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    No.29402 [Report] AS
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    I kicked the classroom door shut behind me with a lazy heel, the bang echoing down the empty hallway like a gunshot nobody gave a shit about. Third period was over, kids had scattered like roaches when the lights flick on, and I’d told the last stragglers to fuck off early. The room still smelled faintly of teenage sweat, cheap body spray, and the chalk dust that never quite settles. Mine now.
    Lena was already bent over the supply cabinet in the back, ass up like she thought the black leather skirt would hide how much she wanted it noticed. Goth assistant, my personal little shadow for the last six months. Medium tits pushed against a ripped fishnet top, silver rings through both nipples glinting every time she breathed. Black lipstick smeared just enough to look like she’d already been face-fucked once today. Probably had.
    I leaned against the teacher’s desk, arms crossed, watching her pretend to organize markers.
    “Yo, Morticia,” I called. “You gonna keep wiggling that pale ass at me or actually do something useful?”
    She straightened slow, dramatic, the way goths do when they think they’re in control. Turned. Smirked. “Sir, I’m cataloging your dry-erase carnage. Very useful.”
    “Catalog this.” I unzipped, pulled my cock out, already half-hard from the walk over just thinking about what I was gonna do to her. “Get over here and wrap those pierced tits around it. Let’s see if the metal makes it sting nicer.”
    Her eyes flicked down, then back up. Tongue darted across black lips. “Thought you’d never ask.”
    She crossed the room in those clunky platform boots, dropped to her knees without being told. Good girl. Always was when it came to dick. She cupped her tits, squeezed them together so the nipple rings kissed, then slid my shaft between the warm, soft valley. The metal clicked against skin. Cold at first, then warming fast as she started pumping.
    “Fuck yeah,” I muttered, grabbing a fistful of her dyed-black hair. “Look at you. All spooky makeup and razor-blade jewelry, but you’re still just another tit-fuck hole with a pulse. Bet those rings are the only thing keeping your nipples from falling off after how many times I’ve twisted ’em.”
    She moaned around the compliment, tongue flicking the head every time it poked through the top of her cleavage. “You love it, sir. You love breaking the pretty ones.”
    “Damn right.” I yanked her head back hard enough that her neck popped. “But today I’m not breaking pretty. Today I’m breaking useless.”
    I hauled her up by the hair, spun her, slammed her chest-down across the wide teacher’s desk. Papers scattered. A coffee mug hit the floor and shattered. Didn’t care. I ripped the fishnet top down the middle—easy, already half-torn—and those pierced nipples popped free. Dark areolas, stiff from the cold air and the fear she was trying to hide behind bravado.
    “Hands behind your back.”
    She obeyed. I grabbed a coil of old jump-rope from the PE storage bin someone had forgotten in here last semester, looped it around her wrists, cinched tight. Then I took the loose end, threw it over the ceiling fan’s pull-chain hook—yeah, the school still had those ancient fans with the long chains—and yanked until her arms jerked upward, shoulders straining.
    “Ow—fuck—sir—”
    “Shut it.” I wrapped the rope twice more around her throat, not quite a noose yet, just enough to remind her breathing was a privilege. Her boots scraped the linoleum as I forced her up onto tiptoes.
    I stepped behind her, flipped the skirt over her hips. No panties—of course. Just a smooth, pale ass and a cunt already glistening like she’d been edging herself all morning thinking about this.
    “Wet already? Pathetic.” I slapped her cunt hard, once, twice. The wet smack echoed. She yelped. “You leak just hearing my boots in the hall, don’t you?”
    “Y-yes sir—”
    I rammed in without warning, balls-deep in one brutal thrust. Her whole body jerked forward, tits flattening against the desk, nipple rings scraping wood. I didn’t give her time to adjust. Just started pounding, using her hips like handles, each slam shoving her ribcage into the desk edge.
    Crack.
    One rib gave. Maybe two. She screamed—high, ragged, perfect. I felt the vibration all the way down my cock.
    “There we go,” I growled, leaning over her back so my mouth was against her ear. “First one snapped like a twig. How many more you think you got before I turn you into a sack of broken meat?”
    She was gasping, trying to form words around the rope collaring her throat. “P-please—sir—more—”
    I laughed. Reached around, grabbed one tit, twisted the ring until the flesh puckered white around it. Then I fished in the desk drawer—scissors, the big orange-handled kind they use to cut poster board. Opened them wide.
    “Time to lighten the load, emo slut. These udders are just getting in the way.”
    She froze. Real fear now, cutting through the masochistic haze.
    “Sir—no—wait—”
    I didn’t wait. I pinched the base of her left tit, pulled it taut, and sheared. The scissors weren’t surgical; they were classroom crap. Took three hard snips. Meat parted with wet resistance. Blood sprayed across the blotter, hot and coppery. She shrieked so loud the windows rattled.
    The breast came free in my hand—heavy, warm, still twitching with leftover nerve signals. Nipple ring glinting in the fluorescent light.
    I held it up in front of her face while I kept fucking her, slower now, savoring the way her cunt clamped every time she sobbed.
    “Look at it. Your tit. Used to be part of you. Now it’s just garbage.” I squeezed it; blood oozed between my fingers. “Open.”
    She did, shaking. I stuffed the severed breast into her mouth, ring-first. She gagged instantly—choking on her own meat, tears streaking black mascara down her cheeks.
    “Good girl. Chew if you want. Or just hold it there while I finish redecorating.”
    I pulled out, spun her around so her back was to the desk, then yanked the rope tighter. The ceiling fan chain creaked. Her toes barely touched now. Face turning red, eyes bulging.
    I stepped up on the chair, lined up, and shoved back into her dripping cunt while she dangled. Gravity did half the work; every shallow breath she stole made her sink further onto me. I fucked upward, brutal, feeling the broken ribs grind inside her chest.
    Her body started to spasm—orgasm or hypoxia, didn’t matter. Cunt fluttered, milking me. I grabbed the other tit, twisted the ring one last time, then rammed the scissors through the base and sawed.
    Second breast came off cleaner. I dropped it on the floor—plop—then used the bloody scissors to cut the rope just enough to drop her.
    She hit the desk hard, gasping, choking on the tit still crammed in her mouth. I straddled her chest, cock slick with her juices and blood, and forced her head back.
    “Time to say goodnight, pain-slut.”
    I wrapped both hands around her throat—rope still there for extra grip—and squeezed. Her eyes rolled, tongue pushing the severed breast out. I didn’t let up. Kept squeezing until the thrashing stopped, until the pupils fixed, until the last weak flutter of her cunt around nothing told me she was gone.
    I pulled out, jerked twice, and painted her dead face—black lipstick, ruined mascara, and now thick ropes of white across the bridge of her nose.
    Stepped back. Admired the mess. Two tits on the floor like discarded stress balls, wrists still bound, body sprawled across the desk like a broken doll.
    I zipped up, kicked one of the tits so it rolled under a student chair.
    “One goth cunt down,” I muttered, already half-hard again thinking about what was waiting in the bathroom. “School’s still got plenty of holes.”
    I left the lights on. Let the janitor cunts deal with it later.
    They always do.
    >>
    No.29403 [Report]
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    Fun story! But if you hit enter twice at the end of each paragraph, it makes it much easier to read

    Like this, so there's an empty space between the two
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    No.29404 [Report]
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    I loved the casual theme of this story and how normal that event was in the story's world. It made a very good read.

    Also, I need something in my life as reliable as this ceiling fan!
    >>
    No.29405 [Report]
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    >>29403
    Thanks! will o=do in the futre!

    >>29404
    Thanks
    >>
    No.29415 [Report]
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    Let me try again.

    I sauntered down Main Street, hands in my pockets, dick half-hard from the morning's bullshit commute. Town was buzzing like always—cunts everywhere, strutting their shit in skimpy tops and shorts that barely covered their sloppy holes. The guillotine fuckstops dotted the sidewalks every block or so, those shiny metal contraptions bolted to the pavement, blades glinting in the sun. Public service, right? Any guy could drag a bitch over, lock her in, and turn her into a headless fucktoy for the day. Kept the population in check, and hell, it was entertaining as fuck.
    Up ahead, some fat-assed milf was getting her due at one of the stops. She was bent over, neck slotted in the lunette, her saggy tits flopping as a couple of construction workers took turns reaming her ass. One guy yanked the lever mid-thrust—schlick—and her head tumbled into the basket, blood spraying like a busted hose. Her body jerked, asshole clenching around his cock like it was trying to milk him dry. He laughed, nutted inside the twitching corpse, then wiped his dick on her skirt and walked off. The other worker shrugged, flipped her over, and started pounding her dead cunt while a cleanup bot whirred up to haul the head away. Just another Tuesday.


    I smirked, stepping around a puddle of piss from some earlier snuff. Needed to blow off steam—boss had been riding my ass all week, and nothing cleared the head like ruining a fresh piece of meat. That's when I spotted her: this perky little redhead, maybe twenty, bouncing along in a tank top that hugged her fat jugs and yoga pants that screamed "fuck my ass till I bleed." She was chatting on her phone, oblivious, tits jiggling with every step. Perfect. I cut her off, grabbing a fistful of that ginger hair and yanking her head back hard.


    "What the—hey, asshole!" she spat, phone clattering to the ground. Her green eyes flashed fire, but I saw the flush on her cheeks. These sluts always pretend they ain't asking for it.


    "Shut your cock-hole, bitch," I growled, slamming her against the nearest wall. "You're my entertainment now. Name's Rick, but you can call me 'sir' while I wreck your worthless ass."


    She squirmed, but her nipples poked through the thin fabric like little traitors. "Fuck you! Let go or I'll scream!"


    I laughed, backhanding her across the face—crack—watching her lip split, blood trickling down her chin. "Scream all you want, cunt. Ain't nobody gonna stop a man from using what's his." I ripped her tank top down the middle, exposing those pale, freckled udders. Grabbed one roughly, twisting the nipple till she yelped. "These milk bags are gonna look real pretty when I carve 'em up."
    Her breath hitched, but she tried to knee me in the balls. Dumb move. I dodged, drove my fist into her gut—thud—doubling her over, wind knocked out.

    "Fucking try that again, and I'll gut you right here." Dragged her by the hair toward the closest guillotine fuckstop, empty except for some dried cum stains on the base. She clawed at my arm, nails drawing blood, but that just made my cock throb harder.


    "P-please, sir, don't—I'll suck you off, anything!" she whimpered, voice cracking as I forced her knees into the dirt, shoving her neck into the lunette. Click—the lock engaged, trapping her like the animal she was.


    "Too late for begging, twat. You sluts are all the same—strut around like your holes are gold, then cry when a real man claims 'em." I yanked her yoga pants down, exposing her bare ass and that shaved, dripping slit. "Look at you, leaking like a faucet. You want this, don't you? Filthy pig."
    She twisted, ass cheeks jiggling. "No! Fuck off, you prick! Help! Somebody—"


    I stomped on her back, grinding her tits into the gravel. "Nobody's helping, whore. Watch this." Across the street, some blonde jogger got snatched by a group of teens. They pinned her down, one shoving his cock down her throat while another lit a blowtorch under her feet. Her screams bubbled around the dick as her soles blistered and charred, flesh peeling. The kids laughed, taking turns roasting her legs till she was a thrashing mess, then one slit her belly open, spilling guts onto the pavement. They pissed on the steaming pile and left her gurgling her last breaths. Just background noise in this shithole town.


    Back to my ginger fuckmeat. I spat on her asshole, rammed two fingers in dry— she howled, hole clenching like a vice. "Tight little shitter. Bet you've been saving it for some beta boyfriend. Too bad—I'm gonna split you open." Pulled my cock out, thick and veined, and forced the head against her pucker. No lube, no mercy—shoved in hard, feeling her ring tear as I buried half my length. She shrieked, body bucking, blood slicking the way.
    "Aaaagh! Stop, you bastard—it hurts!"


    "Good. Pain's what you cunts are for." I gripped her hips, nails digging into flesh, and hammered deeper, balls slapping her wet cunt with each thrust. Her ass ripped wider, blood mixing with her juices dripping down her thighs. Reached around, clamped my hand on her clit, pinching hard till she convulsed. "Cum for me, you stupid sow. Show me how much you love getting reamed like trash."


    She sobbed, but her hips betrayed her, grinding back as an orgasm ripped through. "F-fuck... no... ahhh!" Her hole spasmed around my shaft, milking me. I pulled out, smeared blood and shit on her back, then flipped her focus to her front. Grabbed a loose brick from the curb—whack—smashed it into her left tit, flattening the mound. Flesh split, fat oozing out like burst pudding.


    "You sick fuck! My boob—"


    "Shut up." Another swing—crunch—caved in the right one, turning her chest into a pulpy mess. She wailed, blood bubbling from her mouth. I dropped the brick, shoved my cock into her ruined cleavage, fucking the mangled tit-meat while she thrashed. "These udders were made for this—squishing like overripe fruit."


    Her cries weakened, body slumping as shock set in. But I wasn't done. Yanked her head up by the hair—well, as much as the lunette allowed—and forced my bloody cock down her throat. She gagged, vomit surging up around it, but I face-fucked her mercilessly, skull-fucking till her eyes bulged. Pulled out, let her puke, then rammed back in. "Choke on it, bitch. Taste your own ass-rip."


    In the background, a brunette office slut stumbled out of a cafe, coffee in hand. Some delivery guy on a bike swerved, clipped her— she went down, head cracking on the curb. He hopped off, shrugged, unzipped, and pissed into the gash in her skull while her legs kicked. Finished, he mounted her twitching corpse, rutting her till she stilled, then pedaled away like nothing happened.


    My ginger was fading, face purple from the abuse. I pulled out of her mouth, strings of bile dangling, and positioned behind her again. This time, aimed for her cunt—slammed in balls-deep, feeling her walls tear from the force. "One last ride, meat." Pounded her savagely, hand wrapping around to her throat, squeezing till her gasps turned ragged. She came again, squirting weakly, body betraying her one final time.


    "Time to end this, you pathetic cum-dump." I reached for the lever, cock still buried in her spasming hole. Yanked it—schlick—the blade dropped, severing her head clean. Blood fountained from the stump, her body convulsing wildly, cunt clamping like a death grip. I roared, unloading deep inside the headless wreck, pumping till my balls ached empty.


    Stepped back, watching the corpse twitch its last. Her head rolled out of the basket, eyes glassy, mouth agape in eternal surprise. I kicked it into the gutter, where a stray dog sniffed it, then pissed on it before wandering off.
    Wiped my cock on her discarded pants, zipped up, and kept walking. Town was full of fresh meat—why stop at one? Felt damn good, though. Confidence booster for the afternoon grind.
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    No.29420 [Report]
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    >>29415
    is dolcett practiced in this snuff world?

    do you have a pen name?
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    No.29438 [Report]
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    >>29420
    dolcett happen but not as much diffsued as in original dolcett settings.

    I post some AI pics by Mrik or Snusnumrik, but my pixiv got banned and i never bothered making a new one.

    i do not post stories besides here.


    Currently I want to do worldbuidling. Understand how such a society would work and what desires would girls have in such settings.

    Any help?
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    No.29439 [Report]
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    >>29438
    oh
    if its world building you want to do, there is nothing better in my humble opinion.

    if you feel like discussing it, you can hit me on my email in my avatar name, up here
    :)
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