Hi, I'm Poguemahone

So this is actually an idea from my pal JestInPieces that he's kindly allowed me to use, cause I loved the sound of it. There's no actual guro to start with, but I've got some typical Poguemahone shit planned from maybe about chapter 3-4 onwards, promise. I'm not physically capable of writing a story without using the word "brain" at some point. Got to build up to it though!

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There’s a flicker of light as the webcam is turned on. It’s a small room with pink walls, lit by a hanging overhead light. A bookcase filled with a mixture of textbooks and airport novels is on the right. Miscellaneous items are visible on the shelves-a hairbrush, loose coins and some sort of comic book action figure, posing heroically for the camera. Across from it lies a small bed, covered in white sheets, hastily tidied. The door out is directly across from wherever the webcam has been set up.


A teenage head pops into view. She had fiery red hair that seems wild and artless in a way that you only get with lots of care. Two emerald green eyes stare into the camera. Then the girl smiles.

“Aaaand we’re on!” she says, giggling. “Hey guys, Melissa here! It’s happening! Wooo!” Her eyes can be seen darting to her right, as if reading something just off camera, before she starts to speak again. “Wow, there’s a lot of you guys on chat, huh? Ok, I’m gonna do a quick recap in case anyone comes in who doesn’t know the deal, and to give people time to log in before we start. That cool, everyone? Yeah? Ok!” She claps her hands and rubs them together before starting her introductory remarks.


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It was a chilly Michigan evening but not too bad. Ella was walking home from a party at a friends house. She had been introduced to a really cute friend of a friend named Alex who ended up asking for her number. So exciting! She had been given a heads up he would be there so she was dressed for the occasion: a lovely black patterned strapless corset, revealing her shoulders which she always liked, and a mid length lovely burgundy skirt. A bit on the skimpy side but still tasteful. Unfortunately, she wished she had brought a jacket as she was now starting to shiver a bit in the crisp night air.

She turned the corner leading to her neighborhood when a car turns out of seemingly nowhere it high speed and comes screeching to a halt next to Ella. She is a bit shaken at first but calms down a bit when she sees Alex get out of the car.

“Hey Ella, thought I’d come and offer you a ride home!” He closed the car door and walked toward her. Her heart fluttered a bit, he was as cute in the moonlight as he was back at the party, if not more so. However, something didn’t feel right. The way he was smirking at her, the look in his eyes, it seemed… attractive and… dangerous.

Then Ella noticed a glint in Alex’s right hand. He was holding a knife. Fuck, how had she not noticed that before now?

Her eye’s instinctually widened and her heart rate increased. Alex noticed easily, as she was now staring directly at the hunting knife, which wasn’t really hidden to begin with.

“Heh, you just now noticed babe?” he says to Ella in a mocking voice.

Ella is speechless, fear beginning to creep into her mind. “I… I uh, I really should get home… it’s very cold out here.” she stuttered as she starts to back away. Alex lets her back off a few feet and she turns and starts walking very quickly down the sidewalk, shivering in the cold air. Then she hears him start to run toward her. Her mind enters panic mode immediately and she instinctually shouts “No please just leave me alone!” as she starts sprinting down the sidewalk.

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This is a long one. I think the slow build up helps the story, but if you grow impatient with it, or simply don't have a lot of time, feel free to skip to part ten.

Pep

1 - Push

	

"Elizabeth, would you stay after class please?"

	

Titters and a couple of giggling laughs from several of the students filing out of his classroom followed this announcement, but Mr. Riggs ignored them. Elizabeth, however, blushed and ducked her head, hiding her face behind her long hair.

	

"Y-yes, Mr. Riggs." she answered, a bit timidly.

	

Mr. Riggs intimidated Elizabeth a little bit, but then, so did almost everyone. She waited until the last of her classmates had left the room, then approached Mr. Riggs' desk.

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Hi all, I published this story on Literotica a couple days ago but I figured the Scat crowd here would like it as well

Prologue: Jake

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The prologue introduces one of our main characters, and how he got to where he is in the beginning of chapter 1. If you're just here for the juicy parts you might want to skip this bit.

Jake enjoyed his life on Earth. Well, at least for the most part. Nothing less was expected of him. He lived in the utopia created by the United Federation of Planets, after all. Jake got a lot of free time which he spent hiking and playing adventure games in his town's holosuite. His desk job cataloging alien cultures was perfectly serviceable too. But he wasn't quite satisfied. Jake preferred to be in a monogamous relationship with a woman, and he tried it a few times but it never quite worked out for him.

You see, Earth had evolved to a point where people were basically free to have whatever type of relationship they wanted and do whatever they want, but even so, a couple of things where so out-there, that it was nearly impossible to bring up in a relationship without destroying it. Jake had one of those things. He'd discovered during puberty that the only way he could truly enjoy sex was if piss and poop got involved. He wasn't ashamed of this, but this kink was just completely unacceptable in the clean and pure society of the Federation. He even went to talk about it with a Federation counselor. She just suggested he'd forget about the fetish and go and enjoy his life without ever indulging. But this part of his sexuality was just so important to him that he found he couldn't have a satisfying relationship without it.

One day, close to his 25th birthday, he suddenly got an idea. He looked around to see if he was alone in his working room, activated his console and put in a query: "Computer, list all known sapient species that involve their own bodily waste in their courting rituals."


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The title of this thread was based on the thread in /3D/. This thread will be stories involving the deaths of little girls twelve and under that are too short to put on my site.

I'll start by posting a longer version of a story I posted in Ultra Short Stories.

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"If you want candy, you have to be good," the young brunette said to her kids before she walked into the store.

I peered around the corner of the building. A little girl, most likely seven, with short blonde hair, sat in the front passenger seat twirling a strand of hair with her index finger. In the back, twin boys, no younger than ten, were play fighting. I could see that was two other cars in the parking lot, but they were both empty. So, I decided to act.

I stuffed my hands deep in my pockets, and made sure a candy bar was sticking halfway out of my left pocket, before I emerged from the corner. I walked casually up to the car, and as I approached the car, the kids stopped what they were doing and looked directly at me.

"Hey, little girl, do you want a surprise?" I asked.

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I'm going to start writing stories, mostly involving debreasting and twat torture, and posting them here. I'll label each with their individual tags.

By Natasha Kendrick

Part 1

Natasha: Justin, your latest Album “Team Necro” has attracted a lot of comment about your recent lifestyle choices, not all of it complementary. Tell us about where you are right now, and what's lead you here.
Justin: Well, for the last few years I've really been giving everything to my fans. The music, the tours, the events, everything. It means that I'm just starved of me-time, I just don't want to spend what little time I have pleasing someone else. Plus my social media strategist has always been very against me having a girlfriend, because the fans hate it.
N: And so that's why you've moved to following a nec-romatic lifestyle?
J: if you mean that's why I fuck dead girls now then yeah (laughs) honestly though I just feel it makes sense. I find the necro-girls much more giving, they're not selfish or out for what they can get. Plus with all the #metoo and sexual assault stuff right now it really makes me immune to any accusation of mistreating women.
N: You don't feel that soliciting your fans to have themselves snuffed and delivered to you is itself disrespectful or misogynistic?
J: How could it be? No one is being pressured, or forced to do anything they don't want to. I just let it be known to my fans that if they choose to have themselves decapitated and then express delivered to me, then I'll have sex with them – assuming I find them attractive that is.
N: So are those two of your former fans on the bed there?
J: I assume so, I have a few rules you see; I don't like people trying to use me to get famous, so fans aren't allowed to send any kind of message or video – I won't look at any of that stuff, they must be a c-cup or smaller, weigh no more than 8 stone, 5'2” maximum height. That kind of stuff. I think it's much more pure if a girl is only doing this to please me. It's really beautiful, and I thank every girl who becomes one of my Neckos. This album is like a love song to them
N: And the twenty or so dead girls you were stood on for the cover, were they all your Neckos?
J: Mostly, they go off pretty fast so those Nekos were all from that week and we also snuffed a few models to add in for the shoot. You can tell the models ‘cause they're all taller. I don't like that at all so after the shoot we just tossed them in the dumpster.

Sorry, just reposting this with some tags.

I am new to this forum and love to write horrible stories. Unfortunately, they get yanked from every site I ever post them to!


Her name was Melody Garcia and she was young - only 17 – and had never taken the bus before by herself, let alone to the bad part of town. She tried her hardest not to let people see that she was crying.

When the bus finally came to her stop, she gathered her few things together and waddled off. It would all be over soon. It would all be over soon… she kept telling herself. An hour from now, she’d be back on the bus, headed toward home, and it would be like the whole thing had never happened.

She had scrawled the address on a scrap of paper, stuffed in her pants pocket. She shivered as she walked through the diseased and broken streets. Sirens wailed in the distance. She finally came to the storefront… looked like it had been a convenience store at one time. There were still shelves, with stray cans of tuna and tomato paste here and there. Halogen buzzed and flickered.

In the middle of the store sat a woman with a pale face. “May I help you?”


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Like with my other thread, this will be random stories that are too short for me to upload to my ASSTR site—less than 1,000 words; usually around 500. This one will be for young women, 18-30. The other differences is that, while most of my stories will just be random murders, there will be other types of deaths; suicides, executions, and even accidental.

To start us off, I'll import my recent Killer and Victims story from RP.


Peter Sullivan worked as the receptionist for Golden Crowns Hotel for a week. It was a fancy, expensive, hotel located in Manhattan where CEOs, celebrities, and other well-off people stayed. According to official documents, and co-workers, however, he was known as Jake Dent. He wore a wig, to disguise his blond hair with brown. He also wore a mask and pair of gloves that, without extremely close inspection, were realistic enough to pass off as his own face and hands. He made sure that the rest of his skin was covered to hide the slight difference in skin texture. All of this was for his real job as an assassin.

His target was a twenty-six year old secretary from the United Kingdom, known Emma Walters. According to his client, she threatened to expose some of the illegal business practices that his company is involved in, and she needed to be silenced before she could go to the authorities. He learned through research that Emma always used this particular hotel whenever she visited New York, and discovered that she planned to vacation in Manhattan this month. So Peter forged some documents and got a job at the hotel.

Emma arrived at the hotel late in the evening. Peter recognized her immediately from the description and photographs given to him by his client. She had short brown hair, although her eyes were maroon rather than blue; he figured that she had to be wearing colored contacts. She wore an maroon kimono, which was open at the neck to display her bra straps and her rather prominent cleavage. She approached the desk, and I assigned her a room.

Five hours later, Emma was passed out on the bed; she only wore a pair of black panties, with her giant breasts on full display. Her kimono and bra were laid out over a chair.


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“Well, well, what have we here?”

A figure emerged from the shadows of the tunnel, dark-haired and dark-skinned, wearing a trench coat and wielding a shotgun, the barrel red-hot and smoking like a cigarette in the night.

“The Pyro Sisters,” announced a second figure, coming up from behind the first. “We finally got our prize.”

Eve cast a casual glance at the two female raiders in the flickering light of the subway service room. They laid on the grimy tiled floor, sweating, bleeding and clinging to each other. Their fear was palpable; she could taste it.

“Which one do you want,” asked Cait.

Her gaze flickered between the raiders. One was blonde, skinny and pale, with cuts, bruises and dark stains on her hands and chest. The other was a brunette, thicker and tanned, clutching a bullet wound in her side. “I’ll take the thick one.”

“No, no!” The blonde clutched her companion with the frantic eyes of cornered prey. “Fuck off! You can’t have her!”

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Some young women learn the proper way to tenderize male meat.

Properly Tenderized Meat

1 - Balls..

 "What is the most important part of preparing any piece of meat?" the formidable looking woman at the front of the room asked, looking intently at her attentive audience.

 A few seconds passed, during which all of the new culinary students, who were garbed in clean chef's whites just as their instructor was, looked around at each other. They must have found the question, or perhaps the questioner herself, a bit intimidating, as no one seemed keen on being the first to speak up. But, perhaps that wasn't so surprising, given the woman's world renowned reputation as a master chef.

 Finally, one of the freshmen girls at the back of the crowd raised a tentative hand.

 "Yes? Miss Linde, you have an answer?"

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Jennifer's breasts ached as she moved. That was alright, though. She liked that.

Lifting her arms above her head with a sigh, she slowly moved her body into the next yoga pose. Bending her forward leg, she stretched the other out behind her, the motion naturally making her upper body curve to push out her sore, heavy chest. Both of her breasts lifted as she raised her arms, sending little sparkles of pain up her spine. Biting her lip, she forced herself to hold the pose, even though the damp spot on her yoga pants was already down to mid thigh.

Ever since she had hit puberty, Jennifer had been particularly well endowed through the chest. Once she had begun to develop, she'd filled out quickly, reaching a C-cup before some of her peers were even out of training bras. This had made her an object of some envy in the early years of high school, alongside a few other fortunate girls with a similar physique. However, where the growth of other girls had stopped, Jennifer's breasts had kept going. While other large-chested girls began to show signs of sagging or lopsidedness, she stayed pert even as she bought her first E-cup bra, the size of each breast in perfect symmetry. At reaching an F-cup, Jennifer's parents had started to worry about back issues, and taken her to a doctor for recommendations about a reduction. She'd viciously fought against the possibility, though mostly out of a rebellious urge rather than any real sense of pride in her chest, and so instead of surgery had instead been given a strict exercise routine to strengthen her core.

Every day since then, Jennifer had worked out diligently to maintain a strong abdomen and lower back, and as a result had never experienced so much as a twinge of backache from her breasts. As an added 'side effect' of her daily workout, she also maintained a healthy weight with ease, staying fit and energetic all through her life. Now an adult, her body had filled out into a top-heavy curve, with wide hips that were still overshadowed by her ridiculously massive bust. Though she'd finished growing, she'd had to begin buying specialty N-cup bras to hold her chest in check, each firm, high breast fully larger than her head. If she lifted her tits up with her arms, she didn't even have to bend her neck to bring her puffy pink nipples within reach of her own lips.

Reaching a count of forty in her head, Jennifer shifted to the next pose. Her arms spread out in a 'T', one pointed ahead of her, the other behind. Her legs were to stay in the same position as the previous pose, though she shifted from her left leg being in front, instead stretching it behind and bending her right leg before her, knee making a nearly 90 degree angle. Having her arms pointed forward and back like this made her torso twist slightly to the side, one bicep pressing against the side of her voluptuous breast. The bare skin was tight and firm, noticeably hotter than the flesh of her arm. She shivered in arousal, then started to count again.

With such perfect and oversized breasts, Jennifer had been the object of intense male attention ever since freshman year. Naturally shy, she'd rejected the advances of her classmates for a long time, going so far as to shun public socializing almost completely outside of school. Instead, she had turned to the internet for her social needs, immersing herself in many cultures and hobbies, learning about things online while meeting a lot of new people. For the most part this had been a very good experience, and had helped her to avoid the stress and embarrassment of being constantly ogled, her online friends having no clue about her extreme endowment.

However, in all her browsing, she had also come across something that every young person soon finds online. Pornography.

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This is the moment I‘ve been waiting for. For the last hours I tortured and mutilated her but I always paid attention to not hurt her in a way that would hinder her mobility. I didn’t do this for her, I did this for myself. Never did I go easy on her. For me she’s just a tool and all the torture and mutilation I did was just for preparing the tool for it’s primary task.
For this task it is important for her to really hate me. Maybe hate is too nice. I aim for her wanting to kill me in the most horrible way possible. This has been my fantasy for years now. Even tried to hurt myself before but it’s simply not the same. It has to be someone else who’s hurting me. Over the internet I searched for women who would do that to me but I had no luck.
So I decided that I would have to help myself and search for a beautiful woman with a strong will. The strong will was important because I didn’t want to break her. I found her in a sex club that I visit on a regular basis. She’s a bit dominant and likes to whip so I decided that she should be the one. Since we both knew each other very well from the club it wasn’t hard for me to invite her to my house for a beer or two.
When we arrived at my house I didn’t hesitate. I slapped her in her face really hard so that she got numb and carried her into my cellar where she could scream as loud as she could without anyone hearing.
The next two hours were really hard for her. I whipped her until her skin broke and pissed into her open wounds. This burning sensation made her scream and swear. She promised that I would have to pay for this. She would have her chance for that even if she didn’t knew this at this time.
But her hate wasn’t big enough yet. Never would she kill me for this. So I had to continue. From the club I knew that she never did anal because she hated it. So I got a big dildo and began to insert it into her ass until she bled. Then I pushed it even further until it fully disappeared in her colon. Because of the flat ending of the dildo she couldn’t push it out again. I wanted to feel the dildo in her ass and rammed my whole fist in her cunt so that her cunt teared apart.
But all these wounds would heal. This is a problem because she would only kill me if there is no more hope in her to live a normal life. All I had done until now was just for preparing her. I didn’t really enjoy it. It just had to be done. What I had in mind now was different. For the first time since we arrived my cock got hard as a rock.
I strapped her tight on her back onto my table and prepared my saw and put my massive iron into the fire. Slowly I lifted her left tit and began to saw upwards. The loudness of her screams hurt my ears and I was afraid that they could get damaged. But then I remembered that if everything went well these were the last few hours that I would need them anyway. I laughed when I thought about it. As soon as I separated her tit from her body I used the hot iron to burn out the wound so that she wouldn’t bleed out. Then I did the same to her right tit.
Call me crazy or maybe even perverted but suddenly I had an awesome idea. I put on her bra and inserted both her tits into it. Her warm blood flew over my breast and stomach and I loved it. Having real tits felt kind of strange but in a good way.
But my guest didn’t care at all. First I thought she was simply impolite but then I thought that maybe she was getting a bit weak from blood loss and pain. She couldn’t do her task when she was too weak so I decided to go easy on her from now on. The last hour we spent with cutting and burning her skin on various places. It was important for me that she would never want anyone to see her naked again. Because only without hope she would work as I intended. The final step was to put her hair on fire. It burnt for minutes and the smell was horrible. But it was worth it because when I stepped back she looked like a monster.

As I said in the beginning, now this is the moment I‘ve been waiting for. In expectation for the next hours I’m starting to get aroused like never before. With shaking hands I lock the steel door and show her how I swallow the key (which is kind of painful but sometimes you have to make sacrifices).
I’m starting to explain her the rules. That there is only one door with a normal lock which key I swallowed and an additional time lock that opens in 12 hours. She will be free from now on so I unlock her but she doesn’t dare to move. With much care I help her to get up from the table and lay down where she has been for the last hours. With the still warm foot and wrist locks I start to fixate myself on the table. The last wrist lock has to be closed by her. With this wrist lock my life will be completely in her hand. I’ll have to bear whatever she has in her mind. She doesn’t seem to trust me which hurts a little bit. But when I reminded her that we might switch places again if she doesn’t close that lock she quickly gave in.

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More to come, just warming up.
Feedback is cool. I'm a newbie.

Sanctify the Dark

The knights of a faraway land had come not for battle, but for slaughter. Penelope was lucky to have found a hiding place in time. Even for ten years old, she was exceptionally small and frail. Not exactly fast on her feet, her only hope was to squeeze into someplace small and hidden and wait out the raid.

The fair-haired child watched it all from beneath an overturned cart. Feet rushed passed her narrow peek hole. Shrieks and howls of pain and death, gallons upon gallons of hot blood soaking into the packed dirt streets, and already corpses littered the ground like so many discarded dolls.
The stench of death was overpowering. Penelope caught a whiff and retched loudly. She cursed the reflex as one of the knights stopped carving up a corpse and glanced her way. He flourished his blade and approached her hiding place with a predator’s swagger.

His boot broke her line of sight for a moment before it’s owner peeked under the cart. The man’s eyes were shrouded by his great helm, but his intentions were unmistakable. He reached under the cart and dragged Penelope out by the hair.

Penelope yelped girlishly and tried to crawl away, but a heavy foot kicked the little girl onto her back and pinned her down. She squirmed and clawed at the knight’s leg, but to no avail.

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The little elf was trembling.

The orcs had them herded into the village square like cattle. Elves. Elven women, to be precise; the men and boys were elsewhere, likely being butchered for meat. Their dozens of wives and daughters looked on helplessly, awaiting whatever brutality the savages had planned.

But only one little elf was chosen. Much to the lamentation of this little girl, a long-lived elf young by even human standards, her village had refused to pay the toll. The toll the orcs demanded. The toll they realized, as their magic bounced uselessly off of steel-thick orc skin some minutes previous, that they really should have paid.

She was beautiful. She had only recently entered into puberty, and she possessed all the graces of lust and youth at once. Her skin was creamy pale, her chest puffy and soft. Her face was that of a goddess, even through the tear-filled, horrified expression she currently wore. Her naked body was like living art.

Her older sister looked on from the crowd as they lowered the rope around her neck. It was a simple contraption; just a rope and a support beam to throw it over. One of the monsters would pull on the rope, and the little elf would be raised by her fragile neck. A classic execution.

"At least it'll be quick." The older sister thought to herself, eyes welling up with frustration. "She may not even realize what's happening until..."

One of the orcs was addressing the crowd. Apparently, if she could understand his roaring speech, this was a special execution. This little girl was to be made an example of.

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