>>15918
I think its not working…
You either have an interactive story and have to commit to one suggestion (or marge few into one) or write your own story from start to finish as you see it fit…
It would be easier if you would give a few choices to choose from instead of saying "what's next" as most people here wanna see murder/snuff/necro etc. so they wanna kill the character/s as fast as possible…

Oof ok, I see what you're saying. I guess I'm kinda married to the interactive thing since it's in the title. I'll me try being clearer about what the choices are and what choice I'm picking from now on.

So here, the choices are:

Wait for lions
Brand her and make her a slave
Kill her
Ask her to make a choice
Or, something else entirely

The Lion will take your suggestions, and you can ask for more info.

>>15902
>>15901


These were the suggestions I took last time.

I also took note of how people wanted to see her die and get made use of. Without spoilers, I considered how I could have that happen later in our story.

But she can die suddenly and unfairly if that's chosen. I would probably start writing a different characters story or something like that.

Because someone suggested talking to her, branding her, and escaping, she survived. So you've all already effected the story.

>>15923

Make her a slave.

>>15923
kill

>>15056

Still should still credit the original story inspiration.

It's just good manners even if the original is semi well-known.

>>15056

Still should still credit the original story inspiration.

It's just good manners even if the original is semi well-known.

>>15060

Maybe Vivisectionist credit original story back in 200x when it was posted. Maybe credit part was lost when reposting.



In DGF thread after title it is written: "Based on Dolcett's picture story "Head or Tails"

>>15061

Fair point

love this!

It's a pity she didn't end up as a live dessert. It would have been a nice narrative loop.

If you're looking for constructive criticism, I found it difficult to picture what was going on at several points because the descriptions were too brief. For example, I can't tell what position the Steamers were meant to be in. On their knees? Lying down, looking straight ahead? What are the restraints like?

You should also put a link to your other work here, since it seems like you're assuming some degree of familiarity on the part of the reader and I had to find it by googling.

Aside from that, I quite liked it, and I look forward to seeing more from you.

>>15842
holy crap, an actual guro story with farting?! based anon, great writing too

Great story.

Great story ^^ its really cool to have more foot story here :)

Just... for the next story... I think that could be better for you to take your time for the foot torture or eating :)

Great story ^^ its really cool to have more foot story here :)

Just... for the next story... I think that could be better for you to take your time for the foot torture or eating :)

this reminds me of something… Weren't there more stories about Tina and her feet?

I love it, although loli isn't really my thing either :P Hoping for more.

Wow some great stuff, long anticipated and didn't disappoint. Loving the creativity with the victims like the young maid, and hey the entire loli part fit nicely as well. Since in the end it tied in by being part of the orders, if the ol assassin was more simple and straightforward about it things would've been fine as well. Would love to see more, this is quality.

in case anyone missed the detail, reason for maid in the beginning asking for towels was the kids in the bath and head maidish character was shoveling coal to keep the bath hot. Way to go with the plot coherence :OOO

bump

Just necro with pretee- and teen girls woudl be great. Just pure snuff->necro no guting or stuff.. just descriptions of cute dead bodies…

The year was 2072. Many things changed since the great collapse half a century ago, food, water and warmth became more prized while human life became considerably cheaper. To the first generation born after the end of civilization concepts such as the Internet or smart-phones were just tales told to them by their parents who had lived in a world where doing to bed with a grumbling, empty stomach was considered an unusual occurrence reserved only for the poorest. As time went on and memory of the old order began to fade these old tales were replaced by new and more relevant ones of nature and its horrors. As centralized governments slowly crumbled away, local communities became powerful once more, providing the unfortunate souls born into this world with a modicum of security and stability. Another concept which enjoyed a significant renaissance was that of religion and not the “forgive thine enemies” and “turn the other cheeks” type of quasi-benign belief systems which dominated the old world. The world had changed, so did it’s gods. The new deities, while retaining their old names demanded vastly different expressions of devotion from their followers; take the story of Abraham and Isaac as an example, in the old days it was a mostly harmless tale often told to children to teach them that, while we may not understand how, God will always lead us on the right path. The moral of this very same tale today has become quite different. In a world where the last contraceptive had been manufactured roughly fifty years ago, the circumstance of having to choose between the life of a child and the starvation of one’s entire family was not an alien concept to most people.
Yara was awoken by the cold. This was far from an unusual occurrence during this time of the year, no one could afford to have a fire burning during the night. Apart from the cold winds and a near constant runny nose there were some benefits to this time of the year; snow had not yet fallen and the supplies Yara's father and her had gathered were satisfactory and they were certain they would have no problem surviving the winter on what they had and should their situation get dire, the option of hunting, while risky and uncertain, was preferable to starving.
Yara and her father were forced to settle on the outskirts of this small community five years ago after Yara’s mother and younger brother had both succumbed to dysentery. After the then seventeen year old girl and her father had to watch them suffer and slowly die in their own watery excrement it became clear that they would no longer be able to to survive on their own. And so they hurried their dead, loaded as much as they could carry into a large hand-drawn cart and, with the help of an old, pre-collapse map, went out into the hostile world to find someone who would let them live amongst them. The .22 LR pistol that had once been used by Yara's great-grandmother in shooting competitions, had proven to be a remarkable deterrent against anyone considering taking what was theirs and Yara's father made sure to always carry it visibly. And so they were finally allowed to settle on the outskirts of a small small town which for many years had been governed by a local church.
The concept of separating the church and the state was one of the many concepts laid to rest after the collapse. In the community Yara was a member of after her brother's and mother’s tragic deaths the church fulfilled much more than the role of providing spiritual support to the faithful in times of need, the duties of all three branches of government were directly controlled by the church. The duties of those living under such a government were, surprisingly, quite few; each member of the community, young or old, male or female was expected to participate in church services at least three times per week (The service on Sunday was mandatory for everyone and neglecting it carried heavy sanctions), paying a small tithe as well was working one day per week for the church. Of course there were laws to regulate life in the town, but no sin was as severe as blasphemy for it was considered to be a direct attack on the church, and as such, on God and the community. A poor wretch found guilty of this grave offense was usually offered a chance to repent before being publicly hanged on a tree outside of town. An interesting peculiarity of this small town was the fact that other crimes while being punished severely did not carry the death penalty; in the eyes of the church elders sins such as theft adultery or murder were forgivable and could be forgiven by the community, blasphemy however was another matter entirely, it is a sin against God himself and as such only God may forgive it. The church could not allow itself to keep sinners of this sort in their midst. An attack on the church was, after all an attack on the whole community and without the community there could be no survival.
Yara looked around the hut that had now been her home for five years. It was a miserable hovel but she and her father had done the best to make it somewhat livable. A fireplace had been constructed as well as a decent workbench; furthermore, the few items in possession of their family since before the collapse of civilization apart from the pistol that had been brought here were now prominently displayed. There was for instance an old analogue clock, a painting of her great grandmother she had commissioned while studying in what was then known as Italy. It showed her great grandmother standing in front of the Cathedral in Siena; just like her great granddaughter she was of medium height had pale skin, dark brown shoulder length hair and eyes of the same colour.
Yara yawned, rubbed her eyes and counted thirty more seconds to enjoy the last opportunity to feel the warmth of the two heavy blankets. With a sigh she lifted herself from the creaking mattress, quickly put on the old pants that were once used for skiing and snowboarding but would now provide her with enough warmth to survive another early winter day as well as a pair of old trail boots. Water from the kettle placed on the, now burned out stove, helped quench Yara's thirst and water from a bowl next to it helped to wash the sleep from her eyes. Her father, awoken by the commotion greeted his daughter and slowly made his way out of bed as well. The day’s work was already cut out for both of them so without much resembling a conversation Yara put on her jacket and made her way to the door in order to collect firewood.
Before Yara could take hold of the doorknob The same door was kicked open, hitting her in the face and sending her flying backwards against her father. Four constables, assault rifles at the ready rush in and aim them at the pair, after a brief pause the highest rank amongst them started speaking: “Te are here to execute two arrest warrants on behalf of the holy Church on suspicion of blasphemy…” Before he could finish, Yara s father, to whom it now became apparent that this was a matter of life and death for him and his daughter rushed towards the pistol that had saved both of their lives before and was hidden for all these years under his mattress. This time however luck was not on his side; before he managed to aim the small calibre pistol, a bullet of a much higher calibre fired from the FAL of one of the constables, a man in his early twenties. The projectile turned his face into a bloody crater as it entered his head and took a significant portion of his brain with it as it exited. A splash of blood stained the facade of the Duomo di Siena and a small chunk of gray matter now lay at the feet of the smiling young student. Shaken from the loud noise Yara, still held her bloody nose and looked at her father who was now producing a few short gurgles, blood running out of his mouth and ears before laying still. The dutiful constables had no problems with tying Yara's hands behind her back and escorting her to the town hall (which these days also served as a court house) . While her clothes protected her from the cold, nothing could protect her from the stares and whispers of her neighbours but having just witnessed the death of her last relative Yara paid little attention to them.
The trial, if one could even call it that lasted for little over half an hour; after all, all of the evidence needed was already before the court. A young lad had broken into Yara’s home and had stolen 2 loafs of bread and a cup of flour unfortunately for the teary-eyed girl awaiting her fate before the bench, he also managed to take a particular book. 50 Years after the collapse books were mostly gone from this world either burned as a source of warmth of to eradicate the ideas which they carried. Writing and reading were still, however, skills routinely taught to children, if for not much more than to understand religious texts and laws. Unfortunately for Yara the book which the young thief reported to the authorities (he got 30 strokes of the cane for the crime of stealing) not only contained blasphemous ideas but denied the existence of a God completely. This could by no means be tolerated and so the presiding judge spoke to the terrified young woman before him, her nose had stopped bleeding at this point but the man before her was obviously a greater cause for concern: “The evidence in your case is truly overwhelming and so the law of the church dictates that you shall pay for your terrible sin with your life and the judgment of your tainted soul be left to the almighty. I am, however also bound by law to offer you an opportunity to save yourself from the fires of hell by publicly confessing your sin, honestly praying for forgiveness and dying as a Christian."
With nothing left to do, Yara accepted the Judge's offer. She turned around and addressed the masses that had piled into the court to see the church's justice. With a tear filled voice the girl confessed to possessing blasphemous writings and expressed remorse for her grave sin before the assembly. She then publicly signed a document transferring what little her family had to the church. As it was customary, the repentant condemned was then lead to the Church opposite of the town hall. Before Yara was locked inside for a day and a night to pray for God's forgiveness her hands were untied and she was given her last meal, a Large bowl of hot lentil stew, two pieces of brown bread and a cup of cold water. Although the young woman was devastated after the events of the morning hunger took over and she eventually ate and drank all that had been given to her. After her last meal the condemned was lead outside to the steps of the church where the bailiffs handed her a black, ankle-length penitent’s shift Yara would wear during her punishment. To demonstrate the will to fully a tune for her sin Yara was told to fully undress in front of the faithful and accept the black shift she would pray, suffer and die in. When it was time to remove her underwear the young woman hesitated, no stranger had ever seen her this way and she felt shame raise up within her causing her to blush despite the cold temperature of the early winter day shush was to be the last one she would fully live through. Her hesitation was quickly broken by the stern words of the priest invoking the horrors of hell that awaited those who did not fully repent, as well as the stern looks by the bailiffs. Her honour and modesty forsaken, Yara now stood fully exposed before the crowd, she quickly put on her death-shift and was escorted into the church where she would have one day and one night to pray for forgiveness and think about the noose that would all too soon choke the life out of her.
The reason why hanging became the only manner of execution by the church was twofold; the materials needed to perform such a grim task; Two lengths of rope, one for the tying of the hands and another to bear the weight of the condemned by his or her neck, a strong branch to do the same. A stool or bucket, the church had however recently decided to use a horse-drawn cart which was moved away from under the unfortunate sufferer when all of the pre-execution formalities were carried out and it was time for the prisoner to dance his or her last.
The other reason for which hanging was adopted as a method of dispatching blasphemers was the fact that not many things illustrated the sufferings of hell more accurately than the grotesque movements performed by the hanged as they slowly strangled, their airways closed by the hempen rope. The pathetic gurgles resembled the awful screams of demons and the frequent occurrence of men developing a final erection was seen as a disturbing parody of the deadly sin of lust. Furthermore the pathetic struggles, gasps and gurgles of the condemned as well as the frequent loss of control over bladder and bowels served as an excellent deterrent for those considering going against the teachings of the church.
In her 22 years on this earth Yara had witnessed more than her share of death and misery and thus had become quite desensitized, even the gory death of her father was to her just another event in her soon-to-be-over life. People dying of strangulation were a different story however, she witnessed her first hanging two years after moving to the town. A young man had been convicted of blasphemy after some of his writings were discovered in which he questioned the authority of the church to speak on behalf of the almighty. The authorities could not tolerate such a thing and so the poor lad found himself standing on a stool, hands bound behind his back with a rope around his neck. Yara watched as his face rapidly became red, then slowly turning purple as the rest of his body furiously fought to free itself from the noose which gradually choked the life out of him, forcing his tongue upward and partially out of his mouth. What disturbed Yara the most however were his eyes; desperately fixated on the crowd. The cruel rope had deprived him of the ability to speak or scream and the only thing emerging from his pinched throat was the occasional desperate vocal attempt at forcing air into his lungs. He wordlessly begged for someone in the crowd to cut him down or just grant him a swift death until his consciousness mercifully slipped away. Three minutes later the sharp smell of excrement heralded to the assembled crowd that his soul was now in the hands of God. The image of his face, slowly turning blue, his eyes desperately begging for mercy became a common feature in Yara's nightmares for many nights afterwards.
The young woman was left shivering from cold and fear in the middle of the medium-sized church. It was the only place in town where the lighting still worked and the bailiffs had been merciful and left the generator running throughout the night. Usually when she attended this place it was packed with both the faithful and those who pretended they were in order to further live a mostly secure life under the church's watchful eyes, now there was a deadly silence in the old building. This was it, the last full day Yara would live through was coming to an end and it had finally hit her. She stood in front of the altar where the bailiffs had deposited her, her wrists hurt and bore pale, red marks from the rope that had bound them, her slender naked feet were cold from the gray marble floor she was standing on. Her breath became quicker and she became light-headed. The edges of Yara's field of darkened so she stumbled to the first row of benches where she placed her brown-haired head into her palms and collapsed into a fit of spasmodic sobbing. Her nervous system overloaded with pain, fear and grief of the day and it took several hours full of cries, unintelligible screams of rage teeth-gritting, curses and sobbing for Yara to finally be able to regain some semblance of control over her feelings. The night had already advanced greatly when she had somewhat calmed down, her mind empty, staring at her bare, cold feet. The girl lifted her head and laid eyes on the altar She was never a true believer and the world around her did not make it easy, she had seen every flavour of misery in her short life and had experienced her fair share as well so the idea that an omnipotent all-knowing being was out there and loved her seemed almost ridiculous but also comforting especially when she was younger. Now her agnosticism had vanished, she had only known her father as an exceptionally kind (as much as it was possible in such a world) and intelligent man who would sacrifice everything for the life and happiness of his only remaining daughter, ensuring she was well-fed and clothed even if it meant for him to go barefoot and hungry. The idea that he had been killed by followers of the only true God in accordance with his laws was inconceivable; as he had not confessed and repented, his body would in all likelihood be burned with the town's refuse. Yara had heard the rumours of what happened to blasphemers who would not confess and while she truly dreaded and feared being suspended by her neck from a tree, kicking, gurgling, gasping, her face turning blue from lack of oxygen and slobbering all over herself while those in the front of the assembled crowd were able to catch a glimpse underneath her sparse clothing , it was safe to say that what she would have gone through had she not confessed would have been considerably more painful.

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bump

bump

bump in the hope of this thread coming back to life with the new site!

Hot story, especially liked the first 2 parts

Bump on the off chance of more?

I had fun with this! Personally I prefer struggles and such, but the air dancing girl and the deep kiss of the head were really fun parts of this for me.
Plus just generally thinking of a world with more or less glorified snuff

Fantastic Story. Thank you so much for writing it. I loved it.

this is so cute!

This really should be continued

I know this is unlikely to be continued, but it's adorable. Bump for those who have never seen it

BwahahahahahahahahahahahahaH

Great, now we gotta wait 20 or so years before Cannibal gets out.

Great, now we gotta wait 20 or so years before Cannibal gets out.

Do we actually know either of those were cannibal_land? Neither of their arrest dates line up with when he stopped posting.

it makes perfect sense for the timing would of had his stuff seized first then court for investigation

Cupid smiled at her accomplishment. It took a lot of effort but in the end, she finally pulled it off. She had all seven Dragon Balls, and one of each emotional power ring. The journey had taken her many places including the resting place of the final Dragon Ball, a volcano where she happened to be currently. Her already slutty outfit was ripped and torn from the journey and her red hair now a mess, but that no longer mattered.

“If I combine the power of these objects I'll be so powerful that Green Arrow will have to love me”

She monologued to herself.

“And now for my wish”

she exclaimed and the seven orbs began to float and glow. There was a flash of light, and suddenly floating in front of her was a giant ,green, serpentine Dragon.

“WHAT IS YOUR WISH”

Shenron asked in a grandiose manner. Cupid grinned.

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text

Hermione let her bra fall to the floor next to her shirt letting her breast breath her nipples stiffening up due to the cold, before stretching. All the other Gryffindors were out celebrating winning the quidditch cup, but she decided to stay behind and study. But first she was going to change into something a bit more comfortable. She slipped her shoes off and pulled her stockings off allowing her to stretch her toes, then wiggled out of her skirt and finally pulling her panties off. She sat down as she did and allowed them to rest on her big toe for a moment as she grinned, proud of her fine body before flicking her undergarments of her feet with one quick motion.

     Tohsaka walked through the halls of Hogwarts annoyed as all hell.

     “There's no one in this damn building”

     she thought to herself, though little did she know all the students were out partying at the Gryffindor celebration.

    “Damn it another dead in”

     She said as she ended up in a well decorated wall only with a painting of a fat lady

      “hmph watch your language young lady”

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Katniss slowly creeped through the shrubbery. Her naked body rubbing against the plants. After the defeat of the revelation most of her friends were killed straight of, but Snow had a much darker fate planned for her. Not only was she forced to partake in a 3rd Game, but had to fight this one completely in the nude for all the Hunger Games perverted fans. But she had almost one, only four combatants were left.

      She stopped as she reached the center of the arena where a large collection of supplies had recently been dropped. But she wasn't alone. A young barely eighteen had already reached the supplies before she had. The girl was also bare and her body still petty. Katniss felt, bad but the only way to survive was to win. The Girl on Fire stood allowing the sun to act as a spotlight for her body. Her young and firm breast bounced slightly as she jumped up with her healthy butt followed suit. Her skin was delicate and was rather light. Her stomach was a healthy size not fat or thin, her legs thin yet strong with a tight shaved pussy in between them. Katniss's knocked her arrow. The girl gasped but was quickly silenced as the projectile stabbed her through the throat.

      Katniss sighed as the teen fell dead.

       “Sarah!”

     A girl exclaimed running over to the dead girl. Katniss tensed up again. She must be a friend of the other girl she thought as she knocked another arrow.

      Aloy pushed through the wilderness as her bare breast jiggling with every step she took. She had no idea how she ended up in this sick game, but she was determined to survive. If the man who had been announcing the game had been truthful a stockpile of supplies should be just up ahead. She walked out of the shrubbery into the center of the arena where the sun lit up her body giving everyone watching the games at home something worth looking at. Her tan body was clean and smooth without blemish and what her boobs lacked in size they made up for with perkiness, her butt was a smooth bubbly  and her stomach strong and muscular with well defined abs, her legs were strong, and muscular yet thin and between them was her red hairy pussy.

      “Sarah!”

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Nice, I like a good combat gore story.

More, great work!

Wow, this is fun.

Think that Mako can have some female victims at some point? She definitely needs more victims, though I'm sure she'll eventually die, too.

This is great, I'd love to see some more stuff set in this world.

I posted one other story on here ages ago, but thought time to post some more (part 2 to follow)