I wrote a gore story, thought people here would like it. https://archiveofourown.org/works/18389672

(As usual, commissions open, email me at whydoihavethiskink at yahoo dot com, yada yada yada :D )

I've been trying to find an old story that I hope wasn't lost. In it, a woman ended up on an alien world where she accidently runs into something like a small xenomorph. She ends up pissong herself and the alien finds her. It then slowly ends up ripping out her entire pussy, womb, and ovaries and eating them before letting her go. The story ends with her being content with what happenes to her.

Does anyone remember this story?

I've been trying to find an old story that I hope wasn't lost. In it, a woman ended up on an alien world where she accidently runs into something like a small xenomorph. She ends up pissong herself and the alien finds her. It then slowly ends up ripping out her entire pussy, womb, and ovaries and eating them before letting her go. The story ends with her being content with what happenes to her.

Does anyone remember this story?

The Dear
RuneSmith
December 1998
It had been a long time since I last ate human meat. My friend, Joe, would hunt and kill kids and then eat them. But he didn't like eating them alone, and so he'd invite me over for dinner, with someone else on the menu. It really didn't matter that I was eating children. What I didn't like was killing them, so I left that up to Joe.
When the authorities finally caught up with Joe the kid eater, they broke into his farmhouse and found Joe skinning an eight-year-old female. She'd been swiped from a local play park. .
Police found the girl's head sitting in a bowl, her sweet brown eyes staring at nothing. Her organs had been put into a small tub, wrapped up in several layers of plastic bags. Her heart and liver were already fixed and chopped and found frozen in the freezer.
He probably would have gotten away with her murder, but someone had seen him snatch the little girl from the street and whisk her away. He was put away with no parole and finally done in with the electric chair. I followed the trial. He never said he was sorry. He never regretted his actions, even admitting that she was maybe, as far as he could remember, the fiftieth child he had eaten.
Over a period of ten years I had helped him eat most of those fifty children. They were good, boys and girls. Some were white, black, Asian, and some were Mexicans. All were sweetly delicious. Each time I sat down to eat with him, he would tell me the haunting details of their capture, gleefully retelling how frightened the little animals were as if they were running from a giant lion. He was a good cannibal right to the last.
Now this is my story. I wasn't hunting any children, but I shot one anyway. My ranch is forty acres and I was out back with my hunting rifle boning up on target practice, getting ready for deer season. But it wasn't deer season. Not yet. But I thought I saw a deer. Yes, I would be poaching on my own land, but gee whiz the thought of fresh venison ran through my mind. I would have fresh meat tonight.
I saw the animal scampering through the woods. I took aim and shot it and it fell from sight. I ran over to the deer and stopped, shock registering on my face. Looking down on the ground lay not a deer or your usual other meat animal. It wasn't even a dog, or a bad dream. There before me lay the crumpled body of a young girl. She was dead and bleeding. I had shot her right in the head and the bullet exited the opposite side in a terrible reddish gob of brains scattered about.
Afraid, I squatted down and waited for someone to approach. Yet several minutes went by and I could not hear or see anyone else. Why this girl was where she was, will always be a mystery to me. But there she was. Dead.
I picked her up and carried her back to my truck and laid her on its cold, hard bed. She would not care about a bumpy ride. When I got back to my ranch I pulled the body from the truck and carried it into the kitchen, placing it on the dining table. Blood leaked out of her broken head. Then I thought, well had this been a deer I would have taken it to the barn and butchered it. I remembered that once I was a cannibal regular at the dining table.
It took it back out to the barn and found the hooks to hang it up and let it bleed out. After she was hanging upside down I realized that her clothes would have to come off. No deer would be wearing clothes. I cut off her clothes and put them into a box. There she hung, arms dangling downward, turning blue.

Comment too long, view post No.16055 to see the full comment.

Snuff Olympics – Spears for all the ladies

“LAAADIES AND GENTLEMEN! A round of applause for our next athlete – hailing from Russia and standing tall at 2.1 meters – Ivan, professional cunt killer and snuffmeister at our emperor’s pleasure palace! His dedication for keeping the women population under control is well known throughout the empire, with over one thousand women snuffed. Just the sight of him makes most cunts wet themselves, both in fear and anticipation. “ the commentator yelled at the mic, introducing the mountain that was Ivan.

The arena had over one hundred thousand spectators, most of which were male, over 60% of the region’s male population. The snuff Olympics happened once a year and was a real show of male aptitude, with diverse challenges centered around culling excess women. Of course, for such occasions and shows, only the most beautiful and attractive were chosen, so the impact of their demise would be felt even by the most ruthless of men out there.

“Behold – the targets!” the commentator yelled, as a trapdoor in the arena floor opened and a platform with six gorgeous young women aligned in front of each other. Each has her hands and feet tied to two poles, keeping their bodies suspended in an X. They’re all about the same height and aligned so that their heads are at about the same height.

“You’ve seen them on magazine covers, fashion shows and maybe even in some movies – they’re among the most beautiful the empire has to offer! From front to back, we have Brittany, Alexis, Lindsey, Caprice, Kiara and Ivan’s personal sex toy – Natasha. We’ll see if he has the strength and precision to kill them all with one spear! Let’s see what spear he’ll chose while the girls are getting their last orgasms!” the commentator's voice filled the arena as the naked girls had their vibrator cunt plugs started.
Their moans are captured by tiny microphones embedded in the poles and broadcast across the stadium to create blood thirst among the male participants. Their short screams will also be heard by every spectator, while a multitude of ultra-high definition high speed camera broadcast their last moments across humongous screens nationwide.

“Will he take away their beautiful faces with the thrust of a spear or will he break their hearts? Let’s find out!”


Comment too long, view post No.15697 to see the full comment.

PLEASE NOTE:
This short story is three interweaving stories from different time periods. When I was originally writing this story I used italics and bolding to separate visually the stories. Cuz I can't do it on here I've just put a 1, a 2, and a 3 in front of each section. The number correlates with when chronologically the portion happens.


The prince was by no means charming. Centuries of inbreeding led to mangled teeth, a distorted face, and abnormally large genitals. He had no authority to even be preparing to lead such a proud country, and yet an immense inheritance meant it only fitting that when poor little Rebecca was asked to be his wife, her father sold her over without second thought.
Rebecca was a sweet girl. Petite, naive, pretty. Silky brown hair that she often kept in two thin pigtails, much to her caretakers’ chagrin. Pale skin and rosy cheeks meant she was the prince’s number one choice in women, and her stout but fitting form– a large ass and flat breasts that betrayed youngness– only excited him more.
She was grown now, somewhat. No longer the 18 year old little girl who was dragged away from a life she never knew to hate. Two years had passed– and the hateful prince was growing more and more impatient. He needed an heir as soon as possible, and he’d be the first in his family not to fuck a sister to get it.
Well, they were cousins, but it wasn’t quite so bad.

1
Rebecca was scared, shaking in her little room. Despite the country’s funds and the lavishness of the castle, the new princess was only rewarded a small room, some mere steps away from the castle dungeon. The prisoners were loud and frightening, and despite all common sense, Rebecca often feared the castle guards would let an inmate out simply to have his way with her.
Now, as she shuddered and wept on her small cot, missing home and a life she once loved, her dear caretaker stroked her luscious hair. She, so far, appeared to be the only person in the castle who had any care for the poor girl. She, too, was young and pretty. Small with long blonde hair, she was only a teenager like the princess, just a year older. Her name was Samantha, and on this fearful night, she sang gentle poetry until the young girl fell slowly to sleep.


Comment too long, view post No.16039 to see the full comment.

The day she was cut in half

The warehouse was pretty dark. None of the lights were on, only the dusty, cobwebbed skylights let in the reflected shine of the city, from low hanging, looming clouds. Like a dirty yellow blanket.

It was enough light for a young woman to tiptoe her way through the aisles, between racks and stacks of palettes, almost up to the ceiling.

She was alone. There would have been no need to tiptoe, but any sound echoed eerily in the large building and the reason she was here in the first place, at night and without light, brought with it a certain amount of healthy paranoia.

The warehouse was used as a drop-off point for various smuggled goods. And if the police were to catch her with the stash she was about to retrieve, she'd face a very unpleasant interrogation, while corrupt officers were trying shady methods to find out who had sent her, who she'd bring it to, and other questions that, if she answered truthfully would shorten her life considerably. If she didn't she'd rot in jail.

None of that would matter on this fateful day. There were no police, and she would in fact never have to worry about hitmen nor jail, but she didn't know that yet. She counted the aisles, then went down one of them counting racks.

She stopped in front of a large stack of rusty metal cages, each of which held plastic barrels with symbols and letters on them. It was not the stack in front of which she should have stopped. The goods she had come for waited savely on a shelf, one aisle further down. But that, too she didn't know.


Comment too long, view post No.14604 to see the full comment.

Little bit I wrote for a gifted art piece.

Furry(see image), Sex, Torture, Skinning, Gutting, Dismemberment, snuff, pred/prey… get your bingo cards ready!

I've done /short/ stories for pieces in the past, but this was the first true short story I've done for a piece. Depending on feed back I might do more.

Enjoy!

Chatin slipped her dress on getting ready for her date tonight, and tonight being Valentine’s Day. She had met a feline several months back and what had started out as a simple friendship had evolved into that much more. Although they were both a predator and a female it mattered little to her, and had long since ignored warnings from others on their relationship. What fears she had long since disappeared once their relationship became intimate.

For the night she had opted for a dress that was fancier than her normal attire, being lined with lace around the edges and across the shoulders. The dress covered her torso entirely down to her thighs, but left her back completely exposed down to her tail. With the fabric hugging her form it left enough visible to be attractive while hiding enough to make one wonder. She had worn nothing passed the dress assuming in advance that it wouldn’t be staying on her for too long anyway.

En lieu of a restaurant for the evening Aisha had opted that she come to their house for dinner, as she apparently had something special in mind. However, dinner wasn’t at the front of her thoughts currently, and it made her twitch thinking about the feline. Every time they had grown intimate, she was always left hanging and forced to solve the problem later. She was hoping tonight would be different after finally being invited to the cat’s home and on Valentine’s to boot.

Comment too long, view post No.16027 to see the full comment.

Disclaimer: All characters are 18+, any resemblance to real characters or events is purely coincidental. English is not my mother tongue so any criticism or advice is greatly appreciated.

Schoolgirl Skullfuck
=(M/F, nc, rape, brain fuck)=


Muffled screams echoed within Mr Nwabudike's office, accompanied by a series of rhythmic grunts, heart-wrenching sobs and squeaks of the rusty springs inside an old mattress.



Katie, a pretty little blonde from a conservative family, squirmed between Mr Nwabudike's muscular bulk and the semen-stained mattress - her white blouse wide open, her pleated skirt rolled up on her waist, and her white-and-blue striped panties forcefully stuffed into her mouth as an impromptu gag. Tears rolled down her face as he brutally took her precious virginity without an ounce of love, her tiny body bucked in pure agony when he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled himself deeper into her tight love canal.



Comment too long, view post No.15971 to see the full comment.

Hi, this is my first story and my first post after Gurochan fell down. It isn't too guro but it tells about a event envolving sex and horror. Also I don't where published. I hope you like it. I'm not a native english speaker, so sorry for gramatical errors.

First Part

Some days before spring, the winds of winter were blowing their lastest breathes. The sky was clearing from dark clouds. A time ago, winds were getting more stronger. How was it? Twenty? Thirty miles per hour? Nobody cares. But I will tell you about a little and peacefull village on the flat fields, because there was happening something strange and horrible…

All started at an afternoon, a eight years old girl was walking alone from a distant school back to home. It was cloudy and dark. Everybody was a home for bad weither. Then, the wind started to blow with more and more strenght. Everybody heard a scream from outside. Nobody was on the street. No were signs. No were traces. They just founded a little yellow dress, ripped and stucked on a tree.

"What was it?" somebody asked.

"It seemed like a child screaming" said another one

The horror started…

Comment too long, view post No.15989 to see the full comment.

Warning, Vice Dark Lord does not condemn violance towards women, or anyone for that matter. Just like, don't be an asshole

I performed an autopsy on the body of VAN PALADE, CAROLINE L. at the Hospital for Tropical Diseases In London, England on the date of October 31, 2009 @1430 HOURS.

From the anatomic findings and pertinent medical history I ascribe death to:

A: IDIOPATHIC RIBOSOMOPATHY

AS A DIRECT CONSEQUENCE OF

B: ANOREXIA NERVOSA

Anatomical Summary:

I. Pulmonary edema

Comment too long, view post No.15809 to see the full comment.

It's been a while since I've written. I've learned a lot about what I like and what people like. In at work, and I could he working, but I would rather take a break and do something fun.

I shouldn't spend the whole work day writing this though, so maybe I'll turn it into a little game and ask you guys to help me continue.


<br></br>

It's as simple as not wanting to die. I've been sheltering this bunny girl for several weeks now. Shes adoreable and petite and can manage to do anything I ask with some difficulty. Her bright red eyes peek through saturated blue bangs that are like a cloudy sky in warm light, and like a deep blue ocean in cold light. She doesnt have many clothes but what I bought her, it's sort of like having a doll. These big fluffy sweaters and gummy sneakers I buy her, it's enough for her to get around, and shes unfathomable cute when her with her spindly little legs holding up clothing twice her size. I just look at her. I'm sort of looking for an answer, but I know there isnt one.

She has a lot of human in her, so her face is mostly cleared of excess fluff and fur. Her oversized ears and untamed fluffy tail are the biggest problems. She could wear gloves to cover plush white paws with thick black claws I've spent hours rounding down with a sand paper nail file. She could wear boots to cover the fur that starts at her shins and travels to her paws, stockings work for that for now but at a gate check it would have to be boots. But it doesnt matter anyway.

We cant travel far. If she were to get checked they'd make her take off her hat off first, I could cut off her ears but they would still see the stubs. Even if I did, she cant walk straight with her tail taped down, and they'd notice a weird walk or a big overcoat, they're used to that.


Comment too long, view post No.15885 to see the full comment.

Cordy was enjoying her day. She was enrolled as a college student, and she was spending a sunny spring afternoon studying at home. When the doorbell rang, she wondered who that could be. She opened the door, and it was her uncle Jake at the front door. He worked for Hills Meats, a quality girl meat dealer, and had his prominently painted "Hills Meats" truck parked in front. His job was "harvesting" women who had been selected to be butchered by the nation-wide female meat lottery.

"Oh, hi Uncle Jake," said Cordy. "This is a surprise."

Cordy was dressed in a crop tank top and short flower print miniskirt. As she glanced at the truck she knew was full of female corpses on their way to Hill's slaughterhouse, her nipples hardened visibly. She hadn't worn a bra today. Her hard nipples looked like two small, hard rubber erasers on the front of her massive, soft breasts.

"Hi, Cordy. Sorry this isn't a social call," he said looking down at her nipples protruding out through her thin top. "Your number came up on the computer, so I'm here to collect your body," he said almost apologetically, with a cheerful smile and soft voice.

"Oh shit," said Cordy. "I guess my luck's run out." She swallowed hard. "What do I have to do?" she asked, focusing on helping her uncle.

"Not much. Just strip and pick how you want to be 'whacked'," he answered.

"You mean I get a choice?" asked Cordy, with a puzzled and slightly happy look. She felt comforted that she had some choice in the matter after Jake had dropped the bombshell that soon she would be meat stacked for sale in Hill's store.

Comment too long, view post No.15046 to see the full comment.

In the World of Bones, family blood grudges are a common occurrence, and can be quite deadly to the girls on the wrong side of one. Many a family has met their untimely end, not at the hands of some gruesome monster, but at the hands of their fellow villagers.

Hannah was enrolled in the City Guard school. she was happy, pretty and veryy popular among her fellow students. She had mousy brown hair that spilled over her shoulders and the cutest smile of any girl her age.. Often she’d go out after school with her friends, and swim in the river that flowed through Genkysou, or climb the lighthouse tower, or eat dessert at the Girl Brain Sorbet parlour.

Hannah dipped her shiny spoon into the open skull of some unlucky redhead. Thankfully her family was wealthy enough that she could splurge on a live girl for her dessert. The semi-decapitated girl squirmed under the table she was locked into, and on Hannah’s lap.
“Uuuuuuuuuggghhhhh.” the poor waif moaned as Hannah ate another delicious mouthful of her rich pink fatty brain

She turned to her friend Angela, who was slurping up her own dessert; a frozen head of cute asian looking girl, her face locked in a look of permanent surprise. Angela’s spoon darted in and withdrew a cold morsel to her lips. Angela was a cute looking blonde, who always drew her hair back into pigtails. Her mother had always said they made her look younger. Maybe it was true? The only boy, Derek, in their CIty Guard class, always looked at her with the kind of face that said he wanted to rip off her loincloth and fuck her right there and then in front of the lecturer, so perhaps it was.

“Hey Angie, wanna come round to my place after this? We can practice some spear patterns, and do that homework on the laws and regulations pertaining to the processing of immigrants, vagrants, and troublemakers, that Mrs Kelly wanted us to do…. “ Hannah, asked her bestie.

“…Then afterwards we could do makeovers, and sneak into kitchen at midnight. One of the Sex-slaves there was telling me that Mr Clarkson from down the hall has been taking out snuff slaves for a midnight romp, and snack. If we’re lucky, we can watch him bang and snuff some poor amputee bitch.” she finished.


Comment too long, view post No.15842 to see the full comment.