Ideas for future stories

One creative person advised another creative person to write down story ideas so they wouldn't get lost. That is something I should consider doing, too.

Here, just like my fellow author, I will record my ideas for future stories.

The focus will largely be on how the future world of Dolcett might have come into being.

A future that might not be so far off after all—possibly.

Is there any chance somebody has collection of old beastforum stories. I know ... but this place (almost) only one to ask for.

Chapter 1: The Oink That Binds

The fluorescent lights of the her Middle School Clinic buzzed overhead, casting everything in that familiar clinical glow. Jenny sat on the exam table, the paper crinkling beneath her as she swung her legs nervously. She was a blue eyed, redheaded, freckle face cutie with braided pigtails, and of course completely lost.
Ms. Baker, the campus nurse, studied her from across the room. The woman had to be in her early forties, with auburn hair pinned back and reading glasses perched on her nose. Her white coat was immaculate, her posture perfect. Everything about her projected calm authority.
"So, Jenny," Ms. Baker said, tapping her pen against her clipboard. "You've been having trouble with identity issues. Feeling like you don't know who you are. Disconnected from your own thoughts."
Jenny nodded miserably. "It's like I'm watching myself from the outside. Nothing feels real. My Gym Coach said you might have a... a special program?"
Ms. Baker smiled. It was a warm smile. Reassuring. "Yes. We call it Animal Farm. It's experimental, but I've seen remarkable results." She set down her clipboard and stepped closer. "The idea is simple. When we strip away the expectations, the anxiety, the constant overthinking—what remains is something pure. Something uncomplicated."
"Like... therapy?"
"In a way." Ms. Baker's eyes met hers. "Tell me, Jenny. Have you ever wished you could just stop thinking? Stop worrying about who you're supposed to be?"
"God, yes. Every day."
Ms. Baker nodded slowly. She pulled a small pendulum from her coat pocket—a smooth silver disc on a delicate chain. Jenny watched it catch the light.
"Then let's try something," Ms. Baker said, her voice dropping into something softer. "I want you to focus on this pendulum. Just watch it swing. Back and forth. Back and forth."
The disc moved in lazy arcs. Jenny's eyes followed it automatically.

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(shota)

I'll be uploading some short action scenes featuring boys meeting their end in violent and degrading ways. Some will involve false hope and other psychological elements. There won't be sexual content.

I'm new to writing this kind of thing, so comments and feedback would be greatly appreciated!

These are unrealistic fetish stories. Real boys are awesome and could win any fair fight against girls their age. Don't take these stories too seriously. Now let's kill our first bastard.

Death Battle
The boy lunges forward with his arms outstretched. He wants to finish this quickly. The girl raises her arms and jumps back a few paces. It's enough to evade his clumsy tackle. She swats at his face to keep him at a distance but her half-assed attempt goes nowhere. The two now face each other down, the boy moving forward and the girl moving backward. They are both frightened, but trying to hide it from their opponent. Their lack of fighting experience is obvious but they both know that this is a death battle.

Multiple missed opportunities on both sides later, he charges again, this time toppling her onto her back. The impact drives the air from her lungs. She yelps, wasting precious oxygen, as she realizes she cannot get him off her.


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>> I want to know what stories would be most enjoyed by the current crowd. Rather than split this on /dis/ I've supplied a short story to get you thinking followed by the survey.
>> I might also fill some short requests here too.

Hello darling, you can call me Quinn for now. Is this your first time visiting? Here at Club GC we aim to make every fantasy come true. Do you like my outfit, it's awfully sexy don't you think? But maybe you'd like something a little bit more specific. That's the beauty of this place because in just the blink of an eye we can change things to suit your whims. Consider it like a movie but you get to be in the director's chair.

Ooh, you are a naughty one! I've never thought about dressing up like this before, it looks so good on me, and so many scandalous implications. Oh please love, don't be embarrassed about it. We enjoy catering to all interests, especially those not permitted by polite society, and we take your anonymity very seriously. Now while I take this off maybe we can get more intimately acquainted.

Do you like what you see? Maybe you'd like my boobs to be a bit bigger, is that better? I think they could be perkier too, just like this. So what's your preference: blonde, brunette, or perhaps a fiery redhead? All options are open no matter how exotic your tastes are. As you see honored guest, I can even be a tender eastern flower if that is what you desire... or maybe you is juts wantin' some chocolate love with a fine ass. But please don't limit yourself to the expensive things you can already 'ave at anothair establishment, zére aré no taboos inside le Club GC.

Surprise! Did you know I can turn into a widdle girl too? My mommy and daddy aren't here but I'll be safe with you, right? I promise I'll be good and do everything you say and I'm really cute and I know all my ABZs and I love ponies. Would you say yes if I show you my pee-pee? It feels real funny if I rub it and I heard there's this game where you stick things inside and sometimes you can make a baby. Will you play it with me, pleassssse!

But, um, I don't even need to be a girl. I mean my friend dared me to wear a pink bow in my hair at recess so I looked like one, but- but that was only so I could have his pudding cup. I'm definitely a boy and I've got a d-dick and it's practically as long as my finger now and sometimes it's stiff in the morning and there's clear stuff coming out. You know I can also beat a bunch of kids in my class at arm wrestling so just because I'm still small and skinny doesn't mean I'm not strong!


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==THE SPLATTER FACTORY==

This is a substantial(ish) re-write of my debut work, 'The Death Factory'.

It features the rape, torture and mechanized slaughter (sometimes all at the same time) of pretty young women and girls (ages 8+) in a modern, custom-built dungeon. You can look forward to mashed and crushed bodies, liquidized innards, snapped limbs, fountains of blood and fabulous screams. Also drilling, sawing, slicing, tearing apart, mangling, shredding and squishing. Especially squishing. Also, there is some incidental scat, psychological torment, and just enough plot to hold it all together and hopefully create some tension. There's a bit of humour too.

I'm sorry I've been away so long. Personal circumstances and lack of internet being the main reasons. At the time of writing, reports of my death are greatly exaggerated.

I got tired of writing too. So I left it on the back-burner for 6 months, until I started to even forget what I'd written.

Then I re-read it. Parts that I previously thought were good now seemed less so. And the last chapter, 17, was *really bad*. So I thought I might as well start over and rework the whole thing.

It's the same story. Same basic plot, characters and machines. So what has changed?

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I am accepting story requests for the following games/fandoms: Undertale/Deltarune, Five Nights at Freddy's, Fortnite, DDLC and Marvel/Dc.

It is negotiable if you want a story from a different game/fandom but it has to be one with a lack of guro material.

The fetishes I will not write are: Vore, scat and cannibalism of any kind. If you have a question regarding other things not listed here feel free to ask.

The Dark Secrets of Celantanis – A Collection of Stories About Cannibalism

Information and Introduction

The stories I am publishing here deal with the subject of cannibalism while incorporating elements of fetishism.
They span various genres—from comedy to adventure—and offer realistic depictions of mythical elements.

At the heart of my stories lies a nation that was the first to legalize the cannibalistic traditions
of various splinter groups from religious communities, yet attempts to keep this practice secret from the rest of the world.
The state’s founding has diverse origins, and the territory is divided into two distinct regions:
North Coast Land and Celantanis. North Coast Land is the highly technological and dominant part of the country,
while Celantanis represents its cultural heart. The two regions have never agreed on a shared name.


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(this is on going. mind my fetish)

It happened once a year for 3 days and was known as "the best place to be" for those 3 days. Which was true, if you were one of the lucky 1000 men invited that
is. It was created 10 years ago when it was decided that lonely men needed a way to let out their frustration and sexual desires without consequences which led
to the first female president, President Davena Guro, creating "Rape/Torture Fest Island". A simple name but very to the point.
Once a year, for 3 days, 1000 single men of all ages and backgrounds would be flown to an island and given free reign to rape, torture, murder any girl on the island
during those 3 days. Indeed, those 1000 men were very lucky. As for the 3000 girls who were randomly chosen as victims and were kidnapped and taken to the island by
force. They werent so lucky.

The men just had to be single and lonely to qualify, while the girls on the other hand had much stricter regulations. The girl had to be between ages 14-19, physically
fit, considered pretty to most men and most importantly, she had to have a bra size between a 34c-36dd, although some smaller sizes were added just for varities sake.

The girls who were unfourtunately chosen, were volunteered by their parents or guardians, and in return their parents or guardians would recieve a check for 10,000

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You have an idea for a story, but don't feel like you'll be able to write it by yourself? Dump it in this thread.

You want to write something, but don't know what? Dig through this thread and maybe you'll find some inspiration.

Like the 100 word thread but you can play around with 250 words.

I’m creating this thread to list possible story I have popping in my head, a friendly soul suggest I jot them down.

I’ll add to the thread possible stories Ideas that come to mind.

I’ll some more story ideas as I go along. If any of these cannibal themes sound good and worth exploring let me know.

I’m open for ideas as well, what do you desire? What gets you going? What gets you off.

I can’t promise all these stories will be consensual. But I’ll handle it with kids gloves. I’m an 8 to 80 type of cannibal. Give or take 5 years. ;)

Peace

(This is a sequel to "Boy Barbecue" but can hopefully be enjoyed on its own too)

Four Weeks Notice
By
Edward Hyde
Having worked over the weekend, Mollie had Monday off but on Tuesday morning she arrived at work and greeted Gina at reception then went to the small admin office she shared with four of the other senior caterers, all of whom were older than her but they all got on very well, two men and two women. First she checked her emails, seeing a thank you message from her client Janice saying how much her daughter Megan had enjoyed the Sidney party on Saturday and how much the whole family was looking forward to the Anniversary party at the upcoming weekend where their daughter where Mollie would be in charge of roasting Megan herself. The pretty, busty red-head in her early twenties smiled and dashed off a quick reply before seeing what else was waiting in her inbox. There were a number of receipts from suppliers and responses to invoices and quotes as well as a few internal memoranda and bits of general trade news but amongst the twenty or so unread emails that had accumulated on her day off were six enquiries about joining the company’s inventory, four of which were from girls who had been at the party, three requests for service-only quotes where the meat would be provided on site and the one she had really been looking for – an email from Courtney, the sweet, chubby blonde from the party who had been interested in having Mollie herself for her birthday dinner!

The company Mollie worked for, SB Catering, originally established in Edinburgh but now with branches all over the Britain, offered two primary services, both of which had two sub-variants. The first was to provide a cooked boy, girl, man or woman for a party, depending on the needs and desires of the client, and these could either be cooked on site or prepared fully at their facility where her office was located and delivered to the venue in one of their special heat-preserving containers, ready to serve upon arrival. For these jobs, the company kept a database, known as the Inventory, of volunteers who would be matched with the job profile based on information provided by the client who, once the volunteer had agreed to the purchased and confirmed their availability, would be sent a file on the selected meat-person, containing their photographs and relevant statistics but no identifying information. Incidents in the past had shown them that it was better to save any personal introductions until the event itself.

The other service they offered was to cook a person provided by the client, usually a family member such as in Megan’s case or someone who had been arranged privately like Timothy. This option was especially popular for weddings where the bulk of the food nearly always came from within the wedding party and were family and friends of the couple. As with the full service options, the meat could be prepared on site or delivered ready to cook.

Unable to help wriggling a little in her seat, Mollie opened the email from Courtney. It was not a formal application or enquiry, just a short message confirming that she was definitely interested and that her parents were open to the idea, depending on cost, and asking what the next steps would be. Biting her lower lip, Mollie replied explaining that she would send a formal quote later that morning and asking the teen to confirm the date and location of the party, also whether they wanted the meat delivered ready to serve or cooked on site and, if so, by which method. She was almost certain that Courtney and her brother would want to watch her roasting alive on a spit but she needed to ask. If she did not get a reply by the time she was typing up the quote, she reasoned, she could just send both options. She had not mentioned this particular conversation to her co-workers on their drive back to base after the party on Saturday, wanting to keep it to herself until a slightly more concrete arrangement was made. If Courtney and her family accepted the quote, she decided, she would make an announcement to everyone at the same time but, for the moment, it remained just a hypothetical and her own delicious secret!


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Long time ago at old gurochan there somebody posted link to download Dantes story archive (actually 2 archives). Does still somebody have these stories/archives to share with us others?

This is a very hardcore ai assisted written story loosely based on the legend of korra story with story additions and replacements for scenes I couldn't figure out. I am already in season 2 but this is my first post here starting in season 1.

[Hardvore] [willing] [Regeneration] [Underage]

The snow had already begun soaking through Korra's bare feet when the fire came.

Not from her—not yet. From the White Lotus compound's braziers, iron bowls spitting orange into the grey morning, the heat licking at the cold in a war neither would win. Steam rose off the nearby hot springs, thick and sulfurous, and somewhere in that steam a man was chewing. She could hear his jaw working, could hear the wet grind of molars through meat.

A gout of flame erupted from her fist—condensed, controlled, the blue-white core of it scorching the air into a rippling wound—and as the flame hung there, sustained, she felt the first teeth sink into the meat of her shoulder.

The man had come from her left. She'd heard his boots crunch snow, had felt the displacement of air as he leaned in, had known exactly when his mouth would open. Still, the pain was a white sheet dropped over her mind. Her flame guttered. One heartbeat. Two. Then she forced it steady again, forced her breath to stay even, forced the fire to burn hotter as his teeth tore a strip of deltoid free and she felt her blood—hot, too hot—spill down her arm and drip from her fingertips into the snow.

"Harder," she said.

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