I witnessed what I had done, and my mind raced, thinking about the luxuries that were coming next. In that tiny cinder block room a smell of mildew and damp air filled my lungs. A single wired light bulb hung from the ceiling, right in between us. It illuminated the room with a yellow tinted glow, I saw the bright light reflect off her beautiful pale skin. She had pretty hazel eyes and dark black hair. She sat in a cold metal chair neatly placed in the dead center of the room. She was striped of all her clothes down to her bra and underwear. Her wrists and feet were bound to the chair with neon green wire ties. Her hands red from her struggling and the shear snugness of the bands. I walked around the room and watched as she shook and twitched with every step I made, every breath I took. I don't think I've ever seen a person in such a scared and animalistic state. I pulled her face close to mine with my hand underneath her chin, and stared at her. A single tear rolled down her face washing away some of her cute black eyeliner. I didn't say a word. I just stepped back and I turned around to face the direction she was looking. The wall had a complete assortment of power-tools and other violent instruments. Knives, saws, and power drills with VERY large bits. This is going to be worth the effort I thought to myself, quite pleased. I grabbed a dental pick and a block of rubber from the cart next to her chair. I hooked the pick into her bottom lip and whispered in her ear “open up”. She didn’t listen. I grabbed the top of her head and bashed it into the back of the metal chair. This time in a more aggressive almost screaming voice I said again “Open up”. I forced the dental pick downward pushing it into her lip. She gave way with a short gasp of pain. I grabbed the block and forced it into her mouse. I held the palm of my hand against it and kept pressure down on it. I grabbed an Exacto-knife off my cart and she began to squirm and shake her head violently. I grabbed the knife placing my fingers close to the tip and pushed it into the side of her lip. Cutting it as if it was some dotted line. Her muffled cries gave me a tingling feeling in my chest, the thought of her pain, I loved it and I wanted more. The tears started, Her face was covered in wet eyeliner and I heard her breathing get faster. She was trying to cope but it was too intense. The room was so secluded and so quite I could hear her racing heart as well as my own, this was my first time doing this a

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There was a lot of art with rei, and sakura the cardcaptor guro. Anyone know what happened to it?

As Jon rode out to the lands beyond the wall, he finally felt at peace with himself sinc- suddenly Tormund tackled him to the ground! "Tormund-kun what are you doing?" asked Jon winkily "IM GONNA FOOKING RAYPE YA JON!" replied Tormund sexily. "Oh my" Jon flirtifly yelled as he unzipped his skin, essentially leaving a meat body, Tormund then yelled "FOOK YA!!!" before he began tap dancing while slapping his ass the same time when Stannis came out of nowhere! "I thought you died in season five, Stannis-kun" Jon asked, "I did but since DnD are hacks, I got resurrected" Stannis replied grumpily. Ghost then approached the group "yo yo yo, ma nigga (pls dont ban me mods), wassup ya doing" asked Ghost who now identified as a female because empowerment and sheet. It was at this moment, the main threat of this story revealed itself, Theon's dick! Yes, after Theon's dick got tragically separated from its master, it went through a self discovering journey to reunite with its master but then Theon died and got raped (shown off screen because of political correctness) at the cold hands of the Night King. "Come on guys, we've got to suck on Theon's dick if the Seven Kingdoms is to survive" Stannis declared, "Oooh Stannis-kun, you were always my favorite, if you were still alive in Season 6, then you could have defeated the Bolton army in just one episod- oh wait" Jon pondered. Soon all the characters from every episode (yes even that little girl who got killed by the dragon) was summoned to suck on Theon's dick, the toxic cum was too much for every character do Azor Ahai sacrificed himself to take all the cum to himself so no one else would have to. Through all this, Bran was sitting on the reforged iron throne masturbating at the whole event "fuck yes! Fuck Yes! Fuck YES!". Meanwhile, in the real world George R.R. Martin was masturbating writing this fanfic instead of writing for Winds of Winter, " Fuck yeah, Im rich because of the show, what's the point anyway except for eating and having sex" Martin said greedily "I think that's a wonderful philosophy dear" Neil Gaiman said beside him at the bed, jerking George's dick gracefully.

amen, Amen, AMEN!

As promised nearly a year ago, here's some smut set in the For Honor universe. Might continue this story, or just do a bunch of oneshots. Oh, and feel free to add your own stuff if you get bored of waiting on me.

Peacekeeping

The sun was scarce that day, a mere suggestion behind a blanket of gently weeping clouds. The sparse light it provided was pale and uniform, sufficient to see by, but little more. This dreary light picked out a figure clad in monastic robes and metallic armor, armed with a single large shield paired with a wicked looking blade of mirror-polished steel.

The man rested easily on the ramparts of a mostly intact and utterly oversized fortress city. It was the size of a small mountain, and a hallowed symbol of the once insurmountable might of Ashfeld’s legions. Towers lanced into the clouds, keeps rose like cliff faces, and walls loomed proud and unbroken by time or siege.

The figure in robes and steel smiled, as if he couldn’t help being awestruck by the grandeur of it all, though he was clearly being careful not to let the emotion go beyond a grin. With hooded eyes and upturned lips, he surveyed the garrison which manned the sweeping battlements.

Pallid sunlight revealed crossbowmen in their hundreds, lining walls and towers until the entire castle seemed to bristle with them. A score of officers drilled rank upon rank of men-at-arms in the vast courtyard below, taking the lads through formations and tactics. There was an air of urgency to their movements. The battle was coming, and sooner than they’d have liked.

The rough sound of a throat being cleared shook the man from his reverie.

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This is actually one of my favorite Fetishes. This is also the first time I had ever wrote a story like this, so please don't be upset with how it's written!

Callie Trishtan walked into the office of one Miss Victoria Bradshaw. Callie was a lovely woman, dark, mocha skin, with long black hair, though it was up in a bun at this time. She had a lovely, curvy body, though it was hidden under a grey suit, and wore black heels. She looked around the tastefully done decor with her greyish blue eyes, and waited for Victoria to speak.

Victoria had lovely, milky white skin, and long, chocolate brown hair that went right past her hips, and looked like a waterfall that flowed around her. She looked at her with her deep green eyes, and smiled with her ruby lips. She wore a pink blouse, with a black skirt that went just a bit above her knees, but she wore red sneakers. Along with a white coat most people would wear at farms and factories like this.


“So, would you like a bit of water?” Victoria asked her.

Callie wanted to refuse, but it did feel rather hot in that room. “Yes, I would love some.”

Victoria got her secretary to get her one glass. “So, you want a tour of my farm?”


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Birthday Request

A boy finds out that his sister wants something a little unusual from him for her birthday.

F/m, CBT, Penectomy, Castration, Cannibalism, Reluctant, Casual, Orgasm Control and Denial, Incest

"Mom?" he asked, as he poked his head around the door frame and looked into the kitchen and dining room.

"Yes, dear..?" his mother replied distractedly, as she moved before the oven, back and forth between simmering pots and sizzling pans.

"Umm.." he said, his voice low as he bit his bottom lip in apparent worry. "..I know you're busy with dinner, but could you.. uh.."

"Don't mumble, Jeffery." his mother instructed absently, with a glance and frown at her son.

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Arriving home from school, Adam walked into the front door of his house, dropping his backpack off by the living room couch before going to the kitchen in search of an afternoon snack.

He was alone in the house, both his parents worked and his two younger siblings still attended junior high and wouldn’t be home for at least another forty-five minutes.

After staring into the open refrigerator for several seconds the sixteen year-old suddenly realized exactly what he wanted. Getting one could be hard though, it wasn’t the kind of thing that just got left in the back of the fridge.

Adam was just about to settle for a bologna and cheese sandwich instead when a second realization hit him. He knew exactly where he got get one.

Shaking his head at his own slowness Adam went around the kitchen retrieving a cutting board and a knife.

Placing them on the small table in the corner of the kitchen Adam kicked of his shoes, then striped off his jeans and boxers as well. Ignoring his socks Adam leaned on the table with his left hand while reaching down with his right to… prepare his meal.

Adam let out a satisfied sigh as he stroked his cock, enjoying the pleasure of his manhood for the last time. His penis soon responded to his ministrations, stiffening and lengthening in his grasp.

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This is relatively lightcore for my typical shit. The following is fiction and not intended to condone violence against children nor sexual offenses, and is intended to be enjoyed from any angel (I know what I said).

Be wary, I make no promise to be good at his and construction (I know what I said) is welcome!

Part 1 _____________________________

I grew up with just my mom and 2 sisters, one older and one younger.

One night both my sisters wanted to have a sleepover. I didn't exactly get along with their friends, but some were very nice to me and even the least attractive were frankly gorgeous on a good day and on a bad day well, one shorter chubbier girl, seemed particularly nice to me after I was extra nice to her when she sleptover a month prior and got sick… Her face has been swollen and she cried to her friend but to me later insisted she was fine. The rest were mostly lean, a few scrawny- tho not as scrawny as me- with heavy boobs. It was a smorgasbord of favorite types. An eccentric emo girl and a punk las and some preppy chick who were all known to not get along sat in the same circle snacking with my older sister as my younger sister and her friends were all asleep.
I went off to bed seeing one of my younger sister's friends pass me. I heard her talking with the older girls as I slept.
I then had a strange dream.

Benjamin sat glum in the hospital bed from what had happened to him. The slim boy slumped just a week before his 13th birthday and had felt as if he lost the world lost everything in the world. Naked under his bed sheets, his big brown eyes were reddened with tears above his heavily freckled cheeks and button nose, all behind his fringe of curly, brown hair. Outside his hospital room he could see his mother and her wife through the window in the door thanking the doctor for her work in curing her son of his malady, the source of which was floating in a clear, sealed jar of formaldehyde held by his 17 year old step sister.


Just less than a year ago was when Ben learned of joys of masturbation. As all boys at that age, he noticed that his willy would get hard from time to time and that it felt could to rub it when it was in such a state. His large, brown eyes widened in fascination as he explored all four inches of his boyhood, from the emerging peach fuzz at its base up the veiny shaft, to half way up of which was the scar, to the tip crowned by a purple mushroom head. He became resourceful, slathering it in shampoo, lotion, butter or even his own spit at any opportunity to enjoy his own body.


This was also the time that Ben’s mother married a shapely brunet named Rebecca. Rebecca had a daughter, Stacy, who was 4 years his senior and was conceived amidst a brutal sexual assault. This rape in Rebecca’s past understandably traumatised her and lead her to distrust and hate all males. Unlike Rebecca, Stacey was bisexual rather than lesbian but had adopted many of her mother’s prejudices and though had some interest in male anatomy, hated the men that it was attached to.


Rebecca and her new wife were not subtle with there affections for each other, kissing and groping was a common occurrence in the household. While Benjamin’s mother was preoccupied with her new lover, Rebecca and Stacey gave poor Ben Hell. They would verbally abuse him, give him an unfair amount of chores, under feed him and isolate him from his mother. One of the tortures that he endured was were he to be caught masturbating, he was often punished profusely, being reminded of how filthy his habit was and even his mother was talked into taking punitive action, saying that if he was to misuse his willy that he did not deserve it.


However, due to his developing libido and his exposure to this lesbian behaviour fuelled his need for masturbate. Moreover, he found it a means of stress relief from the constant bullying. Whenever she could, Stacey would watch him stroke himself. She would watch his hand grip the four inches of ridged boyhood - the slick surface of the cleanly circumcised meat, the redness of his cheeks making his freckles more apparent, his lithe chest and flat belly rising and falling with the quickening pants: she watched the youth in shame for though she found him beautiful, he was a disgusting male.

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Not mine, just a repost of a missing thread



[Loke] The Hanging of a Sinner [2016]



”Come on, it’s time to go” the woman dressed in long black robes said to me. I was standing in the hallway of the most prestigious Christian private school for girls in the country, naked and with my hands bound behind my back. It was just before lunchtime and the hall should have been bustling with activity at this time, but today every student at the school had gathered in the courtyard for today’s very special event; my execution. I had committed one of the worst sins a girl at my age could commit, at least in the eyes of this extremely conservative school. I’d had sex before marriage, which was punishable by death. Of course I’d heard of many girls that had done it anyway, the only difference between them and me was that I was stupid enough to get caught. For me, it meant that at the age of fourteen, my life would shortly come to an end.



All the students stood along the walls of the main courtyard looking at the gallows that had been set up in the middle of it. It was late September and the autumn had made its appearance with a chilling wind and a light drizzle falling from the sky. As the cold rain hit my bare skin the nipples of my pert breasts stood at attention. Being naked in front of everybody made the situation worse and I felt myself blushing heavily. Even though I was freezing my face was bright red and I kept my gaze planted in the ground as I made my way to the centre of the courtyard. I didn’t see them, but I could feel everybody’s eyes staring at me, judging me as the sinner they thought I was.

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The Festival


Lou looked up over his textbook at his 16-year-old sister, Trine, who was kneeling on all fours on the table in front of him, shivering slightly as she was only wearing her panties. Her B-cup breasts hung down, gently trembling and her softly curvaceous thighs pickled with goosebumps in the chill of the kitchen.
Standing up, Lou approached his sister with a large flensing knife in hand. Their parents, Beth and John, watched with neutral expressions as he reached under her to grasp a nipple, pulling it taunt.
“First, she’s debreasted, with a pair of cuts here.”
Lou placed the knife against the underside of her breast and pulled it back with a clean slicing motion. He didn’t apply any pressure, leaving the skin unbroken. He walked around the table and repeated the process. Trine squeaked with protest as his careless stroke drew a little blood. Her mother curtly told her to be quiet whilst her brother was concentrating.
“Second, she’s gutted, with the long incision across the sternum.”
Lou poked a finger into Trine’s chest and located the bottom of her breast plate and then mimed stabbing up at her belly, tracing a thin line across it to her pubis whilst gripping her neck firmly with his left hand.
“Finally, the cunt fillet is removed.”
Lou moved behind Trine and pulled her panties down, exposing her pussy to the cool air and the watchful gaze of their parents. Lou placed the tip of the blade where her thigh met her crotch and made a twisting movement with his wrist, as if he were scooping out ice cream.
“Can I get down now?”
Trine asked in a plaintive tone, reaching back to try and pull up her underwear.

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The excited burble of the audience was audible even in the small backstage lounge. Mary Miller adjusted her skimpy black lace lingerie for the hundredth time that hour and looked at the mirror. The damned thing barely contained her sizable chest. She frowned. Of course, it was the same set she had bought 15 years ago when she first got married. Age and 3 children had added a few pounds to her curvaceous body. Mary flicked a stray bang of pink hair away from her glasses and struck a pose.

A sharp knocking on the door broke Mary out of her reverie. "Mrs. Miller? Its time for the show to start." It was a young woman's voice, perky and cheerful. The housewife breathed in, gathered her few remaining shreds of courage, stood up, and walked to the door. It opened, and her killer offered a hand. The girl (and she was a girl, being only 19 years old) was foot shorter than Mary, with an innocent freckled face, short cropped raven hair and round, inviting features. Mary shook her hand, feeling a bit disconcerted. The girl looked like she was barely out of highschool, yet she was one of the premier snuff show hosts in the country. It would be her hands that would be at the controls of the guillotine. The same soft, warm hands that reassuringly caressed Mary's hands.

"Is it okay if I call you Mary?", the girl asked softly. "Y-yes, sure", Mary answered, her voice tight with anxiety. The girl smiled and pulled her in closer. "It is absolutely okay to feel nervous about the show, but just try and keep it under control. The pay out will depend on your performance after all." She looked up at Mary. "So, if you want to cry, if you want to just let it all out, do it now. It will make it easier for us later." The housewife shook her head. "I'm fine", she lied. The girl nodded, then turned her back. "It's time to go", she said simply.

The pair walked out past the curtains and onto the stage. There were about a hundred extremely wealthy philanthropists in attendance, and most were eagerly looking forward to the show. Mary shivered, her skin crawling. All those eyes were admiring her voluptuous body like if it was a prime cut of beef at a butcher shop. They didn't care about the desperate circumstances that had forced Mary to sacrifice her life, they just wanted a half hours worth of sick thrills coated with a veneer of social justice.

The spotlights swirled around in a dance of light, before converging on a single spot on the center of the stage. A guillotine stood tall and proud. It was polished clean, every surface slick and glossy. The girl lead Mary over and the pair stood beside it. They both bowed towards the audience. A microphone (Where did she get that?, wondered Mary) was in the girls hands. She cleared her throat, and the small talk and chatter subsided.
"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. This is the 5th annual Charity Chop, where all of you wonderfully generous patrons and humanitarians give your hard earned money to a good cause, with the most generous having the honor of being Mrs. Mary Miller's last fuck!" The audience cheered and clapped, and Mary blushed. They hadn't told her there would be sex involved. The girl turned to Mary and shoved the mic in her face. "But first, lets hear what our brave snuff girl has to say!" For a moment, Mary was speechless. Then, she slowly began to speak. "T-thank you all for attending, and for giving my family a chance at a new life. I am extremely grateful, and I hope you enjoy the show."

The girl took back the mic. "Lets give it up for her folks, she's a brave woman and deserves our support!" The audience clapped and cheered. Mary smiled nervously and bowed once more. "Well, without further ado, lets get on with it." Slow, sensual music began to play from the overhead speakers, and the lighting dimmed until only three spotlights remained, one focusing on the guillotine, one focusing on the host girl, and one focusing n Mary as she began to move her wide hips languidly to the beat. Years ago, before the marriage and the children, she had been a stripclub dancer, and the moves were ingrained muscle memory. Now, she focused on those memories with grim determination, trying to devote every thought to the striptease rather than her upcoming death. With a flourish, she undid her bra and threw it to the side, letting her giant breasts wobble free. There was a whistle from the crowd, and she winked. "Alright, we've got our first bid, 100,000!" The girl shouted at the crowd. "200,000, 400,000!"


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MARIA’S DEMISE (A belly button story)

I’ve met Maria at the gym about a month ago, she’s a good looking brunette, average tall with bright green eyes. I’ve been spying on her since then, too shy to go and talk to her but too attracted to her body to not follow her every movement.
Maria’s life is apparently a normal one, she works as a barista, she goes to the gym she hangs out with her friends and she dates various guys.

One day I’ve managed to enter her apartment by disguising myself as a gas technician and install a remote camera in her bedroom.
Thanks to this little trick, a week ago I found out Maria’s little secret. This girl sure loves to masturbate, but every time she does, her free hand rubs her own belly and her index fingers swirls in her navel, the closer she gets to the orgasm the rougher becomes the fingering. It’s almost like her navel acts as a secret trigger. Even during sex, when a man is fucking her, Maria’s index finger always finds her navel and few minutes later she explodes in a wild orgasm.

Yesterday I followed Maria to the gym and I finally took the courage to go and talk to her. She was wearing a pair of leggins and a sport bra, I couldn't stop looking at her bare belly and sweet oval navel, imagining her masturbating for me while I finger her little innie.
I managed to get back to my senses and after a little chat I’ve also managed to ask her out. Her reaction really pissed me off, she laughed at me, she thought I was joking, that someone like me could never hope to go on a date with her.

I came back home angry as hell, I waited for her to come back from work and to have the usual “pleasure session”, this will be the last one she will ever have.


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So after reading Edward Hyde stories after a long pause is text story writing, I decided to write my own version as well.
English is not my native language and I will try some experimental formatting for easier reading.
I will post the story as I write in the real-time, without much of proofreading, but let's hope my spell checker will do a good job.
Probably this time it is more suitable to be in the /lit/ board even if it may contain few 3d pictures.
Whoever is willing to participate in proofreading or other ways to improve the story pretty, please.


I can't think a good title so let's call it *Meatgirl's adventures*.
This is almost the typical story about girls getting cooked, but not in the typical style and plot.
In some way, it can be regarded as Dolcett parody.
As can be expected from me, it will likely include all possible fetishes in existence. ;)

————————————–

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((Alright so I've been playing For Honor and I think a bit of guro is deserved. So each part I'll focus on one or two female characters to kill and fuck, I would love feedback aswell as recommendations for the next part.))



Part 1: Raider (Female obviously)



((On a side note I've decided I'm going to make the Raider topless.))



The battle or more importantly The Neverending War raged on all over the land, Vigdis was a warrior of little repute and while she was fierce in battle she was not always careful of her surroundings.

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