I've noticed several contributors have a thread for short stories of 500 words or less, yet no unified thread exists to post this format.

As I tend to find that my stories tend to grow way to large, to the point that I rarely finish writing them, I wanted to keep this one short.

So here we go.
Feel free to post your 500 words or less stories here, or it may become my own short stories thread.

Living memorial

Candice was easily the most unlucky victim of the war.
She was in the middle of her gymnastics routine when the shell hit her building, right in the middle of her most acrobatic figure.

Unfortunately, she'd executed it perfectly for the first time.

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not sure if this is the right posting method but im looking for 'julie's slide into depravity' heard it had 30 chapters unsure of this but i cant find the whole thing

"I bet you couldn't hang yourself with just your own strength," Iri called out and batted the noose hanging from the swingset next to the regular swing.

"Hmm?" Nae looked up from her book and scratched her pussy, irritated from sitting naked on bare untreated wood of the bench. She had a loosely hanging sailor suit blouse on, but her skirt was in her bag - she was no longer at school, and you could wear anything at the playground. She'd have taken off the blouse too, but it was a hot day and the cotton blouse protected her at least a little - and at 12 she didn't really have anything to show off in the chest department.

"Bet you couldn't hang yourself with this without tying it to something," her classmate Iri repeated, batting the noose back and forth teasingly. She was completely naked herself, which probably was easier to bear with her darker skin. Nae herself was the kind of pale that burned long before it tanned, with deep chestnut hair in a page cut around her ears, while Iri wore her dark curls in twin ponytails - they kept the hair off her neck, at least, in this heat.

Nae looked at the noose thoughtfully. It was always fun to get one over her sporty friend who considered herself superior for spending all her free time climbing, running and jumping, and prided herself on never putting more than two seconds of thought into anything. "I am allowed to only use my own body's strength?"

"And you can't tie a knot!" Iri specified quickly, realizing that her crafty friend was up to something and cutting off the one avenue of cheating she could think of in the aforementioned two seconds.

"You're on," Nae shrugged, put away her book and walked to the swing. She put the noose over her head, then drew the rope taut, passed it between her legs from the back, looped it around her neck another time on top of the noose, then around her waist. Holding the remaining end, she fell forward, pushing off with her feet, and just as planned felt the rope at the top of the swing slide - until her neck and pussy were at nearly the same level and she could no longer reach the ground with her legs.

Easy-peasy, it barely even took effort to hold on to the end of the rope in her hand. Hurt like a b-word, of course, and she regretted not tying a knot between her legs so she could get herself off wriggling. It would of course be against the terms of the bet, not the spirit surely but the letter, and she was already getting by on technicality... She was sure Iri wouldn't have minded a non-functional knot if she asked, but she already missed her window for asking. Lowering herself now would certainly be forefeiting the bet, and Nae was far too competitive for that.

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LAAP Park
by Regis


"C'mon, silly!" Kerrie said, pulling me up the last few of over a hundred steps, well above the structure where the audience eagerly awaited at the bottom of the water slide. I don't know why I was nervous, although being buck naked except for the spike heels provided by the Park was not usual for me. That’s the kind of park it was; everyone parked his or her clothes at the entrance. We all got a crazy upper as we entered, and the guys also got a blue pill to bring on a sustained woodie. It made it easier for everybody to play wild.

Kerrie was a recruiter for the Park, known as LAAP, which was short for Libido Amusement & Amazement Park. I’d met her just an hour ago at the bar where I worked as a topless waitress. Several taverns and bars in town had a back room where 13-year-old girls wearing only open-crotch panties and heels served drinks. We weren’t allowed to date clients, but they could tuck folded tips into our cunnies. That was instead of pay. The customers liked that, and I did real well.

She met me as I was going off an early shift, when I’d got into my blouse, jeans and sneakers. She said I was very pretty, and I’d love this amazing new park, where sexy girls like me were allowed in free. Kerrie was older than me, probably in grade 10 or 11. She promised whatever happened in the Park was kept secret, so it was okay to be nude. All the girls went nude, and when we got in I saw the guys did too. Staff members got a short t-shirt to identify them. Kerrie wore only heels, and a tight t-shirt with “The Park” across her impressive natural breasts, and “Staff” on the back. Otherwise she too was nude. She even pulled the neck of the low-cut t-shirt down below her tits, making them stick up, so I’d feel less self-conscious.

The Park was in the open air, inside a 16 foot wall, with several specific purpose buildings throughout, for different amusements, and had a midway where girls earned points by enduring sexually punishing games that always drew crowds. The sound of the midway was the screams of girls being hit by whips or darts or worse. That was not my style, and Kerrie knew it. Only high school girls were taken there. She said the rides were best, and assured me I’d love the water slide. The building into which it dropped through a dark Plexiglas roof seated a hundred onlookers, who could see me preparing at the top of the tower, but the tinted glass prevented me seeing in.

“You’ve got nothing to lose, Marie,” she shouted as she pushed me onto the slide. I accelerated quickly, twisting through a single 360 loop, and noticed the slide began to narrow. The feeling was exhilarating as I rushed downward. The sides of the slide were soon pressed against my hips, and then they were shorter, and then disappeared.

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Well, some of you might remember me from the old Gurochan. I am back from the grave and writing again, and I just finished a new story that you might like.

Its way to long to post here, so I will leave a link to it. Let me know what you guys think!

Emily's Journey

tags: M/f, cons, first, sex, anal, enema, bondage, oral, throating, torture, noose , meat girl, snuff

https://www.asstr.org/~Eficient/emilys%20journey.htm

The doctor handed me his bill and told me the surgery was even more expensive. I can never pay off this debt! It doesn't matter though, I'm dead in 2 weeks. The banks won't give me a loan, so what am I to do?



I don't pay that doctor shit, I buy fucktons of drugs- some I've never even done before! Designer drugs and the ever-known shrooms and devil's lettuce. First thing's first, smoke some crack and crack a rack at a fashion show!



Wait that's not fair, those models never did a thing to me- besides, they got no racks to speak of, they're only kids! I start smashing the T.V.

Disgusting perverts that want to keep watching Toddlers and Tiaras call the cops, but they don't know I'm a disgusting pervert that wants to FUCK THE POLICE!



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This story was inspired by the amazing poster for the godawful 1987 movie R.O.T.O.R.

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0098156/mediaviewer/rm3496186881/

It contains neck breaking, debreasting, beheading, amputation (legs and pussy), and death by blunt trauma.


The Meat Machines

“The meat machines are here,” Debbie said, pointing at the entryway of the food court.

Charlotte perked up, turning away from her latte to look.


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The Warrior-Queen Eleanor was famously beautiful. She had come from a long family line of gorgeous noblewomen, though none save her had reached the throne. Her kind smile had stolen the heart of many a man and her hard-willed gaze had marked the ruin of many an enemy. Flowing auburn-red hair framed her sculpted features, and her body was defined not only by the curves of her wide hips, slender waist, and perky breasts, but also by the toned muscle that lie beneath her pale white skin.

When the atrocities committed by the now-deposed king grew too terrible, and the country reached its breaking point, Eleanor seized the opportunity to lead a revolt to strike down the cruel king. With her knightly order of celibate warrior-women, she led an army to the capital, conquering and gaining support wherever she marched. By the time she reached the capital, no mortal armies could stand against her might. Her victory was swift, and the cruel king was executed by the Warrior-Queen herself.

She had never taken a husband nor bedded a man, of course, as she had sworn herself to celibacy like her sword-sisters. She retook this vow when she ascended the throne, declaring that the her beauty, and the beauty of those of her sisterly order, belonged only to the gods.

It was at that moment that I knew that I needed to put her in her place.

At times, the mortals forget about the power that my kind wields over their domain. Although direct intervention is uncommon, expressions of our pleasure or displeasure are seen commonly enough throughout the world of men. And the transgressions of the Warrior-Queen Eleanor were greater than had been seen in a generation; their flagrancy burned me like a hot iron. To condemn her own beauty to a life of virginity was vulgar enough, but to damn entire legions of beautiful warrior-women to celibacy was an unthinkable crime against my authority. Such defiance demanded a commensurate punishment.

My names were many. To those who feared me and spoke of me only in euphemism, I was the Carnal Lord, or the Ravager of Beauty. To those who did not shy from my true nature, I was the Lord of Rape, the Corpse-maker and Corpse-fucker, Raper of Daughters and Mothers. My realm was the violation of innocents and the rape of all that was good and beautiful.

My demons were feared by mortals and immortals alike, for where they walked they left scenes of sickening debauchery where there had once been grace and beauty. When they descended upon a town, their razor-sharp claws bested even the sharpest mortal blade, and their barbed cocks destroyed their defeated victims and left only shredded meat behind. I myself was the greatest among them, more than double the height of a man and with a wingspan wider still. My body was hard muscle, my skin was covered in black scales harder than steel, and my horns were larger than an ox’s. My massive barbed cock was larger than any other, and it was perpetually crowned by a living cocksleeve that I had honored with a life of profane servitude.

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I hope you enjoy this. I'm open to any story ideas you have, including fanfiction if it's a property I'm familiar with. No underage, no scat.


Dick McDonald's Revenge

I snapped my fingers and pointed down, and they both got on their knees – a stacked blonde in a loose, low-cut minidress that showed a delicious expanse of creamy cleavage, and a slender Asian in tight white hot pants and a cute rock and roll T-shirt.

I was sitting on the edge of a fountain in the campus center, trying to concentrate on my textbook in the midst of a vast array of luscious feminine creatures, and I’d finally called it. There was just no point in pretending to study until I’d drained my balls a few times, and the two delicacies kneeling in front of me now were the closest and cutest available.

It took a few seconds for me to shuck my jeans as the Asian chick lifted my shirt over my head, and then they were off to the races – the blonde taking a minute to give me bedroom eyes as the Asian stuffed her mouth with my balls.

“What’s your name, stud?” the blonde asked, stroking my dick up and down as her friend slobbered noisily on my nutsack.


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PART 1

Nicole loved to draw snuff in school. Her notebooks and sketchbooks were filled with doodles and art of little anime girls getting fucked, beaten, and killed in various ways. She still had some work to do on proportions and technique, but for a 4th grader she wasn't half bad! She'd even been getting great feedback on the boards where she posted some of her work, mostly from horny older guys (and a few really cool girls) talking about how much her art turned them on, and it was giving her tons of motivation to keep improving.

"Nicole sweetie," her teacher said, interrupting her reverie as she sketched with red and black colored pencils with one hand and masturbated with the other, "the bell rang ten minutes ago. You're going to miss the bus." Nicole had been so absorbed thinking about all the hard pervert cocks and wet pussies being rubbed and stroked to her work that she hadn't noticed!

"Oh fuck... whoops," she muttered, earning a slightly admonishing glance from Mrs. K for the language, but these days even the strictest teachers were basically used to it. Nicole stood up and started packing her things, a bit clumsily and one-handed as she was still absently toying with her cunny inside her little pink shorts. She finally took her hand out only when it was time to zip up her backpack and sling it over her shoulders. Partly she had been putting on a show for Mrs. K - since they were alone in the room together, Nicole just couldn't resist - and she noticed her pretending to be very busy shuffling some papers around her desk while occasionally glancing up and quickly looking away again.

"Shit, I did miss the bus," Nicole giggled as she watched it drive off from out of the window as she was crossing the classroom to the door. "Oh well."

"Oh, dear... are you going to walk home sweetie? Do you need a ride? I can give you one if you wait a bit," Mrs. K said with some mild concern. "I just don't want anything to happen to you walking home dressed like that..."

"Nahhhh it's fine," Nicole said casually, coming to a halt at the side of the desk, her legs spread wide and toes pointing inwards as she leaned forward in a cute kittenish pose to say goodbye, head cocked slightly to one side leaving her brunette pigtails bouncing playfully for a moment. Her nearly see-through white spaghetti strap top fell loosely off her tiny frame when she did so, so that Mrs. K could see right down the front of her flat chest with her little pink nipples. Her low-cut shorts were left unbuttoned and unzipped leaving little to the imagination and displaying without a shadow of a doubt that she wasn't wearing any underwear, and the only other thing she had on were her worn pink flipflops, bare toes painted in cute bubblegum nail polish, and a couple of those charm bracelets popular with the kids made with little plastic stars and hearts and letter tiles spelling out things like F U C K T O Y and R A P E ♥ M E.

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Chapter One: Incubator

The constant breeze was humid and warm, felt almost alive. It was too dark to see, but by the way the air touched the more sensitive areas of her body, Libby realized that she was naked. She felt dizzy, disoriented, and she couldn't move. What exactly was going on? A slow, deep drumming rhythm like a giant's heartbeat filled her ears and vibrated in her chest. Libby had been stripped bare against her will, without a clue how she got here, or where "here" was. Had someone spiked her drink at the bar and taken her somewhere?

That possibility reminded Libby of her academy training. The cases were always similar: Woman parties at bar, gets drugged and taken to the perpetrator's hideout… But there was no soreness between her legs. She hadn't been violated. At least not this way… But her throat felt fine too. Then again, her whole body felt kind of numb. A new realization interrupted her train of thought: In her mind, that woman at the bar was some anonymous, theoretical victim she was meant to protect. Now, that Libby instead paid attention to her own naked body, her abstract training instructions met reality in a disjunction of anxiety. Slowly, her eyes adapted to the gloom. Flowing lines appeared and formed patterns of moist reflective, surfaces.

She tried to stay calm, to figure out where exactly she was: Leaning against the wall of a large, circular chamber weakly lit by a surreal bioluminescence she now started to perceive as bluish green. Only it was no chamber: Every surface was glistening like wet skin, translucent even at some places, and fine purple veins spread through the floors and walls. The ceiling looked like a giant mushroom's head viewed from below, lamellae spanning from the outer walls to the center, where what looked like large eggs lined the slimy ground around a mushroom stem like pillar. And everything seemed to be breathing somehow, pulsing in a slow rhythm, like a giant organism. While all of this was disturbing, it played but the smallest role in Libby's discomfort. The actual horror emerged from the sight of all the other women and girls around her, arranged in a large circle in alcoves along the outer wall. Most of them looked younger than Libby's twenty-four years, and none much older. All of them were naked, their arms and legs held in place by what looked like tentacles growing from the organic walls of their prison. A few were moaning, a few sobbing, the tears of some ran in silent fear. Most were still unconscious. Maybe because of her training, maybe just to stay ahead of her growing dread, Libby counted them: two dozen young women, all off them bound, all of them naked.
With quite some effort, her head was all that she was able to move. She felt the warm, moist wall pressing against the skin of her back as well as the rigid tentacles that bound her arms and legs in a degrading X-pose. And while Libby's sense of touch seemed fine, her ability to move was not. The tentacles holding her in place appeared weak enough for a physically fit girl like her to rip free, but when she tried to do just that, her limbs only answered with a slight tingling sensation. Another chill went down her spine as she realized that the women weren't simply bound to the wall. All of them, including herself, were being held in place, their limbs paralyzed. She felt even more violated at the powerlessness.

"Hello?" Only when the wispy voice broke it, Libby realized how pressing the silence had been so far.

Libby whispered an answer and found her jaw to move sluggish at first: "Yes, I hear you".


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Flesh sculptor

Fair-skinned slender woman, sunk deep into a soft black couch, clenching a piece of paper in her hand. olden wavey curls, harmonized perfectly with a red dress, gently flowed down her shoulders. Even pantry is probably luxurious in this place, she thought. Paintings hang from the walls depicted vaguely erotic scenes. Clock quietly counted seconds in hypnotic rhythm. If everything will go smoothly, this clock might be counting last minutes of her life, woman thought. Her hole career of an actress, a singer, splendor of high society and croud calling her name - Virginia, all of it secretly was leading to this moment. She once again unfolded the paper and looked at it. She had a goosebumps every time she read those big calligraphic words.

"Want to donate your body to art? Leonard Luther, sculptor of flesh, will make your beauty eternal with power of dollmaking."

Suddenly, her thoughts was interrupted by opened door. Fancy dressed secretary invited Virginia in. She nodded and walked through the door. After a short corridor she entered small cabinet, almost too modest compared to the rest of the mansion.

"Virgina, I presume? I can't say I'm a fan of your music, but I enjoy your movies." Young but dandy man behind the table looked up at Virginia.

"Thank you, sir. And you… must be Leonard?"

"I am." He stood up and admired Virginia's body. He looked as if through clothes, seeing every curve and unevenness. "You're here to…"

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i look for two stories that i cant find anymore
can you upload them plz if you have them plz
But why me mommy?
A psychopath and his toys
thx

Reposted by request. I might go back and add more if I feel like it, but for now here's what was in the thread before.
The Business Trip
Day 1
“Welcome to Risa 12.1, one of the shining jewels of the Risa system! Here you can find an introduction to what this beautiful moon has to offer as well as its rich history and culture.
History:
Risa 12.1 was actually colonized long before its sister world Risa 9, but in our case the world didn’t really open up to tourism on a large scale until much more recently. It was first settled 200 years ago by what is technically a cult, founded upon a belief that many of the modern world’s problems come from humans’ isolation of themselves from our world through covering up our bodies, especially the parts which would contact it most intimately - the feet.
The settlers developed a belief system centered around finding happiness in the world and in each other through going barefoot, and as is often the case with small societies, to protect their beliefs they grew more radical over time. Before long they had reached a point where all members had both of their arms removed at the shoulder in order to maximize the interactions of their feet with the world and with each other, a tradition which has been proudly continued on Risa 12.1 to this day.
For a while, the unusual policies of our founders largely minimized interest in tourism, but after Risa 9’s re-terraforming to make it into the beach world it is now, the entire Risa system received renewed attention from the travel industry, and now 12.1 has become nearly as popular a destination itself.
Culture:
As you most likely are aware, all residents born on Risa 12.1 have their arms removed at birth, and all immigrants are required to submit to a double shoulder disarticulation on arrival, coupled with a NanoBlock injection. In recent decades, the rules have been relaxed somewhat, and visitors are allowed to wear a pair of cybernetic arms, although you’ll likely find little use for them during your stay!
Shoes do not exist on Risa 12.1, and consequently for the duration of your visit we strongly encourage you to follow suit and keep your feet bare. Don’t worry about this, as heated floors and clean, plush carpets await you everywhere you go.
It may seem odd at first, but 12.1’s barefoot policies have been shown through professional studies to have contributed vitally to its present happy and peaceful culture. People on the moon have some of the strongest and happiest relationships anywhere in the known universe: they communicate better, work better together, and rarely have fights or fallings out. This is both due to the psychological benefits of constantly touching and sensing the outside world and the increased incentive for teamwork and trust among people who go barefoot together and lack the unnecessary convenience of hands. We’re confident that after a few days here, you’ll agree!
Attractions:

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Honestly the sheer lack of guro literature around the Islamic tradition is bothering me, and since Eid aka Islamic sacrifice holiday is now here I decided to write one. Heads up this is my first attempt at writing.