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=




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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.

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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.


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"…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!"

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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

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She began to internalize that she was less than a human being after her arms and feet were amputated, after her tongue-tip piercing was welded to a plate screwed into her palate behind her teeth, after her mouth was sewn and glued permanently shut, after the hinge of her jaw was fused, after her vocal cords were removed. The young girl could not communicate. She was a thing. Over time she began to feel like a thing. She stopped making eye contact with people, because their eyes passed over hers.

Most of the time her fragile neck was chained and padlocked to a steel bar in a room at the back of the warehouse. People came and went, visiting the boss, hardly glancing at the bald little teenager curled up naked in the corner with a lifeless expression on her cute, childlike face. She was old news now. The daughter of his dead enemy. She was slumped against the wall with her cheek smooshed into the wallpaper and her legs folded to her chest so her thighs and butt looked like a peach. Bored and shivering in the cold.

Sometimes the boss stayed behind at night when everyone else left. He went to her, cupped her little chin, squished her cheeks, watched the dull eyes rise to meet his with only a faint spark of defiance left in them. He would unchain her slender, bruised neck from the wall, help her stand on her stumps, lead the shivering girl down the dark hallway to a different room.

He would hold her steady in front of a full-length mirror, run his huge, rough hands along her naked body and whisper "Look at yourself." The little girl would gasp and sigh and moisten despite herself, which was always very humiliating for her. She'd been raped many times as a child and now responded to threatening sexual touches with unwilling, traumatic arousal. (Raped by teachers and relatives, but never her father)

Her little face flushed hot. She swayed. She breathed hard and gulped as he touched her soft, vulnerable young body. She'd have moaned if her vocal cords still worked. In the mirror before her, an emaciated husk of a girl. Protruding ribs and hips. Hopeless eyes, someone no longer alive but merely waiting for death. Not a hair or eyelash growing anywhere on her.

His hand slid down her taught belly to her vagina. She leaned into his hand, pushed her genitals against him, closed her eyes and began to grind her pussy into his palm. The folds of her little flower dripping wet and slipping along the ridges of his fingers. The experienced older man curled two of his thick fingers into her, up against her g-spot. His other hand on her belly.

He fucked her. She lolled her pretty head back and let him fuck her, the man's aggressive strength lifting her little body sometimes, his stubbled cheek pressed into the soft curve of her neck more for grip than intimacy. Her fragile body was enveloped by his.

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Ok… i have a thing for hoodies


Of a certain shape and design and form


Of many kinds too

Like
Alot….i want to contain em all in a thing so they look and feel all the great… how do i write?

Not just guro but slimes too…
Cuz… multiple use?

I’m going to start an archive of all my stories. I have several and I will try to keep this updated.


Kate and her sister Carmen were both in their early twenties. They were on a mission trip to Guatemala with their local church. Both were very religious and virgins. Kate was 24 and of obvious Irish descent. She was 5’4 with wide hips and a small curve to her belly. She had pale white skin and huge bright blue eyes. Her natural hair color was a light brown but died her stomach length hair a dark black. She had nice bangs that came across her forehead like a curtain. Carmen was 22 and of sportier build. She was 5’6 with narrow hips and dirty blonde hair. She shared the blue eyes. Her breasts were large D’s and had caused her back problems even at her young age. Both of the belly buttons were low on their bellies.

They were riding in a ratty old Toyota pickup from the church area to a small village nearby to deliver food. They were with two Guatemalan guides and a youth pastor. The rest of the group was already at the village. They were straggling behind.

The truck slowed as a cow blocked the narrow jungle road. Suddenly there was a commotion and several armed cartel members swarmed the truck. Only one of them spoke English.

“Get your hands up and look down!” He yelled at the girls.

The men snatched the youth pastor and drivers. They told the drivers to leave. They quickly scampered into the woods. The English speaking one went up to the youth pastor with a 1911 in his hand and asked him if he had any money or if he could get a ransom for the girls.


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any zine to latch on?

So, I will be writing this off and on.

Once one girl is dead, another girl will be brought in for the slaughter. There is always extra ways to get into the story (such as google pics of the girls themselves, I can't post them on here, but you can email if you're curious to see the pics I use to base these girls on at [email protected])

and here... we... go...


Stephanie and her minion waited patiently in the dungeon for their first victim to enter. Stephanie was in her mid to late 20's. She was short and petite, with short black hair and deep brown eyes. She was in a leather corset, fishnet stalkings and black thigh high boots.

Her minion was the complete visual opposite of her, which was only to be expected considering he was a demon. He was easily over 8 feet tall and weighed at least 500 pounds of solid muscle. He grinned at Stephanie, showing his long white fang like teeth, as a glitter in his black void eyes seemed to shine. His body was sleek yet greasy body, except for the sharp, dark, bristly hair that covered his naked nether region which boasted an impressive 9 inch unhardened cock.

"Patience minion... Patience... Our first girl will be coming soon" Stephanie said stroking her minions arm while awaiting their first victim. It wasn't more than a minute when the door opened and 19 yearold Lacy was pushed in with her hands handcuffed behind her back.


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i'm looking for a story i read on gurochan archive long time ago. the story is like this: a girl named aoeba sasha are going to school, suddenly she got attacked by tentacles comming from bushess. later, she got her leg cut off and then she dies at the end of the stories. anybody remember about this story ?

This one's a commission - if you want one, send me a message at the email attached to the post. The queue's pretty long at this point, though :/
This story was uploaded a week earlier to my Patreon! https://www.patreon.com/FEH_TGE

The Tragic End of Captain Marvel
Tags: non-con, M/F, rape, large insertion, torture


Growing up, Xaemar was somewhat idealistic. Being fed many a tale about the galaxy’s many heroes, he truly believed in them. That belief only grew even stronger when he witnessed one of them in action firsthand. Captain Marvel had come to save his homeworld from a galactic invasion. Before leaving, Carol Danvers had left some of his people with a communicator they could use if they ever needed the help from her again - a memory which he never forgot either.

When the Snap came, Xaemar’s planet, Damara, had descended into chaos. With half of the population gone, the society has collapsed. Very quickly, the confused, enraged people had turned to riots - only bringing the death toll even further up. Among this, Xaemar did his best to care for his younger sister, Damota - their parents gone with the Snap. Still, running from one hideout to another while trying to avoid the crazed crowds, Xaemar had remembered of the device he had seen those years ago. Surely, Captain Marvel would be able to set things right again? B-bring back all the people they had lost… Or - if that wasn’t possible - at least some kind of order to the planet?

Finding where the s.o.s. device had ended up wasn’t easy - but eventually, Xaemar managed to do it. Turning the device on gave him a true ray of hope, something to look forward to. The marvelous blonde woman in the blue who had saved all of them… She’d come back to them to save them once more! It was just a matter of time… A few days, at most! There was no response from the device, but that didn’t bother Xaemar - the man entirely certain that Captain Marvel would come to their aid, unaware that the device failed to reach the woman who left it there.


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Demise of a Princess
Tags:Beheading, Public Execution
===============================


The door of the black maria opens. A beautiful young girl is pulled out.
The girl's face is upset and her eyes are dull, but that doesn't affect her beautiful face under long amber hair. She looks like a princess in a fairy tale. Through a rough cotton dress, people still vaguely see the graceful figure formed by dance training, especially the chest with just right size, which seems firmer because of the hands bind backwards. The two protruding points of the chest and the line in the center of her round buttocks, she is as pure and attractive as an elf. Men around eye on her, and swallows.

This is a rare sight in this conservative country. The crowd burst into cheers. It's only 9 a.m., but people have crowded this square in the center of Hdayir. They came to see this rich young girl who once could only be seen in magazines, dressing in gorgeous dresses and glamour. In the middle of the square are several prison vans. Guards armed with guns surround the girl in the center. Opposite her are several local officials, and a reporter with a camera, transmitting real time video to the world.

The girl's name is Anniebelle. Only 20 years old, she is the heir of Ryan family, a military industry giant in the United Provinces. She was sent to the Middle East two years ago as general manager of the local branch, preparing to take over the family business in the future. As a young and beautiful girl from a top family, she soon got fame in the Royal and aristocratic dances balls and achieved several big deals. But a year ago she got a little trouble. The local military tracked a large number of data packets being sent to the servers in the hostile country and then learned that, the "expensive original United Provinces chips " purchased from her were polished cheap chips from other countries, and obviously with back doors on. Memory chips, display screen and other equipments have also been replaced by cheap trash. The advertised high performance was never met. The Mideast country was furious. Anniebelle just went in. Nevertheless, she was bailed after several month’s efforts from the Foreign Ministry. Then she was put under house arrest in a 2150 square meter house on the outskirts of Hdayir, where she spent her days on drawing pictures and writing poems.

However, a month ago, several scandals set off in the headquarters of the company. Although the public relations department immediately ordered websites to delete posts after posts, and waged propaganda campaigns after campaigns, it didn’t work. Soon the domestic netizens got enraged too, and the president tweeted that he would no longer spend any precious diplomatic resources on the case of the Ryans. A few days later, Anniebelle was carried like a chicken back out of her cold and humid mansion, into a spring-like warm prison cell. And after a brief trial, she comes to the square..

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“Hi Chief!”

“There you are. Fusion chamber's gone out again. I need you to go in there and restart it.”

“Oh. Okay! Didn't Capri restart it yesterday?”

“She did, and now it's gone out again.”

“Why's it gone out again?”

Chief Aimee-3364641 gave her junior counterpart an impatient look. Emily-51561497 was just a farmgirl, expendable. Maybe if she'd done three tours like Aimee and made reactor chief she'd be a little bit more important but… well, she hadn't.

“Figuring that out is MY job” she reminded the ditzy blonde junior engineer. “Which I can't DO because we don't have MAIN POWER because, I repeat, the fusion chamber's gone out so I need YOU, to go in THERE, and RESTART it! Or is that too hard for your dumb whore brain to figure out?”

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