Just a Job


Everyone had thought that when society turned to cannibalism and state sponsored snuff, it would be because the population exploded and needed to be controlled. They thought that females would outnumber males by orders of magnitude. They thought it would be a casual thing where very few human lives meant anything, and those few could snuff the rest with wild abandon. When the end of traditional society came, these were all proven very wrong. The previous war had been fought with nuclear weapons, but the last war of humanity was waged with blades and stones and fists.



In the end, wisdom prevailed. The few remaining leaders looked around and saw the crops burning, the oceans running red with blood, and truly every human left on the planet being able to fit in one skyscraper from the Golden Age. So they called a truce, and they set about rebuilding. Homes were restored, electricity rediscovered. Crops planted, rivers cleaned, the worst of the hunger went away. Eight generations later, times were still relatively lean, but nobody went hungry. Everyone had enough, and the population was slowly recovering, because every citizen contributed their share, in food and offspring.



The laws changed with an eye towards pragmatism. Careers in the arts disappeared. If you were a writer, a painter, a philosopher, all of these things were fine, but you did them AFTER the work in the fields was done. Everyone, man, woman and child worked to plant, tend, and harvest crops. The climate of Australia, the only habitable continent left had grown moderate year round. They rotated crops and in this way, farming was carried out every day of the year. The new society had leaders, those leaders worked right next to everyone else, and they met the same quotas. If you couldn’t meet your quota, you were deemed ‘insufficiently valuable to society’ and put to death. The only time you were nt required to meet a farming quota was the last 4 months of pregnancy and the first 2 after giving birth. The stability of the population was deemed more important than even their contribution to the food supply.



The same applied to offspring. Starting at 14 years old, every person was required to produce a child every two years until they were 24, and every 5 after that until 41 for females and and 51 for males. If a child lived to see the day after their 15th birthday, it meant that they had produced a child before that point, and they had produced another after that 15th birthday if they lived to see the day after their 17th. This applied equally to males and females. If a girl and boy were born on the same day and she did not give birth, DNA testing did not prove his fathering of a child, their 15th birthday would be marked with two little corpses swinging next to each other. They were also given a preliminary test at 12 to determine the odds of their being able to create a child once they were more solidly into puberty. Less than 50% and their 12th birthday would be their very last day. Homosexuality was not frowned upon even a little bit, there was no reason to care. But that didn’t change the rules. A boy or girl could do whatever they liked as many times as they liked with their same sex associate on their own time, but they were still required to produce the same number of children. If you LIKED having sex with the opposite gender, that was just great, but to the society as a whole, it was completely irrelevant, you just had to do it. As often and with as many people as you needed to increase the population.



This was the world in which Timmy and Alice found themselves. They were 15 as of just a few hours ago. Both had engaged in sex many times, trying many different partners, but to look at them, anyone could have told you they were long shots. They stood on their stools, each with a rope already around their neck. They wore nothing but boxers, both of them….and with their hair cut short to not impede the rope, a stranger would have been hard pressed to tell you which was the boy and which was the girl, and neither looked a day over 12. They were ‘late bloomers’ in pre-war terms. These days, they had not properly entered puberty and would never live to do so, mankind was in a better place than it had been, but food was still too valuable to waste on those who would not be able to contribute their share to the future of humanity.



They were both gagged so they wouldn’t bite their tongues off. There would be no decadent feasts on their flesh by a few wealthy citizens, they would be cut up and distributed just like old world farm animals, to supplement the vegetable based diets that had become the new norm, they had stopped raising farm animals, and even human flesh was just extra calories, including cuts one would think of as delicacies, like the tongue.



They had been given deep enemas to clean them out, there would be no messes and they would be ready to cook without excessive work. The butcher was prepping some things, she was an attractive redhead who was very good at her job. There was no reading of sentences, no coroner, no doctor to confirm death. This was not an execution, this was two citizens doing their duty to society. Alana was very good at her job, and she was well respected for that, she would prep them, kill them, clean them out, and take them apart. She needed no help, no supervision, she got the job done. This also meant that if she wanted to have some fun, do some things that weren’t technically allowed, the leaders of the community looked the other way.



Alana dug through her bag and produced two butt plugs. Electronics were not exactly rare, but these two toys had still cost her quite a bit in trade, and Alana felt that they had been more than worth it. The plugs were large and rubber, and they vibrated. Start low, increase to max pulsing, which you would be able to hear if the recipient spoke, then back down, like a wave. She went to Timmy, the little boy. He had tears in his eyes, Alana adjusted his noose so he would die faster, then kissed the top of his head “It’s okay buddy, take a deep breath, there you go”. She brushed his cheek, he was so cute, big blue eyes, effeminate features. Skinny and soft and little. She wanted to keep him, but knew she couldn’t, but she could still make this easier on the kids.



She stepped behind him, lowered the back of his boxers a bit. He made a little noise of protest, he gave his thigh a quick rub “Easy there, this won’t hurt, and you’ll be glad to have it in a minute. She squeezed his cute pale little butt cheek, then lubed and lined up the plug. His next noise around the gag was alarm, she shushed him gently, then started to push it in. His breath quickened immediately, he squirmed, but he seemed less upset than before. He slumped a little once it was seated in him. Alana had seen this a few times, his face was flushed red, pupils dilated, and there was a very faint smile on his lips. She chuckled “Aww! That’s adorable! Let me guess kiddo, you like the guys a bit better?” He nodded bashfully, she gave him a hug “ I wish I’d known, I could have gotten Frank in here. Sorry buddy.” One more hug, and she moved to Alice.



Alice and Alana did know each other, their families were close. Alana didn’t hug the girl, she knew Alice didn’t like getting intimate, she was a very withdrawn child, and she wanted to put on a brave and indifferent face. She was a wannabe goth, jet black hair, and her makeup had been removed, this was really the first time Alana had seen her not deathly pale in years, and now it was Alana’s job to make that cold, dead look more than an illusion. Alice didn’t want hugs or affection, well maybe she did, but that was the front she put on, and Alana saw no point in taking that from her. The face she put on was a horny little slut with a taste for a bit of pain, Alana couldn’t figure out how she hadn’t gotten knocked up multiple times, the girl took anyone who looked at her with interest and dragged them into the nearest room to bang. Alana did know what WOULD make Alice more comfortable.



Alana grabbed her charge’s nipples and twisted them both, hard. Alice gasped, and Alana silenced her with a kiss. It was not gentle or loving or affectionate, or any of the things Alana would have preferred. She was a nurturing individual, but that wasn’t what would make dying easier for the girl. This kiss was hungry and heavy and demanding. Alice tensed in shock, then responded in kind. For Alana, she was happiest when kissing didn’t feel like a competition, but for this kid, Alana had her by 15 years, 6 inches, and a LOT of kisses, she was going to WIN. Lots of lip biting, lots of backing off and pursuing, it really did look a lot like a fight. While they were occupied in this way, Alana squeezed Alice’s butt cheeks, enjoying the feel of teen flesh, then inserted the second butt plug that she’d pulled sleight of hand to get back there without the girl noticing. She didn’t lube it, she didn’t ease it in, Alana just lined it up and drove it home. Alice froze, groaned, her knees buckled and she fell against Alana, causing the noose to squeeze her a bit. She bit her lip and shuddered, a wet spot appearing on her underwear “Thank you” she mumbled breathlessly.



Alana kissed her on the top of the head, she couldn’t help it. She pressed the first remote and Alice cried out as the powerful buzzing started. Alana replaced the gag, then gave her maybe half a minute to enjoy it. She stepped up, put on her best husky voice, and whisperd “Die for me slut” and pulled the chair out from under Alice. She pressed the second remote and Timmy let out a long happy sigh as his plug got to work, then Alana turned her attention back to Alice.



The cute goth struggled against the rope. Her chest was flat, basically boyish, but her nipples still stuck out nicely. Her wet little tongue had been forced out a bit by the rope, and her face was turning a bright, painful red. She didn’t do a graceful dance, Alana had only seen something like that a few times. Her legs were moving in a wildly varying tempo, sometimes halting, almost cautious, sometimes jittery and frantic, never coordinated. Alana masturbated, wanting Alice to know that she appreciated the show. At long last, Alice twisted in such a way that the knot cut off blood flow, and her struggles subsided shortly after.



As Alice was going still, Alana heard an odd little gurgle from Timmy. She looked over, the boy was flushed, breathing harder than he had been, and there was a new dark spot on his underwear. He saw that she had seen, and he looked absolutely mortified, humiliated. He tried to shift it out of view, but she laughed playfully “ It’s okay buddy. I’ve had 4 kids, I’ve killed a hundred more, that is NOTHING new, and it’s EXACTLY what the plug was supposed to do for you. Feel more relaxed now?” He attempted to say something around his gagged, then settled for nodding thoughtfully. She hugged him gently “ I’m glad little guy, you sleep well, okay?” he looked at her quizzically, she answered his unspoken question by pulling the chair out from under him. She had placed his knot differently, he wasn’t a pain slut like Alice, he wouldn’t enjoy an extended hanging, so she made it quick. The knot squeezed his carotid artery, and even though his eyes stayed open, they went unfocused almost immediately, Timmy wasn’t home anymore. Alana touched his flat chest, felt no heartbeat, collected her butt plugs, and got both children down.



Next was butchering. Now that the kids were gone and had no emotions, she was just a professional. Her kindness wasn’t an act, she really was extremely fond of everyone who came to ‘visit’, but now they were just meat. Their tender young flesh yielded effortlessly to her antique knives. She hung them up by the feet and opened them up, taking out all organs and draining them of blood (she couldn’t help noting that this returned Alice to her preferred coloration) and reducing them to a pile of different cuts.They were skinny kids, but they still produced enough meat for enough stew that the entire community would get to sample it. Their tongues came out, but she was allowed to keep the rest of the heads. She would preserve them, add them to the rest in her display, she liked sleeping with one in her arms if she didn’t have an actual lover. Alana was proud to serve her community, and she hoped Alice and Timmy had been as well.

I love your writing! The last story is an interesting take on a dolcett themed world. Well done! I wouldn't mind more stories in that setting, if that's something you'd be interested in. Anyway, keep up the good work!

Thank you so much!! I don't get a lot of comments on here, I love to hear if people like this stuff! I have a couple other things closer to done that will probably be posted first, but I would DEFINITELY like to come back to that setting, I have been meaning to have a pregnant girl feature again, I love them, so for sure coming back to the world! <3

Something short and cute, aimed at the tastes of a friend <3


Sunday Breakfast


The clone of Gal Gadot woke to the heavenly scent of girl ham, Sunday mornings really were the best. She had fallen asleep with a loli in her arms, she kissed the girl on the cheek, gently rousing her “good morning pretty girl” she whispered fondly. They were not a couple, lolis had such a short life expectancy that it wasn’t worth it, but Gal had just broken up with a romantic interest and held felt like hugging a squishy little teddy bear. The adorable ginger rolled over and looked at Gal, blushing, she and every other kid in the harem had a crush on Gal (and most of the other counselors). Gal laughed “Oh all right” and kissed her.


They made out for a few minutes, the loli not taking much notice of Gal’s hands shifting on her jaw. Gal broke the kiss, the loli looked flushed, very happy, and a bit dazed. Gal smiled, and then in a quick twist and snap, the munchkin tensed for just a moment, then slumped, her eyes blank, her neck at an odd angle. Gal had cried after sex last night, and she didn’t want that getting around, she had been emotional since the breakup. The life of a non-counselor harem girl counted for effectively nothing, and it was so easy for an adult as fit as Gal to snap a neck. The kid had been adorable and made a cute corpse, but the act of taking her life meant less to Gal than stubbing her toe.



With that taken care of and her post-orgasmic breakdown a secret again, Gal eagerly started her day. She washed up, admired her beautiful, strong body in the full length mirror, then wrapped her hair in a towel, threw on a bathrobe and went down for breakfast. She got hugs and kisses from a number of girls, both on the stairs and as she entered the kitchen. The harem was a happy, affectionate place. Gal knew she would eventually be snuffed, probably in the next year or two as she was one of the oldest girls, there was still nowhere she would rather be.



The wonderful smells of breakfast were much stronger in here. Biscuits with girl butter, eggs cooked in tit fat, and among other things, platters of girl ham that had been a tween the previous day. Everything was so much fresher here. There was no question about where the food came from or if the meat had been treated humanely. On any given Sunday morning, the ham Gal so enjoyed, she had probably fucked it in the last few weeks.



Gal filled her plate with fruits and biscuits, and of course, ham and eggs. She set her plate at an open seat, walked to the orange juice, and reconsidered. She took her glass back to the table and waved to Tegan. The hugely well endowed girl with the baby face that did not at all match her G cups came over eagerly. She was on hormones that caused her to lactate constantly, and produce serious quantities of milk. She unhooked her expansive nursing bra, looking forward to this.



Gal smiled and rubbed the big beautiful tits presented to her. Tegan hadn’t been milked during the night, and her boobs ached. They were heavy and sore and felt ready to burst. Daddies Gimli and Nixon had implanted small pumps in her mammary glands so she wouldn’t leak, milk would only come out from milking. Tegan was one of several girls modified for this duty, they all prayed that they would be milked at breakfast, being forced to wait for making after dinner milkshakes was agonizing.
Gal rubbed Tegan’s breasts, admiring, weighing, openly teasing her with the promise of relief. Tegan whined pitifully, and looked at Gal with big puppy dog eyes “Please Gal?”. The counselor relented “Oh Tegan, you know I can’t say no to the eyes”. She looked the blonde in the eye and smiled as she leaned down and took that first sip right from the boob. Tegan sighed happily, that was the kind of thing she liked even when it wasn’t letting off pressure. Then Gal tugged her nipples and filled two glasses with the best milk in the world. Tegan still had plenty to give, but she was feeling so much better. They hugged, Gal handed her one of the glasses and instructed her to stay hydrated, which was a concern with the milker hormones. Then Gal attacked her breakfast with the appetite of a young woman who had spent half the night having sex. Her brain was swimming in serotonin, the price of living here would eventually be her life, but the Sunday breakfasts alone made it worth it.

.

I was working on a sequel to 'Just a Job', but this came more easily. I love feedback! :)


Do I Have a Destiny?


Kimmy got home from school “Finally, I thought we would NEVER get that bus running!” she griped. The school bus had broken down on the other side of town, and as a result the sun was nearly set. Kimmy dropped her backpack and pulled her sundress off before unclipping her little training bra and letting it fall to the ground “That’s better” she sighed happily. As an active student, Kimmy had minimal rights, and was required to wear clothes during school hours, but was safe from snuffing except for actual infractions. She had to wear clothes at school, but she HATED them and stripped every day as soon as she got home.


Kimmy was a good student, she got the honor roll every semester, she turned in all of her work, the teachers liked her. And Kimmy didn’t hate school, but it wasn’t where her interests were. She liked spending time with her classmates, reading in the library, she really did find learning engaging. But Kimmy wanted to be a Milker. Human milk was delicious and expensive, and the females who completed the rigorous tests and got to undergo the procedures and get certified were celebrities, at least until they ran dry. Kimmy had a picture of her favorite Milker in her room. Lactatia was everything Kimmy wanted to be, tall, beautiful, with a set of MAGNIFICENT tits that seemed to always leak in every picture. She was the star of countless commercials, the object of lust in a number of movies. She was confident, wealthy, awesome, and Kimmy REALLY wanted to be like her!


Kimmy….was not ready to be a Milker yet. She looked at her own body in the mirror and sighed. She was small, skinny, with her breasts JUST starting to bud. She was only 13, but she still worried. To even apply to be a Milker, you had to have natural C-cups, they wouldn’t give you the test, much less the supplements to transform her chest into the ludicrous display of flesh Lactacia and other Milkers sported unless that happened, Kimmy couldn’t even TRY if her body didn’t start filling out a lot more.


Kimmy went to the backyard, dropped her panties and stretched out on the grass, thinking about the difficulties between her and her dream was depressing, masturbating always cheered her up, her parents were at a dinner party and would be out late. She closed her eyes, enjoying the pleasant sensations coming from her loins, savoring the feel of the grass, the smells and sounds of the yard at night, the footsteps coming up…..footsteps?


Before the little girl could react, a baseball bat clocked her over the head. She saw stars, felt a searing pain in her skull, it felt like it had been cracked. The bat came down again, this time on her belly. Her whole body convulsed, she couldn’t curl up, couldn’t escape, could only scream. And scream she did, wailing and struggling until a firm stomp to the face stunned her. Her assailant walked around to stare at her and she recognized her neighbor Mr. Emerson, holding the bat and a knife. He had always been good to her, always had treats when he came over, let her swim in his pool, Kimmy with her now swelling brain could not process why this was happening.


Mr. Emerson knelt down, pinned the girl with one hand as she sobbed and struggled as best she could, hot tears and blood on her angelic little face, and drew his knife across her belly. Kimmy hadn’t thought that even a knife would hurt worse than the bat, but she had been very wrong. The cliché was that it felf like fire. Kimmy had felt fire, she had collected burns before. That would have been a mercy. Her belly split before the knife and as he grasped and pulled it open and Kimmy coughed blood, she forgot her own name. Her mind broke, she was going into shock. The only thought she could cling to was “Now I can never be like Lacticia” although in her state, with a swelling brain, shock, and pain that all she wanted to do was curl up and die, she couldn’t remember who that was. She saw her killer, not the kindly neighbor, just her killer, reaching around inside her body, producing the most horrifying sounds. Kimmy felt something give, he pulled his hand out. And just before Kimmy slipped into a death where the pain mercifully stopped, Mr. Emerson showed Kimmy her own heart, still beating, moments from realizing she was dead.


Frank Emerson stood, wiping his hands on the grass before he pulled his phone and called Kimmy’s father “Hey Greg, so you know today is the first day of hunting season, right? Well Kimmy was out of the house, all naked, and I thought about calling you first, but you know if she had gone back inside, my permit would have been no good, I hope you don’t mind, but….oh, you planned dinner without her because you hoped that would happen? Yeah, that new knife I showed you, worked real nice. Of course you and Janet can come over when I cook her! Perfect, alright buddy, well I just wanted to let you know. Alright, I’ll clean up here, you two enjoy dinner, see you Saturday”. He hung up and got to work, Greg really was a good buddy…although Frank had a feeling his own daughter might not survive hunting season now. Oh well, it wasn’t the first time. After he had finished up out here, he wanted to celebrate the kill with a piece of pie….and a nice glass of girl milk.

I got writers block on a few projects, but this one just came as fast as I could type. I hope people enjoy, I love feedback!

Do I have a destiny?


Kimmy got home from school “Finally, I thought we would NEVER get that bus running!” she griped. The school bus had broken down on the other side of town, and as a result the sun was nearly set. Kimmy dropped her backpack and pulled her sundress off before unclipping her little training bra and letting it fall to the ground “That’s better” she sighed happily. As an active student, Kimmy had minimal rights, and was required to wear clothes during school hours, but was safe from snuffing except for actual infractions. She had to wear clothes at school, but she HATED them and stripped every day as soon as she got home.


Kimmy was a good student, she got the honor roll every semester, she turned in all of her work, the teachers liked her. And Kimmy didn’t hate school, but it wasn’t where her interests were. She liked spending time with her classmates, reading in the library, she really did find learning engaging. But Kimmy wanted to be a Milker. Human milk was delicious and expensive, and the females who completed the rigorous tests and got to undergo the procedures and get certified were celebrities, at least until they ran dry. Kimmy had a picture of her favorite Milker in her room. Lactatia was everything Kimmy wanted to be, tall, beautiful, with a set of MAGNIFICENT tits that seemed to always leak in every picture. She was the star of countless commercials, the object of lust in a number of movies. She was confident, wealthy, awesome, and Kimmy REALLY wanted to be like her!


Kimmy….was not ready to be a Milker yet. She looked at her own body in the mirror and sighed. She was small, skinny, with her breasts JUST starting to bud. She was only 13, but she still worried. To even apply to be a Milker, you had to have natural C-cups, they wouldn’t give you the test, much less the supplements to transform her chest into the ludicrous display of flesh Lactacia and other Milkers sported unless that happened, Kimmy couldn’t even TRY if her body didn’t start filling out a lot more.


Kimmy went to the backyard, dropped her panties and stretched out on the grass, thinking about the difficulties between her and her dream was depressing, masturbating always cheered her up, her parents were at a dinner party and would be out late. She closed her eyes, enjoying the pleasant sensations coming from her loins, savoring the feel of the grass, the smells and sounds of the yard at night, the footsteps coming up…..footsteps?



Before the little girl could react, a baseball bat clocked her over the head. She saw stars, felt a searing pain in her skull, it felt like it had been cracked. The bat came down again, this time on her belly. Her whole body convulsed, she couldn’t curl up, couldn’t escape, could only scream. And scream she did, wailing and struggling until a firm stomp to the face stunned her. Her assailant walked around to stare at her and she recognized her neighbor Mr. Emerson, holding the bat and a knife. He had always been good to her, always had treats when he came over, let her swim in his pool, Kimmy with her now swelling brain could not process why this was happening.


Mr. Emerson knelt down, pinned the girl with one hand as she sobbed and struggled as best she could, hot tears and blood on her angelic little face, and drew his knife across her belly. Kimmy hadn’t thought that even a knife would hurt worse than the bat, but she had been very wrong. The cliché was that it felf like fire. Kimmy had felt fire, she had collected burns before. That would have been a mercy. Her belly split before the knife and as he grasped and pulled it open and Kimmy coughed blood, she forgot her own name. Her mind broke, she was going into shock. The only thought she could cling to was “Now I can never be like Lacticia” although in her state, with a swelling brain, shock, and pain that all she wanted to do was curl up and die, she couldn’t remember who that was. She saw her killer, not the kindly neighbor, just her killer, reaching around inside her body, producing the most horrifying sounds. Kimmy felt something give, he pulled his hand out. And just before Kimmy slipped into a death where the pain mercifully stopped, Mr. Emerson showed Kimmy her own heart, still beating, moments from realizing she was dead.



Frank Emerson stood, wiping his hands on the grass before he pulled his phone and called Kimmy’s father “Hey Greg, so you know today is the first day of hunting season, right? Well Kimmy was out of the house, all naked, and I thought about calling you first, but you know if she had gone back inside, my permit would have been no good, I hope you don’t mind, but….oh, you planned dinner without her because you hoped that would happen? Yeah, that new knife I showed you, worked real nice. Of course you and Janet can come over when I cook her! Perfect, alright buddy, well I just wanted to let you know. Alright, I’ll clean up here, you two enjoy dinner, see you Saturday”. He hung up and got to work, Greg really was a good buddy…although Frank had a feeling his own daughter might not survive hunting season now. Oh well, it wasn’t the first time. After he had finished up out here, he wanted to celebrate the kill with a piece of pie….and a nice glass of girl milk.

This was getting way too long to post all at once. Part 1 is mostly nonfatal, I am planning a part 2 with some more snuff oriented stuff. If people show some interest, i will finish that and share it. If nobody cares, I probably won't bother. Enjoy! :)

Cold And Hungry


Jack looked out his window, watching the rain. He always loved the rain. Warm and safe in his home, with a roaring fire and a hot drink, it was calming to see the water falling down, the clouds casting the city in an odd light. The whole thing was very soothing.


Two blocks away, and a dozen stories below, huddled in a cardboard box, with newspapers for a blanket, Zoe absolutely did NOT love the rain. It was cold and miserable and it soaked through her cardboard front door, she would need to find a new box to keep the rats and bugs away when she slept. But she was no stranger to discomfort, she could handle the cold, even as she shivered and cry, so cold that it hurt. She could get a new box, she would blow the man who owned the appliance store and he would give her a big refrigerator box and she even got a bit of protein in her diet. All of that could be dealt with. But when it rained, the dumpsters automatically locked so they didn’t fill with water. Zoe had been carrying her box, checking dumpsters for scraps, trying to find something, anything to eat before the rain started. Her last score had been some bread that was not even moldy, just too hard to chew before it was soaked in water. Zoe had plenty of water, that had been a good day. That bread had lasted her for two days…..and run out 4 days ago


Zoe hadn’t found anything before the rain started, all she could do now was shiver and cry from the hunger and cold and pray that it stopped soon. She couldn’t go another day, she couldn’t go another mile. If she didn’t find food at the Cyprus Street dumpster, Zoe didn’t think she would have the energy to get to Founder Avenue.


The rain continued all night and into the next morning. Zoe was too cold and hungry to sleep, her stomach hurt so badly, she daydreamed of the hot meals she saw other people eating, Zoe remembered her last hot meal. She’d only had a handful, each one stood out as a major event in her life, far more important than a birthday. Zoe couldn’t remember a time before the streets, or a parent. She’d never had a reason to care about Christmas or Thanksgiving. Halloween was good, she would make a pirate hat from a newspaper and people would just give her candy. Hot Meal Days were her biggest holidays. The last one had been two years before, when she was ten. She had let the cook at a cheap diner do her in the butt and he had given her bacon and eggs.


She still remembered him fondly. Ever since women had lost all rights before she was born, he could have done that without asking, and certainly without payment. Zoe was skinny and dirty and sad, and STILL ended up being fucked without being asked a few times a month. Some men still liked to get consent, but one who would feed her for it, and a hot meal at that, he was a good man. Thinking of the hot meal and the kind stranger made Zoe feel warmer for a short while. Then she came back to reality and waited for the rain to stop, or her own death. Zoe didn’t actively want to die, she wouldn’t jump in front of a car, but if one hit her and ended the hunger forever, she wouldn’t object.


Hours later, the rain let up, and the dumpsters unlocked. Zoe left the ruined shreds of her box and hurried to Cyprus Street as quickly as her sleep and sustenance starved body was able. The clouds were still dark, it could rain again at any moment. More importantly, the other homeless children were likely doing the same thing she was. If they got to Cyprus first and ate all the food, Zoe would not have the strength to get to the dumpster on the next block. It was life or death.


When she reached Cyprus, Zoe was ready to drop, to lay down and quit. She saw other kids there, and wished she had never come, that she had climbed a building and jumped to the merciful death below. Those were Badgers, a local gang. They offered protection for a price, and terrorized those who didn’t pay. Justice was merciless in this nation, and they would be hanged the same as anyone else if the were caught during a burglary or such. But nobody turned them in. If you didn’t pay them, they might rob you from time to time. If you were the reason the limp corpse of one of their own was displayed from a streetlight, they would burn your store and home.


They were powerful and feared, but the shop owners tolerated them because the Badgers would never rob or tax so heavily that a store went under, and they kept out other gangs who would be worse.. So they were homeles by choice, and they ate fresh food. They didn’t need the dumpster, they were holding it to charge a toll. On one hand, Zoe knew there would be food in there. On the other hand, she had nothing to pay with. Public nudity was not prohibited or even discouraged, and she would gladly have given them the clothes on her back, but her clothes were rags, torn and worn thin. She owned nothing else, she had nothing else, and she couldn’t even promise them anything. Zoe hadn’t had anything to her name except dumpster scraps and her box since the bacon and eggs, and she would have died a few times over before giving them that meal. To make matters worse, they had seen her.


A few of the bigger kids came her way. Zoe was too weak to run, she couldn’t have outrun them even after sleep and a proper meal, so she didn’t try. She recognized Mike, the one up front. He had been her peer for a couple years, before he had been accepted into the gang. They’d had sex a few times and then spent the night huddled together for warmth, but Zoe had never felt much of anything for him, and he had never displayed anything for her. They were just acquaintances. That was before he was a Badger, NOW he seemed to have thoughts, unkind thoughts.


“Well well well, little Zoe, it’s been a while” Mike said, grinning widely. His tone was friendly, but the look in his eyes scared her. “What two years?” Zoe nodded “Sounds about right. You’re looking healthier than last time” he nodded “Yeah, being a Badger has perks….two years since I had that tight little snatch of yours”. Zoe had a REALLY bad feeling now, darker than the gathering clouds, but it was not hopeless. She had no objection to fucking Mike for food, she’d done more for less.“So I think I’ll go first, then when everyone here has had a turn, you can go ahead and have the dumpster” he continued with a wicked grin. Zoe backpedaled, there had to be a dozen of them, too many, and if they fucked like Mike….”Please….don’t do this to me” and they were on her.


The entire group moved in at once. Zoe felt her rags torn off of her, ripped away to expose her scrawny, bruised and battered, dirty body. Four of them pinned her four limbs to the fround, and she felt Mike spread her thighs and thrust into her. She cried out, he pounded mercilessly, his lips pulled back, giving him a feral look. Then they turned her, he pulled out, only to violate his place. One of the girls came up with a strap-on, which was shoved down her throat. They went at her for over an hour, an hour filled with screaming and begging and pounding and more than one donkey punch. They kept rotating, all three holes occupied at all times. They had gone in dry, before long her blood provided lubrication. They spit on her, hit her, Zoe was pretty sure one shoulder was dislocated, and she knew she was concussed. Zoe didn’t realize it at the time, but they also damaged her womb, she would never bear children. When their stamina started to fade, Mike retrieved a carrot from the dumpster and used that for a bit. Finally, it started to rain again. Zoe was dimly aware of the dumpster locking. They finished with her shortly after, and Mike tossed the carrot on the ground next to her “Alright Zoe, the dumpster is yours when the rain stops, see you next time!” he said it cheerfully, like it had been another one of their unimportant ‘fuck and stay warm’ nights from years ago, not an act of violence that was shocking even by modern standards, one that had left Zoe with clear internal bleeding. Then he wandered off, leaving Zoe bleeding in the rain, Zoe blacked out, praying to not wake up.


Zoe was hardly aware for what felt like forever. She would remember disjointed moments as she slipped in and out of the waking world. She remembered waking long enough to eat the carrot, tasting herself on it. That took all of her strength, and her head hurt so badly, it felt like it was on fire before she slipped under. She remembered a large figure over her, a hand on her neck. She had thought how grateful she would be if that hand strangled her or snapped her neck, but it seemed to check the strength of her pulse. She remembered the voice, which to her would become the voice of God “Would you like to come to my harem? You will belong to me, but it is warm, and we have food.” and she had agreed, hardly aware, feeling like she was floating, watching her suffering. She remembered being scooped up in strong arms, arms that carried her through the rain, to somewhere dry, then she faded again. She remembered waking at some sharp pain in her arm, and a hand on her forehead. She felt…..could that be a blanket? And then Zoe simply slept


It was getting pretty long, ending it here. Part 2 coming soon

I like it! Part 2 would be awesome. Poor Zoe, she deserves a bit of comfort, even though her demise might not be far off…

Thank you Loke! Part 2 is probably coming today, and it definitely foes better for the munchkin <3

Just read the first two while I was having my dinner and really enjoyed them! :D Gonna work a bit more on my own story now - wish me luck! lol

Part 2! More light and fun than the first part, good things happening for Zoe. this was originally going to be 2 parts total, but things happened and 3 is well on the way :)



Zoe woke up, and thought she must have died. The light was gentle, and she was on something soft, it must be a cloud, she had slept in her box for so long, and it was not soft. But heaven was supposed to be painless, and as nice as her cloud felt, she was still in some pain. Her head, between her legs, her ribs. Zoe was so confused, so she forced her eyes open to figure it out. She saw the ceiling and the soft lights, the cream colored walls. She turned her head, it hurt, but not as bad as before. She was in a bed, a real bed, with pillows and a blanket and everything. Zoe saw the IV stand next to the bed, the line wound down, it was in her wrist. Memories were coming back, the rape, the rain, the stranger…this must be the harem.


Zoe heard a friendly, soft voice “Hey sleepy head. We weren’t sure if you were going to wake up at all for a while there” a hand touched her arm, she turned her head. The girl standing by the bed was older, early twenties. She was chubby but not fat, well fed, with round cheeks and happy eyes, wearing not a stitch of clothing, save only a slave collar identifying her as Tiffany. Zoe was suddenly aware that she was also naked under the blanket, except for a pullup. The old Zoe would have been mortified by the last bit. The new Zoe was warm and almost comfortable and seemed to be safe, and the older girl wasn’t teasing her, so she couldn’t seem to mind.


“How long was I out?” her voice was soft, she couldn’t seem to manage above a whisper. This did concern her, she tried to sit up. The older girl pushed her gently back down “Easy, easy. You’re on a lot of medication, it will wear off. You’ve been sleeping for almost two weeks, the swelling in your brain was pretty bad for a while, I think you’re going to have to live with some balance problems. We fixed most of the rest and got it safe to wake you, but you’re definitely still healing. That street gang did a number on you” Zoe felt sadness “The leader, I used to think he was my friend”. Tiffany patted her arm “We saw it all on the city security cameras, that’s not a friend. But you don’t have to worry about that anymore, your life got better as soon as Daddy picked you up off the street”.


That brought Zoe back to her questions, she had a lot of them. “I was out for so much, I only remember bits. Where am I? What’s the deal here?” Tiffany laughed “Oh yeah, I guess nobody explained it while you were in your little coma. So, this is one of those harems they started letting the mega-wealthy run a few years ago. I’m sure you’ve heard, lots of taxes, but they are like micronations, regular laws don’t apply. Most of the time they are for gladiator fights or drug selling. This one is mostly just sex and entertainment. Gimli and Nixon own this place, they are the Daddies of the harem. They want us all to get chubby and just enjoy our time here. Eventually every girl ends up on the table, but we all came out of much worse”. That all sounded good to Zoe. She was warm and comfortable and Tiffany was friendly, and….her stomach grumbled. “I heard something about there being food, even getting chubby?” she asked hopefully. Tiffany laughed again, Zoe loved her laugh, it came easily and seemed genuine “Oh baby, you have no idea”.



Tiffany adjusted the IV line and bag so that it was all wrapped around Zoe’s arm, allowing her to move. Zoe wanted to walk, but Tiffany insisted on a wheelchair “You took a lot of damage in your lower body, and you’ve been down and drugged for two weeks. We’ll get you some physical therapy, but if you stand right now, you’ll just fall. It’s just for a couple days” Zoe was just so excited about what was to come, she agreed pretty readily. Tiffany wouldn’t let her lose the pullup, but did help her get black gym shorts over it “The other girls will know, a few have been there themselves, but it makes newbies feel better. In a year, you’ll be amazed that you cared, because you’ll spend most of that time naked”. Zoe asked about a shirt, Tiffany laughed “No shirts here baby, even the shorts are just because of the pullup. Come on, let’s go meet your new sisters. It’s all good, you’ll see”. Tiffany loaded the little girl into the chair, and they went out the door and into her new life.


Tiffany got her into the elevator and downstairs, Zoe gasped when the door opened. There were dozens of naked girls out there. All shapes and sizes and ages from about ten to late twenties. Some were thin or average, but the majority, especially of the older girls, were plump, padded…and all smiling. Tiffany pushed the wheelchair out of the elevator and they all came to greet Zoe, there were hugs and cuddles, cheek and forehead kisses, much aww’ing about how cute she was, basically more affection in just a few minutes than Zoe had experienced in her entire life. The chubby girls were warm and soft and called her ‘little sister’ and Zoe quickly decided that she loved them very much. The loli couldn’t get enough of her new friends, learning names, chatting, hugging, lots and lots of hugging. Then the dinner bell rang.


Tiffany was back at her side, smiling widely as she rolled Zoe outside. She loved when the hungry ones got adopted, their reactions to that first harem dinner were always so cute. They got outside and Zoe nearly fell out of the chair. The smells washed over her, wonderful, delicious smells. Meat and roasted vegetables, bread and casseroles and sauces and so many other things that Zoe had never tasted and wanted to. There were tables set up, loaded down with a feast, each one with more food than Zoe had eaten in a year, total she was looking at more food than she had eaten in her entire life. The centerpiece of each table was a girl, whole and roasted golden, seasoned and drizzled with sauce. Zoe had never eaten human meat before, she had only heard about it because it was illegal outside of harems. She had doubts about it at first, but as Zoe rolled her closer and the aroma got stronger, those reservations melted away.


Tiffany parked Zoe at the end of one of the tables. Everyone was seated and started loading plates. The girls at her table got one for Zoe and put a little bit of everything on it, topping it off with a thick slice of thigh, medium rare with golden brown skin cracking at the cut. It was dripping with juices and Zoe found herself trembling with excitement. She cut the first bite of meat and as it melted in her mouth, hot and flavorful and absurdly tender, Zoe felt tears in her eyes, although she couldn’t place why. A tall black girl with big tits and plenty of padding to her left gave the munchkin a quick one-armed hug “You’re home now baby”


The meal continued for a long time, several hours into the night. Zoe ate some of everything. She tried every dish, and enjoyed each of them. She did get a couple more slices of girl before the bones were picked clean and had that same confused euphoria with each bite. She ate several plates, the girl meat ran out, but everything else just kept getting replenished….except for the veggies. Zoe had savored them, but had noticed that she was eating more of them than anyone else, she worried about being rude. The other girls found this DEEPLY funny. The black girl who had hugged her, Tasha, explained how things worked. Zoe was welcome to eat whatever she wanted for a couple weeks, to get her off of being malnourished. For the rest of the girls, and Zoe when she got there, the target in this harem was 5’5 and 260lbs, scaled for height. Veggies in the diet were needed for health, but they were not provided in the same quantity because they did not help girls get to ‘table weight’.


Desserts on the other hand….Zoe had tasted meat and veggies and bread before, but rarely sugary foods, and never chocolate. The variety of sweet treats laid out was staggering. Cakes and cupcakes and cookies and a hundred other things Zoe could not identify. She had felt reasonably full at the end of the main meal, but now her body seemed to remember that as far as Zoe could recall, she’d NEVER not been hungry, and she’d taken in nothing solid at all during her 2 week coma. She lit into the junk food with the same energy as the meats previously. So many wonderful flavors and textures, and just so much of it. By the time she stopped, her belly hurt, not the hungry ache she knew so well, but a surrender, she was full, for the first time in her life, she was really and truly, uncomfortably full. Zoe looked down, she had a very visible food baby. She was also exhausted. It was very late, she was not recovered, and feasting like that took a lot out of a loli. She felt warm and gentle arms lift her up, she was settled in a soft lap, with her head between big heavy breasts, and her last thought before drifting off was a realization of what the meat had made her feel, contentment. That was what she wanted in life, to greet other girl coming here in need of a hug, and to give her life to provide another disoriented kid the same religious experience. Zoe slept, dreaming happy dreams. It was the safest, warmest, best sleep of her life.

How heartwarming! It sets things up nicely for part 3. I'm looking forward to it, it's always a joy to read your stories.

thank you so much Loke! <3 I am debating between 3 being the end of it or having a shorter part 4, but it really does make my day to know that someone is enjoying it!

You know, I don't normally haunt this place for the warm and fuzzys but this was fantastic. Fantastic enough to get me to post in this thread even though I've been reading just about every story you've posted to this point.

This is the conclusion of my 'Zoe in the Harem' story. It's the longest section because I didn't want it to turn into another one. I am really happy with how this turned out, this last segment is one of my favorite things I have written, and i do hope you all enjoy <3 <3



Zoe didn’t remember falling asleep, having her IV unhooked, or being carried upstairs, nor anything after dinner, but that seemed to be what had happened. She woke up in a nice soft bed, still wearing the gym shorts and pullup from the previous day.


Zoe glanced on either side and saw that she was snuggled between two of her new sisters, Tina and Shauna, a pair of half black, half Asian actual twin sisters. Both were comfortably ‘table weight’ and didn’t expect to live out the year, a fact that hadn’t seemed to bother either of them. Tina had eagerly described to her new loli buddy how she wanted to be stuffed and oven roasted with vibrators in both holes, cumming the entire time she was going. Shauna was more of a romantic, wanting one last night of gentle lovemaking before going to the guillotine. Zoe had only encountered Gimli and Nixon briefly the night before and was told they didn’t spend much time here, but the two sisters seemed confident they would get their wishes, the harem daddies were nice like that.



The girls had been awake but not motivated to get up. When they noticed Zoe waking, she was immediate squeezed tight between her squishy new sisters, and showered with affectionate kisses and flirty whispers. The skinny loli relished in all of this. She had been ignored and neglected or abused for almost every day of her short life to this point, the closest she could remember to affection in all of her years on the streets was the man who had sodomized her and then given her bacon and eggs. He had tousled her hair as he left. Before arriving here, Zoe thought that might have been the closest to being loved that she ever got, and now affection was her drug. Her drug would kill her, it would land her on the table, and Zoe didn’t mind. She was going to pack as much living as possible into every day between her rebirth in that medical ward and her death in the kitchen.



It took some coaxing to get Zoe out of bed, but one mention of hot biscuits and gravy turned out to be pretty good motivation. The older girls led her into the bathroom and stripped their loli, telling her that even though she was allowed the gym shorts a bit longer, it was more in the spirit of the harem for her to be nude, something Zoe didn’t really object to. The pullup was discarded, she didn’t need it now that she wasn’t drugged. She was still unsteady on her feet, the rape really had done damage, but when the twins got her in the shower they put her on a seat built into it. Tina cranked up the water and the three girls spent almost an hour rubbing and kissing and scrubbing each other. Each ate both of the other two to orgasm, a delightful experience. The older girls tasted different from the girls Zoe had gotten intimate with on the street, a savory taste, meaty and flavorful, which she was informed came from supplements in the food to improve flavor after cooking. At this, she had looked up from her position beneath Shauna and grinned ‘Well it’s not just good cooked!’, which got some laughs, then went back to making Shauna moan. Tina went to work on the loli, and by the time they got out and wrapped her in large, obscenely fluffy towels that felt like being wrapped in a cloud, Zoe wasn’t the only one with unsteady legs.


They went downstairs, Zoe could smell good things. She had been painfully full the night before, but her body was trying to make up for lost time and she was famished again. The other girls greeted the three of them warmly, they still seemed legitimately happy to see Zoe. There were lots of hugs and kisses and head pats all over again, Zoe was hugged tight against lots of massive tits, which was downright intoxicating. Zoe had never thought about her sexuality much on the streets, very few encounters were really for pleasure, and even most of those were ‘do these things in this order to get an orgasm’ regardless of the gender or bits the other person had, but she quickly decided that she was very, very gay and she loved it.


Eventually they steered her to the kitchen, where once again, Zoe was confronted with more food than she had eaten in her entire life. There was fresh fruit in bowls, and Zoe very much wanted to have some of that, but the rest of the spread was more clearly geared to weight gain. Bacon, hot and greasy and crispy, next to sausage and sausage gravy. Rolls and croissants with butter and hazelnut spread, Eggs cooked in pans greased with girl fat, whole milk and sugary juices and pancakes and French toast and so many other wonderful things. The kind man who sodomized her had bought Zoe low-end diner eggs and bacon, the overcooked pork type. The girl bacon looked and smelled SO good! The older girls helped Zoe load up her plate. She sat and made a little sandwich of bacon and eggs on a fluffy buttered biscuit. Zoe bit into her creation and was pretty sure there was a tiny orgasm mixed into that rush of endorphins. She ate every bite on her plate, then Tiffany came back around, Zoe was so happy to see her friend again, she’d been surprised to wake up with someone other than her guardian angel from her days asleep.


Tiffany hugged her enthusiastically, she had come to really care for the baby, and insisted on refilling her plate, smiling widely “You’ll never hit table weight on one plate a meal” she teased, tickling Zoe on her clearly visible ribs, Zoe giggled happily. She cleared her second plate and did get another although the third was a bit lighter, with the fruit she had been drawn to. As she was leaning back and already starting to feel the belly ache, Tiffany leaned over “Oh, and Daddies arranged a little surprise for you after breakfast!” The meal lasted almost another hour, Zoe talked and played with a number of the girls, but she was so full, she spent a good bit of that time cuddled up against Tiffany, feeling sluggish. Tiffany told her that new girls usually weren’t able to keep up with the eating here and needed frequent naps. She would adjust before too long.


After breakfast, all the girls went to the backyard to see what the surprise for Zoe might be. Zoe stopped in her tracks when she saw the Badgers. Mike and Emma and all of the other members who had raped her, who had killed the old Zoe. Tiffany was holding her hand for support on account of Zoe still being unsteady, and she would have fallen right then if not for the older girl. Her blood froze, she remembered every detail of the attack, of the gang members forcing themselves on her. She remembered the tearing and cracking as they broke her little body, her spine still hurt from their kicks, she could still taste the blood in her mouth. She paled, but these Badgers were not a danger today. Each one stood on a stool, each one had their hands tied, and each one had a rope around their neck.


Tiffany read a note that Gimli had given her. They could not be around, something came up at a harem in another town, but the police had given Gimli and Nixon the traffic camera recording of that night. They had nabbed everyone involved that night, and Zoe was free to hang them. She could also let them go if she wanted, but there was no obligation. Zoe looked at Tiffany with doubt in her eyes. The older girl whispered “It’s not a trap, it’s not a test. They actually did this for another girl last year. Her attackers put her in a wheelchair, she didn’t last long, but our Daddies have a real sense of justice. And don’t worry about the rest of them, the gang tried to retaliate last year as well, security killed them all. It’s all just entirely up to you.”


Zoe nodded and hugged her new sister, then whispered a request in her ear. Tiffany smirked “I’d love to”. The two of them went up to the group, all of whom were gagged. Emma was first, an athletic type with abs and a big rack. She looked at Zoe with fear. Most of the street kids shed their fear of death, it came too randomly and too easily out there. The Badgers were different, they became immune from some of the worst danger when they died, and too many forgot how little they were worth. Zoe saw many scared faces in this bunch. She nodded at Tiffany and the older girl pulled the stool for her, helping Zoe sit down on it as Emma started her dance of death


Emma was tall and strong and very fit. She had been an enforcer for the Badgers, and before and since joining, she had beaten Zoe more than once before the day the old Zoe had died. Reborn Zoe couldn’t be bothered to pity her. She watched the bully kick and hop, her large breasts bouncing, her firm abs fluttering, strong legs flailing. Zoe sat on the stool and watched Emma die, watched her face turn purple, watched bloody drool slide down her protruding and swollen tongue, watched a drop of blood trickle from her nose, and finally watched Emma’s movements slow until one of her worst tormentors hung limp in the rope, no longer able to hurt Zoe or anyone else, and hopefully burning in Hell. Zoe felt a weight slide off of her as Emma’s bladder relaxed.


Zoe and Tiffany went up and down the line, hanging one Badger after another. Some cried, some begged, some cursed and threatened her, all died in miserable agony. Mike was left for last, shaking as Zoe as Tiffany approached him. He was only a couple years older than the loli, in another era, he would have been ‘too young to die’. Zoe brought a stool and sat right in front of him “Hi Mike” she said calmly, her voice not giving away the emotion burning under the surface. He opened his mouth, Zoe cut him off “ Don’t speak, just listen.”


“You were one of the closest people I had to a friend out there. We were never close, but before you were a Badger, my days with you usually involved reasonable sex and a night where neither of us were as cold when we tried to sleep. A lot of times we could even make a meal between us. There were no good days out there, but those days were better. I smiled when I saw you……and then you joined a gang, and the next time you saw me, you and your friends raped and beat me within an inch of my life. I would have died on that street if I hadn’t been brought here”. Zoe stood, leaning on Tiffany to steady her “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?” Mike was as white as a sheet, and he stammered “ I….I’m so sorry Zoe, I shouldn’t have done that, none of us should have, it was wrong” he looked up and down the line at the purple faced lumps of meat that had been his friends “P…please don’t do this to me”. Zoe’s face twisted in an odd mix of rage and humor, she let go of Tiffany and took a few painful steps until she could lean against Mike, whispering for his ears only “Fate is funny sometimes. You probably don’t remember, but those exact words are the last thing I said before you and your friends put me in a coma”. His eyes went wide, just before Zoe pulled that last stool herself and sat, spending the next 15 minutes watching him die. Her legs hurt so badly after those few steps that Tiffany had to carry her back inside, but Zoe was happy.

No more nightmares.




Epilogue
15 years later


Zoe was surrounded by her family, she had spent more than half of her 27 years here, and it was not ‘the harem’ and her ‘harem family’ anymore, she hadn’t thought that way in many years. This was home, and this was her family, these were her sisters. She still had a picture of herself and Tiffany on her wall, Tiffany had been slaughtered and cooked just a few weeks after she helped Zoe hang her bullies. Zoe still kept a lock of her hair, and the memories from those few weeks were some of her most treasured. Zoe had held her hand as Tiffany had died, without fear, without regret. Tina and Shauna had been right in their predictions, they had been slaughtered together for Christmas the year Zoe arrived, in the ways they had hoped for. Zoe had seen so many sisters come and go over the years, dined on so many dear friends, and it never felt like a loss. She missed them sometimes, but they were still part of her home, part of her family. They had fed the family, and soon Zoe would join them, would do the same. When she had come here, Zoe hadn’t feared death, but she hadn’t actively welcomed it, she just hadn’t really cared. Now, after seeing how beautiful a thing it was, she looked forward to feeding the family.


Zoe had grown into a woman. The scrawny, underfed loli was gone. Zoe was definitely table weight now, she was all curves. She could look in the mirror and see in her own flesh the steaks that had nourished her so well. She could see the bacon, her rump would feed many hungry girls. And she had gained the huge and heavy breasts that on Tiffany had been her first real exposure to this wonderful happy world. Her own were actually larger, soft and warm and welcoming. They had taken in many cold lolis from the streets over the years, and Zoe took a special joy in holding them, in keeping them warm and letting them know they were safe. There was a loli in her arms right now in fact.


Zoe smiled fondly at the girl. Sarah was 14 and had just come a few weeks ago. She was still skinny enough for Zoe to feel her heart break, for the older girls to be extremely protective and take great pleasure in spoiling her whenever they could. She held Zoe’s hand, leaned into her warm embrace and asked “Do you have to?” with big puppy dog eyes. Zoe remembered feeling that way for Tiffany, she couldn’t understand how the older girl was so at peace, she understood now. Zoe kissed Sarah on the forehead “ You’ll see one day honey, this is not a bad thing. This is what allows the next girl, the next Zoe to have the same wonderful life I’ve had. I told you about the bad days before I came here, but I wouldn’t change them. If I hadn’t been attacked that day, I might not be here, and I want to play my part in making this as happy a place for you as it has been for me. I want this”.


Zoe stood up, Sarah still holding her hand, and they walked to the kitchen, stopping for Zoe to hug and kiss every single sister on the way there. By the time they had hugged the last and gotten to the kitchen, Zoe could hardly stand. She had never recovered properly from that night in the alley and couldn’t stand without pain for more than a couple minutes, but she didn’t mind. Daddy Gimli was there, he embraced her lovingly and helped get her up on the counter. Zoe laid back, felt Sarah squeeze her hand. Zoe felt the cold knife on her neck and took one last breath. As she felt the cold bite of her throat being opened, and then almost immediately felt numbness and her world went dark, Zoe was happy, and at the end, what she had told Sarah was true, she wouldn’t change a thing.


Zoe was delicious

Wow! Just read all three parts of your Zoe story and thought it was amazing! The first part made me very sad but I loved the cosy new home she got and almost cheered when she got her revenge on the bullies! They system in the harem sounds so sweet too, with girls happily giving up their meat to feed the next generation of waifs and strays! A really lovely story :D

This story turned out surprisingly wholesome in the end! A surprise for sure, but a welcome one. Well done.

thank you guys so much!! <3


Edward, yeah, I had at least those elements in mind from the start. most people (myself included) usually write the girl in the hours or days leading up to death, with her mind and attitude about it fully formed, I wanted to show how she got there. Add that with me being a softie who loves nothing more than a nice snuggle….that and getting bullies back. I'm so glad you liked it! <3


Thank you Loke! I've done so many where the girl dies sad or lonely or whatever. you saw my last one? a brutal murder of a sweet loli with a bright future, in her own home. that was about as dark as I get, I needed something a lot more wholesome as a palate cleanser, so I gave Zoe a version of my fantasy for myself <3


thanks for the comments guys, it really does mean a lot! <3

Mmmm I want to write some execution stories now ;)

Oh my… I think the Christy story has been my favourite so far!

I had a couple that were meant to be short and silly. feeling down, so I'm gonna finish some of them, see if that helps




“And CUT!” called the director. Cameras immediately stopped rolling, lights were adjusted, and Chloe Moretz exhaled in relief, getting down from the uncomfortable ‘evil lair’ bondage frame. She walked off set, patting the tripod mounted machine gun as she passed it “Bring in the double!” called the director.


The blonde who had been standing in the corner struggling to control her excitement ran over. Like Chloe, she was naked except for the Hit-Girl wig and mask, showing off her exceptionally similar figure. Her eyes were the wrong color, and there was a couple inch height difference, but it didn’t matter. They were filming the penultimate fight of Kick-Ass 3, the long awaited and final installment in the series and this girl who had been a huge fan since the first one had won the drawing to be the double for Chloe in this incredibly important scene.


The double (Chloe had not bothered to learn her name) ran up to her idol “I Love you Chloe, I’m a huge fan!” Two stagehands helped get the girl locked into the frame Chloe had just occupied, she was beaming and called out “Good luck in your next roll!” Chloe gave her a thumbs up and an encouraging smile, while mentally rolling her eyes, groupies. The director yelled “Places! And…action!”


As the machine gun opened fire, the noise was louder than stunt double Mindy (not her birth name, she had legally changed it after the first movie) would have believed. The bullets slammed into her flesh. She didn’t have instructions, anything she was supposed to try to do, they wanted a real reaction. So she grunted at the first impacts, then screamed in pain as the first burst stopped. The second burst tore open her pale belly and turned her vision red with pain. She was losing a lot of blood. The third burst was longer, shredding her tits and blowing her head to bits. The mutilated corpse slumped in the restraints.


As the gun stopped firing, Aaron Taylor-Johnson ran into the room, screaming and swearing. He fell to his knees, weeping for Hit-Girl, wishing he had beaten the villain sooner, had saved her. It was a heartrending performance, the best of his career. As the director called a wrap and announced that they had gotten in, he went and high-fived Chloe, then they went and got pizza, laughing about the noises the girl had made, and how eager she had been for some reason to go through that when she would only be credited with the rest of the stunt doubles, they didn’t understand super-fans. Oh well, the stunt double had been happy, and they were both going to make a ton of money, everybody won.

NICE! Been a Chloe fan since "My Name is Earl" where even Earl tells her 8 or 9yo character she needs to show a lot more skin! Wish there'd been a scene like this in the first Kick-Ass ;)

It kinda reminds me of a story I read a while back about Mary Jane Watson being a snuff-double for Kirsten Dunst and Peter going along to watch her big moment - was that one of yours too?

Alice in Wonderland:Alice Shrinks


Alice stood with her head brushing the ceiling, 50 feet tall, berating the queen who had just been calling for her death. “As for you, your Majesty. Majesty indeed”


Alice was more like 40 feet now, but she hadn’t noticed the change, “why you’re not a queen.” 30 feet, and shrinking with each word


“You’re just a fat” 25ft


“Pompous” 20


bad tempered 15


old ty…..” 10, and Alice had noticed, she trailed off


….tyrant” Alice had now shrunk back to her original 4’10 and the 12 year old had now started to grasp that she had a very real problem


Evil chuckle ‘and uh…what were you saying dear?’


Alice turns to run, but she was just a kid, and not an athletic one. The playing cards didn’t waste time with some big showy display of jumping around that would give her time to escape, they grabbed the little golden haired girl and dragged her back before the Queen. The Queen grinned wickedly. “I will say this one more time, you have had a trial, you have insulted me again. No loophole, no stalling….OFF WITH HER HEAD!!!”


Alice screamed as two playing cards dragged her back a few feet, then held a flamingo like scissors and used the beak to snip away at her dress until she was exposed to the waist. Alice was adorable, there was no other word. Her chest was not entirely flat, her breasts had started to come in, but they were no more than very gentle swells, A-cup would be generous,with areolas so light they almost blended in with her unblemished alabaster skin. Her body was thin and pale, with a bit of baby fat lingering around her belly. With her big blue eyes, she would have softened the heart of anyone who had one….but the Queen did not.


Alice was pleading and sobbing “I’m sorry your Majesty, it was the mushroom, I didn’t mean it! You are the Queen, you are my queen. Please your Majesty” she hardly seemed to note as two playing cards carried a wooden chopping block and dropped it between her and the Queen, although her pleas grew more frantic, tears filled her huge blue eyes and dripped off of her chin “Please your Majesty, I’ll do anything!” A huge card approached, far bigger than the rest, with a black hood and a huge axe, gleaming with a dark and cruel gleam on the edge, and specked with what had once been blood closer to the haft


The Queen was unmoved by the precious little angel pleading for her life, she raised her hand very dramatically and gave a thumbs down. One of the cards came up behind Alice, pushing her to the block….and tweaking her tiny nipples while doing so, earning much laughter, especially from the Queen. There was a drumroll, and then Alice felt a blinding, crushing pain in her neck, a dreadful impact. She realized that the executioner must have failed with the first stroke, oh the horror!! Alice tried to cry out, but her spine was broken, she was completely paralyzed. Two more monstrous impact and she felt her head fall away.


Alice was now 4’2


She stayed awake far longer than she would have in the mundane world, finally being allowed to die, to escape the face of the Queen, twisted in malicious glee, to escape the cruel laughter. The Queen had her roasted, found her flesh to be the most delicious she had tasted, and so started the tradition of kidnapping children from the waking world and carrying them away for royal feasts.

Ooh that was fun! Have you thought about doing something with the White Witch from Narnia? I'm sure she and her demonic minions would have had some fun with children who accidentally stumbled through the various portals ;)

I have now officially read everything you have posted - The Kobayashi one made me think a little of "Let the Right One In" :)

Oh and forgot to say - it's all awesome :D

Here's a link to my "sequel" to your fireworks story! Thanks for the permission x

https://www.gurochan.cx/lit/res/17215.html

Part 2 is well underway. I'm probably taking a hiatus after this story, but I hope you enjoy <3


Set 7 years after Just a Job. Crop failures and disease have forced humanity closer than ever to the brink of extinction. In a bid to fend off the specter of dying out as a race, harsh measures have been taken. Most important among these, mandatory breeding ages have been dropped by a year, all residents of the new order must have become pregnant or impregnated another by their 14th birthday to be allowed to remain. All children were raised by adopted parents who had passed mandatory breeding ages and finished school, very rarely their biological parents. Experiments shortly after the Final War meant that the population reached sexual maturity around 11 years old in most cases, so the majority were able to meet this requirement…. but not all.



Just a Job 2; Chapter 1- Happy Birthday



Dinner at the Anderson home was a very quiet affair that night. Mr and Mrs Anderson and their two children sat, three of them eating quietly, and the son Ryan poking disinterestedly at his food. He had eaten very little, and although his parents loved and cared for him very much, they didn’t pressure him to eat. A cupcake was in front of him with a number in icing, 14.



His family sat around him, sporadically squeezing his hand or shoulder, giving his leg a reassuring rub. They played a quiet game, they shared fond memories, happy stories. They watched an episode of Firefly, his favorite show. Ryan tried to put on a brave face, but as the clock struck midnight, he paled and started to tremble. It was now his birthday, and his fate was sealed. His family came in around him for a group hug, but there was nothing they could do to help him. His 11yo sister Andi was already pregnant, and she had suggested claiming that it was his baby, but that wouldn’t do, they tested, and if she was caught lying, she would be allowed to give birth, and she would die as well.



Another round of hugs and Ryan went into the bedroom he shared with his sister, feeling hollow. He lay in bed, facing the wall and trembling, silent tears running down his cheeks. Ryan was a pretty boy. He was not cute or handsome or adorable (okay, maybe adorable), he was PRETTY. Fully dressed, he’d been mistaken for a little girl many times, once by a girl he’d later fucked, trying to save them both. He was skinny, with very soft, delicate features. He had big eyes and hair dyed bright pink, with a dye that smelled distinctly like cherries, and looked even younger than he actually was. He liked painting his nails, he liked a bit of makeup, he liked coloring his hair, and to the surprise of nobody who thought about him for more than a moment, he liked boys.



He’d never been in a relationship for more than a few weeks, but a number of guys, and even a few girls with strap-ons had had their fun with him. He didn’t mind. He’d never been raped or abused, and most had given him little tokens of appreciation. Snacks, small items needed around the house, or just a kiss on the forehead. Ryan was so young, and a late bloomer, sex had never meant much to him. It felt kinda nice, although none of his partners had been skilled, the forehead kisses meant a lot more, they were a weakness. He’d had sex with plenty of girls in an attempt to avoid the position he now found himself in, but he really had wanted just once to have a kindly grown man, with strong, safe arms. Unfortunately the only person he really had left to see at this point was Alana, the executrix. She was very kind the couple times they had met, but she certainly wasn’t the Thor type man Ryan deeply regretted had never really noticed him.



Ryan lay there and shivered and cried and tried to control his fear. He knew it had to happen, he wasn’t mad at anyone, and his feelings were more regret than fear, but he was still terrified, he was too young for this. It would hurt, and then he would just be over, and there was so much he still wanted to do. As he sniffled in his quiet misery, he almost missed the sound of his sister entering the room. He tried to stop crying, to feign sleep so that she might just go to bed, but even at 11, Andi wasn’t a fool, she knew the odds of her beloved older brother sleeping tonight.



She came up behind him and sat on the edge of his bed, touching his shoulder. Ryan sighed and rolled over, he hadn’t wanted her to see him with red eyes and tears on his cheeks, but there was no avoiding it. Andi sat there in the soft light of a lamp, her eyes full of sad love. She was so cute to Ryan, she was his precious little sister. Even with her baby bump already visible under her shirt, and her breasts coming in early and staining the fabric with leaking milk, she was a pure and innocent being in his eyes, with soft curls and blue eyes and rosy little cheeks. She had hit puberty and probably had sex with more boys and more people overall than Ryan had, but she was a child, in her eyes, in her face, in her thoughts, and in her sweet soul.



She hugged him gently “Talk to me” she said quietly. Ryan had hardly spoken all night, a few words here and there. He had so many bubbling under the surface, but he didn’t know how to express all of it. So many thoughts, so many emotions. Then his mind supplied an image of the noose that would squeeze his tender throat in the morning, would turn his face a more interesting color than his hair, and would turn him from the cute little twink who just wanted to know romantic love, into another lifeless piece of meat and he had one thought, one emotion above the rest “ I’m scared” he confessed in a fragile whisper. Andi held his hand “ It’s gonna be okay. Alana is nice, she will be gentle. Mommy said that there used to be stories about Heaven, a good place after we die. You’ll be there, you’ll see”. Then she stood on the bed and kissed his forehead. She didn’t quite get why Ryan liked it so much, but he did, and that was good enough for her. Ryan felt some of the tension leave him, he didn’t know what he believed, but Andi sounded so sure about Heaven, maybe she was right, there was a chance. He hugged her, and they fell asleep. No sex, fully clothed, just a doomed boy and the sister who made it easier.







`Part 2- The big day


Mr. and Mrs. Anderson woke up early the next morning and peeked in to check on the children. Andi was not in her bed, she was with Ryan, embraced like a teddy bear, both of them fast asleep. Their parents just stood around and watched the cuteness. The kids were both so innocent, Ryan had never had a real relationship, but he’d had many friends, many parties, he was so enthusiastic, always ready to explore or swim or watch a movie. He made friends wherever he went. This whole situation broke his parents hearts. It was fair, there was no corruption in the new society, everything was perfectly mathematically fair, but that didn’t make it right that in a few hours, all of that enthusiasm, that eagerness to try new things, that warm spark that made people like their son so much would all be gone. They didn’t wake the kids, Ryan didn’t have to report to Alana for a few more hours, he would be stressed and upset this morning, and there was no reason he couldn’t sleep and avoid that until it was time to go.



Ryan and Andi slept late, waking fresh and rested. Andi was first, snuggling closer to her brother, with Ryan not long after. Ryan rubbed his sister’s belly, feeling the baby bump, and the love in his heart overwhelmed even his fear. Andi rolled over and smiled at him, placing his hand back on “Mommy says he will start kicking in a couple months” Ryan smiled sadly “I wish I was going to meet him” Andi couldn’t help a little giggle “Silly goose, even I won’t really meet him, at least that I know. He’ll go to his new family, and we will both get to meet him in Heaven!” Ryan thought for a moment that this was a very sad thought, but Andi was giggling and seemed to find it really funny for whatever reason. Her enthusiasm was infectious and Ryan found himself giggling right there with her. Soon they were laughing and tickling each other and just having a good time and neither of them knew or cared why. Their parents on the other side of the door were happy to hear it. They didn’t know if the kids were playing doctor or telling dirty jokes or even having sex, anything that helped put off sadness for Ryan as long as possible was good in their book.



Eventually, after a tickle fight and laughing until they cried, Ryan and Andi ventured out of their room. Disheveled and happy. Their parents didn’t ask, just hugged them both and set out breakfast. Ryan got through three pancakes with strawberries before he happened to see the clock and his appetite was gone, with the fear returning, less than an hour until he had to report to Alana. His parents noticed the change and were immediately at his side. “Let’s go to the market” his mom suggested. Ryan always liked it there, all the vendors with colorful wares were fun to see. More trade and less essential work had popped up since the food situation had been largely solved through technology. Food still wasn’t wasted and the population crisis had actually gotten worse, but as long as everyone allowed to live was able to procreate, humanity would endure and the next generation would have it better.



The family grabbed their stuff and headed to the market, Andi and Ryan still in their pajamas. They wandered the stalls, greeted friends. Ryan tried to distract himself, looking at all the pretty stuff here. He stopped at a clothing stall when something caught his eye. It was just a pair of socks, nothing fancy, but he loved them immediately. They were silly fluffy, and the same pink as his hair. Ryan touched them, wishing he had seen them a week ago, he could have cherished them for a week, now it was too late. His mother walked up with a smile “See anything you like?” she asked, looking at the socks in his hands. Ryan set them down, shaking his head “There’s no point” Mrs. Anderson tousled his hair “Nonsense, they’re socks, it’s not a big thing. Even right now you’ll get more use out of them than Andi got out of the candy she just wanted.” and five minutes later, Ryan was wearing the socks. They were so cute, and so comfortable, he felt bad that Mom had spent money on clothes he would wear for less than an hour, but they DID make him happy, even if they were now walking to Alana and he had lost his smile at the edge of the market.



Ryan was feeling weak as the office Alana used came into view. She met them at the door, cupped his cheek “Hey cutie” she looked down and smiled “Nice socks”. She stepped back to let Ryan say his final goodbyes. He hugged each of his family members, leaving Andi for last. The siblings hugged, not needing words, then Andi stood on her toes and pulled her brother down a bit to give him a little kiss on the forehead. One last squeeze and Ryan was on his way, Alana leading him on one last walk.



I hope people enjoyed this, it’s been one of my favorite bits to write in a long time <3

Aww this really is super cute! Shotas aren't my thing but I'm loving this story x

Your stories are so romantic that when reading them I can't decide if I have to play with my dick or cry from emotional overload LOL
It is just too cute.


Executions like hangings are not the main preference for me on their own, but I will try to replicate that mood on at least one of my stories as well.


I actually came here by Edwards reference to your fireworks story, which lacks any sign of romantic mood but happens to be very graphic and intense;)

I hope I will be able to combine those aspects into one ;)

aww, hank you guys!

Onix, I want to try for a number of different moods, but soft romantic is where my heart is <3

Part 2! Part 3 will be the last one, and also come quicker. I meant to attach it to part one, but this is basically the closest to how I picture Ryan <3




Alana led Ryan through the door, into the back room of the offices. She was gentle and friendly, but firm, Ryan definitely got the impression that if he tried to run, she would do something about it. She had him by a foot, and was very athletic next to his delicate little build, it wouldn’t be an issue for her. Alana knew he was thinking about it and hoped the kid wouldn’t run. She would have to make this worse for him…..and it would ruin her little treat.


Ryan blinked as Alana led him into a much darker room. There were candles and a mattress and a few odd tables and things Ryan wasn’t quite sure about, including what looked like a crate with instructions to assemble a guillotine on the side. He did see the noose dangling near the back of the room and felt a chill, but the rest of the room was so different from what he had expected that he was distracted. He had expected bright lights and white walls and a room bare except for the rope. He came to a stop, was that….soft jazz music? Alana winked and walked away, back to the door “You two have fun” she called over her shoulder, leaving Ryan very confused. He opened his mouth to ask, and heard someone behind him. He turned and saw Frank stepping out from behind the guillotine crate “Hey little buddy”.


Ryan was very confused, but Frank was in a tight shirt and the view was certainly nice. Frank was 6’2, and when he wasn’t helping Alana, mostly working on construction. He had abs that could have been carved of wood or stone. His arms were big and strong, he looked like he could break Ryan in half. He actually had a strong resemblance to pre-apocalypse actor Jason Momoa, but kept his dark hair cut fairly short. Now that he was smiling, Ryan couldn’t help noting that despite his reputation from working with Alana and doing his bit for general law enforcement, he had an easy smile and cheerful eyes. He was, Ryan suddenly thought, very attractive.



Frank walked over, patted his shoulder “Alana said you liked guys, she asked me to take care of you today, we figured you wouldn’t be too upset at getting me instead of her” he touched the tips of Ryan’s pink hair “Damn you’re cute” Ryan found his tongue, managed words “Oh, I definitely don’t mind” and then his cheeks flushed, that sounded so stupid! He stammered “I mean, thanks…I …I…..you like boys?” Ryan looked down, mortified at his babbling. Frank burst out laughing “Boys, girls, I like tweens. Alana and I split it up sometimes if we know a irl is straight or a boy is gay. Unless they tell us or make it obvious, she just handles them, and buddy, you did NOT need to tell us! Anyway, I am ahead on my work, and nobody else is getting sent my way, so we have time for some fun”.



Frank guided Ryan to a table with a hole cut in one end then leaned down to kiss the shotas neck, moving to unbutton his flannel pajama shirt “Let’s okay loosen you up a little first” Ryan nodded, arching his back at the touch of the man who would soon be his executioner, it was like warm electric tingles shot from his fingers, and the kiss on his neck made his knees unsteady. Frank pulled the pajama shirt away and touched Ryan’s nipples, earning a happy squeak. Frank pushed the boy onto the table, face in the hole. Ryan jumped as something was drizzled on his back, but it was just warm massage oil. Frank had strong hands, and as he rubbed the oil in, Ryan felt small, small and soft underneath those strong hands and brawny arms that could snap his neck as easily as knead tense muscles, and being a romantic sub who just wanted to be taken advantage of by someone who knew what he was doing, Ryan felt like he was already in Heaven.


Frank smiled as he rubbed the munchkin, feeling the boy unwind. When his back was gleaming, Frank moved on. Ryan still had boxers, Frank slipped them off, exposing the cute shota butt in front of him. Ryan tensed for just a moment, then relaxed as he figured Frank wasn’t going to do anything back there that he minded. Frank rubbed the soft young meat, gave one butt cheek a squeeze, then leaned to whisper in Ryan’s ear “Tell me if it gets to be too much, I want your rump to match your hair” and the first swat connected. Ryan yelped in surprise, but after a few more spanks decided that he liked it. Frank’s big hand came down again and again, and Ryan’s butt wiggled with each hit, one cheek, then the other. Ryan felt butterflies in his belly, his cheeks on his face flushed, his breathing quickened and by the time Frank was satisfied that his ass was bright pink and settled for rubbing it, Ryan was squirming, fighting his need for more than this teasing!


Frank didn’t make him wait long, Ryan was as loosened up as he was going to be for the short remainder of his life. Frank went for something and then Ryan felt more of that warm oil on his butt, then tried to twist around as he felt Frank work one oiled finger in there. Frank held him down with his free hand “Easy buddy, you’ll like this” then he slid Ryan back. The little boy gripped the edges of the table as he felt Frank enter him. There was stretching, and then a wonderful sense of fullness. Frank was quite a lot bigger than any previous fuck-buddy Ryan had been with, and it quickly became clear that he was much more skilled.


He thrust a few times while simultaneously lifting Ryan and moving to the bed. Ryan was choked and spanked and tied up and teased with ice and hot wax. His nipples were rubbed and pinched, he was kissed all over, and his butthole got stretched and filled and pounded in ways he had never imagined. Ryan was exhausted before long,having climaxed twice, but Frank had greater stamina and just wanted to give. Time moved strangely, it felt like their passion went on for hours, but as Frank finally used up his stamina and pulled out, to just lie there and hug his pet, it felt like it had lasted no time at all. Ryan snuggled into those strong arms, trying to stall, to freeze time right there. Frank was in no hurry to let go, he would miss this cute fruit-scented kid, but Frank couldn’t keep him. They both knew what was next. The fun was over, and after what amounted to a one-night stand, Ryan had a date, a date with a rope and gravity.

Aww Ryan is too adorable! I bet he sees dying as almost worth it under the circumstances? ;)

Hey Ellen, did you get locked out of your email again? :)

It's so shrt it's almost not worth poting, and I am not sure if anyone actually cares, but I wanted to finish this story, I hope someone enjoys. I'm gonna see if a few short one-shots help me get excited to write again, suggestions for one of those ar more than welcome :)



Just a Job 2- Finale


Frank and Ryan cuddled for a little while, neither in any hurry to get to the unpleasantness ahead. Frank was just taking his time and enjoying the moment, Ryan was hoping against hope that there might be a reprieve, that Frank might keep him as a pet or helper. Ryan didn’t know it, but Frank had hanged two of his OWN offspring over the years, it wasn’t going to happen.


The mail tube in the corner shuddered and thunked, delivering a letter canister and startling Ryan. Frank sighed and rolled over to go retrieve it, reading it as he came back and sat with Ryan. Another deep sigh “Hey little buddy, they need me to help on a project in just a bit. I hate to do it, but we need to get this show on the road”.


Ryan felt a brief spike of fear that dried his mouth and constricted his breathing. Frank stroked his pink hair and the feeling was replaced by resignation and sadness. Hot tears filled his eyes and ran down his cheeks, but he didn’t protest as Frank led him to the noose.


Frank tousled Ryan’s pink hair affectionately, then cupped his cheek and told the trembling kid “Okay Ryan, just look into my eyes okay. I’m right here, I’m not leaving you” Ryan nodded glumly as Frank pulled the knot down and got it snug. He helped Ryan step up on a chair, then retracted the noose so the boy was on his toes. Frank stood behind his trembling playmate and in one motion, pulled the chair out from under him.

Ryan felt the noose pull tight, but he was so light, it didn’t start as the crushing agony he had feared. It was more than enough to leave bruises, but Frank had choked him hard enough to do that during their lovemaking, and it reminded Ryan of that feeling, a peaceful thought


Frank held Ryan’s hand, using grip strength, facial expressions, and body language to tell how the cutie pie was holding up. Ryan tightened his grip after about 30 seconds, and his face showed the start of real pain. Frank took that as his cue, he hugged Ryan, wrapping his arms against those skinny shoulders “Almost done buddy” he whispered. Then Frank jumped up, putting his full weight on Ryan. There was an ugly cracking sound and the boy stopped struggling. Frank lowered his legs again, standing on solid ground. He smelled that fruity scented hair one more time and left to get to the other job, pausing only to recover the fluffy pink socks.


After Frank had finished his other work, and after Ryan had been butchered, Frank paid a visit to the Anderson home, returning the socks. Andi found herself only able to conceive a single time, so she went to the rope on her 16th birthday, and when she reported for her hanging, she wore the socks. And as her fear and pain faded, Andi saw her beloved brother again.

>>18104
Great to see you back.
Some more semi-con stories like this would be nice, I enjoy them and I'm usually the kind that only goes for noncon stuff.

Aww that was so sweet - I especially loved Frank holding Ryan's hand while he hanged and his sister wearing the socks in tribute! x

(9th is the youngest grade that kills people, but the majority of dying is done by munchkins. if anyone wants to steal this world, be my guest! <3 )

Just a one-shot, I don't have any active plans to follow Alyssa



Executrix Academy



Headmistress Higgins Executrix Preparatory School for Girls, Noon Seminar for 9th Grade.



The bell rang and the class filed in from the hallway. Mistress Dorna watched her students carefully. Today was a very special class and the Headmistress of the school was sitting in the back of the room to observe, but the girls were not to look at her. Any failure of discipline would result in the offender being ‘volunteered’ for a future demonstration. There were ten 9th grade classes, with girls about 14 years old, roughly 500 in this school in 9th grade alone. It was the only executrix school in the country. Executrix was a good job, and life was cheap, so even though of the nearly 16,000 students enrolled at any given time, only 30 would live to graduate each year, the school never had a shortage of applicants.


As the students took their seats, Mistress Dorna stood in the front to address her pupils. “Good morning class, and welcome to the first day of 9th Grade. In previous years, you have learned to handle axes and swords, to tie a noose, set up an electric chair, and last year you showed that you were each capable of properly hanging or beheading a cadaver. As I am sure you know, in 9th grade, you will start to use live targets, from former students in the younger classes who have not met school standards. Executions should very rarely be simply about death, they are a show. 30 girls in your grade will survive to graduation, and then when they are hired, the clients will expect to be entertained. To demonstrate, we have senior Alyssa Bigman, and her victim and sister, 11 year old and until she was late to her first class this morning, 6th grader Jenny. I expect you all to take notes as there will be a discussion and quiz. Alyssa, please come in, start when you are ready”.


The class watched attentively as Alyssa came in. She had a reputation in the school as one of the best students to come through in years. Half of the seniors would die before graduation, but her survival was virtually assured, and she would be a credit to the school. Several girls in the class felt their nether regions tingle as she entered. 5’8, D-cups, stunning green eyes, and an athletic build all displayed in a leather dominatrix outfit and fishnet stockings, she could have any girl she wanted with one smoldering look.


Her sister was a different story. Alyssa led Jenny on a leash, hands cuffed behind her back. Jenny was small, not five feet, skinny, with frizzy hair, big glasses, and just the start of tits under her frilly training bra. A good portion of the class felt bad, Jenny had probably wanted to follow her sister in this path, but she never had a chance, the glasses alone would have meant she couldn’t pass the physical at the start of 9th grade. Despite her death having been assured since she enrolled, Jenny didn’t seem upset, just curious, looking around the room, at the 50 older girls, at the execution devices around the room, at the swaying hips of her big sister, her eyes wide behind the comical lenses.


Alyssa led her sister front and center, smiling. “Thank you for having me Mistress Dorna, and I would like to congratulate the freshman class on making it this far. My sister Jenny wasn’t so lucky, but she’s going to help me with a demonstration today. Never forget, even snuff bunnies make a valuable contribution to your education, isn’t that right Jenny?” the small girl nodded, then smirked “Just be careful with me sis, I only get to do this once!” Alyssa chuckled, a couple other girls took this as a sign that it would be safe to giggle as well, and their Mistress didn’t mark anyone for it, the whole room relaxed a bit.


Alyssa went to the tool cabinet and pulled out a dao, a curved Chinese broadsword. She spun it around her hand a few times as she walked back “So you all have learned to handle a sword, right?”, the girls all nodded, Alyssa smiled “Good! Now, the dao is very well suited for beheading, but there is more to a good beheading than simply removing the head. It’s a show for the audience, and the connection between executioner and victim is more intimate and powerful than sex can ever be. A good executioner should be able to bring their subject to the edge of orgasm. A very good executioner should be able to take them over that edge”. Jenny was smiling broadly at that for sure.


Alyssa produced a blindfold and kissed her sister on the cheek as she took the comically large glasses and tied it “A good executioner should be able to remove the head while her victim is sitting, standing, or kneeling, all without it making any real difference. We’re going to start Jenny off standing, but that may change. The only position that is not allowed is for the subject to be lying down when their head is taken. It isn’t more difficult, but it’s poor form, because in a crowded room, it may be harder for some clients to see. So if the subject ever goes down during the show, it is on the executioner to remedy that, whatever it takes”.


Alyssa started circling her sister, who was visibly trembling with nervous energy. She touched the girl with the blunt side, causing her to jump badly. Jenny and half the class gasped on the next pass around when Alyssa reversed the blade, leaving her sister with a small cut on her upper arm. The third pass left her shoulder bleeding and one bra strap parted. One more rotation, this time with two quick motions of the razor sharp blade and little Jenny was topless, her adorable budding breasts fully exposed, and her nipples, hard as little diamonds, giving some indication to her feelings. She gasped with every touch of the blade, and her breathing had become rapid and shaky. Alyssa pinched one of her pale nips, Jenny whined in horny frustration and discomfort as Alyssa tugged it, leading Jenny by the nipple until she was standing on her tiptoes.


The older girl let go, continuing her circling. She touched to flat of the blade to nipples, buttocks, throat, and every other erogenous zone (which the girls learned to the same tune and at the same time they would have learned ‘Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes’ in the old days), brushing the unsharpened back against her visibly damp panties. Jenny was biting her lips and trying not to squirm as the sensations wracked her skinny body. She was no virgin, but her sister had been right, this was MUCH more intimate and erotic than sex!


Eventually it got to be too much, and Jenny sank onto her knees. Alyssa kept pacing, touching her with the cold blade, opening shallow cuts. Jenny looked like she had gotten into a fight with a box of razor blades, but Alyssa had such a gentle touch and the blade was so sharp, and she was so aroused that she didn’t experience most of it as pain, just electricity in every fiber of her being. That was, until without warning, Alyssa flicked the blade and Jenny was minus one nipple. It was pain like she had never experienced, but it also pushed her over the edge. Alyssa held her upright as her baby sister screamed and rode the most intense orgasm of her life. Alyssa could feel every one of her little muscles fluttering. The older girl was hiding it well, but after this demonstration, she was going to need to grab the nearest thing with a pulse and fuck their brains out.


Jenny was weak from blood loss, Alyssa was wearing boots to keep her from slipping. The little girl was also dizzy from the pain and orgasm. As her big sister flicked the sword and removed her other nipple, Jenny felt that overwhelming surge of sensations all over again. Alyssa could see that her sister wasn’t going to be able to stay upright much longer, and didn’t want to have to torture her to keep her up. So as the sweet girl was in the throes of her second orgasm, Alyssa grabbed her hair with one hand and swung with the other, cleanly decapitating her sister and holding the head high, presenting it to her audience. She gazed at the students, seeing more than half of the class biting their lips hard enough to draw blood, or grasping tables and desks harder than they normally could, in valiant attempts to ride out their own orgasms in silence.


They were absolutely quiet for a few moments, the only sounds being heavy breathing and blood still dripping from either of the two pieces that had been Jenny. Mistress Dorna broke the silence “Well class, I’m sure you would all agree when I congratulate Miss Bigman on a remarkable demonstration. I have seen many executrixes who have been graduated for a decade and couldn’t handle a sword well enough to put on that show. A round of applause for our performer and her subject I think?” the applause was deafening, Alyssa held the head high and took a bow.


Mistress Dorna covered a few key points before the bell rang for lunch and she dismissed her class. Alyssa hung back as they filed out. She had seen a redhead in the back of the room, with big glasses that would be the death of her, it seemed fitting. The pigtailed ginger was the last one to the door, and Alyssa put a hand on her shoulder, causing the girl to look up at her with impossibly wide eyes “How would you feel about skipping lunch and finding a nice quiet corner?” Alyssa asked her. The girl’s eyes got even BIGGER, like the human version of a pug. She squeaked and nodded furiously, too excited to form words. Alyssa led her to a classroom that would be unoccupied, set Jenny’s head on a desk to watch, and the two girls worked off some energy before the next class.

DAMN! That was hot! Gonna have to read it again in private ;-)

May I ask for Chris Thorndyke being hung and fucked as he slowly dies?

I'm sorry Executioner, I am happy to write characters I know, but I am not familiar with that one and don't really have the time to watch his show. I don't like to write established characters if I don't know them well enough to make them different from generic snuff toys :P

>>18217

Thats okay, can I ask for Tails of Sonic fame then

I can't speak for Ellen, I could be wrong, but since those two are the same universe, wouldn't it probably be the same answer?

"could you do one about Luke Skywalker?"

"Sorry, I don't know Luke because I don't watch Star Wars"

"No problem….how about Darth Vader?"

True but Chris is only from the Sonic X anime while Tails is in most of the media save for the first game.

So it would be like if she said she doesnt know Starkiller of Force Unleashed so I mention C3PO

But if Tails is unfamiliar… Conan Edogawa?

(Takes place during the first Kick-Ass movie, opening seconds before Kick-Ass shows up with the bazooka)

Frank D’Amico looked down at the bloody and beaten Hit-Girl on the floor of his office. She was good, she was very good, but Frank had 3 black belts and was about 4 times her size, she never had a chance. Part of Frank didn’t want to kill her, part of him wanted to keep her, break her defiance, and turn her into his own elite muscle. But she had killed too many of his guys, that warehouse fight had been seen by too many people. She had to die or he would look weak. And he couldn’t deny, part of him wanted to kill her, to turn this feisty child into a lump of cold meat, killing always gave him such a feeling of power.


“I wish I had a son like you” he said, absolutely meaning it. “But” he cocked his gun “time for a family reunion”. He raised his hand to pull the trigger and send the tiny ninja to Hell, until he heard footsteps behind him. He turned and saw the deadweight sidekick his son had been fighting, Kick-Ass, if Frank remembered correctly. The young man hefted the bazooka one of Frank’s guys had been carrying and said “Hey! Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” and pulled the trigger.


Unfortunately for Kick-Ass, Frank was not an idiot, and he had excellent reflexes, as demonstrated in his fight with Mindy. He did not stand there with a dumb look on his face, he moved, diving to his left. The rocket flew across the office and out the window, exploding somewhere over the street. Kick-Ass had never been very bright, and he DID stand there trying to understand why his plan hadn’t worked, still puzzling as Frank stood and fired, painting the wall with the brains of the would-be hero.


Frank turned, and Hit-Girl was on him again, screaming in hatred, swinging a letter opener. She gave Frank a pretty good cut on his arm, but it didn’t matter. She had already fought a lot of guys, her style was very high energy, and Frank had hit her a lot of times, including a few hard punches in the face, she was exhausted and concussed. She stumbled and his counterpunch knocked out at least one of her teeth. He grabbed her by the wrist and elbow, swinging her face first into the nearest wall, producing two nasty crunches and a scream as her nose and arm both broke. He threw her to the ground, then hauled her up by the other arm, grabbed her in the same way, and slammed her to the opposite wall, breaking her other arm and concussing her so badly that the adorable badass didn’t even really know where she was. Still, she tried to get in a kick. Frank just took it and knocked her down, before dropping on her leg, snapping her femur.


Mindy hadn’t eaten anything that day, which was good. She felt the snap in her leg, heard it like a branch breaking, and her stomach flipped, would have emptied itself if there had been anything. She inadvertently glanced at it and saw the bone, long and white, red with her blood, with the dark marrow visible, all sticking out of her leg. Mindy felt herself convulsing, every muscle tightening, the ones in her limbs being sliced on the shards of broken bones. Her tortured breathing sounded like broken sobs, even if her pain was fading. Her chattering teeth slammed down on her tongue, she swallowed the tip in her shaking, and tasted the blood filling her mouth. She was cold, so cold, as she saw Frank stand over her with a knife. That was a blessing….or more likely a curse, Mindy reflected…..of the pain, for whatever reason it seemed to clear her head from the multiple concussions.


Frank looked at the brutalized child. She was so little, so helpless, so scared. She should have been in 5th grade, learning decimals and long division, building a volcano, playing with friends at recess, not taking lives and nearing the very end of her own. She should have been home with her mother and father, watching a movie and eating junk food and being loved, not turned into a living weapon, avenging the deaths of everyone she had ever loved, with nothing but an apartment full of weapons and empty of love to go back to even if she somehow won now. A better man than Frank would have felt pity, a man even APPROACHING decency might have taken the girl and raised her as his own, as an enforcer perhaps, but letting her live. But no part of Frank was a good man.


He knelt at her side, stroking her cheek, feeling the silky softness to her skin that was usually faded by the teen years. Her cheeks were wet with blood and sweat and tears, but they still had that delightful feel. She halfheartedly tried to bite him, which resulted in Frank knocking out a couple more teeth. He got a knife and cut at her costume, leaving her naked above the waist. Her torso was reasonably toned, and her chest was completely flat, her areolas so pale they were hardly present. Then Frank slipped a hand inside her pants, and as much as even breathing hurt, as cold and tired as she was, and as much as she would have thought herself emotionally dead, Mindy still found tears to let fall, she would have not one shred of mercy.


Frank ripped away her cosplay pants and Hello Kitty panties, one of the few childish things she had still cherished. He flipped her over, wanting to sodomize the child.He touched her nearly flat ass, gave a few swats, then spit and tried to push himself inside. Mind cried out and Frank grunted. She was too small, too tight. He retrieved the proper lube from his desk and tried again, it just wasn’t happening. She was too tense, her muscles were too tense, there was only one solution. He propped Mindy up against his knee and took either side of her head in his hands. Mindy felt her jaw break as he started to twist, but her shock had gone so far that it hurt less than being punched. She did feel a dull, sickening sensation and her neck was slowly turned too far. At last, the was a distant ‘pop’, and to Mindy in her absolute last moments, it was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard. She was dead long before Frank used brute force to twist her blonde little head off of her body.


A few days later, Colonel Star and Stripes and his crew of aspiring heroes got a large package. Inside were the clearly raped remains of Hit-Girl and Kick-Ass. Both had obviously been used repeatedly in all available holes. Kick-Ass was returned in his entirety, Hit-Girl…..her stuffed head remained a prized toy and trophy that Frank kept in his office for many years to come.

>>18280
Oh my…!

>>15453
>Around the room, there were a spit, a guillotine, which the school felt presented a better image than Loppers, and a spit. Emma would announce the three condemned students from highest failing score to lowest, and the students would choose the method of their deaths in that order. The spit was slow, and exceptionally painful, the girl who was subjected to it would often need to be almost fully impaled, dying from internal bleeding before her heart gave out. Unsurprisingly, Emma in three years at the school had only seen a girl who did not have the absolute lowest score choose the spit twice, once because it was the student’s greatest fetish, and once by the #2, who knew her best friend was #3 and wanted to spare her from that.
>and once by the #2, who knew her best friend was #3 and wanted to spare her from that.
Wouldn't that require that #1 also pick the spit, since there are two spits? Is that likely?

It was just a typo, I forget what device it was supposed to be because it was one of my first stories, but there is only one spit :)

>>16296
nice story.I like the laws in this story.>>16296