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This is my first story in a very very long time. I have had the idea for ages but I just never got round to putting pen to paper.
Writing isn't really my strongest point but I've been inspired and motivated recently to see what I can do.

This is part 1 to maybe 3 or 4. If people like it I will continue, especially seeing as I kinda have part 2 generally blocked out already.

Apologies in advanced if it either doesn't make sense or I repeat words/terms, or if my writing generally if a bit all over the place. I likely will repost an edited/improved version of part 1 with part 2 in the near future.

And of course, Feedback is much appreciated. Good and Bad. Hit me with what you honestly think. I generally want to improve.

In it's most basic form, the story is about a reporter being captured and executed by terrorists.


Katie was dragged further by her captors. The Sack on her head preventing her from seeing anything after just getting out of the vehicle she was captured into.
It seemed like hours, but finally it was pulled off her head and she was hit by the bright light of the middle eastern sun, unable to shield her eyes with her hands due to them being bounded tightly.

One of the men came out of the truck and set up a very expensive looking camera in-front of her and jokingly turned to her saying "HD HD HD 4K 3D. People will see everything!"...and then briskly left.

Her curly red hair seemed to bounce each time she moved her head to look towards her captors and the hot outdoor environment, tied back so it wouldn’t get in the way of seeing the agony in her face and deep blue eyes. Her small but perky red lips trembled slightly at the thought of what is to come and slightly paler complexion was going to contrast perfectly with the blood that will pour from her body.

She tried to focus on what the men were saying. Being a reporter for one of the biggest news broadcasting networks in UK, and specialising in reporting developments in the middle east, the had taken the time to pick up the common languages there on a basic level.
What she heard and recognised made her shriek and scream for help.

“They…they’re going to kill me!?” She thought in a panic.

They started by striping her, tearing off her clothing against her sPost too long. Click here to view the full text.
4 posts omitted. Click reply to view.


Always love debreasting and tit destruction.

I wonder how much more she can take before she did off?...


Any word on the next part?



About 70% through part 3. Should be up by beginning of next week...ish.


Where did the writer went? Maybe because how the site is hard to reach, it get discontinue. Can anyone that want to write start another terrorism story like this? Thanks.



Im still here! Gurochan doesn't seem to work for me most of the time for me...plus life has me by the balls at the moment.

Im almost done with it though so bare with me ;)


By Kitty Cunt and Mister Moody 1 (Rape, Asphyxiation, Loli, Snuff) The loli stuff comes in part 2 which is not finished.

The day was balmy, belying the mid autumn season. He walked through the down town city center, with a calm even pace; his mind only on what he should have for lunch. He stops, and looks inside one of the cafe windows. Behind his tall and stocky reflection, he spied a small group of women, chatting as they eat lunch.

It wasn't the decent looking red head, or the petite blond that caught his eyes. Their breasts were far from adequate for his tastes. It wasn't them, but the third woman, the one tall, skinny one, he found much more interesting. Her tanless skin made even paler by her dark, black hair, which was tied back behind her head in a pony tail. Her breasts were exquisite, large and shapely, they pressed against the bounds of the small, tight shirt she was wearing.

Seeing her had made up his mind, and he entered the cafe, now with the intention of satisfying two hungers at once. As he makes his way toward the group, peices of their conversation float over to him.

“What you do expect John will want during the meeting?” his prize asked the others.

“Oh the usual, I would imagine. He wants me on his lap,” the forgetful one with small breasts repsonded, sounding a bit put out. “I heard Sabrina, got a choice task,”

The brunette grinned, “I get to wear the snack tray! What was your assignment, Kitty?”

“I'm going under the table,” Kitty began, even her name sounded delicious. “Can't say I'm looking forward to it, this is the only shirt I brought, and now it'll be covered in cum!”

“You're so lucky,” the small breasted blond mumbled, “I never get to do the fun stuff, my tits are too small.”

“Ah, Dee,” Kitty leaned over and patted her friend's hand, noticing her jealous stare, “It's not all fun and games having big boobs. Sometimes I wish I never got these implants. You know when I was flat...” but Kitty's words got trapped in her throat. Her friends were staring at something behind her, but before she could react, somone firmly groped her breasts. Fingers dug into her sentistaive flesh before gripping on the fabric of her shirt and ripping it open. Buttons flew in all directions.

“H..hey!” Kitty shouted, turning back to face her attacker. She stared as the man unbuttoned his jeans and a huge, throbing, erect cock popped out from the opening, right in front of her face. HPost too long. Click here to view the full text.
3 posts omitted. Click reply to view.


no, thats her co-writer... and I'm american actualy.


Resurrecting fics that fell off due to spammers.


Big fan of your blog.


Love the story, which blog are you referring to?


I assume referring to her Tumblr: Kittykunt Dot tumblr Dot com/



Manning a secondary transcription bay was considered a dead-end post. You were only assigned something as mundane as a rarely used backup transcriptor as punishment. This was the case for Kubler and doubtless had been for all of his predecessors. Various doodles from many hands covered his thick wooden desk—as old as the entire ship—showing a hundred years of disgraced engineer boredom.

Kubler didn’t mind the ancient outdated décor or the long hours of tedium. The job was by far the easiest he had had on the ship and as a man who loved undemanding work, he would be thrilled to keep it for the rest of his life on the colony ship’s multi-generation long voyage.

Besides, there were always people who found creative uses for the powerful matter transcriptor and he wasn’t above a little risk to make some money on the side. Most of these side jobs were drug related. The transcriptor could handle complex chemical compositions easily. One handful of pills could be easily copied and reproduced as many times as needed, for a pittance of raw material use. As long as no one got too greedy or careless, for a small price to Kubler you could have a virtually unlimited supply.

Other people had more unique vices. One of his customers had an actual live chicken, one of a dozen smuggled aboard when the ship first launched, the natural offspring passed down in secret, the owners forming a secret cabal to allow the chickens to meet and breed. Actual eggs were prized black market items on the ship, the rumor was that the current captain had a boiled egg for breakfast every morning and allowed the crime to continue unpunished as a hundred year old tradition. As far as Kubler knew, only he and his client were aware that one of the chickens was actually copied, killed, cooked and eaten by its owner once a month, making him one of the few colonists to have eaten animal flesh.

And then there were the twins.

Liz and Ross cautiously entered the bay, Ross carrying their long ship-standard engineers toolbag by the handle. It was the night shift, the vast majority of colonists would be asleep. Kubler knew what they wanted, they had been here often.

“Hello kids,” he pleasantly greeted them “feel like using the bay for a bit?”

Liz smiled prettily at him. The cute sixteen year olds smile was completely innocent and kind as she handed Kubler a disc that, as per their agreement, was full of fresh pictures of hPost too long. Click here to view the full text.
13 posts omitted. Click reply to view.


I have a couple more partially done. (As well as several pages that I hammered out without getting to the sex/gore, which I won't bother to post)

School has been getting in the way of any recreational writing, but I'll work on them and finish them up in the next couple of days since people seem to be interested. Both of the imminently upcoming stories feature Liz and Ross, one in the same setting they've been in (the last in that particular setting) and another with a slightly different setting.

After that there will be more characters from the ship introduced and a slightly larger plot/more sci-fi mutilation weirdness.

I'm glad you like it <3

I guess what I meant to get across here is that Ross would never permanently kill his beloved sister (at least not at this point) and that they know each other well enough that his not doing so made this point for him. Is could have been clearer though.




I still hope to see more of this story. It is easily among my favorites. Everything is just so perfect about it I don't even know where to start. The characters being twins, the way they love each other, the way they have fun doing all the guro stuff... and the way death is both final and not at the same time. The way the cloning machine makes two copies while destroying the original, leaving no place to pointless arguments over which of clones is original, is a very nice detail. Please, write more.




Bump to save from spammers.

Also, is there any hope to see this continued?


This story is a collaborative effort between PogueMahone and myself. If you like it, you might enjoy some of our other work, which can be found here:


You'll probably need to adjust your filters (in the top left corner) to make sure you can see all the stories.

There are more chapters to come. Enjoy!


written by JestInPieces and PogueMahone

Chapter 1: Once shy, twice bitten

“Ow, my head.”

Clara blinked against the bright sunlight. She raised her right hand to block out the sun and opened her eyes. Right in the middle of her bare forearm was a blood-stained bite mark. For a moment, she struggled to remember how it had gotten there, her memory a swirl of confusing images. Then everything suddenly popped into focus. She had been walking across campus with her best friend Janet when a man had come running up to them. His skin had been grey and he was slobbering and growling, like a wild animal. Or a zombie.

But that couldn’t be. Zombies weren’t real.

There’d been a stab of pain, then a loud bang, like a gun going off. Then darkness. Her eyes flew open. Where was Janet? She looked to her left, but instead of the girl she was looking for she saw the man that had attacked her, lying face down on the ground with his head in a pool of blood. There was a gaping hole in the back of his head, revealing a mass of pink and red. She quickly turned away, choking back the bile she felt rising in her throat. She looked to her right, and her relief was almost palpable when she saw the body of her brunette friend lying next to her in the grass. She quickly crawled over to her and patted her cheek.

“Janet? Janet, are you okay?”

“Unnnnhhhhh,” Janet groaned. “Five more minutes.”

Janet was not allowed to doze, being forcefully shaken awake.

“Jeez, what… actually, why am I asleep outside? With you? Oh my god, it’s summer camp all over again. Please tell me we have clothes this time–”

“Janet, this is serious!”

Clara showed off the clearly dead man, which Janet took slightly Post too long. Click here to view the full text.
18 posts omitted. Click reply to view.


Maybe eating enough will let their missing bits grow back?




Bump to save from faggot spammer


Checking in for the season: this story is still my nut fuel. I do hope y'all are still working on stories, either on HF or somewhere else (do tell if you do lol)


We are; in fact, we are currently working on the next chapter to this story. However, PogueMahone is on vacation at the moment and I will be too in a few weeks, so unfortunately I expect the next installment won't be finished until late November or early December.



Even before I got to the top of the barren, weed-spiked ridge to see it - I knew the massive electro-static pulse had done its job. I could smell it. Death. The high altitude strike plane had passed over here maybe only an hour or two ago. I knew it probably fried the group I had been sent to intercept, with a precision strike as it skimmed undetected on the edge of space. I had told the brass that I wanted the first crack at the target. It had become personal for me and I wanted to end things my way… nice and messy. But I knew I was gonna be too late.

Way too late.

Fuck it all - If only they had let me tackle them first! Now that slippery goddamn bitch is probably dead! Damn - and I SO wanted to be the one to take that uppity little fuck down too!

I thought about all that excess semen I had let build up - surging and rushing around in my pulsing, throbbing nutsack - filling my body with intense aggression. I had saved it all up… just for this very encounter and now… it was rapidly looking like a dead end.

Guess I can kiss that my dreams of payback goodbye. I’ll have to settle for raping a fucking corpse… oh well.

I knew the stink in the air wasn't just any old death smell either. Like, say… a dead moose or somethin' because there's a real unique characteristic about the way dead humans smell.

I'm not talkin' about all the chemistry jazz behind the elements I was currently processing from the scents either. Sure, my onboard cybernetic suite could isolate the esters… and it was that specific molecule mixture which includes the unmistakable whiff of good ol' propyl hexanoate that told the story.

It's that nasty compound that creates the distinctively sour and sharp smell along with a special kind of - subtle, fruity undertone… like pineapples left in the sun. It's a unique sweetness that says… human.

I made it to the crest of the ridge. On the other side, I could see the rocky ground, slope gently away towards a river that looked like a steel ribbon cutting through the green valley below. I could see the rocks and dust of the high plains slowly give way to clumps of grass that got thicker and more lush as the terrain approached the lower elevations. It would have been a pretty nice view if it hadn't been for all the dead bodies littering the slope.

They had been heading for the woods, but never made it. Strewn in a ragged arc roughly 50 to 75 yards in front of me, a whole strikePost too long. Click here to view the full text.


Resurrecting fics that fell off due to spammers.


This is really brutal, I like it.
Shitting part is the most brutal, it turn me off at that point but amazing story anyway. 10/10


We were friends since early college. Tom, Steve, Martin, Gerry, Toby. Alice and Toby were together from the start, Mina and Steve as well. Gerry had a girlfriend, but she wasn't into this kind of stuff and staid home. And me of course. Lydia. I've been part of the original group. I call them close friends, and if anyone had asked me if I'd mind a bit of benefits, I wouldn't have said no. But effectively I was single.

The trip was planned for late summer, and the weather agreed, too. I guess we had planned it for two years, although back then it had just been a silly idea after too much booze.

Somehow that idea had become more and more real, and now we were actually in Steve's minibus and driving out into the wilderness. For the barbecue.

We brought everything. Spits, charcoal, grill, even bricks for a fire-oven. Gerry had brought a ginormous kettle that looked like an evil witch would cook in it. All the gear didn't even fit in the bus, we had a trailer with that stuff and the tent.

What we didn't have was meat. And no, we weren't going hunting.

We were the meat. Well, not the boys. But Alice was almost the driving force behind it all. Without her we would have just discarded the idea. Mina, well she was a bit hesitant. I assume it scared her as much as it turned her on. Maybe it turend her on so much because she was scared. Some people are like that.

And me? Sure, I think its hot. And it would only be fair if I contribute, right? But I didn't think I'd take it all the way. I wanna watch. I'm curious. Sure, I'd try some stuff, too. Thats the coast of entry, can't be a spoilsport. What exactly, I still had no idea. I think noone had.

We knew exactly where we'd go. It was a designated grill and bbq place, but ever since they had closed the interstate and build the new highway, it was really difficult to get ther. You had to take backroads through the forest and the place was overgrown. Tom had even checked it out and made photos. We had a chainsaw and some machetes to clear the brush and make it useable.

On the first evening we were too exhausted. Building the tent had taken till ten PM and we only ate a few prepackaged granola bars for dinner and went to sleep, exhausted.

The next morning, Mina surprised us with fresh milk.

Mina had had a miscarriage. The baby boy had been deformed and her body had thrown him out lifeless, over a month early. But shPost too long. Click here to view the full text.
13 posts omitted. Click reply to view.


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Real nice story
Good Job


Totally agree!! I was hoping for a good beheading even while I was like "aww"...


I haven't finished reading this story yet because I'm trying to enjoy it in fap-sized parts but it's really well written and hits some of my sweet spots.

So thanks for that and keep writing!


Great work BR, i'm glad the site is back under cntrol now, gurochan is such a rollercoaster :D



Bump for deletion.


tl;dr: Outworld invades Earth via a fusion of the two realms... but ends up in the wrong dimension, one where a tale of souls and swords is eternally retold. Ivy Valentine finds out she's hopelessly overmatched when it comes to Mortal Kombat.


Ivy moaned softly as she swayed back and forth in the arena known as The Pit, a dazed look on her battered face. A trickle of blood and drool ran out of her pouty purple-painted lips, and her short white hair was disheveled, tossed to and fro from the dominatrix's beating. Ivy's right arm hung limply at her side, weapon lost to the abyss, her severed formerly armored left arm lying discarded on the floor. Her large breasts jiggled as she tottered on her high-heeled boots, barely able to keep her balance on the narrow, dimly lit bridge. Ivy's skimpy costume was even more so now, having been practically torn to shreds in her struggle. Her massive tits were exposed to the world, succulent wine-colored nipples blood-engorged and stiff with excitement. Bruises dotted the pale ivory flesh of Ivy's breasts, belly, and thick thighs. The defeated domina's plump ass was entirely revealed, the fabric of her thong hanging loosely over the valley of Ivy's ass-crack. Pink open-faced hand marks were visible on the smooth flesh, welts rising where Ivy had been spanked into submission. Those same hand marks were visible on the tall woman's elegant throat, showing where she had been throttled. A steady drip-drip of honey came from her inflamed white-tufted pussy as Ivy swayed, the musky fluid dripping into the small puddle on the ground below. The slightly spread petals twitched in anticipation as a spectral voice filled the air:


With the command echoing through the air, Ivy's opponent approached her, his cyborg eye glinting. Ivy tried to shrink away, but her battered body would not respond. Instead, all she could do was cry out weakly as Kano grabbed her hair and pulled her to her knees, her face staring right at his throbbing erection.

"'ey sheila, fancy a fuck? Not like you got much of a choice," Kano laughed, hand releasing Ivy's hair to brandish his knife. "Don't even think about biting or I'll be wearing your head around my cock."

Ivy obediently wrapped her lips around his manhood, tongue slurping and cheeks hollowing out as she sucked on him. Kano grunted with pleasure and chuckled as he looked down at the once-proud woman servicing him. He didn'Post too long. Click here to view the full text.
3 posts omitted. Click reply to view.


Thanks for the kind words. I eventually plan on introducing Taki to the Living Forest but don't have anything concrete set yet.


Taki fares better... for a bit.



Kano groaned as he heard those words, head throbbing as he tried to regain his senses. That red-clad bitch had really beaten the shit out of him, he thought ruefully to himself as he watched Taki striding imperiously towards him, her large breasts bouncing gently. It hadn't been much of a fight, not after she had ambushed him in the mists of the Living Forest. It looked like not every female warrior in this strange realm he had been sent to was as easy of a target as Ivy had been, Kano mused, the fond memory of the dominatrix's humiliating death stirring up Kano's loins. Watching Taki's tits jiggle, her nipples hard points jutting through the fabric of her thin bodysuit, stirred up even more of a feeling. It's too bad that he hadn't been able to see how those felt; it certainly had been hard to fight against the ninja with his erection straining against his pants from the erotic promise that Taki's scantily clad body represented.

Taki had certainly noticed Kano's distraction during their fight, choosing a selection of attacks that had sent her voluptuous tits bouncing, put her big ass in close proximity to the man's leering face, and shown off her tender fabric-covered snatch. He had been so easy to manipulate, clearly thinking about what he was going to do to her without even coming close to winning the fight. Of course, Taki had those fantasies as well - only hers were going to be realized.

She had observed Kano's battle against Ivy from a medium range, concealing her presence through her shinobi arts. That concealment had almost been ruined as Taki had played with herself while watching her rival's demise. She had battled with the tall woman many a time, their encounters often ending with Taki a bound plaything, struggling helplessly against her bonds while Ivy's boot heel penetrated the Asian slut's climaxing petals. So she had enjoyed herself greatly, kneading her breasts and rubbing at her crotch while Kano humiliated Ivy. And Taki had to bite her lip to keep from crying out at Ivy's evisceration, her entire body trembling as she made a wet sticky mess in her bodysuit.

That observation session, though, was just as productive as it was pleasurable. The learnings from it had also given Taki a leg up in her battle against Kano. She had taken great pleasure in nullifying all his tricks and surprises after she tracked him down in the Living Post too long. Click here to view the full text.


Ivy awoke with a start, screaming hoarsely and thrashing. Her legs kicked wildly about as if she was falling, as her arms flailed for purchase.


Ivy's panic subsided slightly - arms. She had both of her arms, passing both of them in front of her face to confirm. The tall woman then started patting down the rest of her nude body, taking inventory. No spikes through her legs. No spikes through her belly. No spikes through her shoulders. Her head was intact.

The alchemist sighed. It had all been a dream, she thought as her hands lingered on her heavy breasts and stiff, blood-engorged nipples - a very, very, pleasurable dream. She hadn't been beaten into submission, Ivy thought to herself, one hand stroking her inflamed teats as the other made its way down to her honey-dripping gash. Her elegant fingers made their way into the silky flesh, pleasuring herself as she recalled her dream.

She hadn't been forced into a squirting climax from being spanked, hadn't debased herself begging to be made into a big titted trophy for her conqueror, hadn't sucked his cock while playing with herself, hadn't humped his fingers like a whore while he held over a metal-lined pit of death, and most certainly hadn't been thrown to her demise, her voluptuous body pincushioned by cruel spikes as she came helplessly... as this last "memory" filled Ivy's head, she cried out in orgasm. Ivy's body writhed as her hand in her pussy and fingers crushing her erect wine-colored nipples elicited a spray of girlcum from her spasming cunt.

Panting heavily as the ecstasy from her masochistic fantasy subsided, Ivy took stock of her situation. She was lying in a cot in a small room, location unknown, sunlight filtering in from a barred window on the door. Her sword hung, retracted, on a mount on the wall. Her skimpy outfit was folded neatly on a table next to her, her armor and high heeled boots laid out as well.

Ivy got up, head clearing, and started putting on her clothes. She had no knowledge of how she had gotten here, her last memory her dream of being executed by Kano. As she squeezed her sizeable breasts into their confines, she frowned. Her outfit felt rougher, unfamiliar, not quite fitting exactly as she remembered. The fabric was fine, but it felt like a well-done copy rather than hers.

Valentine, though, felt real enough - the snake sword extending and retracting smoothly on her command. Ivy took a few tesPost too long. Click here to view the full text.


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I'd like to see some MK girls abused by SC guys/girls


The day she was cut in half

The warehouse was pretty dark. None of the lights were on, only the dusty, cobwebbed skylights let in the reflected shine of the city, from low hanging, looming clouds. Like a dirty yellow blanket.

It was enough light for a young woman to tiptoe her way through the aisles, between racks and stacks of palettes, almost up to the ceiling.

She was alone. There would have been no need to tiptoe, but any sound echoed eerily in the large building and the reason she was here in the first place, at night and without light, brought with it a certain amount of healthy paranoia.

The warehouse was used as a drop-off point for various smuggled goods. And if the police were to catch her with the stash she was about to retrieve, she'd face a very unpleasant interrogation, while corrupt officers were trying shady methods to find out who had sent her, who she'd bring it to, and other questions that, if she answered truthfully would shorten her life considerably. If she didn't she'd rot in jail.

None of that would matter on this fateful day. There were no police, and she would in fact never have to worry about hitmen nor jail, but she didn't know that yet. She counted the aisles, then went down one of them counting racks.

She stopped in front of a large stack of rusty metal cages, each of which held plastic barrels with symbols and letters on them. It was not the stack in front of which she should have stopped. The goods she had come for waited savely on a shelf, one aisle further down. But that, too she didn't know.

The cages were mostly open. They were stackable, if you had a forklift, and seemingly gave enough room for footrest to climb on them. She started climbing.

She was three cages up, when the stack of cages when fate tried one final time to warn her. A shrieking metal creak sounded from below, as the imbalanced and overloaded metal protested, weakened already by age and rust.

She stopped, panting. Her legs felt a bit wobbly, and she felt her breasts brush against her shirt with every labored breath. Her fingers tingled, cramped to give her hold on the rusty metal. And for some reason she felt horny. Her pussy had been urging for a while. Her labia were slightly swollen and pressed into her panties, already soaked. The thrill of the illegal often made her a little bit aroused, but climbing this stack pulled her jeans tight against her nPost too long. Click here to view the full text.
3 posts omitted. Click reply to view.


Great story.


Wow!! That was amazing!! As always...!!


That would be cool. I totally agree, unfortunately I can't draw. If you find ( or are ) an artist willing to illustrate this, I'm all for it! :-)


We all went me to do it irl? Steaming video shit that be great


Bump to save from faggot spammer


Setsuka bit back a moan as she played with herself, one hand cupping her large breasts, the other kneading her sopping pussy. Her kimono fanned out around her, her sheer purple top stretched over the top of sizeable bosom for easier access to her alabaster titflesh, and her white panties pulled to the side to reveal her shaven pussy. The reason for her excitement slept soundly on his back a few feet below her perch on the barn loft - Heishiro Mitsurugi, the man that had slain her master. And now, the blonde swordmistress would secure her revenge with her own hand - after it finished its current business, of course. Setsuka's arousal grew as she fantasized about what would transpire in a few minutes. It had been easy to track him to this abandoned barn in the desolate wasteland of Soul Edge's influence - a trail of destruction followed the samurai. It would be just as easy to finally destroy him, Setsuka thought to herself as she tweaked her stiff nipples. She'd jump down while he was still asleep, and take his head. Not a fair fight - but there was no point in fairness in taking revenge on the man that must have cheated in order to slay her master, who had taught her everything she knew about swordsmanship.

After that bloody work, Setsuka imagined as her elegant fingers eagerly worked her dripping cunt tunnel, she'd get herself off with his severed head - rubbing her pussy all over her trophy until it glistened with her honey. It was only fair, after what had happened the last time they fought. Setsuka's pleasure-slick vagina pulsed as she remembered the humiliation - her sword knocked away, being forced to her knees with his blade at her neck, the feeling of him using her long blond hair as a leash, the taste of his cock in her mouth, and the feeling of his seed raining down on her face and cleavage. He had left her lying on the ground after claiming the spoils of victory, his jizz painting her body and the kimono that her master had gifted her. Shame had filled Setsuka as her fingers had pushed into her panties to slip into her inflamed pussy as she lay defeated, bringing herself to squirting orgasm as she fantasized that it was her master's cock that she had worshipped, her master's seed that she was scooping off her tits in order to lick clean, her master that had overcome her and taken what he wanted from her body, not the man that had slain him.

Yes... it was only fair that she return the favor, Setsuka thought to herself as shPost too long. Click here to view the full text.


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