Superhero Rivalry

"Now that you're officially a member of the team, it's time for me to show you our secret weapon," said Novahawk with a little smirk, her glowing green eyes wandering up and down Hyperbunny's athletic body.

"Huh? We've got a secret weapon?"

Hyperbunny hopped up from the couch with a big grin. She was 18 years old, bouncy and perky, always smiling, with long blond hair and perfect skin, and her costume included long ears that would often flop down in front of her face. Her costume was both backless and strapless, the fuzzy white bullet-proof fabric held to her large breasts and flat belly by specially designed adhesive. The suit stretched to give her total freedom of movement and make her breasts very bouncy. It wrapped around to cover her firm butt with a fuzzy ball to represent a bunny tail. Bare legs showed off her powerfully muscular thighs, and a low cut revealed the tops of her breasts and most of her cleavage.

"That's right. Let's go down to the vault and I'll show you."

Novahawk was the leader of the team, 35 years old with sharply defined features and short brown hair. She wore a slim jetpack on her back with mechanical wings that folded neatly away when not in use. Her costume was twin strips of tough red fabric that looped over her shoulders and under her crotch, connecting to her jetpack in the back and tied together by a zigzag of lacing down her front. The lacing was loose enough to give a wide window into her cleavage. Her breasts were by far the largest on the team before Hyperbunny arrived. Novahawk's flawless orbs were firm and athletic, held tightly in place by her costume without a trace of bounce.

"Say, Novahawk, you're not jealous because I'm stronger and faster than you, right?" Hyperbunny frowned and fidgetted with one of her fuzzy rabbit ears.


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Long story short: I wrote this for another, Touhou focused site. While they may be able to speak of writing quality, the important thing is whether the story is hot if you're into girls stabbing other girls. I have no idea if it is. And so I cross-post here, where I can more likely garner such opinions. I'm not wholly sure it isn't a little tame for the site on average, but, it's the first place to come to mind for something bloody. So, enjoy, hopefully.

...


With a crack, the red-skinned oni's face snaps backwards as a massive, muscled arm smashes a fist into it; the rest of his body soon follows, hurtling through the air and tumbling along the ground several dozen yards to crash against the wall of a nearby building, leaving cracks upon it as he lays there unconscious. A girl of silver, braided hair, clad in maid uniform, stoops to observe the unconscious oni suddenly blocking her path. Yuugi, meanwhile, sighs and dusts off her knuckles as the ring of spectators cheer and an energetic male voice nearby calls out, “And that's twenty nine in a row! Even three on one, the Oni of Oni cannot be stopped! Will anyone even come forth to challenge her after that one?!”

Yuugi takes the large gourd of sake in her other hand and upends it, pouring copious amounts of alcohol straight down her throat. She mutters to herself, “Goddamn weaklings. Shit's fuckin' boring.” She hasn't had a good scrap in who knows how long, and this little fight club doesn't help. Looking around the crowd, it seemed the announcer was right; no one else wanted to step forward this evening, they'd gotten their fun. There was, however, the maid clinically examining the guy who'd been knocked unconscious upon her path. That silver, it was familiar... ah, yes, wasn't that the head maid of that vampire mansion? Actually, hold on. She was supposed to be lightning quick. Maybe if Yuugi actually had to work to punch someone... As Sakuya stands up, no longer enamored by the effects of Yuugi's blow upon the man, the large oni calls out, “Oi! Dog of the Scarlet Devil, was it?”

Sakuya hardly has the time to take a single stride before freezing once more, turning to regard Yuugi through the gap in the audience. “Do you require something from me?” she asks, rather coldly. “I'm on important business for the Mistress, so if it's nothing urgent-”

“Come into the ring,” Yuugi all but demands, polishing off her drink. “You're damn fast, right? I need someone I can't hit so easy. Why don't we go for a while? You can even use your knives, I don't care. Probably can't even cut me.” It's a very dismissive tone she takes in calling out the chief maid, all but outright stating the only thing Sakuya's good for is scrambling for her life.


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Long time lurker, first time storyteller. All stories here take place in what I'm tentatively calling the Frumpverse, as all stories here adhere to the same ruleset through wildy different universes and settings.
My Arrowverse stories are by far the most detailed and give the most info, si I'll start with them.

While I'm pretty sure I don't actually have to say this but I will anyways just in case. I think it'll become pretty clear where I stand on a certain politician, but don't care to discFuss it, so if you don't have anything to say about my stories, it would be best if you said nothing.

And without further adieu...

Korra For Breakfast
Tags: F/F, Cooking, Cannibalism, Non-Fatal, Romantic.

This story is (loosely) based off an edit I did a while back (https://www.gurochan.cx/g/src/1433907141292.png).

Posting this in its own thread because posting newly completed stories in a giant thread for people to enjoy is apparently a terrible idea that people hate (since it has rendered absolutely no feedback whatsoever).

Anyway, Enjoy.

---

"What's the most delicious thing you've ever tasted?" Korra asked her girlfriend as they relaxed together on the couch in front of the roaring fire.


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P R O L O G U E

The War was not a pretty one. There is no pretty war but The War started out pretty, in that it was relatively bloodless with a few bombings and mostly protests.

But then the government was dominated by a single theocratic faction, and committed genocide like the world had never seen before. Missiles launched from satellites destroyed millions residing in ghettos instantly, millions more were locked up.

Former allies knew something had to be done; They equipped and trained the remnants of the previous government and whoever would join them, and even sent in their own Special Forces. Rival superpowers took their chance and armed their own proxies with massive numbers of cheap but effective weapons.

The theocrats found they had been both outnumbered by one revolutionary faction, numbering tens of millions of hardened soldiers, and outgunned by the other.

It was at this time that the rival superpowers marched on their circumstantial allies with legions, and a single nation's civil war turned into an even bloodier World War.


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Space Goo

"Holy shit! Jay Cooper! I can't believe it!" groaned Alice as she stood topless in the cheerleader changing room and adjusted her makeup.

"Believe it," said Jennifer with a smirk, "Tonight at Serene Lake Lookout. Full moon, clear sky, bright stars, perfect view of the meteor shower."

"The star quarterback that single-handedly won us the championship last year, and he's been available for six months. Who hasn't made a pass at him? What have you got that the rest of us don't?"

"Oh, gosh, I don't know. Maybe it's..."

"On second thought, don't answer that. Damn you, Jennifer. What do you eat to make your tits so big?"

Jennifer bounced her bare breasts in her hands. "Just good genetics, I guess."

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Dick Girl Incest, Impregnation and Snuff
A Dick Girls of Gahoul Story
Herm, inc, preg, snuff, implied can

Pixie and Trixie were twins. Identicle twins basically. But everyone on Gahoul was identicle with their line. Pixie and Trixie were Snowflakes; one of the four races of dickgirl on their planet. All the dickgirls were beautiful, large tits, tight pussies, and above that, a nice big cock.
Now the four races cooperated most of the time, but when it came mating time each month, they hunted down and fucked each other. And the sex always ended up with a pregnancy.
So Pixie and Trixie were identicle, but they were also twins. They had shared a womb together, which made them sisters.
It was almost mating time, and the two had a very kinky plan.
"Damn, you look hot, Pixie."
"Thanks Trixie, you look good enough to eat."
Trixie giggled at the double entendre.
"Come here you little slut," said Pixie, bending over.
Trixie looked at the sight of her sisters wet pussy, with its large cock and balls hanging in front of it, and quickly made her way behind her sister. Sliding in her own hefty cock, she inserted her tongue in the hole behing Pixies neck and down to her honeypot.

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"Her name was Faith. Her ass was red. So was her face.
Her wrists were bound to her opposing elbows in a straight jacket. What else. Oh. And her tits were small, but her nipples. Jeeze. Big and long."

"The one with holes for her breasts, that one?"

"Yeah except this time, dig this, they were that small. She was flat chested, I mean the boob fat was there... barely. We decided to tie her nipples."

"Her fault for not having boobs. So what did they do before you showed up, with her ass like that."

"Well, they spanked her. A lot. But they saved her for me to rape."

"Really?"


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Just a short moment ago, he was at the bar, alone. Pounding back his own pathetic sorrows with vodka and gin, ever ashamed of his inability to ever find the right person and have sex. His friends teased him back at the university: “virgin.” Which, ordinarily would not have bothered the man much, but he was quickly on the path to twenty-four and he was ever aware of his age combined with his lack of experience.

Lucas Ledford, known to his friends as Luke, wasn’t exactly unattractive. He had an uncontrolled brown mop for a hairdo and didn’t put much effort into his wardrobe, but he had strong features. Dazzling blue eyes, a boyish upturned nose, and full lips lightly surrounded by little blonde whiskers. It took him awhile for puberty to really set in (his voice only just broke at seventeen) but his looks were starting to settle in. Unfortunately for the young man, he was also rather short at only 5’7” – and his tiny dick didn’t help matters much.

One could imagine his surprise, then, when someone came on to him that night. Luke could have sworn he had hit the jackpot. A woman approached him at the bar, a beautiful woman, that bought him drink after drink after drink. She had the most dazzling features – crystal-like blue eyes, gorgeous black hair, the most luscious lips imaginable, and the most perfect body form he’d ever seen. This woman was older, for sure, and he thought that maybe that was why she refused to tell him her name. But the youth was ever so turned on by this woman’s charm (and the drinks were helping, too) that he couldn’t resist asking her to follow him to his apartment. She accepted.

Now, here they were, her smiling at him teasingly as he stripped down to his Hanes white briefs. He was worried that that might turn her off – after all, most of the guys his age had “graduated” to something higher than the most basic of basic. But the woman rose from her seat on the bed and gently placed her hand on the cloth that just barely protected his privates. He was slightly embarrassed at the wet precum that soaked through his briefs instantly as she touched him.

“Luke,” she whispered into his ear, nibbling a little bit at the lobe. The young man moaned as his lips parted in a delicate smile. That was the first time anyone had said his name right – such delicate desire, copious amounts of sensuality that was enough to give him a permanent hardon. “Luke,” whispered the woman again, her hand slightly bending back the tight briefs that protected his bulging manhood.

“Oh,” he groaned softly as her finger slid underneath his foreskin, tugging it up and down across his head. The young man knew he had to be careful – as a virgin, it was likely for him to reach orgasm with even the slightest bit of stimulation. Resist, he begged himself, bucking his hips in place as she played with his member curiously. “B-Be careful,” warned Luke, turning his head to face his lover.

“Of what?”

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Liv walked away from the reception desk and down the hall toward Suite 1056 - per her instructions - while absent-mindedly rubbing her arm just below the shoulder where she'd received the injection a moment earlier. Her raven black hair flowed unrestrained, tucked behind her fair, white ears, and slightly lifted by her gait.

Not long ago, she wouldn't have expected to be doing this. Back when cannibalism was first legalised nation-wide, about a decade ago, it was all the rage for young people to go off to the butcher. Any occasion worth celebrating would have a feast, courtesy of a friend or family member, or sometimes just a person who'd done it for the experience. Now, though, with most of the willing population gone, and meat demand supplied by prisons, there weren't a lot of people doing it any more.

Liv had made up her mind about a month ago. Her boyfriend's birthday would be tomorrow, and having been stuck in constant unemployment for the last 8 months left her at a loss for the funds to buy something she considered suitably extravagant. Then she'd seen an internet post detailing someone's DIY roasting of their teenage daughter. The recipe and final product had looked delicious, and seeing it convinced her of her course of action. However, she wasn't going to be able to cook herself, and her boyfriend was far from competent in the kitchen, so she'd called the meat processing plant just out of town to ask if they'd do a custom order for cheap if the meat was supplied. They'd graciously complied.

And now, here she was, walking to the hall to - the nice older lady at the front desk told her - be gutted, before heading out to the kitchen. The injection she'd been given acted as a pain-killer and inhibited her body's natural tendency to repair wounds in order to ensure she'd remain alive and fresh for as long as possible. Already, she could feel a pleasntly light sensation creeping up from her extremities.

Reaching the end of the long front hallway, Liv looked to her right to see the room she was looking for; a painted steel door with a thin, frosted-over window like all the rest. Straight ahead of her in the hall were the large, stainless-steel double doors that lead, industrial kitchen - she could hear the muffled whirring of dozens of machines, the bustle of factory workers, and the hiss of steam from just beyond. Not to long from now, she'd be in there, to be handled and fire-roasted. Just a big piece of meat.

She turned to the door with the little numbers "1056", her blue eyes wide as a thrill of anticipation and fear made her heart speed up a bit in her chest. Timidly, she decided to knock, rather than barge in.

"Door's not locked," came the reply from the other side.

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New to guro fiction, experimenting with flash fiction (1000 words or less.) Feel free to leave a comment/feedback

***

Wet slaps punctuated the silence of the chamber, mingling with the sobs of the naked bitch beneath him.

"Quit your whimpering, cunt. You're dead no matter how much crying you do."

Kimiko, the whimpering cunt, was bound to the guillotine, on her knees, head and hands thrust through a stockade above which a wide steel blade hung ominously overhead. Her body shuddered with each thrust of his hard dick and her yellow skin was slick with perspiration. He grabbed a handful of her plump ass, reveling in the way her flesh quivered and bounced from his pounding.

He peeked over the stockade at the tripod-mounted camera. The lens was angled downward at her face to capture every moment of her anguish in high-definition. There were no spectators on the other end; only after he was finished would his fans get to enjoy the footage. The guillotine's trigger was connected to the nerve on the underside of his dick and he had been teaming her hole for close to a half-hour. He'd have to do a bit of editing.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'm almost done."

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This is a commission of mine which is a parody of a well-known daytime television. Perry Signer had a fantastic idea for getting the ratings of his show up, he was going to snuff eight porn stars on television.

Milked and Harvested - A Vespah Story

A boy's sister grows tired of his incessant erections, and his subsequent requests for relief from them by her hand. So, she Vespahs (Vortex Extracted Semen and Penis Automatic Harvester) him. Just how long can he and his manhood last, under the relentless machine's draining influence, before it takes everything from him..

1 - The Final Straw

 "Ah, sis? S-sorry to interrupt you, but do you suppose that you could..?" James asked, his voice a bit tentative.

 Julie, who was relaxing comfortably on the living room couch, laying out along its length with her shoulders and head propped up on one armrest, looked away from her book and up to her brother. She arched an eyebrow when she saw him, standing before her with his shorts around his ankles, and with his penis, quite rampantly erect, pointed almost directly at her. His hopeful expression faded a bit when Julie's eyes narrowed as she regarded both him and his erection.

 "I took care of you this morning, James." Julie replied, her brows coming together in a mild frown. "It's mom's turn now. Go ask her."

 "I.. I know, and I did." James replied, biting his lip a little and looking worried at his sister's darkening expression. "She's busy making dinner, and said she didn't have time to do both before she had to leave for work."

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On John's browser there was a new message from one of the ads that he had posted on those internet classifieds. These ads were for an adult modeling gig, placed in various cities, not his own. It read,

Hello sir, my name is Amy Beth, and I am interested in the modeling gig. I actually live in a small town about 60 miles from Miami. Attached are some pictures of me. I hope this will be just the thing I need to get out of this nowhere town and on my way to becoming a star.

The attached pictures were of a blonde girl with a baby doll face, smallish breasts, and a bit of a butt. John liked what he saw, and thought to himself, this was going to be fun. He immediately began planning his trip to Florida.

---

John opened his laptop to reply to Amy.
I'll be flying in to Miami tonight. I hope you’re ready for filming tomorrow. I've rented a location for the shoot. Its an old warehouse, I'm attaching a map so you know where it is. See you tomorrow.
He sent the message off into the void of the internet, before closing the laptop. He laid back in the motel bed, anticipating the events of the next day.
Though he told Amy that he was flying in tonight, in reality, he had been in town for the better part of a month, scouting out locations, buying and assembling his equipment. The last thing to do was to book his train back home, before the fun began.

---

Amy Beth opened the email from the man that she hoped would help propel her to stardom. She couldn’t help but feel excited and nervous at the same time. She loved sex, so much so, that she wouldn’t keep a high school boyfriend, moving on to the next guy once she was bored. She had never been filmed before, and that was, she assumed, the source of the butterflies in her stomach. John had been telling her that this would be a BDSM shoot, and that the genre was gaining traction in the industry due to a certain series of books and film. She had tried being tied up before, and rather enjoyed it. This was going to be a breeze.

---

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My first attempt at writing a snuff story. Not good I know, but would love some feedback still.

Arya of House Stark confidently strode into the great hall, flanked by two soldiers. the dim lights and crackling fire creating an oddly eerie atmosphere. The walls were lined with armed guards, towering over the significantly smaller girl. Not that Arya was worried, even if worst came to worst she was confident in her abilities to protect herself. There was nobody more lethal with a dagger than herself.

Not that there was anything to worry about of course.

Moving without a sound, light on her feet just as the faceless men had taught her, she stepped into the center. Walking quietly was just one of many skills the young assassin now commanded. Others were stealth and acting. Both of which had served her well in uncovering Littlefinger's ploys and schemes.

Littlefinger...Arya had last seen him in Harrenhal conspiring with Tywin Lannister against her brother Robb during the war of the five kings. She knew this man could not be trusted and had secretly shared her views and ideas with Sansa. She had agreed. Littlefinger was a vicious, small, spiteful man who was nothing but a nuisance. So together the Stark sisters had played a little game, tricking and teasing Littlefingers, uncovering his true intentions.

Even this supposed arrest was nothing but a farce, the two sisters keen to prolong their little fun game for as long as they pleased before getting rid of him. The plan was clear, make it appear like Arya was the one being charged before catching Littlefinger unawares and turning the tables on him. Of course, they could arrested him right away instead, but the sisters were intent on giving him as little preparation time as possible. So if he was arrested beforehand he likely might come up with some annoying scheme. No, better catch him by surprise, Arya was looking forward to see his glorious expression once reality dawned on the traitor from the Vale.

Barely able to restrain her gloating, having to try very hard to maintain her facade Arya folded her hands behind her lower back, grey eyes wandering between the flanking soldiers before briefly darting towards Littlefinger standing in the corner, and finally settling on her siblings seated at the high table.

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