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This is more a script than a story, for a possible drawings sequence that one day someone could realize.


A group of three male soldiers and a female soldier patrols on the streets.
Two young female girls crossed their line and they recognized them as enemy recruits.
They were dressed in thight, olive green t-shirts cropped just below their breasts and khaki shorts low on their hips, leaving the whole belly naked and exposed. A pair of military boots and an army cap complete the garments. Their military clothes showed the group of experienced soldiers, that this two girls weren't professional soldiers yet.
The Soldiers watched the two young girls closely to recognize every movement of them. On of the soldiers said unhappy: "They are so young. It's a shame to waste such sexy bodies."
"I know, but they are old enough to take arms against us. They are indeed enemies. said the woman and the soldier, who had spoken at first thought, that her comrade was ready to kill the two girls already.
The Asian soldier announce loudly that the woman was right and she wished more of them got killed. So the woman say that they have no other choice but to kill the girls. She then call for an officer to direct the execution process (there is a military protocol for that). Then arrives the female officer and she states (like reading a death warrant) that the girls are found accomplice to rebellion and therefore are to be considered enemies of the state, and shall immediately executed with a bayonet in the naked belly, since int is the execution protocol fitted for enemy girl recruits wearing such garments.
The blonde-haired girl began to cry and begged for her life: "Oh, no please, I don't want to die. I promise to become a good girl!"
The officer come close to her, hugging her by the side with one arm around the shoulder, and reply "I'm sorry dear, but you two have choose the wrong side, therefore is my duty to assure these naked, youthful rebel bellies of yours get what they deserve" and she pressed a finger in the girl navel like imitating a bayonet.
While two soldiers are each tying one girls hands behind her bare backs, the man and the woman talk each one to the victim they are going to pierce. The whole platoon know the girls deserve such fate, but they still remain polite with them. The woman say to the blonde to be brave, to take it like a woman and she suggest her to thrust forwPost too long. Click here to view the full text.


I would like to specify that I'm not against Vietnamese girls. I find Asian girls among the most sexy in the world.


The constant breeze was humid and warm, felt almost alive. It was too dark to see, but and the way it touched the more sensitive areas of her body made Libby realize that she had been stripped naked. Very slowly, her eyes started to adapt to the gloom.
Libby felt dizzy. She tried to stay calm, to figure out where exactly she was: Near the wall of a large, circular chamber with weak lighting she now started to perceive as bluish green.
Only it was no chamber: Every surface was glistening like wet skin, translucent even at some places, and fine veins seemed to cover everything. Inspecting the ceiling was like looking at a giant mushroom's head from below, lamellae spanning from the outer walls to the center, where things that looked like large eggs lined the slimy ground.
And everything seemed to be breathing somehow, moving in a slow rhythm, like a giant organism.
While all of this was disturbing, it played but the smallest role in Libby's discomfort.

The actual horror emerged from the sight of all the other women and girls around her, arranged in a large circle along the wall. Even with her 24 years, most of them looked younger to her, and none much older. All of them were naked, their arms and legs held in place by some kind of tentacles that seemed to grow from the organic walls of their prison.
Some were moaning, some sobbing, the tears of some running in silent fear. Most were still unconscious, though. Libby counted about two dozen.

All she could move was her head. She felt the warm, slippery wall touching her back as well as the tentacles that bound her arms and legs to it in a degrading manner. And while Libby’s sense of touch seemed fine, her ability to move was not. The tentacles holding her in place seemed weak enough for her to rip free, but when she tried to do just that, her limbs only answered with a slight tingling sensation. The women weren't just bound to the wall. They were being held in place, their limbs paralyzed. The realization made her feel even more violated.


Only when that voice broke it, Libby realized how pressing the silence had been.
"Yes, I hear you". What else should she say? She looked towards where the voice came from, directly to her left, but the tentacles and bumps in the wall between them made it impossible to see the other girl's face. The only thing for Libby to see were the pink-nippled tips of her breasts. C-Cups, about the size of Post too long. Click here to view the full text.
11 posts omitted. Click reply to view.


Those breasts are going to get her killed, she ought to take them off somehow ;)


This is completely and utterly fantastic. It hit all of my buttons, specially the alien rape. Thank you!


No new chapter this time, but people who are interested in The Hive might still wanna read this. It's mainly about the writing process and what you can expect in the future.

First of all some Publication Info: I'm currently posting this story on Gurochan, TheDarkSpot and Hentaifoundry. The Hentaifoundry version is the one that deals best with my formatting, so I recommend reading it over here if you don't already: http://www.hentai-foundry.com/stories/user/eddyboy/25730/The-Hive-A-Duke-Nukem-Horror-Story

I will continue posting on all three of course, at least for the foreseeable future.

Something that I realized again and again while writing this story is that it's not a simple thing to find the middle road between your typical one-off snuff-story and your average (maybe even politically correct) let's-see-how-the-hero-wins-narrative.
I don't want you, the reader, to just wait and find out what gruesome end I have in store for my main heroine(s). Because I haven't got any. Neither do I have any concrete plan on how Libby is going to save the day (and herself). What I do have is some vague major plot ideas that are roaming around in my mind, waiting for the right time to be written down.
And here's the thing: I don't have any idea WHEN and IF that right time will come. Because while the situations the characters run into originate from my mind, I let DICE decide the outcome of most aspects, meaning I don't know how each chapter will end myself. I am using a simplified version of your average RPG Ruleset that contains Fitness, Strength, Mind, Morale and Luck.

Fitness determines how much stamina characters have and how agile they are. It helps when fleeing and hiding from enemies, reaction speed and how long they can withstand physically stressing situations (which in this story can and will include sexual violence) before passing out or dying.

Strength determines how strong they are (yes, really), helping them escape once they are cought, free alien victims, use weaponry and take hard, but non-sustained damage before passing out or dying.

Mind generally helps them to avoid danger altogether, to come up with ideas to fight back and with getting out of sticky situations using trickery. In the case of our current protagonist Libby for example, thPost too long. Click here to view the full text.


huh. could have sworn i posted chapter 9 here. incoming.


Chapter 9: Walkürenritt

"Join the EDF", they'd said.

Melanie returned fire over the roof of the Jeep she was hunkering behind.

"Just go for the five years. The pay is great, and after five years of obstacle courses and boredom, you have a great monetary basis to start the rest of your life. And the aliens won't be coming back, so there's basically no risk at all".

A hot load of plasma missed Melanie's head by less than 30cm and burned a smoldering hole in the concrete wall behind her. 'Scheiße. Yeah, no risk at all, you smartasses'. The streets of Los Angeles, brimming with life and diversity not even a day ago, were a desolation of chaos, fire and death. The fancy sports cars that had been cruising the streets were now burning wrecks blocking the way. Melanie had been into fast cars what seemed a lifetime ago. A few hours ago. Now, she was all into the big, bulky, ugly cars, busses and trucks. Those were wrecks too, but these wrecks offered cover. Another shot hit the Jeep she was leaning against and echoed through the empty streets. Between the wreckage, corpses were strewn across the ground. All of them were either elderly people, children or men. Just as with the first invasion, there was no sign of females of Melanie's age. During that first invasion, Melanie had been only seven, but she had never seen her big sister again, who had been abroad in the US at the time. Just like she was now. Best not dwell on it. 'Focus'. This was combat. This was what she was here for.

To her left, Sergeant Sebab gave the sign she was waiting for, the command to move into a flanking position. It was a shit job, but someone had to do it. And in this particular case, that someone was Corporal Melanie Höltens. 'Come on, Melanie, you've trained for this'. Though they say you that can train all you want, that you'll never see if you're up to snuff before you've seen real combat. This was her finding out. Covering fire came and Melanie sprinted to the next cover, a hastily abandoned delivery truck. From there, she continued on, her helmeted head down, as another load of hot plasma shot over it. Out of the corner of her eye Melanie witnessed the assault commander that had sent it her way drop from a direct hit by her squad's covering fire. A feeling of triumph, further fueled by adrenaline, swept over her as she lept behind another large Jeep and unleashed hell upon the alien commander's two remaining, now flanked compaPost too long. Click here to view the full text.


She lies supine on the preparation table, naked if courae, as I ready my various instruments in anticipation of the feast ahead.

Her closed eyelids barely flutter as I part her shapely slim legs. The drug-induced coma a necessary act of mercy for the acts that would befall her lovely body.

I trace my fingers down her mons, and part her shaven nether lips to reveal her sensitive nub hidden under it's protective hood, which will soon be powerless to my assault.

I pleasure that clit with my tongue and collect the juices that flow out into a sauce dish. When fully engorged and out of the protection of the clitorial hood, a pair of fine lacquered chopsticks hold on to that nub of female flesh, readying it to yield to the kiss of stainless steel.

With the sharpest blade in the kitchen, the clitoris comes off, hood and all. A quick dip into the dish of love juices, and then placed on my tongue.

As I close my mouth around the severed clitoris, I savor the explosion of flavors that ignite my tastebuds. I keep the clit in my mouth, grateful for the experience of holding in my mouth what used to be a comely woman's most treasured part, and now sitting on my tongue and destined to be devoured.

With the dying clit deflated and dry of all further flavors, it is nothing more than a morsel of meat: to be chewed up and ground by my teeth.

A quick swallow.

And it's perhaps tragically anti-climatic that one could hardly feel the remains of a battered piece of female sex going down one's throat.

But other delights await...

I turn my gaze to the inner lips and run my fingers over the slick secretion coated surface. I marvel at the velvety texture that is the side leading into a woman's sex. Holding a lip between my fingers, I reach for the same knife and proceed to part the flap of flesh from the vagina in an unhurried manner.

There is no need to rush. On the contrary, this rare opportunity to consume intimate flesh should be savoured, every millisecond of it.

The first lip - the left one - goes on a bed of rice, dipped into the dish of pussy juices and fed to my waiting mouth. A shame that the lip proves a little rubbery, requiring a fair bit of concerted chewing before it is ready to be swallowed.

The right lip is better. Once parted from the fillet, I bring out my sharpest blade and make fishbone cuts on the soft pink side of the lPost too long. Click here to view the full text.
3 posts omitted. Click reply to view.


A wonderful fantasy! I was hoping for some mention of her urethra, though. That's my favorite part to tease when eating pussy IRL. Not complaining.


Very beautiful. I can think of no more to say.


Wow I loved this! There are way too few cannibalism stories that delight in the actual details. It is usually a huge build up, and then they gloss over the eating part.

Have your protagonist eat a dick next ;)


She should be crying and begging as her fuckhole and tits are cut from her. No fun like this.


How about her bladder? Just right above her uterus. It is terrible thing to waste.



 "So, if you'll follow me, I'll be explaining your new duties and responsibilities as I take you on a brief tour of the mansion and surrounding grounds." Elaine instructed, motioning the new girl to fall in beside her as she began walking.

 "You'll start out doing the most unpleasant chores, unfortunately. Sweeping and mopping the floors, cleaning the bathrooms, and other things of a similarly menial nature." the head maid said, as she led the way into the grand house. "The Mistress absolutely abhors dirt and dust, so you'll need to be very diligent in completing your tasks. Please believe me when I tell you that she WILL notice if you shirk."

 "Yes, ma'am." Citrie answered promptly, as she took in the lavishly appointed entrance hall, her mouth slightly open in amazement at the wealth she beheld there.

 "Now, now, there's no need to be so formal with me. I prefer that all we staff members refer to each other on a first name basis. The camaraderie helps us bond and fulfill our duties to our Mistress more effectively, I believe." Elaine said, while smiling genially at the young woman, who was really scarcely more than a girl, and who was also now the newest member of the household.

 "The Mistress, however, is another matter entirely. Failure to show her the respect due her station will quickly lead to a punishment session in the dungeons. Mistress loves to break in new girls like you by binding them to the rack and then switching their bare bottoms a few dozen times, until they're pleading and crying for mercy. She's always looking a reason to do it to any of us, in fact. So, don't give her a reason if you want your bottom to stay unmarked."

 "Um, y-yes, ma'am.. uh, I mean, yes, Elaine." Citrie replied, gulping a little and flushing at the thought of being so punished.

 "And, if you're the kind of girl who likes that sort of thing, which most of us do, at least a little bit, I'll admit, then she'll find some other devious method of punishment, one even more painful than the switch, which I promise you will not enjoy."

 "No, m.. E-Elaine." the girl said, her flush deepening even further.

 "Now, feel free to ask me any questions as we walk. There is a lot to learn, after all."

 "Um, well, I have been wondering about one thing.." Citrie began, as she peered around the opulent and rich entrance halPost too long. Click here to view the full text.


You're the best.



Thank You.


This will be a collection of drowning stories written by me. I will post the first one soon. Tags will be posted with each story.


A Prime Target
Loli, Drowning, Watersports
Here it is, the first one. Hope you like it.

 The assassin Vera slowly stalked towards the manor’s perimeter. Her target was somewhere inside. “This is too easy,” she scoffed. She had been assigned the task of breaking into this manor, and murdering the family’s youngest daughter. The reasons weren’t important to her, but if she had to wager a guess, this was someone’s plan to put some rich doucebag in their place.

 Walking up to the manor’s wall, she scaled the stone barrier, mounting it and getting a look at the interior. She immediately spotted her target; a young girl, no more than 11 years old. She stood close to a window, her naked body exposed to the outside world. She appeared to be preparing for a bath.

 “Perfect,” Vera whispered to herself, dropping into the courtyard. She quickly closed the distance between herself and the window. She proceeded to watch in secret as the little girl ran some hot water for her bath. Vera got a good look at her features. Her skin was pale and smooth, with breasts as small as you would expect someone of her age. Her auburn hair was cut short, and had a remarkable sheen, shining in the bathroom lights. Her cheeks were rosy and merry, with a smile adorning her face as she waited for the tub to fill. All in all, a beautiful child any parent would be proud of. Vera almost felt sorry for the kid.


 She watched the girl lower herself into the bath, submerging most of her body in the steamy water. The water stopped at her neckline as she reclined, relaxing herself as she soaked. With her eyes closed and her face filled with bliss, she looked as though she was sleeping.

 Vera took out her trusty lockpick, using it to undo the window latch. It open with a soft click, but it was enough to get the girl’s attention. Her upper body lifted out of the tub, looking to see what had made the sudden noise. The assassin knew she had to act fast. In the blink of an eye, she launched herself through the open window, and was immediately upon her target. The next thing the little girl knew, she was staring up at a mysterious woman’s face through a hazy film of water. And she couldn’t breathe.

 Vera knelt beside the bath, using just one hand to hold the girl below the surface. Her hand was now nestled comfortably between the kid’s prepubescent breast, pressed against her beatiPost too long. Click here to view the full text.


I discovered a bunch of Chinese death related guro stories and was translating them but backup failed, depression set in and only now mustered enough to get back at it.

I hope to one day be able to support myself with translations so any comments and suggestion is highly appreciated.
Dovakiin Simple Meal

Tatatata. Metallic heels taps Lord of Falkreath's longhouse floor, that is a pair of golden high heels, pure gold pair of sky high heels, the better to let the woman wearing look taller, but even so, it's owner is a small lovely person.

The guard swallows; even if carrying a magic totem with the emblem sun's golden ring floating in mid air, the brightened back and shoulder blades can be completely seen, the oiled skin and the white dragon tattoo and unique dragon words gives this prettiness an added mystique.

Connecting to the totem are two hanging blue drape accessories giving the back view only blue and the girl's white buttocks, plump thighs, and a pair of tied hands.

Those small white green onion like fingers seems to purposefully teasing the guards behind, occasionally massaging those soft buttocks, the bouncy skin, seducing the loyal guards making them imagine pinching that meaty rear.

That fluffy soft gold tinged hairy tail swishes left and right hiding and showing the butt.

And those who look from the front would be worse off.

Gold hair with two braids tied in front, a pair of fox ears popping out of the hair, a small round face with loli characteristics, and a young girl's maturity, the mouth corners creating a enticing faint smile and her ruby eyes make this delicate face a delight to view.

More captivating is her body, though of petite height but it is a fully ripe unshameful fruit , you can even say a body bursting with hormones.

This figure doesn't hide, although wearing a boot, but the leg ring with gold lace to the high heel boot doesn't cover anything, the gold bracer with white lace has similar accessory affect.

Her pair of bountiful breast flesh, seemingly capable of squeezing out at anytime milk stream, but on the areola are glued only two silver open discs, the erect pink peaches emerging from the center hole secures the discs.

From each nipples' base is a gold chain connecting to the material that hides her private - one long string of gold beads hiding her mound;Post too long. Click here to view the full text.


Oh I forgot to give credit.

It's written by 永夜者, he is currently writing a r15 book with similar themes involving Dark Souls and some anime. Occasionally he'd write r-18 stories, some independent, Fallout, and a few on his Dark Soul series. He has a bunch of stories I plan on translating first then eventually other authors.

I did receive his permission to translate.

I need to proof read more, only after posting and reading did I find some stuff I missed when I proof read in text note.


I love this story. It's so unabashedly pornographic, with every other sentence sexualizing the main girl and using fun words to describe her body.

I also have a thing for consensual, and a thing for super-powerful heroines meeting their makers.

I'd love to see more translations--this author writes right up my alley.


agreed. Please do fallout, I've never read fallout guro before


From the farthest reaches of my mind, I heard a woman scream.

I shook my head from side to side and drug my consciousness back into the current moment. Heather looked confused and asked me if I was okay.

"Yeah, I'm fine, perfectly fine," I said as I wondered the same thing myself. "Are you ready to order?"

She smiled her crooked, wide smile and nodded eagerly. I thought to myself, "God, I love this girl. So why am I having such graphic visions of destroying her?"

The doctor called them "intrusive thoughts" and said they were common among people with severe depression. I think they make me a bastard, but he assured me that they weren't a slight against my character, or evidence that I lacked a moral compass. I still think otherwise.

Heather and I have been dating for four years, and we're supposed to be getting married in the fall. This thought makes me smile, and I often get lost in daydreams of being her husband. Each time I look at her, I picture a life with her, then I picture bashing her fucking head in with a hammer while her screams echo into the distance.

It seemed each "intrusive thought" was punctuated by a woman's scream.

Heather waved one of her small hands in my face and beamed.

"Whoops," I said with a laugh. "I'm daydreaming again."

She giggled and told me it was alright, that she's been daydreaming more than usual too.

We ordered some cheese fries and a couple of plates of hot wings before chatting about our day, and about how we might spend the rest of the evening. As she gabbed and joked, I would catch myself letting the "intrusive thoughts" slip in.

The image of my left hand between Heather's thighs and the other on her cheek, letting her lick my thumb, had penetrated my mind. This seemed normal enough, at least until I imagined tightening my right hand into her face, causing her to wince and yelp in pain. As pain and pleasure mixed in my mind's eye, I could feel myself getting hard.

"Hey, Heather," I whispered. "Can we fuck tonight?"

Heather blushed and nodded slowly, her blonde pigtails gliding over her shoulders. I saw a sinister smile spread over her lips and I saw her little fangs bare themselves for the world to see.

She may have been 24, but Heather loved to wear her hair in the same messy pigtails that the Wendy's mascot sported. Her teeth were crooked and sharp, but they had suchPost too long. Click here to view the full text.


I know that no one asked for this, but I did a reading of this story. If my voice offends your good sensibilities, then I apologize.

To find me, just go on YouTube and search for "Marcus Roveri," which is totally a real name, and in no way a name that I made up.


She was cute. But scarred. So am I. I'm not a slayer though, I've just been... through a lot. Not as much as a Top Class Assassin, though. She was, and hunted many of my fellows. Just my luck, here I was, with a beautiful big-breasted blue-eyed bitch that was tied to a chair, securely thanks to my former ship-mates. She had an hourglass figure, but I knew she wasn't a mere model. She was deadly, and the reason my crew was now dead, aside from the 2 who helped me stop her, but they had enough. They wanted no part of what I was going to do.

"Have you ever known love?" I ran my fingers over her sharp sweaty hair. It was soft and dry. My question was met with tired contempt.

"I'm saving myself for marriage." Typical of her sort. She was disciplined. I knew her training involved staying in frigid, fetid swamp water, getting frostbite and bug bites for hours. And everything she fought, that they fought for... was to fight against my personal freedom.

"And you think I should too? That I'm evil for being with the girl you murdered? You sick bitch." I saw her eyes go wide.

"Please, I thought she was someone else..." Oh, don't they always.

"You knew she probably wasn't. Just saw a fine girl, dark hair, rebel outfit, wore a symbol you disagreed with. You think 'eh, fuck it. Should kill her.'"

"I'm sorry. Just kill me and be done with it, please. If you let me go, I'll make it worth your while. I'll retire, and you can have anything." Killing her was her first suggestion. This meant that she knew where she was and who she was dealing with. At least the likelihood was enough to scare her into preferring death.

"Why should I just kill you? You did worse to me, you killed someone I love." I saw her eyes slowly drop as I spoke. "You killed her without a 2nd thought. I have to live without her now. And you think she's the sinner."

"No! We're all sinners! She's in a better- OOOOWWWW!!"

How dare she? I punched her face in... with a hammer.

"Yeah, a better place than you, that's for damn sure."

She only looked at me, wide eyed in fear, and clearly hoped it would be over soon. Her hopes were to be dashed.

I grabbed a rope of strong intertwined wires and noosed it around her, then threw the other end over a steel bar overhead and anchored it. I pulled, slowly, again and again, until she was hanging from the floor, still tied to a chair. The legs of it dangled just milimeters in the air, Post too long. Click here to view the full text.


Someone critique please.


Hello friend.

Now here's a story that's packed with the kind action that makes this site so exciting. It's easy to follow, too, and there's no urge to skip around. I read it cover to cover, so to speak.

I gather that you like to use something vaguely political as the source of conflict in your writing. I appreciate that there's a justification for what transpires.

"I ... fuck her asshole a lot." There are six words' worth of vanilla sex there is in this story, which is just the right amount. Maybe a little much, even.

Does the narrator burn down his ship?


Thank you! The narrator does not burn his ship down. I'm thinking I might've intended it all to be in a bunker on land and not out at sea. If I've left it ambiguous, perhaps that would be best, and I might even have a sequel (but I'm a very slow writer).


The Fool's Baron

Alight with sound and music and gaiety, the festival rang with laughter and cheer as the King's new harlequin set herself to work, juggling and dancing and cracking wise with equal dexterity in every act as her audience heckled and cheered playfully. With some luck she had happened on the work, having been discovered by one of the king's servants when about town on an errand, and with much gusto she performed and acted and pranced, deriving a certain joy from entertaining her captive audience ... and deriving a certain joy and excitement as she felt ogling eyes on her body.

Wrapped in taut leathers and a colorful bodice of scarlet, with a tightly-drawn black corset and tall heels clicking on the floor as she moved, she knew that her dress would be sure to draw attention, and her admirers--man and woman alike--made little effort to hide their lust as they took in the show, and the fetching young lady performing it. Each high step, each demonstrative gesture caused her full breasts to jiggle, and she delighted in noticing each of their leering gazes; until she spun about in a dance and stopped before a tall and broad man, and paused. He was a mountain, a wide and strong man in sharp dress and wearing a long and pointed beard of the finest grooming. She could see quite immediately he was an important figure, and so stopped to wave a hand in bowing low, crossing one foot over another politely and bowing so low as to nearly touch the ends of her jester's hat on the floor; and when she rose again, the painted-white surface of her face creased just a bit as she winked but briefly at him. Quickly she turned and went back to her work with a neat cartwheel, and at the center of the floor she paused to again bow to the audience ... keeping her back to her admirer, and bowing low again; low enough to pinch her vulva between her thighs and present herself to him for a longer moment than was necessary to salute the crowd.

The night dragged long after that, and thoughts of before pushed away from her mind as she focused on the excited prospect of a midnight rendezvous; thoughts and questions, too, of what had happened to the previous harlequin, and those before her. As the hour grew late the party finally dispersed, dismissed by the King who had sated his palette on beer and wine and fine cuts of meats until he had lost his appetite for entertainment for the evening; and with a light and airy bounce in her step tPost too long. Click here to view the full text.


Ok, that was hot, but more dubish than con


I had trouble figuring out which tag to put so I just defaulted it there since she's not being technically raped, per se.


He tore the outfit! :(

BTW, whatever your proofreading workflow is, it's amazing.


The Cull

Naked and trembling, little Lola mouse stepped forth from the dressing area, with only a thin black choker bearing a name tag and registry number. Large, round ears drooped submissively as she passed through the entrance, taking note of the many cameras with their shining red lights--indicating live filming--and timid, shaky footfalls led her slowly towards her fate ... but she shook not from fright, but restrained excitement.

This was the moment she had anticipated for months; the moment she had carefully dieted for, planned for, and prepared herself for: it was her time for the Cull, her time to become a star, to be admired and lusted for and, ultimately, cum for. Once a month, it had been ordained, the population of the Lesser species must be culled, to be reduced and slashed until it could again become manageable. Rampant overpopulation had demanded it, and modern depravity had twisted it into a game of lust, of sex, and of gory delight. In short, she would be sacrificed on the totem pole of a bull's member, impaled and stretched until she burst and, quite simply, died from the fucking.

Maybe it should have been normal for a girl to have a sense of self-preservation, to want to survive and thrive and grow into old age ... but this was a great event, a festival of sex and degenerate lust, and a celebrated ending to a short life; she would be a trophy, a prize, and a star in every right, with the event televised across the world to an audience millions strong, man and woman alike waiting and edging and watching as one of the arena's stars ripped her apart upon his powerful member. Indeed, it was a volunteer's event: prey were groomed and trained and even bred for this, and often the line to apply grew longer than the list of available positions; victims could even choose from their death options, and the options soon had to be expanded to include the creative, and for mass executions--firing squad, hanging, beheading, spitting. It had become an honor, a violent and sexy ending to a life that would otherwise have no meaning. Lola had chosen the personal option, the one hardest to earn, to whom only the most "gifted" of girls could be chosen: public arena copulation.

As trembling legs brought her forward, she did her best to hide a blush, appearing to be demure and shy under the bright lights of the arena in playing to her audience--doubtless an adoring one, or so she hoped--and she had tPost too long. Click here to view the full text.
4 posts omitted. Click reply to view.


Thank you, all. I don't have any other tales--yet--but I plan on writing more stories in the future. Inspiration is the hard part ... I might take suggestions if only to jog my muse. (-:


Really sexy story.


I'm not into furry, so I tried my best to imagine the girl being human where possible. The story was super hot though and I've surely enjoyed it.


<3 That was so great :) thankyou!



You're very welcome. C:

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