pulverized and erased from existence, at 14:36 on a Friday afternoon at NanoTek Corp.

Brian can do nothing but stare at the empty and clean stall, where the girl of his dreams stepped in, but never stepped out.

Always the scientist, Kevin continues his work with no strong emotion whatsoever concerning the loss of a test subject - just a curiosity at the unexpected turn of events.

Looking over the calibration settings, he spots the error almost immediately. "Ah now here's the problem! This decimal point should have over three places to the left." Kevin punches in a few quick commands, and strikes Enter like a music conductor. "Fixed!" exclaims Kevin with a glee not yet heard today.

Brian fumes at this news. "…Are you kidding me?? She's dead because you put a decimal in the wrong place?!"

Kevin retorts, "Hey I asked you to check it, but I guess you were too distracted by the looks of the test subject. Besides, I'm only human."

Brian storms out.

Kevin notices the specimen's garments, footwear, and ID badge sitting in the corner. With an annoyed sigh, he walks over to pile, grabs them, takes one last look of the face of the former specimen, and tosses it all in a hatch leading directly into an incinerator, and proceeding onto NanoTek's ultra efficient sewage filtration system.

Kevin looks at the empty stall and sighs wistfully this time. "Would've been nice to have some powdered redhead to analyze…"

- - - - -

Subject Name: Ashley Ryan
Specimen: A778
Age: 20
Position: Volunteer
Current Status: Unknown (Subject in powder form most likely disintegrated by NanoTek sewage filtration system)
Est. Chance of Recovery: 0%
Conclusion(s):
-Side effect of pulverization warrants further study.
-Suggest further testing using similar calibration settings and specimens.
-Suggest addition of remote control valve for drain.
-Suggest addition of tank below drain to capture specimen material for further analysis.
-Tech Brian [REDACTED] terminated per security protocol HB72-Alpha
-Recommend promotion of Tech Kevin [REDACTED] for actions leading to further science gathering.

-Reduction of subject's freckles successful*

Since I have several short stories to share, I prefer to create a single thread. There will be a lot of stabbing, some shooting and strangling. Non-cons, female victims (not pre-teens), usually realistic. Rape sometimes, depends on the story. No cannibalism, crushing or extreme torture, they are not for me.

I hope you like my story, please skip over grammatical errors, I'm not english. However, advice on language and writing is welcome.

I prefer skip tag on the single stories to keep a little surprise (if you prefer otherwise, let me know)

Stories coming up!

Actually, the previous poll is still accessible, but since it ignored the nominations and made you look up the post number of the story you wanted to vote for (and I feel like many wouldn't bother or might get it wrong) and didn't use the proposed 3 points system, I made this new one.

The nominees are:

Death Factory by Squunch >>15761
Has many chapters long enough to be considered their own stories, and I haven't read it to tell how much they are connected to each other, but since all of them are parts of one story AND all of it were written within 2019, it qualifies as a single entry.

All of Edward Hyde within the year 2019 >>19671
Most of his stories happen in the same universe, which kiiinda can be counted as long chapters in a crazy long multi-chapter story and thus qualify as a single entry along with the Death Factory above. I mean, what can I do if he was just nominated as Edward Hyde?

Xan and Xandria's Snuffing by NoPantsRelationship >>15539
This is a part of a long multi-chapter story with each chapter basically being its own story, so you might wonder why doesn't it count the whole series as a single entry as above. The logic is simple: Club Meat Grinder was not written all within the year 2019.

A Rope and Camera and First cut by Stillwater >>17800
Count as one entry because they're chapters in a multi-chapter story and were both written within 2019.

Family Purged by Andrew Dax Fields >>16639
Family Massacre by Andrew Dax Fields >>19262
Count as two entries because not chapters of a multi-chapter story, I guess. Well, they're share a theme, but not a universe, so… well, really, this is just the way they were nominated.

Julie's Jurassic Adventure by Bloodlust >>17940

Just a Job 2 by Ellen >>17316
Harry Potter themed series by Ellen >>18513
Perhaps the first entry should include the first part of Just a Job, seeing how it was written withing the 2019?

Quiet Confidence by JestInPieces & PogueMahone >>16524

A Demon's Rise by The Friendly Demon >>18056

Sarah's Epic Life by Greg Thomas >>17224

Dark Monster Town by Dark Monster Town >>15654

And here's the new form for voting
https://forms.gle/AnuiWM1LFUXM6nKZ7
(It's google forms' official link shortener)

Now, for how long should we collect the votes until declaring the results? Or just see how it goes?

This is a story I began last year but never finished. Thanks to a helpful reader I've been able to recover the first part and now mean to finish it. Part 1 consists of everything previously published and my new installments pick up with Part 2 :-)

“My name is Mackenzie Chastain.” The white-haired Southern granny spoke directly into the camera, sat on a sofa with a small television and assorted pictures of children of various ages on the wall in the background. “I am a mother, a grandmother and, as of last week, a great-grandmother. And I am a liar.” She paused to let these words sink in for the viewing public. “For the past years I have helped to deceive America and the entire world, and to cover up a terrible wrong. As the only person left alive who knows the truth, I owe to to my children and grandchildren, as well as all those poor girls, to tell the truth.”

“History records that Sidney Roebuck, youngest daughter of billionaire business mogul Orin Roebuck, was slaughtered and butchered for her meat on 15th August 2022, following her successful campaign and legal battle.” A deep-voiced commentator announced over photographs and video stills of a happy, smiling little girl dressed in nothing but a cowboy hat and boots. “In the years since, the restaurant chain founded in her name has become one of the most successful food businesses in history, recently surpassing McDonalds in like-for-like annual turnover. Laws all around the world have been altered to allow the killing and consumption of girls and young women, with millions slaughtered for food every year. Yet is this vast empire and cultural renaissance all based on a lie? And worse still, a murder? Keep watching as we find out on ‘Sidney Roebuck – Visionary or Victim?’”

In the fourteen hours since the documentary had aired, it felt like the entire food industry had been in damage-limitation mode, and none more so than the chain at the heart of the controversy, Sidney’s, now owned and managed by Sidney Roebuck’s eldest neice, Ellie-May Boswell-Roebuck. Over the years there had of course been questions asked about how much of Sidney’s campaign had been her own idea and whether pressure had been put on her but her famously greedy and ambitious father. Like any young girl who came up with a world-changing idea and dared to challenge the status-quo there were those who sought to paint her as a victim, a mere puppet of manipulative adults. As it had been for Greta Thunberg, so it was for Sidney Roebuck.

Every so often there would be a think-piece article, TV movie, documentary or mass-market paperback that caused people to take pause and think about the girl who had effectively changed the eating habits of the entire world. Perhaps there would be a slump in business for those who traded in girl-meat for a week or two but very soon the questions would be forgotten and everything would go back to normal. Nobody had any reason to suppose that the documentary to be shown on Public Broadcasting channels simultaneously all over the world would cause any more than a ripple, despite the typically grandiose claims of the producers. Nobody had been prepared for the explosive claims made by the show or the public response following it.

Ellie-May Boswell-Roebuck sat in her office with her lawyer, her husband and two closest advisors, watching for the fifth time, trying to find some weak link in the story, some angle they had not yet thought of to debunk the claims. She cursed her father for dying and leaving her to sort out this mess. If it were true, he could have left her a confession to be opened after he was gone and therefore no longer liable for anything it revealed. At least then she’d have been able to prepare, to work out a strategy for if this ever came out. As it was, she had been as blind-sided by the claims as everyone else.

The commentator summarised the well-known story of Sidney Roebuck, the feisty young girl who had won over the hearts and stomachs of America and turned everyone on to the idea of girls as meat. How her legacy had spread to first to Europe then to the east until every civilised nation of the world had accepted the idea of eating girls to one extent or another.

“Tonight,” the voice announced dramatically, “a woman who has kept her council for over six decades breaks her silence and reveals to us the truth about the first girl eaten in America!”

“My birth name,” the Southern granny spoke to the camera again, clearly nervous but convinced of the rightness of her actions, “is Sidney Dorothy Roebuck. I am the youngest daughter of the late Orin Roebuck and it is after me that the world-wide chain of restaurants is named.”

Ellie-May rested her elbow on the desk and her throbbing forehead in her hand. Why did this old lady have to sound so damned plausible? Even if she could be proved to be talking out of her ass, there would still be a huge section of the audience who would believe her just because of how she was and there was no way she and her multi-national, billion-dollar corporation could go after and seek to discredit a sweet old lady without totally coming across as the bad guys, whatever the final outcome.

“It’s true that I campaigned for the right to be eaten,” the granny continued, “that was totally on me. There was nobody forcing me or pulling my strings like some have claimed.” A tiny mercy, thought Ellie-May. “I was utterly convinced of the rightness of my quest and so grateful for my Daddy’s support, right up until the night before the deed was due to be done, the eve of my twelfth birthday.”

They were coming up to the part Ellie-May really hated. Despite her anger, what the old lady said next always moved her to tears, a fact which only made her more angry, as much with herself as with those behind the documentary.

“As I lay in my bed that night, I thought about all the things I would never get to do, the places I would never see, the husband and children I would never have. Around, oh I suppose it would have been maybe ten-thirty or eleven at night, way past my bedtime anyway but I remember my Daddy was still up in his study, I went and told him I’d changed my mind.”

“How did he take the news?” An unseen interviewer asked from behind the camera. The old lady smiled weakly before replying.

“He said I was letting everyone down. That he had put so much into my campaign because it was what I insisted I wanted and now here I was throwing it all away. He told me he’d already applied for permits and lobbied politicians to be allowed to start a chain of restaurants in my name where girls like me could volunteer to be cooked. He was convinced that it was going to more than double his fortune and told me how selfish I was being for trying to to take that away. If I remember correctly,” she continued, “that’s when I started to cry and he hugged me tight and felt like my sweet Daddy again. He told me of course I didn’t have to be killed and eaten if I didn’t want to and that he would sort it out but, tomorrow, I would still have to pretend. He said to trust him and go along with whatever happened once the butcher arrived. He said we’d have to let the world think that I’d been eaten and that I would have to go away, have a new name with new parents that he would find for me. This made me sad again, but he promised to come visit me often and, since my only other choice seemed to be getting cooked and eaten for real, I agreed.”

The old lady looked into the camera with tears in her eyes.

“If I had known what a monster my Daddy really was or what he had planned, I would never have agreed. But you have to remember, I was just a frightened little girl and when he told me that everything was going to be okay, I believed him.”

“We can fast-forward through this next bit.” Ellie-May picked up the remote but her lawyer put out a cautious hand to stop her.

“I think we need to watch it all.” He insisted in a voice that was kind but firm. “If there are any holes in her story, this is where we’re going to find them.”

Knowing that he was right, Ellie-May set down the remote and braced herself to continue watching.

“The next morning came and I gave my speeches to the press as expected of me.” The old lady on the screen continued. “Of course I wore next to nothing, I had honestly stopped caring about that sort of thing by then, even ‘though I had changed my mind about being eaten. There were photographs of me shaking hands with the butcher, checking the recipes all those famous chefs had lined up for my meat, that sort of thing.”

As she spoke, the press photos she spoke of were flashed up on the screen. Ellie-May was very familiar with them of course. Some were even displayed in the very office where she was sat watching the recording.

“The press were even allowed into the room where I was going to be killed.” She looked away from the camera as if feeling too guilty to meet the eye of the viewer. “I had no idea how my Daddy was going to get me out of this, but I trusted him like he told me to. It was then that the specially invited guests came in and I realised. God forgive me I should have put a stop to it all right then and there, or at least gone through with my promise, but you have to remember I was just a frightened little girl.”

There was that expression again, the words that could not help but tug at the heartstrings and conscience of anyone listening. Even if the old lady were speaking off the cuff and not following a script, Ellie-May knew, there was no way she had not been primed with that phrase, fed it by publicists and media-savvy supporters. It was just too perfect.

“I only learned afterwards exactly what had been said.” She spoke softly. “Into the room came my Daddy, his two closest advisors, my oldest brother who was being groomed to take over the company,” This made Ellie-May sick to her stomach. That was her father being spoken of there. From what she had heard within the family, she was frankly prepared to believe anything of her grandfather but her father was a different matter. He had never presented to her a side that was anything other than kind, compassionate, fair and, above all, honest. If he really had been complicit in such a vile deception, then there truly was nothing left in the world she could believe in. “And last of all, my Daddy’s secretary and her daughter. She’d been told she was coming to be a witness as a special treat but really my Daddy had paid her mother three million dollars for her to take my place.” Press photographs from the time were shown on the screen with a red circle drawing the viewer’s attention to a little girl with more than a passing resemblance to Sidney Roebuck standing in front of a woman who was embracing her protectively, a nervous look on her face.

“Some final photographs were taken then the press were all sent out of the room. My Daddy told them I deserved some privacy in my final moments and that they’d be welcome to come back in in a few minutes and photograph the meat. Now as soon as they left, the secretary lady started crying and pushed her little girl forward, saying she was sorry. One of the men grabbed her and stuck a needle in her neck that made her go floppy. I’ll never forget the look in her eyes. That mix of fear and betrayal. She was stripped and my Daddy told me to put on her clothes. We were about the same size and she was a dancer so my body and hers looked pretty much alike. I did as I was told then watched that poor little girl being cut up by the butcher in my place.”

“What happened after that?” the unseen interviewer asked.

“My brother led me and the girl’s mom out a back door where two cars were waiting.” The old lady explained, “I didn’t dare to look at her. I hear the next day that little girl was reported as a run-away. I was taken to a foster home and given a new name with false papers and around six months later I was adopted by a loving couple who both worked for my Daddy. They were wonderful parents and I never saw any of my real family again, despite my Daddy’s promises, nor did I care to. What I had seen that day told me that my family were monsters and I wanted nothing to do with them.”

“Do you have anything particular you want the viewers to know?” asked the interviewer.

“I do.” The old lady nodded resolutely. “The name of that poor little girl was Jessie Thornton. She did not run away from home, she was killed, cooked and eaten, helping my family to launch a global restaurant empire and, to my eternal shame, make people think that eating innocent little girls is both good and normal. Jessie, if you can hear me where you are, I am so so sorry. At the very least it should be your name above the door in lights, not mine.”

The lawyer turned down the volume and allowed the rest of the documentary to roll by quietly. They all knew that the next thirty minutes or so described the rise of the Sidney’s brand and the world-wide cultural changes it brought with it, questioning the morality of those changes if they were based on lies.

“So what have we got?” Ellie-May sat back in her chair and sighed, realising that she needed to approach this crisis as a business-woman rather than allow herself to become too emotionally entangled.

“Well, as you know,” the bespectacled lawyer explained, removing a slim folder from his briefcase, “the cyber attack of March 2038 erased all government records at Federal and State level. A fair amount has been possible to reconstruct from paper records held at local level but there are still a fair number of gaps. We have a death certificate for Sidney Roebuck.” He handed the facsimile document to Ellie-May who read with amusement that cause of death was listed as “Euthanasia with Consent.” How times had changed!

“Here is a birth certificate for a Jessica Thornton which seems to be dated to around the same time and, judging by company records, her mother was a Roebuck Inc. employee. Here’s a police report stating that she’s been reported as missing two days after the date on Sidney’s death certificate and it seems she was declared legally dead two years later when no trace of her had been found. I managed to find a few local news reports of a runaway and asking people to look out for her too but the story never got picked up by any national press.”

Ellie-May leafed through the printouts, photocopies and facsimiles with a rapidly sinking heard. So far, everything that had been claimed on the documentary was apparently backed by at least circumstantial evidence. It was not looking good.

“What about this Mackenzie Chastain?” she asked, any records on her?

“We have a record of a Mackenzie Hammond being in foster care and being adopted by Joel and Lousie Chastain, both Roebuck Inc. employees around the right time and a birth certificate with mother listed as Cindy Hammond and father unknown but no other records. No school, vaccinations, dental, nothing before her adoption. Although, as I said, that doesn’t really prove anything these days.”

“What about other people in the room?” the exhausted woman asked, knowing even as she did so that she was clutching at straws. Her father and grandfather were both dead and anyone who had been an adult at the time would be in their late eighties or early nineties at best!

“Well obviously Orin and Hank Roebuck are no longer with us.” The lawyer replied nervously. Ellie-May nodded for him to continue. “I’ve managed to trace the two aids mentioned. One, Arthur Turner, died five years ago and the other, Franklin Marco, passed away just last month in a care home in Florida.”

“Hmm, convenient timing, wouldn’t you say?” Ellie-May steepled her fingers together, resting her elbows on the desk, and raised an eyebrow. “Interesting at the very least. What about the mother? The one who supposedly got paid to give up her daughter?”

“Well that’s an interesting one.” The lawyer furrowed his brow. “Catherine Thornton was indeed your grandfather’s personal secretary and, as I said, there’s records of her daughter running away and being declared missing, but it seems she left her position just before Christmas that same year, moved out to the country claiming a modest lottery win, this is all in the transcript of her exit interview by the way,” he handed a double-sided typed page to her, “then according to Police reports she was found dead on the anniversary of Sidney’s death, apparently from a drug and alcohol overdose.”

“Accidental or suicide?” asked Ellie-May, a little coldly.

“The coroner said it was inconclusive.” He handed her a reproduction of the hand-written notes, the digital version having been lost in the attack. “But either way, it’s pretty damning.”

“Okay,” she sighed again, “has anyone spoken to the press yet?”

“No.” Her aid informed her. “We’ve been fielding calls all morning telling them to await a formal statement.”

“Good.” Ellie-May glanced at her watch. “Tell them I’ll hold a press conference at mid-day. Until then, keep everything on lockdown.”

“Oh shit, this really isn’t good!” Her husband was looking at his phone. “Apparently congress have put a temporary ban on the production and sale of girl-meat, pending an investigation, and governments around the world are following suite.”

“Crap!” Ellie-May massaged her aching temples. “Get onto the managers of every branch. Tell them to call the donors and tell them not to come in. What about supplies we already have?”

“Apparently private individuals can continue to consume any already-processed meat they have at home but no sale of any kind is permitted and no fresh slaughter or live-cooking.”

“That’s something at least.” She sighed. “We can weather a few weeks of this but its gonna put a load of smaller concerns out of business and that’s gonna be on us too. We need to get this sorted, and fast!”

“What the FUCK?!” The shout was so loud Cam Coleman was sure the windows of the LA penthouse rattled. “WHAT! THE ACTUAL! FUCK!” Trixie Coleman, eldest daughter of Cam Coleman, world-famous vlogger and excited future meat-girl stormed into the kitchen of the penthouse apartment which, by itself, was bigger than most people’s whole homes, and slammed her tablet down on the breakfast bar where her father was trying to enjoy a morning coffee. Cam couldn’t help but wince and offered up a silent prayer of thanks for the relatively recent innovation of shatter-proof phone and tablet screens.

“Something wrong, pumpkin?” he asked sweetly, trying to conceal both his amusement and irritation at his daughter’s histrionics. “You seem a little put out?” The award-winning British actor sipped his coffee.

“Haven’t you seen the news?” Trixie jabbed an angry figure against the tablet screen and he looked down, seeing that it was open on a news page. A video to the right was muted but the headlines were clear enough. He skimmed the rest of the story.

“Lucky we’re not in the girl-meat business, huh?” He chuckled. “This will all blow over in a month or two, these things always do.”

“A MONTH OR TWO?!” Trixie’s outraged shriek hurt his ears. He was sure every dog in a twenty-block radius must have started barking. “Un-fucking-acceptable!” The starlet snarled. “Or had you forgotten?”

“Forgotten what?” Cam asked. He had yet to make it half way down his first coffee of the morning and the list of things he’d forgotten could well be the length of an average screen-play! Besides, there wasn’t really a whole lot he needed to remember. That was one of the perks of being rich and famous – you had people to remember things for you!

“Your Golden Globes party?” The furious teen folded her arms across her extremely ample chest. “The promise you made?” When he continued to look blank she lunged forward, hands on the bar and her face inches from his. “I’m supposed to be cooking in less two fucking weeks! If this ban lasts more than a few days we’re gonna have to cancel and if THAT happens, Miss Trixie will not be happy!”

“Please don’t talk to me like I’m one of your groupies.” Cam sighed and set down his coffee. “Stuff like this never really comes to much and if it does, so what? Is your life so unbearable that you can’t endure it for another year?”

“Another YEAR?”

“Oh whatever it works out being.” He sighed again, scrolling back to the top of the article to read it again in detail. A thought occurred to him. “Have you posted anything about this yet?” He asked, “Any videos or comments or anything?”

“Yeah, I commented on the video and shared it. Why?” Her confusion seemed to calm her down just a little and she took a vacant stool at the bar.

“Oh well, too bad.” Cam took another sip of his coffee.

“Too bad? What are you talking about?”

“Well it’s just this caveat here.” He turned to tablet around so that she could read it and pointed to a particular line. “It says that it’s now illegal to sell girl-meat or kill any girl for food but, if private individuals have any they’re already purchased, they’re allowed to eat it up.”

“So what?” Trixie frowned. “I really don’t get it?”

Cam couldn’t help chuckle a little. He loved his daughter just as much as he loved his other two children and, while her approach was not exactly to his taste, he was proud of the way she had carved out a niche of fame for herself. Of course having famous parents had given her something of a leg-up but now there were legions of her followers only vaguely aware of him and his work, she was genuinely famous in her own right. Despite all this, however, she could be almost unbelievable dense at times!

“I was thinking we could get you killed today and in the deep freeze then bring you out to thaw for the party if you were so desperate to cook. But if you’ve posted that shows you were alive after the announcement was made and were aware of it so that’s whoever cuts your throat up for murder! Oh well.”

“Fuck…” Trixie muttered and kicked the metal leg of the breakfast bar half-heartedly. “Guess I wanna be live-cooked anyway and make a video of it. Not so much fun being bled-out and stuck in the freezer…”

“I guess we just have to wait and see how this plays out!” Cam put a comforting hand on Trixie’s shoulder. “Not a lot either of us can do about it either way.” He finished his coffee as the teen mulled this over. Suddenly, an idea occurred to her.

“But we can!” She turned and grinned her her dad, “We’re exactly the kinds of people who can do something about it!”

“Oh?” he turned and leant an elbow on the bar, intrigued by what she had to say. “How do you figure?”

“Well,” she leaned forward a little, excited to share her idea, “cannibalism got legalised in the first place because some girl with a rich daddy went on TV a lot, showed off her body and said she wanted to get eaten, right? Even if she did change her mind at the last minute which I call bullshit on anyway, it was still enough to convince people that eating girls was okay, right?”

“Mmhmm.” Cam nodded, feeling like he was going to need at least two more cups of coffee to handle this conversation.

“Well since then millions of girls have been eaten, right? And there’s got to be hundreds, if not thousands like me, waiting, who just got told we’re not allowed to be cooked! If I make a video, I bet I can get others to do the same! You get your celebrity friends on board with the campaign and we can have a whole protest! Imagine a thousand naked girls marching on Washington demanding the right to be eaten? It would definitely get some attention!”

“Can’t hurt to try, I suppose!” Cam chuckled. In all honesty, he was far from convinced by her plan but knew that his daughter was always calmer when she had a project of some kind to work on and was likely to be utterly insufferable if he flatly refused to help her campaign. He could certainly afford to throw a couple of million at it if it would make her happy. “News channels might pick up the video,” he reminded her, “better make it a good one! Who not go wake up your sister, if you didn’t wake her up along with everyone in LA a few minutes ago, and get her to help?”

“Thanks, Daddy!” She kissed him on the cheek. “You’re the best!” Before she was even out of the kitchen she began pulling off her t-shirt revealing her somewhat gravity-defying young breasts beneath. Breasts which would very soon be starring in another of her unsurprisingly popular videos.

At Sidney’s HQ, the pressure was continuing to mount. Not only were there multiple calls and emails from angry parents and meat-girls who had had their plans frustrated with multiple knock-on effects but hate-filled messages calling the whole company murderers and condemning them to Hell. Of course, being a business that routinely killed children and young women for meat, it was not utterly without precedent to be the subject of hate-mail from those who, for whatever reason, did not approve, but it had never, even in the early days, accounted for more than 40% of their entire correspondence as it did that morning.

The calls from the girls themselves who had been scheduled to cook either that day or in the near future were easy enough to field, with the workers on the phones explaining that they sympathised with their frustrations and hoped to get everything up and running again as usual very soon. Parents were a little trickier as they were bearing a financial burden – either in not receiving money for their daughter that they had been relying on or for having an unexpected mouth to feed beyond the date they had been informed would be their daughter’s last. There were even those who had needed to cancel holidays or scramble to book an extra ticket as their family would be larger on the travel date by at least one and in some cases two or three than had been assumed at the time of the booking. To these parents, assurances were made that some kind of financial compensation package would be arranged once there was a little more clarity on the ongoing situation.

The most heartbreaking were the calls from the small business owners – butchers and cafes mostly, stuck with inventory they were unable to sell, fears that said inventory would spoil before trade was allowed to commence again and bills to pay in the mean time. They had no direct connection to or dealings with Sidney’s or any other Roebuck Inc. subsidiary but their fates were intertwined with the giant’s every bit as much as the frustrated meat-girls yet it seemed there would be very little the company would be able to do for them other than to try to rectify the situation and have the ban lifted as soon as possible.

Hello fellow fans of dark twists in their erotica. I’m a writer, been a writer for a long time, and occasionally I like to write some dark sci-fi and fantasy for personal, private fun. Lately I’ve been doing it more often, so I thought, I should start sharing my works.
I’ve seen some writers (and more commonly, 2D artists and 3D animators) develop quite the fan following, and they opened up crowd funding and donation services to their fans. I’m going to take a stab at it too. Everything I write will become available for free, but if you want to support what I do, please do! I love money. :3 And, if the crowd funding takes off, I’ll write this sort of content more often.
https://subscribestar.adult/the-friendly-demon

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This story will continue for many chapters, and will focus on a demon and the companions he makes. The story will start in a classic medieval setting, but much of the story will actually take place in Hell as it evolves into a larger, more grandiose plot.
You might find this brand of guro erotica a bit peculiar compared to most, because I like to indulge a bunch of extreme kinks, with a romance plot that drives them. If you like the list of attributes you see below, you might just like my writing.
- romance
- descriptive guro sex scenes where a victim is killed is almost always going to be someone who deserves to die. IE: I write about very bad people getting literally fucked to death.
- monsters/demons fucking each other, and humans (sometimes victim, sometimes romance partner)
- consensual sex (between romantic partners)
- non-consensual sex (on victim)
- forced orgasms (on victim)
- large penetration sex (on both romantic partner, and victim)
- all-the-way-through and cum-through scenes (on both romantic partner, and victim)
- eventual body destruction, gore, and/or death by size of penetration (on victim)
- vore (on victim)
- lots of blood and cum
Enjoy!

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A Demon’s Rise




The demon looked down upon the sacrifice the villagers had brought him. A delicious sacrifice, and one he would enjoy.

The human was laid out upon the altar, its stone surface covered in many furs. Shivering, trembling, barely aware of her surroundings. That was how the villagers prepared his meals, and it was why he protected their village from raiders; they needed his protection, and he desired certain favors only their small hands and crafty minds could provide.

“Are you… g-going to eat this one too?” the spectator said. A human woman from the village had come to watch, a mature woman, perhaps thirty-five years of age. She was short, with lightly tanned skin and long black hair that reached past her wide hips. She wore the typical rags of the poor villagers, but that did not detract from her beauty, or hide the rather busty, curvy figure of her short frame.

The way she opened her eyes, wide, innocent, filled with curiosity, intrigued him. Perhaps she was a mother, the sweet sort, the ones who never quite grasped the grimness of reality, their heads forever filled with fantasy and their hearts forever filled with love. He could admire that, in a way.

Compared to the human, he was a giant, over fifteen feet tall. Some called him a minotaur upon first sighting, but he had far more horns than any minotaur, many sharp teeth, fangs, and tusks, and a long tail that ended with similar spikes. His fur was short, dark brown, and did little to hide the colossal amount of muscle and mass he carried. A demon, and one more than strong enough, and smart enough, to lay in ambush and slaughter any raiders that attempted to harm or rob the villagers and their quaint little town.

It was a delightful partnership that had taken years to foster, and one he had maintained for ten years now.

He nodded with her question, and stepped in closer to the human on the altar, his meal. Unlike the human who had come to watch, the sacrifice was tall, lean and strong, with feminine curves accented with abs, toned legs, and a large ass of muscle. Her breasts were small, a shade lighter in color than the rest of her very tanned skin, nipples a reddish brown to match her lips.

“We, we um… we prepared her for you, like the others. Her… her insides are all cleaned up, she’s eaten and drunken nothing but the potion and water for two days. All her skin below the neck has been shaved smooth, and… and we’ve dosed her with the drug.” The gentle woman stood beside him at the alter. Not afraid, of him at least, but perhaps a touch afraid of what he was going to do to the unconscious sacrifice. The tender creature was trembling. “She should wake up any second, and… she’ll… respond, to whatever you do to her.”

Delightful. Unlike many of his kind, he had developed a rather unique — he considered it developed — sexual taste in his prey. The villagers were more than willing to accommodate it in exchange for his protection, and they asked no questions. Or rather, they hadn’t before. This tiny woman joining him was the first of the villagers to ever ask him what he would do to his prey. He did not mind answering.

He reached down for the sacrifice, and turned her over onto her back, earning a groan of exhaustion from her thin, ever-frowning lips. A six-foot tall, gorgeous creature, one he was excited to soon have on his cock. The thought alone filled him with need, and he rumbled deep in his chest as his long tongue made a low slick of his chops. His shaft began to emerge from the sheath it normally hid within, blood pouring into it, filling it, causing it to both fall free from his body as his testicles descended, but also to thicken and grow dark with color.

The human beside him gasped, and stared, hand covering her lips as her wide, amber gaze could not look away. His cock grew longer, and longer, and longer still, the bumps, grooves, and ridges of its shape becoming defined and rigid, as its girth began to reach its limit. As it swelled, he squatted down by the edge of the altar, and with his titanic hands, pulled the dark woman closer so her legs dangled off its edge, and set his cock upon her body. Once he set his massive testicles between the doomed woman’s thighs, he compared the lengths, and rumbled with increasing desire as he saw that, once the base of his shaft was aligned with the dark woman’s slit, his cock’s length stopped an inch shy of her collar bone. Perhaps this one wouldn’t die so quickly.

“You can… fit that… inside her?” the human said.

He nodded. His cock was four inches thick, and two feet in length. A human torso, such as this bandit’s, could fit him plenty, if he used enough force.

“W… what’s…” The dark woman stirred, eyes opening, mouth tasting the air and body starting to twist. Once she realized her hands were tied behind her back, she tried to sit up, but stopped as she looked down across her body, and at the massive cock laid across her chest and stomach. “F… fuck… n-no.”

The demon glanced down at the gentler human, to see how she’d react to this raider’s awakening. The human’s eyes sparkled with what he could only imagine to be anticipation. How strange, and welcome. He had never had a spectator.

“Let me go! You can’t… you fucking… what fucking kind of village makes a pact with a demon!?” Ah, fury and fire rose up from the awakening bandit, and she started to twist and turn to attempt escape. But with her hands tied behind her, and one of her legs in the demon’s grip, she was going nowhere. The drugs in her system would keep her weak and helpless for hours to come as well.

“Mongar’loth is our friend,” the villager said. She got in closer still, until she was almost touching one of his enormous legs. Her head did not reach his hip. “He protects us, and we help him, give him a safe place to sleep. And… we give him food, when the situation allows.”

“You fucking sacrifice your own people?”

“We would never, and Mongar’loth would never expect that!” The tiny, curvy creature beside him was quickly becoming his ambassador. That was fine, perhaps even wanted, as normally his inability to speak English meant his meal had little clue as to the nature of their sacrifice. “The only people we sacrifice are people like you, raiders and bandits, murderers and rapists.”

It was true, of course. Mongar had little interest in killing the innocent or undeserving; there were already enough demons out there in the world doing that, causing mayhem for Fiends of all kinds and ensuring they were hated everywhere. Mongar kept his kills and meals to those the woman described, those deserving. It just so happened that, when the meal was also attractive, he was given an opportunity to let loose some of his more base demon desires. Nothing wrong with that.

Mongar rumbled, earning a surprised gasp from the bandit, as he began to gently nudge his hips back and forth. His cock was wet, self-coating in lubricant, and he rumbled again, purring deep in his chest, as the smell of it, of sex, started to fill the air of the forest.

“You… you can’t do this to me!”

The villager stomped a foot, and blew up her cheeks. “You deserve it!” She may have been in her mid thirties, but she behaved like a child.

“I deserve to die in battle! Not as some… demon’s… meal.”

“You deserve nothing! You… hurt someone in the village. She’ll never be able to walk on that leg again, thanks to your raid. And you would have killed some of us if Mongar hadn’t been there! You deserve nothing!”

Mongar tilted his head to the side as he looked down at the smaller human. There was hate there, in the little bundle of silly joy. That intrigued him. And, it gave him an idea.

Mongar picked the bandit up by the leg so that she dangled upside down, cursing and screaming, and he walked toward a nearby patch of soft grass. A large tree stood by it, and he sat down on his butt, legs spread, before setting the bandit between his thighs onto the grass. He motioned with his hand to the smaller human, and then to his leg.

She stared at him, blinking, before realization and understanding dawned on her. Nervous and trembling, the small human came up to him, and crawled onto his leg, sitting on it above the knee, her legs along his inner thigh and her feet reaching the grass.

“Your… fur is… very warm,” she said, smiling up at him. Still nervous, shaking like a leaf, but at the same time, he found more of that anticipation in her eyes, and that intrigued him all the more. “I’m Tilly, by the way.”

He nodded.

“Fuck you. Fuck you, let me go!” The warrior squirmed, but while she could still curse and scream, her muscles were weak with the drug. And, better yet, the drug awakened the sexual need in humans; a delicious spice for his meal, first introduced to him by a succubus friend long ago.

He picked up the bandit by the torso, facing him, so that her legs dangled, feet dragging along the grass since he was sitting. Close, and closer, he brought her in toward him until her feet were touching his testicles, the two massive orbs resting on the grass between his thighs.

His other hand slipped up and around Tilly, and with a delicate claw, he gently hooked it underneath the woman’s wrist, and guided her hand toward his crotch. As much as it was a hard phallus, his cock was gargantuan, and a touch pliable, so that gravity made it curve downward with its weight.

“I… oh… you uh… want my help… getting things into… into her?” she said, and he nodded, rumbling his contentment so that she understood. Rumbling made her shiver, and for her lips to curl into more strange, nervous, intrigued smiles. “… ok.” Quivering like a nervous girl on her first night with a man, Tilly reached around and over the bandit’s leg to find his cock, and started to lift. “It’s… heavy, and wet, and… and hot.” She leaned in closer, close to the limp warrior, closer to him, and used both hands to hold the phallus steady.

Mongar helped, one massive hand holding his cock at the base, while Tilly held it closer to the tip. His other hand held the exhausted, trembling sacrifice like a toy, around the torso, and brought her smooth, rich sepia cunt’s lips to the head of his cock. Her legs dangled, limp from the drug, and her sex smelled of arousal, touches of wetness on her slit.

“Fuck you! Fuck you fuck you fuck you, let me go! I’ll fucking kill you! I’ll—nng!” The bandit threw her head back, and grit her teeth, as Mongar pressed her tiny slit against the head of his cock.

It felt wonderful, to feel fresh meat, hot and squirming, rub against the head of his shaft. His penis was shaped similar to a horse’s, though the tip was not flared; instead, it was bulbous, like a human’s, if perhaps a little more pointed. The slightly sharper tip allowed him to work into a smaller hole, such as that belonging to prey in desperate need of rape and death. So, he rumbled bliss as the wet, tight little pussy of the warrior started to stretch around the glans of his cock, sending little sparks of bliss through his enormous shaft.

“Oh… gods,” Tilly said. Her breathing quickened, her grip tightened, and her hands, only inches from where his massive cock was slowly opening the small hole of the sacrifice, started to gently caress his cock. Small movements, movements he doubted the smaller human noticed she was doing, but her thumbs gently shifted up and down along his wet girth, and combined with her tightened grip, earned a rumble of delight from the demon.

He could smell arousal coming from the human on his leg.

“I’m going to tear! Fucking stop!” The raider managed to raise her head and look down the valley of her body, her abs and delicious skin, down to where his fat glans was slowly spreading her further and further apart. He could feel her clenches now, feel her squeezing and gripping, trying to stop his penetration. All she managed was to make the journey more pleasurable, as her soaked muscles milked at his glans.

Mongar was aroused, very aroused. More aroused than usual, he realized. The only thing stopping him from slamming the warrior down onto his cock hard enough to kill her then and there, was the human woman sitting on his leg, growing more and more aroused by the moment right along with him. She was the reason he found himself unusually stirred. What sort of human was aroused by these acts?

As much as his girth was thick and hard, it wasn’t steel. The sacrifice’s clenching muscles were enough to cause it to compress where she squeezed on it, slightly; if not for that, her tiny slit would have started to tear. But the combination of his cock’s fleshy malleability, and how it naturally lubricated — a requirement for demons, of course, for raping their prey — was enough to keep the girl from tearing. And with time, he eventually sank the entirety of the bulbous tip of his massive cock, past the wriggling woman’s smooth lips, and into her hot, trembling, clenching insides.

Once her hole, stretched taut and quivering, managed to slip past the base edge of the glans of his shaft, Mongar rumbled yet again. Delightful, to feel her trembling flesh work past the thickest part of his glans, and wrap tight around his cock where Tilly had her fingers. Having her muscles grip the slightly thinner part of his cock, holding the thicker part inside her, meant he no longer had to hold his shaft; Tilly’s hands were enough. And once he let go of his cock, he set the free hand behind Tilly, and gently nudged her back and ass with it.

She shivered in his palm, and looked up at him with big doe eyes. “You’re… very… warm.”

“He’s going to fucking kill me, you stupid woman! Do something!”

Tilly frowned at the bandit. Her arms, partially covered in the short sleeves of her rags, showed that she didn’t have much for muscle mass. A soft, tender creature. If she’d had more strength, Mongar was sure she’d hit the sacrifice with a fist.

Instead, Tilly, still holding the underside of this middle of his cock with one hand, raised her other hand higher, until it found the swollen clitoris of the sacrifice.

“The fuck are you doing?”

“You’re just a b-bandit! And… and you’ll die… cumming like a whore.” Licking her thick lips, Tilly began to caress the warrior’s clit, two fingers upon it, massaging it in a gentle, circular motion.

The effect was instantaneous. The raider grit her teeth, spit more and more curses at the two of them, and glared pure hatred at Tilly, all while her breath started to come in pants. A woman’s touch was a knowledgeable touch, after all, and Tilly knew what to do to make the forcibly aroused sacrifice enjoy it, whether she wanted to or not. All too obvious that the tanned creature was enjoying it as well, as her juices started to trickle down Mongar’s cock, and her muscles squeezed in new rhythms, fucking rhythms.

The head of his cock was five inches in length; there was no room left inside the warrior’s quivering snatch. So, he’d make room. He pulled her to him, and rumbled his pleasure as his fat girth began to stretch the girl’s pussy deeper into her body, the soft texture of his glans pressing to her cervix.

“Fuck! Stop! You’re… it’s too deep! Fuck… you!” The sacrifice glared at Tilly again, perhaps finding more fury for the person able to communicate with her. “Stop! Stop it! Stop you fucking bitch!”

Tilly didn’t stop. If anything, her hand under his cock squeezed harder, to help keep it straight as it started to bend under the pressure of Mongar pulling the warrior closer. And, Tilly started moaning, the very quiet moans humans made when they were unable to contain their arousal and excitement. She continued to massage the bandit’s clitoris, and her hand on his cock began to stroke him as well, sliding a few inches with her wet, squeezing grip. And through this all, Mongar continued to push down on the sacrifice’s body, a fuck toy in his hand, her legs limp and dangling, her stomach pointed up so Mongar and his new friend could watch the distension along her abdomen move, showing where his cock was inside her.

He was getting deeper, stretching the warrior further in, elongating her cunt a couple inches, and then another, until her could feel the muscles growing too taut to stretch further inward. The sacrifice groaned as he did, as he filled her, and eventually, she moaned. Moaned, and came.

“St… stop… stop it…”

Tilly gasped, and stopped touching the sacrifice’s clitoris, but Mongar was content to continue probing at her insides. As the raider began to writhe, trembling, legs quivering as they dangled, her juices began to leak out of her in copious amounts, trickling little streams of it working down his length. He pushed harder, forced the bulge along her stomach to reach past her navel, and earn another loud groan out of the warrior, a moan of pain and pleasure.

Mongar rumbled again, a little louder, thicker, a purr hard enough to make Tilly squeak and look up at him. The flowing pleasure of heat, of pouring cum rising up from between his legs and into his shaft, filled his giant body with animal bliss, and he rumbled deeper, enough to make Tilly lightly vibrate on his leg, as he started to cum into his sacrifice.

“What… n-no…” The bandit glared up at him, tears of rage in her eyes, even as she continued to quiver with orgasm aftershocks, aftershocks he could feel clench on the head of his cock. His cum flowed out him like a crashing river, and with how tight the seal of her muscles was, squeezing taut around his cock, some of his cum managed to force its way into her womb. Most still managed to escape her, and flow back out of her, onto his cock, onto its veins, bumps, and ridges, and onto Tilly’s hands.

“Oh gods, Mongar…” Tilly set both her hands on his cock, and milked him. She was lost to her arousal, panting, hyperventilating, large breasts showing the points of her hard nipples against her white, dirty rags. She did not know that he intended to cum many times in his sacrifice tonight, that he always came many times, and that the river of cum she saw before her was only a drop of what he would pour into this sacrifice before eating her.

Her amber eyes stared at his shaft, and how it was half covered in streams of white, and at how it refused to soften. Perhaps she was starting to realize how large his sex drive was.

“Fuck… you… fucking monster,” the warrior said, teeth grit. Enough cum had forced its way into her womb to make her look somewhat pregnant, enough to have Tilly awestruck.

He snorted at the sacrifice, and forced her down upon his cock, harder. And as the massive, swollen glans of his shaft ground against her cervix, he felt the small hole, the walls around it already stretched to their limit, begin to open.

“Fuck! No, stop it! Fuck… f… fuck!” The sacrifice cried out, a scream that echoed off the trees, as her cervix gave way, and he forced his glans into the soft bed of her womb. The angle caused the glans to angle upward, pointing toward her belly; such was the nature of a human’s anatomy. He rumbled his satisfaction as he watched the bulge on her abdomen reach up to her sternum, poking up and outward from her with the angle of her womb, filled by his cum and his cock.

The bandit glared at him with something new in her eyes, something he craved, something he was waiting for. Fear. Mixed in with the pain and the unwanted pleasure forced upon her, humiliating her and dominating her, was fear, only now dawning on her as he skewered her with a foot of his length. She was going to die, impaled on a demon’s cock.

Tilly was no longer holding his shaft, as half of it was buried in the sacrifice. Instead, she had her hands in her lap, her cum-coated hands fidgeting, and she was staring at her digits, and how the thickness of his cum stuck to her fingers. She also looked at the warrior, at the large bulge along her belly, and shivered all the more.

“You’re… in her… womb…”

Time to test and see how far this wonderful human was willing to go. His hand upon Tilly’s back slipped around, and he nudged the titanic claw against the chest of her clothes.

“W-What?” she said.

Again, he nudged at the clothes, and plucked at her neckline with one of his massive claws. Her doe eyes widened all the more as she realized what he was asking; such beautiful eyes. He started to masturbate with the warrior’s body, nice and slow, ignoring her cries of agony as he slipped his glans out of her womb, only to again force it past her beaten and battered cervix, far easier the second time, and third, and tenth. And as he masturbated with the wriggling body of his sacrifice, he watched the human on his leg, gazing into her eyes with the black gaze of a demon.

“You… w-want me to… get naked?”

He nodded.

“You’re… you um… you… you’re attracted… to me?”

This woman was too precious. He nodded again.

As if the universe itself exploded into a star shower in her eyes, they widened as they stared up at him. He met her gaze with his, knowing full well his eyes were an endless abyss of black, and for some reason, this innocent, curvy little woman, was getting lost in them. And he hers. He continued to masturbate with the groaning sacrifice, working more of his cum out of her, and letting her whimpers of pain and forced pleasure fill the background as the demon and the little human looked at each other.

Tilly, trembling like a leaf before a stampede, set her cum-soaked fingers onto the bottom of her rags, and began to lift them up from her legs. Slowly, with glances drifting between him and the sacrifice, she raised the skirt higher, and higher, exposing her lightly tanned, curvy legs. They were smooth. She got the rags up to her ass, and, squirming left and right, she worked it up and over, and then up to her head before slipping it past her hair. Mongar rumbled, quieter, purring at the sight of her massive, heavy, teardrop breasts weighing against her chest, and the dark pink of her nipples against the lightly tanned skin.

She giggled, covered her breasts with her arms, but with a few moments of his staring, she eventually lowered them, and started to slide off her waist wrap, a simple sash of white that covered her ass and sex. Once it too was on the grass, the little human hugged herself, kept her arms underneath her breasts as she slowly, very slowly, spread her legs a few inches. It was enough for him to see that, like the sacrifice, Tilly has shaved her legs, her privates, everything to smooth.

“I… I um… I always liked… the look of the sacrifices, you know? The female ones. I remember, years ago, seeing one once she was ready for you, and I thought… gods, she looks so beautiful. And… and she’d look… so beautiful… skewered to death… on your cock.” Helpless to her overflowing arousal, Tilly inched one hand down her wide hips, flat stomach, and curvy thighs, to set her fingers onto her pink, soaked folds. Mongar could tell she was horribly embarrassed, whole body blushing red, but she was a slave to her lust, and she began to lightly probe at her insides as she watched the sacrifice struggle. “I wanted… to look… like that.”

Mongar tilted his head to the side, and made a quick grunting sound.

“N-No, I… I don’t mean I want to die. I don’t. Just… just that… it’s… strangely beautiful.”

“Fuck you! He’s going to kill me! He—nnng!” The bandit’s complaints came to a quick stop, as Mongar started to masturbate with her body at a more normal pace, working his glans in and out of her womb with each stroke. He made sure to stretch it inward as deep as it could go, forcing her cunt and womb taut so the distension along her abs pushed up to her sternum.

Tilly reached out, and again, set her fingers onto the warrior’s clitoris, working to keep her hand in sync with Mongar’s stroking.

“Stop! Stop it! This… f-fuck… fuck you… fuck… fuck you!” For all her cries of pain, and growing tears, the sacrifice began to tremble, and writhe, and cum. The drug coursing through her veins did wonders, bringing her body to a great sexual need for many hours to come, so even with his enormous cock stretching her to near tearing, and penetrating into her womb, she came. Each few inches he worked her body was a few inches of the grooves and bumps of his shaft rubbing and pressing against both her g-spot, and her deep spot, undoubtedly mixing great bliss in with her pain.

And Tilly’s expert fingers upon the sacrifice’s clit was too much for her. The warrior’s legs continued to dangle, helpless, but her torso had enough control to bend and writhe as her orgasm worked through her, and her clenching cunt forced her juices to flow down his length.

And soon, so were Mongar’s. His cum poured into her womb, trying to stretch it further still, but the delicious confines were already stretched to their limit. Instead, his cum, fighting for room inside her, gushed out of her taut opening, and down onto the remaining foot of his length. Waves of it, copious amounts, literal gallons, as he kept his cock as deep as it could go into the bandit’s destroyed cunt. He was a demon, and his seed was unending, fueled by his sexual need, not by physical limitations. And with this human on his leg, masturbating with one hand, and now stroking his cum-coated length with her other, his need was massive.

As the larger human started to go limp, perhaps defeated, or simply exhausted, he lifted her up, and up, until his fat cock slipped free of her trembling insides. His cum gushed out of her, splashing along the grass, and Mongar rumbled his satisfaction as he watched both his cum, and the sacrifice’s, flow down her long, tanned legs.

“Are… are you going to eat her now?” Tilly said.

He shook his head. He would have far more fun with the sacrifice before then.

One of his claws found Tilly’s hand, and guided it to the underside of his cock again. So did the other, slipping her hand out from between the blushing woman’s thighs, and setting it onto his cock as well, its underside. She was almost about to ask something, probably what he was going to do next, but she made an aww sound of understanding, as his free hand took his cock’s bottom half into his palm, and he aimed the warrior’s pelvis at it once again. This time, he set her asshole against the soaked, dripping glans of his length.

“P… please… don’t…”

“Shush you! I lost family to bandits! My husband! Years ago… You, your kind, you don’t deserve pity!” Tilly tightened her grip on his cock, and kept it solid, as he began to lower the sacrifice further down, so he felt the subtle point of his cock’s head begin to work against her tiny rose entrance.

“Let… let me go…” Truly defeated then, to be begging now, when they had yet to even begin to main course. Pitiful.

The bandit cried out as her anus began to spread open, lubricated by his cum-soaked cock, and her insides already prepared by the villagers. Mongar did not enjoy fecal matter on his shaft, no. The prey’s intestines were both cleaned and prepared, and he took full advantage. He groaned, rumbled his pleasure as Tilly squeezed near the base of his glans, and forced in another inch into the warrior’s rectum, passed her clenching sphincter.

“N… no, please… not… not there…,” the doomed woman said, voice meek, weak, and mixed with whimpering sobs.

She was, perhaps, a little squeamish about anal sex then. Good. He would have much fun forcing the sacrifice to cum, and cum, and cum, as he worked his way up to killing her.

Once six inches of his cock forced its way into the squeezing flesh of the warrior’s colon, he let go, and nudged Tilly’s hands off of his shaft as well. She raised an eyebrow in confusion, but all became clear once she let go of him. The bandit’s sphincter had slipped past the bulbous head of his shaft, and was squeezing around the thinner part of his cock just past it. His cock wouldn’t fall out of her unless he wanted it to.

He picked Tilly up with his free hand, and she gasped, clutching onto his fingers with panic. But, as he purred, rumbling sound smooth and consistent, she settled down, only to gasp yet again as he lowered her down onto his cock, facing the sacrifice. He was sitting in the grass on his ass after all, leaning back against a tree, legs spread, and despite his great size, the position allowed for Tilly to stand on the grass as well, his cock between her legs. She was not tall enough to keep her weight off of him though, even as her toes reached the grass, and her smooth, soaking wet slit spread open on the thickness of his cock near the base.

“It’s… hot, and it’s… gods… it’s…” The little human, apparently fascinated by the enormous phallus sticking out from between her legs, set both hands on it again, and gently squeezed and massaged its white-coated length, fingers caressing the bumps and ridges.

The most delightful aspect of the change in position though, was the warrior skewered on the end of the cock Tilly had between her thighs. Now, the little woman got to see with visceral clarity, just what he was going to do to his sacrifice.

He began to pull the tanned woman closer to him. Her groans of discomfort were blatant, but hidden within them were the moans of someone enjoying themselves, someone unable to ignore the bliss of a titanic shaft filling her, pressing against the various spots in a human’s snatch through the wall of flesh of her rectum. With her torso held horizontal in his hand, and her two legs dangling underneath her, her cunt was on full display for both he, and his new companion, to gaze upon as he brought the doomed woman in an inch closer, and an inch closer. His fat shaft was pliable, but not as pliable as the sacrifice’s colon, and he rumbled bliss as the curvature of her large intestine began to adjust around his cock, straightening out to accommodate him. The bulge showed upon her abs, not as defined as when he was skewering her cunt, but still apparent, and Tilly shivered as she reached out, and touched it.

“Oh gods, she… you’re going to…” As if helping guide him, Tilly reached out with both hands, and set them onto the approaching warrior’s hips. She pulled, which only shifted herself forward along his cock, and earned a loud, squeaky moan from the little human, as her dripping folds and swollen clit rubbed along the bumps and ridges of his shaft.

“Mercy, please. I… I’m going… to break.”

Sweet, delicious fear. Mongar rumbled again, deep and louder, making Tilly squeak in surprise at both the sound, and him sinking yet a few more inches of his cum-dripping length into his sacrifice. With a foot of himself in her intestines, the distension along the sacrifice’s abs reached her sternum once again, and created a beautiful sight as Mongar began to masturbate with her. A few inches, nothing more, easing in a couple more into the whimpering creature, and then easing back out. To feel her colon stretch and grip around his fat, swollen glans was divine, and he could feel the sacrifice clench her sphincter on him as the bumps and thickness of his shaft pressed and rubbed against her cunt and womb through her ass. He kept the pace gentle, but fast enough to earn some moans from his sacrifice, moans of pleasure.

“No… n-no… stop, please… no… no no no… you can’t! You—” Her mouth shut tight, teeth clenching, and head falling back to dangle between her shoulders, as she came. Orgasm tore through the sacrifice, causing her to wriggle upon his cock, squeeze it, each twist of her torso bathing his length in the motions of her futile attempts to escape. And she squirted, empty cunt squeezing down and forcing a tiny gush of her girl cum onto the foot of his cock still waiting to enter her. And onto Tilly.

“Oh! She’s… oh my.” Tilly looked down at herself, at the white cum on Mongar’s cock washing away under the rain of the warrior’s fluids, at the warrior’s cum splashing against Tilly’s stomach and breasts, and she moaned as well. “Cumming from anal sex… with a demon… that deep?”

“You—nnnn!” Again the sacrifice came, the drugs, combined with Mongar’s consistent and almost gentle masturbating rhythm, ensuring the girl had no choice but to enjoy it, enjoy feeling her colon penetrated, enjoy anal sex with the demon about to kill her. She squirted harder, and Tilly squeaked as another gush of girl cum splashed along her belly, her heavy, hanging breasts, and where her smooth slit was spread open on the base of his cock.

He went deeper, forcing the wriggling worm to groan in pain between her moans of pleasure. More and more of her large intestine fit around his cock, until it was pushing up into her torso, underneath her ribs, and nudging aside her organs to make room for him.

“Wait! I can’t… f… fuck…. Please! Mercy! Stop! I… can’t… breathe!”

Slowly but surely, Mongar eased in another inch, and another, each met with a gentle stroke of the warrior back and forth along him, masturbating with her while slowly getting deeper. The panic in her eyes as she forced her head up to stare at him, was exquisite. She could feel him now, starting to penetrate her torso, pressing against her diaphragm and lungs, her large intestine wrapping eighteen inches of his length and keeping it from killing her. So far. He still had six inches to go.

But he stopped. Better to enjoy the beautiful, sexual, writhing sacrifice’s unwanted orgasms, to feel her squirming, feel every muscle of her torso squeeze and massage his cock, before the end. For now she would live, with eighteen inches of his titanic girth filling her. And with her insides squeezing on him, it was not long before he felt his own orgasm rise once more.

“I… going… p-please… mercy…” The bandit kept her head up so she could stare him, stare at Tilly, with begging eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. She groaned as Mongar tilted her body more upright, so she was almost eye to eye with Tilly, both of their legs dangling around his cock, and their knees touching.

Mongar rumbled more bliss as his cum flooded the sacrifice’s guts. He continued to masturbate with her, but only a single inch, enough to gently nudge his glans against her depths, her organs, and send waves of pleasure, tingling sparks of bliss down his length and into his core, as his flexing muscles within his pelvis forced waves of his cum to pour into the sacrifice. Tilly moaned openly at the sight of the warrior’s belly beginning to swell, and she, perhaps unaware of her own actions, rubbed her cunt back and forth an inch along his shaft, as she watched the warrior take his seed. The bandit tried to collapse backward, but Mongar kept her upright as gallons upon gallons of his thick, white cum poured through her. The poor creature, eyes wide, tears dripping off of her chin, mouthed silent words of begging as she stared at the woman only six inches from her, before the inevitable happened.

A wave of cum flowed out of the sacrifice’s mouth, down over her breasts, her hard nipples, her swollen belly, down her thighs, and down along the last six inches of his cock where Tilly sat.

“Oh gods! That’s… that’s why you have us… prepare them like you do. That’s…” The smaller human reached out, caught some of the waterfall of cum flowing down the sacrifice’s chest, and spread it to the sides so she could massage it into the warrior’s smaller breasts and nipples.

“M… mercy,” the warrior managed to say through waves of cum. Poor creature was unaware of how long this orgasm would last, and how close to asphyxiation she might become, if she did not try to breathe between waves of his seed.

“You don’t deserve mercy!” Tilly reached out with one hand, and covered the bandit’s mouth, fingers gripping her jaw tight. The two women were only six inches apart, and Tilly had all the leverage to do with the doomed woman’s body as she saw fit. “You deserve to die like a whore, cumming until you’re dead on a cock.” With one hand clutching the girl’s face and covering her mouth tight, her other reached down, scooped three fingers into the warrior’s wet cunt, and began to finger the her pussy, digits curling up toward the warrior’s abdomen.

The warrior, again forced to orgasm against her will and gushing girl cum onto the smaller human, trembled with new waves of horror, as his cum squirted from her nostrils. Tilly’s hand was not capable of stopping his cum from gushing out of the sacrifice’s mouth, but it stopped some, and the waves of fluid filled the larger woman’s sinuses before squirting from the twin holes above her mouth, soaking Tilly’s wrist.

“… that’s right, just die, filled with demon cum. Every hole… everywhere…” There was malice to this lovely little creature’s heart. She had said her husband had died years ago to bandits. Perhaps she was redirecting her rage at this woman before her? Understandable, and enjoyable. Mongar was happy to indulge her her revenge fantasy, especially as her spread, boiling slit continued to massage the base of his cock.

The tanned-skinned beauty stared on, eyes locked with Tilly as she slowly ran out of air, as white fluid filled her head, flowed out of her mouth down her body, and flowed out of her nostrils onto Tilly’s wrist. And, with time, the sacrifice’s tears poured anew, until finally, they too changed. Tilly’s whole body began to vibrate with excitement, and shock, as she watched her victim’s tears change to white.

It was enough for the small human to enjoy her first orgasm. She lowered both her hands to the warrior’s hips, and pulled herself forward the single inch she had to, to rub their cunts together. And as she did, the stared on at the sacrifice, and whimpered like a cat in heat as she watched tears of thick cum force their way out of the sacrifice’s eyes and down her cheeks. The bandit’s head began to fall back, no longer held by Tilly, but Mongar adjusted his grip slightly to prop the doomed girl’s head up with a finger, so Tilly could enjoy the results of her actions, could continue to gaze upon the beautiful girl as cum flowed from her mouth, and now both her nostrils, and her tear ducts. It was enough to have the tiny human’s cunt leaking copious juices onto Mongar as she came.

Through all of this, the warrior woman was shaking, quivering, and her insides were massaging and gripping Mongar’s cock. A powerful orgasm, one he enjoyed immensely, each breath, each heart beat of the sacrifice, all felt upon where his cock filled her insides, wearing her guts and skewering her torso. But soon it started to pass, orgasm fading away, as well as the tides of cum. Eventually the sacrifice managed to get in a breath, and another, as she vomited more cum, and more, and it no longer replenished.

She was conscious, and trying to blink away the cum that now lined her eyelashes.

Tilly, recovering from her own orgasm, peeked up at Mongar, heavy breasts rising and falling with her panting, each breast dripping with the bandit’s cum, and the demon’s. She wanted to know where this would go next.

Mongar offered her a smile — hard to do with a giant minotaur-like snout, filled with sharp demon teeth, fangs, and with a couple tusks besides — and turned his body on the grass. He set one hand on Tilly, her hips and waist, and held her where she was as he turned enough so he could fall back, and set his back to the grass, his head and shoulders now propped up by a large boulder, tail to the side.

Once he was sure Tilly was comfortable on his pelvis, still only inches away from the bandit with the two of them sitting up right, he let go of Tilly, and brought the bandit’s legs up onto his pelvis. The human caught on quickly, and grabbed the warrior’s legs to pull them over her hips.

“M…Mercy…”

Mongar rumbled, a darker, quieter sound, and shoved the sacrifice balls deep onto his cock.

The warrior tried to scream out, he could feel it with his cock inside her torso, but she could not. His cock tore through her taut large intestine, forced its way into her chest, and skewered her flesh nearly up to her collar bone. All room was lost inside her, and her diaphragm couldn’t stretch to fit him; it tore as well. A wave of cum squirted out from her mouth and nostrils, landing on Tilly’s breasts with the force of it, as his cock squashed against her guts and forced out more of the fluid.

His cock was its thickest at the base, and the shaft’s malleable nature was not enough to stop the sacrifice’s rectum from tearing. Her colon had been taut for each inch of his length, and now ripped open for each inch he was inside her, until his cock fell free of its squeezing confines, and was now simply inside her, free to rub and squash against her organs.

As the wave of cum passed, the sacrifice managed to find her breath. And she began to scream, little screams ultimately, as her attempts to breathe mostly failed. But he could feel it, feel her attempts to breathe with her ripped open diaphragm caress his shaft, feel her heart beat frantically and massage his length, and feel her lungs act as a soft, hot bed for his cock’s head.

“Oh… gods,” Tilly said. “He’s… just… tearing you up inside isn’t he?”

Mongar stared at the small woman sitting on his pelvis, and rumbled his pleasure as Tilly lay back upon his titanic body and abs. She hooked one of her legs over the warrior’s, and slipped her other underneath, and scooted herself in closer. Still lying upon him on her back, she brought herself in close enough for her cunt to rub against the dying warrior’s cunt. Tilly squeezed her leg around the victim hard, hard enough for their clits to squish together, and force the bandit to convulse on Mongar’s cock.

She wanted to feel the beautiful, tanned warrior die as she rubbed their pussies together.

He began to lift the sacrifice again, up and down two inches, so that the dying woman and her death spasms bathed his cock in blood and bliss. But he also kept the pace somewhat slow, and only those two inches, so Tilly could remain where she was, occasionally rubbing her cunt against the warrior’s cunt, and then taking moments to finger herself, hard and fast, until she was trembling in orgasm on Mongar’s abdomen.

“St… op…” The warrior managed words, but soon they too were a lost cause, as small globs of cum were joined by lines of red blood, leaking from her mouth and nostrils. Her blood leaked out of her asshole as well, soon coating Mongar’s pelvis, his testicles, and Tilly’s ass.

Mongar let go of the sacrifice’s body. She fell forward onto the smaller human, limp, trembling and alive, but limp. Tilly squeaked again — such a delightful sound — and looked at the cum-filled, dying woman now lying upon her. Mongar set both his hands onto the warrior’s legs, her thick and powerful thighs, and used those to shift her quivering frame back and forth on his cock instead. It allowed for Tilly to experience the woman’s delicious body, feel her, hold onto her, as her cum-soaked life began to fade away.

Lost to her arousal, her blood-lust, and her new discovery of murder, Tilly wrapped her arms and legs around the sacrifice like a lover, and pressed their wet and sticky bodies together. The bandit was still alive, still squirming, but she no longer had energy to make a sound. Even as Tilly began to kiss the dying woman, locking their lips together, tongue licking at the cum and blood that leaked out of the warrior’s mouth and down her nostrils, still the sacrifice could do nothing but quiver as her life drained away.

It was too much for Mongar, to see a beautiful human kiss his sacrifice as she died on his cock. Any demon would be seduced by this human. Unable to resist any longer, the quivering death-squeezes of his meal sent him over the edge, and again his cum poured into her. No longer guided by her intestines, his cum flowed over her organs, sending the dying woman into a trembling mess as the liquid fought for places to escape. Her lungs, her heart, all were drowned in his seed, and he rumbled his pleasure as he felt her heart panic and flutter against his cock.

Much of it started to gush out of her mouth and nostrils again, onto Tilly’s mouth and jaw. The little woman squeaked, pulled her head back and used her hands to lift the warrior’s face. Still alive, but barely, and she managed a few shivers and a few blinks, as more cum leaked from her tear ducts and down her cheeks, nose, and down onto Tilly’s lips. The human mewled, moaned, and began to kiss the sacrifice as demon cum and blood flooded into her mouth.

Mongar let go of the sacrifice’s leg with one hand, brought his massive palm to her head, and with a hard twist and squeeze, ripped her head free of her body. The last few spasms of her muscles, and the last few frantic beats of her heart against his cock, were divine.

Tilly screamed, but not in terror, simply in shock. She was now holding a headless corpse, no longer a dying woman. And with no head, there was nothing to stop the demon’s cum and the sacrifice’s blood from gushing from the new hole, all over Tilly’s neck.

Panting, trembling, she crawled out from underneath the corpse, cum and blood still gushing up onto her belly and between her thighs, and she turned her head to look at Mongar. He dropped the head of the sacrifice into his mouth, and crunched down on it. Bone, brains, blood, all nourishment for a demon. He did not care that his cum came with it; he was a demon after all.

“Oh… gods…” Tilly looked back down at the headless thing still on his cock, and then back to him. “I… I need… gods, I need something inside me. Please, anything. I… can… can you, I don’t, I—ah!” She squeaked yet again as he reached out for her with one hand, and brought her to his mouth. “Are… are you… what’re you… going to do?”

If he’d wanted to, he could have eaten this human woman right there, and so engrossed in the morbidity and sexuality of it all, she’d probably have enjoyed it. But he would do no such thing. He had a pact with the humans of the nearby village, and more than that, he found himself terribly intrigued, and aroused by this small woman.

He brought her up to his mouth, and holding her so her stomach was fading toward his stomach, he brought her between his teeth and tusks, and into his mouth. They were pointed, but not sharp enough to cut by simply touching; he’d have to chomp down to do that. It was easy for her to find the rock behind his head, set her feet against it, while her dripping wet body, the whole of her torso, pelvis, and abdomen, were between his teeth. If he had decided to bite down, she’d have lost her limbs and head with how much of her was in her mouth. But instead, he pushed his long, thick tongue against her pussy, and began to open her.

“Oh! Oh! Oh!”

Perfect. He was mostly lying down, but his head and shoulders were propped up at an angle by the boulder behind him. The angle made it easy for the woman to find places to rest her knees upon the base of his mouth, shins sticking out at the corners so her feet could find the boulder, and her hands gripped his fangs as he let go of her. No longer held by him, there was nothing to stop her from running away. Of course, she did not, and instead pushed her pussy down further toward him, toward his tongue, her large breasts rubbing against the bottom of his mouth near his teeth. His tongue was as thick as his cock, but a far more malleable, soft appendage, and the human cried out in bliss as it began to force its way into her boiling insides.

He brought both hands back to the headless sacrifice, the corpse still skewered on his cock, and again began to masturbate. While he was free to be more ruthless with the warrior’s body, now that Tilly was no longer pressed against her, having the human in his mouth meant he could not be too forceful, for fear of hurting the woman between his teeth. Still, he managed to create a pleasant rhythm, lifting the corpse a foot off of his cock, before driving the twenty-four inches of his length back into her destroyed insides. Blood and cum poured out of her ass and down his testicles, and the same for the neck of the corpse as well, squirting forcefully up onto his abs and goliath chest.

Tilly stared at the corpse, at the sacrifice, and came. Her pussy clenched down on him, his tongue, and her juices gushed. Mongar used drugs to bring women to such sexual arousal that they could squirt like this, but Tilly was just as aroused without any drugs, her body almost scalding hot within his mouth, and her juices delicious and copious as they leaked down his tongue. He pushed the appendage in deeper, reaching her cervix, stretching the width of her pussy taut, and as he continued to push in his tongue, eventually the length of her snatch grew taut as well. Through it all, Tilly only moaned, panting and squeaking and whimpering as she came again, and again, and again. Even as he licked and probed the flesh around her cervix, she only clenched harder, and when he pressed the tip of his tongue toward her stomach hard, her body erupted, gushing ejaculate into his awaiting maw.

Mongar squeezed on the bandit’s body harder, crushing it, tightening it on him, causing organs to burst and bones to break. He rumbled bliss — Tilly squealed with the sound so close to her — and he milked his orgasm, causing yet more gallons of thick, white cum to pour into the meal, the ever shrinking confines of her crushed body causing the cum to squirt of her neck and onto him. Every so often, a flex of his cock caused the corpse to sit upright, and his cum became a geyser, mixed with blood and squirting upright a foot or two, before raining back down onto the corpse.

But eventually, he let go, and let the waves of his cum slow. Instead, he focused on Tilly, and reached up with a hand to turn her around.

“Mongar, you… I…” She now literally sat in his mouth, her ass against the bottom of it, while his tongue worked within her, wriggling and rolling inside her stretched pussy; no doubt she’d be able to see such movement along her stomach, as they did the bandit earlier. “I had no idea you could be this… nice, and brutal… at the same time.”

Rumbling agreement, his forced his tongue against her depths once more. She squealed all the louder, hands reaching up to hold onto his fangs, thighs between his deeper teeth and feet against the boulder behind him, as she squirted into his mouth. He licked and teased her insides, malleable muscle pressing up against her g-spot and depths both, and causing the quivering little woman to squirt for what must have been the tenth time onto his tongue.

Soon, he stopped that as well, and as Tilly succumbed to exhaustion, going limp in his mouth, he took her in his palm again and eased her out before she hurt herself on her teeth.

He set her down on the grass beside him, reached down for his sacrifice, slipped it off his cock, gave the corpse a few moments to leak out the majority of his cum, and threw it into his mouth. Despite her exhaustion, Tilly forced herself to sit up on her knees on the grass, hands against his leg, and watched him devour his meal. He was a huge creature, but not so huge he could eat a human in one gulp; not comfortably, at least. The first bite took the legs, the next took the torso below the arms, teeth tearing apart skin, muscle, and sinew. The final bite took the rest, the arms and what remained of her torso, all delicious meat spiced with fear and sex, into his belly.

“Mongar, I… I um… oh gods, I’m so embarrassed!” Tilly stood up, and looked down at herself. “More than embarrassed! I… this is so wrong! Humans aren’t demons, we… don’t…” She brought her hands up to her breasts, the large, heavy teardrops filling and overflowing her palms. Almost every inch of her below the nose was covered in some degree of demon cum, the bandit’s girl cum, or the bandit’s blood. And now her thighs too, were coated in demon saliva, and her own cum.

Humans, indeed, did not crave murder like this, sexuality mixed with blood and death like this. This was a demon trait. Even a succubus did not butcher their prey, preferring to kill with a simple draining of energy until the prey simply no longer lived. Demons were the ones that mixed sex with butchery, or at least, so he thought. But Tilly was quickly proving otherwise.

He rumbled, quiet, soothing, and reached out to set a hand on Tilly’s shoulders, before pointing toward the nearby river.



————————————



He sat in the cool water, and watched Tilly bathe herself. Her long black hair, her slender waist, her wide hips, her enormous breasts, her lightly tanned skin, it was all terribly beautiful. He found a deeper part of the gentle river to bathe himself, but once he was done, Tilly had found a shallower patch only several feet away, and washed herself in front of him, slowly. She wanted him to watch. He wanted to watch.

“I… I know you heard, what I said about my husband.” She sighed, and shivered as the cool water fought against her body heat. Her large, red nipples were hard, though now with cold.

He nodded. He could not speak the human language, his mouth could not articulate the sounds. But he understood it, and all Tilly needed was an ear, for someone to listen.

“We’d had many children, but they all died not longer after childbirth. Life is… rough.” She waddled toward him, and sat down upon the smooth pebbles of the river bed, water reaching halfway up her torso. “And then he died to bandits, and… and it was horrible. I spied on you, when you were killing some of the more attractive women, from that raid. Of course, I don’t blame you that you couldn’t save everyone. This village would have been wiped out if it wasn’t for you.

“But, I… when I saw you… force yourself onto these women, until they… literally died… on your… penis. I… I was… hypnotized.” She leaned against him, and put her back against the side of his leg. “My husband and I had often engaged in rape fantasies, you know? I liked it when he’d tie me up, pin me down, force himself on me. It… we were good together.” Her hand found the short fur of his leg, and she stroked it, like a human might pet a dog. He didn’t mind. “But when I saw you… kill… with your cock, kill some of the people responsible, it… did something to me. Awoke something in me, I guess.”

He tilted his grand head of horns to the side, and watched the short human confess her deepest secrets to him. Such memories would be painful, but for her to admit they had led to new sexual fantasies? Those were the sorts of secrets people usually took to their grave.

“I’m all alone now. Nothing left for me in this village. Over the years, my friends grew distant. I guess they noticed I was different. And now I… I don’t know, I thought, maybe, before I leave, I wanted to… to indulge this part of me. Or at least, see it up close for once, this thing I… that I’d been thinking about for a long time now. But now, I… I’m going to leave the village. I hear maybe the capital has some decent brothels I could work at? I know people like my body… I can get by that way.”

Perhaps she could, but, it was not a way he would recommend. And considering Tilly’s unusual tastes, he doubted she’d ever be happy working at a brothel.

Then, perhaps, she’d be happy doing something different. He held out his wrist, and with his other hand, cut through the thick skin enough for his blood to begin dripping into the water. It was black.

“I… I don’t understand.”

With the claw that cut himself, he caught a drop of the thick blood, and brought it up to his lips where he licked it off.

“… you want me to drink… your blood?”

He nodded.

“… it’ll change me, won’t it? I’ll… I won’t be human, anymore, will I?”

He nodded.

“Will… will it make me a demon, like you?”

He used his other hand to pinch thumb and index finger together. Not full demon, just a little bit demon. Of course, he had no way to explain the details of that, he could only gesture that it was half true. But, with that hand, he set it on her back, and held her close to his leg.

“… wait, are you… you want me to stay? With you?”

He nodded again. Of course he wanted her to stay. A human, with the sick, wild urges of a demon? And yet, a woman with a strangely kind, soft heart? She was like him, in a way. He was a demon who helped humans, and by all accounts, that made him a strangely kind, soft hearted demon. He wasn’t so grand a fool as to ignore this symmetry.

“… ok.” Gulping loud enough for him to hear it over the gentle river, she got up, walked over to his wrist, and caught one of the thick, black drops that fell. And offering him a smile, a motherly, tender smile, she swallowed the blood down.

This is going to be a collection of stories about a fantasy nation where people find pleasure in killing and dying, but the rest of the world doesn't.

This first chapter is the creation myth, telling the story of the goddess sisters who made the nation that way.

=Katsana and Sayobi, Goddesses of Death and Pleasure (f/f, incest, snuff, a little bit of necro)=

[Katsana is 6'1, deathly gray skin, a cup breasts, short black hair, and is wearing panties, a sheer top, and a transparent train that attaches to the panties at her waist. Sayobi is 6'3, warm tan skin, d cup breasts, long pink hair, and is wearing a skirt and a bra.]

Once, even the gods were young. There were eight gods, each one diametrically opposed to another. Chief among these rivalries was the one between the sisters Sayobi and Katsana, the goddesses of pleasure and death. While there was a goddess of life, she and Katsana existed in symbiosis; life and death need each other, and thus could never bring themselves to hate one another. But the true opposite of death is pleasure, as (how it was back then) after death there could be no more pleasure, and death was as far from pleasure as one could be.

This did not stop the two of them from spending time together. They spent more time in each others’ company than they did with the other gods, despite claiming to hate each other. They often fought, and as sisters their fights were all the more intense, but so was it when they made love. It was not uncommon for the gods to make love with their rivals as animosity quickly breeds passion, but all were envious of the passion of Sayobi and Katsana. Many nights they would fill the sky with hours on end of moans and cries and the sounds of each others’ names, made all the better by Sayobi’s inherent domain over the experience. But both sisters knew that by having sex, they weren’t subduing their rivalry, but rather strengthening it. Katsana was playing into Sayobi’s domain, so she knew there was but one thing to do: to smooth the rivalry out and bring balance to the two of them once and for all, she had to kill her sister.

Katsana made all the preparations and invited her sister to a grand field in the nation of Caedis. She waited under the stars from her sister to arrive, her heart pounding in anticipation. She held a curved knife behind her back, adjusting her grip every few moments as nervous sweat threatened her grip. Soon enough, she knew, Sayobi would crest the hills and come meet her one final time. The thought of driving the knife into her sister’s warm flesh, seeing the shock on her face and feeling the blood pour from her… as the goddess of death, the thought excited her like no fantasy she’d ever had before. She realized with a start she was growing hard beneath her panties, and a slight smile crept across her face. Her body slowly tensed, warmth spreading in her abdomen as her body prepared for what it knew was coming soon.

Soon enough, Sayobi arrived. Her pink hair flowed slowly as if underwater, her divine aura making her just as radiant and beautiful as the moon above her. Something about Sayobi made it so the other gods would do anything to make her happy, gladly throwing themselves at her feet and doing anything she asked. Her presence was so commanding that she could easily be the queen of the gods, and it was only because she didn’t want to be on the throne that she hadn’t long since been ruling the world. Just seeing her strutting across the plain, one leg planted confidently in front of the other, was almost enough to make Katsana reconsider her plan. Almost.

“Why have you invited me here, sister?” Sayobi asked Katsana when she reached her, looking past her sister at the countless stars above. “This field is gorgeous, but it’s rather cold, and I’d much prefer that whatever you want to do happen somewhere more comfortable.”

“Sayobi, could you be patient for once in your life?” Katsana said, running her free hand up her sister’s arm. Sayobi instinctively stepped a bit closer, nodding. As soon as Katsana’s cold fingers touched her skin images of their bodies entwined began to fly through her mind. If Katsana was after a romantic night under the stars… Sayobi could deliver. Even as much as she loathed her sister, she always enjoys warming up that deathly cold body of hers.

“Fine, say what you’re going to say. I’ll give you the honour of my attention for a moment, but make it quick. I have more business to attend to than just spending time with someone I despise.” Sayobi rolled her eyes, making her exasperation known. Of course she’d love to make her sister scream her name, feel her body tense from orgasm after orgasm as she moved her fingers and tongue dexterously across her body, but Katsana could at least get on with it.

Katsana’s fingers gripped tight around her sister’s upper arm and forced Sayobi against her, Sayobi grunting as their bodies slammed together. Sayobi’s warmth seeped into her body, and for a moment she just had to close her eyes and savor it. It would be the last time, of course. In an instant their faces were millimeters apart, a slight smirk on her lips as she pressed them against Sayobi’s neck. Sayobi exhaled softly, wrapping her arms tenderly around Katsana’s back. “Sister, if you simply wanted sex, you should have said so from the beginning. Don’t play these games with me.”

That drew a dry chuckle from Katsana’s mouth. She drew her tongue slowly up Sayobi’s neck, eliciting a loud moan from her sister. Her neck was always her weak spot, and Katsana knew that with just a few nibbles and licks she could bring her sister to her knees. Sayobi was already turned on, she could tell. She sucked on the supple flesh, leaving a red mark, the kind Sayobi was extremely familiar with. But this was not the most permanent mark she’d leave on her sister tonight.

Subtly, slowly, she moved the blade from behind her back to out behind her sister’s. Moonlight glinted off the blade, silver for the moment but soon to be dripping golden red with ichor.

“I’m not only going to fuck you tonight, Sayobi. I’m going to kill you.”

By the time she finished the sentence, the knife was already in Sayobi’s back.

Sayobi’s eyes went wide, a moan cut off and leaving her silently agape. This pain was nothing a god had ever imagined experiencing. No god had ever even died before; a tacit rule of the divine rivalries was that to avoid tossing the world into chaos, none would kill the other. Her knees went weak; at first it simply felt like she had been punched, but blood pooled across her back in time with the tears welling in her eyes and she almost lost control of her body. She tried to fall to the ground, but Katsana kept her on her feet with a strong arm wrapped around her back. Sayobi chuckled weakly, but cut herself off by coughing up blood, staining her lips irrevocably golden red.

Katana pressed her lips against her sister’s, running her tongue across Sayobi’s lower lip like she’d done countless times before. The taste of ichor coated her tongue and she let out a deep moan into her sister’s mouth, letting her tongue slip past the lips into her mouth.

Sayobi’s tongue responded in turn, running across Katsana’s eagerly. Katsana could feel a smile growing on Sayobi’s lips as they began to make out, and pulled away in confusion. Sayobi’s eyes were half-lidded, but Katsana was uncertain if it was pain or pleasure they were fogged with.

“I expected you to fight back, Sayobi. Or at least sit there and whimper and cry as I fucked you until the life drained from you, then fucked you long after the life was gone. Why do you kiss me like we’re still lovers?” Katsana asked, moving her arm to brace her by the neck and keep their eyes locked.

Sayobi laughed again, a stronger sound than the weak chuckle from before. “What good would fighting back do? You’re the goddess of death. I couldn’t escape this fate if I enlisted all the other gods. Besides, you stabbed me in the lung; I’m dying already. But I’m the goddess of pleasure; if I must die, it will be on my terms. I’ve converted my pain into a much more familiar feeling. I’m getting off to this now. So please, Katsana. Kill me. Slowly bleed me out, choke me, hurt me, tear me limb from limb. I want to die here in your arms, killed by your violent fury. I couldn’t imagine something that would feel better. Go ahead, feel me. You’ll see I’m not lying.”

She grabbed Katsana’s free hand and guided it beneath her skirt. She closed her eyes with a blissful grin crossing her face as Katsana ran a finger up her pussy, pressing the lips to the side ever so slightly to feel exactly what Sayobi implored her to feel. Katana drew her hand out from the skirt and stood Sayobi back on her feet. She wordlessly nodded, reached behind her, and twisted the knife.

Initially it still felt like pain. But as it spread like lightning across her body it melted into pleasure, coursing through her like waves in the ocean. Her hips jerked involuntarily.

“Aaagkh~!! K-Katsana,” she cried out, more ichor flying from her mouth. “Make it slow…” She knew she could take a lot of punishment from her sister. Gods weren’t immortal, by this point she was well aware of that, but her heart beat ever faster and her body wasn’t growing cold yet; she could go for a long time.

“Slow?” Katsana asked with a smirk, her tongue finding its way to Sayobi’s earlobe. She nibbled on it slowly, pondering what her sister was offering. “Did you not just say you wanted to die?” Her voice was a low whisper, the threat of overwhelming pleasure inherent in every word. Her hands ran down Sayobi’s body, wondering what she should do next.

“I—” Sayobi began, but Katsana slapped her across the face with all her strength. Any mortal’s neck would have snapped instantly; Sayobi merely moaned involuntarily, blushing at the response.


“Quiet. I’ll do this on my own terms. Say anything but my name again and I’ll tear your tongue from your mouth.”

An enticing offer. But Sayobi wanted to be able to call for her sister a bit longer, so she bit her tongue, lest Katsana do that for her.

Katsana realized there was so much she wanted to do, but so many of them would make it so she could never try the others. What a shame she could only kill her sister once. She pressed her knee between Sayobi’s legs and grinded it slowly, pressing her lips to her sister’s again to get a taste of what was to come. Her sister was impatient, and she knew this foreplay was driving her mad with the desire for more pain. You can only have a knife in your back so long before it gets boring.

And so after a few minutes she pulled away, blood and drool clinging to her tongue. She stepped back from Sayobi, looked her up and down for a moment, and shoved her down. She screamed in shock and hit the ground hard, the knife hitting the ground before her body and driving deeper into her. With a spurt of ichor the blade pierced all the way through her body, and Sayobi’s scream of shock became one of unadulterated pleasure almost instantly. Her thighs quivered, and she blushed as she realized she was cumming almost entirely untouched. Perhaps she overdid the transfer of sensations a bit. Then Katsana was straddling her, pulling off her skirt and lifting her back off the ground, extricating the knife from her back. Ichor pooled from the wound, soaking the grass and steaming in the cold night air. She gripped Sayobi’s chin and pressed her thumb between her lips, pulling her mouth open. She pressed the knife to Sayobi’s tongue, forcing her to lick it clean.

“Careful, dear sister~” Katsana purred. When the knife was clean she pressed it to Sayobi’s top, slicing the fabric and letting it fall to either side, exposing the ample chest it contained. A few beads of blood welled where she had sliced; she’d pressed a bit too hard, but that just makes it more fun for both of them.

Sayobi reached for Katsana, palming her sister’s bulge. The goddess naturally had a pussy like her own, but as the patron of pleasure she could change that at will, and often gave Katsana a cock when they made love. She had done so last time, and never changed it back; this final time, she was more than willing to have fun with her sister’s cock. “Fuck me, sister. Fill me with your seed as I die.”

Katsana purred at the hand on her cock, but her expression hardened to stone. “I told you I wanted to hear nothing but my name from you,” she said, and sliced her panties off in a flash. Her cock flopped out, pulsing and already dripping with precum, and she grabbed her sister by the neck. “Now I have to silence you.”

She grabbed Sayobi’s hair and pressed the head of her cock to her lips, waiting for her to open them. Diligently she obeyed, and Katsana thrust into Sayobi’s throat. Normally she would start slow and work towards ramming her entire length down her sister’s throat, but this was a punishment and should work as such.

Sayobi gagged almost instantly, a wet gurgle escaping from her throat as Katsana’s hips thrusted back and forth above her face. Meanwhile, Katsana felt her way down Sayobi’s body with her free hand, stopping just below her belly button. As Sayobi’s body slowly began to call out for air she wondered what Katsana’s plan was; was she going to finger her as Sayobi choked on her cock? But then the knife dug into her abdomen and tore slowly through her flesh, and she felt the cold air against a part of her body she never thought would be exposed to the open air. Instantly, she was cumming again; her body rocked beneath Katsana and her hips bucking like a trapped animal. The second orgasm was always more intense than the first for her, even as her one working lung began to pound against her chest for air. Her fingers were growing cold, but she couldn’t tell if it was from blood loss or lack of air; either way, she could feel Katsana’s cock throbbing down her throat and barely had the energy to focus on much more than that.

Just as her eyes were beginning to droop and her body threatened to lose consciousness, Katsana let out an uncharacteristic moan, let Sayobi’s name fall from her lips, and pulled her bloody shaft from her sister’s throat and came all over her face. The warm cum mixed with the ichor on her face and formed a cocktail that Katsana was quick to lick up, leaving both of them panting and messy and breathily begging for one another.

“K-Katsana~~” Sayobi moaned between coughs and gasps, her body drinking up the air like it didn’t realize it wanted to die.

Katsana, still hard, slid back down Sayobi’s body, down to the gaping wound that was painting Sayobi’s lower body with slick ichor.

“You’ve cum twice just from the wounds I’ve given you, so let’s see what would happen if I dug deeper inside you, hmm?” She asked, grinding her cock against Sayobi’s waiting pussy and curling one finger at a time around the wound. Without warning she thrusted inside Sayobi, and at the same time plunged her hand into the wound. Sayobi cried out in overwhelming pleasure, so enraptured that she found it cycled back around to pain. She was dying, surely, and she was loved it more than life.

Katsana thrusted quickly, at the same rough pace as before, feeling Sayobi’s body react to each small movement of her hand inside her guts. Her intestines spilled out of the wound, displaced by her hand, and her free hand dropped the knife in favour of groping at Sayobi’s breasts.

Sayobi tightened around Katsana’s cock as she grew closer to yet another orgasm, the cold creeping up her arms and legs as her ichor stained the grass around her a dark, almost black shade of gold.

Katsana knew her sister well, and Sayobi knew hers well too. In just a few moments they were cumming in time with one another, the erratic tightening of Sayobi’s pussy complimenting the throbbing pumps of Katsana’s divine cock. But this cock was gifted to Katsana by the goddess of pleasure, and neither of them were going to stop after just a few orgasms. She was having the most exquisite time of her life, but Katsana needed more, so her hand fell from her sister’s breast and grabbed the knife. Sayobi only barely registered this fact, but knew one thing for certain: she was going to lose count of how many times she came before she finally slipped into the cold embrace of her sister’s domain.

The knife, sharper than anything a human could forge, sliced cleanly through Sayobi’s right arm, cleaving the bone like it was a bird’s hollow bone. Sayobi’s throat was raw at this point, and the only warmth left in her body was her sister’s seed filling her up by degrees, as well as the frantic beating of her heart. “FU~CK!” she cried, what ichor remained in her spurting from the stump of as her severed arm spasmed on the ground.

“Ah, what a shame, sister,” Katsana grunted out between thrusts. “How I wanted your last word to be my name.” She sighed and stretched her arm upwards to Sayobi’s mouth.

“K-Katsana!” She cried hurriedly, and the knife tore through her cheek. Katsana came again, and Sayobi was almost certain this was the last time she would feel her sister fill her up. The blade sliced her tongue off easily, and Katsana withdrew the blade. She could feel her sister dying more and more each time she came, and she knew she had to make these next few moments a fitting end to both the night and her sister’s eternal life. Now elbow deep within her sister’s guts she found the goddess’s heart, wrapping her hand around it slowly constricting each beat. The sensation was alien to Sayobi, her brain unsure how to even process the feeling, but it knew one avenue to handle it: she began to orgasm, harder yet than the half dozen or so before, and it didn’t stop. She tried to cry out, to moan, to make any noise, but only the gurgle of the ichor filling her throat met Katsana’s ears. She was bleeding out, drowning, choking to death, and losing her heartbeat all at once; she was dying four times over in this moment. The goddess of death sure knew what she was doing.

Katsana slowed her thrusts as she came yet again, her sister’s womb now brimming with her endless supply of seed.

“I never truly hated you, Sayobi. I always loved you more than anything else in this world. I couldn’t be happier that you found pleasure and solace in death. I’ll make certain that the humans can continue to find pleasure without you.” She smiled down at her sister, her heart now almost entirely still in her grip. She raised the knife one last time and brought it down on her throat, cleaving easily into the flesh and nearly decapitating her in one clean motion. Sayobi’s weak point was always her neck.


Katsana pulled out of her sister’s pussy and looked at her battered, torn, desecrated corpse. There was still much she could do with it. She lowered herself back down and spread her cheeks, slipping into the other hole. As snow began to fall around her, she made love to her late sister until Sayobi’s body was as cold as her own.

He licked his lips for reasons he couldn't explain. The texture, shape, and color of those two objects made his stomach stir. This couldn't be happening, could it? Brian continued staring down at the two flip-flopped feet in front of him. He became mesmerized when she flashed a glimpse of her young, immaculate sole. It cried out to him, begged him. "No, he thought to myself. What's wrong with me?" He glanced at the perfectly tanned tops and the dark painted toes. There wasn't a single flaw or blemish anywhere on these 21-year-old feet.

Her name was Jenna. She was a conceited, wealthy sorority girl who majored in marketing. She had always treated him like dirt, and used men. She was widely known as "the bitchy one" by her classmates, but she was beautiful. She was slender with tan skin, dark brown hair, brown eyes, and perfect legs. Typically she rejected all but the best-looking, wealthiest, and most self-centered males. Jenna was the kind of girl who didn't deserve to have such nice feet.

"No, not at all," Brian thought to himself while staring at those two perfect feet propped underneath the chair in front of him. The soft wrinkles of her creamy white soles exposed as she removed her foot from her flip-flop and crunched her cute little toes. He imagined what it'd feel like to be holding those two feet in his hands, freshly severed from their owner, her face crying in pain, sheer shock and disgust. He could do whatever he wanted with them, hell, even eat them. Yes, eat them. Mmmm.

Brian licked his lips and came up with a plan to get those feet off Jenna's legs and onto his dinner plate.

He continued to stare at them, his mind racing. Jenna sat at her desk, her luscious smooth soles bringing odd sexual urges that Brian had never felt before. They really were flawless soles, so creamy white and so soft looking. The pinkish tan line at the sides made them all the more beautiful. Each toe was a work of art, long, but perfectly proportioned and descending in size from big to little. Each ended in a plump, juicy head with a nice dark nail polish from a fresh pedicure. Her arches were high and heels perfectly round, almost like she never walked on them. There wasn't a callous anywhere. How she made it to this age with such unblemished feet was hard to believe. He swallowed hard as Jenna moved her feet back into her flip-flops. The show was over.

After class, Brian went home to his girlfriend, Leah, who happened to be one of Jenna's sorority sisters. She was attractive, but did not have quite the intense sex appeal that Jenna had. She was a good lay though, that was for sure. Brian really liked her personality too. She was smart and very open with him. He couldn't really ask for much better. For whatever reason, he decided to ask Leah if she knew Jenna.

"Do you hang out with Jenna much?"

"Oh God no, she is SUCH a bitch! I hate her," Leah quickly responded.

It was an odd reaction, but Brian decided to dig deeper. "Yeah, I kind of figured that. I have a class with her and she seems really stuck up and mean. I get the impression she hates everyone not as lucky as her and thinks she walks on water."

"Oh yea, that's Jenna alright. She thinks she's God's gift to men. She's a huge slut too. I can't believe how many guys she has slept with. She's probably the biggest slut in my sorority."

"Well, she is pretty," Brian continued.

"Oh, not you too?!" Leah countered. "God, every guy is always hitting on her. It really gets to her head. I agree she's pretty, but when you're that big of a slutty bitch, nothing can make up for it."

"Oh yeah, I would never date someone like that!" Brian commented. "It's just I can see why guys like her. She's got a nice body too. She seems to take care of herself."

"If by take care, you mean constant pedicures and manicures, and tanning booths, you're right." Leah started laughing. "She probably spends more money on that than schoolbooks! She's obsessed with keeping her hands and feet looking good. One chip in her toenail, and she has the pledges do a full pedicure!"

Brian imagined those perfect feet and got a little aroused. "Man, that's horrible!"

"I know, right? The pledges all hate her. They literally have to wait hand and foot on her. I did too when I pledged. I spent so much time down at her feet it made me sick!" Leah seemed riled up and full of resentment. "I always had to paint her toenails like a little slave! Fucking whore!"

Brian couldn't believe the anger coming out of Leah. Sure, Jenna was horribly mean to him in class, but it wouldn't ever get to him that much. His earlier daydreams were just fantasy. He didn't actually want to hurt her or anything. It sounded like his girlfriend did.

"I'd love to get that bitch back. She always borrows my stuff without asking too. Ever since I moved into the house, Jenna has just gotten worse and worse." Leah continued until Brian grabbed a couple of beers and they started drinking before the night out on the town.

"Jeez Leah, sorry I brought it up. Let's just have some fun tonight."

The night wore on and they got drunk and partied. They met up with some friends, and then later retreated back to Brian's place for more drinking. The next morning they had a wicked hangover.

"Jesus, it's 10am, I got to go to class!" Brian jumped out of bed and nudged Leah, who was still sound asleep and ignoring him. She moaned and turned over. She probably wouldn't be making it to class.

Brian threw on some clothes as fast as he could and literally ran to his class. He got there ten minutes late, which no doubt would peeve the professor who always got mad if anyone was more than five minutes late. Surprisingly, as he walked in, it wasn't the professor who made an issue of it, but Jenna.

"Are you kidding me, Brian?" Jenna laughed, obviously trying to kiss the professor's ass. "Fail him for the semester!"

"God, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be late." Brian fumbled his words as the professor looked up at him.

"Brian, you know my policy. What's your excuse?"

Brian couldn't think anything up and just blurted out the truth, "I went out drinking last night."

"I appreciate your honesty, but from now on, show a little responsibility." The professor seemed like he was going to let it slide this time.

Jenna on the other hand couldn't let it go. Brian sat down behind Jenna in his usual seat and she turned back and glared at him with her pretty brown eyes. "You are pathetic, Brian. Probably out with my ugly bitch sorority sister, Leah, right? Fucking loser."

Brian couldn't believe how mean Jenna was. "You are horrible, Jenna. And don't give me any shit. I see you out drunk all the time on weeknights. You came in late yesterday!"

"I can do whatever I want. Every professor at this college wants me."

Sadly, Brian knew she was right. It was horrible how girls like Jenna skated by on their looks, but it was the way things were at this university. Brian was really starting to hate this girl.

After he was done with classes, Brian came back to his apartment to find Leah crying. "What's wrong, baby?" Brian asked.

"Jenna stole my favorite shirt and lost it at a guy's house. It cost $80 and I don't have the money to replace it. You know my parents aren't rich like hers. Why does she keep doing this to me? I've done nothing to her."

Brian put his arm around her and comforted her. He knew Jenna just was a horrible person deep down with a very inflated ego. She was a classic spoiled rich girl who didn't identify with anyone who had to work hard for their place in life.

"Have you ever thought of getting back at her?" Brian asked. He wanted to get back at her too for all her insults.

"I want nothing more in this world." Leah replied, a burst of energy filling up inside her. "She has done nothing but insult me and talk shit about me since the day we met."

"What if we did something to scare her so much that she would never bother us again?" Brian was thinking back to all those images of her beautiful size 8 feet displayed in flip-flops every day in class. She always dressed the same with jeans and those beautiful feet on display in all their glory.

"It's about time, Brian!" Leah exclaimed. "Let's get her good! I mean really hurt her!" Leah had an evil glint in her eye.

Brian had found his partner in crime, but he still had some second guesses. He never had hurt anyone before, not even hit anyone before. He was a nice guy, but he knew he had to stand up for his girlfriend. And he couldn't lie to himself. He desperately wanted to feel those feet.

"You said that Jenna always likes to make the pledges give her pedicures. Maybe we can give her a pedicure she'll never forget." Brian swallowed hard, starting to contemplate the full implications of what he was proposing.

Leah smiled, "I'd love to."

And so it was set. Brian and Leah hashed out their plans over drinks. Leah knew Jenna's every move. They'd get her on one of her drunken stupors around town. Brian knew of a house that was currently vacant that had a basement that would be perfect for hiding Jenna. Tonight would be the night.

Leah knew Jenna was a attending a party and then bars, then maybe another party or going home with a guy. Leah and Brian stayed up late drinking and tracked her whereabouts. Leah had gone to all the same parties and bars as Jenna and relayed the information to Brian. She told him to be ready for Jenna at 3am on the far side of town.

Sure enough, Brian caught a glimpse of Jenna leaving a house where it looked like a party was going on. He couldn't help but notice she was wearing flip-flips. He could hear the little pitter patter of her walking on the pavement. As she got some distance from the house, he ran out and drugged her. She screamed a little but was out cold in seconds. Than Leah came out of the house and walked up the street.

"God, I hope no one heard her," Brian gasped, panting nervously about what he just did. "You sure you want to do this?" Brian held up Jenna's limp unconscious body and noticed one of her flip-flops fell off. He slipped it back on her foot, making sure to let his hand graze across the underside. He couldn't believe how soft and smooth it was.

"No one heard anything. They're all wasted. Let's get her to the house."

Brian and Leah carried Jenna two blocks before they came upon the vacant house. The door was locked. "Dammit, Leah, let's just leave her here and forget about this. We're doing something illegal here. We can't just kidnap her like this. If we stop now, we'll be fine. She won't be able to identify us."

Leah looked disgusted. "Quit being such a pussy. It was your idea." Leah was obviously drunk, slurring her speech as she spoke. Brian had a lot to drink too that night, but he could tell he wasn't as drunk as Leah. But both of them were in no condition to be making such reckless decisions.

"C'mon, Leah, just think about this. This is really wrong." Brian set down Jenna on the front porch and started to walk away. "Don't be dumb. This isn't worth it."

Drunkenly, Leah broke out a window on the front door of the house with a piece of wood lying on the porch. She opened up the creaking door, and started to drag Jenna inside, struggling to get her legs in the doorway. "Help me, dammit!" Leah gasped.

Brian had to make a quick decision. Either he went back and helped his girlfriend, or he walked away, and who knows what would happen to Jenna. Judging by how much Leah drank, Brian knew she was not going to make any smart decisions that night. She looked like an animal claiming its prey. Brian hesitated, but figured he was already in too deep. If anything happened to Jenna, he was at least partly responsible. Maybe he could convince his girlfriend to go easy on her.

Brian reluctantly walked back up the porch and picked up Jenna's feet. He couldn't help but notice how warm and soft they were. The glossy painted toes gleamed in the moonlight. One of the feet brushed his groin, and he actually got an erection. Leah grabbed Jenna's arms and started heading into the house. She drunkenly made it to the basement door. Together, they carried Jenna down the stairs and set her down on a table in the middle of the room. They grabbed some rope and tied her wrists and ankles down. Jenna didn't move. She was still unconscious.

Leah went back upstairs to shut the front door of the house and door to the basement. She drunkenly stumbled down the stairs. "Let's get that bitch, Jenna!" She burped loudly.

"Leah, I can't do this." Brian realized how drunk he was. He wasn't thinking straight. This whole thing was a very bad idea.

"You're fucking doing this Brian, or I'll tell the cops it was all you. You're a terrible boyfriend."

Leah looked down at Jenna and started stroking her lush brown hair. She ran her hands over her breasts, then down her stomach. She continued down her legs, squeezing them through the jeans, and then made it down to her ankles. She let her fingers graze over the tops of Jenna's feet and pinched her toes. She then slid her fingers underneath her flip-flops and rubbed them along the soles, making sure to feel Jenna's arches and heels. She pulled them out and grinned at Brian.

Brian glanced at Jenna to look for any reaction. There was none. She was really out cold. He didn't know what to do. There was his girlfriend standing there with the most diabolical look on her face, and there was Jenna lying helpless to do anything.

Leah grabbed Brian's hand and put it atop Jenna's left foot. "Take off her flip-flops. I want to see her bare feet."

Brian did as he was told and slid off Jenna's flip-flops, revealing the immaculate, creamy white soles of her feet. They were so smooth, she probably just had them pedicured that day. Brian ran his hand over the arch of Jenna's left foot, feeling its perfect contours and then stopping at the butter soft, fleshy round heel. He played with each meaty toe before stepping back trying to stop himself from going any further. But the primitive feelings inside his stomach were coming back. Despite his resistance, his mouth started to water. The soles of Jenna's feet looked like two fine pieces of meat. Her feet would be delicious. He felt a mix of arousal and hunger.

"I think it's time to give Jenna a pedicure," Leah grinned while pulling out a bookbag. She unzipped it and inside were various knives and cutting utensils.

Brian had a sinking feeling in his stomach. "Leah, let's just think about this for a second." He noticed Jenna start to wake.

Leah took out a marker, rolled up Jenna's jeans, and drew a line around both of her slender, nicely tanned ankles.

Jenna blinked and glanced down at the end of the table. "What the hell?"

Leah got excited. She wanted Jenna to be awake for this. Leah started tickling the bottoms of Jenna's perfect peds. Jenna started to wiggle her toes and flex her arches in protest. "Where am I?"

Jenna noticed she was tied down tight and couldn't move. She got a glimpse of Leah. "Oh my God," she gasped with a shiver of fear trembling down her spine and through her beautiful bare feet. She then noticed Brian, who at this point looked nuts. "Oh Jesus, what the fuck is going on?!"

Brian started to talk, but Leah interrupted him, "Hi Jenna, it's going to be a long night, my little slut. I've got big plans for you."

Truthfully, Brian wasn't sure what these plans were, because they never actually discussed them beforehand. This was one drunken disaster unfolding before his eyes. There was no turning back now. Jenna identified them both. Plus, in his drunkeness, he was getting pretty hungry.

"You fucking ugly losers! Untie me!" Jenna yelled. "What the hell are you doing?!" Jenna noticed the lines drawn around her ankles, and that the bottoms of her jeans were rolled up. She didn't know what to think of it, but it really creeped her out.

Leah started tickling her bare feet. "You sure do love making pledges give you pedicures, don't you Jenna?" Leah felt her stomach stir. "I'm hungry, how about you Brian?"

Brian stared at Jenna's luscious soles. "Yeah, sure am."

"Do you think anything is open? It's getting pretty late?"

"Doubt it. We're gonna have to think of something else. I thought maybe Jenna's feet would do."

Jenna looked stunned and froze in terror. "Oh my God, untie me Leah! Get me away from this creepy fucking loser!"

Leah just smiled and bent down at the end of the table. She stuck out her tongue and started running it along Jenna's smooth soles, swirling it in her arches and sticking it between each of her juicy toes. She even started to nibble on the soft heels. Leah went to town on both of the high arched wonders. Jenna knew she was doomed.

"Yeah, Brian, I think Jenna's feet will do."

Brian decided to go in and lick them too. He sucked on her large big toe that was just begging to be eaten. He started to bite into the base as Jenna let out a scream.

"Oh my God you sick fuck, let me go! Do you have any idea what you're doing?!"

Leah looked into her bookbag and started pulling out all the knives. "How are we going to get through those ankles of yours, Jenna? I mean, we're going to have to cut off your feet before we can eat them, right?"

Jenna whimpered in fear. "Leah, I know you've had a lot to drink, but just stop and think about this. I'm sorry I've been so mean to you. Just don't cut off my feet!"

Leah pulled out a large serrated knife and set it on the table. "I'm starving, Brian! Jenna's feet look so tasty! Just look at those delicious soles and tan lines! I bet there's some good meat in those tootsies!" Leah started poking into her fleshy soles, which just further sent Jenna into a writhing frenzy.

Brian couldn't believe his eyes. It turned out his girlfriend had all the same desires he did. His mouth was watering just watching his girlfriend feeling up Jenna's helpless bare feet. No matter how hard she tried, Jenna could not escape Leah's grasp. Leah picked up the knife and handed it to Brian. He wanted him to be the one who did it.

"I don't think I've got the strength for a foot amputation. Why don't you do me a favor and cut off both of her feet for me, hey honey?"

Jenna couldn't believe her ears. "Help, please God, somebody help me! Ah!! They're going to cut of my feet! Oh my God, they're psycho! Somebody, anybody, help me!!!!!"

Brian walked down to her terror-stricken face and whispered in her ear. "No one can hear you, Jenna. Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you. I'm just going to cut off your feet and eat them."

Jenna tried with all her might to break free from her bonds as Brian walked down to her left foot. He grabbed it tightly around the arch and squeezed hard, pushing her heel into the wood. Then it came. The first cut caused worse screams than Brian had ever heard in his life. It was like nothing he had experienced before. She was shaking violently on the table screaming her head off as he continued cutting into her ankle.

"Ahhhhhhhhh! Nooooooooo! Oh God!!!! Stop!!!!!!! Please God! Stop!!!!!!"

Tears were pouring out of her eyes. Blood was pouring profusely from the wound. Brian had to readjust his grip since so much blood now covered her foot and made it slippery. He felt her toes twitch and arch spasm as he wrapped his hand around her midsole. Then he continued cutting. The knife went deeper and deeper into the bone. The pain Jenna was feeling was beyond comprehension. Her screams just grew louder and more desperate as her entire face was coated with tears.

Leah had to leave the room. She couldn't take Jenna's screams. Despite how drunk she was, it turned out it was too much for her to handle.

Soon, Jenna's left foot stopped moving. The knife was over halfway through the ankle. Brian could feel the life leave Jenna's foot. He again wrapped his fingers around the arch and pushed down onto the table. Jenna's screams never stopped as the sawing continued. Eventually, he reached the other side of the bone, and with a few quick strokes, severed her achilles tendon. The foot fell off in his hand. He set it down on the table and examined himself. He was covered in her blood.

Jenna was moaning in extreme pain and complete shock at what had just happened. Her foot was really just amputated like something out of horror film. Her leg ended in nothing but a stump. The bottom of her pant leg was completely soaked in blood. Through the tears in her eyes, she could see her severed foot lying at the end of the table in a pool of blood. The pretty toes were freshly painted, but blood trickled off the tips of them. She got sick to her stomach upon seeing the ankle bone and raggedy flesh where her foot used to attach to her leg.

Leah came back into the room, and looked around nervously. Brian just shrugged his shoulders. Leah walked to the end of the table and looked at Jenna's pain-torn face. She had never seen a look of despair like that before. She was crying and moaning like there was no tomorrow.

Leah picked up the severed foot, wrapping her hand around the arch. Fresh blood oozed between her fingers. It was still warm. She glanced at the pedicured toes, completely lifeless. She looked over the creamy white sole, which now had blood stains on it. Then she gazed over the tan top, which was nearly covered in blood. Jenna's foot was now just a piece of meat. "It's heavier than I thought it would be."

"Yeah, I know." Brian wiped his bloody hands on his shirt. Jenna stared into his eyes. She had the look of total shock.

Brian took the foot from Leah, marveling at how soft and warm it still was. He licked some blood off the sole. "Mmm, not bad. Try it, Leah."

Leah grabbed the foot and started sucking the toes, cleaning all the blood off of them and the top of the foot. Soon, she worked her tongue around the ball of the foot and heel. The tan top of the foot still had great color, and once the blood was off of the sole, it too was still fresh and creamy white in color.

Jenna was barely conscious at this point, ready to pass out from blood loss and shock. Her painful moans started to quiet a bit. The blood loss from her ankle was slowing, but it was clear she was not in good shape.

Brian and Leah continued to play with Jenna's severed foot without a care in the world. Brian unzipped his pants. "I wonder what it would feel like on my dick?"

He lowered Jenna's severed foot onto the head of his erect penis. He let the toes brush across the top and soon started rubbing his dick over the high arch of the foot. It felt wonderful. It was smoother and softer than anything he ever felt on his penis before. Eventually, he worked his way to the incredibly soft heel, thrusting into the soft flesh. He started running the size 8 appendage up and down his shaft, letting the toes curl over the head. Soon he came all over the sole of the foot.

Leah looked shocked. "Wow, I guess you like Jenna's feet more than just dinner items."

Brian took the cum covered foot and brought it up to Jenna's horrified face.

"No, please, no, take me to a hospital, please God!" Jenna cried. "My foot! Oh my God, what did you did to my foot!"

Brian bent down and whispered into her ear. "If you lick it clean, I won't cut off your other foot."

Jenna started crying uncontrollably as Brian ran the sole of her severed foot over her lips, his cum coating her face. "Please don't do this!" Jenna tried shaking again, but had little strength because of all the blood loss. She turned her head to the side as Brian grabbed her jaw and jerked her head back.

"C'mon, you slut, lick your sexy little foot clean."

Leah started laughing as Jenna's tongue lapped along the smooth underside of her amputated foot. It was a ridiculous sight. Brian shoved the toes of of the severed foot into Jenna's mouth. She wrapped her tongue around her big toe while crying. She sucked it clean and moved onto the next. This continued until all the cum was off of the toes. Then she stuck her tongue into her arch, lapping up all the cum, making sure it was spotless.

"C'mon slut, that's not good enough. We need this clean enough to eat! We're starving!"

Jenna kept crying and started lapping up the cum off the soft heel of her severed appendage. Within a few more minutes, her severed foot was spotless, but covered in her saliva.

Jenna kept crying, "Please get me some help!" She could tell by the look in Brian's eye that the night was still young.

Brian took Jenna's amputated foot and set it back down at the end of the table. "Jenna, Jenna, Jenna," he laughed while running his fingers up and down the sole of her right foot, marveling at its texture. "Hmmm, I don't think one size 8 is going to big enough for the two of us. We might need some more meat!"

Jenna's eyes opened wide. Not only had she just experienced the nightmare of a lifetime having her left foot amputated by these sickos, but they now were planning to cut off her other foot. "You promised you wouldn't!" Jenna cried to no avail. "Please, get me to a hospital! I'm begging you! Stop this! Don't cut off my other foot!" Jenna trashed violently, trying to escape the table, her footless left leg banging against the wood.

"Sorry, Jenna, I guess I lied. I appreciate you cleaning your foot, but this tootsie has a date with the oven too!"

Brian grabbed the knife and gripped Jenna's right foot in his hand. As soon as he ripped into the delicate ankle, Jenna's screams once again got out of control. Her voice was cracking up from all the earlier screaming.

"I can't take it!" Leah yelled while watching Brian saw into Jenna's slender ankle. Blood was flying out of the wound. "Her screaming, I can't take it!"

Brian was in another world as he continued cutting off Jenna's right foot. It convulsed and writhed in his hand like prey trying to escape its impending doom. The toes flexed and spasmed as each cut brought Brian closer to his prize. He loved the feeling of Jenna's helpless foot in his hand.

The screams just grew louder and louder, even worse than before. Jenna glanced down at the torture scene. The knife was deep into her ankle and blood kept flying up her pant leg. Some even got on her face. The tears kept rolling out until she had no more tears left. Brian smiled at Jenna and kept sawing and sawing like a woodsman immersed in his craft. Leah's stomach churned as the drunken hunger became too much to bear.

"Hurry up Brian, I'm starving! Cut off that slut's foot!"

Jenna knew it was almost over. She started to lose her bearings. The pain was just unbearable as the knife continued its descent into her ankle bone. Soon, she no longer could feel her foot at all. The knife was all the way through the bone and Brian severed the achilles tendon.

Her moans grew more desperate as she feared she was going to slip away.

"Just ignore her, Brian," Leah said as she walked up to the table and picked up the freshly severed right foot of Jenna. She licked the warm sole and sucked on the pretty painted toes.

"God, Jenna's feet are going to be so delicious." Leah couldn't contain her excitement. Brian felt himself getting aroused again. "Here you go, baby. I want Jenna to watch. The slut can watch what we do with her sexy little feet."

Leah unzipped Brian's pants and took out his dick. She grabbed both of Jenna's severed feet and wrapped them around his shaft. "Feel good, baby?" Leah asked while glancing back to laugh at Jenna. "Hey Jenna, look at your feet!"

Jenna was moaning and whimpering from the pain of just having both her feet chopped off. She glanced towards Leah then looked down to see her severed feet used as sex toys. She could see the blood-soaked footless ends of her jeans at the end of the table, and beyond that, both of her amputated feet stroking off Brian's erect cock.

Brian shuddered in pleasure as the unbelievable soft soles of Jenna's now amputated feet worked their way up and down his shaft. The soft, beautiful toes rubbed against the head of his penis, and butter soft heels pushed against his balls. Leah adjusted the severed feet and placed Brian's dick between the high arches. This aroused Brian further.

Jenna just kept crying while watching this horror show unfold with what used to be her beautiful feet. They were now just two pieces of meat that were being used in some sort of sick sexual act. "Why?" Jenna whimpered. The pain was still unbearable, but seeing her severed feet used in such a debased manner just made things worse.

"She could've been a foot model with such perfect feet. Well, I guess could've been before tonight, haha," Brian said as the soft, creamy white soles worked their way up his penis. Leah was now rubbing them all over, making sure he felt every inch of those flawless feet one last time before their journey into the oven. He eventually came all over both of Jenna's amputated feet.

"Should we let Jenna play with her feet again?" Brian asked, looking at Leah with desire.

"Naw, I'll take care of it this time. I want to enjoy them before we eat them." Leah grabbed both of Jenna's severed feet and starting lapping up the cum on the soles. She sucked the toes dry and ran her tongue in circles around the supple heels.

Jenna just kept crying, and crying. "You sick fucks, get me to a hospital. Please. Oh, my feet," she whimpered.

Leah ignored her and continued to enjoy her beautiful tan feet. She even sucked a little blood from where the ankles used to attach to Jenna's legs. "Hmmm, Jenna, I'm sorry, but we're keeping you around. Don't you want to watch us enjoy our meal? You're staying put you little slut. You're going to watch us dine on your beautiful feet.

Jenna kept crying and asked them to kill her. "Please, please, just end it. I'm in so much pain. How could you do this to me?" Her moans grew louder as she writhed and trembled, looking in horror at her severed feet being held in Leah's hands.

"We said we weren't going to kill you Jenna. Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be fine. It's not like people liked you for your feet, right?"

Brian and Leah walked upstairs to the kitchen of the house. They realized how drunk they still were as the climbed the stairs. As they reached the kitchen, they turned on the oven. "Hey, still works!" Leah exclaimed.

Brian started going through the cupboards looking for seasonings and a baking dish. He found what he needed. Leah set Jenna's feet down on the counter and helped Brian prepare a rub. They found some lemons, cut them up, and put them to the side. Brian threw some oregano and basil into a bowl. He lightly tossed Jenna's feet in it, making sure the soft, tender soles got a good amount. He then grabbed a jar of honey he found. "How about some sweet feet, Leah?"

Leah smiled. "Honey will go great with Jenna's feet." Brian set both feet soles up into the large baking dish and drizzled honey and lemon all over them. He rubbed it over the soles, toes, heels, and tan tops of Jenna's feet. He made sure to get the sides and tan lines too. The oven was soon ready, and Leah smiled.

"Let's put them in, and bake them rare. I can't wait any longer, plus I'm sure feet as perfect as Jenna's don't need much cooking."

"Honestly, Leah, I used to look at her feet and think how good they might taste, even raw. I can't believe we're actually going to eat them for real." Brian burped, tasting the beer from earlier.

"I am so hungry," Leah continued, as her mouth started to water. The sweet, aromatic smell of Jenna's baking feet filled the air. "Hey, we didn't have a choice. Everything is closed and we had to eat something, right?"

Brian nodded, and opened up the oven. A incredibly sweet smelling steam filled the kitchen air. Brian salivated as he looked at the lightly cooked soles of Jenna's incredible feet. They were still creamy white in color, but it was obvious the honey and seasoning had worked its way into the soft meat. The toes glistened as foot juices pooled in the baking dish. Leah stuck her finger in the foot juices, and licked it. "Oh my God, this is incredible."

Brian grabbed a plate and lifted out both of the hot feet. They kept their shape as well as their color. The tops stayed tan and the soles stayed creamy white with light pinkish tan lines at the sides. He placed them both soles up on the plate and drizzled the honey foot juices over the mouth-watering soles. "Show time."

Leah smiled and opened the door to the basement. She grabbed two chairs and started taking them downstairs. Brian followed with both of Jenna's cooked feet lying soles up on the plate. He went down the stairs and greeted Jenna. "Wow, fifteen minutes, Jenna. Your feet cooked up real nice real fast. Let's take a seat, shall we?"

Brian walked to the end of the table where Jenna's head was. Jenna looked in terror at the sight. On the plate were both of her pretty feet lying soles up in a pool of foot juices like two pieces of rarely cooked meat. It was a horrifying sight, and she started crying uncontrollably again. "Please, please, what is wrong with you?" The tears poured out of her beautiful eyes, streaming down her striking face.

Leah grabbed a knife and fork and sat down next to Brian. "I want to watch her cry while we eat." Leah took her fork and pierced the big toe on one of the feet. She then sawed it off with her knife. She popped it in her mouth and looked shocked. Juices exploded from the incredibly tender meat and rolled down her chin. Brian moved in to lick it off. Leah started to chew the soft flesh and swallowed hard. "Oh my God, Jenna, I don't know what you did to your feet, but these are just incredible! I've never tasted anything like this! It's so sweet and tender!"

Brian couldn't wait any longer. He sliced off a hunk of arch meat from the same foot and stuck it in his mouth. Words could not describe the flavor explosion he experienced. The sweetness and texture was unlike any other meat he had eaten before. It was so soft, it practically melted in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed the delicate sole meat, and continued to cut off a hunk from the ball of the foot. He didn't think it would be as tender since Jenna put her dainty weight on it as she walked to and from class, but he was wrong. Another flavor explosion filled his mouth with delight.

Jenna was crying harder now. "Please God, oh please God, help me," she whimpered. "My feet! My poor feet!" Tears kept streaming down her pretty face.

Leah decided it was time to try what she had wanted to eat more than anything, Jenna's immaculate, pedicured heels. "I spent so much time making sure Jenna's feet didn't have a callous or blemish on them. She has softer heels than a teenager." Leah pierced the round heel of Jenna's half-eaten foot and sliced out of a large hunk of juicy meat. She stuck it in her mouth and her eyes light up in surprise. "Wow, maybe even better than her big toe!" The heel meat was some of the juiciest and most well-marbled. Rich foot juices flowed out of her mouth as she leaned over Jenna's face, making sure to let some of the juices land on Jenna's lips. "Sorry Jenna, just thought you might want to try some of your feet."

Brian cut off Jenna's second toe and pierced it with his fork. He lifted it up and ran it over Jenna's lips. "Eat up, bitch."

Jenna clamped her mouth shut, but it was no use. Brian shoved the toe into her mouth. She immediately spit it out while crying. Brian leaned in over her lips and clenched it between his teeth, letting his tongue rub all over Jenna's face. He chewed loudly and spit out the bone. "Wow, Leah, these toes are incredible. They taste different from the arch and ball of the foot, but still great in their own way. I've got to try some of Jenna's heel meat."

Leah sliced another hunk of heel meat from Jenna's now mostly eaten left foot. Brian's reaction was the same as Leah's, sheer shock and satisfaction. "Just incredible. It's as good as the arch meat. That's just incredible since Jenna put more weight on this than any other part of her feet. I figured it would be less tender, but I was wrong." Juices flowed out of Brian's mouth as he savored each luscious bite of Jenna's foot meat.

Jenna continued to cry and moan in pain.

"Well, I guess all those pedicures finally paid off!" Leah laughed as she finished slicing off the toes of Jenna's left foot. She ate two and gave the baby toe to Brian. Brian shoved it in his mouth. It was small, but the meat was incredibly tender. Still, he wondered what the big toe was like. He looked down at the right foot and his mouth watered in anticipation. Jenna had large big toes that were perfectly shaped.

Leah finished off the sole meat on Jenna's left foot. All that remained were skeletal remains. As she was chewing in delight, Brian started cutting off Jenna's other big toe. He picked the severed digit up between his fingers and stuck it in his mouth. The flesh on the pad of the toe was just as soft as he could have imagined. It was even softer than the arches and heels. He lightly chewed as the tender meat fell apart in his mouth. He pulled out the bone with his fingers and dropped it on the table.

Leah got to work on the arch of the right foot. She sliced out a mouth-watering hunk of meat. She brought the fork to her face and took a few small bites. Her face exploded. The sole meat was just incredibly tender and textured. It had a little more flavor than the heels or big toe, but Leah couldn't decide which part was better. "Jenna, every part of your feet is just exquisite. I never knew something could taste this good."

Jenna whimpered as she noticed her right foot was now half gone as Brian took out another large hunk of her sole. She wanted out of this nightmare, but it was clear they wanted her to continue to suffer. It was bad enough they cut off her feet, but now they were devouring them right in front of her eyes. There was no point in asking for any help. It would be over soon enough.

Brian and Leah continued to eat the meat from Jenna's right foot until it was nothing but bones and ligaments. They just had the best meal of their lives. Every one of Jenna's toes was a tender morsel fit for a king. Jenna's soles were a work of culinary art. Jenna's heels were beyond comprehension in flavor and texture. Overall, Jenna's feet were a meal that would never be topped.

Brian and Leah walked home and went to bed, still drunk, but no longer hungry. Hours later, Brian woke up with a bad hangover, not remembering much from the night before.

"Leah, you're not going to believe this, but I had the most horrible nightmare. You know that Jenna girl? I dreamed we kidnapped her and ate her feet! Isn't that crazy?"

Leah rolled over, "dreamed?"

Brian glanced at the floor of the room and noticed two flip-flops that didn't look familiar. They kind of looked like the ones he'd seen Jenna wear to class...

Wow, gurochan! Good to see it again!

I was hoping some of my favorite stories had been reposted here but I don't see them. There were three, I think all by the same author though I could be wrong. They were all novel length/quality

First, I think was entitled "Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars". You might be able to guess why this is hard to search for. It was about a guy slowly murdering another guy. I remember a few details but not much.

Next was about a Nazi doctor and a teenager(?) in nazi Germany

And the third and my favorite was a sci fi with a futuristic/space setting. The dominant was named Oberon and had cool robot eyes.

I remember a bunch of random details from them but nothing that i could use to find them. Hoping someone has copies and/or knows who the author is.

Thanks!

Gun Game

Image Left: Alexa O'Bannon, age 32, Season 5 champion.

Mike cracked open a cold can of beer, leaned back in his chair and hit play on the match highlights. The final season 5 match of "Gun Game", the show about prison convicts, adrenaline junkies, and the desperately destitute throwing their lives on the line for a chance at fame, fortune and freedom had just finished airing. He had thrown a couple bucks on a wager with Robbie, his buddy that the favored champion of the season, Alexa O'Bannon would be defeated by the dark horse, Charlotte Samson, and he had a hunch he would collect. As the theme music played, he took a sip from his can and relaxed in his seat.


Charlotte reached into her vest pocket and grabbed the last magazine, slamming it into her locked open Desert Eagle and slingshotting the slide shut. She stepped over the spread eagled corpse of Rashida Elwood, the ebony queen of the SVD. Now, she was simply another limp body with three .50AE sized holes in between her perky tits, blood and pink froth bubbling out between her glossy, full lips.

Peering out of the doorway, Charlotte scanned the office, and cautiously sidled out into the mess of cubicles and beige PC boxes. The battle arena was quiet now, save for the moans and gurgles of the dying. The busty 23 year old single mother from Boston glanced at her watch. There was only 4 more minutes left before the match ended, and if she didn't kill the last opponent, the explosive charge surgically embedded in her head would be detonated. She wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her combat shirt. Shit, 4 minutes with only a single opponent alive? She'd faced worse odds before.

The first bullet struck Charlotte in the lower back, severing her spinal column and instantly crippling her from the waist down. With a pained cry, she fell to the ground, dropping her gun in the process.

"W-wha-?"

Blood flecked her lips as she sputtered in shock and agony. She felt something hot and wet seep into her shirt, and knew without looking that it was her own life fluid.

Charlotte dragged herself forward, grasping for her gun when a combat boot kicked it out of reach. The paralyzed woman raised her head and looked up at her opponent.

Alexa O'Bannon was a thick, muscular redhead, standing 6'8" and weighing 235lbs. Her weapon of choice was a Marlin lever action chambered in .45-70 Government, which she had outfitted with a chunky silencer. "You're done, kid", she rasped in her deep, husky voice as she stood over her opponent. Her foot stomped hard on Charlottes firm abdomen. The wounded woman vomited. The taste of blood and puke mixed together in Charlottes mouth in a particularly unpleasant mix of acidic sourness and metallic warmth. She knew there was no way out now but in a body bag, her limp corpse to be cleaned out and put on display along with the rest of the season's losers.

Alexa threw her lever action over her shoulder, picked up the Desert Eagle, dropped the magazine and racked the slide to eject the round in the chamber. She got to her knees and grabbed Charlotte by her short cropped platinum blonde hair. The younger woman grimaced in pain.

"I like to give my sponsors a good entertaining finisher", the ginger amazon whispered. Her other hand reached down and unsheathed a karambit. She placed the tip of the curved blade against Charlotte's pulsating throat. Alexa stared into the doomed woman's eyes, drinking in the fear radiating from them. With a theatrical flourish, Alexa ripped open a 3 inch deep gash into her victim's neck.

Charlotte convulsed, her hands shooting up to desperately stem the sudden flow of pressurized blood spraying out onto the office carpet. Alexa held on to Charlotte's head, keeping it raised up for the cameras. Admirably, Charlotte held on to life for two more minutes, progressively growing paler and paler as her blood drained out onto the floor. Finally, her hands dropped from her throat, and her eyes closed.
A final raspy exhalation signaled the end of Charlotte Samson's 23 years of existence.

Alexa released her hold on Charlotte's head, letting it drop to the floor with a thud. She looked at her watch, and smiled. She finished the season with exactly a minute to spare, and now had her whole life, and many millions of dollars ahead of her.

Mike threw his empty can of beer into the garbage bin and cursed. "Dumb ass bitch had zero situational awareness, just wandered out into the open like the retarded bimbo she was. Fuck you!", he vented at the monitor.

Sorry I've not continued any of my existing stories today but this one popped into my head this morning and wanted to be told. Just a little, self contained one but it adds a little world-building background to the others :-)

Big Screen Sidney

As the theme music began to play and the continuity announcer advised viewers not to go away as the next program was coming up shortly, Brian picked up the remote and began to channel-hop, looking for something else suitably mind-numbing to occupy him. It had been a very long day at work and the pizza he had ordered was taking its sweet time arriving. Massaging his aching temple with one hand, he skipped past a sitcom he had always detested, various news and weather programs, an action movie he had seen at least a dozen times before and part of a documentary about fungus in the Amazon rain forest before something caught his attention.

The screen showed a young girl, no more than twelve or thirteen years old, stark naked apart from white leather cowboy boots and a rhinestone-bedazzled white Stetson. Her curly, golden-blonde hair and professional makeup gave her the look of a beauty-pageant queen. Her over-all look was iconic and he recognised her almost immediately as Sidney Roebuck – the remarkable young girl who had campaigned for the right to be eaten and therefore given the gift of cannibalism, now a multi-billion dollar industry, to the modern world. Yet something was off. He had seen archive footage of her TV interviews many times before yet here her face looked a little different. Then he noticed that the presenter she was happily chatting to was a contemporary face who would not even have been born until a few years after Sidney’s death. Curious, Brian turned up the volume to hear what they were saying and set down the remote.

“So I think what makes this movie unique among the many biopics of Sidney there have been over the years,” the interviewer was saying, “is that, correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe this is the first to be both written and directed by a woman?”

“That’s right!” The young girl nodded, crossing her legs and resting her hands on her knee. “Ava really wanted to show a different perspective on the character. It’s far too easy to see Sidney as the ultimate victim of predatory, male-dominated society that sees women and girls as prey for successful men. She was, after all, a young girl who showed off her body and eventually gave it up for others to literally consume all under the watchful eye of her father who was a multi-billionaire and the very definition of successful by society’s standards. But,” Brian couldn’t help thinking her round young face was even prettier when she was being earnest than when she was smiling her rather artificial Hollywood grin, “Ava wanted to make the point that she can, in many ways, be seen as the ultimate feminist icon! After all, Feminism has long been about women taking back control of their bodies and how could anyone have more body autonomy than Sidney and the girls who have followed her?”

“Well, Amber,” the host nodded, “that’s a really good point! What do you suppose will really make this interpretation of the story stand out for audiences? Other than you’re performance of course?” The naked young actress flashed him a dazzling smile to acknowledge the compliment.

“I think the big difference is that this movie really is about Sidney herself, rather than the people around her. I watched two or three while researching this roll and they all seemed to focus on her father or her agent and the rest of her team while she felt more like a side character. This story is told very much from her perspective.”

“So it sounds like a very big role for someone your age to take on?” The host observed.

“It sure was!” The actress, who was apparently named Amber, exclaimed in a southern accent so like the real Sidney’s. Brian could not help admiring what perfect casting choice she seemed to be – her looks, voice and mannerisms were all so similar to what he has seen of the real Sidney that, were it not for the very recognisable host, he could easily be persuaded he was watching decades-old archive footage. “One heck of a challenge but I’d go back home or to my hotel room every night and sleep like a baby!”

“Had you done much acting before?”

“Lots at school,” Amber explained, smiling at the happy memories, “and I’d done a couple of commercials for local TV but nothing like this before. No proper TV shows or movies.”

“So this really was a big break for you!” The host grinned. “And do you have any more roles lined up off the back of this? I imagine once the rest of the industry sees your performance you’ll be in quite high demand!”

“Well ain’t that a shame!” She through back her golden head and laughed. “I’m not going to be around much longer. My next and final roll is dinner after the premiere next week!”

“Oh I see!” The host looked a little taken aback. “So after you’ve walked the red carpet and watched the movie, the crew and your fellow cast members will be enjoying your meat?”

“They sure will!” Amber grinned, apparently as excited by this as the fact that she was the star of a major Hollywood movie. “Once the credits are done rolling it will be off to the kitchen and onto the spit with me!”

“So you really are following in Sidney’s footsteps?”

“Yes, Sir! I sure am!” beamed Amber. “Wasn’t in the contract but while we were filming it started to seem like the only respectful thing to do. Like I owed it to her if I was going to do her story justice.”

“So you volunteered for this?” The host clarified.

“Yes, Sir. I did.” the young girl grinned. “I don’t want to give too much away about the movie but I don’t think it’s a major spoiler to say it ends just before Sidney’s final moments, in the room with the butcher and the few witnesses. By giving my body to my friends who helped make this movie, I feel like I’m bringing the story to a proper conclusion.”

“Well that’s very commendable!” Smiled the host, warmly, “And I’m sure you’ll be delicious! So,” he turned to look straight into the camera, “That’s ‘My Name is Sidney’ on general release from the twenty eighth of this month. I know I can’t wait to see it! Ladies and gentlemen,” he held out an arm to indicate his young guest, “Amber Crawford!” There was wild cheering and applause from the studio audience as Amber, wearing nothing but her hat, boots and smile, stood up, took a bow then walked off the stage, waving and blowing kisses as she went.

Brian chuckled to himself. The next guest was not particularly interesting to him so he resumed his channel-hopping. But at least now he had firm plans for the end of the month!

This is my Secret Desire serie, that follows a family with special fetchies, they like bondage and some more extreme plays.
Focus on the females in the story.

You can find the pdf versions for free on my blog, with the including 3d images. Also of course my other work (3D videos and 3D Images) https://warningmrfriendlys.blogspot.com/

Tags are only for the first two episodes that I will post now.
Tag: Lesbian, Bondage, Cannibalism, Snuff, Asphyxiation, Incest

I started back on this story, and since the original post had a lot of spelling and grammatical issues, I decided to start a new thread for it. I imagine that the grammar and spelling will not be perfect, but they should be far better. Anyway, this is meant to be a work of fiction, and The Vice Dark Lord does not condone any of the illegal actions performed within the story. Do not let this influence you to hurt someone else. With that out of the way please enjoy the story.

Verse 1]
x3 nuzzles, pounces on you, uwu you so warm
Couldn't help but notice your bulge from across the floor
Nuzzles your necky wecky-tilde murr-tilde, hehe
Unzips your baggy ass pants, oof baby you so musky
Take me home, pet me, and make me yours and don't forget to stuff me
See me wag my widdle baby tail all for your buldgy-wuldgy
Kissies and lickies your neck
I hope daddy likies
Nuzzles and wuzzles your chest
I be gettin’ thirsty

Hey, I got a little itch, you think you can help me?
Only seven inches long, uwu, please adopt me
Paws on your buldge as I lick my lips (UwU, punish me please)
'Bout to hit 'em with this furry shit
he don't see it comin'

This is my first attempt at writing a short story so please bare with me. I welcome comments and constructive criticism, never can learn to much. Hope everyone enjoys. Hopefully more to come soon.

I stood suspended in the dark. Cries could be heard all around me. The smell of death and bodily fluids permeated the air. I was a slave taken when I was young and grew up in my masters service. By no means ugly but far to plain to be used for any other means than to be worked. I had seen many other girls used viciously and was glad not to have been treated the same. But upon my 19th birthday I ran wanting to taste freedom again. Soon caught and hauled back I now found myself facing a most terrible fate.

I could still feel the wetness on my cheeks where my tears had fallen. I had cried for hours and now there was no more. Though fear still welled up inside me a calm had also taken a hold. I had accepted that soon i was to die. A loud cheer from the crowed above me signaled that i was soon to meet my fate. A couple of large guards Came into my cell and took me down from where i was hanging by the wrists from a beam feet still firmly on the ground. I was half dragged and half walked guided by the guards up a flight of steps to a large arch. I had been standing all day and my legs felt stiff and week.

As i was marched through the arch i was blinded by the bright light of a sunny day. I closed my eyes and turned my head. Soon my eyes adjusted enough to see the large arena surrounded by a huge crowed of people. They erupted into a great din seeing me led out naked as the day i was born. I looked to the instrument of my doom and the great fear returned. I lost all control of my legs and struggled in vain. The guards just dragged me forward. There in the middle of the arena was a wooden chair like device. I was to be garroted.

I was roughly sat down my hand affixed behind he to the post. My feet tied to the t-beam below me. A rope around my neck bound me tight by the windpipe. I stared up at the sky, the lovely blue and light clouds filled my mind. A bird flew past i couldn't help but notice how it dipped and dived around. I was just barely aware the someone was speaking but did not really understand the words. Then the loop around my throat tightened.

Surprised by the pain and the fire spreading through my lungs my body strained with every muscle against my restrains. I could feel my eyes bulging, spasms race though me. I can not describe the pain and fear I felt at that moment. After what seemed like an eternity, mussels aching strained with effort I heard a sicking crunch as the rope crushed my airway. Intense pain and the darkness. Fading i heard the crowd cheer one more time then all faded to black.

Chapter 1
Sarah was sitting on her bed frantically trying to find a costume for the Halloween ball in her school. She was thinking about it for hours not, but still didn’t find anything that made her feel excited about it. Of course, finding costumes was easy and she certainly liked a lot, but her goal was not simply wearing it. She wanted to be elected as the Halloween Queen after all. Therefore, she would need a costume that would flash the audience.

She almost decided on giving up as she stumbled over a costume that caught her attention. ‘Living corpse’. She clicked on it and a new site opened with a short description of it and next to it a picture of a model. She really liked it and figured it would be the perfect costume for her, though after reading the description she got frustrated again. She would need utensils she hadn’t gotten and as the ball was tonight there was no time to wait for an order.

Frustrated, she closed her laptop and threw it in front of her bed. It seemed like she wouldn’t even go to the ball. She grabbed her phone to tell her best friend Alex that she wouldn’t come tonight, when she glanced at the door. She had pinned a lot of pictured on it, but also some motivational lines. One said “Life is pain, so live it up while you can.”

She stared at it not knowing why it caused such a strong feeling in her. She needed a bit to get behind it. Everything that had been mentioned in the description of the costume – fake tits that were cut off in the middle and which could be put over your real breasts, a fake cervix you could attach to your belly making it look like as if it was hanging out and fake intestines – she had everything. It just meant that she would have to endure pain. A lot. Though was it worth it?

She basically would destroy her own body, possibly even killing herself just to become the Halloween Ball Queen. Something she had wished to become for her whole life as it meant that she was popular, which she, in all honest, hadn’t been so far. She spent a couple of minutes thinking about it, but eventually got to the conclusion that she would do it. She had gotten the opportunity, now she wouldn’t miss it. She would live up to it.

She put everything what she needed into a bag and then cut some holes in a top where she figured she would do the cuts. Of course, she intended them to be seen, which meant that she also would expose her big tits to the whole school. Well. Half of them.

20 minutes later her best friend Alex rang the bell. She had used the time to write a farewell letter to her parents and her three sisters Amelia, Jackie and Yvonne where she explained everything to them in case she didn’t make it out alive.

She then ran out and hugged her best friend as welcome before they sat down into his car. “Where is your Halloween costume?”, he asked. “You don’t intend to go to school… like this do you..?” he said teasingly before starting the engine. She softly smirked “Of course not, dummy.. I will put it on at the toilet rooms..” He looked at her once before heading off to the school. “What will it be?” he asked curiously, though she just replied “Be patient.. you will see… believe me it will flash you… it will flash all of you..”

Once again he glanced at her. “Oh, a mystery..” he laughs. He had appeared as Dracula, which wasn’t any bit surprising to her. He loved the movies.

About fifteen minutes later he parked the car on a parking slot and they headed out together. Other pupils were gathering in small groups already while others were heading towards the hall. On the way she heard a shout behind them and when turning around they faced Inga. Another good friend of them. Obviously, she was a zombie. “Heey.” Sarah smiled and hugged her feeling how their breasts mashed against each other. Sarah laughed when Inga asked the very same question like Alex “Nooo, I have my costume inside here..” she pointed at her bag. Even though it wasn’t entirely trough, it was fitting enough to make her not lie. “Just be patient..” she added before Inga could ask what it was. Inga just replied “That’s very strange… but intriguing..”

They entered the hall together. Whilst both of them would go into the hall itself, Sarah would turn right to head towards the toilets. They agreed to meet at the bar.

On the way towards the toilets she got some skeptical looks as she wasn’t wearing a costume, but of course that would change in a bit.

5 minutes later she closed the door of a cabin behind her and locked herself in. She put the bag onto the ground and put everything she needed onto the toilet seat. She took a deep breath and then stripped out of her top until she was completely naked. She carelessly threw the piece of clothing over the toilet and then put on the prepared top.

She looked down at her tits. Apparently, she was excited despite what she was about to do. At least, her stiff nipples told it her. She gently cupped her breasts and groped them as she wouldn’t be able to do that anymore soon. She closed her eyes enjoying the feeling as shivers ran down her spine. The touch alone let her getting aroused.

Eventually, she took a deep breath. There was no use pushing it further back. Soon you would have to sign up for the competition anyway. She grabbed the kitchen knife and cupped her left breast. She put the knife against her breast, though then hesitated. Did she really want to do it? She gulped, closed her eyes and then took another deep breath and thought at the quote again. When opening her eyes again, she looked at her chest.

As she wanted it to look perfectly, it was hard to say where she should cut into her breast. Too close to her areola or too close to her chest both might ruin the look, so she had to find the perfect spot. Either she could do it by luck or better, or worse depending on how you looked at it, she had to start closer to the areola slowly cutting more and more off until she was satisfied. Less was more…

If she found the right spot on one breast, she easily could apply it to the other. “I can do it..” she whispered and moved her hand to her nipple and shudderingly pulled her breast at it. She then put the knife against her breast once again where her areola met her tit.

She then started cutting into her breast and bit hardly onto her teeth as she softly winced in pain. “Shiit.” She panted as she stopped. A small of line of blood started to flow down her breast. She had anticipated that it was painful, but it was worse than she had thought.

After a moment, she refocused and started cutting again. She kept whimpering in pain, but didn’t stop this time. The knife bit deeper and deeper into her breast and her nipple slowly peeled away from her chest along the areola.

More and more blood started flowing down her chest. Eventually, her nipple gave away and she suddenly was holding it in her hand. Her eyes widened a bit and she could see how it lost its stiffness. She glanced down at her chest. It looked surreal seeing her left breast without nipple and rather a reddish and yellowish circle.

Moreover, her breast looked misshapen now. One last time she glanced at her nipple before she let it drop into the toilet. As her breast rather looked ugly now, she moved the knife shivering to her bleeding breast again. As she couldn’t hold her breast at her nipple anymore, she grabbed it at the underside to stabilize it.

Then she cut into her breast again. The pain was a bit more bearable now, still she hissed and panted as she kept slowly cutting into her breast. The knife peeled more and more off of her once beautiful breast.

After about twenty seconds of cutting, the slice of her tit meat came off and she led it drop into the toilet before she could take a look at it. Her breast was aching and pain and a slow blood stream was flowing down her belly.

Though she still wasn’t really satisfied with the outcome. One more cut and it should be fine, she hoped. She took a deep breath and repeated the process. This time she cut off a bit of a thinner slice. Her whimpers echoed through the room and before long she could hear a female voice asking “Everything alright there?”

Sarah winced surprised and almost cut wrongly into her chest. “I am f-fine..” she panted. The girl seemed to think if she really was, but then seemed that there was no use in pushing the matter. “As you say…” she replied and then Sarah heard her stepping into one of the cabins.

She couldn’t wait though and so she repeated cutting into her breast until the last slice came off as well. As she looked down she could see that about half of her breast was missing now and finally she was satisfied.

A pained smile formed on her lips and she shudderingly moved the knife to her other breast using her half-debreasted one as measurement. Once again she grabbed her nipple and then started cutting into her breast. Under whimpers she watched the knife cutting into her tit meat. Up and down it moved biting deeper and deeper into her flesh with each movement. Slowly her breast was coming off until it just was attached to her chest at a thin line of skin. It didn’t take long until it was off completely and she lifted it up with morbid fascination. Blood and a bit of tit fat dropped out onto the ground.

Eventually, she let it drop into the toilet as well causing a ‘splash’-noise. Step one was done and she allowed herself to look at the outcome for a moment. Her breast-stumps were lifting up and down after each pant. It looked fascinating, but also shocking. She had loved her breasts. Now most of them were gone. At the same time she got excited as she wanted to see how the others would react to them. “Please don’t flop…” she panted.
It was time to move on. For step 2 she would have to be careful. One wrong movement could end her life too quickly and she clearly was determined to win the competition before dying. She waited a couple of more moments, so that the pain in her chest subdued a bit more to a bearable level before she moved the knife down between her bellybutton and her pubis.

She moved the tip to the left side of her belly and then took a deep breath once again. Then she pushed the tip of the knife into her body. She gasped as the pain stung hardly. It rubbed her breath and it felt like someone had kicked her into her belly. She pushed the knife one or two inches into her body and blood started leaking the freshly wound.

Before long she pulled the knife sideway. The knife easily ripped through her skin and her muscles and the incision quickly grew to a slit. Eventually, it reached a length of her hand and she pulled the knife away. Quivering, she put it onto the edge of the toilet and then moved both of her hands to her wound. She gritted her teeth as she pushed her fingers into her wound. Pain hit her and she hissed as she pushed her fingers deeper into her body looking for her womb.

Eventually, she found it and pulled at it until it gave away. She gasped as she pulled the upper part of her womb out until her ovaries shifted to her movements over her skin. Her fingers were soaked in blood.

Now one thing just was left and she grabbed the knife once again. She brought it up to her belly and positioned it about 5 cms to the left of her bellybutton. Whatever would happen next most likely decided her fate. One wrong cut or stab and she would die tonight. She still could survive, even though she sacrificed her tits for it.

Deep in her heart she knew that she wouldn’t make it out alive though. She took another deep breath and then pushed the knife into her belly. She gasped as it penetrated her skin and she pushed it a couple of centimeters into her belly before pulling it out again. She moved over to just holding it with her right hand as she came to the conclusion that it would be easier for her, if she made it quick.

Whimpers escaped her mouth and stars exploded in front of her eyes as she quickly stabbed herself five times in a row around her bellybutton. She didn’t know how deep her stabs had been, just that it hurt as hell. Her shirt slowly got soaked with blood. She hadn’t hit an artery. Good.

She almost was done. One more cut and more stab and she could head to the others. She moved her hand to the right side of her belly, where she had cut a small stripe off and positioned the bloody tip of the knife at her skin. She grimaced again as she pushed the tip into her and after a breath she began to make another incision that wasn’t too deep. It also just was a couple of centimeters long, but enough for a loop of her intestines to get pushed out and hang against her belly.

Finally, she put the knife against her bellybutton. With her final effort she rammed it deep into her belly. She screamed loudly as she could feel the knife shredding into her guts. As she had put a bit too much strength into it, the knife got buried into her belly up to the hilt. Though she had to anyway, so that it would stay in that position.

She was finally done. The worst was over. Now she just got to win. Shaking she turned around and opened the door to the toilet. She didn’t care about the mess she had made. There still were enough cabins and soon would get cleaned anyway.

As she stepped out she could see herself in the mirror. Her face was more pale than usual, but a smile formed on her lips as she saw the result. It looked shockingly stunning. Exactly as she had intended it to be. Her heart started to race in excitement as she opened the door and headed off to her friends. A competition was waiting for her.

Tails (hanging, cons, semi-cons)

"Please, can I hang you?", said 16-year-old Johnny to his best friend.
Jenny, being 16 herself, looked at him with wide eyes. "You mean like, all the way?"

"Well yes, I was told girls die very nicely when hanged. They dance and squirm and cum over and over again." He said.

"And I was told boys go even better." Said Jenny with a grin. "I hear they squirt and then they go limp. Tell you what: Why don't we flip a coin?"

"Winner hangs loser all the way?" Johnny smiled.

"Yes! God this is so exciting!" said Jenny.

"You're on!"

Jenny and Johnny had been friends for a long time. From time to time they used to play all kinds of games with each other. But Jenny had never let Johnny go all the way with her, preferring to torment him with vague promises about letting him take her virginity next time. They were on a bed, wearing casual clothes, doing nothing more than talking. When Johnny popped up that question from nowhere. They both knew they liked the idea of hanging, and they even did some roleplaying that involved air dancing with each other, but they were always careful to make sure nothing went wrong. This time it will be the other way around. Jenny was a tall redhead with nice curves. Her tits were just about the size of small oranges and she had nice puffy nipples. The kind that would turn rock hard nicely when hanged. Johnny didn't have to be ashamed either. Tall, a bit tanner, nice slim yet not skinny body, and had an average cock. Jenny was already familiar with his cock, having sucked him off quite a few times. If he hanged there would be two limp things dangling, Jenny thought.

"Wow, I can't believe we're doing this. My heart is about to pop out of my chest." Said Jenny while she took a coin from her purse. "But you must promise me, whatever happens, that we do it, even if it's my head in the noose, even if I chicken out and beg you to stop, and of course …", and now she had an even bigger grin, "if it's yours."

"Sure, let's get on with it." Said Johnny. "If it is me that has to hang you won't have any problems, a bets a bet after all. And I wouldn't miss the opportunity to hang you. One thing we leave to the loser - he or she can choose the location and method, but the rest is up to the winner. I have a good idea where I want to hang."

"Done." Said Jenny. "I choose heads - your head in the noose." She giggled.

"Ok, I'll have to take tails. Since I’m looking forward to watching your tail dance in the noose" Said Johnny as the coin was flipped.

There was a very long silence when the flipped coin was in Jenny's hands. They both looked at each other in a tense way. They both felt a bit choked even though there was nothing around their necks, yet. Then Jenny removed her hand.

It was tails.

"I can't believe it, I lost!" said Jenny feeling a bit light headed.

"I can't believe you’re going to hang me for real." Then she got a bit calmer and said "Well a bets a bet.”

Johnny looked at her excitedly. "Yes, yes it is." he grinning evilly, "I can’t wait to see you dance and squirm. And I’m sure you’ll cum up a storm at the end of your rope.”

"I hope so.” Jenny said, no longer feeling quite so sure of this turn of events.

Johnny sensing Jenny’s reservations ordered “Strip slut, the condemned shall die nude.” As Jenny stripped out of her clothes exposing her small, pert breasts Johnny noticed how hard her nipples already were, and knew that no matter what deep down Jenny wanted this. Once Jenny finished stripping Johnny admired her shaved cunt for a moment then roughly grabbed her, spun her around and pulled her arms behind her, binding them with a length of rope.

Once her hands where bound Johnny ran his hands over Jenny’s naked trembling body. Cupping her breast and pinching her nipples causing Jenny to squeak in surprise.
“I don’t think we’re quite ready for you to dance just yet.” Johnny informed her as his hand slid over her stomach over her shaved pubic mound and slipped into her wet slit. “You little slut, you are ready to cum aren’t you?”

“Yes!” Jenny moaned “Please master let me cum before you noose me.”
“Not just yet.” Johnny taunted. “If you want to cum you have to earn it. On your knees slut.”

“Yes master.” Jenny said demurely falling to her knees.

With Jenny on her knees Johnny quickly stripped and walked in front of Jenny. “You know what you have to do to earn your first orgasm of the night don’t you slut?”

Without a word Jenny eagerly wrapped her lips around Johnny’s cock swallowing it to the hilt.
As Jenny’s warm mouth enveloped his cock Johnny let out a moan. Grabbing Jenny’s head he began to rape her face mercilessly. Shortly he said “I’m about to cum slut and if you want yours you won’t spill a drop.”

Then with a groan Johnny slammed his cock all the way into Jenny’s throat as he began to cum.
Jenny suddenly unable to breath, and her throat filling with cum, began to struggle against Johnny’s grip. While valiantly swallowing as quickly as she could. Finally his orgasm finished Johnny roughly pushed Jenny off his cock, allowing her to collapse onto her side gasping for air.

Grabbing Jenny by her hair Johnny pulled her back to her knees and looking into her eyes he said “Well looks like you swallowed like a good girl, so I guess I’ll let you cum one last time before you dance.” Seeing the excitement in Jenny’s eyes, Johnny realized he was getting hard again just from the thoughts of tormenting his helpless former friend and decided to prolong her suffering. “If you beg for it appropriately that is.”

“Please master, your worthless slut begs you to allow her to feel pleasure once more before she dances to death for your amusement. Please Master, I want to feel a cock inside me just once before I die.” Jenny begged almost in tears.
Walking behind Jenny Johnny said

“Very well slut I’ll let you cum before you dance. But I think I should make sure you don’t forget about how your dance will feel while I let you cum.”

Jenny startled started to ask “Wha….” Which was choked off as Johnny wrapped a piece of rope tightly around her throat.

“Don’t worry you’ll still get to feel the noose once you cum.” And with that Johnny reached between Jenny’s legged and started to rub her clit.

Jenny running low on air and desperate to cum before she passed out began to writhe her hips into Johnny’s touch while simultaneously struggling against the ropes that harshly bound her wrists. As Johnny pulled the garrote tighter and rubbed her clit furiously Jenny finally had a massive orgasm and passed out. Releasing the garrote Johnny let her fall limply to the floor.

As Jenny regained consciousness she saw Johnny sitting on his bed watching her.

“Thank you master, that was the best orgasm of my life.” Jenny exclaimed.

“And the last one you’ll live through.” Johnny taunted. "The condemned will now choose where and how she will be hanged."

Realizing her life was about to end, Jenny swallowed nervously “Here in your room. We already have the hook we’ve played with in the past. And I want to be lifted into the air, so there is no drop and I’ll last as long as possible.”

“Very well slave.” Johnny said as he produce a much longer piece of rope and began to tie a noose. “I’ll make sure you last as long as possible.”

"Have you ever hanged anyone for real before?" asked Jenny.

"No I haven’t." he answered honestly, “But if this is as enjoyable as I hope it will be, I might see about hanging your sister next.”

The noose finished, and Johnny showed it to Jenny. He let it dangle in front of her face. “Soon this will be slowly tightened around your throat, strangling you until you finally die. I’m not sure if I’m more turned on by the thought of you enjoying your last dance, or changing your mind part way through.” Jenny’s eyes widened starting to regret the bet they had made.

"Alright slut, let me get the noose set up and then we can start you dancing.” Johnny told Jenny as he ran the noose through the hook in the ceiling and attached the free end to the electronic winch he had gotten the previous year to make his and Jenny’s play easier. Once he had the noose hanging about five feet off the floor he grabbed Jenny’s arm and pulled her to her feet and escorted her to the waiting noose.

"Everything is set, time for you to put on your lovely new necklace, it’s the last piece of jewelry you’ll ever need.” He said, slipping the noose over her head, and cinching the knot down behind her ear. Once the knot was in place he activated the winch lifting her onto her toes.

“Johnny, maybe… we…gasp… shouldn’t do this.” Jenny gasped feeling terror creep through her “I can call … my sister and…gasp… have her … come over, we can hang her… together instead.”

“No slut you made me promise we would go through with this no matter what. And seeing you with that noose around your neck, hands tied and completely helpless, I think I would have to let you go all the way bet or no. I have never been so hard in my life. Although I hope your sister is less willing. I think I’m going to rape her before she gets to dance.”

“Please Master… be gentle… with Annie before …you hang her.”

“Any last words slut?” Johnny asked.

“I am happy to… dance for you… master and hope…pant, gasp… my death brings you great pleasure. Although ….gasp…you can …glurk.” Jenny’s last words were cut off as Johnny activated the winch.

“Damn slut I don’t have all day to listen to you chatter.” Johnny taunted.

Jenny just dangled for a while and then started kicking and hip thrusting like she was trying to fuck someone for the first and last time. Johnny admired the struggling form of Jenny, her nubile young body pulled taunt by her own weight. Her nipples hard as rock and jutting out at him. Her legs kicking and spreading flashing her virginal cunt at him. Johnny smiled enjoying the site, and deciding that he was going to torment Jenny mercilessly until the end of her life.

Jenny was starting to make strange gurgling sounds, her face going red, and Johnny began to absentmindedly stroke his cock. Walking up to Jenny he grabbed her hips to hold her steady as he began to lick and suck her nipples, as his fingers played with her clit. Standing up Johnny Saw that he had Jenny at eye level so he leaned forward and whispered in her ear “Are you enjoying this as much as I am?” But only got some raspy gurgles as a reply.

Stepping back again Johnny decided to watch for a bit before enacting the rest of his plan for Jenny. Johnny could tell that her pain was intense but judging by how wet her pussy had been he was sure her pleasure was at least as intense. He knew that this was only the first of many hanging he would have to orchestrate.

The ringing in her ears was becoming louder and her vision was beginning to fade. And she realized she no longer wanted to do this she wanted down, she tried to beg Johnny with her eyes to let her down. But Johnny just stood there watching her kick and writhe in agony.

Jenny was kicking more fiercely now. And at the same time trying to rub her thighs together. She was so close she just had to cum once more before she went. Her beautiful face had tightened into a grimace, and turning red. She jerked her arms behind her back, fighting with all her strength, desperate to break the ropes binding her wrists, so she could relieve the tension on her neck. Johnny could see the stark terror in Jenny’s eyes and knew she regretted the bet, and even more regretted letting him bind her.

Johnny stroked his cock as Jenny continued to dance for him. Although she was beginning to slow down now. The lack of oxygen taking its toll. Then finally her orgasm hit and Jenny started convulsing in the noose with renewed vigor for a few moments. Then she relaxed with only occasionally gasps and twitches. Her mind overwhelmed from the powerful orgasm.

“I guess I should let you down now don’t you think?” He asked her. He wasn’t sure but he thought he saw Jenny nob her head in agreement. Hitting the switch Johnny lowered her to the ground.

The next thing Jenny knew was she was on the ground with Johnny leaning over her loosening the noose. She began to cough and take raspy gasps of air.
“Thank you, I thought you were going to let me die up there. It was terrifying.” Jenny gasped once she caught her breath.

“Oh you are going to die in the noose today Jenny. But I wanted this to last. So, I decided to let you catch your breath and regain your strength a bit. Then I’m going to pull you back up into the air, rape your virgin cunt and be inside of you when I finally let you strangle to death.” He told her.

“No, please. I can’t take any more.” Jenny begged breaking down into tears. “Please I don’t want to die. Rape me if it’ll make you feel better, but please Johnny don’t kill me. I love you, I thought you loved me.”

“I do love you Jenny, but I’m going to love feeling your cunt milk my cock during your death throws even more. I think it’s time we finish this don’t you?” Johnny asked as he reached down to pull Jenny onto her feet.

“Please I’ll do anything.”

“I’m going to lift you up, impale you on my cock, then I’ll tighten the noose. You should be able to support some of your weight if you wrap your legs around my waist.”
With that said Johnny easily picked up the petite Jenny, positioned the head of his cock at her untried sex. And then easily slid into her well lubed pussy, until he reached her hymen. “Wow Jenny, I really thought you’d been fucking around on me and were just teasing me with your virginity.” Johnny told her as he proceeded to savagely slam his cock the rest of the way into her cunt.

“AAAAHHH!” Jenny cried out. “Please, it hurts.”
“Does that hurt worse than the noose tight around your neck?” Johnny asked as he activated the winch.

Hearing the winch start all Jenny could do was whimper in terror as tears continued to roll down her face. And then gasp as the rope started to pull at her neck. Once Jenny started to have trouble breathing Johnny turned off the winch.

“I think this should tide you over for awhile.” Johnny said as he stared into Jenny’s terror filled eyes.
“Please….” Jenny gasped, as she began to move up and down on Johnny’s cock, although whether that was to alleviate the pressure or allow her to get herself off Johnny was unsure, and ultimately didn’t care.

After a few minutes of struggling against gravity Jenny suddenly stiffened, and began to shudder in the throws of yet another orgasm.
“I think it’s time now.” Johnny told the terrified girl as he stared at her face that was turning purple, and then grabbed her shoulders and began to pull her downward. Realization flashed in Jenny’s eyes as she began to struggle against the ropes binding her wrists, against Johnny’s body and the fate that ultimately awaited her. Slowly Jenny’s struggles weakened, until a final burst of desperation caused her to writhe against Johnny dramatically, finally allowing him to cum deep inside of her cunt. As his orgasm surged through him Johnny went weak in the knees and almost his full weight pulled down on Jenny’s shoulders. Once he finished Johnny pulled out of Jenny and stepped back.

“Damn still sort of alive. Well maybe I can hold out longer with Annie.” Johnny said as he noticed Jenny’s body beginning to rotate and her hands still clenching and unclenching. Stepping up to the limp girl Johnny laid his hand over her heart and could just barely detect a stuttering heart beat. Finally with a full body shudder Jenny went still and her bladder released.

“Damn it, I should have put down a tarp.” Johnny grumbled. “Well that was awesome Jenny.”

Grabbing Jenny’s phone Johnny sent Annie text.

“Hey Annie, I need you to help me with a surprise for Johnny, I need you to come to his house as soon as you can.”

“Sure Jenny, I should be able to make it over in about half an hour.”

“Awesome. That’ll work.” Johnny replied on Jenny’s phone, then went to go and grab some more rope, and a tarp this time.

Okay, last one for tonight. I'm always happier when I have a number of different projects to work on :-)

Pt 1

“What are you working on?” Mrs Marshall asked, looking at the computer screen over her husband’s shoulder. “Looks important from the way you’re frowning?”

“I was thinking about the idea the girls had for their birthday party,” her turned around and gave his wife an affectionate kiss. “Wanted to see if it was even possible.”

“What idea?” the young woman asked. “Oh wait, the cannibal thing?”

“That’s the one!” Mr Marshall replied with a grin.

“Oh right,” his wife frowned a little, “you don’t think they were serious about that, do you?”

“They sounded pretty serious.” her husband observed. “I guess we’d need to have another talk with them before we made any proper arrangements. But I wanted to see if it was even something that could be done, assuming they really wanted to, that is.”

“And can it? Mrs Marshall asked curiously, pulling a chair from the dining table and sitting down next to her husband to get a better look at the screen.

“Looks like it!” He brought one of the tabs to the front. It was a page from the official government website detailing the relevant laws. “It’s legal at least,” he observed, “there’s even a couple of restaurants that specialise it in. I was reading an article about it earlier. Seems they were started by some American businessman who has exclusive rights over there but British monopoly laws are a bit stricter so he couldn’t have that here. That means, technically, anyone who wants to can kill and cook little girls, as long as they’re the right age and they agree to it. All you need to do it fill in a form on the government site.” He clicked onto the relevant form to show her, it seemed fairly straight-forward and the only condition was that it was submitted at least forty eight hours before the planned slaughter.

“So, that’s good, I guess?” Mrs Marshall looked quizzically at her husband, hoping for some sort of guidance on how to feel about this discovery but, in truth, he was not sure either. “So how would we…?” She began, not quite able to finish the surreal sentence. It was okay as her husband knew her well enough to understand what he was asking.

“There’s a few places that rent out equipment for roasting whole pigs,” he explained, “should be suitable for doing to the girls on. If they want to go ahead, that is.”

“Yeah.” Mrs Marshall nodded, already picturing her twin daughters mounted on spits roasting to a delicious golden brown. “If they want to.”

“Their birthday’s not that far off.” Mr Marshall reminded his wife. “If we’re going to do this, we’d better start arranging stuff. I don’t know how many spits this company has to rent out and then there’s invitations to send out.”

“Yeah.” Mrs Marshall nodded slowly, still not sure how to feel about the idea of cooking and eating her young daughters. She knew the idea should have horrified her, that she should have wanted to do anything to protect them from such a fate yet there was something fascinating about the idea, something irresistibly captivating. “Why don’t we go talk to them?”

“Good idea.” Mr Marshall agreed, sliding his chair back away from the computer desk. “Do you suppose there’s even the tiniest chance they’re asleep already?” His wife glanced at her watch, noting that it was a little over an hour past the twins’ bedtime.

“Not a snowball in Hell’s!” she laughed and followed her husband up the stairs.

The Marshall twins, Hannah and Natasha, were less than a month away from their ninth birthday. Two days earlier, they had come home from school full of stories about explorers and cannibals that they had learned in school. After twenty minutes or so of excited chatter, they had told their mother that they wanted a cannibal-themed birthday party.

“What do you mean?” she has asked. “You want me to make the party food look like bits of people?” Before they even answered, she had started coming up with ideas based on Halloween party suggestions she had seen on Pinterest – hotdogs cut to look like human fingers, peeled lichee passed off as eyeballs, that sort of thing, but the girls’ answer had rather flummoxed her.

“No!” Natasha had giggled, “We want to be the party food!”

“That’s right!” Hannah had agreed enthusiastically. “We will be explorers and everyone else can cook and eat us!”

A little puzzled by this suggestion, Mrs Marshall had muttered something about having to ask their dad when he got home from work, then changed the subject. The girls had not brought up the topic since but their mum had kept her word and relayed the conversation to her husband. Like her, he could not deny finding the idea intriguing.

“Hey munchkins!” Mr Marshal gave a light knock on his daughters’ bedroom door as he pushed it open. The twins were both say up in bed, reading comics by the flash-lights on their phones as if that was somehow less conspicuous that simply leaving their reading lights on. Seeing their parents come in, the two pretty, chestnut-haired eight year-olds shoved their phones and the comics under their duvets and flung themselves onto their pillows, making comically unconvincing snoring sounds.

“Oh dear!” Mr Marshall spoke loudly and deliberately to his wife, trying his hardest not to laugh. “It looks like they’re asleep! And there was us really hoping they’d be awake so we could discuss their birthday party with them. Oh well, I guess they won’t mind if we just go to Pizza Hut again this year. I’ll send the invites out before I go to bed.”

“No!” Natasha sat bolt upright in bed.

“We’re awake!” Hannah exclaimed, sitting up and turning on her bedside light as if to confirm this. “We don’t want to go to Pizza Hut again this year!”

“Okay,” Mr Marshall chuckled, sitting down on the end of Hannah’s bed while Natasha switched her own reading light on and discretely tried to slide her phone onto her bedside cabinet as if she had not been using its flash-light to read by. “What do you want to do?”

This story rather shamelessly takes from a famous short story called "The Lottery", by Shirley Jackson.

Luck of the Draw



There's a place up north, a small farming community, isolated and still practising rituals from ancient memory. The old gods demanded more than simple prayer and the odd tidbit of bread and wine in order to bring fortune and prosperity.

The entire town had crowded into the high school auditorium that warm June afternoon. It was the day of the Lottery, when the adolescent sons and daughters of the villagers would place their little slips of paper with their names into a wooden box. The mayor would make a little speech, reach into the box and pick a slip. Whoever was chosen would then stand up from their seat, walk up onto the stage, and accept their fate. The methods would change year to year, always based on the words of the town holy man, the conduit between the mortal world and the heavens. Sometimes, the old gods would desire blood, and thus, the town would choose an axe handler as well. Other times, they simply desired agony.

That June night, the mayor reached into the box and pulled out a slip. The auditorium was silent, still enough that one could hear a pin drop. 400 pairs of eyes watched intently as the mayor slowly unrolled the paper and read the name out loud.

"Could a Jonathan Bassett please stand up?"

There was an audible gasp from the back row, and a young boy slowly stood up, his rosy cheeks drained of color, his green eyes wide and fearful. Stiffly, he turned and gave his mother one final hug before slowly shuffling down the central aisle, towards the waiting mayor.

A simple nylon fiber noose dangled from one of the structural crossbeams of the auditorium. Jonathan avoided looking at it as he stepped up on to the stage and joining the mayor. The boy stared down at his sneakers as the mayor gently took the noose and placed it around Jonathan's slender, pale neck.
The mayor tightened the knot and stepped back, admiring his handiwork. Jonathan stayed silent, his heart beating furiously. His white cotton shirt was already drenched with sweat, leaving it almost transparent.

The mayor turned his head and nodded towards the sacrifice technician, who pressed a button on a remote control.

The trapdoor built into the stage opened up, dropping Jonathan 4 meters and stretching the rope to its maximum length. The boy gasped as the nylon noose tightened inexorably, biting into his soft flesh. He twirled in mid air, his long legs kicking every which way, struggling to find something to hold onto. His hands shot up to his neck, in a futile effort to free his neck from the rope. The boy continued to kick and squirm in the air, his face slowly growing red. Jonathan's pink tongue poked out between his pressed purple lips as the noose forced itself deeper into the boy's neck. His legs stopped kicking, and began to raise themselves up and up until his knees touched his straining chest. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he winced and grimaced, pain and fear filling every fiber of his being. This continued for several minutes, until the rope finally strangled the oxygen supply to his brain for good.

With that, his arms fell limply to his side. Jonathan's legs relaxed as well.
The crotch of his jeans softened and went wet as the boy's bladder released its contents in a messy dribble. There he hung, slowly swinging, his facial expression serene, if it weren't for the bulging veins and copious amounts of drool.

The sacrifice technician came forward and cut Jonathan down. The boy dropped to the stage floor with a heavy thump, his body splayed out lifelessly.

The doctor came up onstage and placed his stethoscope against Jonathan's chest. He waited 10 seconds, put away his stethoscope, and took out a flashlight. With one gloved finger, he pulled open an eyelid and shone the light at the pupil. He grunted as the pupils stayed still. The doctor stood up and faced the mayor. "The heart is still beating, but there's no one home. Lets finish this off, shall we?"

The mayor smiled and looked up at the heavens, his arms outstretched. "May his soul nourish, and provide us with bountiful harvests", he murmured, as the sacrifice technician retrieved his knife from its holster once again, and pressed it against Jonathan's chest. The technician felt for a gap between the ribcage, found one, and shoved the knife deep into Jonathan's body. It sliced open his aorta, and the heart seized up instantly. Blood poured out of the incision, bright red and thick. It stained his t-shirt, then pooled around the boy's corpse, forming an a stroke of red across the blonde wood floor of the stage.

They left his corpse up on stage for the next several hours to cool and stiffen, before dragging it out to the town square and tossing it into a roaring bonfire. The flames consumed Jonathan, leaving nothing but scattered bones.

The harvest that year was good, as was expected.

It is dark and damp and oh-so cold down here. Nearby, water trickles down the stones and deep down the narrow well in the corner I can hear that water flowing and the soft hollow sound old brittle bones make when they rattle together. I know he throws the bones down there after he feasts. I make no sound at all because he squats on his powerful legs across the small dungeon as he watches me closely. He seems curious, studying me as I lay slumped against the wet stone wall, and I - in turn - study him. Even though the light is dim I can see his snout and pale eyes - eyes that have only seen darkness - a snout that is keen for human scent.

From above in the forest comes the sound of men shouting to each other as they search for me, the way they searched for Maisie and Clarice and Philip and Gerard and Poppy and Lily and so many others. When he hears their voices growing louder, he shuffles quickly toward me, his long taloned paws close, quivering, and his pale eyes bore into my own as he looms over me. I know why he has done this; if I cry out to the men above to beg for rescue, he will silence me with one swipe across my throat. I can feel the heat radiating from his body and feeling it gives me relief from the cold.

The men are right above us now, searching the ruins of this structure that remains above ground. I feel him tensing, rising ever-so-slightly on his haunches, his eyes seeming to glow with menace. With my eyes on his, I lift my chin and bare my throat - ‘do it’, I think to myself, ‘if you’re that afraid, do it’. He tilts his head to one side like dogs do when they are trying to understand something, and when he is satisfied I am not going to cry out, the tension eases in his body.

The men’s voices grow distant then vanish behind the trickling and flowing of water down here and he makes to move back to the far wall.

“No.” I say softly, “Don’t go. I like your warmth.”

Again, his head tilts, but he moves even closer and now I can smell the scent of him; reptilian and hormonal.

“When I was a small child” I whisper to him, “I was afraid to go to sleep because I thought I might die before I woke. It was from that prayer, you know? ‘If I die before I wake …’ Why do parents make us children recite that?”

*I DON’T KNOW* - my ears hear only his deep, wet gurgling growl, but my mind hears his words.

“Is there more like you?” I ask.

*I DON’T KNOW THAT EITHER. I AM ONE, THAT IS ALL I KNOW*

“You must be lonely. Laying awake at night, afraid of sleep was very lonely as well.”

*ARE YOU NOT AFRAID NOW?*

“Will you release me?”

He hesitates, then: *… NO*

“Do you mean to kill me? Devour me?”

*… YES*

“If I cried and begged would I make you change your mind?”

*NO* this time he shakes his head.

“Then I am not afraid.” I say, “It is pointless to be afraid of what is inevitable.”

He makes a slow chattering sound and I think it is laughter.

“You are the one who has taken all of the children?” I ask him.

*ALL BUT THE ONE CALLED POPPY. SHE WAS KILLED BY THE MILLWRIGHT BECAUSE SHE WOULDN’T STOP SCREAMING AFTER HE RAPED HER*

“Poor Poppy.” I said, feeling that sadness, “The Millwright said he saw you take her.”

*NO. HE PUT HER BODY IN A SACK AND ADDED STONES AND DROPPED HER BELOW THE WATERWHEEL.*

“He lied.”

*YES*

“Do you kill us first then devour our flesh?”

*DEVOURING IS KILLING.*

“You don’t mind the screams?”

*CHILDREN DON’T SCREAM AS MUCH AS YOU’D THINK WHEN THEY ARE BIT. THEY GASP AT THE FIRST BITE, THEN MOAN AS THEY ARE DEVOURED.*

“Show me your teeth?”

He opens his maw. His teeth are long and curved, opalescent like a snake’s, and like a snake’s they drip a clear liquid from needle-sharp tips.

Venom.

The heat from his body has warmed me, and seeing the teeth he will use has strangely calmed me. I open my thighs wide for him; an invitation.

“Where do you bite?” I ask has he closes his mouth.

*IT DEPENDS; THE CROTCH OR THE BELLY*

“The crotch?”

•FOR BOYS MOSTLY. I LIKE HOW THEY SQUIRM AND THEIR TASTE IS STRONGER THERE*

“For girls?”

*THE BELLY. THEY CURL AROUND ME AS I SUCK AND THEIR TASTE IS SWEET FROM THE BELLY*

I reach down and lift the hem of my dress until it is bunched under my armpits, laying like a loose band across my chest.

*YOU ARE DIFFERENT THAN THE OTHER CHILDREN*

“Thank you.”

*I AM ENJOYING YOU*

“And I am enjoying you.” I whisper as I arch my back and push my belly outward, “I want to be bit now.”

He makes a wordless gurgling sound as he turns his head and opens his mouth wider than before. His teeth bracketing my entire belly.

“Slowly!” I gasp, finally feeling the fear rising fast in me. His teeth touch on either side of my flanks, then slowly move together, the needle sharpness penetrating easily, sliding through skin, fat, and muscle. I feel the little squirts of his venom tingling inside me and I know why the children don’t scream as I moan long and low.

Pleasure.

My fear succumbs to a flood of pleasure spreading through my belly; upward, making my nipples tingle and downward, making my sex and bum loose and warm. It is the venom - the children he chooses are overcome by this pleasure. I surrender to it.

His long teeth slide deep and when they begin to squeeze I feel the liquid buzzing as I pee hard from the pressure and my breakfast rises up my gullet. I feel his reptilian lips close over my belly and he begins to suck.

Oh bliss.

Oh heaven.

He feeds for a very long time …

The Gift by T Vulture


Carefully balancing the tray load with waffles and blueberry, Kat favorite breakfast, I nudge our bedroom door open. A smile crept across my face as I spied my wife of five years in the nude still asleep. Slowly and quietly I made my way to the bed trying my best not to wake her.

Setting the tray on the cabinet before I crawl back into bed for a special wake up call. It didn’t take long for my skill tongue to slowly caress my sleeping beauty form sleep to mind shattering intense orgasm.

“Hmm, that wonderful way to wake up,” she say stretching. Like most pervert I just stare as she lean one way than the other. Her breast swing back in forth like a magician hypnotic watch. When she leans back to stretch those firm and wonderful abs make me want to grab and kiss her into submission, but I remember and resist my urge. It her birthday after all.

Quickly leaping out bed to the tray with still warm waffles. “Hope you don’t mind the early wakeup.” I pick up the tray. “I know it your birthday and I know you love to sleep in, but I couldn’t wait to give you your present.”

“Oh yea present” cried the overly excite woman. Her eyes quickly spot the wrap box on the tray as I place it in front of her, over her sexy pussy much to my dismay. “What did you get me?”

“Hold on. Why don’t you eat first.” Kat gave me sour look before grabbing the fork and knife. It didn’t take long for her to scarp down waffles. I almost thought she might choke. Lucky she didn’t.

“There done. Now can I open my present?”

I couldn’t say no to that beautiful smile adoring her alluring face. Like the waffles it didn’t take long for her to shred the paper and open the box. She pause when she peer inside then look up to me with a questioning look. “Read the card.”

While she read, I thought about what might happen today. It had been so hard to find a gift for my beloved this year. Student loans screw any chance of buying a something nice, and sadly both of us are busy with our full time jobs leaving us barely enough time together. Any subtle hints and wayward glace at the store were out of the picture. Lucky my sister is also my wife best friend and coworker.

I can still remember our conversation two weeks ago.

“Sis you got help me with Kat birthday present this year. I want to get her a super nice gift.”

“But you’re broke and can’t afford the usual stuff?” I nod. The exciting life of former student” she adds. “Unfortunately I don’t know what she is craving for, so sorry.”

“Damn, you were the only hope.”

“Hmm. I have an ideal! Why don’t you get her I do anything for the day gifts? Their cheap, and I know my boyfriend love it.”

“Yeah that could work. But isn’t that a little risky?”

“Well yeah is a little risk. Jim has been into kinky activity of late.”

“What?! No. I meant aren’t you worry he might harvest you?”

“Oh reply blushing sister. The thought of my pussy on his dinner plate has gone through my mind many times. Shame he to chicken to do it, or is my pussy better around his cock. Hmm?”

“Um, I reply not sure I want to hear this.”

Sister turn red when it occur to her last sentence had been spoken aloud. “What? I’m a big girl and I like my sex life to be exciting. Why do you think I offer myself every year. The risk make it more fun. Of course I tease him for the few days before to make sure he doesn’t but if he does.”

“You be dinner.” My sister nod. “Wow didn’t know you had those feeling.”

“Well that my problem. I don’t understand how it would be risky for you. Unless Kat into backdoor… you know… back seat of a Volkswagen sort of action.”

“I can honestly say Kat is not into that sort of thing. Instead she has a different fantasy I’m not really commit to.”

My sister wearing a large smirk leans in closed. “What is it? I hesitated. Come on tell your sister. Pretty please. I told you mind.”

I cave in. “Okay, Kat has a castration fantasy.”

“Oh is that all.” Reply my sister giggling. “News flash big brother, most girls have that fantasy. Even I want to give my boyfriend the chop sometime. Hell when we grew up I want do you.” Her smile as she envision her fantasy made me uncomfortable.

“Should I be worry when we invite you over,” I ask while closing my legs.

My sister roll her eyes. “Sorry brother but Jim dick look tastier, plus what I had in mind for you was more of revenge type. What I have for Jim is little more enjoyable for the both of us.”

“But you don’t actually want to do it?”

“Well not right now. The sex is way too good. Beside what make you think Kat would do you?”

“Two years ago I took her to one of those “auction.” In the end we able to win the special lover package of recently harvest dick and balls and pussy.”

“Oh wow. That must have cost.”

“It did. Which why we’re not doing it this year.”

“As we were eating, Kat told me she secretly wish my cock and balls were on the plate instead.”

“So what” reply my sister rolling her eyes. “Kat probability said that to make you horny.” I just stare at my younger sister in amazement. “Oh come on,” when she notice my stare. “Don’t tell me that you didn’t screw her brain out when you got home.”

My sister just to laugh at my deep blush. “Ha I’m right!”

“Okay, yes we fuck like rabbits. It well known fact sex organ are mood enhancer.” Her laughter told me she didn’t buy it.

Finally she stop laughing. “Don’t worry you should be safe.”

“Except I know Kat receive a banding kit from her mother last Christmas. With a note for when you get hungry.”

“Hmm. You might have a cause to be concern. Still can’t seeing her cutting you.” She glance at me. “I bet you’re getting excite about thinking what your sweet wife might or might not do.” I didn’t want to tell her it did, but my shift in posture told her everything.

My sister glance at her watch. “My lunch is almost over, so I got to go.” Grabbing her purse. “Brother? If you do go through with my ideal and Kat does harvest you; could you please record it for me? I want to add it to my collection.”

“Oh,” say Kat waking me from my day dream. “You’re offering to do anything I want?” I nod my head yes. “And you do it as long it with in the time on this clock,” she hold up a battery power clock with twelve hour count down already program in. All she have do is hit the start button. Again I nod my head.

My wife look back at the clock before looking at me. When I meant me, I referring to my crotch. Kat slowly lick her lips as she stare. Yep I’m going to harvest. It matter of how and when. My dick began to stir.

“I hope you like it?”

“I do,” reply my lovely, sexy wife. Kat chuckle as my dick made a sizable tent in my boxer. “There a lot I been wanting to try, with you.” She then look back at the clock. “Hmm, this doesn’t leave me much time does it?”

“Sorry. The best gift have a time limit,” is what I said. What I thought is the clock will make sure you don’t just harvest me right now. Of course the down side is spending a whole day being play with. Which didn’t give me much hope when I notice her glance at the closet with all out toys. Toys like sex aides, whips, dull knives, and an odd enhancer like a bander.

“Can I freshen up?”

“Yeah sure. The time only start when you hit that button.” I point to a rather large button on top of the clock.

“Great. I’m need a quick shower, and she look at me. Could you lose the short?”

“When you hit the button,” I reply. Kat gave me a scold as she left the room. While she shower I quickly clean the bed of dishes and food. Don’t want to give her ideals.

Returning from the kitchen I saw my wife sitting on the bed in a one of my favorite lingerie. In her right hand is the clock and the other is pair of hand cuffs.

Off to side of the bed sat the ever present camera to record all our fun. Guess my sister will get a video after all.

“Shall we start”, she say pressing the button.

I quickly lost all my clothes. Kat point to the bed. I happily hop on and assume the position. Until I hear the beep of the clock I will be at her mercy for rest of the day, so I just let her do everything she want it. Not that I mind except for…

Amazingly Kat spent most of time going through our normal roleplaying. There were a few difference like no condom, which I rather enjoy, and new props. How you call a miniature guillotine, with a hole big enough for my penis to slide into, a prop. It was scary when Kat place it on night stand in front of the camera.

I couldn’t believe how hard I got when we role play with it. Kat had me cuff and led me to it. Reading off fake charges. I think one of them was squeezing her ass to hard. I couldn’t remember. My mind was more interested in the small sharp looking blade at the top of slide. A small spring on at the top gave the blade more power than gravity would provide unlike the bigger cousin on I saw in the local butcher shop.

Part of the act was me confessing my innocence, which I must have admit, I deliver flawlessly. My mouth dry as my judge and executioner ignore my plead and yang on the cord. To my amazement I came as the blade race to the bottom to the cheers of Kat. After my orgasm recede I notice my penis felt and look intact.

She must have notice my confusion while she checking the video. Apparently the guillotine is real and prop all in one. She then point to the clock on the cabinet with several hours to go. “No need to rush. I have load of games I want to play.” Afterward I fuck her hard until she orgasm loudly.

This repeat with each new toy. For hours. Kat kept me in total suspense.

Finally with two hours left on the clock.

We were lying in bed with Kat on top. Cover in sweat. My penis half hard lodge in her pussy. Her face next to mine as she sleeps. Couldn’t help admiring her gorgeous red hair pull into a simple pony tail. Her freckle spark under the sweat like ruby as I count them.

My own exhaustion apparent from the countless fucking and role plays. Not sure how she plan on doing it. Most of the role playing involve me being harvest in some manner, yet nothing stood out. Harvest play has been one of the staples of our sex life in last few years. Of course, I thought, Kat didn’t actually say she would only give me hints which could be part of the role play.

Feeling of her wet hot pussy around my penis, like always is wonderful sensation. If I could I would love to stay like this forever. One of the reason I don’t want to be harvested. Yet there is a part of me that wonder if being harvest might be exciting in its own right. Kat had shown me a few of video of men and boy being harvest before for ideas. While she watch for the techne, I’ll always pay attention to boys reaction. A few seem to enjoy the act. Perhaps that what made it exciting? I image watching my meat being pull away from my body. Watching what she does with it afterward. Will she cook it? Or will she stuff it?

Needless to say I’m confuse.

As I ponder my fate, my penis stir to life and awoke sleeping beauty from her nap. I didn’t realize she awoke, nor her eyes secretly watch my expression as I ponder.

“Hey, what you thinking?”

“Um, how beautiful you’re.”

“Hmm, really?”

“Yes.”

Kat turn her head to get a good look at the clock still sitting on the cabinet. The second trickle away slowly turning into minutes. Need to say it made me nervous and hard. She must have notice my harden member yet didn’t move or say anything.

“So how do you like your gift?”

“Hmm? Oh, I like it very much. Glad you got me this instead of costly nik-nak we had to sale later. Suck being poor,” she gripe. “I rather play and watch the fun later.”

“I look at the clock. There not much time left. Do you have any other games to play?”

“A few she reply. My pussy is a little sore, so I might just want to stay like this. Except your penis want something more.” Her eyeing me.

“Well you know that thing has a mind of its own.”

“Right it does.” Kat press her pussy further on to my penis. Causing it to get harder quicker. “Like that don’t you.” She purr. I nod my approval. She stop and look at me. “Your gift. You will do whatever I want?” Again I nod my head. Kat pouts. “I want to hear it!”

“Yes, I will do whatever you want.”

“Hmm. You know I’m feeling hungry.” Thrusting her pussy as far it would go on to my penis. I swallow in anticipation of her next game. My penis somehow got harder. Kat giggle in response. She glance at the clock then back to me.

She slowly sit up in to my crotch. Forcing more of my penis in to her small frame. If that were possible. Moving her hips in a slow gyro she hump me for a second before slowly hoping off. “Come I want you to take a shower before the next game.”

“As you wish.” In a mock genie tone.

She make her way for the door and turn back to me. “I want you to wash yourself thoroughly. And take your time. I will come join you in a movement.”

“Shall I shave?” Normally I kept my groin free of hair but since my talk with my sister I had let it go. It had been an attempt to dissuade any harvest ideals. However it seem to have fail.

Kat look down at my crotch while sliding her tongue over her lips. It made me shutter at the possible future. “No, I want to shave you myself.” She slip out the door before I could ask anything else.

In the shower I scrubbing our combine sex juices off my body. Like she command I took my time. Typical shower for me is maybe ten minutes at most, so it felt weird taking longer. Every now and then I hear a clang of metal from what sound from the kitchen. It didn’t help my thoughts impending doom. I look down at my groin with my penis and companying ball dangling underneath. It took surprising little effort to image them gone. To my surprise I got hard at the thought. Harder when I know she would take them.

I half wonder if my sister is waiting for Kat to call with news. Will she be excite and finally do Jim? The thought of that ass getting his brought a smile to my face. Wonder what method my sister would use on him? A knife? Or something more personal.

I fail to notice my sexy nymph sneak into the room with the clock. Nor did I see her put it on the sink. The slamming of the drawer where I store my shaving kit brought me out of my day dream. Kat now completely nude set the kit down and hops into the shower.

“Here let me wash you.” She grab the sponge form my hand and begins scrubbing me in earnest. In no time she had my back and limbs clean. Before pausing at my groin. There she took her time scrubbing and examining my organ like one does to a piece of meat. Finally she hose me off.

She pull me out of the shower. She point to a chair she had move closer to the shower. Taking the hint I sat down and spread my legs giving her complete access. It weird watching her shave the peach fuzz from around my organs. Taking the greatest care not to nick or cut my sensitive skin. For my part I try to enjoy the sensation as best I could. It might be my last.

Once done, she direct me back into the shower. Again she hop in, but this time she commands me to wash her body. One of my favorite pastime. Like her I slowly wash her body. Starting at the her hands and work slowly to her sensitive area. Lingering at her pussy. When she force my head into her snatch I knew that succeed in buying a few more minutes, and maybe a final fuck if lucky.

Boy was I lucky.

I fuck once to her orgasm then twice. For someone with a sore pussy she didn’t seem to complain. My balls on the other hand, bitch about the increase in work. Like any dick boss, I told them to shut it and get back to work.

When I attempt to convince for a third fuck she stop me and points out. I hop out of the shower closely follow by Kat. She grab a towel and start to dry herself then me. I guess she didn’t want me to stall any further by doing it herself.

While I wait. I notice the clock and my heart sank. Only forty five minutes pass since we were in the bed. More than enough remain. I’m really going to be harvest. Again my dick leap to attention.

Kat giggle at my dick. She look at me and follow my glaze to the clock. “Little worry about the next game?”

“Not really.” She smirk. “Okay I’m a little nervous.”

“Good boy. It will be over soon.” She said that while patting my penis. My penis got harder. “Look like he eager.”

Kat stop pattering my penis and slowly got to her knee. Again she inspect my meat. Running her hands over the skin making sure no hair remain. She look at me and smile. “It time.” Hoping to her feet she gently grab my penis and pull me out of the bathroom after grabbing the clock.

Through the bed room she pull me. Into the short hall of our two bedroom house. The second room is our make shift office slash dungeon. At first I think she would take me there. However she pull me into the kitchen. Only letting go of my penis in front of the craving board.

“Stay.” She whisper into my ear before darting off. I watch out of boredom and fear. My penis being the idiot it is enjoy the sensation of the cutting board. The rough wood on my soft skin. The groove from the countless slash and chop of countless knifes felt exciting. Kat drop the clock down next to the stove where I could see the minute counting down to my freedom. Fifty minute remain. Yep this is it.

Kat began to place bowls fill with ingredient next to the cutting board. None of the ingredient in the bowl look familiar to me. Perhaps she already mix them. Looking around the room I notice the camera sitting on the tripod with the lens aim at my penis. Form there I look down to the cutting board and to my horror sat Kat Christmas gift. Open. The instruction left out where I could read them.

Easy do it yourself breeding control and late night snack read the big bold letters. Even had a recipe for deep fried penis for one. That explain what look like bread crumb and what appear to be egg wash. I felt annoy my penis will be soon deep fried. I had hope she make a more appetizing meal like the poor boy, two year before. I sigh it is her birthday and I’m the gift.

The clock had countdown to fifty minutes before Kat reappear before me. Wearing an apron over her nude body. It just barely cover her important aspect. My dick got harder yet again. I’m almost wonder if she trying to make it bigger for a better meal.

Kat turn to look at the clock and smile. Just enough time left. She turn to me. Ready for the last game?

“Yes. I’m somewhat ready. Him on the other hand want it to happen, I said pointing to my raging hard on.”

“Funny most dick do that.” She look down and gently caress it. “To you think it know what going to happen?” I shrug my shoulder. She look up at me. “Thanks for letting me full fill my fantasy.”

“You really want to harvest me don’t you?”

“Ever since that first night you fuck me in the club house. I would masturbate for hours every night with that thought until you married me. Then I fuck you with that dream.” She sigh. “I’m going to miss him and these.” She say cupping my aching balls.

I want to tell her she doesn’t have to, but I remain quiet. It her birthday and my penis is nothing more that meat at this point. She must have known what I thought. “I suppose I could let you go and miss this one time opportunity. The sex is fun and I do enjoy him a lot. Except you clearly been wanting this all morning.” I stun at the actuation. “How you came so hard after each and every harvest play. Even with me laying on your stomach I felt him stir as I watch your face. Fill with a hint of fear, but also desire and lust. Plus the fact you kept watching the clock all day.”

“What now?”

“Now I’m going to hand cuff to make it sexier. Then I going to apply the band and then chopped, while picking up the meat cleaver.”

I gave the knife a worry glance. “You’re not going to use the guillotine?”

“I could. If you want to go that way. The cleaver is more sexy and trilling, and it require lot of skill to make the proper cut on the first swing. The guillotine is boring and doesn’t fit the kitchen aspect of the video pointing to the camera.”

“Oh. It your birthday and he meat.” I say looking down at my soon to be food. “So cleaver it is.”

“Thanks for your understanding. Oh and don’t worry about wasting the guillotine. I think your sister want to use it on Jim. It is her after all.” All I could think of is my sister knew and sold me out.

Kat glance at the clock. “I better get the band or it will be too late. I would hate to have to remove the bands before they finish the job. Don’t you?” I didn’t answer and Kat clearly didn’t want an answer. She pick up the cuff and dart behind me. Grabbing one hand then the other before cuffing them together.

She dart over to the camera to check the recording. Before picking up the bander kit. Walk over to me and kneel on a stool I haven’t notice before. With expert practice she made sure to align herself in frame without blocking the view. She twist me slightly to get better angle. She pick the correct band for my member and set them on the block.

It took me movement to realize. Role playing to the end. It what got us together, so it make sense it what take my dick out of our story.

She stood up and kiss me. “Any last request?”

“A blow job?”

“I’m afraid it little too late for that. Beside your ball must be hurting a lot.” I nodded.

“One question?”

“Yes?”

“Why deep frying.”

“Huh?” Kat look at the instruction. “No I’m not using that. You’re right there is frying involve, but I’m not using that recipe. I’m using my mother recipe she taught me last year when I help cut my younger brothers.” I hadn’t know she did that. “We can watch the video later.”

Kat walk out of frame for a second then walk back in. Acting out a cooking show. “Today ladies and well soon to be former boys were going to properly band and cook a man his pride and joy. Common know as dick and balls.”
I haft listen and half watch as Kat kneel. The whole time explaining how to load the common bander. She heft my right testicle then left before loading the machine.

“First you take the correct band. Too large and it won’t stop the bleeding. Too little and it will be hard to slip it over the balls. Next you place it over the clasping mechanism like so.” Kat slowly open the bander. “Make sure it won’t come off premature. Men you know what I mean.” She joke.

With delicate skill she slip the open bander over my balls. First one then the second slip past the band. “Sometime you have to coast them out.” She said looking at the camera. “Lucky for us we don’t have to in this case.”

“The next part is to release the band. This might sting.” I couldn’t tell if she warning me or for the camera. Regardless it did sting. It took all my might not to yell or cry. Just grunt in pain. Kat pat me on the flank. “There a good boy.” My penis got bigger somehow. “It we just leave the band on,” she say to the camera, “his ball will fall off on their own in a day or two. Sadly they won’t be good to eat.”

Kat pick two more bands. “Now my recipe require the whole package otherwise this is a good stopping point. A boy without balls will lose interest in girl, but can masturbate for a month or two maybe longer. For those wanting to control unwanted urges.” Kat place the bander on the table. I wonder what she doing. I soon found out.

“This is a catheter.” Holding up a clear tube to the camera. “Take a swear of grease and gentle slide it into the penis. Take your time. He might enjoy it.” Kat looks up at me. Judging from her smile my express must be of ecstasy.

Kat casually explain how to use the catheter to the camera. With the sensation of being fuck, a new and interesting experience, occupying my thoughts. Suddenly she lean down and kiss then lick my cock. The feeling of both the pleasure of her tongue and the stiff intrusion nearly made me cum. Somehow I didn’t make any sound.

“There you go.” say Kat patting my penis before pickup pair of cleaver and swinging down on the tube above tip of my penis.
Kat pick up the bander and slip it over my stuff penis. It felt strange as it descend to the base. “You can leave a little stump but I like my boy smooth.” Without warning I felt the pitch of the rubber. She pull the bander up a little and release a second band. It didn’t hurt as bad as the first.

“Okay there you have it. The boy is property band it and waiting for the last step.” Kat giggles before standing up. I turn my head. It didn’t take long to see the reason for the giggle. The clock had twenty minute remaining. This is no hope my organs will survive with the blood chocking band. In fact I could feel the pain of my testicle dulling.

Kat turn me back for the best cutting. Cleans the board of any trash. She lean over and kiss me. “Sorry lover but it time.” I nod my understanding. She pat my aching penis. “Good by my favorite toy. Hello dinner.”

I didn’t listen to her commentary. Instead I watch the cleaver lift up and move over my penis. I swallow as it hangs. Waiting for it to fall. I look to Kat to see what the holdup is. As our eyes met she drop the blade down on to my former penis and her meal. It didn’t hurt at first. She pick up the meat and move it to the side before grabbing my balls. Not even bothering to look she lift and swing the blade onto the sack at the top, just below the band. Like the penis it didn’t hurt at first.

I barely watch my love pick up the sack. She show them to the camera before dumping out the testicle. I stare in shock at the spot where my pride and joy use to reside. It felt weird being a little sad their gone, but I’m actually happy it happen.

Looking up to see the next phase. My darling wife set the sack off to the side and began washing the ball in cold bath before picking up the penis. Pull out the remaining tube. To my amazement she pull the apron aside and shove it in. “Favoring.” She said to the camera. Before running to the camera to pause it.

“How you feel?”

“It sting, but it not as bad as I thought.”

“Good, good. How to you feel about the lost?”

“Actually I feel glad it happen.” I glance at the clock and notice the time. Ten minutes before time is up. “Um, is there anything else you want?”

“Not today. Maybe in a month or two we can go to the butcher.” Kat start to laugh at my sour look. “Just kidding. I like you the way you are.” I felt relieve. “But if you can’t satisfied me with that tongue, who know what might happen.”

I spent rest of the time sitting on bar stool watching Kat prepare and finally cook the harvest meat. The camera record every detail. My sister will so be please. She then set the cook meat to the side and quickly set up a one person seat at the table.

My finally task, as a freebie since the time has long run out, is to carry the plate with my cook, slice, and arrange meat to the table for her consumption. It had been amusing to watch Kat eat the last set at the auction not knowing who had lost. It felt more satisfying to watch her eat my organs.

With a fork she stab the head and bring it up to her mouth. I want to masturbate to her chewing. Slowly the rest of soon follow with the balls remain as a meaty desert. Kat took her time chewing and savoring my manhood. Describing both the texture and favors. One last spoof to the camera and it was done.

Out of curiosity I ask, “how did you like your gift?”

Kat lean back in the chair. She pants her stomach. “Hmm, most satisfying. The meat was so tender and favorable. Better than my brothers. The balls were a little flat. I guess the saying full ball is a taster ball. Is true after all.”

“Oh,” I reply. To fair I want to hear it was the best in the world. It did take me most of life to produce it.

Kat notice my displeasure. “Sorry love. I didn’t know you care so much about flavor of your manhood. To be honest I want to harvest this morning right after our first game, but I figure you it wouldn’t be fair to you. Beside my pussy really love that hard penis sliding in and out. Shame it in here now.” She pat her stomach.

“Still it were much better than the auction, and I meant what I said being better than my brothers.”

Afterwards Kat drag me to the couch. Push me down and rode my face. She scream each time she hit an orgasm, so loud I’m sure the neighbor across the street would complain. No one came. After several orgasm on my tongue, Kat send me back to the kitchen to clean.

The next day my sister came over. Funny how she look with her mouth hung open when I pull my pants off at Kat direction.

“Oh wow! You actually did it.” Kat nod while rubbing her tummy. “Please tell me you recorded it?”

“Of course I did.”

“Can I watch it? Please?”

My wife tilt her head to the side. “I don’t know.” Looking over my sister body. “What do you have to offer?” She ask while licking her lips.

The Volunteer

A man discovers that his local market is selling a rather unique cut of specialty meat, and that meat has to be coming from somewhere, right?

Tags: Ff/m, Consensual, Penectomy, Castration, mild CBT, Casual, Objectification, implied Cannibalism

He was browsing through the meat section of the market, idly pondering picking up a bit of pork or chicken to have for dinner when he saw it. A set of cock and balls sitting in one of the display cases, right next to the ground beef.

"Wha..?" he exclaimed under his breath, blinking in surprise. "..No way."

The set of clearly erect male organs had been severed neatly, just below a thin metallic band cinched tight around the base. They were a light purplish color, as if they had been taken off only moments after the band had been applied and then somehow preserved. They didn't look frozen, though, but fresh. Very fresh.

"What the hell.." he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief at what he was seeing. Coming across human genitalia was not something he expected to happen while doing his meat shopping.

"Hey, there.." came a chirpy, cheerful feminine voice, breaking past his surprise. "..Finding what you're looking for?"

He glanced up to see a short, pretty young woman looking up at him from the other side of the display case. She was olive skinned, with predominantly Mediterranean features save for a small button nose, and very, very cute. She wore a store uniform, and obviously worked in the meat department.

"Uh.." he responded intelligently, as his brain caught up.

"Did you want some of the hamburger?" she asked, glancing down into the case where he had been looking, her gaze skating past the set of severed male parts that has so caught his attention. "I ground it up myself, just this morning. It's very high quality, and a pretty good price right now too."

"Uh, no." he replied, shaking his head. "..Um."

"Something else then?" she prompted, with a raised eyebrow and a curious smile.

"I have a question, actually.." he finally managed, gulping slightly.

"Of course! What do you want to know?"

"What.. how come.." he stuttered, struggling to put his suddenly scattered thoughts into order. "..why do you have a.. a man's.."

He broke off, unable to finish his sentence, and just gestured weakly at the set of cock and balls within the display.

"Oh! You want to know about our manmeat." the cute store employee (whose name tag read "Hi, I'm Jasmine!") said, nodding her head and smiling in understanding as she looked up at him with wide, guileless eyes.

"Yeah." he replied faintly.

"We'll, the normal price is nineteen ninety-five per pound, but we're having a bit of a sale this week, so it's only fifteen ninety-five a pound. Which is a pretty good deal, I'd say!" she answered happily, glancing into the display case.

Indeed, right in front of the male genitals was a little deli sign, which had the normal price struck through, and excitedly proclaimed the sale price right below it in large, colorful numbers.

"I.. see." he said, now having even more questions. "How.. where do you get it from?"

"Oh, our manmeat is sourced locally, and is very fresh!" Jasmine explained, nodding again. "We get a brand new batch in every morning. We're usually sold out by late afternoon though, so it's best to come in early if you want a larger selection to choose from!"

"Ah.. I see." he replied, not seeing at all. "But.."

"Excuse me.." came a low, pleasant feminine voice from just behind him.

He turned to find another young woman, this one a pale skinned girl with narrow, almost elfin features and light blonde hair, standing behind him and peering around his shoulder.

"Hello!" the girl behind the counter chirped, greeting the newcomer. "Looking for something?"

"Something for a bar-be-Que.." the new girl replied, shooting a slightly apologetic glance over at him for interrupting. "It's a bring-your-own-meat party."

"Sounds fun! Were you hoping for anything in particular? Ground beef is on sale right now, you know!"

He just stood there, having stepped slightly aside, and watched as the two girls casually spoke about bar-be-Que. The fact that there was a man's severed cock and balls on display (and also apparently "ON SALE!") right between them didn't seem to faze them in the slightest. It felt to him like the situation couldn't get any more surreal.

"Actually, I was hoping for some manmeat. It's Friday, so I feel like treating myself a bit." the blonde customer answered a moment later, pointing one slim finger toward the display, right at the set of pale purple male parts. "I wanted something a little more substantial than those, though. Do you have any others available?"

Apparently it could get much more surreal, he realized, listening in on the exchange.

"Sorry, those are all we have left." the sales girl said, sounding genuinely apologetic. "Like I was telling this fellow here, you need to come in earlier in the day if you want a chance at a larger selection."

"Oh, I'm sorry." the blonde said, turning and addressing him. "You were here first, were you going to buy these? I just kind of barged right in front of you."

"N-no.." he replied, quickly shaking his head and backing up a step or two. "Go.. go ahead."

"Thanks!" the blonde replied, beaming a radiant grin at him. "I've had my heart set on bringing some manmeat to the bar-be-Que all day. It would have been a shame to have to settle for something else, even if these aren't as big as I'd have liked."

The fact that the blonde girl was being an unrepentant size-queen, in this of all situations, ratcheted up the surrealism for him yet another couple of notches.

"Great, let me package these up for you!" the cheerful sales girl said, bobbing happily. "Did you want to pay here, or up at the front?"

"At the front." the blonde customer replied, licking her lips lightly as the store employee reached in and plucked the meat in question up out of the display case. "I've still got to pick up a few more things.. I don't have any sauce yet."

He watched the two young women debate the merits of various bar-be-Que sauces, even as the sales girl casually weighed and then wrapped up the severed cock and balls in pristine white butcher paper, and then placed a price label on it. The blonde customer accepted the package with a happy thank you and a smile, then tucked her new acquisition into the crook of an arm. She walked away, humming cheerfully, taking the manhood turned meat along with her and obviously looking forward to her bar-be-Que party.

The casualness of the whole transaction was giving his brain fits. The fact that both girls had treated some anonymous man's cock and balls as if they were just another piece of meat was proving to be difficult for him to wrap his mind around.

"So, was there anything else?" the sales girl asked, breaking him from his reverie.

"Uh.." he hesitated, before turning to look at her. "How long have you been selling man.. selling manmeat?"

He had trouble even uttering the words, the idea was so impossible.

"Ages, I suppose. As long as I've been working here, anyway." the girl replied, blinking in surprise at his question. "Heck, I remember my mom buying me some from this store for my birthday almost every year ever since I was a kid. She'd usually even let me pick out the set I wanted, too."

Years.. the store had been selling men's cocks and balls for years. Not even hiding it, but putting it openly and even proudly on display. The sales girl talked about it as if it had been a regular part of her entire life. How had he missed it all this time?

"Who.. who do you get them.. it from?" he finally asked, struggling to phrase the question and almost afraid to hear the answer.

Just where HAD the store been getting male genitals to sell as meat, which they'd apparently been doing for years and years? The answer was not what he dreaded, or expected.

"Oh, volunteers, of course." the sales girl replied with a shrug, as she absently polished the top of the display case with a rag. "We usually have at least a few drop by in the early morning. We harvest the meat and get it cleaned and put out before we open."

"Vol.. volunteers?" he asked, surprised.

"Sure!" the girl said, with a little giggle at his expression. "What'd you think we did, stalk down guys in the dead of the night and drag them back here to steal their meat?"

"Well.." he answered, shrugging helplessly.

"Ha! No need. It seems like there are always more guys lining up each morning, so why bother going to all that trouble when we can just wait for them to bring their meat to us instead?"

"Ah.." he said, unsure how to reply to her statement.

"You're pretty curious about all this.." the sales girl observed, eyeing him appraisingly and glancing down toward his waist. "Were you interested in volunteering? We never say no to more meat."

"Wh-what?!" he sputtered, almost choking in surprise. "No!"

"No? Well, that's too bad." the girl replied, with an absent shrug. "If you change your mind though, just stop by any day in the early morning. There's a door out back for the volunteers, just knock on it."

"I'll.. I'll keep that in mind." he replied, before beating a hasty retreat, scarcely hearing the girl's cheerful parting goodbye.

He wandered the store's aisles for a bit after that, lost in thought, unable to keep himself from dwelling on what he'd just learned. He saw the blonde paying for her purchases as he left the store empty-handed (his appetite for meat had fled) a few minutes later. She'd picked up some disposable plates and cutlery, and a jar of some sort of bar-be-Que sauce to go along with her manmeat. The cashier didn't even blink at ringing up the blonde's items, apparently accustomed to seeing severed bits of male flesh pass through her check line all the time. Crazy.

"Crazy." he muttered, trying to convince himself. "Crazy, crazy, crazy."

The fact that he was leaving the store with an enormous erection was not lost on him. He couldn't help but imagine what the blonde was soon going to be doing to her purchase. Couldn't help but imagine that it wasn't some other anonymous man's cock and balls that she'd purchased, but his own. Cut off and cleaned and packaged up nice and neat for her.

"Crazy." he repeated again and shuddered, at the thought of her holding his helpless manhood in her slim hands, casually brushing sauce over it, and then placing it on a grill to cook. "Crazy."

Maybe if he said it enough times, he'd even believe it.

–

"What am I doing?" he asked himself, for perhaps the twentieth time.

It was the next morning and he stood behind the market, before a plain white door with the word "DELIVERIES" emblazoned on it in large block letters (and which also had a faded paper sign reading "Volunteers" taped to it). He was fidgeting nervously, having not had a very restful previous night.

It was hard to rest when one's imagination had been unwillingly set to overdrive, not to mention his libido. He'd spent most of the evening pacing, unwilling to give in to the perverse ideas and urges boiling through his mind. Trying to sleep had been fruitless, despite the (very) cold shower that he'd forced upon himself before retiring for the night. His thoughts kept returning relentlessly, no matter what he tried to do to distract himself, to the image of the severed cock and balls he'd seen in the store. And to the slim blonde that had purchased them, then presumably cooked and eaten them. At a party with many others present, even. Some man's cock and balls grilled up like any other piece of meat, probably right next to some burgers and hot dogs.

He'd eventually given in, and spent most of the night in a frenzied haze of aroused fantasizing and vigorous self pleasure. Even now, the thought of what he'd seen the day before made his cock twitch and swell, despite the fact that he'd masturbated himself to a stupendous orgasm in his morning shower not an hour before.

He eyed the door again, a mixture of dread, arousal, and anticipation churning in the pit of his stomach at what might lay beyond. Part of him dared not approach it, while the other half wanted nothing more. Overlaying everything was a perverse curiosity at just what would happen to him, and to his manhood, if he did.

"Volunteers.." he read aloud, huffing out an annoyed breath and irritated at his own indecisiveness. "That means I can change my mind, right? I can just go in and.. see, that's it. I can just see what's behind the door and then leave if I want."

"I don't have to.. to.." he muttered to himself, trailing off.

He shivered at the imagined sensation of his cock and balls laying on a butcher's block, waiting for the chop. It didn't have to come to that. He could just go in, satisfy his curiosity, then leave. Simple, right?

Something in his gut told him it wouldn't be so easy, but he steeled himself and walked up to the door anyway. His knock was a bit hesitant and sounded feeble to him, but before he could repeat it the door opened and a young woman's head popped out.

It was the sales girl from the day before. The short one with the olive skin, dark eyes, and cute little nose.

"Hey, here to volunteer?" she asked, sounding offensively cheerful for such an early hour, before beckoning to him. "You're a little late. We're almost ready to open, but I think we can squeeze you in if we don't dawdle. Come on in!"

"Ah.. okay." he responded, his confidence shaken by her casual earnestness, and the way the energetic girl quickly ushered him inside.

"What.. what do I do?" he asked, squinting around in the bright artificial light of the industrial sized meat locker they had both entered.

Sides of beef and pork hung up in the chilly room, and frozen turkeys and chickens could be seen through a windowed door into the freezer proper. He supposed that it was fitting, him entering through the door that all the rest of the meat was also delivered through, given what he was (maybe, perhaps) here to do.

"Gotta get you cleaned up, first off." the girl commented, as she led him past all the hanging meat.

"I.. I took a shower just a few minutes ago." he supplied.

"That's good too, but that's not exactly what I meant. I mean we've got to scrub your meat down before we harvest it." she said, as she pulled him into another room lined with stainless steel sinks and counters. "Go ahead and strip for me, will you?"

"Uh.. um." he hesitated, gulping at her command and blushing furiously.

"Oh, come on. There's no need to be shy." the girl said, rolling her eyes and snorting slightly. "You haven't got anything I haven't seen or cut off a hundred times before."

Crimson faced, he obeyed, stacking his clothes up in a loose pile on a shelf by the door.

"Great, let's see what you've got to offer!" the girl said, as she eyed his exposed groin critically before reaching casually for his manhood with both hands.

"Hmm, nice size.." she commented as she groped his flesh, ignoring his surprised squeak.

Her manner was businesslike, her grip firm but not unnecessarily rough as she appraised his flesh in the most direct way possible.

"Balls are nice and plump, no unusual lumps or bumps.. good." she continued, squeezing his testicles briskly but thoroughly before moving on to his shaft and head. "And you're already mostly hard for me, perfect!"

She gave the tip of his rapidly hardening penis a casual little flick with the pad of her index finger, making it bobble up and down.

"You'll do. Let's get you washed up." she stated, looking up at him and smiling.

"Hey, aren't you that guy from yesterday?" she asked, blinking as she seemed to really see him for the first time. "I thought you weren't interested. Changed your mind, huh? I figured you might."

She winked at him and gave him another squeeze, her grin turning into a knowing little smirk.

"You.. you did?" he gasped, his breath short in reaction to her inspection of his manhood.

"Oh yeah. With some guys, you can just tell." she said, with a little laugh. "Come on over to the sink."

She pulled him over to one of the nearby sinks, tugging him into position with a firm grip on his cock.

"Press yourself over it.. there we go." the girl instructed, as she pulled on a pair of thick rubber gloves and ran the hot water. "Try not to squirm too much, okay?"

Then she positioned the faucet over his tumescent cock and hanging balls, bathing them in hot, hot water. He yelped and tried to pull back, but she slapped him on his bare bottom and then leaned against his back, holding him in place.

"I told you not to squirm!" she groused, though she sounded more amused than irritated.

Then she picked up a rough pad, doused it liberally in scentless soap, and proceeded to remorselessly scrub every inch of him down. She pressed particularly strongly against the skin of his scrotum, as she firmly gripped his poor balls in her other hand, making sure to get at it from every possible angle with the scratchy pad.

"Ahh!" he cried out, squirming in place even as the girl thrust her hips against his bottom to try and keep him still as she worked.

Finally, it was done. It felt like she'd taken off the top three layers of skin, and that the hot water had flash boiled the rest, but he (or rather, his manhood) was now cleaned to her satisfaction.

"And.. done!" the girl declared, after she'd rinsed him off one final time and stripped off her gloves. "That looks good. Now let's get you banded."

He gulped at her words. "Getting banded" sounded painful, and given that he still wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to go through with all this, he wasn't eager to experience it.

"Does.. does that hurt?" he asked, as the girl pulled him along (again by his cock) over to a little machine set up on a counter in an out of the way corner of the room.

"Eh, a little." the girl said, throwing her answer absently over her shoulder. "The band is just tight enough to keep the blood inside, so it isn't too bad."

"Keep the blood inside..?" he asked, gulping nervously again. "Inside me.. or inside my cock?"

"Yes." the girl stated, giving him a teasing little smirk as they came to a stop before the machine. "Don't worry, the bander puts two on. One for you, and one for your meat."

"Alright, let's get you as hard as possible." she said, turning back to him and taking his manhood fully in hand once again.

"Wh-why?" he asked, bucking his hips a little as she began stroking his member and kneading his testicles.

"Well, manmeat sells by the pound, just like every other meat." the girl explained, as if surprised he even needed to ask. "So the harder and plumper your cock is before we band it, the more it'll sell for, of course."

"Of.. of course." he replied, shuddering at both the thoughts her words put into his mind, and at the feel of her warm hands on his freshly cleaned flesh.

"I.. I have another question.." he gasped, his eyelids drooping down in pleasure as the cute girl continued to stimulate him.

"Shoot, big boy." she responded, grinning up at him as she hefted his manhood in her hands.

"How.. how can you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Sell a guy's manho.. manmeat?" he asked, looking down at her.

"What do you mean?" she asked, pausing in her ministrations for a moment and tilting her head in puzzlement. "It's not that complicated. We put it out on display, someone comes along and decides they want it, and then we sell it to them."

Her tone very much implied a "Duh, silly." at the end of her statement.

"I.. I mean legally." he clarified. "I mean, wouldn't the FDA look down on something like this?"

He also meant morally. But, given how blase she and the blonde girl had been about the transaction he'd witnessed the day before, and how casually she was now talking about getting the most profit possible out of his cock and balls when (if) she eventually sold them, he figured that she had no issues there and didn't bother to bring it up. That all the manmeat the sales girl harvested and sold apparently came from willing volunteers, who came knowingly to the market to give up their goods of their own accord, just like he (potentially) had.. Well, it was hard to work himself up into a moral outrage about what she was doing when his own current actions were neatly undercutting such a stance.

"Oh.." the girl replied, before resuming her stroking. "Well, the FDA doesn't really care if we sell manmeat. Why would they? As long as everything is clean, hygienic, and safe, we can sell whatever we want."

"Really?" he asked, skeptically.

"Of course. If the customer knows what they're buying, then what's the problem? Now, if we tried to get away with selling horse meat as beef, or something like that, then the FDA would probably step in, I suppose." she said, shaking her head. "Heck, we even had an inspection just last week. Passed with flying colors!"

That feeling of surreality, which had been lurking in the back of his mind ever since the day before, returned. Selling men's cocks and balls.. selling manmeat, was A-Okay with the federal government. And somehow, he had never heard of it before yesterday. It almost felt like he had stepped into another world, one with crazily different morals, except that everything else was exactly the same as it always had been.

"Well, I don't think that you're going to get any bigger than this." the girl said, interrupting his musings as she dropped his cock and balls and turned to the banding machine.

She undid a clasp on one side of the device, then flipped the top open along a hinge on the opposite side.

"We just lay your meat across the groove here.." she said, as she guided his reluctant steps forward and laid his furiously erect cock and plump, relaxed balls into place.

She closed the top over his flesh, trapping the base of his manhood within. It looked sort of like an old fashioned set of stocks, only for men's genitals instead of a person's wrists and neck.

"..and make sure that we've got as much of you as possible in the machine.." she continued, ignoring his nervous trembling as she tugged on his manhood, pulling just a little more of it through the hole.

"..and then band you!" she finished, as she pressed a button on the side of the machine, which whirred to life at once.

The process only took a few moments, though it felt much longer to him, as he stared down in unabashed fear at the machine that held his cock and balls captive. Something cold and smooth wrapped around the base of his manhood, then slowly but inexorably began to tighten.

"Gah!" he gasped, as the band squeezed down smaller and smaller, crushing his flesh along with it.

The machine stopped just before the pain transformed into true agony, but it was still very, very unpleasant to have something wrapped so tightly around the bottom of his cock and the top of his ball sac.

"Oww.." he whined, trying but unable to wriggle his hips in a futile attempt to ease the pain.

"Whimp." the girl commented good-naturedly, poking him teasingly in the side as she popped the top of the bander open once more. "It's done. Let me get you out of there."

The something around the base of his manhood turned out to actually be two somethings. Silvery metal bands, each separated by a mere fraction of an inch, squeezed the blood vessels of his cock completely shut, and the swollen, trapped organ was already beginning to turn a light shade of purple.

"Okay, only one more thing to do.." the girl said, as she took hold of his cock again and began leading him forward once more.

"What.. what's that?" he asked, grimacing slightly in pain as she tugged him onward through another door.

"Harvest your meat, of course." the girl said, as if it were the most logical thing in the world. "It'll only take a moment."

Her words struck him deep, and he shivered as his skin prickled up into goosebumps. He still.. still wasn't sure if he could go through with it. The idea of his cock and balls laying in a display case next to all the rest of the meat, just waiting for some girl to come along, pick them out, and then purchase them.. All with the sole intent of eating them as part of some future meal.. Well, it was horribly, wonderfully arousing to him. He had literally spent the entire previous night masturbating to the thought of his manhood being subjected to just such a thing.

But it was permanent. So terribly, unequivocally permanent. If he went through with it, he would never feel another woman's touch on his penis, never have the chance to father children, and never again be able to orgasm. Ever. How could he allow such a thing to be done to himself? Was the momentary thrill for him, and the passing culinary pleasure for whomever eventually bought and ate his manhood, actually worth the price he would spend the rest of his life paying? He couldn't answer that question, not yet.

Still, nothing permanent had been done to him so far, and he had yet to see just how he would (maybe) be losing his cock and balls. Sure, the metal bands hurt, but they could probably be removed with a pair of pliers and some determination. Heck, aside from some minor bruising, he'd probably come out of this just fine. Assuming he didn't go through with it all the way, of course.

He'd see how the girl intended to remove his manhood, then decide. Though he knew which way he was already leaning. Losing everything was just too large a price to pay, even for a thrill as large as this. He promised himself that he would be strong, that he would resist the dangerous allure of his fantasies, no matter what..

..Which was when the girl lead him out of the empty room with the sinks and banding machine, and into a busy workspace crowded with girls preparing for the looming deadline of the store's morning opening. He stopped and stared for a moment, before the girl leading him tightened her grip and yanked harder on his cock, pulling him along behind her with an annoyed huff.

"Come on, don't dawdle." she cajoled, tutting at him.

The girls around them were cutting and packaging meat, rendering down whole slabs of beef and pork into prepackaged portions. Stacks and stacks of miscellaneous cuts sitting in styrofoam flats and wrapped in clear plastic showcased how busy they'd already been that morning. He, a completely naked man being led by his bound and purpling penis, should have stuck out like a sore thumb among all this, but it seemed that the butcher girls could scarcely be bothered to take notice of him.

His manhood, though, did draw a few comments as the sales girl and he passed through the throng. Apparently it was notable, even if he was not.

"Hey, nice one you got there, Jaz." one of the butcher girls said, glancing at his banded manhood appraisingly for a moment, before she brought down the cleaver she was wielding against an innocent cut of meat with a loud chop. "Bit late for manmeat though, isn't it?"

"There's still a few minutes." the girl leading him replied, waving aside the other girl's concern. "I can have it snipped off and ready with the others in plenty of time."

His breath began coming in fast gulps. Being dragged through all these young women while naked, all of whom seemed to view him as nothing more than a walking cut of unharvested meat, was playing directly into his arousal and his fantasies. Even through the pain of his bands, he could feel his libido pulsing up from the base of his groin, as if trying to somehow make his member even more impossibly erect than it already was.

"Here we go, then." the girl said, as she came to a stop before a curious tool. "Just slip your meat into the slot, and I can have it off in a jiffy!"

The tool the girl was pointing at was nothing more than a glorified stainless steel paper cutter, with a "U" shaped slot that was obviously meant for his manhood to rest in. He had honestly expected something a little more intimidating and dramatic, but he supposed that the robust looking device was simply the most efficient way of harvesting a man's genitals.

He gulped, trembling, looking at the thing that could spell the end of his sexuality.. if he let the girl (who was tapping her foot somewhat impatiently as she waited on him) use it on his manhood. He could still walk away after all, right now, and have satisfied his curiosity and lost nothing for it.

He almost did it, too. He almost turned away and left with his manhood intact..

..But then he saw the little tray to the side of the cutter. The tray already holding all the rest of the meat the girl beside him had harvested from other volunteers earlier in the morning. Late indeed.

He gasped, his breath hitching in his chest as he saw four sets of men's organs, each cleaned, banded, slightly purple, and neatly trimmed off at the end, laying side by side on the tray. Ready to go into the display case with all the other premium meats the store offered up for its customers' pleasure. Ready for some hungry, anonymous girl to come along and choose them, pay for them, and claim them as her own.

He looked down at his own manhood, so similar to the ones on the tray before him, save for one small, easily remedied difference: it was still attached. His mind went to the pretty blonde girl from the day before, to the delighted expression she had worn as she took her purchase in hand, and the way she'd licked her lips in anticipation of how it would taste. Of how happy the sales girl had been to provide it to her, and the easy, casual small talk they had made about how to best prepare it. The entire scenario would never have happened if some unknown man hadn't volunteered his everything a scant few hours before, making it all possible. Just like four more unknown men already done today, as evidenced by the neat line of severed, cooling male flesh right in front of him. How could he do any less, especially when such a large part of him seemed to desire it just as much as everyone else apparently did?

He made his decision, the only decision really, though the spike of arousal he felt at it was accompanied by a similar spike of immobilizing fear.

"Come on.. that's it.." the girl beside him said, speaking softly to him as he began to hyperventilate at the magnitude of what was about to happen. "You've done so well.. let's go ahead and finish this, alright?"

She was speaking to him like he was a small child or a panicking animal (which he supposed wasn't that far off from the truth), as she guided him forward toward the cutter. It seemed that he wasn't the first man, the first volunteer, to freeze up at the penultimate moment. She obviously had experience in helping the men she harvested meat from take those final few irrevocable steps.

She pulled the heavy scissoring blade up from its closed position, and the noise the gleaming steel made as it rasped slightly against its base made him shudder. It sounded exactly and appropriately like an enormous pair of scissors. The sales girl, who was now his butcher girl, he supposed, hefted his banded genitals and laid them gently in the slot at the center of the cutter.

"There we go.. hold still, okay?" his butcher murmured softly to him, patting him reassuringly on the bottom as she snugged his hips up firmly against the machine.

His breath was coming fast now, so fast that his chest was heaving and his stomach quivering. He watched in horrified, aroused fascination as his butcher girl laid one hand firmly on his imperiled manhood, and one hand on the handle of the cutting blade.

She brought the blade slowly down to the base of his manhood, tugging slightly on his genitals to get the little space between the twin bands perfectly aligned with the steel cutting edge. He felt the kiss of cool, sharp metal for just a moment, on that little bit of heated, trapped flesh, and his breath seized in his chest. A single pulse of pure arousal and pleasure thrummed from deep in his groin out to the tip of his doomed cock: the last thing that it would ever feel.

The girl pushed down on the cutter blade, firmly and surely, and snipped his manhood off with a quiet, unceremonious "snik!". His entire sexuality gone, in just the barest fraction of a second. Forever and always.

"G-gah!" he gasped, bucking away from the cutter instinctively, and far, far too late.

"Well, that takes care of that!" his butcher exclaimed, her cheerful, happy tone returning, and at complete odds with his own stunned shock.

"Ha.. Haaagh!" he groaned, as the pain of his sudden emasculation began to make itself known, robbing his legs of strength.

Less than he had honestly expected and feared, but still far more than he could handle, the pain made him curl forward, cupping his hands uselessly over his now empty groin. He would have fallen over, had his butcher not caught him.

"Now, now, none of that." she chided. "It's not that bad, you can stay on your feet."

Easy for her to say, but there was nothing else for it. Slowly, with her help and while gasping and whimpering in pain, he managed to right himself.

"There you go.." she said, beaming at him. "Well, you know the way out. Make sure to pick up your clothes as you leave, right? You'd be surprised at how many guys forget!"

She shot him a wink, while he looked on incredulously. He'd just lost everything that had made him a man at her small hands, and now she expected him to simply leave? Not giving him even a courtesy thank you?

"Oh, and thanks for coming in and volunteering!" she added a moment later as an afterthought, with a cheerful chirp. "Yours is definitely the best of today's batch! Maybe even the best of the week!"

He glanced down at his severed manhood.. no, at the manmeat that now no longer belonged to him, which was still laying in the cutter. His butcher, apparently dismissing him from her mind, turned and scooped it up. She hefted it in her hands for a moment, looking at it critically, before depositing it in the tray with the rest of the day's volunteered meat.

Of course she expected him to leave. He had given up his everything, which was all that she had wanted from him in the first place. Without his manhood, he was just some (former) guy standing around and getting in the way of all the work going on.

The sales girl, his butcher, picked up the meat filled tray and bustled off, out through another door. Leaving him nude and alone, injured and vulnerable, in a room filled with knife wielding butcher girls, some of whom were now glancing up at him speculatively.

"Hey there.." one said, as she approached from one side, eying him appraisingly as she ran her knife back and forth over a sharpener. "Now that Jaz is done with you, have you thought about volunteering anything else?"

"We could always use more meat." she said, with a knowing little smile at his horrified look.

He fled.

–

Judging by the laughter that had followed him out of the butchering room, the girl had probably been joking with him. Probably. He did remember to collect his clothes, though putting on his pants with his crotch sending waves of agony up through his guts had been quite the challenge.

He left through the "DELIVERIES" door and managed to make his way around to the front of the store just in time to see the sign change from "CLOSED" to "OPEN", and he decided to go in. He needed to go in.

He shuffled through the aisles slowly, taking small steps in order not to aggravate his wound, making his way toward the back of the empty store to where the meat department was. It was morbid, perhaps, but he had to see..

..And there it was, sitting in the display case filled with assorted prime meats, in pride of place at the very front.. His manhood.. his former cock and balls.. on sale, for fifteen dollars and ninety-five cents per pound, with all the rest of the manmeat. His fantasies come true.

His simply stared at what had been his pride and joy for several moments, sitting there lined up in a neat row with four other sets of pale purple male organs, each available for anyone to who came by and decided they wanted them. Would his be the first set of the day purchased? They were the largest after all, and perhaps the most attractive, though he had to admit that he was not in a position to judge that with any amount of impartiality.

Movement out of the corner of his eye distracted him, and he turned to see a pretty girl, with skin nearly as dark as ink and meticulously and beautifully braided hair, walk along the meat displays slowly. She seemed to be browsing idly, somewhat unusually for someone at the market at such an early hour, pausing occasionally to gaze into the cases and tap thoughtfully at her full, pouty bottom lip.

She walked past him without seeming to notice him, and stopped briefly by his side, staring into the same display that he had been looking at. She mused on the meat.. on the manmeat available for purchase for a moment, then made a small, dismissive humming noise and moved on. He watched her walk away with somewhat mixed feelings.

He wondered exactly what she had been thinking. Had she just been idly browsing, like he had thought, and had no more interest in buying manmeat than in any of the other meats on display she'd passed by? Or had she been interested, but underwhelmed by the selection available? Had the manmeat in the display case simply been of insufficient quality to measure up to her standards? None of the sets of cocks and balls, including his own, good enough for her? There was precedent for such an opinion. The blonde girl from the day before had been initially disappointed in the last, apparently under-sized piece of manmeat in the display case, after all. Even if she had eventually purchased it anyway.

Or had the girl with the braids simply been dismissive of the idea of manmeat in the first place, perhaps even disgusted by it?

Or maybe, just maybe, she was amused at the thought of some guy letting his cock and balls be cut off, in the possibly vain hope that a girl would wander by and want to buy them. His sacrifice the butt of her own private joke. The idea was so perverse that it was almost appealing, in a way. He supposed that he would never know what her true opinion had been.

No matter, he reflected as he turned to take one last look at his manhood, before beginning to shuffle slowly back out of the store. The thought of the blonde girl's happy smile passed though his mind again, and he was content. His cock and balls, the meat he'd volunteered at such a large cost to himself, would find its buyer sooner or later today. A hundred people might walk past his severed organs and dismiss them or ignore them outright, but it only took one person, one special, hungry girl passing by to stop and see their potential, for it to all be worth it.

As he walked through the store, he saw several more attractive girls moving through the aisles, picking out their purchases with care or with whimsy. He wondered if one of them would be the one to select his former meat, picking it out from among all the other options to be had. He would dearly love to lurk in the market and find out, to see what the girl who chose to purchase and eat his manhood would look like, but his ruined crotch was beginning to scream at him. He had the feeling that if he didn't get home (or to a hospital) soon, he would pass out in the street.

He knew he would probably come to regret what he had done, what he had given up. Hell, he was even regretting it more than a little right now, as his abdomen lit on fire with every small movement he made.. But even the pain couldn't take away the warm little glow inside him, the embers of his arousal, at the thought of his cock and balls laying in that meat display case. Of the knowledge that soon, some girl or woman, one whom he would never know and who would never know him, would be made happy because of his sacrifice. As happy as the slim blonde from the day before had been, as she'd carried the manmeat she'd purchased out of the store.

He would miss his manhood.. but it was now in its proper place, right where it needed to be. And eventually, it would find its way to where it truly belonged: resting in the belly of some happy, satisfied woman. Slowly beginning to break down and digest, even as she enjoyed his manmeat's lingering, hopefully delicious aftertaste.

The thought filled him with no small measure of his own happiness. So much so that he idly wondered, as he made his slow, careful way home, just how serious that one girl had been back in the butchering room..

..He did have a lot more meat that he could volunteer, after all.

END

Woo, this one just flowed out of me. I got the idea while browsing through my "Beautiful Faces" folder, lingering on one cute blonde in particular and wondering what it would be like to see her walk into a market and casually ask for some manmeat. Thus, the seed of the story was planted, and my imagination ran with it. I cranked this whole thing out in one long binge writing session, and I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. It's nice to write a fun consensual story every once in awhile, even if most of the rest of my stuff often isn't. I hope you guys like it.

Hey, how about a little informal survey.. just for fun? If you volunteered your meat to the market, who would you want to come and buy it? A spouse? A friend? A family member? Perhaps a certain celebrity? Someone else, someone anonymous? No need for names, just a brief description of what they might look like, who they are to you, and why they want to buy your manmeat. And on the other side of the coin.. if you're the one buying the manmeat instead, who would you want it to have come from? Why are you buying it, and what would you do with it once you have it? I've very curious about your responses!

My reproduction /tribute of a story I read years ago on another site. I've looked and can't find it anymore. I’ve tried to reproduce it as completely and faithfully as possible from memory. The original was far better.

If anyone has the original or any info about the author please let me know so that I can properly credit the author.

Sorry for not finishing others before starting a new one but I woke up with this one begging to be written so I figured I'd make a start ;-) Enjoy!

Pt 1

Karl woke up without his alarm. A glance at the clock radio beside his bed told him it was a little after 8am – quite late for him to be waking up but it was a Sunday at least, and his birthday! The single father doubted his daughter Becky would likely wake up for at least another hour so, slipping out of bed and pulling on his robe, her decided to go make himself a coffee and bring it back up to bed to enjoy the peace and quiet.

As he made his way down the stairs, however, he was surprised to hear the hissing of a frying pan and to smell the unmistakable aroma of cooking bacon. This was nothing, however, compared to the surprise that greeted him as he entered the kitchen.

“Hi Daddy!” Becky grinned, glancing away from the frying pan for a moment, “What are you doing up?”

“I, umm… I wanted a coffee.” Ten year old Becky was standing completely nude in front of the stove. This was not like her – she was usually so modest, having mastered the beach-towel dance at the age of six. Yet here she was, preparing breakfast in her birthday suit, even ‘though it was his birthday! Her dirty-blonde hair was washed, dried and brushed neatly and she even seemed to be wearing a little subtle makeup. Clearly she had not simply fallen out of bed and not bothered to get dressed!

“Go back to bed, I’ll bring it up!” Becky turned slightly towards him and Karl could not deny he liked what he saw. Although puberty had yet to hit her, his young daughter’s body was pleasingly feminine with soft curves and legs many adult women would kill for! Those legs were topped with a cute bubble-butt which was just crying out to be spanked. Her nipples were pale pink, perfectly round and slightly perky, her belly curved outwards appealingly and the soft lips below were smooth and puffy. Karl shook his head to clear his thoughts – this was his daughter and she was ten years old, he should not be thinking of her that way. “Shouldn’t you put on an apron or something?” he suggested, trying his best to sound like a parent.

“Nah I’m being careful,” the little girl assured him, “plus I’m nearly done! Now go back upstairs so I can bring you breakfast in bed!”

“Is that my birthday treat?” Karl asked with a grin, pleased that his daughter knew him so well and understood how much he enjoyed bacon and eggs. Her attention was back on the cooking and, before going back up the stairs, he took a last guilty look at her bare bottom. Most of him hoped that she had simply been lazy after her shower and would put on her party clothes before bringing him his breakfast, avoiding further awkwardness and feelings he did not want to have to deal with, but there was a smaller but still significant part of him that hoped she stayed just as she was.

Slipping off his robe, Karl slid back into bed and wondered if he had time for a little private fun before breakfast arrived but he had barely got as far as forming the thought in his head when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in!” he called. The door swung open and his daughter, still as naked as the day she was born, walked in carrying a tray on which was a plate of delicious-looking bacon and scrambled eggs on toast, a knife and fork, a big mug of coffee and a small vase with a single rose from the bush in the garden in it. She had clearly gone to a lot of effort to make his birthday breakfast a special occasion. “Wow!” Karl grinned, sitting up in bed, “That looks good! Smells delicious too!” With a happy smile, Becky walked around to his side of the bed and set the tray on his lap.

“Happy Birthday, Daddy!” she gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek then hopped up onto the bed to watch him eat. She sat at the foot of the bed, cross-legged like a forest pixie, the way she usually did when she wanted to chat to him, but it had been a good five or six years since she had done so in the nude and Karl was glad to have the food to focus on so he wouldn’t have to think too much about whether to look at her or not.

As well as her looks, Becky had clearly inherited her mother’s cooking skills – it was one of the many things that had made Karl fall in love with her almost thirteen years earlier. It made him a little sad to think of his wife and how things had ended. They had met while she was in addiction recovery and, for a while, things seemed to be going well with her new life of domestic bliss but the old demons had reasserted themselves and the relationship had broken down. By the time Becky was born, Karl had barely recognised the woman he married. When their daughter was six months old she had left, never to return. Occasionally she would write to them from wherever she happened to be at the time, usually enclosing photographs of her with her latest boyfriend and Karl could not recall the same man ever appearing in two photographs. He never his the pictures or the truth behind them from Becky but she had never been that interested in the mother who had never been there for her – she loved her Daddy and he was all she needed.

“That was great!” Karl beamed at his young daughter who sat excitedly at the end of the bed, rocking a little in apparent anticipation. Was she really that hyped to find out what he thought of his breakfast? It was not as if this was the first time she had cooked for him, although it was the first time she had done it as a surprise and without any supervision.

“Really? You enjoyed it?” She crawled forward on the bed and took the tray from his lap, setting it on the floor.

“Very much so!” he grinned, “A lovely birthday treat! So, what she we do today? I thought maybe we’d go swimming and then maybe get milkshakes?”

“Sorry, Daddy,” she giggled, “I’ve already got your day all planned out! That was just the first part of your birthday treat!” Before Karl could ask what she meant, she pulled down the duvet exposing his already semi-hard penis. To his shock, the naked little girl lay on her belly and began to fondle him.

“What are you doing?” he asked in a mixture of horror and fascination.

“Ssh,” she grinned up at him and put a finger to her lips, “just enjoy! I hope I do this right. I’ve been watching videos about how to do it but I didn’t have a really willy to practice on!” Even if he had wanted to, Karl would not have been able to keep his manhood from responded to his daughter’s gentle touch and very soon he was rock hard. Becky lowered her head and first began to kiss and lick the tip of her fathers erect member, then began to take him in her mouth and rock back and forth. For someone with no experience, she was displaying a great amount of natural talent! Just when Karl felt he was close to climax, however, she stopped and sat up, straddling his legs and smiling knowingly at him.

“Why did you stop?” he asked weakly, forgetting for a moment that not long before he had been wondering why she started! It was not even 9am and already the day was one of the strangest and most exciting he had ever experienced.

“Because I don’t want you to cum in my mouth!” She informed him, matter-of-factly.

“Oh, okay.” Karl remained confused but knew he should respect his suddenly-knowing daughter’s boundaries. “Okay,” he smiled, “so just play with it in your hand a little and I’ll…”

“No, silly!” She cut him off with an endearing giggle.

“Then what…?”

“I want you to cum inside me!” She lifted herself up and slid forward, rubbing her wet pussy along the length of his rock-hard manhood, back and forth a few times before positioning herself so the tip was at her tight, virgin opening.

“Wait!” Karl took hold of her forearms gently, “Are you sure about this?”

“Very sure!” She grinned, “Now stop fussing and just enjoy!”

“But isn’t it…” he tried to protest.

“Look, I wasn’t going to tell you this yet but as of yesterday I’m a fully signed-up meat-girl so, as far as the law in concerned you can fuck me as if I was a frozen chicken or a pig’s head!” Karl was not sure which shocked him more, the news or her blunt language but before he could ask any more questions, she slid town, taking him deep inside her. Becky’s eyes grew wide as she felt her father’s hard cock inside her where she had never previously felt anything thicker than her finger!

Karl tried to hold back his orgasm, giving Becky a chance to build to her own. Enjoying this surreal moment more than her ever could have imagined he would, he ran his hands down her back before caressing her buttocks as they rose up and down then brought his hands around to her chest, caressing her small, hard nipples with the tips of his fingers. The redness of his daughter’s face and the way she sped up her rocking told him that she was close. When he could no longer contain himself any more, he grabbed the little girl’s hips and pulled her down, pushing deep inside her as he exploded. The scream of pure ecstasy she gave out showed him that she had reached her climax at exactly the same moment he had! Exhausted, he flopped back onto the bed.

After she had taken a few moments to recover, Becky cuddled up next to him, her arms folded on her chest and her chin resting on them.

“So, Daddy,” she grinned, “did you enjoy the second part of your birthday treat?”

“Oh very much!” Karl stroked her hair fondly for a few moments before her strange comment returned to his mind. “But what did you mean about being a meat-girl?” he asked, frowning a little.

“That’s part three of your treat!” she grinned, “This afternoon, all your friends are coming over for a barbecue and I’m the party food!”

“What?” Karl sat up, surprised that anything could shock him after the morning he’d had already but discovering that it was possible. “You’re going to be cooked?”

“Yup!” Becky grinned, “The man is delivering the spit at eleven and your friends start arriving at two. If you put me on to cook by two thirty then I guess I should be ready to eat by four!”

“But I don’t know if…” Karl slumped back onto the bed, one hard embracing his daughter and his other massaging his eyes. “Perhaps we should talk about this some more? Are you really sure you want to be cooked and eaten?”

“What’s wrong?” she giggled, wiggling her cute round bottom, “Don’t you think I look tasty?”

“Well, yes,” Karl was forced to admit, “But…”

“Look,” she grinned cheekily, clearly having anticipated his reluctance, “you can cancel my registration if you like and I’ll go back to just being a normal girl but oh dear!” She put her hand to her mouth in an exaggerated expression of surprise as if a thought had just occurred to her. “That means you just fucked a little girl! That’s a pretty serious crime, isn’t it? I guess you’ll be spending your next few birthdays in jail!”

“You got me there!” Karl laughed, relaxing a little, “Seems you really have thought of everything! I guess after discovering all these new skills I didn’t realise you had, I hoped I might have a little bit longer to enjoy them!”

“Well it’s only nine fifteen,” Becky reminded him. “There’s nearly two hours before the spit guy comes and we have to start setting up the party!”

“Well then,” Karl smiled, wrapping his little girl in his arms and pulling her close, “I guess we should make the most of that time, eh?”

Heather kicked her heels off after a hard day of work. Her white socks which where a size too small clung to her sweaty feet, which shapes could clearly be made out from beneath the socks. She let her red hair fall down to her upper back and let out a soft moan as she sat down on the hotel's chair, her voice almost unnaturally light. She slid out a photo from one of her black dresses hidden pockets. Her full, red lips curled into a smile as her green eyes surveyed the Asian girl who couldn't have been older than seven the picture was off. The girl had made an easy target, and though the assassin hadn’t the slightest idea why anyone would want her dead, she enjoyed doing the job. Though Heather was almost in her forties, she didn’t look a day over twenty-five. Her black, low cut dress hugged her body tightly, emphasizing both her C cup breasts and large firm ass. Her legs were slender and pale, and her arms much the same. Her face was pale and delicate, especially her nose. She stood with another groan as her back popped several times, but suddenly she felt her breath being taken away. Heather yelped as she felt the wire slip around her throat and ganged as it tightened around her. The assassins socked feet stumbled backward as whoever held the wire pulled her, before her attacker finally sat on the hotel's bed, pulling Heather into their lap. And then Heather heard the voice she never expected she would hear in a situation such as that one
“You’re getting sloppy mom” Katlin, the daughter of the assassin said. Heather went wide-eyed as she kicked her socked feet frantically and gripped at the wire. Suddenly she felt a tongue that she could only imagine was her daughters, run across her cheek. “Back when you were training me, you would have beaten me for how pathetic of a job I was doing, hiding from you. I was expecting you to notice me the second you walked in the door, and maybe put up a little fight. But this mom? Jeez, you’re really losing your touch” Katlin said in a mocking tone. Heather felt hot tears run down her cheek as she finally started to grasp the reality of the situation. Her daughter, her own flesh and blood daughter who she raised since she was a baby, was trying to kill her. Not only was she trying, but from the looks of things, she might succeed. She didn’t think she could break Katlin’s grasp of the wire, and she couldn’t find a weapon close enough to grab. She started to elbow her attackers’ side but couldn’t let a hit with much power behind it.

“You can’t imagine how surprised I was when I was scrolling through the dark web, looking for a new contract, and I found that someone had posted a hit for my one and only mom. I almost called to warn you but decided that what the hell might be fun to kill my own mom”. Heather felt her chest begin to burn as her nipples stiffened. She realized that she was really going to die here, that she wasn’t going to make a last-minute escape like she always had. “Don’t worry mom, I won’t waste you. I’m going to play with your perfect body to my heart's content. I’ll take plenty of pictures too. I’ll probably give a few to Billy for our anniversary present, that way I don’t have to spend any of your contract money on him” she said. Heather felt her body start to weaken, her kicks slowed, and everything started to go black. Her body started to spasm, and she gave her daughter an involuntary lap dance. Katlin moaned softly as she blushed. She looked almost exactly like her mom, but instead of looking twenty-five, she looked closer to fourteen but was in fact sixteen. The only other difference between mother and daughter was that Katlin had neck length hair, a face full of freckles, and perky little B-cups.

“I can’t believe that out of all the girls I’ve killed. That my mom is gonna be the best of them” she said. Suddenly Heather found a new burst of strength, she lashed out violently, flailing her small body around, but the strength began to fade as soon as it appeared.
“Woah mom,” Katlin said with a surprised laugh as her mother’s last, desperate attempt to save herself already started to slow down. “Guess you do have some fight in ya,” she said. Once again Heather's vision began to darken. Her ears rang and she began to feel cold. She was vaguely aware of a wet feeling on her crotch and breast, and though she no longer understood it, it filled her with shame. Before her mother could fully pass out however, Katlin grabbed her by the chin and twisted. There was a swift, satisfying snap as the life of Heather Lain, age 39. Was snuffed out. Katlin pushed her mom off her, and Heather crashed into the floor with her legs sprawled out giving her daughter a perfect view of her once white, now yellow panties. Katlin whistled as she jumped to her feet. With her foot, she flipped her dead mom over. Her eyes were rolled to the back of her head, and her tongue was hanging out in a comical fashion, saliva dripping onto the floor. Lipstick was streaked down her chin, and a purple mark lay across her twisted neck. Her slender body still twitched slightly, and wet spots had appeared on her crotch and breasts. She leaned down and started to undo her mother's dress as she pressed her lips against the dead woman’s. With her own tongue, she lifted her mom’s tongue into her mouth, playfully wrestling with it. Finally, the black dress slid off revealing Heather's slender figure. Her little pale body was covered in sweat which she worked up during her final fight, and her white panties and bra were soaked in both that and some other liquid. First, she undid her mother’s bra, exposing her Heathers large breast, their perky pink nipples leaking milk. Katlin smirked.

“Oh, dear mom,” she said leaning down, and lapping the milk from Heather's tits. The milk was both sweet, and salty, the salty probably coming from the sweat. The taste was oddly nostalgic which at first confused Katlin, but she soon remembered that this wasn’t the first time she’d tasted her mothers’ milk. Soon she lowered herself-down the woman’s body and slid her panties off. Katlin grinned at her mother’s piss-soaked red bush and slide her fingers inside. Suddenly more pee leaked out of her pussy, dowsing Katlin’s fingers. She snickered, pulling her fingers out resulting in a squirt of pee. She lifted her moms’ slender leg up and pressed her face against the large socked foot. The smell was wonderful, a mix of sweat and sweet apple soap. She pulled the sock off, and smirked at her mother’s large smooth foot, with her nails painted red. She licked the foot until it was soaked in her saliva before pulling down her own pants, and polka-dotted underwear, exposing her shaved pussy to the open air. She pressed her pussy against her mothers. Katlin moaned as their vaginas met and slowly began rubbing. At first, the pleasure was small, but as she slowly started to increase as she humped her mom faster, till the pleasure was almost explosive. She pulled her mom's foot up to her face once again and started to lick. The pleasure and the taste of her mother's foot soon became overwhelming and with a cry of ecstasy, she squirted all over her mother's piss-soaked crotch. Her breathing slowed as she lifted herself off the naked corpse. She took a few pictures with her phone and started to debate how to get rid of her mother, Heather's corpse.

Using the old name because of the age of the protagonist. I also have another Pere Fouettard story in the works but ran out of time today! Like many of my stories, this one has been kicking around my head in one form or another for a few years. Hope you enjoy!

Pt 1

Dinah stood behind the glass, looking out at the sea of faces peering at her and wondering if she should wave or just stand stand still and let them look. The pretty, olive-skinned nine year old who had long dark hair, big dark eyes and was just on the right side of chubby had visited this museum many times in the past, like everyone from her town and others near by, and had spent a fair amount of time looking through this very glass. Just never before from this side, and never before in the nude!

Given the almost total lack of other attractions in the town and the relatively broad scope and low entry cost of the museum, it had been the location of nearly every school trip and bad-weather family outing she could remember. Whatever they had officially come to look at, no visit was complete without a trip to the display for which their strange little local museum was nationally famous.

Lined up, behind thick glass, as they had been for over a hundred and fifty years, were twelve naked, human figures, six male, six female, arranged in pairs according to age and intended to show the physical differences at different stages of development. The first two, on a raised platform, were very young babies, almost new-borns. Next was a pair of young children around the age of four or five, then a pair just before the onset of puberty, aged somewhere between nine and eleven, then a pair in their mid-teens, a pair of young adults, maybe nineteen or twenty years old and finally a middle-aged couple. Such displays were not, in themselves, so unusual. The Natural History Museum in London had one similar with single-colour, anatomically correct mannequins and similar displays could probably be found in museums of a scientific inclination all over the country but there was one thing that made the display in Dinah’s local museum totally unique.

Instead of mannequins and wax-works, the figures were the preserved and mounted skins of real people, their skeletons displayed behind them so their inner structure could be compared with the outer. A plaque by the side of the babies, bearing the official story behind the figures, explained that the people who had been stuffed were cadavers purchased from among those who died at the local work-house by a public-spirited local businessman, keen to advance the knowledge of science and human biology among the working classes. There had been rumours for and speculation for many years, however, fuelled by the occasional report of the discovery of a diary, account books or a death-bed confession and mostly prompted by the generally healthy appearance of the specimens that they had not simply suffered a fortuitously coincidental collection of accidental and natural deaths but rather that living people had been purchased from the Workhouse authorities before being killed and skinned to create this famous display. It was observed by those who speculated that this would be consistent with the way the upper echelons of Victorian society viewed those beneath them.

For her part, it had never really occurred to Dinah to engage in such speculation and, like most girls of her age had spent most visits simply giggling at the willies on the male figures, especially that of the teenage boy which was surprisingly small compared to the young man and made even funnier by the confidence of his pose. She knew most of the boys liked to look at the boobs on the teenage girl and young woman and that everyone laughed at how saggy the middle-aged woman’s were, since she had borne several children. When she was very little, she had thought they were real, living people just standing very still, much like she was doing now, and wondered if they ever got hungry or bored and if they minded being looked at with no clothes on. As she grew older she had come to understand that they were dead people by how they had died or why these particular people had been chosen had never really bothered her. After all, they had been dead a very long time so did it even really matter?

There had been some restoration work on the figures over the years, of course, and it was part of the museum volunteers’ routine to gently dust them off and check for any damage or deterioration but there was never anything that significant. Until the day that a certain infestation of some kind of black fungus was found on the back of the leg of the pre-pubescent girl. At first it had simply been scraped off but when it returned only a day or two later, the infected patch of skin was carefully removed and filled in with soft wax. But no more than a week later, the fungus appeared on her back and then, over the next few days, her chest, neck, arms, face and almost every other part of her body. There were attempts to treat the taxidermy chemically but to no avail. The fungus began to eat away at the up-until-now preserved skin, leaving large sections looking as if they had been raggedly torn out. Eventually, after removing the figure from the display and isolating it for a few days, it was decided that it must be destroyed to prevent the spread of the fungus to the other figures. To the sorry of everyone who knew it was happening, the stuffed Victorian girl was incinerated.

This left the museum and indeed the whole town with a problem. Were they to simply leave the display incomplete? Replace the lost girl with a picture or waxwork? Various suggestions were put forward, these along with others such as paying live girls to stand in the place of the figure, were dismissed as either impractical or against the spirit of the original display. Eventually, to the surprise of the local residents and great interest of the National and even Internation press, it was decided that a new volunteer would be sought to be stuffed, mounted and replace the Victorian girl in the display. At first, it was agreed to wait three months to see if a suitable corpse could be found but, when the end of the waiting period came with no cadaver available, it was finally agreed that a young girl could be euthanised to provide the new exhibit.

That is where Dinah’s involvement in these events began.

Greetings denizens of Gurochan, I am MissSabby; you may also call me by my pen name, Sabrina Bowman.

Some of you have probably seen me, and my stories, on Fetnoir. I will now be writing stories here, as well.

Pretty much all of these stories will be new and fresh, but I probably will import some of my Fetnoir stories at some point. I can’t guarantee it’ll be soon, or that I’ll import them all at once.

A lot of these stories, but not all of them, will generally feature myself in scenarios that I cannot write about on Fetnoir; namely, stories where I’m younger than eighteen (currently 26 irl), or pregnant. So, I’m issuing a pedo and teen warning for anyone who scrolls down further. My age in-story will hover between eleven and fifteen, but can go as low as eight (the age I started thinking about sexual things, and close to the time that my darker fantasies started to develop as well.) However, many of my stories will include other victims, who may be much younger than that.

The other warning I should give concerns pissing and scat. I tend to be realistic, and, realistically, death is messy. Though, post-mortem urination is common in many of these stories, shitting isn’t. I don’t have a scat fetish, so there won’t be much focus on it outside of making death scenes realistic; if shit or piss ends up on/in someone, it’s merely because of where the bodies ended up the moment they died. If I have a post-mortem sex scene, I will either skip mentioning of the victim shitting themselves, or have their rapist clean them up before sex.

As for sex scenes, some stories will have them, others will not; I won’t force a sex scene into a story just for the sake of having one.

Now, let’s get to some stories.

As a 16 year old teenage girl, I never thought my life would be so violent. I never thought I would have so much power and control.

Never did I think a year ago that I would be where I am now.

I can't go back home and I can't talk to any of my old friends or even some family.

Nothing will go back to normal. This is my new normal.

I'll never leave this Island.

It's so fucked up. I never asked for this but now I can't imagine my life any other way.

My psychiatrist gave me this journal to keep my thoughts in one place. She said people - especially young girls like me - find it hard to transition to the island.

She said since I can't talk to anyone about the island that isn't on the island, this would help me.

Something about venting or whatever.

I think its stupid but apparently I I should log my thoughts about my transition and observations and thoughts about the island here as if I'm talking to someone.

That's what insane people do!

Am I insane? Maybe, I think everyone here is insane. But I then I would be normal? I dunno…

Well I guess I'll start by talking about myself and what the "island" is.

My name is Jasmine and I'm a 16 year old girl. Here in the island I actually have an official visual description just like anyone else.

Here it is I guess:

AGE: 16 YEARS
HEIGHT: 158.3 cm
WEIGHT: 42.2 kg
EYE COLOR: Green
HAIR COLOR: Brown
PIGMENTATION: Type III (Light Brown)

I can't believe how specific that is. They update this every 6 months!

Everyone is gonna know how skinny, flat, and lanky I am. Rude.

I've been living here since I was 15 and I can't stop thinking about my body since! I gotta work out and get some shape!

The island is not a bad place to live. Actually, its nice. Like really nice. Its basically a paradise if you're the right person.

Everyone tells me I'm lucky and that I am who I am and that some people are really unlucky here.

And I totally agree. There's some seriously fucked up shit that goes on here. It took a bit for me to get used to it. And I guess i still am getting used to it.

So the Island is a hidden place in the Bermuda Triangle.

Sounds crazy I know.

There's a reason planes and boats don't come here. It's because the U.S. Government doesn't want any unwarranted people or vehicles approaching this island.

This island holds some shady shit man. We got all the dirt here.

Pedo rings, private military development, money laundering, all that jazz.

Guess what this 16 year old girl is part of? Take a wild guess.

Except there's a bit more to it. More layers and complexity I guess.

One could assume that I am just a 16 girl used by dirty old rich men.

It's not untrue but there's more to it.

This island has a history. A very sexual history.

The historical culture in this island is centered around sexual freedom.

I have friends here that don't even know what virginity is. My best friend in the island, Lily, remembers the only two days in here life when she didn't have sex. And she's only 14!

And whew is she hot stuff. I guess centuries of attractiveness being the only incentive to reproduce resulted in fucking beautiful natives on this island.

But me, I'm no native. My father being some rich politician or something managed to bring our family here.

It's unclear if he wanted to be here or if he had to escape something.

All I know is he fucks my friend lily 10 times more than his wife, and I fucking hate it. Lily won't stop being gross about it.

My mom is the least sexual in the family. But she loves the island and has no issues with it apparently. Not even when lily and my dad get all fucking nasty in front of her.

I wonder if she has one of these journals too…

Nice thing about the island is that I don't have to go to school anymore. I actually have a job. Like a real adult full time job with responsibility and all.

I manage a tourist spot for dirty old men outside of the island who want to do fucked up shit to little girls.

You would think that I would feel unsafe. But I actually feel totally safe and I kinda like the job.

Before I lived on the island I would think only a deranged sociopath could work this job. But I guess you get used to it. Or as my psychiatrist says - desensitized.

Every morning from Monday to Friday I do an inventory of all the girls for the shift. And then I make a schedule for all the girls and then do another inventory of the girls at the end of the day and write a brief status report of the girls that are left.

It's a prefect job for a non native girl like myself. I could never be like Lily, doing her performance art with her high class status and all.

I really like lily. I want to date her. I want her to be my girl friend.

But that's not really a thing here. So at least we're best friends.

Was looking for a story read a while back. Was about a a kinda uneven fantasy fight club were a woman his fighting a were wolf. the were wolf rapes her and the resulting massive amount of were wolf cum makes her belly burst. Would put this under requests but that tab doesn't appear to work at the momment.

The Murderer Rises Up
"Genesis 1"
A serialized erotic psychomachia

I stroked my hard cock through my orange prison jumpsuit, feeling it
throb in anticipation. My cellmate groaned as he pulled out his
cock and let a loose a heavy flow of urine into our stainless steel
toilet. The sound of his urination reminded me of better times
when I would lie in my bed and listen to the rain falling onto the
eaves and the cars outside. The horror of my youth even corrupted
the positive memories I had of listening to the rain. I'd spend
entire nights listening to the rain and not sleepng at all.
Worrying over whether my mother would enter my room and rape me on
any particular night kept me awake. More often than not, my fears
were prophetic and my mom would stumble into my room drunk,
stinking of marijuana and cigarettes and ready to rock. One night
in particular was indelibly burned into my memory.

Mom slammed my bedroom door open, and my body defensively shot up in
the bed. I heard my blood pounding in my ears. My breath was quick
and shallow.

"Good morning, lover," mom slurred. Her body was silhoutted in the
brightly lit hall behind her, but I could tell she was naked. I
heard the soft whisper of her hands rubbing her own body. I saw her
hands cup her large breasts and push them together. They formed a
massive valley of cleavage.

"I'm so fucking horny tonight," Mom said as she approached my bed.
The right side of the bed gave as she sat down on it.

"We're going to fuck every which way we can," Mom said. She swung
her whole body onto the bed and scooted her ass back to the foot of
the bed so she was sitting on my feet.

"Lie back," she said. "First, I want you to watch me play with
myself." Mom rubbed her palm up and down against her hairy vagina.
She sighed with pleasure. Despite myself, I found the scene
stimulating and my cock began to stir.

She moved her fingers to the top of her cunt, where she told me many
times her clit was. With the tips of her fingers, she rubbed her
clit very quickly and screamed shrilly.

"Oh fuck, yes!" she laughed. As she continued stimulating her
clitoris, her other hand moved down to her cunt hole. She gently
pushed her index finger up inside her body. She slowly pulled it out
and pushed it back in.

"Ummmm," Mom moaned as her finger fucking quickened. Soon she had
two fingers rapidly flying in and out of her cunt. I could feel her
ass on my feet throught he blankets, jerking back and forth as her
lusts steadily devoured her.

"I want you to do this to me. I want you to do this to me with your
fucking cock. I want you to fucking fuck my brains out."

Obviously ready to go, mom got onto her knees on the bed. She worked
her way up my body until she straddled my face.

"Oh yes," Mom gasped. "Baby's going to fuck mommy tonight. Lord
Satan will be very proud." I looked up at her hairy snatch. No
matter how many times I saw it, it looked odd to me. It didn't look
like a natural part of the human body. It looked like the anatomy of
a space alien from some science fiction drawing. She mentioned Lord
Satan again. I didn't understand why she called Satan her Lord. I
always thought Jesus was Lord, like the priest said.

Mom lowered her cunt onto my face and rubbed it up and down the
contours of my face. Her long, bristly pubic hairs chafed and some
kind of moisture rubbed off onto me.

"Mmmmmmmm, maybe mommy'll suffocate and snuff you tonight by sitting
on your face. Then I'll fuck you again after you're dead."

Inadvertantly, in an attempt to get some fresh air, I opened my mouth.
Mom's pubic hairs tickled the inside of my mouth. After a few very
long minutes of rubbing herself up and down my face, Mom raised her
body off me. Some of her pubic hairs remained in my mouth. I
grimaced and tried to spit them out.

Mom laughed. "Aw, mommy's pubes got caught in baby's mouth." Even
though I considered my Mom's treatment torture, my cock was stiff as a
board and throbbing underneath the sheets. Mom moved her body back
down the bed and straddled my body. She trust her massive tits into
my face.

"Remember when you used to suck these? You used to make mommy cum so
fucking hard." She moved her chest from side to side, allowing first
one breast to rub across my face and then the other.

The chaos of the molestation stopped briefly when mom looked me
straight in the eyes.

"Close your eyes, baby," Mom said. I did. She leaned forward and
gently kissed my left eyelid, then licked it. She did the same with
my right eye lid. I opened my eyes. Her face was right in front of
mine. Her quick breath blew hot on my face. It stank of alcohol and
cigarettes. Her tounge extended and licked around the tip of my nose,
then went up into each of my nostrils. The tounge moved down and
licked around my lips. Then mom pressed her open mouth against mine.
Knowing what she wanted, I passively opened mine. Her wet tounge
snaked into my mouth and gently caressed my teeth and my tounge.

Mom reached out and grabbed my right arm. She brought my right hand
to her right breast and kneaded the flesh with my hand. Her tounge
explored every inch of my mouth. My head swam with conflicting
feelings: desire, guilt, and anger. I couldn't decide which was the
jusitified emotion.

With a loud smack, the kiss was over. Mom got off the bed and
quickly pulled the sheets off onto the floor. I could never remember
wearing any clothes tobed and tonight was no exception. My naked body
was totally exposed to Mom.

"Built just like your father. Look at that huge fucking hard cock,"
she said, climbing next to me on the bed. She took my aching cock
into her right handand moved her hand up and down it a few times,
spinning her hand a little with each stroke. The spinning of the hand
was something I didn't do when masturbating and made Mom's handjobs
that special.

"Shit," Mom said. "This is bigger than daddy's cock was." She took a
time-out from the stroking to smack my dick against her face. The
contact made a gentle slapping sound.

"Daddy always used to do this to mommy before he fucked her," Mom said.
I didn't know who my father was. Whenever I asked about him, Mom told
me he died before I was born, so telling me about him was useless.

Mom put one hand around the base of my cock, then her other hand
directly on top of that hand. The rest of my pole extended proudly
beyond her two fists.

"Jesus Christ, it must be a triple fister," Mom said in awe. She
resumed her stroking with a different technique and faster pace. With
one hand, she rapidly stroked up and down the length of my meat while
the other gently played with my nut sack. The pleasure paralyzed me.
I could only moan.

"You like when mommy gives you a hand job?" Mom asked with a wicked
smile.

It felt like a rubber band was stretching inside me. The rubber band
stretched as my pleasure increased, but a rubber band can only stretch
so far. My breath was quick and ragged. The molecules that made up
the rubber band were starting to snap. Mom could sense it. She
quickly closed her hot, warm mouth over my knob as she jerked me off
into her mouth.

I yelled as fire erupted within my entrails and my brain. My cock
spasmed and the wildfire spurted out of my body and into Mom's eager
mouth. She had stopped stroking me in the interest of focusing on
getting every drop of my semen into her mouth. When my orgasm finally
subsided, Mom cleaned off the portion of my cock in her mouth with her
tongue–its warm wetness gently caressing me.

Mom opened her mouth and moved her tongue around, stretching out
strands of my semen like cobwebs. She closed her mouth and I saw her
throat undulate as my seed began its journey through Mom's body. My
rod lied against my stomach, still stiff as a board.

"Lord Satan," Mom prayed, "bless this cum which your servant has
taken in the name of your service."

She took my rigid pole into her hand and began stroking me again.

"Baby, I love your cum more than ice cream. It helps keep my tits
big and my pussy wet. For years, I drank my daddy's and my brother's
seed, and look what it's done for me."

Mom stroked my cock in silence for a few minutes. First she licked
the top of my cock from the base to the top, then she did the same
with the bottom side. Roughly, she licked my nut sack several times,
like a dog thirstily lapping at a bowl of water. She opened her mouth
wide and sucked my left nut into her mouth. Her tongue gently massaged
it inside the refuge of her mouth. She repeated the process with my
other ball. Finally, she took my entire ball sack into her mouth
and moaned with pleasure.

Moving her mouth back to my steel pole, Mom closed her mouth over the
tip. She moved her face down towards my crotch, taking as much into
her mouth as she could. After she worked in about half, my dick hit
something sensitive inside her and she gagged. For several minutes,
Mom sucked up and down on my cock with smacking and slurping sounds.
The contrasts between hot while my penis was inside Mom's salivating
mouth and cool while outside and slick with saliva had me hard as a
rock and ready to fuck again.

With a loud smack, Mom sucked her way off my knob. "That's what I
love about you young guys," Mom said. "You're always ready to go,
even right after you cum."

Mom straddled my body again. I felt her hairy, wet cunt pressing
my dick against my stomach. "Hope you're ready to fuck your mommy
up her pussy and shoot your baby juice inside me. Let's make a
deformed incestuous baby. When it's born, we'll sacrifice it to
Satan and then eat it!" Planting one hand into the bed behind her,
she raised her ass into the air and with the other hand, guided my
throbbing pole to her cunt hole. She rubbed it up and down against
her vagina couple times, then used it to slapher genitals several
times. She moaned.

Finally, Mom pressed the head into the hole I had popped out of so
few years ago. Firmly, she pressed down onto my cock and inch by
inch, my turgid rod smoothly slid into her birth canal. With a sigh,
mom pressed her crotch against mine. The last few inches slid inside
her body. Her dense forest of hair pressed against my areas of sparse
coverage.

"Oh baby," Mom moaned. "You fill me up so fucking much. It feels
like you're going to split me in two and stab up through the back of
my throat. I've fucked niggers and none of them filled me up this
much.

She rotated her hips a couple times. She leaned forward for a few
seconds, then leaned back and placed her hands on my legs behind her.
I felt pressure on my legs as she raised her ass into the air. Inch
by inch, my cock slipped from the velvety confines of my mom's cunt.
Just as I thought I would pop out of her, Mom slammed her hips down
hard and my entire length disappeared inside her again.

"Ungh!" Mom screamed. She repeated this slow fucking several times,
each time shortening the time she waited before she raised back up
off my cock, until she had a steady pace going. The only light in
the room came through the open bedroom door, but I could clearly see
everything. I watched her breasts bounce up and down her chest as
she fucked up and down on my throbbing pole. They rolled gently
like waves. The concert of the sight of my dick slipping into her
pussy and slipping out all wet, and the sensations the fucking
produced in my body, caused a little drool to slip from the corner
of my open, panting mouth.

The bouncing tits seemed more stimulating, so I decided to watch
them. I really wanted to reach out and touch them, feel them in
my hands, maybe even lick them. I wanted to grab onto Mom's hips
or ass and brutally fuck her with all my might. But that would
be bad.

Mom stopped the fucking. She cupped her tits in her hands and
raised them slightly. "Touch me," she said. "I know you want
to." I passively lied there, like I had been the entire night.

Her face scrunched up as she punched me in the side of the face.
I screamed and started crying. "I said fucking touch me! That
means you fucking touch me!" she screamed. She spit in my face
then rained down a hail of punches onto my face. The sadness
and fear from my crying gradually transformed into a rage.

"You're going to fucking get yours, bitch," I thought.

I slowly raised my hands to her massive tits and held them.

"Oh yeah, hold mommy's tits while she fucks your huge nigger
dick," Mom moaned as she began humping up and down my cock
again.

Calling my dick a nigger dick fueled the fire of my anger.
Having a nigger loving whore for a mother was a disgrace.
She couldn't even lust after me for who I really was. She
had to pretend I was some spear chucking jungle bunny.
Even though she hung out with white power crowds, I knew
Mom actually preferred a potent black man.

Mom leaned forward over my torso, her breasts dangling over
me, and then she resumed nailing herself on my rod. Now I
could watch as her tits bounced around directly over my
face. Suddenly, she slapped me hard on the side of the
face.

"Mommy's kicking your pussy ass!" Mom laughed. The pace
and power of the fucking picked up, and my bed began
creaking underneath me.

"Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh fuck yeah!" Mom screamed as her
pussy sucked in and let go of my cock again and again.

She punched me very hard right on my right temple. I
closed my eyes and screamed in pain. Simultaneously,
my mom began screaming, and I felt her pussy begin
massaging my cock and a good deal of warm fluid began
flowing down my cock onto my crotch. Mom kept
screaming and the convulsions inside he vagina
continued seemingly forever. When it finally
subsided, she fell onto me, her breasts crushed
between us. She was panting as if she had just run a
5 minute mile.

I opened my eyes, and I panicked as I realized I couldn't see
out of my right eye. Mom must have blinded me with that punch.
After a few minutes of blinking and rubbing, I could see again,
although the vision through that eye was blurry. My head throbbed
and my face stung from the beating.

Mom finally stirred on my chest. She licked my right nipple.
"That was the best fuck I've ever had," she said with a smile.
She rubbed my chest and licked my other nipple.

"But we're not done yet. It's your turn to fuck me now," she said.
She got on her hands and knees on the bed–her ass facing me. I
could see her pussy and her asshole. "Do me doggy style."

I lied there, really wanting to fuck her like the slut she was, but
a sense of shame immobilized me.

"Fuck!" Mom said. She got off the bed and left the room. I sighed
with relief, thinking the sexual assault was finally over. Before
I had time to move, mom stormed back into the room with a huge
dagger in hand. She jumped onto the bed, straddled my body and
held the knife against my throat.

"Stop being such a fucking pussy! Do you know what happens to
pussies like you?! We sacrifice them to Satan because they're an
obstacle to the sinister dialectic! If you can't fuck me like a man,
you don't deserve life!"

With movements too quick for me to anticipate, Mom made two slashes
on my chest in the figure of an inverted cross. The cuts weren't
very deep, but they bled. She threw the knife on the floor next to
the bed and got back on her hands and knees.

I moved up behind her and slid my cockhead into her cunt hole. I
grabbed onto her hips and slammed my cock into Mom as hard as I could.

"Ohhhh!" she screamed. "Oh fuck, yeah! Fuck me hard"

I pulled out almost the entire way out of mom's pussy and held it out.

"What are you fucking doing?" mom said. "Get it back in there! Fuck me!"

Mom started pushing back with her ass, trying to fuck herself onto my
pole. I moved my hands onto her ass and prevented her from moving back
any further. I raised my right hand up and smacked it down onto Mom's ass
as hard as I could. She yelped and her ass jiggled beautifully. A red
mark in the shape of my hand settled into her flesh. I slammed my cock
back into her and slapped her ass several more times on both cheeks. I
worked up a good pace, thrusting my cock into and out of her pussy. My
crotch made a wonderful slapping noise as it repeatedly smacked into Mom's
round ass.

I grabbed onto her long jet black hair and pulled. The tug jerked her
head back, and she grunted.

"Oh, fuck, yes!" Mom panted. "Pull my hair! Punch me in the back of
the head."

As hard as I could, I punched my mom in the back of the head. Her hands
gave out and the front half of her body collapsed. Her ass was still up
in the air, so I continued fucking her. I gave her a quick one-two to
the back of her head. Mom collapsed flat onto her stomach unconscious.

Now that I was all worked up and my balls were aching, there was no way
I was stopping until I came. I leaned down and spread her ass cheeks,
looking at her brown, tight asshole. It looked like no one had ever
fucked it. A first time for everything. I inhaled deeply and caught
the powerful smell of shit. I licked at the dirty orifice and slightly
penetrated it with my tounge.

I kneeled between her thighs and guided my cockhead to the entrance of
her ass. I pushed gently against the hole. It didn't give and my cock
started sliding up her crack. I repositioned myself and pushed as hard
as I could and a few inches slid in. I positioned my body so my legs
were inside hers and I was supporting my upper body on my arms. My
cock continued its invasion of Mom's rear until about half of it was
inside her. Then, no matter how much I pushed, it seemed as if no more
would fit. With quick motions, I began pulling out a little and
shoving a little more back into her poop chute, until my entire cock
was inside her. My crotch pressed against the mound of her ass flesh.

I fucked mom's asshole as fast as I could, keeping as much cock inside
her ass as possible. After about half an hour, with sweat pouring down
my back and forehead, mom groaned and started moving again.

"I have to go the bathroom," she whined. "What's going on?" she asked.

"Shut the fuck up, cunt," I growled.

"Stop it! I don't like taking it there," she said.

"You'll fucking take it in your ass, and you'll fucking like it."

"It hurts, you're too big!"

Looking down, I was thrusting practically my entire length into and back
out of her abused asshole. I thought I saw blood on my pole. Her tight
asshole had a death grip on me. I hoped Mom was in pain. If I could
have, I would kill her with my cock. At least, I hoped I would ruin
Mom's asshole forever.

I was close to my breaking point. My thrusting became even faster and
harder as I felt the internal machinery preparing for an ejaculation.
Mom was crying and screaming frequently from the sodomy. I pounded into
her ass one final time. My cock shook as it shot my jism deep into her
hot bowels.

When I pulled out, a final shot splashed onto her asshole. I quickly
retrieved the knife from the side of the bed. Mom was still softly
sobbing on the bed. I sat on her back, pulled on her hair until her
head was tilted back, and slit her throat as deeply as I could. She
began thrashing around, vainly making a last ditch effort at
self-preservation.

I jumped off at the foot of the bed and mom rolled onto her back. Blood
shot up into the air from the wound on her neck. Some even hit the
ceiling. She looked up at me and reached out with one hand. Her
other hand clutched at her neck. The blood flowed anyway.

"Help me," she squeaked. I smiled and took my cock in hand. Aiming
straight for her mouth, a heavy stream of my hot urine flew right in,
causing her to make gurgling sounds. By the time I finished urinating
onto her face and neck, Mom was still despearately trashing around on the
bed, spraying blood everywhere and upsetting my meticulously made bed.

I grabbed ahold of her head. "Shhhh," I said. She stopped thrashing
and looked up at me. I saw nothing but total fear in her eyes. I
pinched her nose shut and thrust my cock into her mouth. It took some
repositioning of Mom's head, but I eventually found the position that
allowed me tothrust my entire cock into her mouth and down her
throat. With my massive cock cutting off her mouth and my other hand
cutting off her nose, Mom began suffocating. I knew she wouldn't bite
down on me. After a brief period of instinctive thrashing, mom's body
went limp.

That was the fateful night that landed me in the slammer. Now I had
to sleep in tiny cells withnigger faggots like my current cell mate,
who had just finished urinating and plopped back into his bottom bunk.

"If a man also lie with mankind, as he lieth witha woman, both of them
have committed an abomination: they shall surely be put to death"
(Leviticus 20:13)

Whores like my mother are abominations, too. I know there are more out there fucking with their sons! I will find them all and deliver punishment upon them!

Righteous execution is my vocation.

[to be continued . . . ]

I found this story while I was cleaning an old hard drive! I was never continued and I invite you, if you like it to continue it into a series! This is an invitation for all authors interested! I hope you will enjoy it!

Daphne knew that she was innocent, and as she walked down the busy street, glancing over her shoulder, she was sure that her hunter knew that as well. Vampires got a bad rep, but as the magical world became more accepting, and sexy vampires became a big thing in pop culture, that stigma was slowly being torn away. Daphne fit into that “Sexy vampire” classification. She was tiny, standing at only 5 '3 and weighing less than she looked. She’d cut her raven black hair neck short earlier that day to celebrate her 18th birthday, and her pale skin was almost flawless. Her big brown eyes peered through the crown searching for her hunter, but she found no sign of her.
“I won’t die tonight,” she said desperately as she clenched her Black hoodie as it clung to her body. With the hoodie, she wore a short, short skirt and black pantyhose that accentuated her slender legs all the way down to her black boots. Okay, maybe she wasn’t entirely innocent, maybe she enjoyed tempting guys, playing with their feelings, breaking their hearts, but she never killed anyone damn it! She calmed her breathing.
“Hey young lady,” a man's voice said, causing her to jump a little. She turned to a voice and found a concerned-looking older man. She once again calmed herself and flashed him a warm smile, dimples appearing at the end of her full lips. As she looked up at him, her big brown eyes practically sparkled. She was sure that her adorableness combined with the mini skirt had put the man under her spell. Vampires being able to supernatural seduce people was a myth, she was just naturally damn sexy
“Oh, thank you, sir, for being worried,” she said, stepping towards him. “I am in a bit of trouble; do you think you could help me out?” she asked.
“Uhh uhm of course,” he said, his face going bright red. “What do you need help with?”
“Well you see sir; I’ve just been visiting here. I don’t really know my way around town, and I don’t have much money. I need to get out of here really bad and really fast, it’s important, but I don’t even know where the train station is. Do you think you could tell me the fastest way to get there?” she asked.
“Well um, I don’t know young lady. I know a pretty fast way but its not safe” he said. “I could give you a ride, that will be a lot safer,” he said.
“No thank you,” she said still smiling up innocently. Any danger the normal world provided she was sure she could handle, she just needed to get away from that…that thing. The man sighed.
“Well the fastest way from here is actually though there,” he said gesturing towards an alleyway a few feet away. “Just go straight through there and the train station is on the other side,” he said. The vampire almost found herself thanking God but remembered she quite frankly hated the man. Her luck couldn’t be better it seemed. “But that alley is pretty shady young lady. Plenty of bodies have shown up there ya know” he added.
“That’s okay” she squeaked happily. “I can handle myself,” she said twisting her hips seductively as she held her hands behind her back. The man frowned again, his eyes occasionally drifting down to her slender legs which were only covered by a thin layer of fabric
“If you say so,” he said quietly. She stared up at him expectantly. He looked confused for a moment, before pulling out his wallet.
“Here take this, should get you a ticket and something to eat. Maybe some new clothes too” he said handing her some crumpled up bills. She snatched the money out of his hand, moving so fast that her hand was a blur.
“Thank you, sir,” she said before booking it towards the alley. As she ran down the alley she hastily looked down at the bills and scowled. “Two fifths?” she said to herself “That’s all the old cheapskate gave me? I bet that’s the hardest he’s been in fucking years! Could have given me a little more at least” she said. Suddenly she felt as if she was flying. Time slowed down as her feet lift off the ground. But she wasn’t flying, the pavement was becoming closer, and closer. She was failing, and moments before she hit the ground the pain hit her. Daphne crashed into the pavement and screamed in pain as she clutched the bloody wound on her belly. She managed to turn around and see the very thing she feared most standing behind her. The vampire’s eyes widened as the girl stepped closer to her. Where Daphne was sexy in the cute kinda way, this girl was sexy in the sexy kind of way. She had beautiful waist-length golden blonde hair, and a slender yet curvaceous figure ripped straight from Hollywood. She wore a white T-shirt that clung tightly to her frame, her C-cup boobs seemingly about to pop out. With it, she wore a pair of booty shorts that were just as short as Daphne’s mini skirt and showed off the blonde's long, muscular legs. Daphne felt like she had to scream but found that she couldn’t move. Instead, her lower lip quivered and a feminine whimper slip through them. The woman smiled at her, and boy it was a hell of a smile. Bright and kind, her blue eyes taking in Daphne as if she was an old friend. She could almost be a normal girl, well not normal, exceptional to be sure but not supernatural. That wonderfully sweet cheerleader that’s nice to everyone, the girl that passes every class with straight As and happily helps anyone with their studies, the head of the church choir. She could be any if not all of those things if it weren't for the golden hilted short sword she gripped in her right (rather dainty) hand which was dripping with blood.
“H-how did you find me” Daphne finally managed to squeak. She found that she could force herself to her feet even with the wound, but was sure that if the sun was up, she would have passed out seconds after the sword was dragged across her stomach.
“Oh, you think you’re, so clever don’t you,” the girl said with a voice that sounded like how sex felt. Not like how normal sex felt either, like that one, perfectly blissful sexual encounter you have that no matter how hard you may try, you can never stop. “You think that running around like a rat in a maze is an effective escape plan,” she said taking a step towards the dying vamp, and swinging her sword in the air, slinging Daphne’s blood off it. Suddenly the vampire lunged, fangs emerging, but the blonde was too fast. To fast to be human or even a vampire. Daphne screamed in pain as the blade sliced open another gash on her stomach. She fell to her knees coughing up blood, hot tears running down her face.
“Please!” she begged. “Just leave me alone, I haven’t killed anyone, you have to believe me,” she said.
“Oh, I do believe you,” the blonde said grabbing Daphne by her short hair and yanking her head up so that the two were facing each other. “But you see my job title isn’t good guy,” she said. “It’s not hero either” she added kneeling down. Her red lips twisted into a perverted grin. “I’m a monster hunter, and frankly I prefer killing innocents,” she said licking the vamp’s cheek. A cold chill ran down Daphne and she gasped with fear as the blonde’s tongue ran across her, leaving a trail of saliva. “it kinda turns me on” she said before with one graceful movement she swung her blade skyward. Daphne shrieked in fear but felt no pain. Suddenly her hoodie fell off in two pieces, exposing the vampire’s tiny, pale upper body with two bloody gashes, now only covered by a small black bra.
“Y-you wouldn’t,” Daphne said shakily as fresh tears began to fall. “No, if you’re going to kill me, kill me, but…but no, not this”. The blonde grinned, and tore the bra off, freeing the girls perky B cups with stiff pink nipples. “N-no” Daphne managed to squeak as the blonde’s small soft hands grabbed her tits. Her hands slid down the girl’s body and she winced as they passed over the cuts. She finally grabbed the mini skirt, and with her superhuman strength ripped it off Daphne’s body. The smaller girl whimpered as the only thing covering her body was her see-through brown pantyhose which did little to cover her shaved pussy.
“Mhm you are a pretty one,” the blonde said grabbing Daphne by the shoulders and pushing her to the ground, before climbing on top of her.
“No” Daphne repeated silently sobbing. The blonde leaned down and pressed her lips against the vampires, and Daphne felt her tongue slide into her mouth. Suddenly a jolt of pleasure rushed through her as the blonde’s fingers slipped into her pussy, rubbing softly. Daphne moaned into the hunter’s mouth despite herself, her body slowly dampening with sweat.
“God you’re a cute bitch,” the blonde said pulling away “I just can’t wait to see you die,” she said.
“Please,” Daphne said between moans of both pain and pleasure. “Please stop, please let me go” she begged. The blonde's evil grin widened.
“Oh, I won’t do either of those,” she said sliding of Daphne’s body and grabbing her legs, lifting them up so that her foot was in the hunter’s face. She yanked her boot off and ripped off part of her pantyhose revealing the girls smooth, perfectly shaped foot. The smell was strong, and the sole of her foot wet with sweat. Her toes were tiny and aligned perfectly with purple painted nails. Daphne’s gut with fear and realization. Feet had always made her uncomfortable, and even the thought someone touching her own feet always made her feet made her feel sick.
“H-hey” she whimpered desperately, but before she could do anything the blonde ran her tongue across the sole of her foot. Daphne’s foot was salty, so salty it was almost overpowering, but to those who had acquired a taste for feet, they were bliss. The blonde moaned as she worshipped her sobbing preys’ feet and lifted the other leg up by the ankle and stripped her other foot down. She turned the vampire around so that her legs were facing the blonde, and lowered Daphne’s spit and sweat covered foot to her own crotch. The hunter began to lick the other foot as she rubbed herself with Daphne’s already violated foot. She moaned and whimpered throughout the experience before finally, with a rush of ecstasy, she squirted into herself. She squeaked as her panties were soaked with her fem cum, before dropping the vampire’s feet. The hunter stood with a satisfied sigh. She stepped on Daphne’s stomach, smiling down at her.
“I know it hurts, but if I left you like this you’d probably survive,” she said. “it's time I finish this,” she said.
“D-don’t” was all Daphne managed to say. The blonde kneeled down and grabbed her blade.
“There are three effective ways to kill a vampire,” she said. “The first is fire, but that leaves behind an ugly corpse,” she said. “The second is decapitation, but that’s too fast,” she added. “The final method,” she said, holding her blade over Daphne’s lovely chest. “is piercing the heart,” she said.
“God why?” Daphne sobbed. The blonde thrust the sword downward, and Daphne gasped in agony as the cold blade pierced her heart. Blood rushed up from the wound and her body started spasming. The blonde grinned, lifting her foot up, and slipping her shoe off, and pressed her socked foot against Daphne’s face. The smell overpowered, and the vampire felt a sense of shame, dying with someone’s foot on her face. Soon that shame magnified as she lost control of her bladder, soaking her penthouse with piss. Her own feet spasmed, curling and uncurling as if searching for something to grip, and her tongue followed suit, soaking the blondes soak with spit during while it spasmed. The warm feeling around her legs continued to spread as her consciousness slowly started to fade, swallowed by pain. She would not fall fully unconscious, no her vampire blood would not allow that, but she did start feeling hazy as she died. This did nothing to numb her pain, fear or shame. Finally, with a violent spasm, another rush of pee, and a squirt of cum, Daphne died. The blonde gave a satisfied smirk as she removed her wet foot and yanked Daphne’s corpses piss soaked pantyhose off, keeping them and her bra as a trophy. She took a few pictures for professional and less professional purposes before leaving the body and calling someone to come clean it up. And there in the street, Daphne lay dead

Lara was ready for one last jog before the big day. In a few days she would be taking place in a citywide relay for charity, and she was team captain, the one chosen to lead the charge and rally everyone to do their best for the event. Being raised fit her whole life, this is what she lived for, being able to participate in this relay for such a good cause made it all the better.

"Alright girls, we're gonna be going for an hour now, remember to pace yourself! For those of you who don't have the stamina, don't push it! We'll be there for you, just take it easy, as long as you stay in it, you win!"

Lara was leading her group for a practice run so they could guarantee to have a safe and fun time. As she starts the run, so far so good, everyone is all laughs and joy, excitement for the big day rising…however, many, MANY miles away, there was something taking place…something that Lara, or anyone for that matter, could ever account for.

***

"Prepare to test fire the device on my mark. Three…"

In a remote section of land, surrounded by countless miles of high-security fencing, a top-secret government agency was testing the capabilities of a newly-developed, highly advanced weapon, capable of precise strikes of targets over long distances.

"Two…"

The device stays aimed at a human-sized dummy target several miles away from itself.

"One…"

Suddenly, by random chance, a particularly dumb squirrel who happened to be inspecting the device for food somehow triggered a slight shift upwards in the device's shift.

"Fire."

A slight shift over a few miles however equated to a particularly LARGE arc…

The device fired - completely missing its intended target…

***

At the 40 minute mark, all the girls are quite worn out and very sweaty, some walking, others still pushing, Lara is one of them, running a tight lead over her team, face red and dripping sweat, but all smiles all the same.

"Alright girls hang in there! We're nearing the home stretch! Jane, how you holding up, need me to-"

At that moment, there was bizarre silence that took over the team, as they felt something was off, but couldn't pinpoint it for a second, until suddenly they blinked and noticed something, Lara was not only suddenly cutoff…she was transparent blue, almost unnaturally so. The girls had no way of knowing, but Lara was the one in a billion victim of a misfire from the newest government black project, the Absolute Zero Cannon.

"Oh my god Lara! What the fu-"

One of Lara's best friends, an Asian beauty by the name of Yoon, was the first to react in horror, being closest to Lara. Unfortunately, while the cannon had precision striking capability, there was still a danger zone in place when the cannon struck its target, Yoon happened to be in it. While not as instantly, or as transparently frozen, Yoon was frosted over in a couple seconds in abject terror, in contrast to Lara's beautiful ice statue, still all smiles, not having time to react.

This turned from confusing and scary to an absolute mess as Lara, frozen midstride, fell over and shattered into countless, beautiful blue fragments, frozen so absolute her pieces hurt to be around or even attempt to touch. Yoon meanwhile, was experiencing the secondary effect of those frozen in the danger zone, as she started to melt down, her beautiful facial features melting and warping into eachother, her mouth now an elongated scream, falling into her own chest as she lost more and more height, becoming a blob of nothing.

***

"Repeat, device has misfired!"

"Localize where it has struck, now!!"

The techs scrambled to precisely calculate the coordinates of the device's misfire. In a manner of moments, they found it.

Luckily a patrol drone was already nearby, and using its ultra-high zoom technology focused in on Ground Zero.

"Good god…. Get a containment crew out there immediately. We have civilians down."

On their monitor was a group of young girls, all in jogging outfits, screaming and puking in terror. In front of them was a blue blob in vaguely the shape of a human female, and a bunch of shattered ice fragments as if tossed across the ground.

***

The containment crew got out there in shocking quick time, cordoning off the area for all bystanders looking nearby, having multiple men in hazmat suits containing the two former beautiful women fast as they could, the Lara fragments collected in a specialized container, and scooping Yoon into a tube, both for further research no doubt.

"Ok ladies, now I know this must be very traumatizing for you, but we'll need you to please, as best and calmly you can, follow Mr. Ramirez here, he'll bring you to a station for further assistance in and consoling."

The women, all still in shock and some still recovering from vomiting seeing what happened to their former friends, almost blindly walked into the unmarked government transport, just hoping for this nightmare to end.

"Yes sir, they're all in. You positive? Alright then, I suppose it is the only way…Ramirez, start it up."

Ramirez, at the head of the transport, clicked a button in the vehicle, and in an instant, any sobbing and crying that could be heard from the back of the sizeable van was silenced. Ramirez slid a viewing port open to see the effects from a safely tempered glass. All the remaining jogging beauties were flash frozen by a small scale, area of effect version of the Absolute Zero Cannon.

"Hey Ramirez here, yeah we got our snowbunnies here, what's next boss? Oh the old shave ice treatment? Damn harsh, but you got it boss."

And so the van drove off, ready to dispose of the remaining witnesses in their ice chipper, and prepping for the next testing of the Absolute Zero Cannon.

Shooting and not much else. Made with random.org; The way clouds shift decided one character was very unlucky ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Roulette


“Alright girls, this right here is a .44 Colt Anaconda loaded with magnums. It has 6 shots so if one of you is lucky, she’ll get to eat a bullet right through the mouth. Tits, pussy and then mouth – very simple. I do the shooting you do the cylinder spin. I switch between you when there’s no shot. Since the first shot is a guaranteed hit, I’ll let you play rock, paper, scissors to decide who goes first.” I explain to the two naked house girls as we sit legs crossed in front of the cozy fireplace.

One is Hanako – a small Asian girl with cute small tits that will get absolutely blown off by the magnums. She also has a tight body and fucks like a maniac, but lacks any discipline so keeping her is not an option. The other girl, to my left, is a busty blonde named Alice. She’s so mentally stunted that I can only use her for sex and cleaning duty, but that’s not so bad because her body is smoking hot. She exercises daily and still keeps her curves. If she was actually cute I could keep her for more than one week, but nature didn’t bless her with a very attractive face.

“3… 2… 1… HA! I win! That’s two out of three!” Ha, I win yelled Hanako with joy.

“Very well. Alice, you’re up. Which tit do you want to sacrifice first?” I ask the blonde to make her unimportant choice.

“Ugh… Why me? I only lost because I didn’t pause to cheat. This is unfair!” she protested, hands crossed atop her bountiful breasts.

“If you want to lose them both in one shot, that can be arranged – but then your pussy would be next.” I tell her gleefully.

“Urgh… Fine… Take my left tit and blow it up. Not like I need it or anything…” she says resigned.

Removing her hands, I forcefully grab her left tit and squeeze it hard, prompting her to yelp in pain.

“Argh, you’re supposed to blow it, not tear it off. My tit is sensitive, don’t squeeze it so hard.” She moaned.

Ignoring Alice’s dumb protests, I pull her in front of the fireplace by the tit then tug on her erect nipple so that her tit is stretched enough for me to only hit her left melon. Placing the snub barrel deep into her soft tissue at the base, at an oblique angle – I slowly press the trigger while looking in her scornful grey eyes.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaarghhh! Ayeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” her unadulterated screams pour out as the .44 magnum blows a big hole right though her precious squishy tit.

I’m a bit disappointed that Alice’s newly acquired hole is so large and messy. Maybe if I had used a .357 I could get a hole that I could fuck… Ah well, at least her screams turn me on and her tit looks totally deflated.

“Alright Alice, we get it. Stop screaming and spin the cylinder.” I tell the dumb blonde house girl.

Five more seconds pass and she’s still crying and screaming, the annoying little twat. I could blow one right through her skull and fuck her writhing corpse… Fine, I’ll give her reason to scream. I quickly jab two fingers into the gaping hole in her left breast. A quick yank and I tear off her precious charred fat bag. Beautiful yellowish-orange fat glistens atop her chest, blood sprinkling on it in many crimson rivulets.

“You liked screaming so much – I thought I’d give you some help, Alice.” I tell the blonde and throw her ravaged tit in her face, then spin the cylinder myself.

“No, let me spin it. I’ll… I’ll get lucky.” Alice managed to speak up just as she felt the cold metal under her right breast.

“Too late.” I said, pulling the trigger.

A split second later another magnum shell fires its way through the blonde’s remaining milk maker and stops in the brick wall in front of us. Bits of Alice’s tit are now a part of the grotesque mosaic left across the Ashford wall. So many girls have been sacrificed against that wall – with tools and patience you could probably find all manner of tissue there: brain, heart, bone, tit fat, ovaries… It’s why I have to instruct one of my girls to sprinkle that wall daily with chloroform and deodorant. I can remember as it were yesterday when I shot my first girl against this wall. I had just received a Benelli hunting shotgun and to shoot one of my busty ebony bunnies with it. Her tits were completely splattered by the 20 gauge rat shot and her womb fared no better, the small metal balls completely destroying her sex within two shots. Her head popped open pretty theatrically…

“Aaaaaaargh!!!” Alice’s slightly delayed scream pulls me back from my reverie.

This time I yank her tit right off, without giving her any respite from screaming her lungs out. I bite off her erect puffy nipple and begin chewing. I’d say it’s an acquired taste, because the texture is always chewy and annoying – but I enjoy it nonetheless.

“Come on, Alice. Maybe you’ll actually get lucky this time! Spin to win!” I tell her, throwing her butchered female appendage into the fireplace.

She manages to restrain herself from clutching at her flayed chest and gives the cylinder a good spin.

“You know where the next one goes, don’t you?” I ask her, rock hard with anticipation.

I thoroughly enjoy her internal conflict as she stares at me both pleading and with vitriol. She knows that she has a 4/6 chance of getting her pussy shredded by metal, but she slowly spreads her legs anyway. She knows that not playing along might get her a far worse fate.

“Come on, fuck me with the gun. Fuck me and see if the gun spares me or not…you…” she says bitterly, spreading her lips for the barrel.

I oblige and stick it into her surprisingly wet pussy. The harsh, cold metal slides in and out of Alice’s sex with unknown intent.

“You know what? Hanako, why don’t you be the one to pull the trigger. Aim towards her back – we wouldn’t want her lungs or heart getting damaged so in such an inopportune way. Wouldn’t we?” I tell the petite Asian, handing her the gun.

Her eyes spark with sadistic joy as she grabs the deadly instrument and begins rubbing Alice’s inside with the thick short barrel. The blonde seems to get no satisfaction from the motion so she glances at Hanako to hurry. The trigger is pulled. Alice collapses on the side, her ragged screams echoing across the whole mansion. Streams of blood pour heavily out of her cunt, staining yet another cheap carpet. In contrast with the carpet and even the shell just fired – Alice was cost free, part of my executive care package from work. I could do anything with her and this game was just how her luck turned out to be. She should be grateful I didn’t skin her or used her for swordsmanship practice. Hanako might do that instead. Ah… only time will tell.

“Good. Hanako, why don’t you spin the cylinder again? If Alice gets so unlucky she gets the next one in the head – you’ll get away scot free.” I tell the unharmed house girl staring horrified at her felled colleague.

After a few seconds she registers and stops looking at the bleeding out blonde on the carpet and spins. Getting the barrel inside Alice’s mouth was easy – because the dying girl was still screaming with indescribable agony, clutching her destroyed pussy to stop the bleeding. Her screams were drowned out by a terrifying boom and then ground down to a halt.
“Damn. That’s one powerful gun!” I exclaim in awe at the shear size of the hole at the back of Alice’s skull.

Her head was blown wide open and chunks of brain and bone were now projected into the Ashford brick wall. Alice was now the mosaic centerpiece. Bits of skin and strands of her golden dyed hair contrasted the wall very subtly. Hanako is shaking slightly. She knows this could have been her.

As she stands there petrified, looking at Alice’s blown apart head, I coil around little Hanako from behind. I grasp her neck with my left hand and her small squishy breasts with the other, while kissing her softly. I rub her brown erect nipples slowly with my thumb and carefully caress the back of her neck – sending shivers down her spine. As I kiss her nape, I take the gun from her shaky, unsure hands. She starts sweating as she feels the barrel pressed against her temple – her head unmovable in my grip across her neck.

“P-p-please… you… please… don’t…” she slowly whimpers hearing the hammer get cocked.

“It’s a dangerous game for both of us. I could go deaf you know?” I say to the terrified house girl.

“I don’t… want to… I don’t want to…” she says, so frozen with fear that she doesn’t even masturbate.

“Die?” I say and pull the trigger.

The hammer strikes and a loud distinctive click cuts through the tension. Hanako was spared a quick death. How unfortunate for her. She gives out a long sigh of relief as I point the gun back to Alice’s corpse. I quick fire the last remaining shots into her belly, prompting even more blood to gush out of the blonde’s carcass. Hanako flinches with fear both times.

“You know Hanako… you’re very unlucky.” I break the deafening silence after putting the Anaconda revolver away.

She doesn’t seem to understand why she’s unlucky. She swings her head back against my chest and looks up. A few tears of relief slide down across her cheeks as her big brown eyes lock unto mine. She’s sort of cute. I place my hands under her tiny buttocks and raise her tiny body above, allowing her to mount my stiffened cock. She rocks up and down against me with feverish lust. I almost choke the life out of little Hanako when I come, but I let go when I’m done filling her pussy.

Since there seem to be ongoing glitches, I will continue my story here :-) Enjoy!

Pt 5

By the time Jessica and April returned from their meeting with the organisers, the hall was filling up quite nicely. It was still half an hour or so before the public were to be let in but all the other contestants were there, setting up their demonstrations. Since plagiarism or other types of copying would be pretty much impossible by that point, and all devices and procedures were described on the entry forms, there was no restriction on contestants who were already set up wandering around and taking a look at what others had come up with. Since Penny was well on her way to being done and there was very little for them to do other than wait, the two girls decided to go explore. After setting their video running on the provided screen, showing Penny’s introduction and the early stages of the prep, they set off.

The first thing that struck them both was the number of naked girls and young women either wandering around, helping to set up the devices in or on which they would likely very soon be cooked or simply sitting in the booths, flicking though magazines or on their phones while they waited for their teams to get set up. Nobody other than Penny actually seemed to be cooking yet so it seemed fair to assume most other cooking methods on display that day involved a shorter process. The youngest they saw seemed to be a pair of girls, sisters from the looks of them, around nine or ten years old who were chasing each other around the booth playing tag to the obvious irritation of the team that were trying to set up in there. There were a few young women, mostly from the mixed teams, who looked to be around nineteen or twenty but most seemed to be in their mid-teens, as was fairly typical for meat girls. Chatting with each other as they explored, April and Jessica pondered how many had been purchased for the demonstrations and how many were friends or family members talked into helping out.

Although no girls were cooking yet, it was not too difficult to work out the rough mechanics of the majority of entries. There seemed to be a lot of variations on the traditional spit or stew pot but others were a little more intriguing, such as a device that seemed to consist of a pair of flexible tubes, like thick garden hoses, fed from something that they were pretty sure was a repurposed immersion heater from an old house! There was also a sort of cage which had several cables running from it as if it cooked by passing electric current through the girl.

“Wow, that’s gotta hurt!” Jessica observed, looking with a mixture of fear and fascination at what she was pretty sure was a deep-fryer. It was a large tank of straw-coloured oil which, while not boiling yet, was clearly starting to heat up. Beside it, on the floor for now but attached to a kind of hoist system and swinging arm was a metal basket large enough for a girl or small adult to sit in with her knees tucked up. A petite brunette around there own age stood close by, naked buy holding a folder in her hands and giving sharp instructions to the boys who made up the rest of the team – clearly in this mixed team she was both the leader and test-subject! At least she would know what she was letting herself in for and there could be no question about her willingness, April and Jessica thought to themselves.

“I guess we should get back to our booth.” April commented, noticing that the hall was starting to fill up and that not everyone was attached to a team so the public must have been allowed in. “I hope Penny was able to sleep like she wanted to and that it’s not hurting her too much.”

“Honestly,” Jessica replied with a slight shrug, “of all the devices I’ve seen so far, ours looks to be one of the most humane. Some of those things looks pretty grim and some of the girls are really young!”

“Yeah…” April looked a little troubled. “I hope they’re going to kill them or at least give them something to knock them out before they start cooking or there’s going to be a lot of tears!”

Back at their own booth, a small group of onlookers had gathered. Some were touching the outside of the box, commenting to each other about the warmth they could feel through the wood. Others were watching the video with interest, intrigued to see how the process worked. None of them were paying any attention to Penny herself, despite the fact that her crudely blindfolded head was sticking out the end of the box.

April approached a little gingerly. From what she could tell, Penny was in a slightly delirious state, neither quite awake nor asleep. She was muttering something about sand but she couldn’t really make it out. She was clearly not too long for this world. Wanting to make her last few minutes as comfortable as possible, April took the water bottle out of the fridge again and poured a little more water into her friend’s slightly-open mouth before leaning down and giving her a tender kiss.

Sorry it's a short intro, hopefully I'll post some more later. A bit back to my previous style so I hope you enjoy :-)

Part 1

“Do you really think this is going to work?” Jessica asked, peering doubtfully at the long wooden box. “I mean, I know it works for small joints of meat and stews and that sort of thing but do you really think…”

“It’s a bit late to be worrying about that sort of thing now!” sighed April, the most sensible of the group and the main brains behind the project. “Anyway, the smaller version worked perfectly with that fish. There’s no reason at all this shouldn’t work!”

“Guess there’s only one way to find out!” Penny chuckled. “I’m prepared to stake my reputation on it!”

“And a whole lot more!” Jessica conceded. It had been a fun project and the three young students were grateful for the amount of time and support their school had allowed them, both in the planning stages and the building, first of the smaller test models then of the finished product. But tomorrow was the big day – the demonstration and contest which, if all went as well as they hoped, would win them Roebuck Scholarships for the combined Cookery and Engineering course which had become both popular and extremely prestigious in recent years, with all of Britain’s top universities competing to offer the best course and attract the top students. University had, however, become more expensive with each passing year so the offer of a full scholarship, complete with Living Allowance, was too great to ignore.

When the three eighteen year-olds had signed up for the competition, they had not really discussed who the final test-subject would be. In fact, most of the contenders that they knew of were male teams with girlfriends or sisters being coerced or conscripted to help out. There were a few mixed teams and there were no prizes for guessing how that would play out but they were one of the few all-girl teams.

The remit for the contest was to come up with a new, energy-efficient way to cook whole girls that could also be marketed for home use and did not require a lot of technical knowledge or fancy gadgetry. The girls had approached it as a team effort, recognising that their different body-types would be suited to different cooking methods and assuming that which one of them should sacrifice herself for the others would become apparent as they worked. April, who was blonde and slim, had assumed that she may well end up boiled whereas plump brunette Jessica had pictured herself ending up in some kind of oven like a roast chicken. Over time, however, as the project developed and they leaned towards some kind of slow-cooker, it seemed to have been decided that it would be Penny, a red-head who was pleasantly curvy, somewhat athletic but with enough remaining puppy-fat to keep her on the especially attractive cusp of chubby, would be the test subject. Nobody could remember when this had been decided and, in all honestly, the girls could not recall ever having discussed it. Everyone had just started talking as if it were a given and Penny had raised no objection. During the design and building process she had happily stripped off when needed or laid on the wooden planks to assist with measurement. And now, here they were, the night before the day which would hopefully change all their lives in one way or another.

Although the slow-cooker had been built at the school, it had been transported, along with all the other similar projects, to the exhibition centre where the judging would take place. Since they would need to begin the process far earlier than most of the candidates, the girls had been granted permission to film the first part, which would take place very early the next morning, and show it on a provided video screen while the other demonstrations, each in their own sectioned-off booth, would take place. With no more prep to do, April called her parents and asked them to come collect her and her team-mates and drop them home. The next day would be a very long one and starting very early so a sound and restful night was what they all needed. Penny was not sure if she would be able to sleep or whether the feeling of anticipation she was feeling was more fear or excitement but she knew she had to try if she were to be extra-delicious for the judges the next day!

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Catfish

They said it would be thrillin’ and it was. Oh lordy it was, right up to the end and then it got peaceful and sweet and oh so dark, and I felt so loved during that part.

See, my papa is long gone and my mama spends most days drunk, and I got no brothers nor sisters, so there’s no one lookin’ out for me. People ‘round these parts call me ‘dirty girl’ or ‘grubby girl’ and other mamas won’t let their kids play with me. Instead the kids pick on me and bully me until I fight back then they leave me alone. I like to sing that old song with the words changed; “I’m just a poor girl … I got no sympathy”, because I’m a loner, I’m tough, and I like it that way.

I met Otis and Redmond down on the bank of the creek when they was hookin’ catfish. I told ‘em; “Them catfish look appetizin’.” and they invited me up to their shack to share a fish fry with ‘em. Because I hadn’t eaten that day and chances are mama wouldn’t have anything for me anyways, I went with ‘em and they fed me fried catfish and biscuits.

After we ate, they gave me a half jar of ‘shine cut with orange juice and that made me feel so fine and happy. That was when they sat on either side of me on the broke-back sofa and started strokin’ my legs under my stained sundress.

“We’d like a little payment for supper.” Otis said.

“Yeah, us playin’ together a bit is all.” said Redmond, “Might be thrillin’ for you.”

“Hell.” I told ‘em, “You don’t have to feed me to play with me. I got that done to me before.”

“Yeah?” said Otis, hoisting up my dress and feeling around for my underpants.

“Yeah. Mama’s old boys she makes me call uncle have a go at me once in awhile.” I told ‘em, then said to Otis; “You ain’t gunna find no underpants up there ‘cause I don’t have any. I like the cool air on my cootch.”

“Do you now?” Otis said and found my cootch.

“Yep.” I said, starting to get that squirmy feeling from his fingers, “And if you’d rub a bit up near the top I’d be ever so grateful.”

So he did. He massaged it nice and slow and I felt my cootch open like a flower. I quivered as he stroked his fingertips down my slit and even played with my bumhole a bit.

“My-my, you are a juicy girl.” he said and I knew why - when men play with me like that I ooze the slipperiest goo you can imagine. I shivered like a ghost walked over my grave when he slid his finger inside my cootch and I rolled toward him and wrapped my hands around his thick upper arm and held on tight.

“… oh boy … oh boy …” I grunted, “… oh boy!”

It only took a few strokes and I was off humpin’ and jerkin’ and makin’ a racket because his finger was so thick and felt so good movin’ inside me like that. In the middle of it I felt Redmond slide his finger up my bumhole and I humped and jerked and got even louder. Fuck sakes, those boys made me feel good.

When they finally got me settled down, I saw they both had their pricks out and oh lordy were they thick and long. II never saw black ones before. knew what they wanted so I got up on my knees between them and stroked them both, leanin’ down and lickin’ the mushroom tops until Otis moaned and shot off all over the place. I turned to finish Redmond, but he stopped me.

“I want to try somethin’.” he said and wrapped a hand around the back of my head and pulled my face to his lap. I opened my mouth and took his prick into my mouth, “How deep can it go?” he asked.

Pretty deep it turned out. As Redmond pushed my face down, Otis went back to fingering my cootch, and I got so excited I let Redmond push me all the way down so his prick was in my gullet and my nose mashed against his belly. He held me tight when I started squirming, I guess he thought I was tryin’ to get away, but I wasn’t - it was thrillin’. His prick in my throat was the best thing I’d ever felt with Otis finger fuckin’ my cootch hard, sendin’ me into the spins; my cootch biting down on that finger and my stomach tryin’ to push the ‘shine and catfish up out of my belly. I remember trying to scream it felt so good, and when Redmond’s prick pulsed in my throat I swallowed it all down.

When they let me up I cried out “URLP! Holy snappin’ assholes! Let’s do that some more!”

“Oh my, ain’t you a peach.” Otis said and wrapped me up in his arms and hugged me as he rocked me, and him doin’ that calmed me down. For the first time in my life I felt loved and I wanted to be with them boys all the time.

It was easy to do. No one kept track of me, mama never registered me for school and didn’t give a pinch of coon shit where I spent my days, so I spent them down at Otis and Redmond’s shack.

Some days they fed me before we played, sometimes after because some of the things we did made me sick-up like a mad thing until my belly was empty and I just gagged and gagged. I liked it though. Sickin’-up with a prick in my throat gave me the squirms like being fingered did. I learned that my squirmin’ was called cummin’, and I learned that my cootch could stretch to take a whole prick and after it stopped hurtin’ it made me cum too, real nice. They called all that fuckin’ and throatin’, and I was all for it. Sometimes I’d fuck and throat with Otis, sometimes with Redmond dependin’ which one was home, and sometimes with one after t’other.

I also found out ‘eatin’ pussy’ sent me ‘round the bend. Otis did that for me sometimes to warm me up, and boy-oh-boy I had cum after cum with him doin’ that and still wanted to fuck and throat them both. My days with Otis and Redmond were pure heaven and they always sent me home with a full belly, usually food AND their squirts. Redmond made me laugh when he brought home a big plastic goofy animal from a playground that kids rode like a carousel horse. It had a flat back and put me at the perfect height for them to fuck me while they stood up - that saved their knees from being on the floor and me on the sofa.

There was a whole three months that I had Redmond all by hisself because Otis got ninety days hung on him for beatin’ up a Deputy Sheriff. When he got out he just showed up at the shack and he looked down at me and said; “Yer gettin’ fat.”

I knew what he was talking about. Redmond and I had finished fuckin’ and throatin’ and I was layin’ on the sofa, naked as the day I was born eatin’ a candy bar Redmond gave me as his squirt oozed out of my cootch. It wasn’t the candy bar he was talkin’ about though, it was my belly. Over the last two months my belly was gettin’ fat, and I just thought it was because of how much Redmond was fuckin’ me, and of the two, Redmond fucked me the hardest. Just like the sickin’-up in the mornings, I thought that was from all his hard, deep fuckin’ too. I mean, who wouldn’t? Redmond’s prick was thick and long and lately he’d taken to givin’ me a real pounding that made me scream every day. I told Otis all that.

But Otis knelt down and laid his hand on my belly down low and pressed inward.

“See? It’s not fat, it’s me just all swollen up inside is all.” I told him.

Then he pushed in on either side of my bump and moved it around. I moaned when he did it because it was connected to my cootch.

“Oh lordy, Otis.” I moaned, “Do that some more.”

“Feels good, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Been hornier lately?”

“All the time.”

“Sickin’-up in the morning?”

“Yep. But I like it - it gives me the squirms. You know that.”

“Have you ever had your monthlies?”

“Nope. Not once.”

“Geez.”

“What’s this about, Otis?” Redmond asked.

“This little one has a bun in the oven.”

“What are you talkin’ about?” I asked him.

“One of us put a baby in you, darlin’.”

“A baby?”

“Yep.”

“I don’t want a baby.” I said, feeling cold and shaky all of a sudden, “Take it out of me.”

“Nope. Can’t. We got to think on this.” Otis said.

“Let her have it.” Redmond said, “She’s a good girl. She won’t tell who done it.”

“I don’t want to have it.” I said but it was like they couldn’t hear me.

“And when it comes out black?” Otis asked Redmond, “Who are they going to come for?”

“You and me?”

“Yeah. You and me.” Otis said, “Fuckin’ a white woman gets us lynched. Fuckin’ a little white girl gets us burned alive.”

“But I wanted you to fuck me.” I said, but they still didn’t hear me, “I’ll tell ‘em that.”

“She can’t have it, then.” said Redmond.

“We can’t scrape up enough for an abortion, even if we could find someone to do it.” said Otis.

“I don’t want a baby. I’ll kill myself first.” I said, and finally they heard that. They both turned to look at me, still laying naked on the sofa, my belly bump stickin’ up.

“How?” Otis asked.

“I dunno. Hanging’, drownin’, layin’ down on the train tracks.” I said, thinkin’ of the ways people ‘round here had done it.

“You’d do that?” Redmond asked me.

“I don’t want no baby and I don’t want you two burned for lovin’ me. I never felt loved before I met you two. I couldn’t live with losin’ you.”

Otis and Redmond looked at each other, then Otis picked me up and held me in his lap as he sat on his old creaky rocker. I snuggled in as he rocked me and I felt so warm and safe I fell asleep in his arms, belly bump and all.

When I woke up it was night - a hot damp night. I’d never stayed past sunset before and here it was deep nighttime. I was on the sofa, covered up with a blanket, sweating and groggy. Otis and Redmond sat in chairs watchin’ me.

“What’s goin’ on?” I asked them.

“Come with us” Otis said, said standin’ up and puttin’ out his hand. I took his hand and they walked me out of the shack into the night. The air felt good on my bare skin, buy my head was all foggy still from sleep.

“We’re goin’ for a walk.” Redmond said, carryin’ a lantern. Otis carried a jug.

“I’m naked.” I said, feeling fear creeping in as we walked through the woods.

“Don’t matter.” said Otis.

They walked me down to the creek and I saw that on the bank just up from the water they’d dug a deep girl-sized hole. The big pile of dirt was beside it with two shovels stickin’ in it. My belly went all cold inside.

“Sit.” Otis said as he sat on the ground with his legs in the hole. I sat beside him and Redmond on my other side. I remembered the dying talk and I was wonderin’ if they were just going to spring it on me right then - choke me then throw me in the hole. I saw myself layin’ there, eyes and mouth open as they shovelled dirt on me. Otis picked up the jug of ‘shine cut with orange juice and unscrewed the cap, taking a pull and handing it to Redmond. Redmond drank and handed it to me.

“Drink.” Otis said and I did, the warm orangey ‘shine flooding my belly with heat. It was good and made the cold in there ease off.

“This is where we found each other.” Otis said, “Remember?”

I looked around and saw it was where I met them as they hooked catfish.

“The catfish.” I said.

“Yeah, the catfish.” Redmond said.

I felt a little tickle in my belly looking down into the hole. I knew this was to be my grave. They were going to do it tonight. The tickle got stronger and my belly got cold again.

“Oh boy.” I whimpered like a kitten, squirming between them, feeling my bare bum grindin’ on the dirt. I got afraid, so afraid. I leaned forward and sicked-up the ‘shine I’d drank. Otis wrapped an arm around me and held me close.

“Don’t be a’scared. It’s for the best.” he said.

“It’s going to be a thrill.” Redmond said.

“A thrill?” I asked as Redmond tilted the jug up so I could drink more of the ‘shine.

“Shush, Redmond. She’s scared.” Otis said, side-huggin’ me, “Let’s just sit and get a little drunk. Just the three of us.”

So we did, takin’ turns at the jug, my feet danglin’ in the hole I’d spend eternity in, me feeling sicker by the minute.

“How?” I asked, then leaned forward and sicked-up a mess of ‘shine again. Damn but I was scared.

“Yer gunna like it, I promise.” Otis said, but I doubted it. How could a girl like bein’ kill’t?

“And after you’re gunna throw me in the hole and cover me up.” I said, wrigglin’ a bit because my cootch was on a small rock, I wished I could get horny again so the fear went away. And that cold in my belly.

“Yep.” Otis said.

“No more baby. No more me.” I said.

“Yeah.” Otis said and he sounded sad. It was the waitin’ that was the worst, my stomach felt like it was fulla tadpoles.

“Get it over with, then.” I blurted out. Otis nodded and told Redmond run ahead to get ready for us.

Otis handed me the jug and I took what would be my last pull on the ‘shine, so I made it a good one - packin’ in that liquid heat to warm up my belly. Then we got up and I held Otis’ arm with both my hands and walked on wobbly legs back to the shack. I was shakin’ and makin’ small whimpering sounds.

“It’s going to be alright, sweet little miss.” Otis said in his deep, soothing voice. But how could dyin’ be alright, I wondered. Then I remembered what would happen if I didn’t die; Otis and Redmond would be kill’t horribly and I’d be left heartbroke and lonely with a baby I didn’t want.

As afraid as I was, I knew it had to be done. I’d got myself in a terrible fix and there was no way out of it.

“I have to pee.” I said and tried to sound normal, but it came out like the sound of a half drowned kitten and I started to cry. Otis knelt down in front of me and held my hips.

“Now, now.” Otis said, “Just scootch your feet apart and go.” I did, and he steadied me as I peed on the dirt path. I was tremblin’ and crying like a baby, my face all scrunched up.

“There’s no words that’s gunna make it easier.” Otis said as I cried and peed and when I was done he led me inside the shack by the hand. When I saw Redmond standing naked beside the goofy animal with his big belly and hard prick stickin’ out, fear took hold of me hard then. I felt out of control - every part of me wantin’ to run, naked or not, belly bump or not.

“… no-no-no-no … please no … I don’t wanna … I don’t wanna …” I wailed as Otis dragged me, my feet slidin’ across the rough floor of the shack.

“Don’t make it hard, little miss.” Otis said, “It’s got to be done.”

Then Redmond took hold of me and pulled me up onto my back on the goofy animal. Redmond stood over my head and pinned me down and Otis took his clothes off then grabbed my legs and opened my thighs wide.

That’s when I lost my mind and started to scream …

Oh jeezuz, it’s happenin’! They’re killin’ me like they said! They put a baby inside me and they’re killin’ me for it!

Otis leans in and pushes his hard prick against my cootch that is clamped so tight it’s like it never opened before.

I plead, I beg, I scream for help that I know is so far away no one could hear me.

“Quiet down.” Otis says in his deep calm voice, “It ain’t startin’ yet, child.”

“When it starts you won’t care.” Redmond says, his strong hands pinnin’ my sweat-slick armpits down.

Otis starts pushin’, firm but easy with little movements against my cootch.

“Got to get you workin’ toward a good cum.” he says as he reaches down and lays his big hand on my belly bump and starts moving it inside me like he done before.

“… okay … okay … okay …” I say, looking up into his face, feeling them fine feelings start inside me and him pressing his prick against my cootch like a slow heartbeat helpin’ them along. Redmond eases up on me ‘cause I stop strugglin’ and twirls my nipple the way I like.

“You’re so sweet.” Otis whispers, “So pure and arousin’.”

“… oh boy … oh boy …” my gasps comin’ like little grunts as he pushes my belly bump down toward my cootch, his prick pushing in at the same time, makin’ it feel like they’s going to meet inside me.

“I love the way you grunt, baby girl.” Otis says, “So sexy.”

“… oh boy … oh … oh boy …” I’m almost there, almost givin’ in. I feel my cootch openin’ like a greasy flower. Then I feel the flare and feel it openin’ up wide for him, and his thick long prick slides inside me like it’s greased.

“Oh boy!” I groan long and lay my head back. My how good this feels. How badly I want to be fucked.

“It’s gunna happen slow, girl.” Otis says softly, “And it’s gunna start right now.”

“Ungh!” I grunt loud as Otis thrusts hard into me, fillin’ and stretchin’ me long-ways, pushing my bump deeper into my belly. I feel the ‘shine inside me sloshin’ and my little asshole gets loose.

Redmond tilts my head back and pushes his prick into my mouth. I gag and spit, and gasp a last deep breath. Oh lordy, I know what’s about to happen.

With one smooth slide, Redmond pushes into my throat and down my gullet. I still feel the fear, but I also feel the squirmy feeling goin’ wild in my belly and Otis moves deep into my cootch and it hurts so good, and when he’s all the way into me he moves my bump inside my belly, and when he pulls back it jiggles like jelly and it feels like all that sexed-up normal of being in the shack with them boys is comin’ back like a midnight freight train.

Redmond starts fuckin’ my throat, deep down my gullet and I feel my stomach curling and hitchin’ and I’m sickin’-up shine, spurts squirting out past my lips around his prick. On the other end of me, Otis is fucking my cootch harder than he’s ever fucked me before, hammerin’ deep in my belly like someone was pumpin’ me with a baseball bat, and I feel each thrust thudding up my belly like I’m bein’ punched inside. My body is getting looser and looser and I can feel a big cum on its way.

I realize they is gunna fuck me to death right here on this goofy animal, I feel myself fart and my asshole opens wide like my cootch.

This is the thrill. They’ve never double fucked me before and I feel like I’m gunna die just from the excitement. I gag and heave and squirm and thank the lord they hold me tight. Oh jeezuz, it’s happenin’! I feel myself getting woozy because I can’t breathe.

I feel my cum gettin’ closer, buildin’ up inside my belly, Otis slammin’ his prick into me, his thrustin’ jarrin’ my bump hard inside me like a cannon ball in a wet sack, and Redmond’s prick slitherin’ up and down my throat, my stomach churnin’ and heavin’. I hear ‘em both growlin’ - they’re both gunna cum inside me, and that thrills me even more - one up my cootch and the other down my gullet. In my mind I open the door to let my own cum in and when I feel them both slam deep, it happens; the biggest cum I’ve ever felt. My cootch feels like it’s turnin’ inside out, my stomach clenches in a hard ball and the last of the shine gushes up my gullet as Redmond’s cum shoots down it. I feel Otis pumpin’ his into me, and I swear I feel it gush up so deep it saturates my bump, makin’ it slip and slide inside my belly like it doesn’t belong to me anymore. If I could, I’d scream right now because it all feels …

… so …

… fuckin’ …

… good …

My cum is so powerful I feel my body risin’ up, liftin’ off this goofy animal, floatin’ like a balloon up in the air. I’m risin’ risin’, up through the roof of the shack, up through the black night sky, up where the angels are … and my boys are risin’ with me … I feel Redmond’s prick still sliding in my throat and it’s sending thrills down my gullet the same way Otis’ is sending thrills up through my cootch into my belly …

Dyin’ ain’t so bad. In the end, there’s nothin’ to be afraid of.

And it all stretches out and gets silent in a peaceful feeling - a dark quiet peace. I’m movin’ through the night air, floatin’, weightless and calm. Everything is slow and a comfort. I know I am being carried by Otis, held up with my chest against his, my cheek on his shoulder, his strong hands cradlin’ my bum, my legs floppin’ loose around his naked belly. I hear water, the small wind moving through the trees.

Otis lowers me, laying me gently down, resting me on the cool soil and climbing up, leaving me here. It’s so quiet in the hole, but I hear his voice come to me softly;

“Goodbye, sweet girl.” he says, and I hear the sadness in his voice.

The dirt begins to drop on me as gentle as a mist, cooling my skin, muffling me like a quilt. It’s nice down here, I feel at peace and so loved, and I’ll know they’ll visit me always and remember the catfish.

Everyone I know – my friends, coworkers, relatives, wife, and kids, and pretty much the entire town – has heard the story of how my sisters were brutally gunned down when I was fifteen. It was Winter of 2021, and a cult of anarchists had formed and gained influence in the United States. The Obliterators, as they called themselves, created a new form of terrorism which involved invading homes at random and killing everyone they could find. My house was one of the first to be targeted by this new tactic. Based on my personal testimony, investigators, as well as the media, believed the terrorists left under the assumption that I was already dead, after I tumbled and knocked myself unconscious. That story is ludicrous, and the fact that they believe the Obliterators left without making sure I was dead is amusing; responsive or not, they would have shot me anyways to be sure. However; this misinformation was beneficial to me, and I always agreed with the official story when I was asked. The truth of the matter is, I was conscious through the whole ordeal; I survived because they never found me, and I never let them know I was in the house. That is not the main reason I kept this a secret.

We moved into that house just a few months earlier, so my dad could be closer to his new job. Although it was a big house, the bedrooms were spacious, and there was just three of them. My parents got one, my sisters, Courtney and Rebecca, each got their own room, so I ended up with the attic as my room. Not that I had an issue with it; it was bigger than the bedrooms, I could always tell when my parents were coming in, and it was secluded. It got even better; just two days before the shooting, I discovered a small hole in the floor, and it was directly over the bathroom. And it was directly above the toilet.

Now, I don't really know how common it is for a sibling to have a crush on on another; I would be willing to bet a lot more than most people would guess, but I could be wrong. I do know that I was one of them.

Courtney, who was only two years older than me, was the first girl I ever had a crush on. Frizzy dark hair, which she kept down to her waist, and a slender frame. I first noticed how pretty she was about the time she turned eleven, when her buds began to sprout. They blossomed as she turned into a teenager, and her low cut tops left very little of her watermelon-sized meat sacks to the imagination.

Rebecca, being two years younger, only gained my attention a few weeks before her thirteenth birthday. She had the same slender frame as Courtney, chestnut brown hair to her shoulders, that she normally kept in a ponytail, and a smooth, milky, complexion. Her breasts came in later, but, when they sprouted, they blossomed quickly. I truly noticed when she reached across me to grab the remote from the back of then couch, and I got a face full of cleavage. As she never wore a bra, I got my first real peak of nipples.

Other than the incident with Rebecca, I never actually saw either of them nude. Over the years I caught myself glancing out of the corner of my eye when they walked by in tight shorts or pants, or whenever one of them bent over. I jerked myself off thinking about them in the tub or in a changing room, but for one reason or the other I did not attempt to get a glimpse of them in the buff until I found the hole in my floor.

The second day after my discovery I was peeping down the hole as Courtney took a shower. While the view inside the curtain was blocked by the curtain, I was waiting for her to come out. Then the door opened.

"Who is it?" Courtney peaked around the curtain as Rebecca stepped through the threshold.

"Just me. I gotta go number two," my little sister replied.

Courtney nodded and went back to her shower. "Please use the air freshener before you leave."

"Okay. I'll remember this time." She pulled down her pants in underwear, unknowingly giving me a brief glimpse of her tight ass, and sat on the toilet.

I listened for the plopping of her shit hitting the water, when the sound of heavy footfalls rapidly coming down the hall caught my attention. Rebecca looked at the door as it slammed open, and a tall masked man clad in black camouflage stepped brandishing a Colt AR-15. Rebecca raised her posture and her chest expanded as a scream approached her lips, but the man fired before she could even squeak.

Her body thrashed and danced with each impact; several dozen bullets ripped through her chest, and shredded her heart and lungs in a flurry of blood. Her body slumped back with her tongue lolling uselessly from her mouth, and a blood oozed from her lips. The plop I expected moments ago came, accompanied by a tinkling, as her body emptied her bodily wastes into the toilet.

I could hear Courtney whimpering loudly, and the gunman could too. He reloaded his weapon and pulled the curtain open.

"No! Please no! No! No! No..." He shoved the barrel of the gun directly into her mouth and pulled the trigger. Her muffled scream abruptly stopped as more than a dozen bullets blasted a hole in the back of her head and spattered pieces of brain on the tile. He body went limp and she slid down into the tub, with a trickle of piss running down her legs.

I laid there looking down at the ruined, naked, bodies of my sisters, with my mouth agape and eyes widened, for almost fifteen minutes. Until they left, after searching all of the bedrooms and closets; I was lucky they neglected to look in the attic.

After I was sure they were not going to come back I climbed out into the hall. My first thought told me I should call the police and then my parents, who were in Berlin for their anniversary. Something – my hormones and curiosity, no doubt – took over. I walked towards the bathroom. The killer left it open, so I just walked right on in.

My first sight was Rebecca sitting there on the toilet, legs spread and rivers of blood poured from her chest; some went in the toilet while others fed into a crimson puddle on the floor. I had a perfect view her smooth pussy. My dick pushed against the fabric, and I felt a little disgusted with myself that I was getting hard over my little sister's dead cunt. Yet, I was unable to control myself, and before I knew it I was crouched in front of the toilet and my left index finger prodded her labia. It was still warm, and quite moist.

I softly rubbed her pussy for several minutes, then inserted my fingers into her slit, and into her tight little hole. I pulled it out moments later dripping with her juices. Then my attention shifted to Courtney.

She laid against the wall of the tub; fat drops of blood dripped from her mouth and splashed on between her legs, to be carried into the drain by the water still pouring from the shower head. I sat down crisscross in front of the tub and reached out to stroke the side of her face. I grabbed one of her breasts; caressed and squeezed it, then licked her puffy areole and suckled on her nipple. Then I dropped it, and watched it droop uselessly. I lifted up her face, stared into her vacant green eyes, and, after wiping the blood from her mouth with a wet rag, softly kissed her lips.

I pulled away after about a minute and let her head slump. I told myself it was time to go make some phonecalls, but I had to do something about the massive erection, and masturbating would not have sufficed.

As I stood up, I grabbed Courtney's upper arms and pulled her limp body up with me; chunks of brain fell out of the back of her head and plopped down into the tub as I lifted her. I pulled her body out and dropped it onto the floor, with her legs spread wide. I unbuttoned my pants and pushed it, along with my boxers, to my ankles. Then I crouched in front of her, held wrapped my arms around her thighs, and shoved my member into her pussy. It tight and wet, and it only took a minute of thrusting to climax. I grunted as I sprayed my sticky white too into her womb.

I collapsed on top of her, with my head nestled between her breasts, as I took in air. I was filled with both self-loathing and disgust, but also euphoria and a feeling of accomplishment; I just lost my virginity, and to the first girl I had a crush on, but at the same time she was my sister and she was dead. And I was not satisfied.

After I regained my strength, I got up and lifted Courtney's body back into the tub. I went back to the toilet and grabbed Rebecca. I laid her out and front of the tub, legs open. I lifted what remained of her t-shirt over her shoulders and fondled her breasts; there was very little left, and her nipples were certainly gone, but they were still soft, firm, and squeezable.

I mounted her and thrust my cock forward and entered her girlhood. Blood trickled from her pussy, and I realized that I was her first, and only, sex partner. The fact that she was a virgin made my member stiffen even more, and I pushed all the way to her cervix; there was no need to worry about hurting her, and I rather enjoyed squeezing into her tight hole, so I thrust hard and fast. This time I was able to control myself and hold back when I felt it coming too soon. I fucked my young sister for almost half an hour before I allowed myself to orgasm. I shot my seed into her, but kept going for another half-hour, Cumming two more times before I finally pulled out.

After I placed Rebecca's body back on the toilet seat I stood over her, watching cum drip from her cooling vagina. I finally left after another hour, to call the police and then my parents. I told them I fell out of the attic and woke up hours later, to explain why I took so long after the murders to contact someone. The killer was caught down the street, so, to my luck, an autopsy was deemed unnecessary. The true events were kept a secret, and this journal will be buried with me when I die.

Tags: mf/fs non-con crushing mashing ripping shredding destruction rape scat lolli teen (probably more to follow)

Hello sickos. I'd never done creative writing before, so thought I'd give it a try. 4 days later I've roughed out nearly 20000 words, and am pleased enough with it to upload it here.

Feedback is welcome. I'd like to know if I'm deluded, so I don't have to waste any more time on this.

If you spot any glaring errors, keep them to yourself, and hopefully no-one else will notice ;)

The general theme is a modern underground dungeon. Girls and young ladies get brutally raped, and then meet annihilation in various machines. Lots of gore and minimal plot. The format is pretty open ended, so I'll probably keep adding chapters as I go along.

First time posting but quite old lurker, I make a lot of these and will post more here if you like. I just started a personal kinky blog if you're interested too.

–

When I left the club, I had barely drunk my first glass of vodka. Being the only single in the group sucks, and even more so when I have to fend off douchebags trying to grope me while my two friends are busy making out with their guys.

My own dress is also betraying me; while perfectly suited to the stuffy air and the dancing, in all its glistening golden glory, it now seems way too inadequate against the spring night breeze. As I’m walking the street, my heels loudly warn everyone in a two-block radius of my coming. I guess I must be walking as angrily as I am looking right now.

Suddenly, the click-clack stops, as I see in the corner of my eye a neon sign signaling “OPEN”. It’s not a bar, or a club, just a regular diner-late night coffee heaven kind of place. What I wouldn’t give right now for a cup of coffee. Sure, the place looks empty – I’m not sure I can see an employee inside actually – but hell, I can even brew it myself. And it will give me some respite from my broody, cold walk home.

Crossing the side street, I push the glass door open. Almost all of the lights are off, and the beer fridge next to the counter gives out a blue light that provides most of the illumination to the room devoid of people. “Hello!”, I shout, scanning the place with my gaze. A slow, almost distant jazz mix tape is playing from behind the bar.

A guy comes out from the kitchen door. He looks just as surprised to see a customer at this hour as he is to see a brunette in a short, shiny golden dress and black heels walking in here alone for a cup of coffee. I can imagine it looks quite comical, in a weird-movie-from-the-50s way. I keep my eyes on him as I come closer to the bar. “Can I actually get a cup of coffee, please?”, I ask, smiling wide with my red, pleading lips. The guy, a tanned man in his forties in a black T-shirt, looks baffled, but nods affirmatively.

I can feel him glancing at me, while he’s brewing my coffee, as he brings the cup in front of me on the counter, and while I’m drinking and he’s pretending to be drying some glasses. He hasn’t spoken a word, but I can identify with him; it’s like, 3 AM, he was probably sleeping before I disturbed him.

With my cup half-finished, I can feel the need for a break. “Can I use the restroom?”, I ask him, already standing up so that he can’t refuse and make me find a bush. Once again, he nods. I leave my phone and my clutch next to my cup and head to the back. The restroom is probably the shiniest space in the whole shop, and the bright white light hurts my eyes until I’m sheltered inside the booth.

I get my panties around my ankles and sit down, but don’t even manage to take in a breath before the door violently swings open, crashing onto the wall next to me with a heavy thud. I curl up instinctively and gasp, closing my eyes. The man that just shattered the lock with one blow reaches and grabs me by my hair. I’m in such shock that I start shrieking and try slapping his hand off. His hold is strong, and he shoves my head to the side, banging it once against the wooden booth wall. With my shrieking momentarily paused, he pulls me off the toilet seat and onto the floor. I fall down awkwardly, swinging around and kicking randomly with my heels.

“Quit screaming you cunt, or I’ll throw you in the fucking garbage”, he growls. The first time I hear his deep, raspy, threatening voice. Something in the tone sends a chill down my spine, even through my panic. But of course, I can’t stop screaming, I can’t. He seems to disregard it, though, as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pair of handcuffs. Sadly, my panicking brain doesn’t register the object until I’ve tried again to slap him. He lets go of my hair and grabs my hand instead and, with an expert move, the cuff is around my right wrist. Fuck. My screaming dies down as the realization of my predicament is clearer, and is now replaced by rapid, terrified breathing.

He pulls me again, this time back to the toilet. He pulls the handcuff chain behind a pipe and locks my other hand there too, securing me in place with my face next to the bowl. However much I try, and I do try, I cannot break the chain or the pipe, hurting my wrists instead. I pause my struggling as he’s gazing down at me, his figure shielding me from the bright lights.

“Please let me go, I didn’t do anything”, I say in between my gasps. “I swear I won’t speak, I swear I’ll forget this, I—I won’t go to the police, please let me go”. I plead and plead, as my gasps turn into cries and dry heaving. My voice finally stops, the fear drowning it out, as I just lie there on the restroom floor. Even as he bends down and jerks my dress off of my body, I say nothing, and refuse to open my eyes. Maybe if I stand here and let him take what he wants, he’ll let me go. There is no reason not to. But I don’t want to see him, not while he’s looking at me, observing me. I think of his eyes fixed on my tits, or my hairless genitals, and I just want to throw up.

Then, suddenly, a stream of hot liquid hits my face, catching me completely by surprise. I throw open my mouth and eyes, and the piss gets inside both, choking and blinding me for some seconds. As I cough, he keeps pissing on my face, on my hair, then moving down as I feel the disgusting stream hit my exposed breasts, then my stomach, then… As he’s aiming for my pussy, I start yelling again, along with thrashing around violently. Please god, make him stop this, the humiliation…

When he’s done, the final drops find their way on my toes. Out of breath and exhausted, my arms and shoulders hurting from the struggle, I swallow hard, forgetting for a moment the vile taste in my throat. I squeeze my eyes momentarily, then open them again to take in the scene. The smell of urine overwhelms me, as my whole body is drenched and feels as cold as the white tiles under me. In the silence, every small move I make disturbs the puddle formed around me with a tiny splashing noise. I keep my eyes straight ahead, through my hardening nipples, my extended legs and my crimson toenails, through his unmoving legs and across the floor, on which my dress and my g-string lie, like a final nail on the coffin of my dignity.

My eyes move up on their own, to meet his own, but not before breaking into tears, tears that run down my cheeks along with the piss and, I guess, what remains of my makeup.

He doesn’t say a word; just stares at me with a smugness that causes me to grimace. I keep crying as he unlocks the handcuff and drags me out of the booth into the main part of the restroom. I have no strength to resist. These tiles look like the operating room, is the only thought I can muster. Maybe keeping my mind into a normal day will make this disappear. Maybe it’s just a nightmare.

“Stand up”, he barks. I keep crying. A kick lands on my side, making me slide on my wet back. I keep crying. “Stand up”, he repeats, pulling me up by both hands. I try to comply, remembering the garbage bin. He shoves me towards the sinks, and I keep my head down. I can’t stand looking at the mirror, not like this. He locks my wrists in the handcuffs again, this time securing it through a hole in the tap handle. My legs feel unsteady enough on their own, and the heels on the wet tiles are not helping.

I keep crying. And thinking about the tiles, and the OR, and me in my scrubs instead of me naked in a toilet, and how I will just take a shower and it will all be over, it’s just a bit of piss after all, and…

My eyes grow wide, as the pain shoots from my anus to my whole body, tensing up every muscle fiber available. I grab the sink as tightly as possible, and even though I’m facing the mirror, I cannot comprehend the image in front of me. The only thing I can think is, my ass is on fire.

The blood-curling shriek that left my lungs left me breathless, not only because of the volume, but also because he immediately smashed my head against the mirror. Pressing my cheek on the glass, he is grabbing my hips and entering me a little bit more, and a little bit more. Then I feel him pulling out, only to go just a centimeter further the next time. Every tiny thrust can be felt, as my tight hole is violated and forced open.

I try focusing elsewhere again, but this time, it doesn’t work. All I can think about is my ass. How I had tried experimenting with it in my teens, first with a pen and then with my finger. How my first times trying anal with my first boyfriend, after his begging, ended in me hurting too much and refusing. How I had tried fingering myself for two weeks before allowing my next one to finally take my anal virginity, and how much he had tried making it comfortable and romantic for me, leading to one of my best orgasms.

And how this was just the second time in my life getting fucked in my asshole – raped in my asshole. Like a cheap whore, or worse, like a piece of meat, with the same value as a condom. This special “place” of mine, torn apart by this thick cock…

The pain is just too much, and the degradation even worse. I want to throw up again, but all I can do is cry. He is picking up the pace, making disgusting sounds as he forces himself deeper in me every time. Suddenly, he moves my head so that my face is against the mirror instead of my cheek.

My face is just like I had imagined: mascara running down the cheeks, lipstick smeared around, bloodshot eyes with a glimpse of green in them. Like a cheap whore indeed, a streetwalker outside a motel. Behind me, I see the black t-shirt moving back and forth.

“Make out with the mirror, cunt”

“What?”, I ask in between my tears, honestly unable to understand.

“I said, make out with the mirror, cunt! Make out with yourself like the slut you are!”, he yells, slapping my ass to make his point.

I start kissing my own lips at the mirror. This has to be a nightmare, it’s too crazy. As the lipstick, tears, piss and saliva mix on the smeared shiny surface, any memory of scrubs is deleted from my mind. A cheap whore. He is obviously loving the show, as he is going ever faster, now taking his hand from my hair to grab my hips better. I keep going, more afraid of his reaction than disgusted. The sound of fucking is interspersed with the slobbering of Lia making out with Lia.

He picks up the pace again. Then, I feel him going deeper rather than faster, stretching my asshole with the base of his cock, as I feel his balls slamming against my bald pussy. He must be coming close. Please god, yes.

Then, in an instant, he pulls out entirely, causing my torn asshole to let out an embarrassing farting sound. But he’s not out for long, as he slams back into me, though this time not in my ass. I find myself almost thanking him for the inhuman pain in my sphincter, as it makes the entering and stretching of my young pussy almost bearable in comparison, although once again I tense up and shriek in agony. Then, the full wave of pain hits me, and I almost pass out.

As I recover, I realise that he hasn’t thrust in or out of my pussy. He’s still inside, and pulsating. Oh god. He’s cumming in my pussy.

“NO NO PLEASE NO!”, I yell and beg. “I’m not on the pill, PLEASE PULL OUT!”

Another slap against my head. I’m so dizzy, and spent, and hurting. And broken.

When he pulls out finally, he lets go of my body, and I collapse, hitting my head on the sink as I drop down, still half-hanging from the handcuffs with my ass centimeters above the floor. My head swings around, and my vision is blurry. I can manage to see a bloody spot on the floor, obviously below where my ass was a minute ago. It’s good that the damn tiles are white, so I can’t see the cum dripping.

I try to adjust my legs, meekly moving them around, in order to find some support for my aching arms. He comes in front of me and steps in between them, stepping on the pooled ass blood, and then all of a sudden, a kick lands right on my violated pussy. I gasp with a wet sound and cough from the ever-increasing pain between my legs. Doubling down, I lose any footing I have as I kick my legs instinctively, and I find myself even more uncomfortable than before, still hanging from my arms with my back against the counter and my legs sprawled out in front. My joints hurt almost as bad as my genitals, stretching so much that I could swear they’re breaking.

He looks around, notices my black panties on the floor a couple meters away and grabs them. Ironic, my clothes are the only dry thing on the floor. Then, he comes close again. He ties one band of the g-string on the tap and pulls the other one, seemingly testing how much it can stretch. Apparently, the answer is “far enough”.

“I warned you to not scream, fuckpig. Now it’s time for the garbage”, he told me in a low, grating voice, before pulling the band down and around my throat. Letting it go, the tiny garment digs into the soft sides of my throat, resting against my jaw. What was once a fairly expensive undergarment had now been transformed into an even more disgracing noose.

Even through the past torment, I hadn’t expected that. I panic, seriously panic, and try to take in rapid, shallow breaths, but I find myself struggling. The panties are stretched too taut, and the fabric feels like steel against my throat. I shake violently, rattling the handcuffs against the tap and swinging around, still levitating off the tiles. Sit up Lia sit up, I command myself, but my jolting legs cannot find the strength to push me upwards. Every time I try thrusting myself off the ground, my heels slip on the floor still wet with his piss.

Somewhere through the chaos of my mind that is gradually getting hypoxic, I can distinguish a couple of thoughts more clearly than the rest. I am remembering all those times I had sex with hands around my neck, at that moment an exhilarating, dirty thing that got me cumming so much. I can’t help but compare it with now, getting strangled by my own fucking panties, with cum inside me and a bleeding asshole. I will die here, won’t I?

I will die like this. Like a cheap whore. Worse than a cheap whore.

That phrase is still on mind, but not much else is. I’m not moving around as much now. I don’t have the energy. My vision grows dark on the sides, and my eyes are just focused on his shoes now, on the red puddle. My legs are numb. Tingling. Through the buzzing in my ears, I can hear liquid flowing. I know that I’m pissing myself, but I cannot control it.

Cheap whore.

Rasps and wet sounds come out of my mouth. I’m trying to mumble, plead again, but it’s only vowels that can be heard. But the very notion that I try to speak earn me another kick, this time right in between my tits. A weird sound. I think he broke a rib. He’s going away now. I splutter, and a couple of bloody drops fly out of my lips. He’s back now, standing over me. A sharp, burning, stinging pain starts from my right breast, engulfing my tit and nipple in it as very hot liquid runs down my body from above. I can smell it; the coffee I had earlier, fresh from the heating pad. He moves to my left tit. Burning again, like hundreds of needles in my sensitive flesh. But no reaction, just some short breaths.

I can’t hold my head up. I let it go. I’m looking directly down. My body is still glistening, from piss and sweat and boiling coffee. My bald mound is looking swollen and as red as my aching tits. The pool of liquid beneath me is still expanding, now a mix between my yellow piss, the brown coffee and the crimson of my wounded body. I close my eyes. Another breath, shorter one. I feel his hand, on me, on my tit, right one I think. He’s fondling my pussy. It hurts, so bad. His fingers brush my clit. I twitch.

Cheap. My arms drop to my sides. I think he has unlocked the handcuffs. My ass falls down on the puddle. It feels cold. I feel cold. I imagine myself. I chuckle. Or maybe I don’t. I only focus on the one last thought. Whore.

He leaves her body there, and goes to get a cigarette. Coming back, he’s smoking it in the toilet, right in front of her. His cock is getting back up with every slow drag. The panties keep stretching, as the body is slowly succumbing to gravity and sliding sideways next to the counter. Suddenly, the fabric snaps close to the tap; with a low but audible splash, she falls down on the floor, the remains of her underwear still around her neck.

He bends down to put out the cigarette on her stomach. He looks at his watch; still an hour until he has to go. Wrapping his hand around his fat cock, he marvels at her battered, abused curves in front of him. It doesn’t take long until a second round of thick cum splatters on her messed-up makeup, her neck, her tits and even finds its way through her previously dark red lips.

He takes a few moments to rest. Then, time to go. He grabs a handful of hair and starts dragging, out of the restroom, through the kitchen, out of the back door. He walks down the steps, with disturbing thumps following every time a bone touches the concrete.

He opens the dumpster. Plenty of space inside. He pauses, getting some final good looks. He thinks of taking the panties off the neck, but decides against it. This is the most fitting place for them. Then, accompanied with a few grunts, he lifts her up and throws her in. Her feet, with heels still on like a bad joke, are hanging out, and he slaps them to get them inside. Pausing for a moment, he then reaches inside the dumpster, takes her right hand off of a leaking garbage bag and places one of her fingers inside her cunt. It slides in very easily. He throws in the clutch as well, minus the money, and closes the dumpster lid with a loud bang.

Back inside the shop, her dressed is sprawled on a coffee table while he’s sitting in front of it, looking through her phone. Some nudes, some other cute stuff, her name, her friends, the pictures he took while she was choking, all in there. He put it in his pocket and got up. Before leaving, he finds a bag to carry the dress in. It will look so good on his next girl.

Exiting into the street, with the first sun rays vaguely appearing on the horizon behind the buildings, he recalls the phrase she kept repeating while dying. “Cheap whore, cheap whore, cheap whore…” He wondered what that meant, and if she knew she was saying that, but only for a moment. He had to start walking. After all, the garbage truck would be there soon, and when it does, it’s better to be away from cheap whores.

gore

Will It Hurt?

They didn’t pay the ransom so it was time for me to go - my body to be left somewhere public so the next family knew he was serious. He says he likes me and gives me choices, all but one seemed too horrible to consider. I am terrified, too young to die especially by any of the ways he describes, but one choice gives me a little tug deep in my lower belly that kind of feels like hunger. So I listen to my body because my mind is in riot.

“The one on the pole,” I say, my voice trembling, fear sending ripples of frozen tingles through my core, “Will it hurt?”

“Oh, yes. It will hurt.”

“But it’s sexual, right?” I ask, desperate to find some ray of hope in all this. I feel weak and I’m trembling, even my boobs jiggle in my fear, the friction against the material of my sports bra making my nipples tingle and pucker.

The room is a concrete box with a steel door, tools of torture and murder along one wall. The air is filled with my own stink and his; mine is body odour from not bathing for a week - stale sweat and crotch; his has a faint smell of garlic and honest sweat - because the room is so warm. All week I’ve listened to a boiler roaring from the other side of one wall.

The man considers my question then answers; “It could be, I suppose. But strangulation is easiest and takes less than a minute. I can make it very quick.”

“That scares me.” I whisper, not being able to breathe being a recurring nightmare when I was little.

“The pole doesn’t scare you?”

“Yes, but …” I feel that pull again deep down where my sex lives and shudder.

“I get it.” he says, “Like I said; it could be sexual.

“Let’s do that then.” I say, committing to dying that way, irrationally thinking that at least I would feel like a teenager losing her virginity.

He gets the pole out and places it in a hole in the floor that is just the right size so it fits snug. Then he opens a tin of lard and scoops out a handful, greasing the pole from its sharp tip down its length.

“I’m doing this for you.” he says as he makes the pole slippery, “Not to make it faster, but to make it not hurt so much. You know that, right?”

I nod, wide eyes watching him prepare it for me. When the pole is coated with lard, the man wipes his hands clean with rag soaked in solvent. It makes the room smell like paint.

“Which hole?” he asks me, and the question confuses me. Facing inevitable death is distracting, besides won’t the sharp tip make its own hole? Then I realize what he is asking.

My only experience with my bum was when I was little and would get badly constipated and my mom pushed suppositories into me. I remember squirming and crying as the first one went in, but once her finger withdrew I realized it wasn’t so bad. The second one felt okay - warm and relaxing. It got so I trusted my mom, dropping my pyjama bottoms and laying down over her thighs without a fuss whenever I got constipated after that. I remember her slowly massaging my bumhole before pushing them into me and the sensation taking my breath away.

My experience with my other hole other than hygiene was limited to Clayton fingering me in the back of a limousine after middle school prom last year. As we were kissing, he had got his hand inside my panties and a finger inside my sex as my friends watched. Then he curled it in there and through my embarrassment I felt a deep pleasure.

“Ever been g-hooked?” he asked and started fingering me hard and fast, his curled finger banging hard inside me, lifting my crotch upward as I slumped on the cushions, my head laying against Mandy’s boobs. It was brutal and hard but it felt good - squishy and wet and loud in the limo - and I knew if he continued I was going to pee myself.

“Jesus Christ, Taylor.” Mandy had said, pushing against my shoulders to get me off her. If she hadn’t done that I might have let it all happen, but I squirmed away and demanded Clayton take me home.

“Well?” the man asks, “We have to get this done.”

“My front hole, I guess.” I say, feeling the heat in my face as I blush.

“Okay.” he says and takes hold of my waist, moving me so my back is to the pole, then lifting me. It is alarming how easily he lifts me, like a doll, my legs dangling, my sneakers feeling heavy on my feet. I thought he might get me ready first like Clayton did, or even let me warm myself up to make it easier, but no - this isn’t sex for him, this is an execution.

He strains as he holds me up, his hands clamped around my naked waist, the solvent on them making my skin tingle. I open my thighs, letting my lower legs dangle and feel the sharp tip scrape my most tender parts through my shorts and panties as he tries to get me on the pole. I reach down and grab his wrists to steady myself, making whimpering sounds, my terror climbing high.

“Line yourself up.” he strains.

I let go of his wrists and reach between my thighs, opening them wider so I can grab the top of the pole. I move myself, trying to line it up, but I am shaking badly and squeal when I feel it sinking into the cleft of my bum.

“Lift me!” I cry out in panic, “Lift me just a little!”

The pressure of his hands increases as he lifts and I feel the tip leave my bum. I push harder on the pole to pivot my crotch backward and feel it dimple the crease of my sex. It’s in the right place.

The ‘right’ place - oh, dear god it’s going into my sex. I flash on feeling Clayton’s finger in there, wanting it deeper, wanting him to finish.

“… okay …” I gasp and I feel him lowering me slowly, my shorts and panties ripping, the pole pushing into me taking my breath away like my mom’s finger did, like Clayton’s finger did. He eases me down and I feel my sex expanding around it, feel the tip centre on my cervix, penetrating and beginning to stretch me open there.

“… oh god!” I cry out. This is happening! This is really happening!

“I’m going to let you go now.” he says.

“… no-no-no-no-no-no …” I cry out as I grip the pole tighter, my knuckles turning white as he eases me down. Shiver-bumps dance up my thighs, bum, and belly as it penetrates me deep and the sensations inside me would have been glorious if not for the inevitable outcome.

Oh, mommy, I’m going to die.

My body slides down as I grip the pole in my fists for dear life, my crotch coming to rest firmly against my wrists, the weight of my body pinning my hands there. I am shaking badly, straining to hold myself from sliding down further, the terror I feel overpowering the beginning of good feelings. I can smell the fresh skunkiness of my oily armpits wafting up from my body.

“Just let go.” he says, “It’s going to happen anyway.”

“… no-no-no-no-no-no …” I chant, now whimpering. The pole is so slippery and I can feel it slipping through my fingers as my body lowers by degrees. The muscles in my lower belly clench down as though they can grip the pole tight enough to keep it from impaling me. My mouth starts to water, drool dripping from my lower lip and coating my chin, as I feel my stomach tightening and fluid rising up my gullet.

“… gunna be sick …” I moan.

“Don’t torture yourself.” he says, looking up at me, “Just let go.”

“… don’t … want it fast …” I gasp.

“I’ll ease you down.” he says, and I can hear the compassion in his voice as he moves behind me. I feel his right hand come up between my shaking thighs, cupping my crotch, the pole between his open fingers. His left hand slides around my waist and presses flat against my clenched lower belly. Then he squeezes and it feels like a hug.

“Okay, Taylor.” he says, his voice calm, “Time to relax.”

“… I can’t …” I whine.

“Yes you can. Your belly first.”

I am crying as I continued to strain, realizing he is right; I can’t hold myself up here forever. Slowly I let my lower belly relax, pressing it outward against his hand.

“… you’ll let me down slow?” I whimper.

“Yes.”

“… p-p-promise?”

“Yes, I promise.” he says, but can I trust him? The worst he could do is drop me and my weight would pull me swiftly down the pole and I would die quickly and brutally. But so far he has been kind to me and never lied. For a week he told me about contacting my parents, how they said they didn’t have the money, how he was going to have to kill me if they didn’t find it.

“I got you.” he says and I feel the pressure of his hand between my thighs increase, “I got you.”

“… okay … okay … okay …” I gasp, still gripping the pole between my legs, working up the courage to let go.

‘It’s inevitable’, I tell myself, ‘just do it … just do it’. For a week I have lived on water and tinned food, peeing and shitting in a pail, thinking only of getting out, of him releasing me. Now all I can think of is the next thirty seconds.

“… okay … okay …” This is it; I let the muscles in my legs ease first and they dangle on either side of my clenched fists. I slowly release my hands, feeling my weight transfer to his hands. I take a shuddering breath and let go of the pole, slowly leaning back against him as I slide down an inch, still supported by him, but taking the tip deeper into me. Oh my god, I’m full. My sex is full, so full. I’m not a virgin anymore.

“… ohhhhh god …” I moan, feeling the hard steel reach deeper inside me than anything ever has. New smells are rising from my body; an earthy hormonal smell from my crotch, and the coppery scent of blood.

“You’re okay.” his deep voice sounding seductive, “You’re okay.”

“… okay …” I gasp.

“Here we go.” he says and begins to lower me.

I breathe deeply and rapidly, feeling like I can’t get enough air as the pressure inside me builds. My tight cervix dilates around the tapered tip, pinching as it opens and the hard shaft slides into my uterus. It is the core of my sex, where sperm and eggs come together, where babies grow. But no baby will ever fill that part of my belly, no milk will ever swell my boobs. Instead the man is slowly easing me down on the pole that will kill me.

“… oh god … oh-god-oh-god-oh-god-oh-god …” I pant, feeling the sharp tip reach the top of my uterus, biting there, pushing deeper up into me. I feel it stretching me, elongating my uterus, pulling my sex up inside me, stretching the skin around my clitoris like a tight shoelace. It is starting to feel the same as when Clayton fingered me in the back of that limo, my friends watching me, me not able to hide the expression on my face and feeling the shame of it; I liked what he was doing and I didn’t want him to stop. Like I don’t want this to stop.

There’s no one to see me now and no shame in what is happening to me. It’s just the man and me - he knows this is sexual for me and is helping. I feel my eyelids flutter and my eyes roll up into my head. Now my arousal is growing stronger than my terror, and I pant with little shallow breaths as my sex is stretched so tight it feels like it’s going to snap like a rubber band pulled too tight. I feel the sharp pain as the tip punctures the top of my uterus, making a tiny hole that stretches wider. I feel bruised inside as the tension builds. I know what’s about to happen and when it does I gag and heave, my thighs shaking badly, my belly plumping outward as I feel the pole break through into my abdomen and my sex organs slide back down, clinging to the pole, my clitoris released from its bondage and such overwhelming feelings swelling in my lower belly. Good feelings. Back of the limo feelings.

“That’s a good girl, Taylor.” he says, “Let’s keep it going.”

He lowers me faster now, the steel rigid inside me as my bowels gurgle and moan, unused to this level of penetration. The sharp tip scrapes delicate flesh in my belly as it rises higher inside me. I remember the word Clayton said to me; ‘cum’ … “I’m gunna make you cum” he whispered. Up until then I thought only boys could cum.

“… gunna be sick …” I warn him as I squirm on the pole, my legs slowly treading the air as I slide downward, “… gunna throw up … gunna cum …”

“I know, baby.” he says tenderly, letting go of my crotch and wrapping that hand around me so both support my swollen belly, my back pressed against him like he is hugging me from behind. The spit is sliding upward and I begin quivering, shaking, my limbs twitching like I’m falling into a seizure. I feel the building pressure inside my core, sexual pressure, visceral pressure, the pole making it feel like there’s too much meat in there. My belly feels like it’s going to burst.

“Let it happen, Taylor.” he whispers and hearing the seduction in his voice I do; I release all tension left in my body and surrender totally. My fear is gone with this building storm in my belly, my core alive like never before. I feel piss spraying inside my panties and that vibration makes my clitoris throb. I hear myself fart as my bumhole loses its elasticity, then feel the runny shit burst from between the cheeks of my bum to foul my panties and shorts.

“Oh god!” I moan the last words I will ever speak as I throw my head back, feeling the tip pressing hard against my stomach. It feels like my guts are being pushed up my throat. I retch, gag, and projectile vomit my stomach empty in three violent heaves and my sex bites down on the pole as my cum explodes inside me.

I feel his hands ease off my belly and slide around my waist as he guides me downward. I am gagging, heaving, choking as the pole slides up my gullet and depresses the root of my tongue, my cum pulsing in spasms and waves. I open my eyes a slit and see the sharp tip appear as the pole slides out of my mouth, my teeth chattering against the metal, then my jaw bites down at the peak of my spasms and they shatter to bits in my mouth. My feet touch the floor but my legs have no strength and my toes are curled tight inside my sneakers. My entire body is quivering as he lets me slide down, my legs bending at odd angles as my thighs part, my sneakers sliding on the concrete floor. I am open and willing like a slut.

Oh god, what a horror he will leave for my mom and dad to find; their daughter’s mutilated corpse, skewered from sex to mouth, fouled with piss, shit, and vomit, left in a dank filthy alley. But as my bum comes to rest on the cold floor, the man lifts the pole out of the hole and pulls it up through my body and out my mouth as I lean forward, my hands limp like dead spiders where they lay on either side of me.

I gag one last time as the flat end of the pole slips over my tongue and out my mouth, and I try to gasp for one final breath, but inhale only vomit and blood. I fall to the side, my body slapping wetly in the mess I’ve left, my cum spasms echoing in what is left of me.

The man was good to me and only told me one lie; It didn’t hurt all that much after all.

The artwork was a commission drawn by deermary over on Furaffinity.
____________________________________________

Alice leaned up against the edge of the berm, breathing through her nose and keeping as still as possible. She looked through the sight of her rifle with her right eye, keeping the other one open so she’d have a sense if someone approached from that side. She was well covered though, and it was unlikely the enemy knew she was here. With the end of her weapon resting on a mossy log atop the berm, she prepared for what would likely be a long wait.

Every few seconds, she silently adjusted the rifle to the left, and then the right. She was responsible for watching the grassland between her and the tree line, and relief wasn’t going to come for at least eleven hours. It was quiet here, other than the odd breeze disturbing the grass and foliage, or the chirp of distant birds. As she watched the peaceful meadow, adjusting herself to find the most comfortable spot, Alice couldn’t help but let her thoughts drift elsewhere.

She knew she wasn’t supposed to; an inattentive soldier often became a dead soldier. Still, this particular post was a tertiary scout position, well behind the furthest forward lines, and it rarely saw any action. After all, that’s why she was the only one out here at the moment, in the middle of the day.

Her wandering attention landed on the events of last night, as she mutely observed shadows falling sporadically on the grass from the partly cloudy sky above. She moved her weight to one foot, allowing the other to rest. It pounded painfully in the too-small boot.

What a fucking prick, Alice thought, anger rising in her gut. I hope Tom gets blown up out there.

The fact was, she wasn’t even supposed to be on this stupid extended watch. It was just punishment for the party last night. That’s why she hadn’t even been given a spotter. This wasn’t a real sniper post; it was a time-out corner. And she had that cunt Tom to thank for it. He was the only one of her squad who got asshurt that she and the rest were up celebrating. They had every reason! Their patrol had uncovered an attempt to install a machine gun entrenchment near Echo camp. Tom was the only one to refuse to join in their get-together after. He went and got some Captain Stick-Up-His-Ass to break them up, and the rest was history.

Oh fucking well, she thought, momentarily returning her focus to her “task” and sweeping her scope across the vast field. At least I didn’t end up on tree felling duty for Foxtrot camp like the guys. She had escaped the worse of it, she supposed.

Shifting her weight to the other foot, it seemed like a poor consolation. What kind of jackass punished a group of soldiers for some harmless fun celebrating a job well done, anyway?

Something moved in front of her, and she detected it with her other eye. Leaning back from her scope for a second, she saw a Monarch butterfly flutter down and land on the end of her rifle’s barrel. It flapped its wings slowly, apparently content on its metal perch.

She smiled at it, forgetting for a second her woes. It was like the kind of thing you read about in a war poem: the author would be making some pretentious point about juxtaposing the serenity of nature against man’s cruelty or some stuffy shit like that.

A gunshot rang out, making her jump in surprise. Her training didn’t allow her to panic, and so she lowered herself, putting her cheek back on the stock of the rifle and peering down the sight. The shot was pretty far away, from the direction of the forest across the meadow, but that was all behind their forward lines. Her ears perked as best they could under her helmet, and silence prevailed as seconds passed.

Then another shot sounded, a bit closer, then several more in quick sequence. If her ears were correct, and they usually were, she was hearing the sound of at least two different weapons. One sounded like her army’s standard issue infantry rifle, and the other…

Another shot, and this time she was sure. The other weapon she heard was of the caliber used prominently by the enemy. Their snipers often utilized it; one must’ve made his way between the lines and decided to take shots at something. One of her fellows must’ve returned fire.

Out of the corner of her non-scope eye, Alice detected movement in the trees. Adjusting at once, she scanned the edge of the forest, looking for the slightest sign of an enemy sniper. If he made it all the way here…

A shiver ran up her spine, and she contained it as best she could. This was supposed to be as safe as place as there was on the front. A time-out corner, she had called it. Now an image swam to mind unpleasantly of her taking a shot through the forehead from somewhere in the trees.

One more shot, and this one was right at the tree line somewhere. She zeroed in on its location, and placed her finger on the modified trigger. Tall grass was disturbed at the tree line. Someone was moving through it, and she tracked the movement, ready to fire.

Someone popped up from the grass, running perpendicular to her line of sight. Immediately, she squared her sight at the center of the target’s mass. Whoever it was wasn’t wearing a helmet, and didn’t appear to see her. He was fleeing, that was obvious. His uniform was torn and dirty, but appeared to be that of an enemy scout.

Hesitating no longer, Alice fired. Her shot was north of its target, and hit the running man in the neck. He dropped like a stone into the grass, and largely disappeared from view. Yes! she congratulated herself. He never had a chance!

Just as she was patting herself on the back, several more shots rang out from the trees. There was more movement, and it was clear someone was now behind one of the trees she could see clearly from here. This person was apparently aware of her, for perhaps he just saw his comrade get smoked in the grass.

A hand emerged from behind the trunk, red furred like hers. It made a series of deliberate gestures and signals, and she stopped looking through the scope. This was one of her soldiers, giving her the “Don’t shoot; I’m friendly” signs.

She poked her head fully above the berm, and bellowed as loud as she could: “COME ON OUT! I GOT HIM!”

It was hard to tell at first, but it looked as though her messaged had been received. Two people emerged from hiding, jogging toward her out of the trees. Briefly peering through her scope again, she verified that these were friendlies. Shouldering her rifle, she climbed out of her nest and broke into a light run, on a course to meet them. She was giddy with excitement, impressed with her shot from a hundred and fifty yards or so.

The two soldiers diverted toward where she had dropped the scout, and as they reached him, one bent down in the grass next to him. He was doing something with his hands, maybe checking him for orders or taking his weapon. As she moved toward them, Alice couldn’t help but notice the kneeling soldier was still fiddling with something, and she slowed to a power walk in order to see better.

He was bobbing up and down, while the other soldier looked on. Wait a moment…

He was doing chest compressions. She came to a stop fifteen feet away or so, and sure enough, she could see the rough outline of the man she shot, and her fellow soldier earnestly attempting CPR on him. The other grunt was looking right at her in horror. She didn’t recognize either of them, but the one standing up was a Corporal.

“What did you do?” he asked quietly as she walked forward again, dreading what she was going to see. “Did you shoot him?”

“I…” Alice’s attempt at an answer was cut off by the full view of her victim. He was one of them, all right. He was a fox as well, and with a terrible pang of guilt, she realized she knew him. This was Tom, her squad mate. She saw the hole in both sides of his neck, and realized why he dropped so fast: she had torn through his spine. There was an additional wound in his gut that bled through his shirt, but her’s was definitely the kill shot. He must’ve died before he hit the ground.

The soldier kneeling by him ceased his life-saving efforts, falling backward onto his butt. He looked up at her, blood on his face and hands. His expression was that of disbelief, and not understanding.

“Why did you do that?” he demanded, panting and shaking his head. “Why?”

All Alice could do was stare, her eyes moving between him and the dead, unseeing face of her former pain-in-the-ass comrade. “I didn’t mean to…” she said, for that’s all she could think of. She hadn’t meant to. His uniform was filthy, and the red bloodstain must’ve played a trick on her mind. He hadn’t looked like himself from all the way back in her nest.

The eyes of both soldiers were uncomfortably fixed on her. The first climbed to his feet, and stood considerably taller than her. He was still shaking his head, incredulous. He was a Sergeant, she now saw.

“We need to report this,” he said. “We need to get back to camp.”

Alice was snapped to her senses. “I thought he was an enemy scout… I heard shots.”

“There was a sniper,” the second soldier said, moving to her side. “He got him in the stomach. But we got him.” He gestured at the trees. “The guy’s body is back there.”

Alice was wide-eyed, and she couldn’t muster up a defense for herself.

“Give me your weapon,” the sergeant said, extending a hand.

She didn't, and instead backed up slightly. “I didn’t know…”

He drew his own rifle to his shoulder, and pointed it directly at her chest. She was so surprised, she froze.

“Don’t make me shoot you, Private,” he said. “Surrender your weapon. You just killed one of our own. You need to come with us.”

She was still rooted to the spot, but the other soldier moved suddenly, crossing the distance between them and seizing her rifle in both hands. He wrenched it from her, tearing the sling from her shoulder and retreated from her with the weapon. The sergeant stepped forward in that instant, gripping one of her wrists in one hand while he dug in one of his cargo pockets for something with the other.

“Give me your other hand,” he said gruffly, and she complied, still in total shock. She was just looking down at Tom, who lay silently in the grass. There was a massive crimson pool underneath him. Something clicked behind her, and her wrists were squeezed together tightly by what she recognized to be a zip tie.

Without speaking, the sergeant put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her forward. He moved purposefully along the tree line, with the corporal in tow, carrying both his and her rifle. They marched in silence, as nobody seemed to have anything to say. What was there to say, anyway?

They were moving toward Echo camp, likely where these two boys were from. They likely just wanted to report to their chain of command, even though she herself was based out of Delta camp.

Alice just hung her head the whole time. Shock was turning into horror with every step, and guilt tore through her flesh, wringing her insides. How had things gone like this, and so quickly? Her life had been turned upside down in a single split second.

The perimeter fence of Echo camp came into view after twenty minutes, and they walked right through the guard station. Drawing stares from the dozens of men walking around, they proceeded inward, past tents and makeshift buildings, on their way to the very center. There was a command building there, and that was the obvious destination.

The three of them stopped outside the main building’s entrance, and the sergeant leading her spoke up.
“Keep her here,” he said to the guards flanking the door. “We need to speak with Major Darren.”

“What happened?” One of them, a Private First Class, inquired.

“That’s for the Major’s ears only,” came the response. The guard acquiesced, and took hold of Alice while her two companions headed inside. She stood quietly as several soldiers looked at her while they passed by.

After only a couple minutes, the door opened, and her arresting sergeant poked his head out at her. “Come in, Private,” he said with dead seriousness.

She did, and found herself ushered forward as soon as she crossed the threshold. The sergeant pulled her helmet roughly off her head as she entered. She was maneuvered to a desk off to the left, where sat an older fennec.

“Sergeant Holden’s just let me know what happened out at Nest Three,” he said, his voice strangely high. “You may go, Sergeant,” he added, looking over her shoulder.

“Tell me what happened,” he said kindly.

“I don’t know, sir,” Alice said, her voice shaky. She did her best to stand at attention despite her tied hands. “I heard several gunshots that I perceived to be from the enemy. I saw movement in the bushes, and them someone came running out.”

“Did you identify who it was?”

“No, sir. I thought from his uniform that he was an enemy scout. Once I made that determination, sir, I fired.”

The fennec Major nodded sadly. “This is very serious. According to Sergeant Holden, the man you fired at was a Private Niles. He was one of us.”

She nodded, looking at the floor. “I know, sir,” she said miserably. “He was in my squad.”

“Really?” That seemed to surprise him. “And you didn’t recognize him? That’s a damn shame…” His voice trailed off. “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling.”

She nodded again, not looking at him. She felt like crying, but that wasn’t what she did. Perhaps she was just too out of her mind.

“I wish there was something I could do for you,” he continued. “But this is going to be up to your commanding officer. Who do you belong to?” She told him.

“Under Colonel Miller?”

Alice swallowed hard. The fierce face of her wolf commander flashed to the front of her mind. “Yes, sir.”

The fennec sighed. She could guess why, given the Colonel’s reputation. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to refer this to him, since both you and the deceased were under his command. We’ll have a jeep come and pick you up and bring you back to Delta. Meantime, I want you to take a seat in the waiting area by the door.”

She looked at him finally, and there was pity written on his face. She mumbled another “Yes, sir,” before turning on her heels and walking alone to the few wood chairs near the reception desk at the door.

Sitting down, and leaning forward, wishing she could put her head in her hands, Alice couldn’t remember ever feeling worse in every way possible. She was guilty for killing her squad mate, of course, but it was far more than that. All she had done was talk shit about him, and now that made her feel even worse. Not only that, but there was no telling what Colonel Miller was going to do to her when he found out.

I’m going to prison, an intruding thought said. I’m going away for a long time. Maybe forever.

She didn’t have long to wallow in misery, because just a few minutes later, she was hauled into the passenger seat of a jeep driven by another private, a kid named Walters. They set off under the cool breeze and pleasant sunlight of the early afternoon, a day she certainly would’ve enjoyed if things were different. She found herself longing for the punishment watch she’d been on, and fantasized about waking up to find she’d fallen asleep at her post. It would make logical sense, she told herself, attempting to will that into becoming reality. She had been bitching about Tom, so it made sense to have a nightmare about him.

She didn’t wake up, of course. They rumbled along an uneven dirt road through the thick forest, bouncing up and down in their seats as they headed for Delta camp. After a few minutes more, an odd smell found its way to Alice. It was smoke, and it was strong.

Walters seemed to detect it at the same moment, for both of them began looking around for the source.

A distant boom echoed from somewhere in front of them, and they both snapped their heads forward toward the source. It was then that Alice noticed a plume of black, billowing smoke above the trees in the direction of her camp.

“Do you see that?” she said to Walters. He was looking right at it.

“Yea,” he said back. “That’s not Delta camp, is it?” He sounded frightened. Several more, equally far away explosions sounded from the same direction.

“Step on it!” she half-shouted at him. “They might need us!”

Walters punched it, and they flew toward their destination as fast as they could. As they got closer, it became more and more obvious that the smoke was coming from Delta camp, and that only made them more anxious. For Alice, it was a welcome change from the abject misery she’d been stuck in. She couldn’t stand the thought of losing any more of her squad, but perhaps if the Colonel was incapacitated…

They turned a final corner in the forest road, and saw the carnage that had been Delta camp. Gunshots rang out in a mixed cacophony, and she could see at least a dozen buildings and tents on fire.

They drove right through the perimeter fence, where no guards were currently stationed. They must’ve been fighting, and as the camp became properly visible, she could see people running everywhere. Shots still sounded from somewhere, and Walters pulled forward, though it was unclear where he was going.

“Pull over!” Alice shouted. “We need to—”

She was interrupted by a hail of bullets striking the front of the jeep. Several passed through the windshield, missing them by inches in some cases. Walters yanked the wheel hard to the right, and she nearly flew into his lap as the vehicle turned so sharply it nearly flipped over. The wheels broke loose in the dirt, and as he tried to correct, the jeep slid right into the side of a burning building. The front end smashed through the wall, and part of the fiery roof collapsed on the hood, threatening to set the whole car on fire.

The two of them bailed out of their respective sides, Walters stepping over the door and Alice falling ungraciously to the dirt. She hit the side of her face, unable to catch herself. As she tried to stand, more fire hit Walter’s side of the jeep, and she saw him collapse to the ground like a sack of potatoes. She could seem him, from the gap under the jeep. He was facing her, open mouthed and surprised. Half of the top of his head, including one of his eyes, was completely gone. A puddle of blood formed under him and spread out.

Gasping in panic, Alice scooted backward on her rear, desperate to get away from there. She slid around the side of the building, where the incredible heat felt as though it would set her ablaze just by proximity. Snatching her head around, there were bodies everywhere, some were her people and some weren’t.

Gunshots still echoed around, but they were fewer as the seconds passed. Oh god. Had they lost?

Someone came sprinting around the corner of the building, and nearly tripped over her. Her heart flew up into her throat, but it was a friendly, a coyote. A staff sergeant, and he looked down at her in total confusion before pulling her to her feet. Now that she saw who it was, she felt intense relief. She knew him; he was in command of the Military Police for the camps Delta though Foxtrot. His reputation preceded him, and she could hardly be safer with anyone else.

“Keep your head down!” Staff Sergeant Ayers said. “We’re pushing them back, but they’ve still got a little nest over by the command building!”

Alice obeyed, and followed her savior back the way she came. They turned away from where the jeep wreckage was, taking a roundabout way toward the center of camp. The staff sergeant had a submachine gun, which he carried at the ready. They skirted around toward the command building, using the still-slowing gunfire as a guide.

He turned a corner, and then immediately jumped back behind the cover of a tent when a smattering of bullets attempted to greet him. He put a hand on Alice’s chest, and pushed her backward onto her butt.

“Stay here!” Ayers hissed, and then, staying low to the ground, darted out from behind the tent again, sliding behind a pile of sandbags not far away. From there, she observed him poke his head above just enough to take aim and return fire.

His every shot hurt her ears, and she moved back from the engagement. After several exchanges between he and his target, he stood up suddenly. Abandoning his cover completely, he peered out at something, and lowered his gun. He stepped forward and out of sight, and she could only assume that it was safe to come out.

So, clambering to her feet with difficulty, Alice followed out from behind the tent, and took in the full scene at last. No shots rang out at all now, and there was panicked chatter from every direction.

The command building was a smoldering ruin. It was just a blackened shell with a collapsed roof, and there didn’t appear to be anything or anyone surviving within. Ayers was over by an overturned jeep, and was inspecting the bodies of two individuals. Hyenas, by the look of them. Standard infantry for the enemy.

Alice waddled awkwardly over to the staff sergeant, stepping over chairs, tables, boxes, and equipment that lay scattered everywhere.

“Pieces of shit,” he growled as she neared him. He yanked one of their weapons, a portable machine gun, out of the death grasp of its former owner. He let it fall to the side, and spat on the face of the conquered soldier. Then turning to her, he seemed to really regard her for the first time.

“I know you, don’t I?” he said. “Why are your hands bound?”

In spite of herself, and everything that had happened, Alice felt herself blush, and words failed her. She looked away from his intense gaze, preferring to stare at the partially burned ground.

“Private!”

She looked up at him obediently. He was looking her right in the face, and she just wilted under his stare.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she forced out. “I was out on watch, and there was a friendly fire incident. I was being returned here when we stumbled on the attack.”

The staff sergeant’s eyebrows raised and nearly disappeared under the rim of his helmet. “What the fuck happened? Wait—” He stopped himself. “We’ll deal with that later. What’s your name?”

Feeling slightly disappointed that he didn’t know it already, she spoke. “Private Grant.”

“Grant?” Staff Sergeant Ayers looked away for a second, appearing to think. “Alice, right? You’re in Roberts’s squad, aren’t you?”

With a little flutter in her stomach, she answered. “Yes, sir.”

He looked around, taking in the scene and seeming to think again. “Alright,” he said after a second. “Come with me. I saw the Colonel just a bit ago. We’ll let him decide what to do with you for now.”

They set off together toward the far end of the camp. Along the way, he asked her what happened, and she recounted the tragedy with shame.

“Fucking shit,” he said in a low voice. He shook his head. “That’s awful.”

She wasn’t sure what position he was taking, but as she wondered, he clapped her on the shoulder.

“Chin up,” he told her. “It’s fucked up, and I’m not going to tell you it’s ok. That was as bad a mistake as you could’ve made. That said, it’s over. You can’t take it back. Just take your punishment on the chin, and move on. That’s all you can do.”

“Yes, sir.”

This is a story based of off a roleplay I had with someone a while ago.

Hello, I'm Poguemahone. You might remember me from such stories as "A Cunning Plan", "Berty's Watch", "Applebloom Lends a Hand" and "The Interview".

So I've not really been updating a lot. This has happened before. The stories I write are fantasies I dream up, then put to paper. Sometimes I try to be smart and high-concept and end up writing stories that aren't genuine fantasies, and that never works. So I took a break, and thought of a really dumb idea that made me laugh, but I still think it's hot. So here we are, just to get me back into the writing mood.

Also: finally going with a username. Keep an eye out for it!

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Fun with Faeries

Tim really couldn’t wait to get home. Today had been, quite frankly, awful. A late shift in the shitty retail store he worked in had drained him of most of his energy. He had spent the whole day on the check-outs, having inane conversations at the best of times and actively wishing for death the rest of the time. When the store had finally closed he had practically flown away. At least tomorrow he would be free to indulge in his main activities these days, mainly surfing the web and masturbating (possibly both at once).

As poor Tim walked home to his lonely little apartment, he couldn’t help but feel more and more down. Life had taken a dramatic downhill turn for him in the last few months. Most of his friends had moved to the bigger cities around the country, his parents were distant and he hadn’t gotten laid in years. He was putting on weight from the junk food he was eating, and it wasn’t like he was one to go to the gym. If he didn’t work practically full-time in a job he hated he would be out on the streets. Tim knew that he needed his luck to change. Maybe he should finally buy a guitar and learn it. Maybe he could play the starving artist part. He had half of it down already.

The sky looked down on him disapprovingly. A few stars had shown up despite everything. One in particular was shining particularly hard, as if it was trying to communicate some alien message. Tim stared up at it, almost tripping on a loose piece of pavement as he walked. A thought struck him, and he laughed and shook his head, but the thought remained: “When you wish upon a star…”

“…Fuck it…” he murmured, shrugging sadly. He mumbled his little wish under his breath. Nothing happened, of course, but he felt a little better for it. Then he went home.

Tim’s apartment was bare and dirty. He locked the door, navigated his way past the clothes that past-Tim had dumped onto the floor, and entered his bedroom. He collapsed onto the messy sheets of his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He slid a hand down his pants with one hand and browsed his piece-of-shit phone with the other, not even bothered to get his laptop up from the floor beside him. He was too tired to even masturbate properly. He found his eyes getting heavier and heavier, and before long he had dozed off.

When he awoke, Tim felt a strange warmth on his face. Blinking and shaking his head, he opened his eyes, and gradually he became aware of a strange light, yellow and faint, that was permeating the room. He sat up, and seen that the light was coming from the window. In actual fact, it seemed to be coming from…the stars? No. Maybe this was a dream. A really boring dream where he was still a loser in a shit apartment, but still. He crawled over to the window and peered out.

Something was coming towards him.

Tim shot back, breathing hard. What on earth was happening? He waited a few seconds before peering back out again. Yes, something humanoid shaped, arriving at speed. It appeared to be sparkling. As it got closer, Tim could see that it was female, clad in a sort of silvery dress, and had a pair of translucent little wings on its back. It also became very apparent very quickly that this…thing, whatever it was…was very small. In just a few more seconds, the strange being flew past the statue-like Tim and into the apartment. He whipped around, watching as it flew little figure-eights in the air, leaving a shimmering trail as it went, before landing on his desk.

“Why hi there!” said the figure.

“What.” Said Tim. She giggled exaggeratedly-she was like a cartoon. In fact, she reminded Tim very much of Tinkerbell from Peter Pan. She must have been only about 6 inches high.

“Why so surprised?” she asked. “You made a wish, right? A wish for a little cheer, a little spark, for something…magical to happen? Well, mister, you’re gonna get your wish! The name’s Fay! Fay the Faerie, at your service!”

Tim stared back. Fay giggled again.

“Aren’t you gonna introduce yourself, mister?” she asked.

“Oh, uh…Tim! I’m Tim. My name is Tim. Uh…” he managed.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Tim!” said Fey the Fairie. She stuck a tiny hand out. Tim attempted to shake it, clumsily using his whole hand to do so. A loud crunching sound was heard. Tim felt her bones snap in his clutch, and he shot back.

“Oh no, so sorry! I didn’t…please don’t…I…” he spluttered. Fay looked down at her mangled arm with a frown. The hand was hanging loosely at the joint, and the elbow was facing the wrong way. Tutting, she shook her head at the mortified human.

“Now that was just plain silly of you. Ok, so I usually never have to explain this, but since you just went and made a boo-boo with my arm, I’m going to let you in on a secret. You listening?” Tim nodded. The little creature didn’t seem to be in any real pain as she spoke. “Fairy’s may be small, but we can survive almost anything. The one thing we need is belief. Long as there are humans out there clapping their hands and saying “I believe”, we’ll be right as rain. Give it a try, Tim!”.

“Uh…ok.” Feeling a bit childish, Tim clapped his hands. “I believe.” There was a flash of light, and Fae’s arm had magically mended.

She stretched it a little, before smiling up at Tim. “See? Neat, huh?”

Tim stared down. He had started to sweat. Fey was an attractive little thing, her silver dress just revealing enough to show that she wasn’t wearing a bra. He hadn’t been able to relieve himself for a whole day, which was a long time by his standards. He could feel himself stirring beneath his trousers, and he shifted uncomfortably.
“So uh…what are you here to…do?” he asked.

“Well, that’s up to you, Tim! We faerie’s just get sent to wherever there’s a boy or girl who wishes upon a star, who needs a little hint of magic in their life! Of course, you’re uh…a bit bigger than what we normally deal with, but a wish is a wish!”

“So…can you, like, use magic? Can you make me rich and famous?”. Fey giggled again. It was beginning to annoy Tim.
“Haha, now hold your horses just a moment, Tim! I can’t just go around doing that to every boy or girl who makes a wish, now can I?”

“Ok, so…are we going to Neverland then, or…”

“Haha, good one, Tim! But don’t believe everything you hear about faeries. We live in a star, obviously!”

“Well…can I come?”

“I don’t know, Tim. Can you fly?”

“Well…no.”

“Then you’re outta luck, friend! Haha!”

Tim sighed and crossed his arms.

“Well what can you do? I dunno, it seems like you’re talking an awfully big game, but you’re not really delivering.”

“N-now now, don’t be sour, mister!” said Fey, her cheerful demeanor faltering for the first time. “It’s just that…well…most kids are just happy to see me, so I give them a little cheer and maybe fly around for them, and then I go on my way, is all…” she explained, tracing a tiny foot around on the desk.

“I’m not a kid.”

“Can see that, Tim. Oh geez, I’m sorry, I’m…I’m not very good at this, am I?” said the fairy. Tim suddenly felt a twang of sympathy for her; she probably wasn’t used to dealing with adults. “I can’t go back without having made someone happy. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

Tim thought very carefully before replying.

“…Anything?”

“You name it, mister.”

“Anything at all?”

“That’s right.”

“Even if it involves…you know…” Tim waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Fey stared at him.

“Not quite following where this is going, Tim.” She said, with complete sincerity. Tim shrugged, and unzipped his fly. He was fairly average in terms of size, but his member was still at least the same height as Fae was. She stared at it wild eyed as he let it dangle a yard in front of her, and the faerie visibly gulped. She looked up at Tim, who held her gaze. He couldn’t help but grin as she took this new information in.

“Oh.” She said, eventually. “Uh…hey now, that’s not really what we’re about…”

“I thought you said you’d do anything to make me happy?” said Tim. “I thought you couldn’t leave until you had?”

“Well…yes, that’s true. Oh, boy, this is all…wow, I’ll level with you, mister, I did not see tonight going in this direction.”

“Well, neither did I.” said Tim cooly. “But it looks like this is happening. Chop chop.”

“Well…ok then...” said Fey. She reached a tiny hand out as Tim leaned forward. He was stiff as a board as her hand made contact with the smooth surface of his cock. She stroked up and down, as if trying to soothe it.

“How am I even going to…do anything?”

“That’s your problem, not mine. Use your imagination.”

“Imagination. Sure. How bout you go lie down there, sport, and I’ll uh…get to work”

Tim walked over to the bed, took his trousers and pants off, and lay down on his back. Fey hovered over and placed a hand on each side. She started to slowly work her hands up and down, which felt vaguely pleasing but not particularly stimulating for the horny human.

“Gonna need a little more than that, Fey.”

“Uh…ok…”

The fairy leaned forward and laid a tentative kiss on the side of Tim’s cock. She worked her way up, her lips as light and soft as a wisp of smoke, until she reached the tip. Without stopping her hands caressing, she started to kiss and lick the bulbous head, and Tim gasped.

“Yeeeah…that’s good…” he said. Fey kept this up for a while, rubbing her body up against his fully erect member, and was eventually rewarded with a glob of pre-cum, which coated her face. She stepped back and wiped her face clean with her hands.
“S-so is that it? Are you happy now?” she asked. Tim laughed.
“Oh, I’m just getting started. If you really want to make me happy, you should take that dress of yours off.” He said, pointing a finger at her silvery clothes, which now sported a few stains. Blushing madly, Fey sighed and slipped out of her dress. She didn’t really have any real tits to speak off, her nipples bright pink on her pale chest, but she had a nice figure, and no body hair to speak off. Tim quickly thrust a finger forward so that it was between her legs, and started to rub.

“W-what the-“

“What, don’t you enjoy this?” asked Tim, as he worked his finger underneath her smooth skin, feeling the hairless slit moisten slightly as contact was made. “I think you do. We can both be happy, tonight.”

“Well…I’ve always wondered…what it would be like if me and a human did anything like this.” Admitted Fey. “ I don’t think we could go all the way thoOOOOH!”she screamed, as she felt the tip of his index finger work its way inside her pussy. She felt a hanf gently but firmly hold her still, and soon she was helpless as he began pumping his finger in and out of her, going further and further inside her every time. Soon he was up to the middle joint, his digit making an obscene bulge in her mid drift. She moaned at the feeling, but he quickly withdrew his finger.

“Looks like fairy’s are a stretchy lot. Or is it just you?” he asked aloud. She could feel the cold air in the gaping hole he had made of her slit-his finger had been pressing up against her cervix, and might have penetrated even that if he had kept at it. Fey suddenly felt herself getting lifted down towards his waiting penis.

“Ready for the main event?” he asked.

“N-now, uh, let’s not do anything hasty!” she pleaded. But it was too late. He slowly guided himself into her hole, inching the head inside. She yelled as she felt her pussy stretch in a way she had never felt before, her legs bending impossibly outwards-she thought she heard her hips snapping to accommodate the thing. Tim slowly started to slide her up and down his rod, as if she was a sex toy. This time his cock barged all the way past her cervix and into her womb, before continuing up, bulging her belly out massively.

“God, it’s tight…” muttered Tim. He felt like cumming almost immediately, and made sure to take things slowly-he didn’t want to shoot his load just yet. He closed his eyes as he worked, his hand moving up and down at speed as he jerked himself off using the fairy’s broken pussy. After a few minutes, he had miraculously not cum yet, and Fey had moaned herself out. He stopped and looked down. His penis was bulging out the skin just beneath her rib cage so that it was in front of her own face. He could support her weight now entirely without having to use his hands-she hung there, impaled on his cock, a faraway look in her eyes.

He slowly slid off, careful not to set himself off, and held her in front of him. The skin of her abdomen was now loose and stretchy, hanging off of her frame slightly. Her pussy gaped a few inches wide, which for a woman her size was quite a sight. Raising her up, he could see all the way up into her womb. He could slide his finger in there without touching the sides, and he did so, stirring it around. Then he wiggled his tongue inside, lapping at her walls and her womb. She tasted sweet, but with a certain something extra, like popping candy. A weak voice spoke:

“Are…we…done?” it asked.

“I’ve still not came.”

“Why…stop?”

“Because I want to try something.” He replied. Fey didn’t even bother protesting as he turned her around and aimed himself at her other hole. This time, instead of gently loosening her up, he simply jammed himself in without any warning or ceremony, practically hilting himself in one go. This time, he aimed more upwards, towards her head. He felt something give, and Fey wretched as something foreign traveled up her throat. He kept going, uncaring, lost in the sensation, as he slowly forced her organs up her torso with his invading cock.

She opened her mouth, and a few loops of intestines fell out, dangling in front of her chest. They kept on coming, soon joined by other organs, some of which simply fell onto the bed with a wet thud. Her heart, lungs and stomach were ejected from her mouth, and soon his cock was traveling up her throat and out of her mouth, covered in a thin veneer of blood. He kept on going, moving her body up and down rapidly, holding her skin tightly against himself. He felt her spine snap in several places, her legs attached only by her stretched out skin as he thrust his head against the roof of her mouth. It didn’t hold up long, and he had soon penetrated her brain, turning it to jelly almost instantly. Finally he was unable to hold his climax back any longer, and he came hard inside her, filling her empty body up with his seed. One eye was forced out of her socket as it travelled into her head, flushing her brains out. He cried out, using her as a condom, before collapsing back into his bed. He was asleep before he knew it, Fey still hanging from his cock.

Fey surveyed the wreck of her body, her internal organs lying in a heap in front of her, heart still beating as if nothing was wrong. She was too tired to move, and was still impaled on Tim’s penis, jaw almost dislocated as it stretched around him, and one her eyes dangling from an optic nerve. Well, as long as he could feel her, he would have to believe in her, right? She would get him to fix it in the morning, assuming he had calmed down and was feeling apologetic. As she drifted off, she had but one thought:

“Human sex is crazy!”

Alice-I'm Alice

Lauren-And I am Lauren

Both-and welcome to The Ultimate Underage Warrior Tournament!!!

Alice-Twenty-Four girls under the age of eighteen have been brought into this tournament against their wills and will battle to the death!

Lauren-We will start this tournament with one on one fights until only six fighters remain. From there we will have two-three girl fights to decide our semi-finalists. Finally, our semi-finalist will face off in one last fight to decide our winner

Alice-But now let's meet our combatants!

Here a quick, short story i wrote. Please be placid with my strange grammar wording and spelling errors, english is not my native language. And i wrote the story very fast, as i had to get it out of my head.

—-

Sakura and Tomoyo went home after scool when Sakura saw an old lady trying to cross the street. She had two big bags full of groceries

and was barely able to lift them.
"You can go home, i will just help the lady, carry her stuff home. She leves in my neighborhood and does not have anyone else." said

Sakura.
"You are so nice, as always. See you tomorrow" said tomorry and waved her goodbye.

At home she already missed Sakura that much, that she had do call her. But Sakura did not pick up her mobile. After she tried it a few

times, she got anxious. She could not just wait and and went straight towards Sakuras house. On her way she again tried to phone her. To

her surprise, she heard Sakuras ringtone from a nearby dustbin. She looked around and as nobody looked she opened the dustbin. On top she

saw a garbage bag filled with clothes Tomoyo immediately recognized. It was Sakuras school uniform. Shocked she directly went to the

house where the dustbin belonged to and ringed the bell until somebody opened the door.

The old Lady from before opened the door just so far that she could see, who would disturb her. "We don't buy anything. Go away" she said

and slammed the door.
It was just for a split second, but Tomoyo saw in the background a naked bound and gagged figure kneeling on a counter. She had

immediately recognized, that this was Sakura.
She ringed the bell again and banged the door, but there was no reaction inside.

Tomoyo was desparate. So she called Sakuras home, because it was nearby and she could expect help the fastest way. Sakuras father picked

up the phone.
"Hello Tomoyo, what's up?" "Sakura is in danger! The old lady! She captured her. She will…" "Please calm down. What old lady? What

happened?" The old Lady from the Neighborhood! Sakura helped her and now she kidnapped her! We must call the police." "Tomoyo, please

stay calm. If it's the same Lady i know, she is totally harmless. Lets not make more of a story of it than necessary, before we know

more. I will immediately come to where you are."

After a few long minutes Fujitaka met Tomoyo before the house. "Here, she said excitedly, "Her clothes, i found them in this trashbin".
"That is indeed strange, Sakura had never the habit to remove her clothes in public." "Of course not! Quick, it's this door, lets get

inside."
"Ok, ok, perhaps the lady knows more." said Fujitaka and ringed the doorbell.

Again the door opened and the old Lady appeared.
"Ah, are you her father? You should learn your daughter some manners, she almost upset the whole neighborhood."
"No, she isn't my daughter, i'm Sakuras Father, I'm sure you know her. I wanted to ask you, if you have seen her."
"Sakura? i don't know, who this should be. Tell her to be quiet and go away." She said harshly. But before she could close the door,

Tomoyo slipped inside. The lady darted behind her, and grabbed her arm before she could come far. Meanwhile also Fujitaka had entered the

House. "Sorry, for her behaviour, but we are a little bit worried. She found Sakuras Clothes in your dustbin, so we thought you might

know something about her whereabouts." "Does she always do through other peoples trash? She really needs some manners. And for this

Sakura, if you find her, tell her, she should not use other peoples trashbin, if she feels like going naked." Tomoyo, still held by the

Lady nearly exploded "She isn't that kind of girl. Someone must have undressed her!"

Fujitaka said "Please calm down, we won't come further with anger. Here i have the photo from her students card."
"Never seen her. Now please leave my house, i have some cooking to do".
"May i ask, what you are cooking?" Fujitaka asked.
"Sakura! She is cooking Sakura, i know it" interrupted Tomoyo.
"Quiet, girl, i am just cooking piglet."

Fujitaka hesitated a moment
"Hmm.. may we see, what you are cooking? We promise, will go away, if it is, as you tell"
"You really are too noisy. But if can't get rid of you otherwise"

She let Tomoyos arm go and went into her kitchen. The others followed. In the Kitchen beneath a big counter there was a very large oven

gleaming red. And in the oven they could clearly see a girl, hands bound behind her back, kneeling in a baking tray. They only could see

her back and her behind, supplied with some large vegetable in pussy and ass. Her hands were decorated by paper cuffs like on pultry. She

was surrounded by vegetables and potatoes. The oven was obviously at full power. Her skin was already reddened and was glistening from

fat. From the pan she was sitting in, smoke had already begun to rise.

"There i knew it, it's Sakura!" Tomyoy shouted and tried to sprint to the oven, but again was held back by the iron grip of the Lady.
"I see some discrepany to what you said, this is clearly not a piglet." said Fujitaka.
"Did i say piglet? i mean girl. I always use the word piglet, when i cook a girl. And it is not your daughter, of course. It's some girl

i bought yesterday in the market."
"It's Sakura, i recognize this butt within 1000 butts."
"Young girl, apart from what your expertise in girl behinds might say about you, do you want to call me a liar? I bought her from the

local market…"
"They don't sell girls on the market."
"…i mean she volunteered. She came yesterday and insisted on becoming my dinner."

"Do you mind, if i find your story a little bit dubious?" said Fujitaka. "This behind reminds me in fact a lot of my daughter."
"Do you think, just because i am old and fragile you can bully me and call me a liar? Get out already. I have work to do. I have to baste

the roast. My grandchildren, ehm, Tommy and Annika will come in two hours. They were looking so forward to this girl roast. They will be

sad, if it burns."
"We stay until we have seen her face. Take her out of the oven NOW" said Tomoyo.
"Ah do what you want…" said the lady and let her arm go as she went to the oven.
She opened the door and a big heat immediatly streamed into the kitchen. With two oven mittens the lady slid the pan out of the oven and

set her with ease onto the counter. On the pan sat Sakura, an apple in her mouth, her eyes half closed, clearly not fully conscious.

There was a small skewer piercing both of her small tits, garnsished with onions and peppers, so that the skewer looked like some sick

sort of nipple kebap. Below the skewer her belly had some unnatural bulge.

Tomoyo went pale. Only Fujitaka kept his cool:
"With all due respect, this IS my daughter Sakura. And i do not think, she volunteered to this without asking me first."
"Ah, is she now? I did not recognize her from the photo." The lady said unmoved and began basting Sakura with a brush. As she touched the

skewer with her brush, Sakuras eyes widened. She recognized Tomoyo and her father and tried to wiggle free from her bonds and tried to

speak thorogh the apple in her mouth.

"She lives! Quick, remove the apple. She did not volunteer, she can tell us. This shoudl be prove enough".
"The apple stays," said the Lady, continuing her work on Sakuras body."its in the reciepe."
As she went downwards towards her pussy, Sakura whimpered in agony.
"Could you stop and free her at last? You have no right to cook her. She never volunteered".
"Don't interrupt me, or i will forget a place. I'm done in a second, then we can talk."
Fujitaka said to Tomoyo: "She is right, let her finish, then she is perhaps more relaxed and cooperative with us."


"Correct. You don't want to ruin the roast. As i said, she volunteered, and would surely be sad."
She hummed to herself while finishing the basting of her backside and her ass.

After this, the lady opened the oven door.
"Wait, you want to put her back? No, never!" cried Tomoyo.
Ignoring Tomoyos protests, the old lady placed Sakura back in the oven, this time facing outwards.
Sakura muffled crieas became more intense, as she felt the heat again.
With a slam the lady shut the oven door and turned the heat up by 20 degrees.
"You do not want the roast to cool out."
"I must agree, the meat would become dry" added Fujitaka.

Fujitakaa looked through the oven door at his daughter sitting in the middle of the sizzeling pan.
"My, how my little girl has grown. And i never noticed that she was pregnant"
Here the old lady smiled for the first time.
"She only seems pregnant. This is just stuffing."
"Stuffing? How did you get so much stuffing into my little princess?"
"Look!" she said and produced a strange mechanism. It looked like a pear with a screw on the shaft. The pear itself consists of 4

segments that spread up, when the screw was screwed.

(remark from the author: google "Pear of anguish", i meant something like tis)

Tomoyo went pale and nearly fainted.

"This is my pussy spreader. An old kitchen item i herited from my grandma. You push it into the pussy and then you screw until it gets

harder. Then you screw a little bit more until you think, it will break. Then you can add two turns and you have a lot of room for

stuffing. They always seem pretty tight, but at that age, they are surprisingly flexible.
When stuffed, you remove it with a plop and quickly plug it with a large leek or something."
She obviously enjoied talking about cooking.

"But be aware that they tend to scream a lot during this. Your girl here screemed like being spitted alive." She said laughing.
"Yes, she always was a little crybaby. I remember when she skinned her knee while…"

"Could we please return to the topic!", Tomoyo interrupted.

"Topic?"

"Yes, the 'stop cooking Sakura' Topic!" said Tomoyo amgry.

"You are right, i don't think she has a lot more time."
Sakura had her eyes half closed and seemed to be in a sort of trance. Smoke rose from her body and the fat on her rump was glistering.
"And she is starting to smell delicious" added Tomoyo in horror.

"You are right, quite delicious! So, I am quite fond of my little princess and would still prefer her not to die as a roast in your

oven."

"And what about my poor grandchildren? Shall they suffer hunger?"

"How about you cook Tomoyo here. Tomoyo, how about you show the lady your body. I'm sure, you do not have to hide behind my daughter from

the culinary point of view"

"Wait…What…!?!"

"Thaks for the offer, she looks tasty, but i already spent 2 hours on your brat here. I won't let it go to waste. Also, my grandchildren

will be here soon. What should i tell them, when the meat is still raw?"

"She has a point."

"And thats not the only point against this deal!" added Tomoyo, not at all pleased by Fujitakas offer,

"How about you could go to McDoodles, children love this."

"Timmy doesn't".

"Wait.." interjected Tomoyo, "What was the neame of your grandchildren?"

"Timmy and ….ehm Tommy and….The other one."

"You don't have any grandchildren, admit it!"

"And if? I am an lonely old lady. Is it illegal for lonly old ladies to grab some child to eat it?"

"In fact, yes, it is."

"Bah, you are some spoilsport…" said the lady and opened reluctantly the oven door, pulling Sakura out.

Sakura did barely notice anything her breathing was flat but she was alive. Slowly she opened her eyes.

"Daddy….Tomoyo…what happened?…."

"Shhh, we are going home now. everything's OK."

Fujitaka lifted Sakura from the scorching hot pan. He almost burned his finges on her hot skin.

As he wanted to remove the leek from her pussy, the lady interjected.
"Don't you dare removing this here. The filling will spill out. I don't want to have the mess on my carpet. Get out with her. At once."

As they left the house Fujitaka was caerfully looking at his girl. It was ages, that he was carriying her naked like this, her nude form

leaning against his body. The skewer was still piercing her nipples, as he did not dare to remove it. A sweet fragrance came from here,

maybe from the marinade, maybe from her nearly cooked body.

Fujitaka let Sakura down and told Tomoyo:
"Could you hold her a moment? I have to call Toya." After releasing Sakura, he absentmindedly licked his finges, that were full of

Sakuras marinade and basting, maybe also a little bit of her juices. He stood silent for a moment. Then he took his phone and dialed

Toyas number.

"Toya, we will be home any moment. Could you preheat the oven, please?….Yes, i know, Sakura has kitchen duties. Of course. And she will

provide tonights dinnner.", he said smiling at Sakura.

"Come princess, we have to go home. Toya is waiting for dinner."

"But….dad…i am not sure, if i can eat anything, i feel ….so full….already. And i feel cold. "

Fujitaka looked at her belly.

"Sure you do not need to eat today. Just relax. A nice warm place waits for you."

Random short stories involving the deaths of children; all of them featuring looks, but a few might have a shots or two thrown in.

Others are free and encouraged to write stories of their own.

Slutty Daughter

Mg(11), necrophilia, shooting, piss.

John groaned as he sprayed cum into the eager mouth of his eleven-year-old daughter. Samantha gagged, but sucked down every bit she could, with only a few trickles spilling down her chin. She gripped his shaft once more while nibbling the tip, licking excess cum off like ice cream. He was sure he’d cum again, when…

“What the hell is this? You fucking pervert!!” His wife, Martha, stood in the doorway, glaring at them as they turned their dumbstruck faces in her direction.

“This isn’t what it seems…”

“She seduced me,” he interrupted, pointing at Samantha as she licked cum off her lips.

Martha sighed. “I suppose I can’t blame you, Johnathan. You’re horny and I know you can’t help it when someone offers.”

She glared at Samantha. “As for you, my nasty little slut.” Martha reached into her purse and pulled out a .44 Magnum. Samantha’s eyes grew as her mother forced her head back and placed the nuzzle against the bottom of her chin.

“Please mom, I won’t… ACK!”

The bullet tore through her chin and mouth, and exited through the top of her head, leaving a gaping hole as blood and brain splattered all over the room. John watched, his mouth agape, as her lifeless body collapsed onto the bed beside him. The crotch of her shorts turned dark, the contents of her bladder gushing out for a final time.

“I’m going to get a drink. I’ll be back in ten, this better be cleaned up when I get back.”

She walked out, slamming the door behind her.

A sigh escaped John’s lips as he looked down at Samantha’s corpse. “Well, suppose I shouldn’t waste this.”

He removed her shorts, no panties underneath, as usual, revealing a pristine cunt moist with her last piss. It was smooth and, owing to John’s fear of getting her pregnant, untouched. Looking into her vacant brown eyes, he inserted his dick into her tight hole for the first time, after so many months of her begging for it, and tore her hymen. As virginal blood soaked his shaft, he fucked his dead little girl harder than he would have dared if she were alive. It didn’t take long; after only a few minutes he came, spraying his hot and sticky seed into her underdeveloped womb. He pulled out and shot the remaining squirts into her asshole.

“I wish I could do this a little longer, sweetie,” he said, kissing her forehead. He got dressed and went to work disposing her body, albeit after taking a few good snapshots with his phone, and scoured the room of any evidence that a gruesome murder took place.

Michael leaned on his tall axe, letting the melancholy feeling wash over him as the handle dug into the soft wood of the platform. It was drizzling a little, and that made today even worse. He hated to kill someone when the weather was shitty like this. His job was bad enough as it was; normally he gained a slight amount of comfort from having his victims pass away under the sunlight of a nice day.

But then he didn’t have any choice in the matter, so it was no use bitching about it. Instead, he contented himself with doing what he normally did when waiting for the prisoner to be brought out to him: he people watched.

There was a modest crowd formed outside and a few feet below his platform, and it was always interesting to him to take note of who came to watch executions like this. These were different, after all, than the usual fare, and they exposed the strange underbelly of their town. For these were rebellion-related executions, and that changed some things. For one, the prisoners were all made to die naked, much to Michael’s chagrin. He didn’t like them to be humiliated like that. That seemed to change the composition of the crowd; he found that far more “regulars” made appearances than random faces.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about those people. Were they sick? Just wanted a chance to see an attractive nude body? He supposed so, for there were all these young and middle aged men that seemed to come to each and every one of these. The public wasn’t told ahead of time who was to be put to death, so Michael supposed they just showed up in the hopes of seeing eye candy. But then again, these poor prisoners weren’t coming out here to model for the crowd…

And that was another thing. Ever since the rebellion fell, his job got ten times more miserable, because he had to end ten times more people. And many of them had been convicted under suspect or nebulous circumstances, leading him to the inevitable conclusion that he had surely killed at least a few people who had done absolutely nothing wrong. It was enough to weigh on any man’s soul, and Michael liked to think of himself as being more sensitive than most.

A door opened from the jail fifty feet behind the platform, and he turned to look as a thin, frail looking female form was brought out, carried by both arms by two surly looking guards. He knew those guys; they were total assholes. They tended to verbally abuse the prisoners before bringing them out to Michael.

He shook his head as he watched their progress. The woman had the customary black bag over her head, which was to be removed when she reached her final destination. It was times like this he questioned yet again why he even did this job. But that wasn’t hard to answer of course. All his mind had to do was conjure the image and smell of the wonderful dinner he’d had last night with his family, the delicious seared meat, the crunchy, delectable loaves of bread, the fresh, crunchy vegetables. All he had to do was compare that with the gruel he used to bring home to be forced down by his thinning children, and that was enough. He had to do this. He hated it, but he had to do it.

The woman was brought up the stairs to him, and he could tell from here that she was shaking like a leaf. She was skinny, but had some muscle on her. It was worth wondering what she’d done for a living before finding herself here. Normally that was an easy question to answer, with criminals like thieves or corrupt politicians. But these rebels… It was nearly impossible to say. She might’ve done anything, maybe just got caught up in a raid while minding her business.

He shook those thoughts from his head. The only thing he couldn’t do was get too personal with his victims. That could ruin him, as he’d seen it ruin executioners before him.

She was brought to him, and one of the guards sneered something in her ear that Michael couldn’t make out. The bag was ripped from her head, and he set eyes upon her face for the first time.

She was a mouse, a timid, terrified creature with a head of straight, pretty auburn hair. Glancing down, she had a small, perky pair of breasts, and he didn’t let his eyes wander further south than that. That was private, and he generally refused to violate that privacy. The second the bag came off, she did what nearly everyone did: she looked at him, then his axe, and finally the mass of onlookers, who cheered at the sight of the attractive young lady.

As was typical, her hands were bound behind her, probably with rope. She whimpered audibly as her eyes fell on his large, wicked looking weapon. She tried to back away, bent double and pushing backward with all her might. It was no use; it never was. She was dragged forward now, and forced to her knees by the much bigger, and much stronger guards. She gave a little cry of pain as she was forced to kneel, and one of the jailers shoved her head down, squishing her neck against the granite block. Her breathing was raspy due to the pressure, and Michael couldn’t help but take pity on her.

He placed a hand on her back, and then nodded at the guards, who let her go and backed away. He knew he shouldn’t do this, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Shhh,” he whispered, just loud enough for his quivering victim to hear. He’d always been told he had a soothing voice. “You’re ok. It’s gonna be ok.” He held her down, but gently, and she offered him no fight or resistance.

“What’s your name?” he asked softly.

The mouse uttered a tiny squeak, which he couldn’t make out. He leaned down closer to her, still holding onto his axe as it stood straight up.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Amy,” she said, her high voice trembling and barely audible.

“Okay, Amy,” he said, sliding his hand up her back and to her neck. “Listen to me. I want you to close your eyes for me. Can you do that?” To encourage her, Michael stroked her from the top of her head down to the base of her neck. It was soft and gentle, but it would allow him to stop her from trying to escape if she so dared. It didn’t seem like she would, for she obediently fluttered her eyelids down while he petted her.

He could feel her ragged and shallow breathing. She was so scared, he wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up peeing herself. Hopefully she’d been allowed to use the bathroom before coming out here. Sometimes the asshole guards didn’t let them. She was shivering so much, she might’ve been mistaken for dying of cold.

“Shhh,” he said again. “I want you to do something else for me, now. I want you to think about your family, your friends. I want you to think about the last time you had fun with them. The last time you felt safe and happy. Picture that scene in your mind. Can you do that for me?”

He felt her nod imperceptivity beneath his loose grip. Good. She was taking his suggestions, and that would make this a whole lot easier.

“Good girl,” he cooed. “It’s going to be ok. Right now you’re there, with your loved ones. There’s nothing else going on.”

Her eyes stayed shut, and he saw them moving a little under their lids. This was going exactly as he’d hoped. Her shivering calmed considerably.

“I’m gonna stop touching you now, Amy,” he said. “I want you to keep thinking of that happy time. You’re going to be ok.”

He let go, and she stayed where she was, on her knees and bent over, her neck stretched out and laying compliantly on the block. As quietly as he could, Michael picked the axe up with both hands. It was critical that she didn’t see or hear this coming. He assumed his stance, allowing him to keep his balance as he raised the weapon above his head.

It stayed there for just a second, hanging in the air, and then he brought it down. He didn’t swing softly, for an incomplete decapitation wouldn’t be kind to her, so he swung it with all his might, aiming just below her skull, where her hair fell to the side and gave him a clear target.

With a resounding WHACK, his axe met the granite block and stuck there. Bullseye. Her severed head fell forward, hitting the wooden platform forehead-first and then rolling to the side. Her body just crumpled, losing its balance and landing on its left side. She was laying out kind-of flat, which was nice. Sometimes they fell in embarrassing poses, but this wasn’t too bad.

Her eyes had shot open when her head hit the ground, and she looked wildly around. Michael left the axe where it stuck in the stone, and picked her head up with both hands. He supported her under either side of her skull, rather than hoisting her up by her hair as so many others did. He looked her in the eye, and she stared back at him in horror and pain. She was already losing consciousness.

“Go to sleep, baby,” he said. “It’s all over. You were a good girl, Amy. Go to sleep.”

In one last act of obedience, the mouse closed her eyes, and he could tell she was gone in a moment. Blood dripped from where her neck used to be, and her mouth hung open limply. Her body, meanwhile, was less at peace. It was busy spraying her blood all over the platform and the block. It twitched, as if not accepting that it was dead. The heart that used to be hers was pounding wildly, but it was losing strength. The jets of blood from her neck stump grew weaker with every pump. He was happy to see she hadn’t relieved herself; he hadn’t wanted her to be embarrassed like that. Eventually her body quieted itself as well, and Michael handed her head to one of the guards, who grasped her by her beautiful hair.

She was their responsibility now, as they were now tasked with burying her body, and placing her head on a spike above her grave, as had become custom for beheaded rebels. Michael, for his part, turned from her and walked down the steps of the platform and back toward the jail. He thought of his own family, and how he could just focus on them, now. It was time to collect his pay, and try to forget what he had just done to earn it.

Prologue

Minsekk gasped as the eleven-year-old girl's lips wrapped around his cock and slid back and forth. His attention, however, was not focused on her. He did not look down at her long white hair or her light blue eyes which were filled with affection. He didn't notice his best friends growing affection, but even if he did, he wouldn't have carried. He was not in the present, he was lost in his mind, he was reliving the events from three days ago.
Minsekk stood amongst the crowd, one of the closest to the gallows. Men and women cheered in excitement for the upcoming execution, and the cheers broking into an approving roar as the naked woman was lead to the noose. She had tan skin and long fiery orange hair. Her figure was curvy with large mature breasts, a firm butt, and purple lines forming a symmetric pattern across her body. The woman did her best to cross her legs, and hide her orange bush, but due to the handcuffs keeping her hands behind her back, she could do nothing to cover her breasts. Her purple eyes surveyed the crowd, but she failed to notice her son who was awaiting her execution not with fear or sadness but confused excitement. It had been thirteen years since Minsekk had came into this world kicking and screaming, and he had discovered his urges a year prior. But why they felt so powerful while he was waiting for his own mother to be hung confused him. In fact, the only two things going through his mind at the time was excitement, yes it wasn't anticipation it was excitement, for his mother's hanging, and curiosity about where his older sister was. That question was answered immediately as the second teary-eyed naked woman was drug onto the gallow by the soldiers. Minsekks mother's eyes went wide as she noticed her daughter. Airdya was three years older than her brother, and despite her immense beauty she had yet to fill out. Her body was thin, her purple patterns more sporadic than her mother's. Her tits were small and perky, and her ass was tiny yet firm. Her hair was neck short, a popular trend amongst girls as of late.
"No!" the mother screamed. "This wasn't the deal you bastards! I surrender, and you leave my family alone! That was the deal!" She exclaimed.
"Mommy help me!" The teen cried, tears streaking down her cheeks. A surprising rush of joy filled Minsekks body. He felt so lucky, he'd get to watch both his mother and sister hang naked! His little prick was stiff, and viable through his trousers to those with a trained eye.
"I'm so sorry sweetheart," his mother said, tears now flowing freely. The executioner, a tall muscular woman, fitted the nooses around her two victims' necks. One of the soldiers unrolled a brown piece of parchment
"Belin, and Airdya Merrindin. You have been found guilty of illegal use of magic. You have been sentenced to be hung by the neck until death" he read.
"Please let my daughter go, I'll do anything" Belin begged.
"Don't let her go. Kill them both" Minsekk said under his breath. It wasn't that he did not love his family, in fact, he loved them very much. Despite this love, or perhaps because of it, he wanted them to both die a terrible death. The executioner lifted Airdays leg by her ankle and ran her tongue across the sole of her foot. It was common knowledge that the soles of those who could use magic all had a unique taste, and if they were molested moments before death, the soul of the woman would be tarnished, and they wouldn't reach the eternal peace after death. They would simply fade into nothingness. Because of this, magicians who were executed had their soles licked as a demonstration.
"Please just let her go" Belin begged as her soul was tarnished. Minsekk felt oddly jealous. The executioner walked over to the lever and pulled it. The trap doors under Minsekks last family fell open, and the two women fell. As Airdyas body came to a sudden stop there was a satisfying snap and her body gave a jump. She spasmed for a second making a few gargling sounds, her tiny feet twitching. Her movements stopped in a few moments, however, and a hot stream of urine ran down her legs. His mother, however, was less lucky. She gagged as the rope caught her, and she kicked her powerful legs out. She spread her toes and gripped at the rope to no avail. She fought for around fifteen minutes before finally losing consensus. Piss squirted from her pussy, and milk leaked from her erect nipples. Five minutes later Belin finally stopped twitching.
Minsekk filled the little girl's mouth with his seed, as the image of his mother and sister hanging naked with glazed-over eyes filled his head. His friend Minni stood with a smile, whipping off the cum that dribbled down from her lips to her chin. A warm feeling rushed through Minsekks body. A feeling of energy and power that was new to him, but deeply enticing. Was this what sex with someone felt like? No. He knew it was something more

So, this is my very-very-very first gorefic, don't hate me, I tried my very best. ._.' And, of course, English is not my main language, and I had a really hard time to translate it, so if there are language errors, tell me my mistakes, and I'm sorry! ^^'
Also, I have dozens of ideas with dozens of feral characters. Well, this show came out recently, sooo, I decided to start with this one. If you will wish, there could be more in the future, maybe a sequel, maybe others, I take request ideas!
Now, enough talking.

For tags: f/m, bestiality, rape, young, torture, hard gore and hard snuff, feral, death
The copyright goes to Dreamworks and Dragons: Rescue Riders (in the How to Train Your Dragon universe)



The Hunter

Either way, it was a successful hunt.
Two beasts at once.

***

As a child I loved dragons. My warchief father told me a lot about the tamed specimens, the riders, the bond. Then my father's ship sank, the waves mercilessly pulled him into the deep… and I was alone with my sister, my mother, and the small farm that was kept together mostly from the corn fields and sheep breeding. We had a small mill, but it hasn't worked for a long time. I used to retreat here with my thoughts… how awesome it would be to ride the clouds on a dragon… freedom… fame… adventures …
…hiding in the shadows of the mill, I couldn't see the two raincutters hitting on our farm. Not that I could have done anything without training and some good viking weapon, but even then, I was stuck in the thought that I was watched over - them.
The dragons were ruthless. They were driven by hunger or rabies, but my picture of dragons, my loving illusion was broken to pieces there and then. The corn was devastated, the lambs were slaughtered, and the farm building was destroyed. One of them ripped off my fleeing mother's head with one single echoing and haunting clench of its jaws, the other one knocked over my seven-year-old sister frozen in panic and gutted her with a long cut.
The whole attack happened so fast… and I stood there, at the door of the mill, paralyzed with fear and inability. What should I have done?! They would have torn me apart in a blink of an eye! I was a coward - but I survived. The two raincutters left, but they destroyed everything… even what they did not eat. Only the ruins were left behind and the bodies bathed in blood.
And my desire for revenge.

***

It all starts with observation. To know the habits, environment, weaknesses and strengths of prey: that's the key to it all.
Huttsgalor's tiny seaside town had five tamed beasts. Tamed… as if it mattered.
Not many vikings lived in the village, and apparently they were not prepared for combat, but I still ruled out direct attack. Five dragons, a few dozen people… the numbers were against me. The observation remained.
The dragons lived in an old tower, not far from the village, with two very young riders. The girl even reminded me a little of my sister, but I couldn't care less in a long time. Without any remorse, I could have cut the throat of the two kids while they were asleep, but there would still be five dragons left, which is a quantity no matter how young they were. I needed some… separation.
The puffy rockspitter promised an easy murder, ignoring all kinds of glory. The blue, muscular swiftwing seemed to be a more exciting challenge: I have to catch him when he is all alone. I had mixed opinions about the little fire fury… she was really tiny, but a fire fury is always a hard opponent. There was also the razorwing, young, small, but because of the blades that cover his body and his expected bullets of thorns, I have to finish him quickly. And finally the fastfin, sleek, agile, flexible… but her water spit is a bad joke, not a ‘danger’ I should be afraid of.
They could defeat me together, but separately… Yes, I needed a chance.

***

I learned a lot about them, the dragons.
Shortly after the… tragedy, I joined an assassin guild. They trained me to kill, I got the tools to kill… but it wasn’t enough for me. Of course, I enjoyed the way life ceases to exist in an instant, and it only required a precise stab from my dear dagger… but I wanted dragon blood.
I had no rest, I had sleepless nights, so after a while my manhunts was supplemented with research, a lot of reading, questions and answers. I learned about the species, their limits, their habitats. Later, I bought dragon carcasses on the black market from the coins I earned, and I dissected them to get to know their anatomy. How they work and how they die the fastest.
Finally he moment has come.
A living, cornered, lone skrill.
The adrenaline rushed to the skies, my heart was trying to jump out of my chest. Excitement, some fear, curiosity. My first dragon. I couldn't know if I'd succeed or die, and my bones stay there, deep in the woods like a sad memento.
The skrill is a dangerous beast, but it fired all of its lightnings and none of them strucked me. And now he was on the ground.
That didn't mean, of course, that he won’t impale me, like a steak, but my concerns have not been proven. He rushed, made a mistake, and I stabbed he in the heart.
That was it. Victory.
Then why didn't I feel victory?
The desire was not gone, the flame continued to burn. I wanted to kill dragons, and I did. At first I executed them quickly, I got some non-fatal cuts, stabbing and burn wounds of course, but I already trusted my abilities and they were never let me down. Soon I was no longer satisfied with only the killing of the dragons. I wanted them to be afraid me, to urinate themselves in fear. I wanted them to hurt. And I enjoyed it. I enjoyed torturing them, humiliating them, and slaughtering them. Every cut, every move came with the promise of slow death. I sliced scales, truncated limbs, and cut out internal organs. I enjoyed it.

***

Two beasts at once.
After four days of patient waiting, shortly before dawn the fastfin and the razorwing left the tower, they descended on the cliffs and disappeared under the cover of the sea rocks.
Of course my shadow followed them. That was the chance, there were only two of them, the others couldn't see or hear them. They were hidden by the shoreline of rocks and their voice was suppressed by the thunder of the waves. They could have screamed. In vain.
Unfortunately, I couldn't afford the luxury of having both of them as my toys. What a pity.
When they both showed their backs to me, when the towering wave hit the cliffs, the hunt began. From my hand-crossbow with a steel wire bolt I shot through the left hind leg of the aquamarine fastfin called Summer, and while she shrieked, I did two things at once. I tucked the end of the wire into the rock wall with the corresponding hooked nail, so the dragon became somewhat immobile… then I charged forward and cut the razorwing’s throat with the twenty centimeters long blade of my curved dagger. While the blood of the absolute deadly deep wound splashed and sprayed on the fastfin and the beach sand, I kneeled into the stomach of Summer who were writhing on her back. She gasped for air, and in the meantime I reloaded the crossbow, and repeating the previous operation on the opposite rock column anchoring her right hind leg I practically stretched her two limbs apart.
If I had any doubts before, the dragon was obviously a female, from her swollen labia and the spiked malehood emerging from his partner's corpse I figured that these two here… wanted to do naughty things. Which I interrupted so maliciously. Again, what a pity. Like the fact that I had to kill the razorwing immediately. Whatever. I can cut him up later.
I quickly turned my thougths back to the prey still alive, after a powerful jet of water hit me on my face. She was still moving too much. I thumped twice into her throat to avoid another wet surprise, then I pulled out a wicked-looking but beautifully glossy harpoon stake from my belt. She continued to struggle more than it was needed, so at first I only hit the sand with my spike, but for the second try I managed to nail her left foreleg to the ground. Another stake, and so did her right foot. She moaned painfully. I didn't care.
I could have put a peck on her mouth, but I wanted to hear her crying as she was suffering. I didn't fear her ridiculous spits of water, and if she would have the appetite to bite, it would not have penetrated my leather armor. She probably figured it out because she didn't attack me anymore. She howled, her eyes were begging, as if she just said: "Please kill me!"
I laughed.
Still riding her belly I turned around, and with a third stake I stopped her flapping tail. Judging by the sound, I also broke a bone this time.
By the way, fracturing bones. I turned back on her again. Although she didn't try to flutter her wings, but grasping one wingbase after another, with a definite twist I broke them to unusable. Summer shrieked again, and under my arse I felt a flood of warm moisture. Oh, yes. She urinated herself in pain.
It reminded me of something. I took a small wood carved object out of my beltpouch, which was more like a cork of a wine bottle, but it was larger than that, and on one side it narrowed first, then suddenly widened. Practical accessory. Without hesitation I plugged it into the dragon's anus. It's not unprecedented that the dragon I'm playing with… makes some mess under itself, and yet it should not be. It’s smelly and disgusting.
I paused for a few moments to admire my own work. A stretched, jerking female dragon, almost a nestling, her greenish-blue back and light beige belly stained with her mate’s fire-red blood. Wonderful. Impressive. I stroked her neck, but she immediately winced at my touch. My fingers slid downward and stopped on her chest. Her heartbeat told me everything. She was afraid. Oh god, how much she was afraid! It was a miracle that the muscle piece under her ribs didn't explode. Summer, meanwhile, stared at me strangely. She whimpered, but in the meantime she found a secret hope in my touch. Maybe I won't hurt her anymore. Maybe she'll survive. Maybe I'm sorry.
Stupid little dragon.
My knife struck at her like a lightning strike, and as accurate as the sting of a scorpion. The blade disappeared under her right eye. What beautiful eyes! Those forest brown irises! And that shock!
Before she could realize what had happened in that hopekiller second, a precise rotation with the blade of the dagger blade, and her eyeball leapt out of her eyehole almost unharmed. Pop! It was hanging on its stalk like a fat spider. And it was barely bleeding.
Summer, however, screamed. I think she realized she wouldn't get away with this. She COULDN’T get away with this! I don't know if she believed her companions would save her, but if the two really descended the cliffs to have sex, they will not come after them, and the shouting will be completely silenced by the waves.
I did not cut off the eyeball that was gouged out, I let it hang, and I left the other eye without any damage. She still had to see what games I will play with her!
She bit me, but as I expected, her teeth did not penetrate the leather. I cut her face and she cooled back.
I put my hand on her chest again and wandered further down. Her belly. I could feel all the whiffle, the buzz of the beautiful anatomy hidden under her scales. Soon everything inside will see sunlight. Patience. Soon. I proceeded further. Now I was between her two spreaded hind legs. Her genitals. As many lizardkins, there are so many variations: hers was a bit of a transition between a cloaca and a vagina. Her anus was separate, lower, and her labia shaped an inverted T-letter.
Her remaining eye were filled with dread, as well as curiosity. She could not have a faint guess of when or what I was planning. That's what made it so beautiful. The randomness. The unknown.
After all, why not?
This would not have been the first time (and probably not the last), when I rape a dragon. If her size and capabilities are right, if the situation allows it to me… then why not?
I unbraced my belt. I think she understood what was coming and she didn't like it. She began to squirm again, vigorously, but the stakes and the wires held on, and she only bleed her own wounds out even more. Useless. I went in.
They always make such a strange, but cute sound. I don't think they enjoy it, even by instinct, but sex is sex. She made painful moans and less painful ones, maybe for a while Summer was even at peace, after all, in those few moments I didn't cut her, didn't mangled her. It may have been humiliating to her, but then it’s even better. Bitch.
Did I enjoy it? Yes, but mostly because of pure dominance. Of course, again, sex is sex, and it was pleasantly warm inside with scales soft enough, but the point is, I was in control of the moment. And she knew that too. Whether punching, stabbing or rape, it was up to me that she was still breathing. And I enjoyed this.
After I finished, with another flurry she let me that know she knew: from here it will only get worse. She barely made a sound, but she cried. Perfect. She gave up.
I didn't made her wait much, she got some quick test-thrusts at non-essential points, to make me feel: how much resistance my dagger can expect. The answer is always the same. Not much. I stabbed her in the left front paw, in the left rear thigh, in her tail at two points… and in some insignificant places. She jerked at each sting, sometimes whimpering, but kept herself pretty well. Or did she just run out of voice?
I found a stronger grip on my dagger, and where I stroked Summer's fragile body with the palm of my hand before, now I scratched her with the cold tip of steel, from neck to genital, swinging slightly left and right, but not deep enough to stimulate blood.
I looked her in the eye again. In that one. She begged. I do not know why. For mercy? For a quick death? Come on!
The point of the dagger slid back into her chest, looking for the point between her sternum and her two lowest ribs, and then it stopped.
I've already cut a dragon in half with a huge battle axe. I've dragged a dragon through a spear's tip. I've broken a dragon's every bone with a hammer. But for the gods, there is no sweeter game than gutting a dragon alive!
I put a little pressure on the dagger and the tip disappeared between the scales. Another catch on the knife handle, and thanks to the hungry edge of the curved blade, I pulled it down almost unhindered, all the way across her belly, to her hips, and then I took out the weapon. A long, vertical red line slowly formed on the dragon's body. At the bottom of the cut, I made two more incisions, one to each thighs, then I grabbed both edges of the huge wound on her belly and opened it like a small tent entrance.
I was happy. Probably my prey was less, but it's not that interesting. I managed to cut Summer's abdominal muscles so precisely that the sack of the viscera remained intact. Only a few blood left the wound, behind the thin membrane, behind the web of capillaries her internal organs were pulsating, were rippling, were LIVING! An indescribable sight. Beautiful. Simply beautiful. It's almost a sin to ruin it. Almost.
Summer seemed to suffer a lot. She scraped the sand as far as she could, trembling, she stretched her neck farther as it could pull her out of her hopeless situation. I did not understand. Instead of accepting the beauty of the moment.
Actually, the rest was just good butcher work. I have autopsied enough to know which is for what, what can widen the agony, what can prolong the death struggle. Because she will die. I want her to die. I want to feel the life leaving her disclosed body as her tortured soul comes out of it.
I gently patted the visceral sack like a smart pet, and then I opened it with another straight cut of my dagger, and I started pulling her guts out like some badly bunded eels. Eels. Funny metaphor. Dragons are afraid of eels. As they are afraid of me. After her small intestines were out and spreaded on the sand, I grabbed her colon and pulled it until her rectum and her anus let it. I didn't cut it out, I didn't want to contaminate my toy, my artwork with any excrement. Her sand-stained, several meters long pretty pink guts had now left her body, her abdominal cavity, their original location. I went astray with the idea of releasing the dragon's forelegs so I can watch with guilty pleasure, as she desperately tries to sweep her bowels back into her tummy, but they run spill of her paws again and again… The thinking was satisfying enough for me.
I continued the work. Her stomach was the next. Because of my curious nature, if I can, I like to cut open my prey’s stomach, so I can see what they had for last lunch. Innocent curiosity, nothing more. So I took my dagger again, and I stabbed it deep in the thick wall of the dragon's stomach above the duodenum. Her stomach showed a little more resistance than her abdomen, but some slicing moves, and in the midst of various juices, four half-digested fish came out of it, and… the remnants of a slice of cake? A strange diet, at least for a dragon.
I looked at Summer's face again. Her tongue hung out, her eye began to turn inside, but she was still panting firmly. Good. I like when the toy lives longer. She was probably not quite here anymore, for reality she was beginning to become elusive. I snapped one in front of her eye. She responded and stared at me.
It was time for some creativity. As long as I could. With a simple move I cut out her liver. She grimaced. She felt it even if she was numb. Perfect.
"I know you hear me and you understand me, so it would be really nice to give me some attention!"
It was the first time I had spoken to her. I don't really communicate with my prey, but now I needed it for the… play.
"Do you want to finally die?"
It was needless to ask. At this point she was clinging to nothing but nothing. She nodded so I held her own liver in front of his mouth.
"Then eat this!"
I don't think she could decide if I was kidding. No reaction. I shook the organ in front of her eye.
"I'm serious. If you eat your liver, I'll end it all."
I was serious. I didn't felt sorry for her, but she didn't have much left anyway. At least let's have some fun at the end.
She lifted her tongue weakly and touched the offered delicacy. Her whole body shook, if she had been biologically capable for it she would have probably vomited. Carefully, she took it in her teeth, as if she were worried, as if it mattered, and then she removed it in her mouth. A few chewing motions, then a hard swallow, and… she ate her own liver! Brilliant! What it is if it's not the best closing chord?!
I looked at my work one last time. Amazing artwork! Perfect play! Her dying body is stretched apart, her right eye is sticking out and shaking, as she breathes for the very last times… Her wings are twisted, remains of on her cloaca, her belly is cut open in full length, her intestines are poured lazily to the left of her gaping cavity, her stomach is mutilated… I leaned close to her, kissed her face, while I pulled off my glove from my right hand. With my free tactile fingers I reached up between her remaining organs, and above her slow-working lung lobes I pinched my fingers around the intensely pounding little heart.
“Goodbye. And fuck you.”
I ripped it out.
And Summer was no more.
I took the piece of meat out that was pumping life in her not too long ago. The life I took away. It was a good feeling.
I enjoyed it.
I put her heart in my pouch. General souvenir, most of the time I bring the heart as a trophy. Preserved in grog it is good for a long time.
Revenge? Slowly I forget why I seek so much revenge. Memories fade. The desire remains.
Three hundred and twenty-six.
I turned to the corpse of the razorwing, grabbing the handle of my knife again.
Three hundred and twenty-seven.

Anyone heard from Squunch, Loke or SadisticPleasures lately? Not seen anything from them in a while.

I´ve found a good story. It was published in Yahoo/debreast


Part 1. M/S Topless


Jana couldn't believe how excited she was. Just yesterday at her birthday party her friends had revealed her that they had booked a luxorious cruise aboard the M/S Topless for four and they were leaving the very next day. Being the teenagers they were, there was no question about their intentions of heavy partying and general foolishness. Jana was expecting quite the weekend filled with alcohol, sunshine, beautiful women and endless dancing.

This was to be Jana's first time aboard the famous party ships that they had so many times adored at the city harbour while wondering why all the cruises had age restrictions and wouldn't allow anyone under 18 aboard. Afterall this was a very liberal society based on the views of their ancestors one and a half centuries ago. They had shaped the entire world according to their beliefs and preferrences. This is why Risa Nine was one of the most liberal colonies in the Federation. Very few regulations and directives applied here. The entire world was dedicated to fulfilling desires and lust. The terraforming of the land had been planned so that the entire world was basically one huge white sand beach.

Jana's friends were all older than her. Krissy was 19 already and had definetly been to many cruises, but never really revealed anything to Jana about the parties she had had. Erica had also just turned 19 last month and she too must have had her share of off-shore fun. Keeley was just three months older than Jana and this was to be her first cruise too.

To Jana the ship ahead of them looked almost unreal, it was so massive. Hovering forty feet above the ocean waves was the M/S Topless, a full mile long luxury ship, filled with bars, nightclubs, restaurants, gamehalls, swimming pools and spas. The massive craft even had it's own sand beach on the top level, and beneath it one hundred and sixy floors of entertainment still shrouded in mystery, just waiting to be explored by Jana and her friends.

Jana was well aware that this cruise would also be very sexual in nature. She had been very intimate with her three best friends since their childhood and they were openly lesbians, just like almost every other female on this planet they called home. This was the social structure of Risa Nine and had been so since the first founding mothers arrived with their technology that gave them the ability to shape the landscape, control the weather and reproduce through genetic cloning.

Jana's mothers had produced her as a brunette, just like Krissy. Basically they were clones of their mothers, with slight genetic improvements, that their mothers had chosen for them. Extremely feminine bodies were the only way to go in Risa Nine. Jana, just like her friends sported a massive set of natural - well, as natural as genetic manipulation foes - set of perfectly shaped breasts, very slim body with fine muscles and the face of a goddess. Jana had a pair of double gees tipped with pale pinkish nipples. Her friend Erica's mother had been slightly less ambitious and so Erica carried a pair of F cups to go with her golden hair. Krissy had double gees like Jana, but with slightly darker nipples. Krissy also always wore a pair of glasses even though it was merely a fashion statement, since there was no way she could have been born with bad eyes and even if she had, they could have been fixed in just a moment by a simple genetic reconfiguration at the local mall. Keeley was the one of them that was always drawing attention with her looks. She had a striking purple hair and her mothers had chosen her to carry an astonishing set of KK -sized breasts that were tipped with the most inviting puffy pink nipples.

The air taxi would soon be at the enterance of the M/S Topless and it would be time for the teenage friends to join the festivities among the other over nine thousand hot bodies.
Part 2. Boobs



"Passangers, please enter the registration area and follow the blue line on the floor."
The female announcer's voice made Jana feel even more excited. This was it. It felt like she had been waiting for years.
"Now, as you enter M/S Topless, please, remove all clothing above waist line. "
This came as no surprise to the girls, as they had already followed Krissy's example by taking their tops off at the air taxi. Actually toplessness was not at all uncommon on Risa Nine, much the opposite. Afterall there was no real need to wear clothes to keep you warm when summer never ends and even at night the temperature remains rather warm.

"After you have displayed your tickets and gotten your stamps at the registration table, you are free to enter our main entertainment deck. Have fun."

As the announcer had finished her instructions Jana noticed there were only two people before them in the line - a couple in their twenties both strikingly beautiful brunettes wearing only white jean skirts. Jana gave Keeley a friendly slap on the bottom "Lets get this party started, hey!" Keeley responded with laughter and by shaking her ass as if it was continuing to bounce because of the slap. Keeley took her payback by slapping Janas left boob from beneath rather forcefully. "Hey, you'll get your chance to play with those later in privacy!" Jana responded.

"Tickets please." Chirped the petite brunette behind the counter. Krissy showed her their tickets, and then proceeded to bend over the counter, resting her ample bosom on the wooden surface. Then she received a stamp on both of her tits, just above her light brown nipples. The small stamps were the shapes of two pink hearts. For some reason this made Jana giggle and she followed her friends example soon after.

"Alright girls, lets get moving. So much to see. Our luggage will be taken to the suite from here so we might as well get to business. What should we do first?" Krissy was quick to take the lead, as she was clearly the most experienced cruise tourist of the four. "I really wouldn't mind a drink, all the queuing has made me very thirsty. I know a nice place to get you guys to the mood." They all agreed they could use a drink and Krissy led the way.

As they headed towards their destination, Jana became well aware of all the breasts around her. No matter where she looked, there were topless women displaying their heaving chests and most of the stores and restaurants had referrences to breasts in their names. She was in heaven. She had always been very fond of breasts. She loved fondling breasts and having her own breasts fondled. She could even describe herself as a boobfanatic. It was not unusual for her to use one of her friends' breasts as a pillow when they were sleeping at each others places.

Jana had missed the fact that they had arrived at the restaurant that Krissy had in mind for their refreshments. She was looking at the sign above the doorway. "Milkshake Jugs" was what the sign said. Once again Jana was giggling. Krissy yanked her inside. There, before them was the counter, filled with icecream vats and and all sorts of sweets. None of these got the girls attention. Their eyes were locked on the wall behind the counter and the seven pairs of massive breasts sticking out of the wall. All fourteen basketball sized mounds were attached into clear tubes in which flowed a constant stream of white creamy milk. "Wow" was all Jana could say. Keeley gasped and almost screamed "I LOVE this place! Amazing, those are real? There are actual women behind that wall? Being milked? Wow! Never knew it before but this might well be a fetish of mine."

Krissy smiled, as she knew the two were new to all of this. She also knew that the girls on the other side of the wall were very real and very much volunteered to be there. Afterall, she had been milked in this very same restaurant four months ago with Erica. "Yep, very much actual and very much enjoying it, my friend. Just takes one pill to make a girl produce milk for three hours straight. I produced nearly thirteen litres. Erica only managed ten. They say their injection can make it almost permanent." Krissy watched as the two youngest of them stared mouths open and in a loss of words.

"Freakishly hot. I really want to try that." Jana had regained her ability to speak. "Me too! I can easily beat thirteen litres in three hours!" Kelly joined in. "Hold your horses, my lovely little wannabe cowgirls. Lets sample some freshly squeezed girl milk first. We have the entire weekend ahead of us. Besides there will be this cruise opening seremony at the main beach in just two hours. We really don't want to miss that one."

"Alright then, lets have those milkshakes, shall we. Four Lactashakes - the house special flavour, please." Erica made the order as the redhaired beauty behind the counter lined four large mugs below the taps in the milkshake machine. Jana noted that the mugs had a very specific shape, and it was that of a downward pointing breast. Once again there was a faint giggle.

"What is the 'house special flavour' exactly?" asked Keeley. Erica was very quick to reply "Vodka - plentiful". After the first sip, the girls could only produce moans and sighs of approval. The creamy, foamy texture accompanied with just the perfect sweetness had them hooked.

Meanwhile Jana had noticed on the counter half a dozen of what looked like jars full of pills. She was quick to ask the sales girl if these were the ones that made a girl turn on her milk production. Quick nod and the sale was done. She knew these would prove to be a source of fun back home.

The shakes were soon downed and the girls stepped out of the store after one last time admiring the row of boobs being milked slowly bouncing as the machine sucked their nipples and then let the pressure fade only to begin again.

"Now what say we get something solid to eat before heading on the beach. Something fatty and filling, maybe even fried? We know the perfect place, Erica and I, don't we? My treat this time, hahaha." Krissy kept laughing, to what Jana and Keeley did not understand. Erica also giggled and reached around Krissy to squeeze her boobs playfully. Jana's attention had already been diverted as her eyes examined a shop window displaying jewelery, clearly designed to be worn on nipples and a rather peculiar piece of machinery, that she could not understand the purpouse of. The device was being displayed under spotlights with a sign above it "Year 3077 is here". The device looked to her like like a foot long cylinder that had curvy blades extending outwards from its bottom end. Whatever it was, she had already fallen slightly behind from her friends and had to keep moving to catch them. Krissy's promise to treat them to a snack sounded very inviting to Jana. She was starving.

$200,000,000,000.

That's how much money in USD is evaded from tax every year.

Where is this money?

A recent leak titled, The Panama Papers exposed where a majority of this money was being laundered.

The 2.7TB of leaked information lead the source of the majority of money laundering operations to an unknown location.

But new intel suggests that this unknown location which harbors the primary source of the money laundering operations, is in the British Virgin Islands. Inside the Bermuda Triangle.

Years of dedicated research has narrowed the exact location to an unmarked island.

You will not find this island on any map. This island is hidden to the public and there are no reported flights or dockings to this island.

Investigation of this island has proved that there is human activity on this island. And satellite imaging is distorted in all areas of the island.

Although not reported. Imaging from high altitude drones have shown boats and planes entering and leaving the island.

Upon tracking the boats and planes. There is a confirmed location where ships and planes leave.

Internal investigation of the British Virgin Islands major ports and manufacturers for boats and planes has lead to a large human trafficing circle.

The investigation has linked thousands of young girls that have been reported missing to this circle of trafficing.

I have been hired and trained to infiltrate the port that is confirmed to export the young girls to this unknown island.

The primary goal is not the human trafficing or the young girls. The objective is to dissolve all major money laundering operations to eliminate the 200 billion dollars in tax evasion.

After many iterations of development of a infiltration procedure. A plan has been set.

A group of men will integrate with the human trafficing circle by any means necessary. These men will participate in any activities of the trafficing circle.

And to have as many undercover investigators as possible. We have trained a group of underage girls to willingly be captured by our undercover human traffickers.

The girls aged 10 to 16 are trained and conditioned to endure rape and participate in any staged rape or molestation by the undercover traffickers.

These girls are mostly involved to aid the infiltration of the men and are fully expendable. They have been selected from immigration camps and orphanages or homeless shelters.

All attempts will be recorded to identify possible improvements and faults in the procedure.

Reposting "Futility" by the author of the Land of the Rising Sun (they didn't have a name, did they?) as per request here >>19174

***

A single message, that's all it was, and yet the recipient, now sat against the fridge in her apartment, about to finish up her 10th can of beer.

"idiot," Misato muttered, with bloodshot eyes, chugging down the contents of her beer can.

She thought she got over him, that she was past these feelings. Rather, that's what she wanted herself to believe. Repeat a lie enough, and it becomes the truth, though it would seem, sadly, in her case, her own feelings betrayed her. Kaji's last message tore open a chasm in her heart and mind, one she never knew existed, one she tried to mask with alcohol.

She looked to her phone again. Asuka was still in school, right? Misato had completely lost track of time, not that it mattered much anyway. With what she and Kaji had dug up, there really was no point in any of what they were doing, with their death being inevitable, whether it was through instrumentality, or the result of a battle with an angel, whichever side won, humanity, or at least what she perceived to be humanity, would lose.

She grasped her phone. 12:07 P.M. Has it really been 3 hours? She stumbled through the contacts list, somehow refraining from calling Asuka directly despite being completely smashed, and instead choosing to call the school.



Asuka quietly worked on a maths problem set her teacher. She was close to finishing it when the classroom door opened. There stood the one of the schools administrative staff.

"Miss Sohryu, could you come with me to the principals office?" The young man said, with a calm, distant expression, seemingly ignorant about interrupting the class.

Asuka quietly stood up, however the man interjected.

"Could you bring your belongings as well please? You may need to return home," He said.

She sighed. Misato probably drunk-dialed the school, or was suffering from a really bad hangover. She grabbed her things and walked out, escorted by the man to the principals office. The administrative clerk opened the door for her, letting her in, before going off to continue doing whatever it was his job entailed.

"Good afternoon, miss Sohryu," The principal said, "Your guardian, Major Katsuragi has called us, saying that there is an emergency. She would not divulge any further details."

"If it's an emergency, why haven't Rei and Shinji been called back as well? She's probably just drunk again. Wouldn't be the first time, though she usually has enough self control to wait until the evening," Asuka said, clearly annoyed at the development.

"Miss Sohryu, as I said, I don't know what this 'emergency' is, however she truly did sound as if something terrible had happened and-"

"Like her forgetting that it's Monday, waking up late and drinking a six-pack," Asuka said, cutting off the principal, who seemed to be used to it by now.

They said their farewells, as Asuka briskly walked off, on towards her and Misato's shared apartment.



Unsurprisingly, her plan of drowning her sorrows in alcohol had failed. Miserably. She was bawling, like a toddler who's favorite plush toy was torn from their grip, and ripped to shreds as they watched helplessly. Pen Pen, in his infinite wisdom, chose to ignore the drunk, depressed Misato, and opted to take a bubble bath while things blew over, taking one of the last two beers left.

The crying got quieter, as Misato eventually passed out. She was out cold when Asuka let herself in, and as she expected, she found a drunk Misato, passed out against the fridge, 10 empty beer cans in her immediate vicinity.

"How the hell did this drunkard manage to get the rank of Major is beyond me. I can't believe Kaji dated this, thing," She mumbled to herself, as she walked over to Misato.

Asuka walked up to Misato, looking down on her. She noticed something off, Misato looked like she was crying. The area around her eyes visibly moist, as were her cheeks. Asuka, now confused, tried to wake her up. Shaking her didn't work, and neither did slapping. So she did what any sane person would do when waking up someone who passed out. She poured cold water into a jug, filled it with ice, and poured it over Misato's head.

Misato screamed. The freezing cold brought her back from her alcohol induced stupor.

"The hell were you crying about?" Asuka asked, not even waiting for Misato to get a grasp of her surroundings.

Misato looked up, staring blankly at Asuka. She tried to say it, but couldn't find the words. She had to say it. Asuka deserved to know.

"Kaji is dead," Misato murmured.

Silence. Absolute silence. Asuka's eyes appeared to glaze over, as she stood over Misato, frozen. The bathroom door creaking open broke the silence, as Pen Pen walked into the kitchen, wrapped in a towel. A single glance at the somber situation was enough to send him back into the bathroom for an extended bubble bath.

"You're lying," Asuka whispered.

She fell to her knees in front of Misato, who grabbed the last can of beer, as she quickly chugged down the contents.

"It's your fault. You shitty drunken bitch, it's your fault he's dead," Asuka mumbled, trembling, from sorrow and rage, "Your idiotic investigation got him killed didn't it? Worthless. Worse than that idiot Shinji."

Misato sat in silence, listening. Asuka was, at least partially, correct. Their investigation of NERV's secrets no doubt led to him being killed, though it wasn't her interest alone that caused it, though had she thought things through, maybe it would have been better not knowing. Not supporting his actions may have gotten him to stop. It may have saved his life. Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Kill yourself," Asuka said coldy, "Waste of oxygen, just go die."

Misato stood up, walked over to a kitchen counter, and leaned against it. A large kitchen knife caught her eye. She reached over for it, grasping it firmly with her right hand. Maybe Asuka was right. Maybe it would be easier for her to end it all here and now, after all, regardless of the outcome of their battles, death is inevitable. Maybe getting it out of the way now, would spare her the trouble of doing it later.

Asuka curled up, sobbing. The one man whom she truly respected, and loved, was gone. What was there for her in this world? What was the point of fighting on?

Misato, still leaning against the counter, looked down. Her wet, yellow crop top was almost see-through now. She didn't feel that cold either, surely a side-effect of the alcohol, and likely not to last long. She looked further down, at her slightly pudgy belly. Unsurprising that it was slightly bloated, what with 11 beers down the hatch. How she didn't piss herself, or puke was beyond her.

"Worthless drunkard," Misato mumbled to herself, patting her exposed belly, as she brought the kitchen knife to her left hip.

"Waste of oxygen," She said, louder this time, as she began to push the knife in, still leaning over the counter.

She felt pressure building up against her belly, her skin. The knife's tip was somewhat blunt, but small enough to start breaking her skin with the pressure she was exerting. It didn't take long for her skin to give way, as the knife slid into the soft, loose muscle and fat of her belly. She felt the wound expand as she pushed the knife further in. The pain slowly building, as the knife was now embedded just above and to the right of her left hip.

"I'm sorry, Kaji. Asuka," She whispered.

With a low grunt, she began to pull the knife across her lower belly. The pain began to build up, and the dull kitchen knife did little to help. Though oddly enough, she found it bearable, almost liberating. She never thought she would see the day where she'd commit suicide, in particular, a slow, painful one such as this, and yet there was not a single doubt in her mind that her actions now, were the only way out. The only way to atone for Kaji's death, for Asuka's grief, and perhaps most importantly to her, to have the freedom to choose when, and how she died.

There was now a clear, red gash on Misato's slightly bloated belly, the flesh looked more torn that cut. She leaned over the counter slightly, keeping herself upright with her left hand. The cut half-way done, with the knife sitting an inch below her oval innie, she finally let go. She couldn't find the strength to cut further. She pulled the knife out, and dropped it on the floor. The loud clang getting a crestfallen Asuka's attention.

Asuka looked up, quickly realizing that Misato had actually taken her seriously. She really did try to kill herself. She was bleeding profusely. Yet she felt nothing. Misato trundled over to her, dropping to her knees infront of her, very clearly in pain, and yet she still felt nothing.

"Asuka, help me," Misato begged with a pained voice, "Help me finish the cut."

Asuka stared blankly at Misato. She didn't want her to die, she could easily end all of this by calling an ambulance. Misato didn't cut too deep by the looks of it, a few stitches, and maybe a transfusion would be all that was necessary to get her patched up.

"Yeah, I'll call an ambulance, this is insane. This whole situation is insane, idiotic even," Asuka thought.

She stood up, and looked to the knife. She slowly walked over to pick it up, paying no attention to the very distressed wounded Misato, and grabbed it with her right hand.

"It won't take long for an ambulance to get here, they'll probably come even faster when I tell them who was injured, and who's requesting it, so everything's going to be fine," Asuka thought, oblivious to even her own actions, as if in a trance.

She walked back, took a seat right behind Misato, allowing Misato to lean back, and rest against her chest. Asuka grabbed Misato's top, and pulled it up, baring the wounded woman's midsection. She brought the knife back to the edge of the wound, sliding it back in. Misato let out a low grunt, the feeling of the steel scraping against her torn flesh sending torrents of pain through her body. Asuka began dragging the knife, slowly tearing open the rest of Misato's tummy, as her eyes stared blankly at the wound she was now expanding.

"F-fuck," Misato stuttered, "Just finish the cut already…"

Her plea fell on deaf ears. A strange pressure started building up in her belly, as she saw the first strand of entrails peek out from the gushing cut. The knife was almost at her right hip, it wouldn't take long now. Just a little more cutting and she would be free, from all the pain, suffering, and guilt. Asuka suddenly twisted the knife, and jerked it up towards Misato's chest, before striking a rib. Misato tried to scream, but found herself puking instead. She threw up a good deal of the beer she chugged down earlier, all over her belly. The blood, now mixing with the acid and alcohol made her feel as if her wounds were set alight. She let out a blood curdling scream as she began to thrash around.

Asuka finally snapped out of her trance. She had no recollection of what she had done. Her memories got muddled at Misato asking her for help. She knew Misato couldn't have done this by herself. She killed her. Her guardian. Her rival in love. She let go of the knife, and hugged Misato tightly.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Asuka whimpered, "I'm sorry…"

Misato eventually went still. The pain, combined with the massive blood loss, made her pass out. She was to be not long for this world. For the first time today, tears streamed down Asuka's cheeks. She hugged Misato tightly, and sobbed.

There was a knock on the door, as it slowly opened.

"I'm home," Shinji said.

***

"Is there no one inside?" Rei asked.

"I guess not. Strange, I remember locking the door after I -" Shinji said.

He was cut off by an odd sight in the corner of his eye. A dark red liquid slowly spreading from the kitchen. Confused, he quietly set his schoolbag aside, and slowly headed towards the kitchen, making as little noise as possible. He heard sobbing, bawling, to be precise. How did he not hear it when he entered? He darted around the corner, seemingly forgetting about the dark red fluid, as he slipped, hitting his head on the floor, and hard. Everything went silent, and black, as he fainted from the shock.

Rei, confused at first, now rushed to his assistance, not sure whether the blood pooled around him was his or not. Upon reaching him, she was greeted by a grotesque sight. A disemboweled misato, a a bloody Asuka, and an unconscious Shinji. It would have been quite a sensory overload for any person, except Rei. She calmly knelt down to check Shinji's pulse, ignoring the very distressed Asuka, and Misato's corpse. As expected from a relatively minor fall, he would live. He'd have a massive headache and most likely a concussion, but he'd live. With that out of the way, she turned to Asuka.

"What happened?" Rei asked calmly, monotonously even.

Asuka, still holding Misato, stared at Rei blankly. Tears pouring down her cheeks.

"I killed her, I murdered her." Asuka mumbled.

"I… can see that." Rei replied, confused as to why Asuka was stating the obvious. The knife was right next to Asuka's hands after all.

"Why did you murder her?"

"I don't know, I just acted, she told me to, and I didn't realize what I was doing, and Kaji is dead, and now Misato - " Asuka mumbled, but cut herself off.

Asuka let Misato go, as her corpse flopped to the floor, as she darted to get Misato's phone. It wasn't far away, and as she got hold of it, she frantically searched through Misato's messages, trying to find something, anything from Kaji. Maybe he sent something before he died. Maybe Misato's investigation actually paid off; and, as she searched, she found it. Reading the message once over, her sense of guilt over her actions, vanished. If what Kaji said was true, there was no point to fighting back. They'd either die, or 'die', from what she understood.

"So then that's why she chose to go out like that." Asuka mumbled to herself, as she looked back at Misato.

She remembered learning about Japanese history in school, and about the ritual suicide reserved for the samurai and daimyo, and others of similar class. Seppuku. Though, from what she remembered, it was for men only. She looked at Shinji.

"Rei, read this." She said as she tossed Misato's phone to Rei, who deftly caught the poorly aimed projectile.

Rei read the message, thrice over, to fully decipher what it meant, to be able to interpret it for Shinji once he wakes up, and perhaps to pick up on anything Asuka missed.

"I understand. What will you do now Asuka? Follow Misato, or keep fighting?" Rei asked.

Asuka walked over to the knife, and grabbed it. She looked at Shinji again.

"Do you think he'd want to commit seppuku?" Asuka replied.

Immediately understanding her intentions, Rei replied, "No. He's not fond of pain."

"Too bad, wake him up, I'm not going to die before him and let him do perverted shit to my corpse."

Asuka moved towards Shinji, tearing his shirt open, sending a few buttons flying, as she bared his midsection. Rei, on the other hand, stripped off her skirt and panties, as she sat down on his chest. Perhaps a sexual reward of sorts would ease his pain? A sharp slap from Rei, coupled with a strange, cold sensation on his belly, managed to wake him up.

"Rei!? What are you doing? Is this blood? Who's touching me down th-" Shinji stammered, rather briskly cut off by Rei planting her clit on his mouth.

"Asuka is going to disembowel you~ Ahn," Rei was abruptly cut off Shinji's tongue, as it went through her other lips.

Looks like he wasn't going to mind being gutted much, or perhaps he didn't hear her properly. The latter was more likely given that he was probably suffering from a concussion, and was rather suddenly awoken by a butt-naked Rei, who's vagina, is now on his face.

Asuka meanwhile, noticed a growing bulge in his pants. Despite it being Shinji's bulge, she couldn't help but feel 'slightly' sorry for him, after all, she was about to gut him, so she helped free his pulsing cock. After giving it a second glance, she gave up. It wasn't as large as it looked under his trousers, sadly. Her gaze turned back to his midsection.

"I'm going to start now, alright?" She said.

Getting no reply, save for Rei's occasional moaning, she placed the tip of the knife into his shallow, round belly button. Grabbing the knife with both hands, she gave it a solid thrust, as she first felt resistance, then, nothing. A muffled scream, and a loud moan from Rei followed. He tried to move, but with both girls holding him down, Shinji was done for. Letting him settle down a bit, she tried to pull the knife downwards, towards his groin, but found that his navel proved quite tough to cut through. She pulled harder, as his belly distended somewhat.

"Fucking hell, it won't, cut." Asuka grumbled.

She began to twist the blade, trying to carve away at the scar tissue blocking her path; while inadvertently stirring, and blending his intestines in the process. It eventually worked, as after a strong tug, and a satisfying 'pop', the scar tissue gave way, and the knife tore downwards with little resistance. At the moment his navel gave way to the blade, his cock pulsed, squirting his fluids onto a bewildered, and now disgusted Asuka.

"Oh what the fuck! Disgusting! Who get's off to being disemboweled, you sick fuck!" She screamed, getting off of him, and rushing to the kitchen sink, to wash her face.

Shinji meanwhile, was in quite a dilemma. He loved the fact that Rei let him eat her out, but hated that his guts were now pushing out of his new expanded belly button. He also hated that he somehow managed to get off to him being stabbed, and gutted, rather than eating Rei out. Then, it all turned bad. Rei got off, as she turned to get the knife.

"Wait, Rei." He mumbled weakly.

Rei, now holding the knife, moved down, to his crotch, slowly mounting his erect member, as she began to gently move her hips. A warm fluid ran down his shaft. Her virgin blood. At the very least, he wouldn't die a sad, depressed virgin. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless. He finally resigned himself to his fate, as painful as it may be.

"Oh, lovely. You're having sex, in a pool of blood and guts. Amazing." Asuka muttered.

She grabbed the knife from Rei, and knelt down next to Shinji's brutalized belly.

"This'll hurt." She said, ramming the knife back into his navel, only cutting upwards this time.

Shinji let out a pained grunt. He didn't have the energy, nor blood, left to scream. He felt as his midriff was slowly being sliced open, how the knife tore through it. It wasn't a sharp knife, that was painfully obvious, and yet he still didn't scream. Having sex with Rei, somehow ended up being the ultimate painkiller. Having Asuka use the knife to then scoop out his intestines, didn't bother him. He unleashed yet another load, straight into a quiet, slightly flustered Rei.

"Now, finish him quickly" Rei muttered. The rush from releasing inside her would mask the pain, though she wasn't in the position to explain things in great detail, given her current disposition.

Luckily, Asuka understood. She pulled the knife out of his now empty stomach cavity, and slammed it into his chest, giving it a sharp twist, before pulling it out. Shinji spasm'd violently, coughed, and went still. Asuka set the knife aside, as she stood up, looking at what she had done. A massive red gash, 3 inches from his cock, up to his sternum, now emptied. A pile of pinkish-red entrails, sloppily piled to his right side, and, a bubbling wound on his chest. Quite the mess.

Rei got off Shinji, staggering slightly as she straightened out.

"I recommend you commit seppuku next, so I may be your second." Rei stated calmly.

Startled as to how calm Rei was, Asuka tried her best to reply, "If you insist. Just, leave me be until I ask for you to finish it."

Rei nodded, as Asuka went to the bathroom. Confused, Rei followed. Her confusion would not end there, as Asuka then decided it would be a great time to have a shower. Clean herself off, if you will. A good 30 minutes later, a squeaky clean Asuka emerged.

"Was this really necessary?" Rei asked.

"Before seppuku, one should cleanse both body and spirit."

The reply was calm and collected. Perhaps this was her way to prepare for departure. The naked Asuka put on a bathrobe, as she told Rei to fetch a clean, sharper knife. With Rei gone, she set down a white towel on the floor, placing a large, folded red towel to one end, and in the center, a small hand towel. She tried her best to mimic what a proper seppuku ritual would look like.

When Rei returned, she found Asuka sitting seiza, eyes closed, as she mentally prepared for the task at hand.

"This is the sharpest one I could find. I cleaned it beforehand as well." Rei said, handing a smaller, razor-sharp knife to Asuka.

Asuka took the knife by the handle, before grabbing a roll of toilet paper by her side. She wrapped the blade in toilet paper, enough to leave just enough of the blades edge to cut through her muscle and fat, but not enough to harm her entrails, before placing the wrapped knife on the small central towel, and returning to her meditation.

A long, silent minute passed.

"Let's begin." Asuka exclaimed.

***

While her outer appearance was calm, collected, peaceful even, her mind was racing. She was going to die here. The thought of it sickened her, yet, she did not falter. She could not. She had to do this, perhaps not in the way she was currently about to, after all, a single cut to the jugular would suffice. Perhaps slitting her wrists even? No. She wasn't going to back down. If Misato could do it, and even that idiot Shinji, though with her and Rei's assistance, why couldn't she? Yes, the pain would be unbearable, but the thought of carrying on after what she had heard, witnessed, and done, left her livid. Perhaps, laying down her life in this manner would be a form of atonement, for even considering suicide in the first place, for taking another's life, and, for forsaking this world, and all who dwell in it.

With her thoughts settled, Asuka opened her eyes, slowly turning towards Rei, "I won't need a second. Just watch or something."

Rei nodded, as she set aside a rather menacing meat-cleaver. Giving it a second look, Asuka was sure she made the right choice. How on earth was she going to kill her quickly with one of those? An even better question, would be where she got that meat cleaver, as Asuka couldn't remember owning one. Perhaps she brought one with her?

Clearing her throat, Asuka stopped delaying. The longer she waited, the more her conviction would falter. Best to get it over with. She opened up her bathrobe, bearing her supple breasts, and her toned midriff. She pulled the robe down further, tying the sleeves around her hips, to hold it in place. She lowered her gaze to her stomach. She never really gave it much thought before, but it was quite attractive, toned, yet still slightly flabby, it was pleasant to the touch. She massaged it, smothering it with her left hand, trying to find that 'hollow' where the dagger would go. She eventually gave up, as she wasn't exactly sure what this 'hollow' was meant to feel like, and decided to just start with her belly button. Might as well go for a cross cut, get herself some bonus honour points, for whatever that's worth. Then it hit her. She was still a virgin - even that idiot Shinji got some action before he died, with Rei of all people. She looked up at Rei, as her fingers moved to her exposed navel.

"Hey, Rei, what do you think of my belly?" She asked, rather awkwardly.

"It holds your intestines, liver, kidneys, stomach, spleen, pancreas, and gallbladder, if I remember correctly, so it is quite a useful part of your anatomy that should really be called the-"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Rei," Asuka snapped, pausing briefly, "Get over here, fucking finger me, lick my belly and belly button, and don't fucking start spewing human anatomy!"

Rei, slightly offended at being cut off, let out a sigh, as she obeyed. It wouldn't do her any harm to oblige Asuka, but it was quite strange that both her and Shinji wanted to do something sexual with her before they died. Was this really that important before death?

Rei sat down in front of Asuka, wrapping one hand around her back, as she slid the other towards Asuka's crotch. She looked Asuka right in the eyes, as she lowered her head, and slowly licked her chest, between her breasts. Asuka yelped, she didn't think it would tickle this much. It was a novel feeling, a strange one, but not in a bad way. The tingling got more intense as Rei moved down, dragging her tongue along Asuka's midriff. She shuddered as Rei slipped her fingers inside her already moist pussy.

"Oh god, don't stop~" Asuka mewled.

She never thought that she would have enjoyed something of this sort. Perhaps it served as a way to escape the anxiety, and discomfort of what was to come?

Rei, meanwhile, methodically pumped her fingers inside Asuka, keeping a steady, almost machine-like pace, while she slowly traced her tongue around Asuka's deep, slit-like navel. As if beckoning her to just stick it in already, Asuka pushed her belly into Rei's face. Yet, Rei persisted, she kept teasing Asuka, neither fingering her very fast, or hard, nor tongue-fucking her belly button. She was doing just enough to keep her on edge, yet not tip her over. Rei's slimy, warm lingua kept tracing around the rim of Asuka's navel, eventually retreating back into her mouth. Instead, she brought her nose down, and pushed it into Asuka's tight belly button, sniffing it, eliciting a few giggles from Asuka. It smelt of lavander, and milk. Asuka must have washed quite thoroughly. Satisfied with her partners belly button hygiene, she finally pushed her tongue into the crevice, twisting and turning, until she reached the nub. Judging by Asuka's reaction, she quite enjoyed that, she moaned like a wild animal in heat, prompting Rei to move her fingers harder, and faster. She pumped Asuka's belly and pussy harder, harder, until Asuka practically screamed out from the orgasm.

Rei sat up, pulling her fingers out, "Was that fine?" She asked.

Asuka, breathless, lying on her back, simply nodded. This wasn't what she had planned originally, but it felt great, and there was no use regretting it now. Gathering her composure, she straightened out once more, sat in seiza once more. She cleared her throat.

"That was, uh, fine. You can sit back now."

Rei nodded, as she remained seated, watching Asuka. There wasn't really much else to do. Perhaps she should think of a way to commit suicide?

Asuka, calm once again, grabbed hold of the wrapped up knife, as she spread her belly button open with her free hand. She slipped the tip of the knife in, until it reached the pit of her navel. She let go of her belly button, and placed both hands on the knife now, with the cutting edge facing down. A deep breath, followed by a gentle push, and the tip of the knife broke the skin. It stung somewhat, yet she kept pressure on the knife. The stinging got worse, as the knife slid through the scar tissue, cutting just deep enough to penetrate her stomach cavity. A trickle of blood flowed down from her navel, snaking its way to her smooth, hairless crotch, as it slowly stained her bathrobe. With the knife now firmly in place, came the hard part. Making the cross-cut. This was going to hurt. Regardless, she had to push on. It was too late to stop now. She adjusted her left hand to better push downwards on the blade, and began making the downwards cut. She felt an immense pain right below her belly button, as the scar tissue that held the knife in place, began to tear. She wiggled the knife around, hoping to get it to cut through, and - her navel gave way. The knife tore downwards, tearing down to her cervix. She bit her lip, and shut her eyes. The disgusting, searing pain in her stomach just kept getting worse, and she felt a sickening pressure building from inside her. She quickly pulled the knife back up to her navel, as she let out a pained grunt. Time to cut upwards.

Rei looked at the gory spectacle before her in amazement. She still didn't understand the significance of cutting open ones abdomen, to spill their internal organs, as a means of suicide. It was far too inefficient, not to mention extremely painful. Not to mention, from what she had seen and learned, there was no advantage to dying this way, at least not in today's society, so why was Misato, and now, Asuka so insistent on this form of suicide? Turing her gaze away from Asuka, she unbuttoned her shirt, baring her own midsection. Perhaps she should try seppuku? Maybe she was missing something.

Asuka meanwhile, was contemplating her options. She could either, twist the knife till the cutting edge faced upwards, or pull it out, re-orient it, insert it into the wound, and continue with the cut. She settled on twisting it, as it was faster, and in her now convoluted mind, a more honourable thing to do. Preparing herself, she took a deep breath, and held it in, as she violently twisted the knife, spraying blood from her mutilated navel all over the towel. She let out a soft groan. She felt sick to her core. It only got worse with each passing second. She tugged at the knife, pulling it upwards. There was no resistance as it slid cleanly through the fat and muscles on her upper belly. She cut almost up to her sternum, before pulling the knife out. The pressure that was building inside of her somehow vanished, and the nausea was miraculously gone. She knew why. She didn't dare look, yet she knew why that was. With such a massive gash in her belly, and with her now relaxing her muscles, her entrails pushed out. She didn't even finish the cut, and yet a good portion of her guts were now piled up in front of her. Eyes still shut, she placed the knife to her left hip, and with what little strength she had, pushed it in. She barely felt it, the pain coming from the central wound was overpowering compared to that little pin prick. Gripping the blade with both hands, she jerked it to the right as hard as she could, neatly slicing through her soft lower belly, from hip to hip. She dropped the knife, and leaned forwards. A disgusting slopping sound, followed by the sudden onset of nausea followed. She opened her eyes. The clean, white towel she had laid on the floor was stained a dark red, and right in front of her, sat a heap of guts. Her guts. She reached out, touching one of her intestines. It didn't hurt, rather, it felt, odd. She wasn't sure how to describe the feeling, though, considering the lack of blood, it wasn't surprising. She looked further down, at what was left of her belly, and smiled faintly.

"A perfect cross-cut." Asuka mumbled.

Asuka raised her head, looking Rei straight in the eyes, as she brought the knife to her own throat.

"Your turn." She whispered, as she drove the knife in.

_________________________________________________________

Seeing that Asuka was no longer among the living, Rei pulled the knife from her throat. She stood up and walked to the sink, rinsing the blood off of the knife, before making her way to the living room, knife still in hand. She went to her school bag, rummaging around. She found it. Molecular Cell Biology. The book she was reading through in her spare time.

"Your turn"

Asuka's words rang through her head. She got looked down at her stomach. She already knew what she would find should she cut herself open, so that was of no particular interest to her, although she felt obliged to listen to Asuka's final request.

Rei lay her bag down lengthwise, placing her book on top of it. Might as well give herself something to read one she made the cut. She opened the book to chapter she stopped at last night on Nerve Cells before turning her attention to the knife. She brought it close to her left hip, before pushing it in. Rei took her time, making sure she made the cut just right. If she pushed in the blade too deep, she risked damaging her viscera, thus shortening her expected survival time - meaning she would either not get to finish reading her chapter or that she'd have to rush through reading it.

The knife didn't have too much to cut through, given her small, lithe build. She clearly felt the lack of resistance one she had pierced through the muscle, stopping herself from applying more pressure almost instantly. She tried to pull the blade towards her right hip, but the knife didn't cut as well as she would have expected. With a sigh, she slowly started sawing open her belly. Dragging the blade against her torn flesh, bit by bit. She could feel each individual muscle fiber tearing. What started as a trickle of blood now turned into a torrent. Her hands began to tremble as she got close to her right hip yet Rei persevered. With a final tug she had completed the cut, yet unlike with Asuka, her insides were staying inside. Perhaps it was better this way. Less messy. She set the knife aside as she turned her attention back to her book.

It didn't take long for her to finish the chapter - or perhaps it did and she simply lost track of time. Regardless, she had finished reading, and she did not feel anywhere close to death. Blood had stopped gushing out of her wound, rather it has slowed down to a steady flow. She had at least another hour left in her. A painful and quite boring hour left. Thinking about what she had read, and experienced with Shinji taking her virginity, she somehow made the link that for her nether regions, more pain, is equal to more pleasure. With nothing better to do, she thought best to test this.

Grabbing the knife with one hand, and holding her bisected belly with the other, she got up on her knees. She placed the knife right below her, resting the tip against her lower lips. Surely this would feel good, right? She slowly wiggled the tip of the blade inside her, feeling the cold steel brush past. A jolt shot up her spine as the blade gently brushed her tender flesh. It felt great. She focused less on the pain in her stomach, and more on the pleasant tingling coming from her crotch. She pulled the knife out slightly before pushing it in a bit further, just slightly grazing her insides, as the first droplets of fresh blood began to drip from the knife. Yet another thrust left a steady stream of blood pouring out of her as she twitched violently from both pain and pleasure.

With each thrust the knife went further, cutting deeper. The pain started to build yet Rei did not stop until the knife was in up to the hilt. She wasn't done. She didn't climax yet. Letting go of her wound she grasped the handle with both hands as she jerked the knife upwards. The initial tug gave her that sweet release she so craved but she pulled a bit too hard. The blade tore through her vaginal walls, up past her pubic mound, slicing through everything in the way, bladder included. The caustic fluid spilled over her torn insides as Rei kept pulling the blade upwards.

Her strength finally failed her as she just joined up the cuts, as her innards gushed out all over her bag, and her book. Losing her balance along with her insides, she fell forwards, burying the knife into her spine leaving her paralyzed below the point of impact.

She glanced at her now completely ruined book. Much like herself right now. Bloodied and ruined.

Thankfully, she no longer felt pain. She just felt cold. Incredibly cold. The shock and blood loss finally getting to her. Her thoughts began to wander, as tears began to pour out of her eyes. She came silently into this world, and she would go silently into the night.
_________________________________________________________

Hello hello gurochan! New author with some short stories to share, most of which were inspired by the legendary Poguemahone and JestInPieces. I'll just be collecting whatever I put together in here, which will loosely follow the various gorey adventures of a young trans woman named Pris. Things to expect from me include: cons, non-fatal, regeneration, vivisection, blood, wild animals, cannibalism, and the majestic wild girlpeen.



This first story was thanks to a request from Poguemahone to start posting my things more widely, so you may thank him for this :D



Spin the Bottle
=Consensual, Non-Fatal, Skinning, F/F=



The glass Coke bottle spun around on the floor, mouth spinning between each of the girls sitting around it in a circle before finally coming to a stop pointing at Pris. A chorus of cheers and jeers went up as her face flushed a sudden deep, burning red. Across from her, the girl who had spun the bottle got to her feet and crossed the circle, grinning.



"C'mon Pris!" she said, gripping the smaller girl by the shoulders and bringing her to her feet. "We're all girls here, nothing to be ashamed of."



The brown-haired girl returned her crush's smile nervously, her face still flushed. "I… as long as it's you…" She gripped the hem of her nightgown and started to tug it over her head, revealing a lacy black negligee covering a small set of breasts, and a matching pair of obviously bulging black panties. Sandrine wolf whistled, squeezing her between the legs and earning a yelp from Pris.

"Someone was hoping to get lucky tonight~" she said.

"Well… I did, didn't I?" Pris shot back, rallying to her defense as she tugged the panties down around her ankles and the lingerie over her head. Her cock, furiously hard, stood upright at attention despite her efforts to cover it with her hands.

"I'd say," Sandrine said, looking down at her length and licking her lips. "We both did." She picked up the box cutter that Emily had borrowed from her mother's office, and extended with a quiet ‘’shik!’’ "Let's have a look, sweetheart."

Pris swallowed hard. ‘’S-sweetheart?’’



Without waiting for an answer, the blade dug into Pris's stomach, and swept upwards through her belly until it stopped, scraping against her sternum. Her slender hands were bathed in a rush of blood, staining her fingernails and soaking into the end of her sleeves. Sandrine pulled it free of her body, licked the dripping clear threads of peritoneal lining and thick crimson blood off the blade before setting it to the side. Pris wormed her fingers into the edges of her split skin and began rolling it backwards away from the cut in her belly, one hand holding the flap and the other sweeping just under the lifted layer, separating it from fat and muscle.



Sandrine joined her, working on undressing her on the opposite side and then, when they had gone as far as they could without widening the cut, both of them switched to her legs. Using the box cutter and a bit of careful maneuvering, they traveled the length of Pris's thighs and calves together, separating the tighter cartilage connections to her skin. She twitched at sensation of her crush's slender fingertips touching the inside of her thigh, causing the thick muscles to spasm and jerk under her hands.



"Oh, you little freak~" Sandrine said, smirking. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? Letting all of us watch you undress~"

"I-I-I'd be hard pressed to find a girl who didn't enjoy your head resting in her crotch."

"Well, you certainly are ‘’hard.’’"



Pris blew her a raspberry, then began to step out of the skin of her legs, rolling them down her body like a pair of long socks or tights. She wriggled to try to get her hips and thighs out of the split in her stomach, but was unsuccessful until Sandrine reached into her skin, gripped the base of her penis, and stripped the skin free of her rock hard cock like taking off a sock. Pris moaned.

"Focus, sweetheart," she said, holding the inverted penis skin and waggling it at Pris's face like a crop.

"S-sorry. I can never anticipate when you'll just grab hold of me…"

"What can I say? I take what I like."



With Pris's legs and hips free of her skin, slithering out like a flexing, powerful crimson snake shot through with strips of white tendon and yellow fat, the rest came quickly. Sandrine slid one hand under the skin of her back and gripped her shoulder, forming a knuckley bulge under the skin before pulling downwards, sweeping her other hand along the length of her arm from within. In a fluid motion, her arm pulled free, and her skin bunched and gathered at her shoulder all the way until her fingers pulled free, and it flopped down at her side limply.

Sandrine then pulled the skin free and held it to the side. Thick strings of mucous and internal lining stretched from her fresh, steaming muscle and the pristine skin peeling free from her torso. Her breasts hung as small, flattened masses of yellow fat, with a slight browning at the center end where her areola had been peeled off. Two red arms gripped the edges and helped Sandrine pull it higher off her body until her shoulders came free too, leaving only her head.



"I want to see all of you, sweetheart~" she cooed, and then in a single, powerful motion, tore her face off.



The skin of her head twisted inside-out, leaving a red, gaping negative of her features dangling from the end of the intact pelt. Through the holes of her former eyes and mouth, some of her long brown hair dangled through. Sandrine grinned then tossed the skin to the side where it slumped to the floor in a crimson heap.



"That's much better now, isn't it?" Pris covered her chest and cock self-consciously, but realized quickly that in her advanced state of nakedness resisting was largely futile. Through the cut in her abdominal muscles, the rapid pounding of her aroused heart was clearly visible.



"S… sure. I'm always nervous when I'm naked though…" she murmured, returning to her seat in the circle while her friends cheered. A couple gave her hugs and clapped her back, earning themselves deep, bloody stains in their nightgowns as well.



‘’Clink! Clink-clink-cli…clclink.’’



Everyone watched Pris's skinless skull, her bulging eyes, exposed teeth and flared, empty nose. Everyone watched the skin, bloody muscle suddenly drain of color, turning ashen and tan against her bleached white skull.



The mouth of the bottle once again pointed at her.

The Challenge

m/f, snuff, drowning, necrophilia

As a gentle ocean breeze blew past him, Jad paused to inhale deeply. The air was warm, salty and slightly fragrant with the spice of some plant that grew on the island. It was a good day to be alive.

Of course, brushes with death always made you appreciate life more, he reflected. Only a few hours ago he and his fellow crew members had been locked in deadly combat with a Rolan merchant vessel. For merchants, they had been surprisingly ferocious once boarded and a good number of his comrades had died at their hands. He was lucky to have made it out with only a light slash across his upper arm. He rolled his shoulder, flexing the muscle beneath the bandage. Already healing up nicely, thanks to the poultice their ship’s doctor had applied.

They weren’t pirates. Although, admittedly, their lives were very similar to that of pirates. They were privateers--mercenaries of sorts, hired by the Davit crown. They sailed the open seas, terrorizing the ships of any nations that Davit was at war with. Which, at the moment, included the Rolans.

The risks were high but the rewards were great. The merchant vessel, the Seaspray, had been on a return voyage, loaded down with all manner of valuables. Jad’s personal share of the booty was sure to buy him plenty of nice things, once they made port at a major city. His ship, the Wave’s Malice, was currently anchored in the bay of a small, uninhabited island that had become a sort of headquarters for their operations.

A tug at the rope in his hand reminded him of another, much more exciting, prize from the raid. Most of the fighting men on the the Seaspray had been slain during the battle. Those who were not were summarily executed after their capture. Wave’s Malice had no room for prisoners. The few women aboard, only four in total, had been turned over to Jad and his friend Seth. It had cost them a fair portion of their share of the loot, but these women were going to do things that money couldn’t buy.

The women had been disarmed, of course, and posed little threat. Nevertheless, they had been bound, their their wrists tied together with rope. They also each had a length of rope tied around one ankle, with an iron weight attached at the other end. The weights were iron cubes with a thick ring on one side, which served as a handle and a tying point for rope. They were damned heavy. The women might have been able to lift them themselves but certainly wouldn't have been able to get far. He and Seth each wore leather bracers that magically enhanced their strength, making it only slightly tiring to lift and haul these weights around. There were several feet of rope between the weights and their ankle attachments, so they worked reasonably well as leashes with which to control the prisoners. They had brought the women ashore in the ship’s jolly boat and were making their way to a secluded seaside cavern.

The two women whose leads Jad held walked in front of him, toward their destination. Even though their tugging had been the result of him pausing to enjoy the breeze, he brandished his sword at them when they turned to him.

“Get walking,” he growled. The blonde one actually squeaked a little at this display. There wasn’t much hope for her.

They continued on in silence. Jad’s two prisoners slowed as they approached the cave, peering in cautiously. Once they saw that there was light coming from within, they resumed their grim journey, stepping carefully around the uneven surface of the cave’s entrance.

They were soon completely inside. It wasn’t a large cave. Other than the short tunnel leading in, the only other feature was a rough stone ledge that, after a short drop, lead to a small pond of calm, clear water. Everburning Torches had been arrayed along the walls of the cave, both above the water and below, giving the pool an eerie yellow glow.

Jad carefully rested the prisoners’ weights near the edge. Seth and two women with him arrived just behind them. He rested his weights on the floor in a similar manner.

“W-what are we going to do here?” the nervous blonde asked, looking down at the water below. She had been a stowaway on the merchant ship. The lover of one of the sailors, with whom she had hoped to travel and start a new life at the ship’s destination. Or so Jad had heard. She had explained all of this to the men who had come upon her in the cargo hold as she begged for mercy. She wore a dingy dress and apron that made him guess that she had been a maid or some other sort of house-servant before her ill-fated journey. The outfit did little to accentuate her body, which was slight and petite. She was young, although certainly in her adulthood, and her face was clear and smooth with youth.

The other women glared at the blonde with varying levels of contempt. It wasn’t clear whether they were scorning her due to her stowaway status or due to her cowardice. Maybe both. Who knew? Either way, they seemed to be just as interested to know the answer. Jad cleared his throat and began.

“I know that we must seem like mean, nasty pirates,” he began, eyeing the blonde, who quailed at his attention. “But we’re here to offer you a chance to make it out of this alive. Which is more than can be said for any of the men aboard the ship.”

“Just get to the point,” one of the other women asked him. The patches on her uniform marked her as the ship’s boatswain--rare for a woman to attain such a position, but not unheard of. Her black hair was cut short, in a style common for military women. Her dark skin and exotic eyes marked her as one of the people of the Southern Seas, who were renowned as expert sailors and traders. She had put up a perfunctory fight during the battle but had quickly surrendered when she saw her crew members doing so. Since then, she had accepted her capture with quiet cooperation. But now it seemed that there was some moxie in her. This one had some promise.

Jad smiled.

“My companion here,” he gestured to Seth, who had seated himself on the stone floor and was rummaging through his backpack for something. “Has a Potion of Water Breathing.”

At this, Seth produced a small glass flask filled with a blueish fluid. He uncorked it and downed its contents.

“I’m sure you can imagine what that does,” Jad continued. “He’s got an anchor, like yours, and he’s going to take a dip in the pool here.”

He paused in his explanation as Seth produced just such a weight. But before tying it to his ankle, he removed his pants, revealing a full erection.

The blonde startled at this but the others seemed less surprised.

He continued to disrobe, until all that remained were his magic bracers. He then carefully affixed the anchor to his ankle. He stood, holding the weight in one hand and a dagger in the other. He wordlessly walked to the stone ledge and, with a perverted grin to the women, hopped in.

“Oh, don’t worry, the water’s actually quite warm,” Jad assured them as they stared down into the pool.

“So, what’s the game?” a different woman asked. She seemed more bemused than scared. Maybe it was a defense mechanism for her, or maybe it was because she felt that she was about to have an advantage in the events to come. Based on her attire, she was clearly some sort of prostitute, perhaps a designated courtesan for the ship’s crew. Her low-cut dress revealed an impressive amount of white cleavage, boosted by a tight corset beneath it. Waves of jet black hair fell past her shoulders, contrasting sharply with the pale skin of her chest.

“As you couldn’t help but notice, my friend has been out to sea for quite some time and is in dire need of comfort,” Jad explained.

“Oh, that will be no problem at all,” she tittered. “Just hand me one of those potions and I’ll get him taken care of in no time at all!”

Jad smiled mischievously.

“I’m afraid that’s the only potion we have.”

They stared back at him in shock.

“I will send you down to him, one at a time,” he continued. “The first to get him off will be spared her life. He has a dagger down there with him, you saw, so he’ll be able to cut loose the rope that holds you, once you finish. That also means no funny business--believe me, there are more painful ways to die than drowning.”

The women collectively shivered at that last word. Even the whore seemed to have grown serious.

“Y-you must be joking, right?” she blonde stammered. “This-this can’t be real. I-I’ll do anything--whatever you want--just don’t send me down there, please, I can’t die, he said everything would be all right, he said that I would be fine, you can’t do this--” her pleas soon devolved into unintelligible blubbering. The other women all stepped away from her, their scowls deepening.

“Wait, who said that you would be okay?” Jad asked her, trying to sound genuinely curious.

“The man, the man who found me in the hold,” she sputtered out.

“Agon?” Jad asked, innocently.

“Yes, Agon, the man with the beard, Agon. He told me that I would be safe, I just had to let him tie me up, he told me…”

“Well, if Agon gave his word that you would be fine, I guess I have to honor that.” Jad was never that great of an actor but the frantic young woman seemed to believe him wholeheartedly.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, I don’t know what to say!”

“Here, let me get your hands free,” Jad said, moving toward her. She held out her wrists and he sliced off the ropes that had bound her. She was still crying, although they seemed to now be tears of relief as she heaped praise on him.

“Now, just let me get the one on your ankle too,” he said, kneeling before her. In one smooth motion, he lifted her anchor and shoved both her and the weight into the water below.

Anyone have any stories involving pussy trauma of some kind? Preferably consensual but non-con is ok too!

Fountains
(Cons, snuff, ff)

“I can't believe you let me talk you into this! This is going to be so much fun!”

Mia glanced nervously at Trish as her friend and roommate bubbled away energetically behind her in line. She was the classic blond stereotype: leggy, body toned from constant work, and huge tits that apparently used the blood supply that would otherwise be meant for her head. Far too popular with the boys for Mia's taste (envy) and needing constant help to pass her classes in underwater basket-weaving, or some such, the two had nevertheless struck up an unlikely friendship. Mia claimed that doing otherwise would take far more energy than just submitting to the inevitable, but secretly she enjoyed the hijinks Trish got them into, things Mia could never have thought up herself.

Mia was a stereotype too, she knew it, and she hated it. The bookish asian girl, pursuing a degree in applied mathematics. Small in size and height as well. Shy. Glasses. Overlooked. If she hadn't lucked out with her roommate, Mia knew her life would consist of haunting the library and computer labs between classes, and very little else. For some reason however Trish was always going on about how cute Mia was, which was what had led them into this mess. Mia was tired of cute. Puppies were cute. She wanted something else.

After one cute too many, Mia finally cornered her roommate and demanded something else, something not-cute. Trish, of course, went berserk. Both their closets were inspected and rejected, prompting a impromptu shopping trip that left Mia dazed. A passing comment that black fit her personality had resulted in a pair of sore nipples as Trish pinched till Mia took it back, but it did seem to set the theme. Things were applied to her hair that she didn't know existed. Previously unmolested hair follicles lost their innocence, to the sound of much cussing. Makeup was committed. Looking into a mirror afterwards though, Mia saw hot.

The end result had been sexy goth. Laced knee boots that added 4 inches to her previously short stature before trailing off into dark stockings that ended exactly at the level her skirt started, ensuring that a ring of pale flesh would be flashed with every movement she made. A black corset put on over a matching dress somehow managed to support and reveal her chest in a way that made her breasts seem bigger than they ever had before. Possibly by squeezing her lungs into them. Trish claimed the dress could easily be worn by itself at more formal parties, but Mia knew she could never reproduce the steps solo to do so. Her long hair now had a very dark purple tinge and had been braided and rebraided until it sat entirely on her head and left the slender column of her neck entirely exposed.

Somehow Trish had found time to get herself a new look in the middle of Mia's makeover. Black would never do for the perpetually cheerful blond. Instead, Trish was the all natural country girl, with sneakers, daisy duke shorts, and a tied off plaid shirt. It was clear she was wearing panties, since the shorts were too small to cover the straps as they went up over her hips. It was clear she wasn't wearing a bra, for much the same reason. Mia reflected that, while the outfit on Trish was essentially thrown together, if you counted the hours weekly spent maintaining the sun-kissed body that made it work, it was probably far more complicated than her own.

Doubt battled excitement as Trish hopped online to find someplace to show off her new roommate for the night. Mia made token murmurs about mountains of homework, and was quite pleased when such protests were summarily ignored. She was less pleased with what her roommate found: 'Fountains' were putting on a show that night, no tickets, no waiting list. Trish had seemed surprised when Mia recognized the group and started objecting for real; given Mia's record with pop culture knowledge, Trish probably hoped to surprise her. Somehow though Mia had been overruled, and so here they were, freezing in line with what seemed like the entire female segment of the their college.

“Are we really sure we want to do this, Trish?” Mia tried, making one last attempt at sanity. “I mean, this is dangerous! We could be killed!”

“I know! It's so exciting! Ohmygod, what if one of us does pop, wouldn't that be such a rush?!” Trish paused, finally catching Mia's worry through the glow of her own excitement. “Um, if you don't like this, we can go back. Watch it on TV or something. It's ok. I may not really understand much of what you're doing, but I know you've got big future ahead of you. I guess it'd be silly to risk it on a night out with me.”

It wasn't a pout. Trish would be deeply offended if anyone accused her of trying to manipulate someone into something they didn't want to do. But Mia could almost physically see the disappointment well up in her blond roommate as she started saying goodbye to those nearby in line, and had a mental image of herself kicking puppies. She also had an image of herself, 35, shut in, no life except work and sleep.

“No,” she decided. “I changed my mind. The future can take care of itself for the night. We're staying, and we're going to have a blast.”

“Yay! Best roomie ever!” The surrounding girls cheered as Trish grabbed Mia in a bear hug that lifted her clear off the ground, squeezing out what air her corset had left her and leaving her suffocating in boobage. “Woops, sorry about that,” she said sheepishly, setting Mia hurriedly back down after muffled protests escaped the depths of her cleavage.

“No” -gasp- “problem.” Mia wheezed. She managed a smile while fighting the corset for air. “I can think of worse ways to go than a face full of tit. Not that I'm volunteering!” she added hurriedly, as Trish laughed and looked ready to come in for another hug.

Time passed quickly for the two giggling roommates, and it wasn't long till they were being fitted with collars at the front of the line. A limited choice of color, black or white, allowed the collars to not clash too badly with the girl's clothes, but at an inch high by and inch and a half thick, it was clear they were not something that could be hidden. Helping attach them was a tall brunette of about Trish's height, dressed in a collar of her own, slacks, and a tight STAFF shirt with write in name tag labeled 'Amy.'

“Hi,” she said brightly, grabbing a white collar to fit to Trish. “Ever been to a Fountain concert before?”

“Once, and I know Mia's seen them on TV before,” Trish replied.

“Perfect! Then you already know this, but by wearing this you accept that death or serious injury is a likely and don't hold anyone other than yourself responsible should they occur.”

Trish answered a quick “Yup!”, but Mia asked “Serious injury? How can that happen?”

The collar sealed with a click around Trish's neck, and Amy stepped back, puzzled. “You know, I'm not actually sure. It's part of the speech they gave me to say, but no one's ever asked that before.” She grabbed a black collar and turned to look Mia as she thought. “I suppose they could cause you to slip and twist an ankle or something if you thought it was going to go off and it didn't...”

“Anyways, these things can be tricky to take off,” Amy continued, leaning over as she struggled a bit to seal the clasp on the back of Mia's collar, “so be sure have one of the staff help if you decide to leave in one piece.” There was a click as the collar finally locked, earning Amy a quick peck on the lips in thanks.

“So... since you're wearing a collar too, are you going to be out on the dance floor later as well?” Trish asked as the two suddenly blushing girls separated.

“I hope to be, but us staff are expected to fill in wherever it's needed, so I may not get the chance.”

“Well, if you make it out there, be sure to find us!” Trish said with a grin. “I'd love an encore performance.”

“I... think I'd like that too.” Waving, the two entered the concert proper as Amy turned to collar the next in the long line of girls.

The interior of the building was dimly lit like any good club should be. A lowered dance floor took up most of the space inside, large enough to fit a decent sized crowd quite comfortably. Which meant the enormous crowd that had shown up for the concert was going to be getting very familiar with each other. Two large speakers framed the performers stage, while an oversize bar took up most of a side wall. The rest of the room was packed with chairs and tables, more apparently brought in just for tonight, to give attendee's a chance rest during the night. In a break from normal club setup, the tables and chairs all held clean white towels for public use, while a large hamper had been set up for disposal of used towels.

“I can't believe you kissed her!” Trish whispered as the two of them found room towards the back of the dance pit. “Since when are you into girls?”

“Well, I'm not. Not really. But she was cute, and that shirt was so tight, and she was just right there!” Even in the dim light, Trish could see the blush starting again. But Mia refused to be deterred. “Besides, if tonight isn't a night for new experiences, I don't know what is.”

Trish gave Mia her best mischievous look. “I see. So you only like handy, big busted girls who are out for a wild night. Good thing there's no other girls around here like that. Oh wait...”

“Uh, Trish, I'm not, I mean I didn't...”

Trish giggled. “Relax, I'm just teasing you. For now anyways. Get a few drinks in me, I make no promises.”

“...Neither do I.”

As Trish picked her jaw up off the floor, Mia turned to the stage where the band was coming out. The lead singer slash guitarist, known to the public only as Silver, took the mic while staring at the ground. Pale, with platinum bleached hair and a full white leather outfit that conformed tightly to her body, Silver positively glowed in the darkness of the club, even before the spotlight found her. Mia found herself clutching tightly at Trish's hand, half excited, half terrified, as the night officially started.

Silver started without preamble. “The human body contains approximately five liters of blood, contained under about two pounds of pressure. Of course, when one is excited the PSI can increase substantially. Are we excited?” The crowd roared back at her as she looked up and smiled, making eye contact with the crowd for the first time. Mia's attention was suddenly riveted to the one spot of color on Silver's entire body, lips painted the color of blood. “Are we excited!?” This time the noise was utterly deafening as the room responded in one voice.

Silver looked down, stroked the body of her guitar gently. The room went utterly silent. A pale white to match her own outfit, the artist who designed it had clearly been a master, managing to make it look like was constructed out of actual bones while still managing to keep the sound inherent in a top quality electric guitar. “This is Naamah, and she is unique. Stroke her right, and she'll whisper to one special collar out there, and we all get to see just how excited you are.”

Suddenly her hand move on the string, a power cord blared out of the speakers, shattering the stillness of the club. In the front near the stage an object was suddenly soaring in the air, followed by heavy ropes of crimson liquid. Screams of excitement, fear, and just raw emotion bounced throughout off the walls, the strongest from those girls getting sprinkled with the red rain. The press of the crowd was too great to allow the still twitching body to fall, so the thick jets continued in spurts straight up, each progressing shot reaching less and less till eventually there was no more to give.

“I look out across you all,” Silver continued once the blood stop flowing, drawing eyes back to her so that when the headless body finally did slip to the ground it did so wholly unnoticed, “and I don't see young minds with bright futures waiting for them. I see is a mass of self-maintaining organic bottles in pretty wrapping, each pressurized and ready to blow just as soon as your top is popped.”

“But some of you may not agree. I'm a person, you think, a unique snowflake. There's more to me than the blood I'm storing. Well, Naamah's range is limited. Step off the dance floor, and you're safe, beyond her reach. But where's the fun in safe. Now... are you ready to rock!”

The band launched into their first song, the volume pumped up so it hit Mia as a solid wall of noise, individual notes and lyrics smeared and impossible to comprehend. But the cords from Naamah floated above it all, each one clear, each one marking the eruption of another fountain of blood in the audience as one more young head went sailing through the air. Though part of the song, the cords came without warning, and it wasn't until after the sound was dancing in the air that one realized they had just escaped death again. And again. And again.

Mia was looking around wide-eyed as the first song built to a crescendo, Naamah's death notes coming with greater and greater frequency, when the first girl near Mia blew. There was an explosive popping noise, almost unheard over the riff that caused it, and suddenly the elfin blond in a dayglow green bikini that had been bouncing enthusiastically to the music was headless. Just gone. The truncated body stumbled immediately and would have gone down were it not caught by the shrieking crowd of co-eds around it. Crimson blood was everywhere as the still living heart pumped it feverishly out the abbreviated neck, red liquid covering Trish and Mia's skin and soaking deep into their clothes. Hidden hands released the ties holding the bikini together, exposing the corpse's perky tits and twitching holes for the crowds exploring touch.

Unable to process the sight of the now naked body being enthusiastically molested by those who were moments ago dancing with it, Mia looked around, dazedly wondering what had happened to the head. Finally looking up, she yelped and fell as it came hurtling at her, having completing it's upwards arc and returning near it's point of origin. Flat on her ass and partially stunned as the thing landed in her lap, Mia brought the pixie's head up to look at. Scared and confused, Mia thought on seeing the girls expression, and was wondering if the poor thing had time to realize what had happened to her when suddenly the eyes blinked and the mouth silently worked to say something. Mia screamed and panicked, instinctively throwing the gruesome object away where it was lost quickly among the crowd's shifting feet.

“Aww, you should have kept her,” Trish said, leaning over to help Mia to her feet. “Or better yet, given her a kiss like you did Amy. I bet she would have loved it as she went.”

“Oh god, I didn't think about what it was like for her!” Mia exclaimed, suddenly horrified at how she had treated the dying girl. “She must have been terrified, and I just threw her away like garbage!”

“Relax, you saw what a blast she was having before she lost her head. She knew the risks, and they're why she was here. Why we're here.” Recognizing her friend needed some time, Trish guided Mia off the dance floor. Now that the climax of the first song was over small packs of girls were drifting off the floor to make use of the bar and lounge, though the majority remained cheering in place for the next. Luckily the two of them had moved quickly enough to grab one of the few tables in the place.

“Towel.”

“What?” A fluffy white towel was thrust in Mia's face, siderailing the internal loop of herself throwing the dying head away. She took it, staring dumbly as Trish grabbed another one and started cleaning herself.

“Wipe,” Trish ordered after a moment, finally prompting Mia into action. “Face and hands at least. Blood's sexy, but it's also kinda sticky. Which can be fun some places,” she added, wiggling to draw the eye to her soaked shirt and the soft flesh it restrained, “but not everywhere.”

The band started up their second number as the two roommates fixed themselves up. Silver was front stage, of course, but no longer was her costume of a single color; she too had been hit as her audience erupted before her, white and red contrasting vividly on her lithe body. Her hands moved gracefully on Naamah as she sang, each touch provoking a geyser of blood as another soul was cut loose of it's earthly bonds. The sight was sexy and beautiful, the knowledge of what each gush meant was terrifying.

“You want to head home?” Trish asked, once again breaking Mia out of her reverie.

“Already? I thought you were having fun.”

“I am! It's so sexy being out there, escaping death moment by moment, knowing that any instant could leave you headless and twitching, a toy for any who want to use you. I feel so... alive, aware of who I am when there's a chance I might not be anymore.” Trish frowned and sighed. “But tonight's supposed to be about you, and I can tell this isn't your thing. I could kinda tell out in the line, but I'd hoped that once you got in here and saw it for yourself, you'd see what I see. Stupid, I know.”

Moments, Mia thought. She thought about the energy Trish had brought into her life, recharging a spark that Mia hadn't realized she lost. Yes she had dreams, but thing about dreams was they were always in the future. And the future was a nice place to strive to, but a terrible place to live. The destination might be wonderful, but if the journey took everything you had, what was left to enjoy arriving? Trish is right, I NEED this.

“Not stupid,” Mia said, taking hold of Trish's hands across the table. “Brilliant. I don't care what the school thinks, you're clearly the only one with brains in our room. I think I'm finally here with you, in the moment. And I'm not leaving you again. I promise.” Trish's smile lit up the room as fountains burst in the background.

As the second song of the night came to a liquid end, Mia finally broke the silence at their table. “On second thought, I take back your claim to brilliance. There is something utterly vital that we're missing here, something anyone with any sense at all would have rectified long ago.”

“What's that?”

“Drinks! Alcohol! We've been inside the club for a hour and we're both still thinking clearly! This cannot stand!”

“Haha, yes!”

“Wait here, I'll be back in a moment,” Mia said, standing up to head to the bar.

A shrike of excitement was the only warning Mia had as she was passing by the dance floor before a thick jet of blood hit her in the side. Turning, she saw the curvy body of a newly headless woman collapsing backwards towards her. She saw a great deal of body in fact, as the woman had apparently been dancing entirely nude apart from some rather extreme heels. For once Mia felt nothing but the thrill of the moment, possibly thanks to her recent epiphany but equally likely due to the hypnotic motions the girls naked breasts were making as the dying body they were attached to thrashed beneath them.

Mia knelt next to the headless torso, unable to help herself and anxious to feel the moment final moment life finally left it. Sensing but ignoring the many eyes upon them she reached out, one hand caressing a diamond hard nipple while the other snaked down to the bodies lower lips. As Mia's fingers finally found their way inside the body suddenly arched, back lifting entirely off the floor in one last futile attempt at life. Or at orgasm, though no one, not even the woman who used to possess the shapely body, could know which was truly the case. One last frenzied contraction on Mia's fingers, one last desperate spray of blood from the decapitated neck, and the body was finally a corpse.

Wild applause from the dance floor suddenly brought Mia back to the present, where she was molesting a dead female body. Fighting embarrassment, Mia took a bow, prompting still more cheering. Thankfully a blond in Mia's sudden audience picked that moment to start fountaining as well, prompting a mad scramble catch her falling body for an encore performance and allowing Mia a chance to make her escape before her blush was noticed.

The bar was quite crowded, though surprisingly it wasn't long before Mia was able to attract the attention of a bar girl. Also of note was the collection of severed heads sitting on the counter, though with the activity on the dance floor this wasn't nearly as strange as the speed of service.

“Normally I'd ask what you wanted,” the bar tender began, distracting Mia from very close inspection of the woman's name tag (June) which happened to be pinned to a tight fitting and impressively filled black staff shirt. “But our special tonight is also the only drink being served. You'll like it though.”

“Sure then. Oh, uh, two please. One for my friend back at the table as well.”

“No problem, two specials coming right up.” June quickly filled two glasses with mixed vodka and flavoring, before going down to a strange contraption at the end of the bar. A large box, with a tap on one side and a limp, very pale girls body on the other, bent over with just her head in the box. Or not; Mia suddenly realized where the bar's collection of heads had actually come from. Nothing happened when June tried to use the tap however, prompting her to grin and look at the group of women hanging around.

“Looks like this bottle's empty, ladies. Need to pop the cork on another one and... your it,” she said, pointing at a leggy brunette. The girl's eyes looked like they were about to pop out on their own, but she stepped forward without complaint. She ran a hand along the drained girls back, obviously picturing her own toned body in the same position soon: cold and still. Lifeless.

“Do I need to be... should I... nude?” she hesitantly asked. Almost unnoticed her hand had slipped below and was fondling the soft tit flesh of her predecessor.

“It's your choice,” June replied, gesturing to a the small pile of previous drink donaters, about half of which were still clothed; Mia noted with interest that several of the expired bodies were wearing staff clothes. “You've got a sexy body though, your fans could have a lot of fun if it was naked. When you're done with it, of course.”

The crowd cheered as, biting her lip nervously, the brunette slowly began to strip out of her skin tight jeans and thin black halter top. Her impromptu strip show was only interrupted once with a flinch when June hit a button and the machine released the neck of the previous drink, allowing the corpse to collapse heavily in a heap of pale limbs. Despite the girls obvious fear, the hard nipples and wetness that her underwear revealed as it came off showed that she was powerfully aroused as well. Chest heaving she slowly inserted her vulnerable head into the dark oblivion that awaited inside the machine, one hand busy between her legs while the other crushed her modest breasts.

Her moans were explosively cut off as June hit another button on the device, locking her collar in place while simultaneously activating it, freeing her excited young body from the chore of being a thinking entity. It's long legs kicked out as if trying to escape, but it's ex-owner had ensured the body was well trapped and gradually it slowed down, golden liquid flowing out over the hand that had been stuck by the cunts final convulsions. Not a single drop of red had escaped during the event, and there was surprisingly little on the head itself as June opened a unnoticed compartment to remove it and add it to the collection already on the counter.

The girl was still alive it seemed, scared eyes flickering around to meet those in the crowd. Taking pity on the girl, Mia stepped up and caressed her cheek gently. “That was so hot” she whispered, “Thank you. I wish I knew your name.”

At her touch the dying girl smiled, sight settling on the person who would be drinking her crimson essence first. Mia's touch was warm, comforting. Name? she thought as darkness began to edge her vision, framing the asian girls angelic face. I'm... I'm... Her lips twitched as she tried to finish the thought, but nothing came to her.

With the girl gone, Mia took a moment to examine the other heads in the bartenders collection. There were ten, counting the brunettes latest addition, with expressions split fairly evenly between scared and thrilled. One face she knew though: Amy. She looked fearful, but Mia fancied a trace of disappointment that they never got to meet up for a repeat kiss and who knows what else. Probably projection of her own desires, but there was no one to tell her different so the impression stuck.

“You know her?” June asked, placing the two completed drinks in front of Mia.

“Yes. Well, no, not really. Just from when she mounted my collar. But we hit it off, or I thought we had anyways. I was hoping we'd get a chance to meet up later.” Mia ran a finger over the lips that had been so warm earlier in the evening. “Guess we won't be after all.”

“You must have really made an impression; I do remember she looked somewhat sad when she came here. I think she was looking forward to that meeting too. It's a pity she was staff, didn't get much of a choice.”

“Choice?”

“Sure. Volunteers,” June gestured to the group of girls that she had picked the now headless brunette from, “generally want a chance to see some heads fall before they start coming in, but drinks are needed right away. Staff are required to make up the difference.” June eyed the way Mia was caressing what was left of Amy and added “You can take her with you if you want.”

“That's ok?”

“Sure. They're all free for the taking, people generally don't bother though. After all, it's not like there's a shortage,” June said, gesturing out towards the dance floor where Silver and the band were into their 4th or 5th song, fountains still bursting with gay abandon. “Can't say I really knew her, though we did meet once in orientation. I bet she'd be thrilled to still be wanted by a sexy thing like you even after she was gone. I know I would be. Hope you put her to good use.”

“I... Thank you.” Blushing at June's complement, and still unsure how she felt about it coming from another girl, Mia grabbed the drinks in one hand and cradled Amy in the other and made her escape before she was forced to decide. She had always considered herself straight, when she thought much about it at all; her studies had left little time for sex of any kind, apart from that which required batteries. And yet so far tonight she had already made out in public with two girls, both total strangers.
Both now dead as well, which somehow made it hotter. Lost in thought, she didn't notice the other two girls that had joined Trish until she had sat down.

“Hey girl, you made it back in one piece!” Trish exclaimed with a hug. “Mmm, alcohol! I see you made a friend while you were out,” she added as Mia set Amy's still head on the table.

“Well, part of one anyways,” one of the other girls commented with a laugh. She was rocking a punk look, complete with ripped leggings, black cutoff band shirt that ended just below her perky tits, bright pink skirt that clashed with absolutely everything else yet still managed to be stylish, and far more earrings than ears. “Name's Clair. This is Emily,” she added, gesturing to the petite mousy girl beside her. Emily managed a quick wave, smiling shyly through her curly mess of brown hair, but otherwise stayed quiet. Ah, I know that feeling, Mia thought, sensing a kindred spirit in the quiet girl.

“Girls, this is my roommate Mia and... is that Amy?”

“Yea, she got pulled in for the drink machine. No choice.”

“Dang,” Trish pouted, “I was looking forward to the show you promised. The tiny goth girl forcing the staff to her kinky desires. Or vice versa. Either way, there wouldn't be a dry seat in the house.”

“Trish!”

“Who says we can't still have a show?” Clair asked. “If, um, Amy there was promised a make out session, I think she should get it. What's a little decapitation between lovers.”

“Lovers! We're not...! We just met in line, it was just a peck!” Glancing around the table, Mia realized her protests were getting her exactly nowhere. Even Emily was looking excited, though some of that could have been from Clair's arm which was wrapped around her and moving suspiciously below the table.

“Oh, so you won't mind if I have some fun with her instead then,” Clair said, plucking Amy's vacant head right off the table and deeply frenching the stolen expired staff girl. Mia started to object on the grounds that Amy was hers, but quieted down as she realized she had just been protesting the exact opposite. How dare she take me at my word? She thought, Yea, that'll work great. She writhed helplessly in her seat, knowing that if she hadn't been so bashful it could be her tongue exploring the soft inner reaches of Amy's delicate mouth.

“Aww, I thought you two had a thing,” Trish said, whispering in Mia's ear as they watched Clair attempt to lick Amy's tonsils.

“We just met, how could we have a thing?”

“Easily.” When Mia had no response, Trish went on with some trepidation. “I... may have had a thing for you the first time you walked in our room, so I'm speaking from experience here about things at first sight.”

“You did? Do? Um, wow.” They had shared a room for months and somehow Mia had never suspected. Suddenly Mia wondered if makeup really was best applied nude, as Trish had always maintained.

“Look, I know you don't feel that way,” Trish added, not making eye contact. “I probably shouldn't have said that. I hope things aren't weird now between us. Though if you think anyone's getting your head away from me should you pop out there, your nuts.”

Mia took a moment to examine her emotions before answering. “Before tonight, before Amy and, um, a few things that happened while getting our drinks, I don't know. It probably would be weird. Now though, I can't imagine a hotter fantasy than getting turned into just a head for you to abuse. God, I hope I'm still around after I blow so I can feel you start.”

“Don't have to worry about that,” Clair said, interrupting the new doey eyed lovers. Finished with Amy, she turned the head upside down to give everyone a good look at the neck stump. “I actually saw a documentary about these collars. When they blow, they actually use part of the force of the blast to shut the iris here. That's actually what cuts the head off, not the explosion itself. But since it maintains that seal even after, there's no pressure drop, so the heads stay conscious. Not for long of course, its still a decapitated head, but 10 seconds or so. Enough time to know you've been popped.”

Mia smirked at Trish. “I think my fantasy just got better. But if you want to collect your new masturbation toy, we need to get back out on that dance floor.”

“Come on Emily, we're joining them,” Clair said, pulling the shy girl quickly to her feet. Wide eyed and blushing the curly haired girl quickly adjusted her dress, but not fast enough to hide that she both wasn't wearing any panties and was dripping.

Mia had lost track of which song Silver was on, but it was clear the night was well past the midpoint. The crowd was half the size it had started the night at, and not from people leaving. Bodies lay drained everywhere, some clothed, many not. Heads filled in the gaps, skin tone making it clear that where they ended up bore no relationship to the bodies they lay between. By the time the group made it up near the stage all four of them had paused to take off their shoes, the soft flesh of their fellow dancers proving tricky ground to walk on in high heels.

Mia managed to keep the height advantage from her high heels with the help of a pair of enormous tits, generously provided by a curvy black girl laying nude on her back. Mia all but purred as she dug her toes into the bountiful mounds, imagining that at the beginning of the night they had likely been the pride and joy of a girl just like her, out for a good time. Now name forgotten, dreams abandoned, reduced to nothing more than a cushion for utter strangers feet. The waste was staggering, and massively erotic.

“Even if we both make it through here, we're still only using one bed tonight,” Mia said, grabbing Trish about her bared midriff as they grooved to the music. “You would not believe how wet I am right now.”

Trish met her eyes but, rather than responding, she snuck a hand down under Mia's skirt and beside her panties. Mia gasped as she felt herself entered, blushing furiously and looking around to see if anyone noticed. No one had; everyone was far too lost in their own thrills to be paying much attention to the pairs comparatively sedate explorations. Even Clair and Emily were distracted, too intent on their rapidly approaching orgasms as they ground on each others drenched thighs, lips locked together in a single intense moan. She closed her eyes, letting the world fade away as her awareness slipped down to her core.

“Wow, you are drenched girl,” Trish said, shaking herself to the music while her fingers caused Mia to shake to her desires. “I can't wait to get you back to our room, tear those clothes off you, and...” She stopped mid-sentence, but it wasn't till liquid started to hit her face that Mia realized it had simultaneous with one of Silver's power cords and opened her shocked eyes.

Trish was gone. Oh the vast majority of her was still standing there, blood fountaining in the air like so many others tonight, fingers still twitching inside Mia though with less direction. But the most important bit, the Trish part, was gone. In slow motion Trish's body, Trish's corpse, began to topple backwards, just one more bit of leftovers among countless many tonight. Mia was frozen, stunned, hands still outstretched where she had been savoring the touch of Trish's bare skin. Only her cunt remained active, valiantly clenching of it's own accord in a losing effort to keep Trish's stilling fingers in deep inside.

Moments later, though it seemed much longer, Trish was back. Silent now, and hanging by her hair from Emily offered hand, but still very much alive. Barely managing to smile her thanks to the shy girl, Mia grabbed the severed head and gave it the kiss it needed. Trish's eyes widened in shock, then delight, then closed in bliss before finally death. Mia didn't notice any of it, focusing on the sensations of her roommates locked lips and wrestling tongue, utterly lost to the outside world her sapphic desires were finally consummated. Emily too was lost in the two lovers final kiss, barely noticing when the next cord set Clair's head free, where it was quickly lost in the crowd as her body flopped twitching on the ground. The song had ended before Mia finally broke her kiss. Trish had long since stilled, expression set in one of joy at her roommates act.

“Thank you,” Mia said, holding Trish's still warm head to her chest with one hand and drawing the petite brown haired girl in with the other. “I'm so glad I could be with her when she went, thank you so much for catching her.” Emily just smiled, opening her mouth to say something when the band launched into their next song, drowning the ability to speak normally once again. Instead she reached up and attempted to clean some of the blood on Mia's face. Abruptly Mia realized she was soaked, and while it seemed incredibly intimate as her roommates warm fluid was covering her, now that it was cooling it just felt sticky.

“I think I'm going to head back to the dorm, take a shower,” Mia said, leaning down to almost shout in Emily's ear. She hesitated a moment, then added “you're welcome to join me, if you want.”

[hr]

It was morning. Mia could tell by the way the sun managed to shine directly into her eyes as it peaked above the surrounding buildings, waking her with the precision of an alarm clock. There was hair in her mouth too, which was new, curly brown hair that tracked down to a small body wrapped lightly around her beneath the covers. Extracting it was enough motion to cause Emily to shift as she started waking too. Mia's hand started drifting down, tracing the soft bare flesh of her new lover as memories of the club, and what came after, began flooding back. Escaping the sun, Mia's gaze drifted to the new additions to the rooms decor.

“Thank you,” she said quietly to the pair of heads. Soon they'd have to be taken to a taxidermist to be made more permanent, but for now Amy and Trish were sitting lip locked and peaceful on Mia's desk. “You're the best roommate I could have had. And not just for the two new toys.”

A warm mouth on her hardening nipple brought her attention back down to Emily lay, gazing up impishly through her bangs. “Three,” was all Emily said before vanishing below the covers.

"…and as you fine young boys and girls graduate and go forth into the wide world, we hope you'll keep the spirit and moral certitude of this academy alive."

The Head peered down at the rows of highschool students dressed in their uniforms, and looked to the side.

"And now, we come to the final part of this last assembly."

A schoolgirl walked out onto the stage behind him, blindfolded and with her arms tied behind her back. "This young woman has graciously offered up her life to be used in today's ceremony, as has been done since the founding of our colony 250 years ago." The schoolgirl turned towards the audience of her classmates. Her tanned skin shone with perspiration under the spotlights, despite the coolness of the air conditioned auditorium.

"Mr. Aikawa, if you would please come up and do the honors?".

The PE teacher stood up from his seat near the back and bowed, then made his way up to the stage. The samurai sword sheathed in a slim black scabbard at his side did not escape attention. The students watched with renewed interest as Mr. Aikawa knelt beside the girl and firmly took hold of her shoulders, pressing down and forcing her to kneel.

"Can I have a hand of applause for our very own Sakura Suzuki!"

There was a smattering of clapping hands.

He crouched beside the girl, and noticed her trembling. Her perky tits heaved as she inhaled and exhaled nervously. "Need anything, Ms. Suzuki?", he whispered in her ear. "Water, please", she answered tremulously. Aikawa stood up and retrieved a bottle of water from his bag. He returned, unscrewed the cap and carefully placed the nipple against Suzuki's soft pink lips. She sucked greedily, water spilling and soaking her clean white serafuku. The wet uniform clung to her curvaceous body, revealing the outline of her lacy black bra.

Aikawa withdrew the bottle and set it aside. He gripped the girl by her platinum blonde hair and undid his trousers. His penis sprouted out as he pulled his pants and underwear down, already stiff as a rock. Sakura felt his cock press against her cheek, and felt disgust. Dirty old bastard was shameless, but the thought of the sacrifice endowment provided towards her family kept her pliant.

She opened her mouth and accepted his penis, rolling her tongue around his shaft. Slowly, she moved back and forth with her mouth, sucking and kneading her tongue against his glans. Aikawa felt his balls tingle, and pressure build up. He pressed Sakura's head against his crotch and came, squirting jizz deep down her tight teenage throat.

The PE teacher relaxed his grip, and Sakura fell back, gasping and coughing as cum dripped from her tongue and lips. Aikawa quickly pulled his pants back up, and grabbed the sword.
He pulled it out and gave it a practice swing. It whipped through the air, feeling like an extension of his arm.

"Ms. Suzuki, could you lean forward, please?"

Sakura froze. This was it, wasn't it?
She thought of her family. Of the very large amount of money that would be reserved for them, as thanks for their daughter's life.

She swallowed her fear and leaned forward. Her large breasts wobbled, and the boys in the audience shifted their legs as they awkwardly hid their erections.

There was a belief that the soul of a young maiden would impart luck upon those witness to her selfless sacrifice. As the sword sliced down and neatly separated Sakura's head from her shoulders, she thought of her own soul, and hoped that whatever would come next, her family would at least prosper. She lost consciousness just as her head hit the floor.

As blood sprayed from the neck stump, Aikawa bent down and picked Sakura's head up from the floor. Tears rolled down her cheeks, from behind her blindfold. He leaned in and kissed her on the lips, pushing into her mouth with his tongue. She was still warm and wet, and smelled of sweet cotton candy. Her tongue was limp, and covered with his semen. His hand pulled off the blindfold, and he stared into her eyes. They were half lidded and dull.

Amazingly, her headless body was still upright, resting on its haunches. Crimson blood covered the front of her uniform, while her slender fingers occasionally twitched. There was a hissing sound, and urine pooled around her ass as her bladder relaxed. A nudge from Aikawa's foot, and Sakura's body fell limply on its side, her skirt flipping up and revealing her lacy black panties, stained with piss.

"May her soul bless your lives with fortune". The head finished and wiped at his forehead with a handkerchief.

There was another round of clapping, far more enthusiastic this time. Aikawa bowed towards the students, still holding Sakura's severed head.

outline of a story I'm too lazy to finish..

island hq of perverted villain Rapelord
constant rape of young victims flown in from all over the world
everyone on the island is required to be nude in dungeon area
slaves must be on their knees ready to serve
men are given ample viagra and any drugs they want
most slaves are broken in, others are being broken with drugs, still others are in pens
security is super tight, usually they're also raping
women are also dommes, also abusing boys/girls
wonder woman is chasing a suspect, comes to the island
she's disgusted by the place
decides priority is to save the slaves, esp ones being snuffed
she has to forego backup to save the ones in dire need
she finds a cell were men are raping a young girl, gang rape and torture with knives
WW demands they let her go and instead they intensify the rape and torture, stabbing the girl and slicing her flesh
Overtaken with fury WW breaks in and starts throwing off the men, tearing raping cocks out of the girl
the men fight back and she does not go easy at all, kicks the first so hard his balls splat off the ceiling, uppercuts through a man's guts, elbows another's ribs right into his heart, smashes one face-first into the table corner
now all the hard ons are running away, she jumps in the middle of them and kills/mutilates/maims all of them until she's covered to elbows in blood … frowning down at her hands dripping.. when the girl moans in pain
coming back to the slave, she unties her and tells her to run
to the next room (all are soundproof), guy has killed 2 girls, working on 3rd
WW breaks in, grabs him by the neck & pulls him up off the floor
his viagra hard on is throbbing in front of her
WW looks back at the victims, all chewed up
he's a cannibal, she smiles & looks down at his hard on
licking her lips
her hand wraps around his ass and pulls his dick to her mouth
blowing it like a porn star
sucking and licking as she's choking him out
face turning purple as he starts shooting an involuntary load
her lips pull back and her perfect teeth glisten as she suddenly chomps down
hard
Amazon jaws clenching into ejaculating penis, cutting through meat
she yanks her head away and tears off his cock as he dies cumming
spurting stump shooting blood and cum onto her armor
WW drops the dead meat
spits out the bloody cock on the floor
goes to torture tables and releases the girl
onto the last room
woman torturing boy's cock & balls, his skull is opened and electrodes are stimulating his pleasure zones so he's totally into the torture rapture
she has his hard cock and balls skinned, testicles hanging exposed, as she's pressing a torch flame against his degloved penis as he's squealing in pleasure
WW busts the door down, woman freaks out and falls down, begging for her life
WW grabs for her and the woman dodges and runs to the door
WW grabs her wrist and yanks, rips arm off at the shoulder
woman falls to ground, screaming
WW goes to boy who's being tortured, busts off the binds
a gang of guards comes running up, machine guns blazing
she deflects bullets around the cell, ricochets avoiding the boy but thunking back into the guards and hitting the woman crawling towards the guards
suddenly the adjoining cell wall smashes apart and an android comes in, all tentacles and jabbers
a pair of tentacles grab WW arms and slam her to the wall
an array of deadly devices unfold and slam into WW
as she twists her armor blocks most but she's suddenly cut with by a whirling bladed tentacle, razors digging into her right breast
she screams in anger and turns but blades are chunked into the meat
she struggles and tears her left arm loose, grabbing the tentacle and tearing the blade out of her, and it starts spinning again, splattering her with blood and bits of flesh
she digs it into the other tentacle holding her
it splits apart in fibrous metal shards and lets her go
she launches forward and drives her knee into the android's head
it detonates in explosive arcs and grinds to a halt
She drops gasping
a slow clap brings her back to the moment
Rapelord
behind a barrier of wild-eyed slaves, a grotesquerie of humans molded into sexual monsters, the master of this island is mocking her
"well done!"
WW's eyes narrow as she eyes her target
"… but you'll never defeat my Rapelings!"
the word excites the gibbering menagerie and they surge forth
the closest is a humanoid with a spiked serpentine penis
it rushes in snapping at her face
WW lurches aside, her brace slamming it's fangs away at the last instant
a spidery thing leaps onto her, eight sexy human legs in stocking and stilletos flailing to grasp and tangle her up
WW pulls her sword free at the last instant cutting upward
the razor edge slices through sexy calves and legs and thighs, slices fall away arcing blood
she ends the motion with a block at her shoulder as the penis dragon's fangs slam into the sword instead of her face
she leaps up and back, chopping across, splitting the serpent in half
the man whose crotch it's jutting out of screams as the serpentine penis writhes, slamming into walls, spurting cum and blood
as she's nearing the arc of her leap a dark mass slams into WW and smashes her into the ceiling
then the stench hits her
WW instantly vomits up the contents of her stomach as she's pounded by fetid flying turds, the stench overwhelming
viscous diarrhea sizzle into her, burning even her Amazonian skin
She drops to the floor gagging, sword clanking to the floor as acidic globs drip onto her from the ceiling
The beautiful woman whose ass provided bombardment turns and smiles at WW, then lowers her red latex skirt
WW is shellshocked by the odor and falls to the floor, dizzy, blacking out
RL nods at gas-masked guards standing by the sidelines
they run up and restrain her with drag WW down the corridor… she passes out

she's tied down
in the dark
forearms, legs, neck secured
her eyes dart around
she can see glass concave lens pointing at her, glinting in the dark
she can barely move her wrist inside the restraint but she can turn her head, and there's a bit of play where she can move her thighs…
… her spread open thighs
she peers down … she's nude
she gasps
how
they couldn't have taken off her braces, right? she couldn't see them inside the restraints, but her armor… how were they able to get that off? The magical clasps were invulnerable to human tools and could only be opened at her command …
… or the command of their creator.
she looked down at her spotless breasts, down her belly, to her hairless mound. Only her boots were on, inside the bounds.
they had cleaned her, removed her armor, and tied her spread-eagled. in bondage. naked.
Oh Hera… what had she got herself into?
a movement in the cell, shifting sounds, and clearing of a throat.
"you know, Aries always said I should make time to visit the human world. I never thought it could be as entertaining as my workshop. But oh, molding humans into new forms…"
the figure comes into the cone of the spotlight… Rapelord
but the cadence of his voice, now that she can hear it… familiar… who…?
the voice shifts pitch as he continues, "breaking them apart," he smiles and eyes her curves… "eliciting such music from screaming crescendos…" his right hand hovers over her perfect breast, already healing from the earlier savaging with drying blood over smooth skin
"I've been repurposing my tools up here, putting them to such good use, tearing bodies open, bleeding meat on metal… but the metahumans… oh they are … such intriguing puzzles…"
the hand closes on her breast and squeezes blood out of the healing gash and WW grits her teeth and struggles with all her might to break free of the bonds. "Hephaestus! I will kill you for this!"
"now now, you can't break free. Who do you think made these restraints?" His brow darkened… "and who do you think, made those wonderful pets, whom you butchered back there?"
the woman whose ass had fired the poop blasts steps into the light and hangs on Rapelord's shoulder.
"well, at least one of my beautiful pets survived. Darling, would you like to know Diana better? do you think she would apprecite your talents? why don't you give her a taste?
at this the girl deftly clambers onto the marble slab holding WW and begins licking between WW's legs, lapping wetly at the thin slit, teasing her tongue inside and tickling WW's clitoral apex
WW struggles in vain as the woman begins spreading her open, eating her most private part with such precision that WW's legs begin quivering before long
"as I thought… even a demigod can feel pleasure…"
his hands fondle WW's breasts, thumbs brushing nipples as the fingers squeeze the supple skin in time to the lapping between her legs, intensifying the sensations ripplings through her bound form until an impending orgasm appears on the horizon, and knowing she cannot possibly have an orgasm in this circumstance, WW's struggles reach a frenetic pace…
but the bounds are inescapable, and the rapidly approaching climax inescapable, and she screams no no No NO as she suddenly clenches and convulses in traiterous orgasm, squirting precious fluids on the villain's tongue
with a smile the girl's snake tongue pulls out from deep inside her vagina and licks its tines up her trembling lips as WW tries to back up the table, moaning in overstimulation, her body shivering, pussy contracting, the clenched breath stabilizing as the female slowly backs off, still rubbing WW's quivering belly and thighs until she relaxes and eases onto the marble slab, eyes fluttering in the aftermath
RL whispers, "well, pleasure for sure… but let's see how you do with pain !"
a scream tears out of her throat an instant after a whip cracks her smoldering pussy and WW cannot shut off the betraying screams
even before she can catch her breath to scream again, the whip slices into her vagina again, and again, and again, harder every time
gasping, blinking through teary eyes she sees the beautiful woman who smiles demurely as she strikes WW's pussy, ass, clit, and belly with a scintillating whip, lashing out a glowing blur, mercilessly whipping her pussy over and over, carving and tearing into her flesh, whip cracking with a blinding green flash at each strike of the supernatural weapon.
Losing her mind to agony, WW suddenly grasps onto the pain and with a huge surge of power torques her body, transforming fear into fury, flexing bodily with all her might and the table suddenly cracks in half!
WW rolls to the side, swinging arm and shoulder, wielding the disintegrating table half attached to each restraint as a weapon, smashing rubble into Rapelord who falls in a shower of marble
the metahuman flips around, exposing her asshole which convulses and shoots massive turds at WW
WW blocks with the table remnant, holding her breath as turds smash into the marble, dissolving the stone and restraint which WW helps to breaks off
freed from her bounds, WW runs up and kicks the woman in her asshole, driving her boot into the putrid gurgling mass and the woman flies into the wall and crumples, doubles up in pain
WW looks around, spots her gear on a nearby table next to torture tools and lab equipment
she grabs her sword and closes in again… the woman rolls her ass back around, powering up a turd which begins to poke out amidst drooling diarrhea and blood
WW rushes forward, stabbing her sword up the womans ass hole
the metahuman gurgles diarrhea all over the blade and as she screams, WW shoves it in and impales her out the mouth
WW lets the hilt go and the sword drops to the floor within her spasming and gurgling body.
WW walks to the villain trapped under the marble rubble, dropping down to look at the mangled legs under the stones
She pokes into the bloody ruin with her dagger-sharp nail, eliciting a heartfelt gasp.
"can you feel that, Hephaestus? are you possessing this body? or is it really you, shape shifted?" as she jabs the fleshy ruins
"it's me, it's me! you can't do this! Aries will avenge me!"
WW laughs
really! you think that fool can help you? I don't think even Zeus would have a problem with me, after what you did."
WW reaches down and rubs the bloody whip cuts crisscrossing her crotch, not wondering why the pain tingles and feels… good
"so… if I kill this body, would you die? or banish back to your workshop? at this point, I don't care much either way. of course it's unbecoming of a … what did you call me? a demigod?"
with a smile WW straddles Rapelord's face, spreading her bloody lips and covering his mouth and nose, a heavenly scent of demigod pussy suddenly filling Hephastsus' brain
"well I did learn something new today, so I have to thank you for that at least… let's see how this feels again…"
her crotch now grinding his face, WW's scent and juices flooding mouth and nose, a bulge grows rapidly in RL's pants
WW notices with a laugh and reaches down, feeling it harden swiftly in her hand, grabbing his pants and tearing them apart to expose his throbbing cock and massive balls as they shift and swell, freed from the cloth
"and since a… demigod… shouldn't consort with mere mortals …. and you're the only other immortal around… let's see how this works…" "
she feels their heft in her hand, amazed that he's so incredibly hard despite his broken legs buried in marble
"oooh… i think i'm beginning to see your point…"
WW's mouth closes around RL's cock and she sucks it sloppily, tongue rolling around the shaft as she throats it deeply, rubbing and squeezing his balls as she grinds her wet pussy into his gasping face until he suddenly spurts and she yanks it out of her face with a wet pop
he moans ecstatically into her pussy as hot cum firehoses her gorgeous breasts
clenching his pumping nuts in a hard grip, lifting her pussy to hear him scream, she clamps her fist with Amazonian strength and busts both testicles in shattering pops
her hips tilt forward and she slams her asshole into his screeching
"here's what I've been wanting to do to all you disgusting, leering, worthless men…"
Pushing out with all her might, WW buries him up to the eyes with a massive hot wet shit
she digs nails into his ballsack, twists and tears off his ruined manhood
flailing as he gasps for air, the last thing he sees is her fantastic asshole and dripping pussy hovering over him as with a last wet shart in his face, WW blinds him
Squatting over him, WW pushes his mangled scrotum into the steaming wet toilet that is now his face
she rises up atop her long legs, lifts her boot, and SLAMS the heel down, driving ball sack into throat and shit into airpipe, stomping until eyes, face, and brain are destroyed under her heel, unrecognized, pulverized.
WW's gaze rolls from the carnage to her boot.
"tsk … what a mess."

***

At the facility control center, Aries watched WW standing over the corpse on surveillance monitors and sent a fresh wave of attackers to her location. He inhaled deeply, a smile spreading over his lips, basking in the euphoric sensations enveloping him. " I have you now, Diana. At long last… your delicious, murderous Rage is mine. "