Alright. Here's the first part of the next Snuff-O-Gram story. As usual no knowledge of Doctor Who is needed to enjoy this story, but if you want to you can look up the actresses who play the parts (Karen Gillan, Pearl Mackie, and Stephanie Hyam) and imagine them acting out the story.

Amy Pond: Alien Space Slave Snuff-O-Gram
Tags: Doctor Who, F/F, Oral, F/F/F, Fingering, Willing, Dominant and Submissive, Roleplay, Dissection, "Xenophilia", Cannibalism, Prostitution, Snuff

Amy Pond always wanted to be snuffed, so when she reports as a Sexy Green-Skinned Alien Snuff-O-Gram to Heather's dorm room for her girlfriend Bill's birthday, she gets exactly what she asked for.

__________________

Amy Pond approached what was definitely a college dorm somewhat nervously. She was drawing heads in a way she never had before in her life and underneath the imitation Princess Leia slave Bikini she was wearing, she was absolutely soaking wet from that fact.

Today was her first time being ordered from her company's “special service” catalogue. If all went well, it would also be her last.

Amy shivered as a stiff breeze blew up the amalgam of cloth and metal she was wearing that passed for clothing, brushing past her exposed and inflamed nethers, as well as in between the mostly metal and enamel bra and her puffy currently darker green nipples.

That was the hardest part of this order of course. Not what was waiting in store for her, she hadn't done that yet but she was definitely looking forward to that part. No, the hardest part was soaking for all of last night in a tub full of green food coloring. It probably wouldn't be good for her long term health, but she wasn't exactly worried about that anymore. More importantly, it would be fine in the short term, even edible! And it would stay on until the end of her work today, at the very least.

Now the only part of her not dyed some shade of green was her lustrous red hair, so it made sense that she was drawing gazes, both male and female, as she walked across the university campus as a green-skinned redhead in a metal slave bikini. She was certainly eye catching.

It took Amy almost 10 minutes to find the dorm she was looking for, the dorm whose resident had payed the frankly sort of exorbitant price to order her from the “special service” catalogue her Kiss-O-Gram agency put out. She had to check her instructions again just to mPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

"No one can hide from my sight..." Widowmaker breathily moaned to herself as she gazed through the scope, eyeing her target. The Talon assassin was perched on a balcony high up a skyscraper, long-rifle mounted on a tripod and aimed at the plaza below. The right moment hadn't yet come to pull the trigger, perhaps because Widowmaker's long slender fingers weren't even on the trigger. Rather, the digits responsible for ending the lives of so many were busy pleasuring their mistress - one hand groping her pert breasts, the other working her slippery slot. The only sound on the balcony was Widowmaker's coos of pleasure, the thrill of the impending kill pulsing through her as she played with herself on all fours, shapely round ass raised in the air while swaying to and fro.

The assassin's normally haughty, emotionless face flushed as she felt her climax coming - a climax that once subsided, would mean the end of her target. This was the only time she could feel emotion - from the thrill of being an apex predator claiming its prey. Her fingers furiously worked her oozing cunny as the pleasure intensified.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?!"

Widowmaker's head snapped around as a shout from behind her interrupted her ministrations. Her elegant face twisted into a scowl. A fat security guard stood there, no doubt some useless desk jockey hired by the building she had broken into. He held a flashlight in his hand, the beam falling square on Widowmaker's lovely ass.

The assassin snarled and cursed in French, furious at being interrupted from her impending orgasm by this worthless waste of meat. She briefly considered finishing up before finishing him, but decided to instead zip up her bodysuit and dispose of the intruder, not wanting him to glimpse any more of her lithe body than he had already seen.

That brief moment of hesitation cost her. She had intended to jump up and bury a Venom mine in the man's face, but as Widowmaker leapt into the air the security guard had already launched into a lumbering desperation charge to tackle her. The result was the guard's meaty shoulder lowering straight into Widowmaker's gut as she was airborne. Her grunt of surprise was quickly interrupted by a shriek of pain, as the momentum carried the pair straight into the balcony railing - Widowmaker taking the brunt of the impact. Her slender form was wracked with pained wheezing as the air was knocked out of her, her Venom Mine Post too long. Click here to view the full text.

(A thread of stories that take place in the savage land of Vaniria. If there is interest in this story, I’ll post more. Feedback also appreciated.)

Ambush at Icefall Pass

(gory combat, blood, piss)

The shieldmaiden glimpsed her opponent through the snow drifts.

The warrior, clad in mail and fur, stood amidst the bodies of her fallen comrades. Underneath the half-helm, baleful blue eyes glowered at Enyara from across the field. “You will pay for the blood you’ve spilled!”

Enyara exhaled from exhaustion. “I’ve killed five of you already. Let’s call it a day.”

“No,” said the warrior. She drew two hand axes from her belt and brandished the broad shafts in her grip. “Blood pays for blood. Prepare to die.”

“So much for diplomacy.” Enyara brushed an orange curl from in front of her eyes and squared up to face her opponent. Her blade was slick with blood and her shield battered, to say nothing of her body. A red cut glistened wetly on her left arm and she felt the bruises on her other arm and chest whenever she moved.

She glanced around at the battlefield. Slaughter was a word too inadequate to describe what had taken place. There was not an empty patch of snow anywhere to be found. Bodies, battered weapons and broken shields lay scattered about across the icy plain, juxtaposed or heaped together in haphazard piles. Neither side had come away the victor. Towards the end, she had begun to slay whoever had come at her, unable to tell the difference between friend or foe.

Her last opponent stalked through the snow. The mail hauberk she wore was splattered with blood and the axes she hefted dripped with gore. She moved, like a predator, and Enyara was the prey.

The redhead raised her shield and pressed forward. She kept a close eye on her enemy over the rim of her shield and pivoted her body to meet the warrior. The woman moved with a swiftness that dismayed her, darting and ducking from her swings. Enyara thrusted her blade forward and the enemy caught it on the edge of her axeheads. Her sword was wrenched from her, her shield pulled down by the twin axes and a sharp kick planted her on her ass. The impact knocked the wind out of her and she fell on her back to stare up at the white sky.

Her strength failed her. Her muscles refused to budge. She could only watch as the rival warrior loomed over her, a phantom of death, covering her wiPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

I'm absolutely uncertain how this hasn't been made yet. But I'm writing this as a sort of break from trying to come up with stuff for Tor, or Bottom. It's actually been really relaxing.

Anyway, this is a story based on the first Dark Souls game, I would have made one for Demon Souls first but I was never able to get my hands on any sort of Play Station. This wouldn't have been posted here at all as I feel it's in need of some heavy editing, but I decided to do so anyway as the game's remake is cominf out soon.

Needless to say, there WILL be spoilers and opinion based lore translations either based on my own interpretation or made for the purpose of writing this character. Please let me know what you think and drop any suggestions you have as a comment, as with most writers I love to know what the people who read what I've written thing of it.

***

Escaping the Asylum. (Gore, death, no sex, zombie)

I remember the first time I died. The moment was hardly special, some Cleric Lord had been coming too quickly down the street as I turned the corner, I don’t even think he stopped. I remember staring up at the sky and wondering how I had ended up on the ground, trying to sit up only to realise the arm I was trying to push myself up with was no longer there. I cannot remember turning my head, but I remember seeing my arm laying on the street along with the lower half of my body. It was surreal then, I don’t think that I formed a single coherent thought that entire time my consciousness was fading, though I do remember the pain flaring back to the surface near the end, pushing through the shock my mind and body been forced into.

I don’t remember waking up after that, though I feel it must have been days later given the state of my body. They probably killed me again as soon as they noticed the Darksign emblazoned in me, packed me in a cart with the rest of the undead and carted me away to the asylum like I’ve seen done hundreds of times before. For some reason i never thought it would be me in that cart, in hind sight I doubt many do.

But now here I am, a rotted husk left to continue rotting in this cell. I spent some time exploring it when I was first left here. I don’t know if I was trying to find a way out or something to eat aside from these undead rats or anything really. But I did find this sword, broken and rusted as it is, barely more than a handle now, but it feels comforting in mPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

My very first story! I hope it's good ^^

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"Nanette!"

The short plump girl turned her head, smiling at her new friend bouncing up and down with excitement.

"Aria! What is it?"

"The exhibition! They've posted the sign-up list on the board! Come on!"

Nanette let her friend pull her by the wrist towards the school news board.

She'd only recently transitioned into this private girls-only boarding school after her aunt finally won custody of her from the state after both her parents had their parenting rights taken away. She frankly didn't care who was going to 'officially' take care of her, having spent her entire life in one establishment or another; this particular school had a reputation for being weird, though, and she was looking forward to finding out what would happen.

"What exhibition?", she whispered in her friend's ear as they entered the massive crowd in the corridor where the board was. Clearly Aria wasn't the only one excited for the upcoming event.

"Oh, you don't know?", - giddiness in the girl's voice suggested she was more than happy to tell her new friend ALL ABOUT this. - "It's a twice-yearly event! There's an exhibition of torture devices and execution methods from around the world. They have a huge pool, and they randomly select several every time! They post the list on the board, and students sign up for auditions! The torture devices are real, too, and used for real, and execution methods are usualy not!"

"Usually?..." - Nanette's voice jumped up and down, reflecting her surprise at the information. That people would volunteer to have torture devices demonstrated on them was weird enough... although she was admittedly curious to participate herself.

But - would they actually for real kill their students? The school DID have a weird reputation - Nanette's aunt needed quite a bit of convincing to let the girl choose it for herself...

"Well, yeah! They randomly, again, choose one exhibit every half-year to be real. Students who audition for that one are warned, and then forbidden to tell anyone! If someone tells, they do a complete shuffle of all the roles and choose another exhibit to be real that time!"

"Shuffle all the roles?..."

"Well, yeah! I mean, they have someone else to warn their exhibit is going to be lethal, and they can agree or refuse all over again, and they can't let it slip what it's going to be, so they have to changPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

Anyone has the full version of this story saved? I managed to find a copy of it on wattpad(for some reason), but it was incomplete and seemed to have really poor english.

The girl opened the door to the basement and peered in. She reached to her side and flicked on the lights, illuminating the room. The room was cold, and the bare cement walls were a spotless dull gray. The room was almost clinical with no decorations or improvements, just emotionless gray cement. It was identical to the pictures the man had shown her.

The only furniture in the room was a line of chairs down the left wall and a sink against the back wall. There was also a small drain a few feet in front of the sink. Next to the sink and in the middle of the right wall were two large, expensive-looking cameras with microphones mounted on top. There was also a camera hanging down from the ceiling.

Of course, there was one more piece of furniture, if you could call it that. A large guillotine sat in the center of the room, strikingly out of place in the otherwise un-noteworthy room. The lunette faced the back of the room, placed just above the drain in the floor, and the blade rested against it, missing a rope to hold it up. A thick layer of dust covered the guillotine, but otherwise it was in perfect condition, just as the man had said.

At the imposing sight of the guillotine, the girl's legs went weak and she felt herself getting wet. She took a deep breath and stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. She was carrying a large bag, filled to the brim, which she set on one of the chairs. She opened the zipper and fished around for a minute before finding what she wanted.

She pulled out two vibrating dildos and a pack of batteries. The girl quickly put the batteries in the dildos and switched them on. After making sure they worked, she turned the off and placed them on the guillotine. Then she moved in front of the camera.

She faced the camera and began to slowly strip, putting on a show. She was short, with a petite body and small tits. Her hair was a light brown and came down to her shoulders. As she pulled off her shirt, showing her tits to the camera, she smiled. She knew the man was watching right now, somewhere else in the house. After removing everything but her panties, she stopped and kneeled in front of the camera.

The girl grabbed the dildos, one in each hand, and began to lick them. She alternated between the two, and while she licked one dildo, she seductively rubbed the other on her nipples or crotch. Soon they were covered in her saliva, and she moved on to sucking them. She started withPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

A Thousand Worlds of Despair: Crimson Comfort

(gg, oral, rimming, mercy killing)

Rika Furude sat on the floor of the house that she shared with Satoko Houjou, her fellow resident’s blond haired head resting on Rika’s lap. Satoko was dressed in her green pyjama top and pants, while Rika was dressed in her pink nightdress. It was a few days after the deaths of their fellow club members and Rika had spent the intervening time desperately trying to comfort Satoko. But as was usual in this infinite cycle of sorrow, her efforts were in completely in vain. Satoko’s broken sobs were only quietened when the girl was so exhausted that she had no choice but to slip into broken sleep.

For her part, Rika had shed no tears for her friends. She was far too used to their deaths to feel anything but exhaustion anymore, but seeing Satoko so hurt always managed to stab her in the last remaining part of her soul that could still feel. At least Satoko’s wouldn’t be in pain for much longer...

Today was the end stage of this scenario, the night of their deaths. Countless times Rika had tried to at least save Satoko in this scenario, but her efforts were always in vain. Whoever was so determined to kill Rika did not let Satoko escape. Of course, that was only the few times that she could convince Satoko to make a run for it. Usually Satoko would refuse to flee, sanding with Rika in solidarity, facing certain death with a bravery she did not feel.

Any world where Keiichi fell prey to the Syndrome’s final stage was a futile world, where no other actions could possibly bring any change to her cursed existence, Rika’s irrational clinging to a cursed life only causing her and her friends agony after agony. With a sigh she looked at the tear streaked sleeping face of her friend, again doubting the course of action that she had decided on after receiving news of the others’ deaths.

Hanyuu’s voice was silent, Rika having drunk enough to cause the spirit linked to her soul to pass out. It had been necessary as Hanyuu would surely object incessantly to her plan. What she planned to do was monstrous, but it was hardly worse than doing nothing and letting Satoko suffer further. If she could not save her friend, she could at least try to minimize her pain. Trying to act resolutely, she leaned down with her blue haired head and started to lick the other girl’s face, tasting the salty tear tracks with her pink tongue.

The sensation woke Satoko, wPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

This is going to be a loong story I've written together with Blau Sturm. The idea originated from him, but we figured the whole story out together after I watched Nanoha. There are at least two more parts coming. Any feedback or comments are appreciated :)

Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha SnufferS

Episode One

It wasn’t that unusual for the mages gathered in the room to meet together – they all worked in the same unit, after all. Nanoha Takamachi and Fate Testarossa-Harlaown were bundled against each other on a couch, the pair radiating love onto all the others in the room as they cuddled. Signum and Shamal were both sitting on a opposite ends of a couch, with space left in between them. Subaru Nakajima and Teana Lanster were holding hands as the two younger girls sat on a pair of chairs extremely close to each other. Most of the mages in the room were wearing their official Riot Force 6 uniform – a brown jacket over a white shirt, a brown skirt and thighs of various length. Nanoha was wearing her Air Force instructor uniform instead – her jacket was white, her skirt blue, and a black belt was holding it together at her waist. All of them were now tightly watching the screens in the room, which were showing their commander, Hayate Yagami. The officially dressed woman was now standing on a platform raised in some conference room she rented just for this event.

Hayate watched the clock in the main conference room. As soon as it hit the full hour, she activated her microphone and began speaking:

“Hello everybody! My name is Yagami Hayate, the chief of the 6th Mobile Division of the Administrative Bureau.” She stopped for a moment to let the applause die out. “Today I’m here to announce a change in the Bureau’s policy. More details will be available afterwards, but the main idea was to reduce the amount of mages in active duty.” The gathered people started talking now, so Hayate spoke louder: “And to show my full compliance and support of the policy, I decided to start it off with a few executions of some of my unit’s mages!” Hayate enthusiastically finished speaking, and let the commotion in the room sort itself out as she headed backstage.



She was a bit disappointed by the reaction to her words. Fate and Nanoha continued their cuddling on their sofa while Signum stayed motionless on her couch. Shamal seemed a bit concerned, but only Subaru and Teana looked rPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

So a while back I traded with Aoi Hikari for a story based off my Idea of Hogwarts having it's own girlmeat catalogue. That story can be found here: >>7556. Proofreading and editing Aoi's story inspired me to write my own version. Some if the initial catalogue spreads are the same (though usually heavily edited) from Aoi's story. These are taken with permission based off my initial descriptions for the trade, but the story itself is vastly different though based off of a similar concept.

Hermoine Browses for Girlmeat (Harry Potter, F/F, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Cons, Snuff, Exhib, Cannibalism, F/Self)

PART 1

Hermione shifted on the seat in the common room. It almost felt like there was something lumpy beneath her.

Reaching down beneath the cushion, Hermione felt around until her fingers scraped a book. No, not a book... A magazine! Curiously, Hermione pulled it out.

“What is this? A girly magazine?” Hermione asked aloud as the picture of a nude 5th year girl she didn't know strutted and posed across the front cover. “No, wait, that's not it...” She continued, looking at the title of the book. “'Hogwarts Meatgirl Catalogue'? What the..?”

Now that Hermione took a closer look, the girl photographed on the cover was in the Hogwarts Kitchen, surrounded by cooking supplies.
“That's...” Feeling nervous and guilty, but even more curious, Hermione opened the magazine, flipping to a random page. Surprisingly, the girl inside the magazine wasn't nude, though she was posing very provocatively next to a campfire. Hermione flipped to the next page, and then the next. On each full page spread there was a moving picture of a girl on one page and some text on the other with the girl’s name and price and presumably the reasons they wanted to sell themselves for meat.

“The wizarding world... eats girls? This can't be real... Who even put this together?” Hermoine muttered to herself as she flipped through. Despite the eroticism of the nudity on display, each of the girls on the pictures was clearly trying to sell herself as food first, and sexual object second; with each and every girl posing at a kitchen or a dining room and with objects like knifes and cauldrons.

“This has to be a joke...” Hermione muttered to herself, as she flipped through it. Suddenly, she stopped, staring.

The picture in front of her occupied both pagesPost too long. Click here to view the full text.