Previous thread: https://www.gurochan.cx/lit/res/5896.html
And we're back in business. Well, I was never really gone, but just too busy/lazy/distracted to make a new thread after my old one was suddenly way past the bump limit. But I did write a couple of stories in the meantime, of my own design or inspired by people from discord, which I'll be posting over the next days in no particular order. Something something feedback and criticism is greatly appreciated.
=The Heart-stopping House of Horrors [OC; m/f, rape; cutting, hanging, mutilation, neck snap, stabbing; semi-con]=
“Come one, come all to our Heart-stopping House of Horrors!” The man dressed in the skeleton costume standing beside the entrance to the grounds loudly proclaimed. “Others will just scare you a bit and let you go, but with us, you're playing for keeps! None of our actors nor animatronics will hold anything back, so you may well die for real!” Even though most of the people in earshot were already waiting in line anyways, so he was really just making a show for them.
“However if you do survive, you'll not only get your admission fee returned, but a cash prize of 50$! As well as being recorded on the wall of survivors!” Standing right in front of the line, Kelly could see the wall besides the man, bearing little more than a dozen framed pictures of visitors, both male and female, and of various ages, posing victoriously in front of the house, though invariably looking rather shaken, some covered in blood, and at least one girl missing a hand.
Just as the man finished his spiel, as if on cue, Kelly could faintly hear a panicked scream that abruptly cut off, and a moment later he briefly listened to his two-way radio, then turned to the visitors. “Looks like this one didn't make it and ran afoul of The Butcher.” How imaginative. “Who's our next brave soul?”
Kelly stepped up and after signing some paperwork that freed the organisers from any and all responsibility for her potential death or maiming, as well as allowing them the use of her body for the rest of the season before returning it to her family, stood in front of a camera as instructed. “What's the picture for, by the way?” The dark-skinned green-eyed girl with shoulder-length curly black hair and glasses, wearing a practical longsleeve and jeans, asked the costumed man.
“Legal reasons, mostly.” He replied in a more normal tone. “And so our actors know who to go for in case we have unauthorised entries or need to send someone else in for whatever emergency, as well as calibrating the animatronics to the same effect.”
“I see.” That seemed somewhat more practical than Kelly had expected – though part of her was still thinking they were also maintaining a collection of all of their victims somewhere. After the man checked her paperwork, he let her in and Kelly slowly approached the large, three-storied building stretching a fair bit to both sides, with an old and appropriately spooky-looking facade, and a small tower-like structure on the top right above the entrance – as well as some more gruesome decorations Kelly noticed as she came closer, that briefly made her hesitate in her steps.
There was a naked girl cleanly impaled on a spike, in through her pussy and out through her mouth, blood from both her mouth and pussy covering her body. Another was tied to some kind of chair and had been strangled with a piece of rope through the backrest, her face dark purple and contorted in pain, and her panties visibly wet with urine. And right before a pair of steps leading up to the porch, a girl was leaned against the wall, slumped forward so Kelly could clearly see the massive gaping hole in the back of her head, the wall behind her splattered with chunks of brain and gore, and the gun still half in her mouth.
Shaking off those images, Kelly quickly walked up to the door and pushed it open, valiantly stepping inside, but as soon as she'd taken like two steps, it slammed shut behind her with a creaking noise, making her startle a little. …Well, of course they'd do that; Kelly slowly made her way down the corridor bearing several old slightly creepy portraits on the walls with the name plaques dating back a few centuries and she briefly wondered if those had been actual people or they were just made up to add to the ambience.
After only a handful more steps the corridor suddenly hit an intersection, leaving her with three paths to take, none of which gave any meaningful indication of what to expect, so after a brief moment of indecisiveness, Kelly just chose the left, there was this one saying about always turning left in a maze, wasn't it?
The décor of the walls gave way to more modern-looking wallpaper and furnishing, then just as Kelly rounded a corner, with a loud roar and a musical sting a large hooded figure lunged at her, making Kelly scream and jump backwards, hitting her back against the wall before she recognised the now immobile figure as a rather generic slasher villain design, as the scare slowly retreated into the wall as if on rails – which was probably precisely what it was.
Shaking her head at herself for falling for something like this, even though she really couldn't help it, those were just reflexes, Kelly moved on, entering what looked like a bathroom, complete with a toilet, sink, mirror and shower – and a shower curtain splattered with red. Loath as she was to admit it, after that jumpscare, and the permanent eerie ambient sounds just barely this side her range of hearing, Kelly was rather on edge, so she slowly, carefully took a look around the room, finding nothing of significance – not even a second exit. Was this a dead end?
…Or were the designers being clever by hiding the way forward behind the obviously foreboding curtain? That had to be it. With a small smirk Kelly approached the curtains and pulled them to the side – only for another masked killer that had been lying in wait for her to lurch towards her, jabbing at her with a knife. Far too close to evade, Kelly's surprised shriek cut off as he rammed the large kitchen knife deep into her stomach. Incredulously staring at the blade, and the blood quickly dyeing her shirt and dripping down her abdomen, Kelly staggered backwards as the killer withdrew the knife a moment later, the pain taking another split second to fully hit as she started screaming at the top of her lungs.
Undeterred, the killer moved after her, slamming Kelly against the wall before jabbing the knife into her abdomen again …and again …and again, her screams fading to pained gasps as the massive, nauseating pain flooded her body, and a moment later Kelly coughed, the sickening taste of blood and bile filling her mouth, blood dripping down her lips and chin, mixing with her tears of pain and fear as she still futilely tried to push the killer away from her.
But he unrelentingly continued, only stopping after easily a dozen stabs, leaving Kelly just barely hanging on, weakly sobbing and clutching her ravaged stomach, standing in a huge puddle of her own blood, she almost imagined she could feel her intestines bulging from the wounds and even now had to hold in the gag reflex.
After silently observing Kelly for a moment, the killer raised his knife again, taking more careful aim this time before stabbing straight into Kelly's chest, the blade slicing through her breast and piercing the ribs before accurately hitting her heart. As the killer withdrew the knife, a new surge of blood oozed from the wound and Kelly could almost feel herself weakening with every frantic, futile heartbeat, her body slowly growing cold and the edges of her vision beginning to blacken as she sunk to her knees, taking only a few more seconds to die, her body slumping over as everything just went dark
“Next.” The costumed man announced and Jenna walked up with the slightest hint of hesitation; the closer she'd gotten to the house the more spooked she'd gotten, the occasional screams from other victims not at all helping, but by this point there was no backing out, or her friends would be calling her scaredy-cat for like ever. Skimming over the paperwork and signing it, the petite brown-haired, brown-eyed girl wearing a simple colourful t-shirt and knee-length skirt smiled shyly to the camera, before the operator let her enter.
Noting the bodies put on display closer to the entrance, Jenna did her best to not look at any of them, eyes straight ahead as she pushed the door to the house open and slightly shakily stepped into the darkness.
After slowly, carefully, making her way through a few spooky corridors, turning right at the first intersection and shortly after climbing a set of stairs, walking back in the direction she'd come from, Jenna suddenly hit a dead end, a window looking out over the entrance area, but the corridor otherwise completely devoid of doors or other exits. Turning around to double back on her path, just as she reached the stairs, considering if she should go up again or try to stay at ground level, suddenly with a loud noise a tall hooded figure lurched at Jenna as if from nowhere and she jumped backwards with a scream, her heart racing.
However after a few moments of the figure just standing perfectly motionless, she slowly caught herself, carefully inspecting it to find it had come to a stop right in a relatively well-lit area, making the seams and patchwork nature of its cloak rather apparent …and actually kind of silly-looking. If she'd encountered this guy in broad daylight and not gotten jumpscared by him in the dark, Jenna totally wouldn't have been scared of him at all.
Giggling and shaking her head at both that mediocre costume and herself for falling for it, Jenna decided to chance it and go up the stairs, but just as she moved past the weak jumpscare – maybe the electronics of it were broken or something, it still hadn't moved at all – suddenly it reached after her, one hand muffling her surprised shriek as it pressed a damp cloth over her mouth, the other striking her in the stomach, making her gasp for air – and get a good lungful of some sickly sweet scent, and before Jenna realised what was happening, suddenly everything started spinning and went dark.
As Jenna came to, she found herself lying naked on the hard floor in a dark room, save for a large opening right in front of her, through which she could make out some trees and part of the entrance area, meaning she probably was way up in the high tower on the front of the house right now. Slowly getting to her feet, all of a sudden she noticed the coarse rope that had been placed rather tight around her neck, but before she could take it off and get out of here, the hooded figure that had ambushed her before suddenly came up beside her and grabbed her hand, dragging her right to the edge of the tower.
Before Jenna could even fully make the connection, the figure gave her a strong push and she stumbled over the edge with a scream – only for her voice to cut off after just a split second's free fall as her neck was caught in the noose that was apparently fixed to a beam jutting out from the wall of the tower. Getting an admittedly good view of the surrounding area and the people waiting in line below her, once the realisation fully hit her Jenna started frantically gasping for air as she clawed at the noose, but to no avail.
Continuing her futile struggles, unable to even scream, Jenna's eyes quickly filled with tears as she kept gasping and flailing, taking several seconds to realise that some of the visitors below had noticed her and were pointing in her direction, and before long almost everyone was looking up at her naked, swinging body.
From up here and past the sound of her own heartbeat filling her ears, Jenna couldn't make out what the people were saying, but even if they'd wanted to they'd hardly been able to come to her aid in time; they probably thought it was part of the show – and in a way, it was – and if anything, several of them seemed to be laughing at her suffering and her kicking legs regularly flashing clear views of her completely smooth pussy as Jenna's pain only grew worse and worse, her lungs and head feeling as if on fire.
Jenna continued her losing fight against the noose, feeling her strength slowly start to fade, all noise, even her own ragged gasps, muffled beyond recognition, but she noticed a few of the visitors below watching her rubbing themselves – or a partner – through their pants or skirts, and a small part of her drew an odd solace from the fact that in her last, agonising moments, she was at least giving some people a good show.
Her face smudged with tears and drool, Jenna began losing all sensation in her body, hardly even feeling herself lose control of her bladder as she all but went limp, the rather conspicuous yellow stream arcing from her pussy and dripping down her legs to splatter on the ground somewhere below, much to the laughter of the visitors watching below her. Just a few moments later Jenna's mind faded for good, leaving her unaware of her hooded executioner stepping up beside her lifeless body and taking a bow to the audience, eliciting a round of applause.
As the girl before her had died in an admittedly quite erotic manner, Yuka hadn't been able to help rubbing herself through her skirt a little bit, but she'd quickly caught herself, unlike that slut right behind her who'd actually sucked off her boyfriend in public; sure they'd hidden behind a tree, but said tree hadn't been quite wide enough, also she still had some bits of cum on her chin as she returned. Yuka really hoped that one would meet a particularly bloody end befitting a horror movie victim.
But first it was finally her turn. The pale dark-haired girl with one of her grey eyes hidden behind the curtain of her hair, wearing a black blouse, skirt and spiderweb-styled stockings, posed for the picture, before confidently, walking up to the house, briefly inspecting the macabre decorations on the way and wondering if, if she didn't make it, she'd end up put on display too; that'd certainly be nice. Suppressing an excited grin, Yuka pushed the door open and entered.
Step into the circle and call upon the demons, if you dare. The sign at the entrance to the small room filled with shelves full of books, a desk full of notes, candles and some incense, and two intricate circles draw onto the floorboards in chalk, read. Now this was looking like something. Yuka entered to inspect the circles closer, admiring the artistry in them an recognising a fair amount of the runes surrounding as well, even if a couple showed some small mistakes typical for laypersons.
It wasn't that she hadn't been entertained so far, the scares still managed to make her jump, and some of the installations, like one of the girls that had been in line before her earlier strapped to a guillotine and being endlessly fucked from behind by some masked creature while her severed head on a pike was watching with empty eyes, had been quite interesting, but at the same time few if anything had actually measured up to the horrors Yuka would sometimes see in her dreams or imagine in her idle thoughts. But this one looked to be rather intriguing.
Without hesitation Yuka stepped into the smaller circle, and after a few seconds with a rumble and a series of low, infernal noises a huge cloud of fog and smoke billowed around the other circle and the floorboards split as a huge figure emerged in the circle with a roar. It was obviously a very typical demon, complete with red skin, cloven feet, a bulky, muscular physique and large horns on its head – as well as a very conspicuous, huge fully erect penis.
…Well, not quite the attractive incubus or succubus Yuka had secretly been hoping for, but it probably would suffice. Part of her hadn't been expecting to make it out of here alive anyways, and what better way to meet her end than on Halloween, in a place full of tribute to the occult and frightening. Yet when the demon suddenly moved, Yuka flinched and reflexively tried to turn and run, but it was far too late. Its horns scraping against the ceiling as it rose to its full height before lunging at Yuka, the demon easily caught her arm in a vice-like grip.
As the demon tore away her top and bra with its other hand, revealing her somewhat small, firm breasts, then similarly removed her skirt, Yuka knew what was coming – and that she had no way of stopping it. And true enough, the demon effortlessly forced her onto the ground, spreading her legs heedless of Yuka's struggles as it loomed over her, its dick hovering just centimetres from her pussy. “No way, that's not going to fit! Please don- Aah!” Cutting off her pleas, the demon thrust into Yuka, tearing right through her lacy black panties as it roughly entered her.
Its dick was surprisingly smooth and gave almost no friction, even without any sort of lube, but at the same time it was also far thicker than anything Yuka had ever used for herself, painfully stretching the entrance of her pussy and making tears well up in her eyes as it slowly pushed into her. Once it was inside her, far deeper than anything ever should, a painful stretching sensation spreading through Yuka's abdomen, the demon pulled back again, but then grabbed Yuka's thighs and half thrust, half pulled her towards it to penetrate deep into her again, making her gasp in pain.
Looking down, Yuka wasn't too surprised to find a little bit of her blood smeared over the demon's massive dick as it continued raping her, but after a few more moments she found that if she changed her position just a bit, leaning back and arching her back to stretch her abdomen, and started playing with her breasts, despite – or perhaps because of – the pain, it actually started to feel kind of good, her cries and gasps quickly becoming those of pleasure.
In this position, Yuka could actually see her lower stomach bulge a little bit every time the demon thrusted all the way into her pussy, the image only serving to turn her on further, seeing as she got to live out quite a few kinks normally reserved for the realm of fiction right now, by this point plainly enjoying her 'rape', the pain and pleasure blending into one as she shamelessly moaned and gasped, even starting to move her hips counterpoint to the demon's movements as far as she could.
However all of a sudden the demon abruptly stopped and pulled out of her, leaving Yuka's pussy painfully stretched yet at the same time yearning for more, but before she had much time to be disappointed by the interruption, it grabbed one of her arms to turn her onto her stomach, then reached for the other one as well, completely lifting Yuka off her feet. Despite the sudden pain of her shoulders suddenly carrying her whole weight, Yuka couldn't help an excited grin, as she could make an educated guess what was about to happen.
And true enough, just as she'd thought, the demon lifted Yuka over its dick, carefully manoeuvring her pussy right above it before just loosening its grip, letting her own – admittedly not that heavy – weight drive its dick deep into her, eliciting a loud moan from her. Leaning against the demon's bulky chest, Yuka could hardly move other than squirm a little, only serving to further sink onto it, but she fascinatedly patted her stomach to actually faintly feel the thick, solid dick inside her.
After a few moments the demon grabbed both of her shoulders again, lifting Yuka before pressing her onto its dick again, continuing to fuck her even rougher than before, but even so, completely at her rapist's mercy, she nonetheless continued gasping and moaning in pleasure, feeling she was about to cum quite soon.
However the demon beat Yuka to it, suddenly tensing with a growl, forcing her particularly far onto its dick as it shot several unrealistically massive loads of cum into her, filling up her womb and pussy and leaving a hot, distended feeling in her abdomen, the sensation enough to make Yuka cum as well without even touching herself, shuddering and moaning as she closed her eyes, arching her back and shivering in pleasure as she felt her pussy clench, making some of the demon's cum drip down her thighs.
Slowly winding down after a rather long, beautiful climax, Yuka inspected her lower abdomen to actually find it slightly bloated from being so filled with the demon's seed …just like in some of her hentai. And while she wouldn't have minded to stay like this a while longer – or have another go – she doubted that a single 'scare' would spend so much time on a single visitor, but just as Yuka wondered if or how the demon was going to finish her or just let her go, one of its hands reached around her chin and the other the back of her head and in one swift motion it twisted her head a full 180 degrees with a visceral crack.
Suddenly losing all feeling in her body – yet aware that she most likely had just peed herself, judging by the dripping sound – Yuka remained awake just long enough to get a good close look at the demon's sculpted face, with its massive horns, razor sharp teeth and merciless red eyes, admiring the brutal yet erotic way it had just ended her in, before everything went dark.
“Um, babe, you got something on your chin.” Amanda's boyfriend indicated a spot right below the left corner of his mouth, and as she ran her tongue over the area, there indeed was a little bit more of his slightly salty, sticky cum, so she wiped everything up with a finger before licking it off, making a small show of swallowing the residue.
“Thanks.” And just in time as a moment later the announcer called up the next one. They hadn't heard or seen anything this time, and it had taken a bit longer than the other ones. Did that mean that creepy girl had actually made it, or had she just taken her sweet time to die? Well, whatever.
Giving her boyfriend a quick kiss, Amanda signed the paperwork and posed for the picture, the blue-eyed blonde wearing a rather form-fitting tank top and minishorts making sure to emphasise her quite sizeable bust in the picture as well as she could. Putting a nice sway into her hips she strode towards the building, doing her best to ignore the bodies positioned around the area, not looking to the sides for even a second as she entered the house.
Amanda had been making her way through the house for a few minutes now, and even though none of the scares so far had actually attempted to harm her – save for one swinging blade that almost took off her hand –, she was still massively on edge, why the hell had she let her boyfriend get her into this? He better make that up to her by fucking her real good once they were out of here.
Ascending a flight of stairs, Amanda turned left, taking a few steps down the hallway before opening another door – and stopping in her tracks with a shriek. In the middle of the room there was the almost naked body of a slender brown-haired girl with twintails hanging lifelessly in a noose, the tears and drool smudging her face, bloody scratch marks on her neck and the obvious stain of pee in her panties making it rather apparent her death had been quite agonising, and the knocked down chair beside her body indicating she might well have killed herself, though of course that one might also have been placed there after the fact.
In the dim light it took another few moments for Amanda to recognise the girl's face as Jessica, a classmate of hers that had been going on over this haunted house for the last few days, and she had to fight back a gag reflex, turning on her heel and all but sprinting down the corridor in the other direction to just get away from the body. However just as she was passing by the stairs – blindly running past them – something tripped Amanda's left leg and with a scream she fell, scraping her arms and knees on the ground.
Before she could get up there was a swift tearing noise as something brushed over her back, and a few moments later something wet started soaking the back of her top, and as Amanda reached for the spot to inspect it, there was a sudden sharp pain in her back as her hand returned covered in blood. With a shriek she turned around, still half-lying on the ground, to find a tall man with a badly scarred face and some kind of glove with long metal blades, almost like monstrous fingernails, attached to it looming over her.
As Amanda frantically tried to scramble backwards away from him, he easily caught up with her, swiping with his glove to tear right through her tank top and leave a superficial, yet rather painful cut on her left breast, eliciting another scream. Finally managing to stand up properly, Amanda started running, the killer's slow, measured footsteps overly clearly audible to her as he incessantly followed her. “Get back here, Blondie, I just want to play.” Yeah right.
Suddenly the path before her branched into two, and without much thinking about it, Amanda just picked the left one, intent on losing as little speed as possible – only to lose all her speed a few moments later as after another turn, the hallway suddenly terminated in a dead end, just barely managing not to crash straight into the wall. “Fuck!” Amanda froze and frantically looked around for any other ways for several seconds before finally turning back the way she came, if she was fast maybe she could get to that other hallway before-
Too late. Just as she was about to round the corner, the killer appeared, slowly advancing towards Amanda, before swiping at her again, leaving a deeper cut on her right breast and with a scream she tried to back away, only to trip over her own feet in her panic, painfully landing on her butt instead. Quickly straddling her, the killer's weight on her stomach all but pinned Amanda in place as he tore away the shredded remains of her tank top to reveal her lack of a bra and beautifully large yet completely firm breasts – by now smeared with blood from her cuts.
The killer swiped at her left breast once again, more accurately this time, leaving three almost parallel cuts as Amanda screamed, desperately trying to push him off her, but he was that strong and heavy her efforts barely seemed to even register. Instead he easily pushed her arms away, playfully running a single blade along the bottom of her right breast, just strong enough to draw blood, then brought up the tip of the blade to his mouth, carefully licking some of the blood of it, making Amanda grimace and shudder in revulsion.
Heedless of her continued squirming and struggling, the killer almost leisurely sliced multiple more shallow cuts onto Amanda's breasts, stomach and shoulders, before roughly groping her left breast with his gloved hand – leaving a few more small injuries –, then pressing a single blade deep into the top of it and slowly, forcefully dragging it right through the flesh, all but bisecting her breast.
Incredulously staring at the gaping wound, the muscles as well as some other colours of tissue disturbingly clearly visible for a moment before flooding with blood, Amanda let out a shrill scream, a moment later feeling a warm, wet sensation in her shorts indicating that the pain and fear were just too much, only adding humiliation to the mix.
Her shaky hand gingerly hovering over her mutilated breast, the killer gave Amanda a good few seconds to take in her situation, before deeply jabbing three of his blades into her other breast, similarly carving through it with enough force that she could feel the blades scrape against her ribs, as well as cleanly slicing through her nipple, and Amanda screamed even louder, wildly thrashing and wailing, the realisation slowly sinking in that she was not going to make it out of here alive.
But mercifully the massive blood loss, red streaming all over her chest as well as pooling under her back and soaking her hair, started taking its toll and Amanda's vision started to fade around the edges, the massive pain in her breasts fading into a cold numbness, even the killer continuing to slice into them barely even registering anymore, and before long that darkness fully washed over her and everything vanished.
After that one girl had taken quite a long time, the slutty blonde one after her had died rather quickly – and painfully, if the screams Lara had heard were any indication – now it was finally her turn. …On second thought now that bet seemed like a really kinda dumb idea, but kinda late now, so whatever.
The moderately busty long-haired blonde wearing a plain white top and shorts gave the camera a cheerful smile, then signed the whatever waiver, before walking up to the house. The rather gruesome decorations rather graphically reminding her of the fate that might await her – which no doubt was their entire purpose – Lara only noticed she'd quickened her step quite a bit by the time she reached the door, forcing herself to slow down as she entered, because if horror movies had taught her anything, the ones that panicked always ended up dead.
Exploring the house for several minutes now, dodging a few jumpscares and at one point a noose deviously hanging from the ceiling at neck height right after a corner, Lara had come across a reasonably well-hidden door in a wall, leading to a narrow staircase downwards. Something this elaborate was looking good to actually be the direction of the exit.
However at the bottom of the stairs Lara found herself inside what looked like a small wooden cabin, precisely the sort that teenagers would spend a weekend in, only to conveniently all suffer from no reception or battery on their phone as they were picked off by the monster of the week one by one. Clearly not a good place to be. Lara exited the cabin, only to find herself in a forest – or at least quite a good semblance of one. The ceiling was deceptively tall, and even though most of the trees where just paper cutouts or drawings, the paintwork was really something, making the room seem much bigger than it was.
But before she could really get her bearing or start looking around suddenly a loud growl made Lara turn around, and she could see the silhouette of some large four-legged creature slowly emerging from between two of the 'trees' – and its long fangs faintly glistening even in the dim light as it advanced towards her. That was about all the cue she needed. Not even wasting her breath on pointless screaming, Lara turned on her heel and started in a dead sprint away from the monster, which – predictably – took up pursuit right away.
The semblance of a forest was quite authentic, Lara noted as she swerved around trees and jumped over fallen logs, though right now she kinda wished it really weren't, she had no idea if she even was moving towards any way out at all, the rapid steps of the monster still close behind her. However suddenly her foot caught on a root or something she hadn't seen and Lara stumbled, trying to catch herself, but somehow spinning around instead, only serving to land on her backside instead.
But before she even had a chance to try and get up, the monster was already on her, biting down on her lower leg, its fangs painfully scraping over Lara's shin and digging into her flesh, before it rapidly threw its head back and forth several times until both bones snapped with an audible crack, the immediate, massive pain making Lara scream as she still try to get away, but to no avail.
With her effectively immobilised, the werewolf moved up a little, looming over Lara for several moments, giving her a good look of its dirty black matted fur with bits of dirt and leaves in it, its cruel, cold eyes, and its sharp fangs dripping with blood – her blood. Pawing at her chest and stomach a few times, the wolf tore away Lara's top and bra, leaving her breasts completely exposed, as well as bearing multiple small scratches.
As the wolf lowered its head towards her stomach to no doubt maul her again, Lara suddenly found enough strength in her to ram her knee into the creature's side, to very little reaction, and desperately try to stop its mouth from getting closer to her with both her bare hands – only for the wolf to snap after her left, crushing down its jaw on her wrist and twisting its head until with a sickening crunching noise it tore off her hand altogether. Letting out another scream, Lara incredulously stared at the stump of her arm, spurting blood everywhere and the shredded skin, flesh and even bone clearly visible.
Seemingly giving her a moment to fully take in the horror of her injury, the werewolf waited a few seconds before biting into Lara's stomach, tearing away bits of her skin and muscle, making her start crying and wailing in pain and hammering against its head with her intact hand, but it completely ignored her, instead biting and tearing away again and again until after several more times, the wound was deep enough for it to reach her organs, digging its mouth deep into her, eliciting a nauseating pain as it tore at her insides before pulling out, completely covered in blood and bits of gore, pulling a pinkish bloodied loop of her intestine out in its jaws, the sight – or more like the realisation just what it was – enough to make Lara throw up in her mouth a little, a bitter acrid taste filling her mouth.
Even as she continued to beat against its head, the wolf entirely ignored Lara's futile efforts, digging into her stomach again, but this time tearing at the skin and flesh again, easily widening the bloody ravaged wound until almost her entire abdomen between the ribs and hips was torn open, exposing several of her organs amidst a veritable sea of blood and shredded flesh. Lara had started to look away at some point, but somehow only hearing the wet tearing noises – and feeling the injuries – was worse than seeing what was happening, so she looked again, just in time for the wolf to tear out another large chunk of her intestines, the taste of bile filling her mouth once more.
By this point Lara was starting to feel the effects of the blood loss, her screams and struggles slowly weakening and the edges of her vision starting to black out, and she had absolutely no illusions she was gonna make it out of here alive, so as the wolf stepped upwards a bit, she hoped it would just tear out her throat or so to put her out of her misery. But instead of her throat, it lowered its mouth to close its jaws around her right breast, seemingly once more pausing to give her a moment to take in what was about to happen, before biting down hard.
The wolf's fangs easily cutting all the way through her flesh, it turned out Lara still had strength left to scream as she let out an ear-piercing shriek as it bit down onto her breast again and again, before throwing its head backwards to brutally tear off most of it, leaving a massive wound streaming blood all over her chest. Lara could rapidly feel her strength fade now, she wasn't going to last much longer, but it was still enough to see and feel the wolf similarly shred her other breast as well, before finally stepping up next to her head, placing its jaws around her neck.
The wolf tore open Lara's throat and she finally started fading, quickly losing all feeling in her body and darkness flooding over her vision, though not before she'd felt the wolf bite down again and shake its head to break her neck as well, before finally everything faded.
And another one bites the dust. Theodora dryly noted at the at the frantic screams from inside suddenly cutting off and the costumed skeleton calling for the next one a moment later. Not that she was necessarily expecting to fare any better, but that was half the fun, now, wasn't it? Posing for the camera, the young woman with Asian features and straight black hair, wearing a dark tank top and skirt, signed the form, before confidently walking towards the house…
Oh hey, I (almost) got the formatting right. I know, I know, Halloween is months past, but it was written more or less on time, I swear. (And I don't wanna wait until the next one to post it either.)
The second and fifth victim are based on the semblance of actual people from discord/this site, according to their descriptions and used with permission. The third one, based off an OC I used for a few rps, was pretty fun to write, so perhaps we'll be seeing her again some time.
(I'm still totally copy-pasting one of these.) Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed, feedback/criticism always appreciated.
Amazing story! Thanks.
Erotic (Mis)Adventures in Virtual Reality [OC; f/f, m/f, rape; hanging; non-lethal; con]
“Welcome, user.” The computerised voice greeted Meyrin as she entered the …room, really just a light pink wireframe cube with a menu display on the 'wall'. “Please select your desired scenario and settings.”
Meyrin did just that, fiddling with the specifics for a few moments before making up her mind and confirming. “Scenario 'Execution of a witch in medieval Europe'.” The voice repeated. “Please stand by. Loading…”
A few moments later with a brief shimmer Meyrin found herself in a prison cell made from rough stone blocks, sitting on a simple wooden board chained to the wall functioning as her bed, and a manacle around her ankle chaining her to the wall. As well as completely naked, her fair-sized breasts and smooth pussy on full display, a sudden gust of wind through the barred windows making her shiver.
She didn't have to wait long for a guard enter, the tall, busty blonde closing the door behind her as she approached Meyrin with a sinister grin. “Your turn soon, witch. But before that I've got a bit to just have some fun with you.” As she reached for Meyrin, the girl tried to back away, but the chain around her ankle stopped her short, and the guard grabbed her by one of her deep red pigtails to painfully pull her closer, then threw her backwards onto her bed.
Taking off her shirt to reveal her sizeable breasts and pulling down her trousers and panties, the woman loomed over Meyrin, pressing her down with one knee against her crotch, then started roughly groping and squeezing the girl's breasts, making her wince. “That's some nice tits on you, witch. I need to try and get a hold of your body after they're through with you. So will the other guards I'm sure, but I'm fine with sharing too. Just know you'll be put to good use before being fed to the pigs.” The images the guard was evoking made Meyrin shudder, but there was nothing she could do against it, even fighting back against the woman would be useless, so she didn't answer.
“Too good to talk to me?” The guard gave Meyrin a strong slap, sending her head reeling and leaving a stinging pain over the entire side of her face. “Let's see how you like this.” The guard picked up her short baton – the only weapons guards got to carry inside the prison for safety reasons – and forced Meyrin's legs apart before the redhead even had time to register what she was about to do.
“N-no, please don- Ahh!” Meyrin's pleading cut off into a scream as the woman pushed the thick, if thankfully smooth, baton painfully deep into her pussy with a cruel smirk.
“Don't be like that. As a witch you've probably had the devil's cock in you before, so surely this isn't so bad by comparison.” The woman started roughly thrusting the baton back and forth, making Meyrin tear up as the guard started grinding her pussy against her knee and thigh quickly starting to moan as she continued raping Meyrin, the girl just looking away, trying to react as little as possible and just waiting for it to be over.
After a short while the woman paused with a frown. “Are you really that cold, witch? Show some reaction.” She rammed the baton particularly deep into Meyrin and the redhead couldn't fully suppress her scream of pain, making the guard grin. “Oh, whatever, you're gonna be cold soon enough anyways.” She roughly pulled the baton out, making Meyrin gasp in pain before half turning her onto her side, lifting one leg and resting it against her shoulder as she started rubbing her pussy directly against Meyrin's.
Under other circumstances odds were she would have rather enjoyed it, but like this all Meyrin could think of was this utter violation, the woman continuing to grind against her and roughly groping her breasts, and her impending execution, so she just closed her eyes, silently sobbing as she waited for her torment to end, her rapist's shameless moans filling her ears.
In a small mercy the woman didn't take too long to climax, her voice rising in a crescendo as she tensed and shuddered against Meyrin, rather generously squirting her juices over the redhead's crotch and thigh. Slowly winding down still lightly panting, the guard got off Meyrin with a satisfied smile. “Not bad, for a whore of Satan. I'll be sure to have another go with you later.”
Quickly getting dressed again as Meyrin sat up, pointlessly wiping over her thigh and pussy to get rid of this disgusting feeling, the guard undid the shackles around her leg, grabbing her by the arm before she had any chance to even try to run, not that she would've gotten past the locked door anyways. “Come on, witch, the gallows are waiting for you.”
Dragging Meyrin after her, nearly making her stumble, the guard opened the door before forcing her down the hallway of the prison, Meyrin's nakedness eliciting quite a few shouts and whistles from the other prisoners, but she tried her best to ignore them, only looking at the ground right in front of her as the guard lead her out into the prison's yard, her eyes taking a few moments to adjust to the sudden light as she was walked up the wooden stairs to the platform holding the gallows, and she could already hear the noise of the crowd gathered here just to watch her die.
“People of this town!” A petite brunette with a deceptively strong voice announced as Meyrin had reached the front of the platform and the crowd fell almost silent. “You are here today to bear witness to justice! This girl has been convicted of witchcraft, dealing with the devil, and laying curses upon innocent townsfolk!”
She left a brief pause for the crowd to roar and shout. “Yeah!” “Kill the bitch!” “String her up!”
“And for that she will be hanged!” The crowd cheered, and Meyrin could rather clearly see the hate and bloodlust in the faces of some of the people closest to the gallows. “…But it wouldn't be right to not reward the men who captured her, now would it?” The woman continued after a moment. “So as a price they will have this witch's virginity before she is brought to justice!”
“As if she has any left, whore of Satan!” “Yeah, fuck her good!” “Make her squeal!”
Before Meyrin could completely make sense of what the woman had said, a large figure stepped up right behind her, bending her upper body forward as he grabbed her hips, forcing a coarse finger into her pussy before spreading her labia and pushing his dick into her, making Meyrin gasp in pain and surprise. “No… Please don't do this!” As the man grabbed her wrists and started thrusting into her, Meyrin quickly teared up in shame, closing her eyes against the view of the cheering crowd before her, even if she couldn't close her ears to their continued jeers and shouts.
“Damn, you've a tight cunt, witch.” The man behind her chuckled. “Almost a waste to hang you.” He pushed into Meyrin especially deep, making her gasp and wince as he began raping her even faster and harder. “But at least I get to make use of you first.” Powerless to hardly even move as the man roughly pulled and tossed her body back and forth, her breasts and hair swaying with the movements, Meyrin could do little more than try to endure as well as she could, taking only a faint solace in the fact that the man most likely wasn't going to take too long.
And true enough, before long the man sped up some more, tensing and grunting, the grip of his hands around her wrists painfully tightening as he came inside Meyrin, a faintly hot sensation building inside her pussy as a few moments later he let go of her, pulling out and leaving Meyrin panting and sobbing, standing on shaky legs and feeling utterly helpless and violated as the crowd laughed and cheered at her torment.
However it seemed they still weren't done, as there was some footsteps behind Meyrin and someone else walked up, groping her breasts from behind her, before suddenly pushing her forward at the same moment he tripped her legs with his foot, making Meyrin stumble and fall onto her hands and knees, scraping them on the rough wood. By this point she'd almost been expecting another one, but not what happened next, as the man held her cheeks apart to drip some spit onto her pussy and spread both it and some of the cum of her previous rapist around her asshole. “What? No! Not there-” …And pressed his dick against her asshole, brutally entering her as Meyrin cut herself off with a pained shriek.
The man behind her let out a laugh, as did a number of the spectators, and Meyrin grit her teeth, trying to not give them any more satisfaction, but as he started thrusting back and forth, even rougher and more painful than the one before, an odd, unpleasant sensation spreading in her abdomen, Meyrin's composure broke and she started crying, he image of the crowd blurry as she quickly looked down instead, her tears dripping onto the wood.
Seemingly spurred on by the reaction of the crowd, the man began pounding Meyrin's asshole even faster and deeper until she couldn't stop herself from letting out a pained cry every time he pushed into her all the way. Gritting her teeth and clenching her fists until her knuckles hurt, Meyrin tried her best to show as little reaction as possible, but to little avail. But if nothing else, there was no way they would get her to beg; she was going to endure this for as long as she had to, and then face her death with dignity – or however much they'd left her.
Thankfully it seemed that instead of torturing her, the man was purely intent on his own pleasure, so it only took him another few minutes before he groaned, briefly speeding up before slowing down as he came inside her asshole, filling her with an odd slightly distended sensation, before painfully pulling out and letting go of her, and Meyrin slumped down, panting and trying to stifle her sobs, ignoring the cheers and noise of the crowd.
However after a handful of seconds, the brunette announcer stepped up to Meyrin, taking her hand and surprisingly gently helping her up, but as she got up, Meyrin felt come cum drip from her ass and pussy down her thighs and shuddered in revulsion. The woman lead her closer to the edge of the platform, standing on a conspicuously marked trapdoor with a noose already looming over Meyrin. “It is time justice be done!” She announced and the crowd cheered. “For the crime of witchcraft you are sentenced to be hanged by the neck until dead!”
The woman pulled the noose down and draped it over Meyrin's neck, making the girl flinch at the touch of the coarse rope on her skin, before briefly leaning closer to her and say in a more normal, almost sympathetic voice. “Don't try to fight, just let it happen, it will be faster that way.” So this was it. Meyrin swallowed as the woman tightened the noose, fighting back her rising panic as she fastened its other end to the beam of the gallows, then placed a hand on the lever to the trapdoor. “May the Lord have mercy on your soul.”
“No, please, I-” The trapdoor opened and Meyrin dropped only a handful of centimetres before falling into the noose, the rope completely sliding shut around her throat and cutting off her last words into a choked gasp. Whatever composure she'd tried to maintain shattered almost immediately and Meyrin started clawing at the rope, gasping for air and her legs wildly kicking, but of course none of it did her any good, other than her nails leaving some scratch marks on her neck.
The crowd was loudly cheering at Meyrin's suffering, the pounding in her head and the burning in her lungs quickly growing as she continued desperately flailing, her whole body twisting and gyrating at the end of the rope, hoping for any kind of reprieve she wouldn't get, her kicking legs occasionally flashing views of her cum-stained pussy and thighs to the crowd. Soon the pain was completely unbearable, seeming to blanket her entire body, yet Meyrin continued pointlessly fighting against the rope, kicking and thrashing with what strength she had left.
Before long in place of the pain a cold numbness started covering her limbs, but by now Meyrin wished for nothing more than her suffering to end, so she only welcomed it. Yet it took a few more minutes of futile struggles, Meyrin's strength slowly waning as her movements weakened, before the darkness finally covered her, and Meyrin could only vaguely feel her body going all but limp and a stream of urine dripping from her pussy, much to the laughter of the crowd, as she was finally swept away and everything faded to black
Meyrin awoke with a gasp, one hand pulling away the VR headset as the other reflexively grasped for the rope around her neck that wasn't there anymore, taking a few seconds of panting and gasping for air before fully catching herself. She was laying on her bed in her underwear, just as when she'd entered the simulation, except her face probably was a bit flush right now, and her panties were completely soaked by her juices, if because of the rape or the hanging scene, she couldn't quite tell. This one had certainly been …intense, Meyrin mused as she got up to head for the bathroom to get cleaned up – after getting off to the memory once more while it was still fresh –, she should see if that studio was offering any others that were just as good.
Based on a request/suggestion by Blau Sturm. Normally my tone isn't quite as vulgar (I suppose 'mine'/the narrator's still isn't, but the characters' is), but for this setting/theme it seemed fitting. I guess apart from that the story is pretty self-explanatory.
(I'm still totally copy-pasting one of these.) Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed, feedback/criticism always appreciated.
Snuff Show, the Second [various Franchises; f/f, f-self; asphyxiation, decapitation, neck breaking, throat cutting; con]
“And once again, ladies and gentlemen, it is time for the evening’s highlight! Our agents are always scouring the multiverse for willing participants, and believe me, they find no shortage volunteers. We have a wide variety of beautiful women for you this week, ready to give their lives for the ultimate pleasure, and to give you a show while doing it!”
“First, the combat operator of the warship Minerva, the younger sister to one of our more popular recurring stars, Meyrin Hawke!”
The redhead stepped through the curtains and gave an energetic wave as she smiled. She had light strawberry red hair done in bushy twin-tails, and vibrant blue eyes. She was clad in an outfit that resembled a highly customised military uniform consisting of short black boots, a green skirt cut to the middle of her thighs, and a green sleeveless top, baring her midriff, arms, and showing a decent amount of cleavage.
''“Next, one of Talon's most dangerous weapons, the unfeeling assassin. But we can assure you that here today she will be able to feel just fine!
Amélie Lacroix, better known to the world as Widowmaker!”''
A tall woman with a shapely figure stepped through the curtain, giving a sultry smile to the audience. Her skin was a deep, bluish grey, and her golden eyes held a predatory gleam to them. Her dark blue hair flowed behind her in an almost waist-length ponytail, and she was wearing a predominantly purple bodysuit with its cleavage reaching all the way to her navel, although without her usual rifle and visor helmet.
“The Champion of the Sinnoh Region, a skilled Pokémon Trainer and a dedicated student of history! Well, today she’ll experience some of that history first-hand! Cynthia!”
She was wearing a form-fitting black pants that clung to her legs, serving to accentuate their shape and show her high-heeled shoes, as well as a short sleeveless black dress with a gold trim showing just a slight amount of cleavage and back. And when she stepped into the bright spotlight, both her dress and pants showed to be from a just slightly translucent material, showing off how Cynthia wasn't wearing any underwear, giving a direct, if obscured, view of both her nipples and pussy.
“Finally, a l’Cie from the world of Gran Pulse. With her stories over and her world saved, she finally has some time to enjoy herself! Oerba Yun Fang!”
The black-haired woman stepped through the curtains, devil-may-care grin on her face. She was wearing a traditional blue garb that was covering one of her legs, wrapping around her waist and over her shoulder, leaving a large bit of midriff bare and showing a black bra top underneath, as well as cut-off black sleeves on her forearms, knee-high leather boots and a belt holding a thin piece of fur, some pouches and the sheath of a dagger.
The audience applauded as the women bowed as one, the curtains behind them rising as the lights came on to reveal a pair of chairs, one mostly normal and rather comfortable-looking, the other more sturdy, with a tall backrest and restraints for the wrists and ankles – and a large black dildo resting on its seat –, as well as a large wooden frame clearly belonging to a guillotine.
“Well, let's get to it,” Widowmaker reached around her back to open her bodysuit before gracefully stepping out of it to leave herself completely naked, then sauntered over to the normal chair to sit down on it with her legs spread wide, displaying her smoothly shaved pussy for all to see. “Come here, girl~” she purred, gesturing towards Meyrin with one hand and towards her spread legs with the other. “And take off that shirt of yours.”
“Um… okay.” With a light blush the redhead complied, slipping off her top and the grey bra underneath to reveal a pair of firm, youthful breasts, before getting on her knees in front of Widowmaker. Licking the woman's labia before parting them with her tongue, Meyrin found that while outside the skin was unnaturally cool, inside Widowmaker was as pink and warm as she should be.
In response to Meyrin's attention, Widowmaker drew in a hitched breath, raising her legs to drape them over the girl's shoulders and pull her closer, and in return Meyrin sped up her movements, bracing herself against the chair with her hands. Widowmaker's pussy was quickly getting wet, a light purple blush on her face, and she locked her legs behind Meyrin's head, pressing the girl's face directly against her pussy.
As Widowmaker kept increasing the pressure on her head, Meyrin noticed it was slowly getting harder and harder to breathe, until her face was completely buried in the woman's pussy and she couldn't get any air anymore, and she had to fight a brief flash of panic tearing through her mind. But Meyrin quickly shoved it down, knowing that this was part of the show and she had a job to do so she continued dutifully licking Widowmaker’s pussy, intent on bringing the other woman as much pleasure as she could.
Hearing Widowmaker's muffled moans, Meyrin continued licking her, even as she felt herself growing lightheaded, but she forced herself to keep going. Despite her sight being practically blocked by Widowmaker's pussy, colourful dark spots bloomed in Meyrin's vision and she tried to gasp for air, only to reflexively swallow instead, getting a good taste of Widowmaker's slightly metallic-tasting juices as her lungs slowly started to burn. Panic flashed through Meyrin's mind once more, far harder to force down this time, and the girl briefly attempted to pry Widowmaker's legs away from her, but the woman held her too tightly and didn't as much as budge before Meyrin caught herself and forced down her body's struggles, even now focussing all her attention purely on Widowmaker's pleasure, who let out another long moan in short order.
Meyrin kept licking Widowmaker's pussy, but despite all of her resolve, eventually the searing feeling in her lungs and the pounding in her head grew too much and she was unable to stop her body's panic reaction any longer. Her arms flailed and she pushed against the chair, trying to free herself, but Widowmaker was far stronger, especially after Meyrin had spent so much energy already, and with a cruel grin the woman locked her legs in place, only pressing Meyrin's face into her pussy even deeper.
By this point Meyrin was almost running on autopilot, still weakly pleasuring Widowmaker the same time she futilely tried to break free, but the bigger part of her just welcomed the fact that her pain would soon be over, while a small voice in the back of her mind noted how without ever touching herself her pussy was well wet and her nipples were completely hard, wishing she’d had the forethought to try rubbing herself - she might have had a chance to cum before the end…
At last, Meyrin could feel herself fading, pouring the last bit of her strength into pushing her tongue deep inside Widowmaker one last time, eliciting a small gasp from the woman, before her strength faded and her struggles subsided, and, her lips curled into one final smile, Meyrin's body fell limp.
As she noticed Meyrin stopped moving, Widowmaker chuckled. “Weak girl.” Looked like she was going to have to take care of her fulfilment herself. After keeping Meyrin's face pressed against her crotch a handful of seconds longer, she loosened her grip a little and reached down to turn the motionless girl around with a little effort, showing her reddened face smeared with Widowmaker's juices, before locking both thighs around her neck again. Maybe she already was dead and this was unnecessary, but regardless Widowmaker started fingering herself with one hand, plunging deep into her pussy while playing with her breast with the other, and after Meyrin's previous efforts only took a few more seconds before she finally climaxed.
Just as she came with a loud moan, Widowmaker tightened her legs around Meyrin's neck even more, arching her back as she swiftly twisted her hip and thighs in opposite directions, breaking Meyrin's neck with an audible crack. Her head tilted at an unnatural angle, the redhead's body briefly shuddered and spasmed before going limp for good, a dark spot of urine forming on her skirt as Widowmaker continued her orgasm, only fanned by the high of taking a life, shivering and shamelessly moaning for several more seconds before finally winding down.
That had been delectable. With a content sigh Widowmaker let go of Meyrin, the girl's body dropping at her feet, as she nodded towards Fang who got the clue and hurried over, pulling her knife as the woman gracefully licked her fingers clean before leaning back in the chair. “Do it.” Widowmaker tilted her head backwards to completely bare her throat and Fang grinned.
“With pleasure.” Without any further fanfare, Fang placed the knife against Widowmaker's neck and in one expert motion dragged the blade all the way across her neck, producing a huge fountain of blood. Yet even now Widowmaker's composure remained, and instead of flailing or struggling she managed to almost keep sitting still, only convulsing very slightly and letting out low gurgling sounds even as a stream of blood ran down her chest. It took about a minute until Widowmaker's movements finally slowed down and she went limp with one last sigh, her blood pooling between her legs and dripping onto Meyrin's body.
Once Widowmaker was completely still, Fang returned to Cynthia's side, gently pushing her to make the blonde woman move over to the other chair, before suddenly throwing an arm around her to drag her into a deep kiss, the other reaching between Cynthia's thighs to find the thin fabric of her pants completely damp in arousal. “Looks like you're ready.” Taking the dildo out of the way, Fang pushed Cynthia into the chair, leaning down to kiss one of her nipples through her dress, making the blonde draw in a sharp breath. Fang swiftly tied Cynthia's wrists and ankles tight to the chair with leather straps, before reaching for the seam of her pants and after a few moments managed to rip the fabric, tearing them open at the crotch to reveal her completely wet pussy.
Briefly kneeling in front of Cynthia, Fang slowly dragged her tongue along her pussy, making the woman shudder in pleasure, as she took as much of her juices with her as she could, before quickly getting up and deeply kissing Cynthia again in order to share her own sweet taste with her. Lightly panting herself, Fang licked the dildo for a few moments, briefly rubbing it on the outside of Cynthia's pussy before spreading her labia and pushing it deep into her, eliciting another moan from the blonde.
Walking behind Cynthia, Fang took a piece of rope threading it through a hole in the backrest of the chair, then around Cynthia's neck, and back through another hole, fastening it to a thin bar of metal. Turning it, Fang tightened the rope until Cynthia's neck was forced right against the backrest, then paused to reach between the woman's legs and flick a switch on the dildo, which started audibly vibrating as Cynthia let out another gasp, briefly closing her eyes in pleasure.
Giving her a few more seconds to herself, Fang started twisting the rope again, and as it started digging into her neck, Cynthia's first reflex was to try and escape, but her restraints held her firmly in place and she quickly caught herself, keeping her body's reaction in check and focussing on the quickly growing pleasure between her legs. Fang kept mercilessly tightening the rope, quickly reducing Cynthia's moans to voiceless gasps, and before long she couldn't help but strain and tense against her bindings, for all the good it did. Her own heartbeat audible in her ears, the edges of Cynthia's vision started to blacken, yet as her pain rapidly grew, by the same order did her pleasure, the sensation of the dildo in her pussy more intense than ever before.
It only took Cynthia another minute to finally reach her climax, her pain all but forgotten as she gasped and shuddered in ecstasy, the unrelenting vibrator in her pussy prolonging her orgasm further and further, her pussy and the chair positively drenched with her juices, until it finally subsided. Just then Fang increased the pressure once more, and Cynthia couldn't control herself anymore, wildly starting to buck and thrash against her restraints, desperately gasping for air. As her struggles continued, Cynthia's agony was soon replaced by numbness and she could feel her strength fading, her movements reduced to weak shudders and rasping gasps, and her vision starting to fade as her body gave up its struggles and darkness washed over her.
With Cynthia’s body twitching its final death spasms, Fang grinned, knowing it was now her turn. She turned to the guillotine, and began to strut over to it, hips swaying seductively, as she slipped the blue cloth off of her shoulder, unraveling it as it dropped to the floor, exposing a set of damp black panties over her crotch. Next came the bra, letting her breasts bounce freely with every step, then she stepped free of her boots, and finally let her panties drop to the floor, kicking them away, so that she reached the guillotine completely naked.
She leaned her back against one of the posts of the guillotine, one leg up on the bascule as she spread her pussy lips suggestively, slipping a hand in for a few seconds, then removing it to slowly lick her fingers clean of her juices, before she climbed onto the device, laying onto the bascule on her back, waving one last time to the audience before she slipped her head through the lunette, closing it around her neck with a click. Staring up at the blade hovering above her, Fang brought her left hand down to her pussy, already dripping wet with arousal, to begin pumping four fingers in and out of her depths while her thumb played with her clit, and her right hand came up to the lever holding the blade in place.
Although she hadn’t touched herself before this point, watching and participating in the other three deaths had already gotten her nice and hot, and it didn’t take much time at all for her to cum, a scream of pleasure escaping her lips as her body shook and shivered, juices spraying from her pussy while her right hand’s twitching pulled the lever - and she could only feel her pleasure grow even higher as she watched the blade release from its fixture as if in slow motion and drop towards her, severing her neck with a thunk, silencing her scream.
Fang’s head fell into a basket, a pleasured haze still filling what was left of her senses, even as she figured her body was shuddering and spasming, a fountain of blood spraying from her neck, and urine joining the juices coming from her pussy. With one final, joyous smile, Fang’s eyes closed as all her senses faded away, welcoming death as it claimed her.
Written in a collaboration with Blau Sturm, iirc he did Meyrin and Fang's parts. I guess once again the story mostly speaks for itself.
(I'm still totally copy-pasting one of these.) Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed, feedback/criticism always appreciated.
n i c e
always good to see con and semi-con <3
[OC; strangling; non-con]
“They're inside, sire.” The captain of my guard salutes as I approach my chambers. “We thoroughly searched them, they didn't have anything on them other than their clothes.” The woman scoffs. “Or what passes as 'clothes' anyways.”
“Well, that's exactly the point, isn't it?” I chuckle. “I should be fine, but please stand guard outside here just in case.”
“Of course. If there is anything, just call for me.”
“Thank you.” I nod and the captain salutes again as I enter the door to find the 'gift' the neighbouring kingdom sent to me, along with a request that was all but a surrender and a plea for peace negotiations. I only got a quick glance at the two girls, wearing some thick travelling cloaks, when they arrived before having some guards – only female ones to avoid any needless …unbecoming behaviour – search them while I read the missive they brought.
But now both of them are sitting on the carpet in front of my large bed, wearing …significantly less. The smaller and younger-looking one on the left, with reddish eyes and blonde hair in a pair of long twintails, is wearing dark blue stockings, rather small black and blue lacy panties, and a dark blue bra of sorts, even if the cloth isn't broad enough to even fully cover her areolae, much less really contain the rest of her large, supple breasts.
Yet the blonde's bust pales in comparison to that of the lavender-haired, purple-eyed girl next to her, wearing white fishnet stockings, red and pink panties, an almost transparent light red camisole around her midriff, and a 'bra' consisting of a few lacy red and white ribbons that don't stand any chance of covering nor containing her frankly huge, soft breasts, only serving as adornments. A fact which she seems well aware of, holding one arm wrapped around her chest right under her bosom to push them up and into full view.
Well if this gift was supposed to raise my mood for peace negotiations, it's clearly on a good way for that, I do prefer some meat on my women – in the correct places, anyways; and these two have it in all the right places. I close the door behind me before sitting in the chair in front of them. “Of course you know who I am.” I start in a conversational tone. “But there's no need for formalities right now, so you may simply address me as 'sire'. What are your names?”
“My name is Kasumi, sire.” The lavender-haired one introduces herself after a moment. Apart from a slight blush on her face, understandable given her state of (un)dress, she seems rather calm and collected.
Whereas the blonde one is visibly more uncomfortable and nervous, her blush much more noticeable, continuously looking around the room and fidgeting with her fingers, taking several moments before realising she has to answer as well. “I-I'm Rei.”
“Very well. And you two are here to broker peace for your kingdom, is that it?”
“We're no diplomats, sire.” Kasumi answers. “We were just sent to appease you so will consider negotiations.”
A plain and honest answer, how refreshing, she is obviously no diplomat or politician. “Well, to tell you the truth, just between the three of us, I too find this war that my predecessor started” only to die in battle years ago and leave me to take over the whole mess “has been going on far too long. And a lot of my people think so too. Yet after all the losses and efforts, I could never just stop and call it off, now could I, much less now that it has finally turned in our favour.”
“In two or three months, at most, I could be standing in your capital and have your queen's head on a pike, but at what cost. How many more soldiers would my country lose for that endeavour?” Both of the girls are smart enough to see the rhetorical question for what it is and remain silent. “So her sending you to me like this with a plea for peace is rather fortunate.” Not to mention her last desperate gambit to save her life and country.
“That's …truly good to hear, sire.” Rei seems to relax a little as she answers after I fall silent.
“However…” I continue after a moment, “To end the bloodshed we might need to spill a little more blood. Do you think my people would be appeased if I had the two of you stripped naked and paraded through the streets before being publicly humiliated and executed in stead of your queen?”
Rei blanches and starts fidgeting again, but after a moment Kasumi answers with a slightly uneven voice. “They…they might.”
“A lot of them would most likely enjoy it, but it would be such a waste, so I'm not going to do that. And more than anything my people are just weary and fed up with the war, so when I decree we will have peace than vengeance, they will follow.” Both girls breathe a sigh of relief, but especially Rei still seems rather wary, and with good reason.
“Yet even if my people won't, I will still take a symbolic vengeance, given as I have this opportunity. Only one of you will leave here alive, to return to your queen and bring message of an armistice and negotiations for her surrender, and then return here to be my maid and concubine.”
“Wh-why would you do this?” Rei asks, with her eyes just short of welling up in tears. “You just said you wanted peace.”
“That I do. But I also want to see how much you want peace. Look at it another way: Surely the both of you still have family somewhere…”
“Y-yes.” Kasumi looks visibly more shaken as well, but still trying to hold on to her composure. “My mother and two younger sisters, they live in the capital.”
“Twin brothers.” Rei adds. “And my aunt and uncle.”
“See? And all these family, along with your friends, and the entire rest of your country, are they not worth your sacrifice? If anything, you'll get to die a lot less gruesomely than a lot of your or my soldiers that are out on the battlefields fighting for the same thing.”
“But, still, I take it neither of you is going to volunteer to give her life, are you?” After a few seconds of silence and exchanging sideways glances, both girls just shake their heads, even the little movement enough to make Kasumi's breasts bounce and sway quite pleasantly.
“Then we will just leave it up to fate.” I produce a large but thin ornate playing coin from the nearby nightstand, quickly showing the girls both different sides. “Call it.”
“H-heads.” Kasumi blurts out after a short moment, and I toss the coin with a beautiful little ping sound, then catch it and place it on the back of my hand, both girls waiting with bated breath as I lift the other hand to reveal…
“Tails.” I turn to Rei, who lets out a long breath. “You will live. …And you get to be the last victim of this war.”
Kasumi takes several moments to react, her lips pressed together as she tries to compose herself before answering in a shaky voice. “If… if that's what it will take to have peace…”
“Well spoken.” Let's see how long that resolve will last her. I get up open the nearby wardrobe quickly finding a soft, but strong silk scarf that I bunch up to throw it to Rei, who reflexively manages to catch it. “Here. Strangle her.”
“Was I unclear? Use the scarf and strangle her to death; or take your hands if you prefer that. Of course you're free to take her place and be strangled instead, but I take you want to live, don't you?”
“Then d-do it.” Kasumi answers in my stead, turning her back to Rei and tilting her head back a little to completely present her throat to the other girl. “We all w-want peace, right, so just make it quick, okay?”
Rei nods, tears welling up in her eyes as she untangles the scarf, wraps it around Kasumi's neck once with shaking hands, then starts pulling it tight. After a few moments Kasumi gasps, her face slowly starting to turn red, but it's not nearly enough.
“Pull it tighter.” I command, and Rei obeys, her hands and arms trembling as the scarf digs deeper into Kasumi's throat, and the girl lets out another gasp, her hands clenching as she has to stop herself from instinctively clawing at the scarf, not that it would do her any good.
Rei quickly starts to sob, her whole body quaking, but to her credit she keeps up her grip on the scarf, and in short order Kasumi's face is completely red, tears starting to run down her cheeks as well as she keeps gasping for air, shuddering in pain as she tries her best to keep herself from wildly struggling.
But of course before long, Kasumi's resolve breaks and she starts straining and fighting harder and harder, her huge breasts heaving and swaying beautifully as she starts pointlessly kicking, her arms clawing at her neck as she starts more frantically gasping, producing desperate hacking noises.
Kasumi's struggles are clearly taking a toll on Rei as well, and by now she's freely crying, and I notice her grip weakening, letting the other girl regain just a little breath. “Don't be cruel. If you let up, you'll only prolong her suffering. Finish her.” Rei takes a moment to realise what I said, but then nods, trembling as she strains to tighten her grip even more, eliciting a pained, coughing gasp from Kasumi, the scarf leaving a deep dent the soft skin of her neck.
As Rei manages to keep up her grip, Kasumi's struggle quickly become more and more uncontrolled, wildly thrashing and flailing – and her breasts mirroring her every movement –, her face deep red and contorted in agony, and her tongue hanging from the side of her mouth; I doubt she is going to last much longer.
And true enough, after a little while longer, Kasumi's struggles start to weaken, reduced to weak gasps and twitches, yet she still holds on for another minute or two before finally giving up, going limp with one last sigh, a dark spot forming in her panties and dripping down her legs onto the floor as she soils herself in death.
“You can stop now, she's dead.” I order Rei a handful of seconds later and she lets go, staring at her shaking hands as it takes another moment for the realisation to fully set in and she breaks down sobbing, burying her head in the side of my bed. I give her a few minutes before reaching for her shoulder to pull her up, and she looks at me with reddened eyes, tears smeared across her face.
“Well done.“Tell the guards they are to bring you to a guest quarter for tonight; tomorrow I will send you back with a message to your queen, she shall have her peace.” Under my conditions of course. “And once you return, I'll make sure the next night you spend in this room will be much more pleasant, for both of us.” Rei takes a moment to react, then just nods and leaves the room, closing the door behind her as I turn to Kasumi's body.
Her face is smudged with tears and a bit of drool on her chin, her eyes still open but her broken gaze staring into nothing. I pull the scarf away to reveal the dark red, almost black, marks all around her neck, forming a relatively clean line, save for a small dent on the front of her throat; and as I squeeze her breasts, they're just as soft and warm as I thought.
As I lift Kasumi's body to place her onto my bed, then take off my pants and shirt before kneeling beside her, I muse how some might say a king having his way with a corpse would be unbecoming or whatever, but it's not like anyone even has to know, and it would be much more of a shame to let her pussy and those breasts just go to waste without anyone making use of them, now would it…
Based off of a prompt in the Killer/Victim thread in /rp/ (hxxps://www.gurochan.cx/rp/res/1864.html#4851 , there's a picture over there too). Obviously this one is current, but I still got a few more older stories I'll continue posting.
(I'm still totally copy-pasting one of these.) Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed, feedback/criticism always appreciated.
Disciplinary action [OC; f/f, f-self, molestation; hanging; non-con, con]
“No way, she really said that?”
“Yeah, I know, what-”
“I am well aware that history is not everyone's favourite subject,” Karen couldn't help a brief smirk as her voice made the two girls flinch, hastily sitting up straight for her to glare at them with a stern expression. “But I would appreciate if you at least kept quiet in class.”
“But Miss Myers,” Brown-haired Alexa protested, “We-”
“Save it. Both of you, see me after class.”
“…Yes, Miss Myers.”
With sheepish expressions both girls returned their attention to their textbooks – or probably the phones they were hiding behind them – and Karen continued. “As I was saying, around 750 AD…
After class was over and everyone else had left, Misha and Alexa were patiently waiting at their desks, but she took her sweet time, leisurely cleaning the whiteboard and packing her bag before walking up to them. “Come with me. Leave you bags here, you can get them on the way back.” Alexa looked like she was about to protest again, but ultimately didn't, and both girls obediently followed Karen down the hallway and into another smaller, windowless classroom, furnished with a couple of desks and an old blackboard.
“Seriously, are all the lights in this room broken?” Karen complained as the majority of the lights in the ceiling failed to turn on altogether as she flicked the switch, leaving the room rather poorly-lit. “Whatever, it will do. Over here.” She gestured for Misha and Alexa to stand in front of the blackboard, quietly closing and locking the door behind her, before briefly searching through a cupboard next to the blackboard. “As you're surely aware, the school rules have been …updated recently, with harsher disciplinary action after three infractions.”
“Please, Miss Myers, all we did was talk a bit. Misha was away all weekend so we just wanted to catch up a little.”
“I know, I know, catching up with your friends is important. Just please not in my class. But not to worry. This will only take a few minutes. Misha, your hands, if you would?”
“Hm? Okay.” With a slightly confused expression Misha held out both her hands – only for Karen to swiftly place a pair of handcuffs around her wrists, then before either of the girls had much time to react, hit the button on the wall to lower a pair of already prepared nooses, placed one around Alexa's neck and pushed the other button to raise that one again, the rope biting deep into her throat as it lifted the surprised girl off her feet within seconds.
“Alexa!” Misha screamed, but Karen easily held her in place as Alexa started gasping and kicking, her incredulous expression quickly shifting into one of pain. “Miss Myers, what are you doing?!”
“As I said.” Karen continued impassively, barely containing her pleasure from watching Alexa struggle, the rope continuing to dig deeper into her slender neck, the girl's fingers desperately clawing at the noose achieving nothing but leave bloody marks on her skin. “Disciplinary action. Instead of this boring stuff like meeting with parents or expulsion, we now just execute disruptive students as a lesson to the rest.”
“What? That's insane! You can't do that! Let Alexa down!” Misha frantically pleaded, tears welling up in her eyes.
“I can, and I won't.” Karen countered, stepping a little closer to Alexa to get a good, close view of her neck, the rather thin rope leaving a deep indentation in her skin, deeply reddened above the noose by this point, as was Alexa's face, as the girl continued struggling and ineffectually gasping for air, and as Karen reached up, trailing her finger along Alexa's neck, feeling the resistance of the plastic rope amidst the soft skin it was noticeably hot as well.
By this point Misha wasn't even trying to fight, seeming frozen in fear and looking to the ground, weakly sobbing, so Karen grabbed her chin to force her to look at Alexa's swinging form. “Look at her. You're going to share her fate soon enough.” As Misha didn't answer save for continued sobbing, instead Karen opened the blouse of the girl's uniform then pulled down her skirt as well to reveal her bra and panties. Pushing up behind her uncomfortably close, Karen reached into Misha's open blouse to squeeze her breast for a few moments before leaning closer so the girl could feel her hot breath against her neck as Karen moved her other hand up, lightly wrapping her fingers around Misha's throat.
“Look at your friend. She's bound to be in so much pain right now.” By this point Karen couldn't keep the arousal out of her voice anymore, but she didn't even care. “Imagine how it's going to feel when the rope digs into your beautiful neck in a few minutes.” She tightened her hand just enough to make Misha gasp and shudder, sobbing even harder.
One hand continuing to play over Misha's breasts, stomach and briefly even reaching down to her crotch, Karen kept caressing the girl's neck with the other, softly kissing it a few times, while still forcing her to look into Alexa's direction. The other girl continued to kick and struggle against the rope, even if she should've realised by now it was futile, but she refused to give in, only prolonging her suffering – and the show she gave, so Karen certainly wouldn't complain.
Ultimately Alexa lasted for multiple more minutes, pointlessly gasping and flailing, before her strength finally started to fade, her struggles slowly weakening and her gasps growing faint as she only kept lightly twitching and shuddering. Before long she went completely limp with one final long rattle and soiling herself, as evidenced by the dark wet spot forming in the front of her skirt.
As she realised what had happened, Misha let out a loud wail, trying to break free from Karen's grip, but the woman rather easily held her in place, and after a couple of seconds of straining against her, all of a sudden Misha just stopped altogether, only faintly sobbing as she looked to the ground, seemingly resigned to her fate.
Karen let go of her, stepping closer to inspect Alexa's body instead, her face and lips close to a dark purple, covered in tears and bits of drool, and her tongue hanging out; as well as the scratch marks on her neck and the thin rope embedded deep into her skin, the dark bruising around it slightly visible on the sides. The view was enough to make Karen shiver in anticipation and pleasure, blatantly rubbing herself through her skirt with one had as she grabbed Misha's shoulder with the other, pulling her to the other noose next to Alexa's body, eliciting another wave of sobs and tears.
Taking a little longer with the noose this time, Karen slipped it over Misha's head, leaning forward to caress and kiss the skin right next to the plastic rope before whispering into the girl's ear as she pulled it backwards to slightly press against Misha's throat. “I wonder how this is going to feel when it bites into your neck with all your weight. Just a few more seconds until you find out…” Roughly groping and squeezing Misha's breast, Karen pressed her lips onto the girl's, forcing her into a brief kiss, her tongue pushing into Misha's mouth for a couple of seconds before pulling back, the sudden assault leaving the girl dumbfounded. Opening the handcuffs to free Misha's hands, Karen placed one final kiss right on the front of the girl's throat, before stepping to the side to activate the button, lifting the noose. “I'm going to enjoy watching you hang.”
Just like Alexa, Misha took a few split seconds to fully register her situation before she started wildly struggling, her sudden energy belying her earlier compliance as she ineffectually tried to grasp the rope but failed to find any purchase against the thin plastic. Misha's desperate choking gasps now the only sound filling the room, Karen stepped back with a content smile, sitting on a desk in front of Misha before spreading her legs and very blatantly reaching under her skirt to start rubbing herself through her panties, hoping the girl would fully realise how her and her friend's slow, painful deaths were turning Karen on.
Regardless if she did or not, Misha wasn't really in any position to do or say anything about it, only continuing to struggle, kick and flail as the rope kept digging deeper into her throat, her face contorted in pain and disbelief. A few moments later, Misha's open blouse slipped over one arm before completely dropping to the ground, leaving her only in her underwear, and the view of the slender girl's fair skin – save for her reddening face and neck – made Karen briefly wish she'd taken the time to fully strip her, but that might have been too much of a hassle, she could still take a closer look afterwards.
Panting and lightly biting her lower lip, Karen's panties were completely wet by this point as she continued intently observing Misha's struggles, idly wrapping a hand around her own throat and squeezing just a little, wondering just how it would feel to have a nice and solid rope wrapped around her own neck… Getting up, she stepped closer to Misha, whose struggles already seemed to be slowly weakening, standing on her tiptoes to place a kiss on her neck, right above the rope cutting deep into her skin.
“Hmm, it hurts, doesn't it? You want nothing more than to breathe. To live.” Karen reached down to slowly trail a finger along the contours of Misha's pussy through her panties, before opening her bra and dropping it to the ground, freeing the girl's somewhat small but firm breasts. “But you won't. You're going to die, just like your friend Alexa. And I'm going to enjoy every last second of it.”
Misha's face seemed to show some defiance still remaining as she let out a rasping cough and tried to kick Karen, but the woman easily sidestepped her with a cruel grin. “Good, keep that spirit. I want to see you last as long as you can.”
Returning to the desk and continuing to rub herself, a small part of Karen kept picturing herself swinging next to the two girls, a noose constricting around her throat as she'd desperately gasp for air, but mostly she was just absorbed in Misha's continued suffering, the girl still hanging on even though her movements were visibly slowing by this point, yet she kept weakly kicking and flailing with everything she had left.
But ultimately it was futile and as Karen was approaching her orgasm, Misha's strength finally waned, and it only took a little longer for her to die, going limp with one last sigh, her final twitches shortly subsiding as she too peed herself, staining her panties wet and a trickle of urine running down her legs and dripping to the floor. And just moments later Karen came, her hand still wrapped around her own neck, cutting off her shameless moans just slightly as she tensed and shivered in her orgasm for several seconds, closing her eyes and arching her back in pleasure, before finally winding down.
After cooling down for a little longer, Karen got up, wiping her hand on her skirt before moving closer to Misha, admiring her beautiful lifeless body and especially the dark strangulation marks on her neck, a small trickle of blood visible to on side where the thin rope had managed to break the skin. With a content sigh Karen took a step back to admire her handiwork, the two girls' motionless bodies swaying slightly at the end of their ropes.
Well, that had been rather delightful for a disciplinary action. Now just to get the proper paperwork filled out, and grab the tape from the surveillance camera for …later use.
After quickly finishing the forms for the punishment of Alexa and Misha, Karen decided to stay a bit longer, seeing as she had this lovely backdrop right now, and get to grading some exams. Starting by throwing out the two that wouldn't be needed anymore, even though a cursory glance showed that despite barely ever paying attention in class, both girls would have scored passable to good, somehow.
But after just a few minutes of trying to focus, Karen realised it was no good. The thought she'd just entertained for a few moments, of being hanged next to the girls and sharing in their agony, kept returning to her, more vividly than it should, instead of focusing on the exams she found her own hand closing around her throat until the pressure made her gasp, and even though she'd had an orgasm barely ten minutes ago, her pussy was well wet again already.
And of course as with any bad idea, once thought, one couldn't un-think it either, and the girls' deaths had just been so fucking hot, so just a few minutes later Karen wasn't even bothering with the exams, leaning back in the chair as she kept rubbing and choking herself to the image of her strung up next to the two, mirroring their desperate, pointless dance in the air.
But after a little while Karen managed to get a hold of herself, forcing both her hands to rest on her legs with a frustrated sigh. She should either do this properly or not at all, not wasting her time on fantasy. Karen wasn't stupid, she knew exactly what following the girls would mean, and there was no way out of the noose on her own; in fact she probably knew a lot more about the actual biological mechanisms of a hanging than she cared to admit. But at the same time the mere thought of actually going along with it sent shivers of pleasure down her spine, and she was all but certain that while hanging she'd be able to get the best orgasm ever.
After several more seconds of indecisiveness, Karen's carnal side finally won out, the inevitable consequences be damned. Standing right in full view of the surveillance camera as a little favour to whoever had to review the footage – though odds were featuring a display like this, it'd end up on the internet in short order too – she stepped out of her heels, dropped her skirt and opened her blouse, before taking off her bra as well to reveal her firm, perky breasts, then finally dropped her still-wet panties, before walking over to the control panel and pushing the button to drop another noose.
Her fingers a little shaky in excitement, Karen held her hair out of the way to slip the noose over her head, swallowing as she felt the slightly cool plastic against her throat. Instead of a hangman's knot, for ease of use the noose consisted of a metal ring on the end of the rope threaded around the rope to form a simple loop, so there was nothing else to prepare, this was her final chance to back out… But Karen hadn't gone this far to quit now, so stretching a little to reach the control panel, she unnecessarily held her breath, counting down from three before pushing the button.
Karen could actually feel the vibrations of the mechanism through the noose as it began lifting her, quickly forcing her onto her tiptoes before lifting her off the ground for good. Her own weight making the noose close around her neck almost completely, for the first few moments the pain wasn't so bad, no worse than how she'd choked herself before, so Karen could actually try and place the sensations according to her anatomical knowledge; obviously the sting in her skin from the thin rope pressing deep into her flesh, then the pressure on her trachea but not enough to close it, and lastly the pressure to both sides was the jugular, which would also be what soon killed her, her head already starting to pound, and her heartbeat overly loud in her ears.
Before long the pain grew too intense for any such idle observations, and Karen could just barely stop herself from reflexively clawing at the noose the way Alexa and Misha had, instead slowly running her finger up her neck, feeling the contrast between the hard rope and her soft skin, unusually hot above the noose as well.
Karen soon couldn't hold back her body's reflexes entirely, starting to futilely gasp and kick, her legs probably flashing quite the good view of her pussy to the camera too. But she gathered herself enough to do what she'd originally set out to do, one hand reaching down to her pussy to push two fingers inside her, her loud moan reduced to a gasp as her body's panic and lack of oxygen seemed to far amplify the sensation.
Her other hand playing with her equally sensitive breasts, Karen had to struggle to keep her body under control, the pain quickly growing far worse than she'd anticipated, her head hammering and her lungs burning for air, but she continued pleasuring herself, the ball of her thumb rubbing over her clit as she kept fucking herself with two fingers, rapidly approaching her orgasm.
And soon enough Karen came, wildly gasping, closing her eyes and shuddering in ecstasy as the pleasure briefly made her forget the pain and impending death, the noose briefly only seeming to serve to leave her weightless, every sensation far more intense than usual. But as with all good things her climax ended way too soon, leaving Karen to fully feel the embrace of the rope once more.
However by this point, most of her remaining strength burnt on her orgasm, Karen thankfully didn't have too much time left to really panic or regret her decision, as she only continued her futile struggles, flailing and gasping for another minute or so before finally feeling her strength fade and her body go limp, a stream of urine running down her legs as the darkness closed in on her mind, finding the strength for one final thought. Worth it.
Written as a request for Angry Mexicans, using the same characters (who are apparently based on some actual classmates and teacher of theirs from high school) and generic 'setting' as another story I did a while ago (>>8839). Originally the story ended with just the two girls, but Karen going and joining them was just too good a setup to pass on.
(I'm still totally copy-pasting one of these.) Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed, feedback/criticism always appreciated.
Day at the Museum - #2 Seppuku [OC; guess what; suicide; con]
Some time later we arrive at a rather minimalistic display, with little more than a small table bearing a bottle and a pair of sheathed Japanese swords, in front of the backdrop of the inside of a very traditional room, complete with rice paper walls and tatami mats on the floor. …I totally know this one.
“A lot of you may already know some of this, but I'm confident you'll learn something new anyways, so please do pay attention.” Kuroba-san, our museum guide starts. “Seppuku, or Harakiri, is a form of ritual suicide by disembowelment traditionally performed by samurai to avoid capture and torture, restore their honour if they felt they brought shame on themselves or failed their lord, as well as mandated as a form of capital punishment for dishonoured samurai.”
“The first recorded instance of seppuku was performed in 1180 by Minamoto no Yorimasa to avoid capture after a lost battle, though likely it had been in used several years before. The more elaborate ritual was only formalised during the 17th century, and though seppuku as a punishment was abolished in 1873, there have been numerous voluntary cases by civilians and military men since then, frequently for similar reasons as the samurai did, or as a form of protest, as late as 2001.”
“The defining characteristic of seppuku is the vertical cutting of the abdomen, or rarely a cross-shaped cut. Early on seppuku was considered far more painful as the samurai would generally cut himself, then remove the blade to either cut his own throat or fall onto the blade to pierce his heart. Later a second was present who would decapitate the samurai instead. During the Edo period seppuku, especially a planned one not performed on the battlefield, evolved into a rather elaborate and detailed ritual usually performed in front of spectators. The samurai would be bathed, dressed in white robes…”
As Kuroba-san continues her explanation I notice a busty redhead girl standing next to me fidgeting with her fingers and tapping her feet, looking back and forth between the display and Kuroba-san. She's not actually going to… Yes, she is. Because as soon as our guide finishes her explanation with a “I don't think we have any volunteers for this one, do we?”, the girl – Luna, right, that's her name – almost jumps forward. “Y-yes. I would like to demonstrate.”
“That's …quite brave. You know this is going to be very painful, are you entirely sure about this?”
“…Yes.” Luna nods after a short moment, and, her professionalism winning out, Kuroba-san just quickly checks the info with Akiyama-sensei, then has Luna accompany her behind the wall of the diorama to prepare her, as the rest of us immediately start talking, wondering why Luna would choose to go with such a messy and painful method instead of waiting for the decapitation exhibit or something.
But since she's not giving any explanation we're left to guess, as a few minutes later Luna steps back out wearing a pure white kimono. Taking a deep bow, she accepts a small cup of sake from Kuroba-san, briefly making a face at the taste – then proceeds to drop the kimono to reveal her completely naked body underneath, fully shaved, um, down there, her large breasts bouncing a little bit as she kneels on a large piece of white cloth, eliciting a wave of murmurs, cheers and catcalls from the class, while Akiyama-sensei just seems slightly annoyed.
Her smirk at the reaction shows that Luna perfectly knows what she's doing as she keeps subtly twisting and stretching to make her breasts jiggle just a bit as Kuroba-san sets up a large slightly curved plexiglass screen to stop most of the blood, then gets into position next to Luna, drawing a katana. “Are you ready?”
In reply Luna just nods, gripping the shorter tanto with a piece of cloth partly around its blade, then takes a deep breath before ramming the blade deep into her stomach, immediately gasping in pain. Her eyes quickly tearing up, Luna quickly drags the blade all the way across her stomach with shaky hands, and I think I can actually see the wound bulge outwards a little and get a brief glimpse of her pinkish intestines before it's flooded with blood, pooling inbetween Luna's legs and soaking the ground around her as several of our classmates wince, and at least one girl turns away with a pale face and a hand in front of her mouth.
Luna tries her best to keep her composure, but she's still a school girl, not a trained warrior, so her face is quite visibly strained and covered in tears, and after a few seconds she starts shuddering and sobbing, her hands holding the blade still in her stomach quavering. “I-it hurts… K-kuroba-san, please…” Luna leans forward, exposing her neck, and Kuroba-san complies, striking with the katana in a seemingly practised motion, cleanly decapitating Luna.
Her sobs instantly cutting off, Luna's head falls forward, landing right in front of the plexiglass screen, and from my spot in the first row I can actually see her eyes and mouth silently move for a few seconds longer, forming into a calm smile before she goes completely still. Meanwhile her body is twitching and jerking around much longer, blood spraying from her severed neck, most – though not all – of which is in fact stopped by the screen, before finally coming to a rest, slumped over forward in an actually kinda dignified position.
After a few moments of dead silence – heh, 'dead' – someone starts clapping, and quickly all of us are as Kuroba-san, who has a few stray blood splatters on her skirt and shoes, takes a bow. “In actual seppuku it was practice for the second to try and only mostly sever the head, leaving it attached by a small bit of tissue, even though here our policy is to go for a complete decapitation instead of risking painful mishaps when trying to be fancy.” She explains a moment later. “In case any of you has gotten some blood on them, over there is a station with soap and disinfectant if you want to clean off.” From the looks of it, nobody got enough on them to worry about disease or whatever, so after a few moments she carries on. “Let's keep going then, cleanup for this mess will be here shortly, let's not get in their way.”
The next exhibit is almost a carbon copy of the precious one, but the room looks a bit more furnished like a living room. Is that… Called it. “While traditionally seppuku was only performed by the male samurai, their wives and women in similar positions had a particular way of suicide to avoid capture and most likely rape by enemy forces as well, called jigai. In it…”
Done as a request for Blau Sturm. This one is an obvious sequel to a story from way back (https://www.gurochan.cx/lit/res/5896.html#6685
), so I may kinda have saved on the exposition/description in this one.
(I'm still totally copy-pasting one of these.) Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed, feedback/criticism always appreciated.
Last Stand [OC; explosives, shooting, some minor others; suicide; con, non-con]
Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out. Luna had been lying in wait, scoped in on the road for a good half hour by now, and while of course the more time she bought for the rest of their troops to regroup and reposition, the better, at the same time the incessant waiting was starting to tear at her nerves more than any combat.
Even if she already knew the outcome; there was no way a single sniper, even in a good position like hers and the ruins of the village around her filled with traps, both real and decoys, would be able to hold off the whole scouting troop. And Luna had seen the video of the last soldier the enemy had captured, the poor girl slowly tortured to death over the course of an hour; she could not let that happen to her, which was why she'd taken one final bullet out of her magazine to put it to the side, that one was for her.
A few minutes later there finally was some movement, a slowly-growing dust cloud accompanying the scout troop as it came into view from between two mountains; looked like they didn't even have enough transports left for the scouts, that was a good sign. Of course Luna could already have opened fire, but at the distance the angle would have given her distance away rather clearly, so she waited until they'd approached the outskirts of the village before taking aim and firing.
The first shot, right between the eyes, splattered a blonde's brain all over the chest of the soldier behind her, before the next one hit that one in the neck, somehow hitting at just the right angle to tear her head clean off. By this point the enemy were scrambling for cover, and Luna's next shot only grazed her target, leaving a bloody wound but tearing off her bikini top, freeing the brunette's rather sizeable breasts as she dove into the next doorway – only for an explosion and the cloud of dust, shrapnel and bits of gore that followed a split second after to show that she'd run afoul of a trap instead.
Just a few moments later another trap went off a few more metres down the road and a blood-splattered redhead stumbled out of the doorway collapsing in the dirt clutching her stomach, crying and shuddering in pain. Luna was tempted to put a bullet into her, but for one she really should be conserving ammo, and two, leaving wounded for the enemy to take care of would only slow them down further – and if they just put down the injured, they'd still be losses just the same, regardless if now or later.
As expected, a few moments later the enemy started to return fire, mostly spraying from behind their cover, but seemingly fooled by one of the decoy mirrors she'd set up on some of the other high buildings in the area – Luna of course not having chosen the most obvious tallest building to hide in, but more like the third tallest – none even aimed anywhere near her, giving Luna time to peek out and hit a petite brunette that had just been about to shout something right through the mouth, as well as taking off another's hand and ruining the rifle she was holding, before diving back behind her own cover.
Quickly moving and peering out from another window with a much better-hidden mirror, Luna could see a pair of soldiers trying to flank her, only to be stopped by a tripwire in a doorway, accompanied by a painfully obvious claymore mine sitting right in the middle of the room. And just as she'd been hoping for, they took the bait, taking cover behind the concrete walls of the doorway, then reaching with some kind of stick to trigger the wire while avoiding the blast. …Only for the much better-hidden mine behind them to go off, mostly shredding the blonde's upper body and one bit of shrapnel gouging a huge chunk out of the dark-haired one's head, exposing bits of her brain, the wall in front of them covered in blood.
Even though the traps and decoys were clearly slowing them down, and Luna managed to take out several more, slowly but surely the enemy were zeroing in on her position, advancing under bursts of covering fire, and Luna herself had taken a grazing shot to her left arm; it really was only a matter of time. Not to mention her ammo was slowly running low, even if practically every single shot was a hit, if not kill.
Just now Luna hit a tall dark-skinned woman through the side of the car she'd been using as cover, the bullet piercing through her breast and lung, most definitely taking her out of the fight. The return fire, by now clearly aware of her position, made Luna return to cover, cursing as she felt a chipped-off bit of stone hit her face, leaving a painful cut on her cheek. Quickly moving to another window, she hit a brunette that was just starting to advance right in the temple, spraying her brain all over the road, not even waiting for the return fire to swiftly reposition once more, counting her remaining ammo as she reloaded.
Not even a full magazine left. Not good. But then, she'd known it was gonna end this way from the start, hadn't she? Though of course Luna was still going to take as many with them as she could, as Luna peeked out to land a shot on an inconspicuous barrel just as three soldiers were passing it, activating the rather sensitive trigger and the huge amount of explosives that had been hidden in there. The blast, and accompanying load of shrapnel, all but tore apart the redhead closest to the barrel, the shockwave throwing the blonde clear across the road and against a wall where she crumpled into a lifeless heap, her neck bent at a sickening angle, and the third, Asian-looking, one sank onto her knees before collapsing, a large jagged piece of metal jutting from her eye, a puddle of urine forming between her legs a moment later.
Changing positions again, Luna lined up a shot on a busty blonde that was sprinting for the next bit of cover, but apparently this time someone had predicted where she'd peek out, and the very quick return fire made Luna flinch just as she pulled the trigger and instead of the head or even just the chest, the shot hit the blonde right in the crotch, falling to her knees with a shrill scream, making Luna wince; she really hadn't meant to hit her there. Luna briefly considered putting her out of her misery as she slowly crawled to cover, one hand clutching her injury, but ultimately her lack of ammo won out over her empathy, and if the shot had missed the aorta, odds were she'd live.
A couple times Luna spotted a buxom blonde with a long ponytail wearing some insignia on her shoulders, probably the leader of the squad; but the woman was being smart about her cover and when she peeked out so Luna never got a clear shot, and the one time she almost did, she wound up blasting open the head of the soldier right next to her, covering her chest with bits of brain and gore, which hardly even seemed to faze the captain either.
In a brief pause in the fire Luna could see a pair of soldiers rush into a long building to her left leading quite close to the one she was holed up in …but that was also why it was rather deviously trapped, so she didn't pay them any attention just now, instead shooting a careless slender blonde right in the middle of her stomach, sending her to the ground clutching her injury, slowly stopping moving as she bled out a couple of seconds later.
Just as expected a little bit later there was a crashing sound followed by a blast from the building to her left, and as Luna shifted her position to get a better look she saw the petite redhead had been half crushed by a collapsing stairwell as well as impaled on a piece of rebar jutting from the rubble. A few seconds later the other soldier, a busty dark-haired one, stumbled onto the street, her stomach almost undamaged thanks to some kind of cover most likely, but her huge breasts torn to bloody shreds by the blast and shrapnel, collapsing into a pool of blood before quickly going limp. …Talk about giving a whole new meaning to the word booby trap.
At the same time a blue-haired one – how had she gotten that past regulations? – leaned out from cover preparing to throw something, Luna hit her straight in the chest and she collapsed, coughing up blood, but not before having loosed a grenade. It actually hit precisely the window Luna had been standing behind, forcing her to leap away from it across the room, painfully scraping her hands and knees on the rough ground as she turned her back to the blast to minimise the damage, but still taking several rather painful burns and cuts, the shockwave leaving her ears ringing.
But fortunately it hadn't triggered any of the explosives she had set up here for her finale and final 'screw you' to her enemies, so Luna picked up her rifle again, repositioning and firing to take a brunette's leg off at the knee, but when she lined up her shot on a lanky blonde talking into a two-way radio,click. Out of ammo. Well, fuck.
Loading the final bullet she'd set aside for herself, Luna double-checked the detonator connected to her sendoff surprise, and then waited. No need to give the enemy an all-clear too early, they didn't know she was out of ammo, keep them on their toes for as long as possible. The ruse seemed to work for a little while longer, but ultimately the enemy advanced on her position rather quickly, stopping with the return fire, clearly intent on capturing her instead, and a little later the first soldiers entered the ground floor of the building.
This was it. She'd bought as much time as she could, and the traps would surely add some more delay, but for Luna this was the end of the road, and she would not let herself fall into enemy hands alive. Kneeling down with her back against a wall, Luna activated the time-delayed detonator that would hopefully let her take a few more along with her, detached part of the barrel of her rifle to get it to a manageable length, then placed the muzzle against her chest right between her breasts, steadying it with one hand, pointlessly holding her breath and closing her eyes as the other pulled the trigger.
BANG. Luna could actually feel the shockwave of the bullet through her whole body as it entered through her sternum, tearing a massive exit wound in her back, the searing pain setting in a split second later, making Luna tear up and bite back an agonised scream. The blast somehow having torn off her bikini top as well, not that that really mattered much to her anymore, Luna could feel the blood pouring from both the entry and exit wounds, quickly pooling under her, as well as dripping from her mouth as her strength already started to fade.
Placing her rifle beside her, Luna did her best to remain as calm and dignified as she could, only weakly sobbing and shuddering in pain as she just sat still, waiting for death to claim her. It didn't take long at all for her body to grow cold as everything around her became hazy and diffuse, but Luna managed one final faint smile, her mission fulfilled to her fullest extent, before soon everything went dark
Seeing as her troops were still clearing the lower levels of the building, the single shot from the top floor could only mean one thing. Catherine smirked at the sniper shooting herself before letting herself get captured; good call, after the hell she'd made them go through to get to her, the remains of the squad would have been quite vindictive in slowly executing her. “We're clear. Enemy forces neutralised.” She announced through the comms. “Dispose of anyone too wounded to walk, then form up with me.”
As her soldiers hurried to comply, multiple gunshots and suddenly-stopping screams vaguely audible, with a faint smile Catherine noted how it was moments like these that showed the true soldiers from the cowards. Like the brunette that was missing her lower leg still resisting, forcing one soldier to kick her to the ground while another knelt on her back and with an audible crack snapped her neck; whereas a few steps further a blonde leaning against a wall with a large bloody wound in a rather sensitive area, breathing shallowly, weakly saluted before pulling out her own sidearm and with only slightly shaky fingers placed it in her mouth before calmly pulling the trigger, spraying the wall behind her with her blood and brains. After the body had stopped twitching, a puddle of urine mixed with blood pooling inbetween her legs, Catherine reached for one of her dog tags, for this display that one deserved a posthumous commendation.
Not that it actually mattered, but Catherine wanted to at least see the face of the sniper that had given them so much trouble, so she entered the building, catching up to the troops that had been quickly securing the stairwell, just in time for them to open the single door at the very top, stepping back to let her enter first, and Catherine carefully approached the body of their fallen adversary to inspect her.
The busty redhead, bearing multiple smaller wounds from their prolonged firefight, was slumped against the wall in a huge puddle of blood, the large bullet wound right in the middle of her chest and the huge spray of blood and gore on the wall behind her making the cause of death rather obvious, her top torn off by the blast to reveal her sizeable, supple breasts, the front of her shorts stained with urine. A shame, they could have had quite some fun with her.
However after all the traps littering the area, Catherine really would have expected something more as a final 'fuck you'- there was a small detonator lying next to her left hand, connected to some bit of wire running into a large pile of rubble right next to her, which was all that Catherine needed to know they didn't want to be here right now. “Fuck. Bomb! Everyone get out!”
To their credit all her soldiers immediately started rushing down the stairs, yet by now it was already to late, as they were only a couple of floors down before the first explosion shook the building, followed by another closer one, then one from below them. This whole fucking house had been rigged as a deathtrap, and they'd blundered right into it. Instead of the stairs, Catherine kicked open a door at the next landing, making a dash for the closest window instead, her odds of living a ten-metre jump were still better than inside a collapsing building.
However before she could actually reach the window, the floor behind her gave way and Catherine fell, painfully landing on her back one story below, and when she tried to get up she found her leg pinned under a bulky fallen wardrobe. But before she could even start trying to free herself, there was another blast above her and Catherine reflexively – and futilely – shielded her face with her arms, the last thing she saw a massive chunk of concrete falling straight towards her head.
Written as a request for Blau Sturm (again. I had to get my ideas somewhere while gurochan was down, after all). Iirc Luna shooting herself like this was inspired by some image/set on pixiv featuring just that (but some other character). I'm not 100% sure how well I pulled of these quicker, more unpersonal combat deaths, but I hope I did okay.
(I'm still totally copy-pasting one of these.) Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed, feedback/criticism always appreciated.
These are all great! I loved the most recent "Last Stand" story. Thanks.
[Code Geass; m/f, rape; garotting, shooting; necrophilia; non-con]
“Move it, we don't have all day.” The soldier walking behind her pushed Kallen forward and she almost stumbled and fell, but, her hands tied behind her back, all she could do in turn was shoot a hateful glare at him.
“Fuck you! If I-”
“Don't bother.” C.C. interrupted her. “Picking a fight now is pointless.” How could the green-haired girl in front of her still be so calm? They were literally being walked to their deaths right now! After the two's capture by enemy soldiers after an ambush, the trial had been little but a farce, the judge condemning both to a public and shameful death as soon as the charges were read.
But at the same time C.C. was right; antagonising the soldiers now would only make them even more spiteful, better try and preserve what little dignity she might keep. Just a minute or so later they entered the square in front of the prison, almost completely filled with a crowd eager to watch, and a raised wooden platform in the centre, holding nothing but some sort of pole with a board jutting out of it at around knee-height.
Apparently their charges and verdict had already been read, as the soldiers waiting on the platform didn't waste any time on formalities, one grabbing Kallen's arms to hold her in place, while another pushed C.C. to the pole by her shoulders, untying her hands and forcing her to sit on the small board before pulling a piece of rope around her neck and fastening it to a long handle on the back side of the pole. Before the green-haired girl could even fully register what happened, the soldier started turning the handle and tightening the rope, forcing her head against the pole before quickly beginning to dig into her throat, cutting off her breath.
“C.C.!” Kallen reflexively tried to rush to the other girl's side and help her, even knowing full well there was no point, but the soldier standing behind her easily held her in place.
“Don't be so hasty, sweetie, you'll get your turn soon enough.”
“Fuck you!” Kallen was powerless to do anything against the rope slowly tightening around C.C.'s neck, the green-haired girl still keeping most of her composure, even as her breaths were starting to sound rather strained and her face slowly turning red. However before long she started to more frantically gasp for air and ineffectually strain against the garotte as if trying to break free, her hands trying to pry away the rope, but to no avail.
Under the continued cheering of the crowd, the soldier kept strangling C.C., her struggles only slowly growing in strength as she more and more desperately, and futilely, tried to break free, tears streaming down her cheeks and her face contorted in agony. Kallen wanted nothing more than to look away, knowing that she was likely to share the same fate, yet she forced herself not to, observing every bit of C.C.'s suffering just so the other girl would have at least someone there with her in her last moments.
And it seemed like C.C's ordeal was about to end, as she slowly seemed to be losing strength, her struggles weakening and her face pretty much blue by this point, but she was still holding on, gasping for air and straining against the rope. Suddenly with a choked noise almost like a scream, she tried to break free with all her might, arching her back and only standing on the tips of her feet for a couple seconds, before sinking back against the pole having wasted her final bit of strength, and only a few moments later going limp for good with one final sigh, a dark spot forming on the front of her uniform and a bit of urine dripping to the floor between her legs, eliciting a wave of laughter and jeers from the crowd.
After tightening the rope a few more times and waiting a couple seconds to make sure C.C. was completely gone, the soldier walked up to Kallen, grabbing her shoulders to force her onto her knees in front of him. “That's the end we have in stock for rebels like you. But I'm in a good mood today, so perhaps I might decide to spare you. Oh, you'll still go to prison of course, but it'll be a real, friendly prison, not the hellhole you stayed in so far. All you have to do is do me a small favour, or would you rather share your friend's fate?”
Part of Kallen wanted nothing more than to defy this asshole even now and face her death with dignity, but the bigger part of her was also terrified of how agonising – and completely undignified – C.C.'s death had been. And besides, as long as she lived, there was still a chance to escape, and get payback on all these fuckers. “What do you want?”
“Oh, nothing big. Especially compared to me letting you live. Just a quick blowjob.”
“…O-out here, in public?”
“Your friend got to die and piss herself in public.” The soldier gestured over to C.C.'s body, her tongue hanging out of the corner of her mouth dripping some drool over her chin, but her expression showing the fear and agony she'd felt in her last moments. “Surely you can handle some dick.” He opened his pants to pull out his already hard dick, then drew a gun from his holster, levelling it at Kallen's head and making her shy away. “Or you can die like the rebel whore you are.”
This was going to be so humiliating, but at the same time it was her only way out of here, so it wasn't like Kallen actually had a choice. “O-okay…”
“Good choice, sweetie.” The soldier grinned, holstering his gun again. “Now let's see those tits of yours.” With her hands tied, and another soldier right behind her, Kallen couldn't do anything to stop the man from roughly opening her jacket and folding it to the side, then tearing away her dark red bra, baring her moderately-sized, firm breasts, to the cheers and catcalls from the audience, and she had to fight back the tears of shame welling up in her eyes.
“L-let's just get this over with…” Kallen opened her mouth, slowly leaning forward and closing her lips around his dick; thankfully he wasn't overly smelly or dirty, so this was going to be humiliating but not too disgusting at least. Moving her head back and forth, she began sucking him, her tongue playing around the tip, just hoping to get him to finish as soon as possible so he'd just leave her alone.
“Come on, whore, deeper.” The soldier grunted after a short while, his voice audibly strained, and Kallen complied, taking his dick into her mouth as far as she could, briefly slowing down and suppressing a gag reflex whenever it got near the back of her throat. Closing her eyes and trying to blind out the noise of the audience, and as much of her situation as she could, Kallen continued sucking him, and the soldier's breath slowly increasing told her he probably wasn't too far now.
And indeed, soon enough the soldier tensed and groaned, his dick shuddering before spurting his salty, warm cum into her mouth and Kallen had to stop herself from gagging as it hit the back of her throat, reflexively pulling back and closing her eyes as she took it all over her face instead. This was still disgusting and humiliating, but at least she'd done what he wanted, right? After a couple of seconds the soldier seemed to stop and wind down, and Kallen opened her eyes, trying to wipe off the mess he'd left on her face – and froze when the soldier suddenly drew his pistol again, reloading it with a conspicuous click. “Not bad, whore. For that you get to die quickly.”
“B-but I did what you wanted from me!” Kallen tried to squirm away or even jump up, but the guard standing behind her was easily holding her in place.
The soldier let out a dark laugh. “Did you really think I was gonna spare you just for that? I'm not going against a verdict like this, I'm not crazy.”
“But you said…” By this point Kallen couldn't hold back her tears of fear anymore, had she really humiliated herself like this just before her death for nothing? She didn't want to die!
“Guess what?” The soldier levelled the pistol at Kallen's forehead, but she unblinkingly glared back at him, gritting her teeth, if nothing else she was gonna face her death with what little dignity she had left. “I lied.”
“Please don-” Bang. The soldier pulled the trigger and before she could even really register the sound and the muzzle flash, the bullet went straight through Kallen's forehead, the force of the impact throwing back her head as she fell over backwards, her eyes vacant in an instant and her body only shuddering in its death throes for a couple of seconds before going still.
After a pair of soldiers lifted up each of the bodies by their arms for the audience to see and cheer, Kallen's and C.C.'s corpses were brought back inside the prison courtyard to both finalise their humiliation and reward the soldiers that had captured them. The captain leading the squad, who had also been the one to execute them, got first pick, taking off C.C.'s uniform and tearing away her underwear to reveal her breasts, a bit smaller than Kallen's but nice and firm, and her completely smooth pussy.
Wasting little time, he knelt in front of C.C. to lift her hips, then started fucking her hard and fast, one of his hands wandering over her body to grope her breasts and ass, and inspect the dark red strangulation marks on her neck, cumming within short order and filling up her pussy. After pulling out to leave her dripping with his cum, the captain moved aside to finally let his men have a go as well.
Two of the soldiers started fucking C.C. at the same time, one in her pussy and one in her ass, while two others had similarly undressed Kallen, making fun of the small wet stain visible in her panties, then one started fucking her pussy while the other sat on her chest, using her breasts for a titfuck. Before too long all the men finished, leaving both girl's pussies and assholes, as well as Kallen's chest, covered in even more cum.
The next two spitroasted C.C., one fucking her – apparently particularly tight – ass, while the other used her mouth, and two more having a go at Kallen, one making her body ride him as he fucked her up the ass, while the other fucked her mouth as well, her cum-stained breasts bouncing and swaying quite nicely with their movements. After the men left both of the girls' assholes filled with even more cum, as well as their mouths, bits of it dripping over their lips and chins, the captain briefly stopped the last few, drawing a long knife and kneeling next to the bodies to swiftly saw their heads off, the stumps still oozing blood, not nearly as much as one might have expected, but still enough to pool into red puddles under their necks.
Stepping aside again, the captain let the remaining of his men at the bodies, after a moment of discussion two of them picking up the severed heads and fucking them deep into their throats, while one other fucked Kallen's body, groping her breasts the whole time, and the last one turned C.C.'s body around to place her on her hands and knees, fucking her pussy from behind. Once all of them were done as well, leaving the girls' pussies, mouths and even severed stumps of their heads covered and dripping with yet more cum, after a short pause the naked and cum-stained bodies were brought back outside to be put on display.
Both of them were impaled on stakes near the town square, Kallen's body straight through her pussy and out of her neck, whereas C.C.'s ended up a little more uneven through the ass, but the spike protruding from right between her breasts instead. Their legs were spread apart and out of the way to perfectly show their pussies, both to add to their humiliation and to show the amount of sticky white covering them, and finally their heads were placed on spikes right besides the bodies, with signs proclaiming that theirs would be the fate of any rebel and terrorist.
Written as a commission (which I do too) for seekerdream (for whom I also proofread a story they posted here). Based on some image set that went just like this, with only some artistic license, iirc. I don't know Code Geass, but apparently in canon C.C. is some kind of immortal; but in this one she, well, isn't.
(I'm still totally copy-pasting one of these.) Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed, feedback/criticism always appreciated.
Merciless [Overwatch; strangling; non-con]
Hm, whoever might that be? The loud knock on the door made Angela pause and look up. She'd just been about to get changed and then go to bed, so right now she was only wearing underwear; but at this time of day, even if it was one of her colleagues from the conference she was attending this weekend, it'd hardly be for professional reasons. So after a moment's deliberation she didn't bother getting dressed again and just headed for the door, after all the human body was something beautiful, not to hide or be ashamed of.
And besides, while the former in particular was a little fancy and lacy, her pure white bra and panties were conservative enough, not revealing any more than any underwear did. So worst case her guest would be awkward or offended and she'd just quickly throw over her jacket hanging beside the door, but best case her state of (un)dress would serve to break the ice, perhaps allowing for a much more …enjoyable night for both of them. “Yes, what-”
However the person waiting for her at the door was one of the last Angela would have expected, and she most definitely was not after a romantic evening. “…Amélie?”
“Bonjour, Angela.” Amélie's …no, Widowmaker's lips twisted into a cruel smirk and just a split second later she jabbed forward with her hand, slamming her palm against Angela's sternum before she had any time to even make sense of the situation, sending her stumbling backwards, gasping for breath as Widowmaker swiftly entered the room, slamming the door shut behind her.
Clutching her chest and trying to steady her breathing, Angela held her other hand in front of her defensively. “Wh-what are you…” Even though she was smart enough to guess at the obvious answer.
“You are becoming a liability for Talon.” The violet-skinned taller woman – the height difference only emphasised by her heeled boots – seemed to swiftly look over the small hotel room Angela was staying in as she impassively answered. “So they sent me to make use of this opportunity to eliminate you. Simple, non?”
Even if she'd been expecting it, hearing those words in the voice of her former friend still deeply stung Angela. …But this was not the time. Her mind racing, she searched for a way out, ideally one without any bloodshed. However that most likely wouldn't be an option. There was no reasoning with Amé- Widowmaker, her Caduceus was recharging in its station across the room, but neither it nor the Valkyrie suit would do her much good now, there was no way Angela would be able to stand up against Widowmaker in hand-to-hand combat, so that only left her sidearm, that she'd only taken at the insistence of several Overwatch members, hidden under her pillow. Those two steps might as well have been kilometres, but it looked like this still was her best, possibly only, course of action to-
“Don't even think about it.” However apparently Angela's train of thought had been obvious, or the assassin had just run out of patience, as all of a sudden Widowmaker turned and in a fluid motion kicked, slamming her foot into Angela's stomach with enough force to take her breath away and send her crashing backwards into the chair in front of her desk, slumping onto it in a – more or less – sitting position.
Reflexively trying to gasp for air as her lungs seized up from the impact, Angela struggled to get up again, noting a small trickle of blood on her stomach where the thin heel of Widowmaker's boot had broken her skin, but before she could make any real effort to stand up, Widowmaker's knee pressed against her crotch held her down as the woman pushed her back into the chair, leaning close enough that Angela could feel her – atypically cold – breath against her cheek.
“C'est inutile.” Where Amélie had used to wear a lovely lilac perfume, Widowmaker only faintly smelled of her suit's latex, and a trace of some bitter, medicinal scent, and the touch of her cold hands against Angela's bare skin made the medic shudder as she tried to squirm away, but couldn't. “You always were a healer, not a fighter, mon ange.” Hearing that old affectionate nickname in the woman's new, emotionless, voice made Angela surge, trying to push her off her with both arms, but Widowmaker bent and twisted her upped body to the side just enough that most of Angela's force was wasted, before in turn ramming a fist into her stomach yet again, the strike pulling away her bra in just the way to reveal part of her left breast, but that little wardrobe malfunction was the absolute least of either woman's concern right now.
Swiftly getting up to stand behind the chair while Angela was still incapacitated, clutching her chest and struggling to breathe once more, Widowmaker opened the grappling hook she was wearing on her left arm, pulling out a length of the wire and wrapping the ends around each of her hands several times to hold it in steady – before wrapping the rope around Angela's neck and pulling it tight.
Still trying to catch herself, Angela was completely defenceless, her already ragged breath cutting off into voiceless gasps as Widowmaker started strangling her, reflexively reaching for the thin wire painfully digging into her neck, but of course failing to grasp it, and Widowmaker let out a dark chuckle in response. Angela knew enough about strangulation trauma, even if she'd thankfully rarely had to deal with it, to tell that she had a few minutes at best, so she had to think of something, quick.
Given the position they were in, there was no way Angela would overpower Widowmaker and break away, and even if she could, what was much more likely to give way first was her throat, and with a crushed larynx she wouldn't get very far, so that was not an option. Instead, trying to force down her body's panic reaction and instinctive shudders, Angela waited for a brief moment to gauge Widowmaker's position behind her, before suddenly lashing out with her fist, painfully clipping the metal of her arachnoid visor with her knuckles, but not landing enough of a hit for Widowmaker to even budge.
If anything, the woman strengthened her grip, pulling further back until the pressure on her neck forced Angela to tilt her head backwards, laying on top of the chair's headrest and looking at the ceiling. Her position only worsened by her efforts, the medic panickedly searched for some way to either call for help or free herself, but nothing was within reach of her frantically grasping hands or flailing feet. Before long the pain in her neck, that had quickly been spreading to her head and lungs as well, made Angela tear up as she gave in to her reflexes to ineffectually gasp for air and pointlessly claw at the rope around her throat, if anything serving to leave bloody scratch marks on her skin instead.
“I always admired your determination, tu sais?” Widowmaker's mocking voice sounded dull and muffled to Angela, and her vision was beginning to fade around the edges, colourful dark spots seeming to grow on the plain white ceiling above her. “But it's futile. Just give in, ange.” Through the haze filling her mind and the pain flooding her whole body by this point, Angela grit her teeth, struggling and trying to break free with all of her strength, in pure defiance of her would-be-killer, but still to no avail, if anything, all she achieved was the wire cutting into her throat even deeper as Widowmaker let out another cruel chuckle.
Crying, gasping and shuddering in agony, barely aware of her tongue hanging from the side of her mouth, dripping bits of drool down her chin, Angela knew that her body's struggle were mostly instinct by now, the realisation slowly setting in that, yes, she was going to die here if something didn't happen very soon. Yet as they said, hope died last, so even as her body continued its futile struggles for multiple more minutes, though slowly losing in strength, Angela hung on as long as she could, refusing to give in until the darkness that had been steadily clouding her vision and mind finally was too much, and she all but went limp with one final sigh, a bit of urine staining the front of her panties, as the darkness finally swept over her, taking away the pain and everything
Noticing how Angela went limp with one last gasp, her eyes rolling back and her body only weakly shuddering for a few seconds longer, Widowmaker nonetheless kept up her grip around the woman's throat for a few minutes longer to be entirely sure before finally letting go, returning the wire to her grappling gun. It was done. Deep down a small part of her felt something that might have been regret, but she pushed it aside; Angela had known the risks well enough, yet returned to Overwatch anyways, she'd made her choice.
Leaning closer to the body, Widowmaker took a few moments to inspect her handiwork, slowly tracing a finger along the side of Angela's neck, over the thin but deep dark red marks of the wire, her skin above them noticeably warmer to the touch and darkened in an almost purple hue, as was her face, her expression frozen in fear and agony, broken eyes gazing past the ceiling and her makeup smudged with tears and drool.
“A pity it had to end like this. Adieu, mon ange.” Brushing a hand over the medic's eyes to close them, Widowmaker tore her gaze away from Angela's body, quickly looking over the room to pick up the Caduceus staff and the case holding the Valkyrie suit, before radioing for a pickup, leaving the room and closing the door behind her. And if this was just the beginning, who knew, maybe she'd get to meet some more old 'friends' soon…
Inspired by some comment and pictures set to me by Angry Mexicans. This is more or less the canon setting, except Talon/Widowmaker is actually effective. So I guess you could consider this in continuity with both my previous Overwatch stories ( >>5926
), but it's not like that makes a huge difference here.
(I'm still totally copy-pasting one of these.) Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed, feedback/criticism always appreciated.
It’s pretty great to see some well written, non-con snuff stories here, so I hope you keep at it. I’d like to see more wounding of the chest and abdomen though, rather than so many head wounds and strangulation.
Asphyxia/hanging is like my number one appeal, as well as being requested a whole bunch, so I would write a lot of that. But I can totally do a gutting/stabbing/etc; if maybe you wanna suggest a somewhat more specific idea. (Preferably catch me on discord, Eterya #2731, so as to avoid cluttering the thread with the back-and-forth on an idea as happened with the first one.)
Game Over [Overwatch; hanging, smothering, strangling; multiple endings; non-con]
Got you. That's the culprit. With a triumphant grin Hana pulled the small chunk of crushed metal out of her mech's joint actuator that had made its arm suddenly lock up. Only during routine maintenance and not in the field, fortunately, but still it had taken way longer for her to fix than she would've liked, it was probably way late in the evening by now, and most of the others had already left.
Oh, well; tomorrow was mostly downtime anyways, so she could just stream for an hour or two to relax before going to bed. Putting the piece of metal into her pockets, because according to the engineers even some bit of scrap could still give useful information and they got kinda pissy if you just threw it out, Hana wiped the sweat off her forehead with her arm, but mostly only succeeded in evenly smearing the spots of grease and dirt still covering her hands and arms.
What was it with the air conditioning in here anyways? Sure the mechs had optimal operating conditions, but this was way too hot, even though she was wearing little more than the lower half of her pilot suit and a black sports bra broad enough to almost pass off as a tank top, Hana was still sweaty, and it wasn't like she'd done some super taxing work right now. …Okay, so maybe a shower first.
Picking up a nearby towel, Hana – halfway – properly wiped off her hands, then left the towel hanging over her shoulder as she searched for the proper wrench to at least loosely reattach MEKA's armour plates over night, she could do the fine-tuning and testing tomorrow, right now she kinda just wanted to call it a day.
However just as she'd halfway reattached the first of the pink chunks of hull Hana heard steps – heels, from the sound of it – echoing through the almost silent depot. Had Yuna forgotten something? Or was someone from command gonna come and yell at her for staying at base so long? Hana turned around to see who- “You're- What the fuck? How did you get in here?”
“Bonsoir, D.Va.” The tall purple-skinned woman with the haughty accent, wearing a rather form-fitting and revealing dark and purple latex suit, leisurely striding towards Hana was unmistakeable. “An …acquaintance disabled all your alarms and security, she said it was a piece of cake.”
“What? No way, we have some of the best encryption on the planet.” They had to, or the mechs or their communication would too easily be jammed or compromised by the Omnics in battle. “What do you want here?” Even though she could hazard a guess, and Hana reflexively took a defensive stance, noting how the large, heavy wrench she was still holding would make for a decent improvised weapon.
“What do you think, little girl?” Widowmaker came to a halt just outside of Hana's reach. “Talon only has to benefit from more instability in this area, and what better way than to eliminate the star of their defence force.”
The line, that could have been straight from some thriller or spy game, took a brief moment to fully sink in, and Hana clenched her hand around the wrench. This chick was actually here to kill her, and it didn't seem like flight was really an option by now, so that only left fight. “Oh yeah, then fucking come and get me!”
“As you wish.” Seeming not overly impressed by the one-liner, Widowmaker smirked as she suddenly darted forwards, aiming a karate chop at Hana's neck, but from that distance away, Hana could easily take a half step and redirect the strike with her open palm before shifting her momentum in the other direction to spin back around, aiming right at Widowmaker's face with the wrench. Kinda brutal, yeah, but the woman had just clearly stated her intent to murder Hana, so all bets were off.
However the strike didn't even connect to her head, as Widowmaker was fast enough to bring up both arms in front of her face to take the brunt of the attack, and Hana thought she could actually hear a faint crunching noise as it connected, wincing in empathy, but Widowmaker didn't even seem to register the hit. Instead she twisted her left arm to grab Hana's wrist – in the process clearly showing the wound on her forearm that was slowly oozing dark red blood – and then suddenly pulled her forwards, at the same time raising her knee, to smash it right against Hana's solarplexus, completely taking her breath away as she lost her grip on the wrench, clattering onto the floor.
Widowmaker immediately followed up, placing a hand against Hana's chest to swiftly push her backwards, painfully slamming her against the wall besides MEKA as the girl barely managed to catch her breath enough to speak. “F-fucking stop it, …crazy bitch.”
“It is pointless, little girl.” Widowmaker chuckled as she held Hana's wrist with one arm, the second pinning her chest and other arm against the wall, as she leaned rather too close to comfort to Hana, carrying with her a faint sharp smell of antiseptic or something. “Tu as fini.”
Widowmaker abruptly grabbed both of Hana's shoulders, pulling her forward to brutally slam her knee into her stomach again, and the girl doubled over, sinking onto her hands and knees coughing and gasping. While Hana was still struggling to regain her breath, Widowmaker swiftly took off her grappling gauntlet, hooked it behind MEKA's leg joint, then pulled out a length of its wire to throw it over the raised arm of the mech Hana had been working on.
Fashioning the end into a simple loop, she placed it over Hana's head right as the girl was staggering to her feet again, giving her just enough time for the realisation to set in and a panicked “No, don't-” before Widowmaker activated the grappling hook, easily lifting the – rather slender and light – girl off her feet. Her voice cut off into a choked gasp, Hana reached for her neck, trying to loosen the rope suddenly cutting into her throat as her legs instinctively started kicking, searching for the ground that was suddenly out of reach.
After watching the girl's quickly growing struggles for a few moments, following an impulse, Widowmaker stepped closer to her, reaching for her top and pulling it up to almost completely bare Hana's slightly small, but firm, youthful breasts with small pink areolae, despite the situation eliciting a reflexive blush and the girl trying to kick her with an angry growl, but Widowmaker easily dodged the attack, taking a step back, just out of Hana's reach, to keep observing her victim's continued struggles.
Her hands failing to find any purchase against the thin rope digging painfully deep into her neck, Hana nonetheless kept clawing at it, her body instinctively twisting and squirming, trying to somehow take some weight off her neck, but to no avail, and her legs uselessly kicking and flailing, making her sway back and forth a little on the end of the rope.
The pressure in her head and the pain in her chest quickly growing from bad to unbearable, Hana couldn't stop herself from continuing to thrash and struggle, desperately gasping for air and soon starting to cry, the tears feeling inordinately hot on her cheeks, as Widowmaker just kept watching her with that impassive, cruel expression.
Hana's struggles continued for several more minutes, her pain only growing ever worse, as her limbs slowly started going numb, yet her lungs felt as if they were on fire, and her head was pounding, her vision slowly starting to fade around the edges, and by this point she hardly even noticed her tongue hanging from the side of her mouth, wishing for little more than her suffering to finally end.
After yet another few minutes of agony, Hana felt her strength slowly wane, her instinctive kicks and struggles weakening before dying down into weak shudders and her frantic gasps falling silent as the feeling in her limbs began to fade, numbness creeping over her, as her body suddenly lost control, a warm, wet spot staining the front of her pants and trickling down her legs, eliciting a low laugh from Widowmaker, sounding distant and muffled to Hana.
But only a few moments later she didn't even care about this final humiliation anymore as the darkness that had been massing on the edges of Hana's vision finally coalesced and she all but welcomed it, embracing the nothingness as it swept her away
Only moments after her final indignity, D.Va went limp for good with one last sigh, and Widowmaker approached the hanging body, taking a closer look at her deep red, almost purple face streaked with tears and a bit of drool on her chin, frozen in an expression of pure terror and agony. And inspecting D.Va's neck, Widowmaker found the thin rope had embedded itself deep into the soft skin of her neck, a hint of the dark bruising underneath barely visible on the sides. Quite lovely.
Leaving the body hanging a little longer just to be completely sure, Widowmaker swiftly placed a few compact thermite charges on her mech's controls and reactor, preparing the timer long enough she would be well clear in case something exploded, before returning her attention to D.Va. Taking a few moments to grope and fondle the girl's rather small, but firm breasts, splattered with a few droplets of tears or drool, Widowmaker lifted her to take her out of the noose, rather unceremoniously placing the body on the floor as she retrieved her grappling hook, put it back on, activated the charges, then swiftly made her way to the rendezvous point as she radioed for pickup.
Widowmaker loosened her grip and took a half step back, but before Hana had any opportunity to break free, instead the woman reached for her throat, closing her right hand tight around Hana's neck, making her gasp and cough in surprise as the realisation set in after a moment. Quickly catching herself, Hana tried to pry away Widowmaker's hand or at least weaken her grip, but to little effect other than an amused smirk.
Her head quickly starting to pound, Hana started hammering against Widowmaker's arm instead, to no visible reaction, before swiping at the woman's head, but she had positioned herself just far enough that she merely had to lean her head back a little to dodge the attack, in return tightening her grip some more, eliciting another gasp from Hana.
As Widowmaker kept strangling her, Hana continued trying to break her grip, straining and squirming to somehow get a better position, but pressed against a flat wall, with nothing to grip on to, and MEKA barely out of reach, there was little she could do other than try to hold on and keep fighting. Shifting her weight onto one leg, Hana tried kicking at Widowmaker with the other, but her balance was completely off and even though she hit the woman's thigh, the kick didn't have nearly enough force and Widowmaker just ignored it with a low chuckle.
Still Hana kept struggling, fighting against Widowmaker's grip, beating and clawing at the woman's arm and hand, but she could slowly feel her strength weaken, while Widowmaker only leaned into strangling her with more and more of her weight, painfully pressing Hana's head against the wall. “You have lost, little girl. Just die already.”
As a reply to Widowmaker's taunt, Hana only redoubled her efforts, desperately squirming and thrashing, hammering against her arm and trying to kick her again, straight ahead this time, aiming for the woman's crotch, but she shifted to the side and locked her legs so Hana mostly only hit her knee, failing to have any real effect, and in return Widowmaker tightened her grip once more, her fingernails digging into the side of Hana's neck, and her palm painfully pressing against her throat, making Hana reflexively swallow.
By now Hana's head and lungs felt like on fire, and her vision was slowly starting to black out around the edges, and even though part of her knew she was probably going to die right here, she kept fighting with all her strength. Hana was sure as shit not gonna give in, if these Talon jerks wanted to kill her she'd at least make them work for it. Yet ultimately, after multiple more minutes of her struggles slowly but surely losing force, Hana slowly felt the last remnants of her strength wane, and finally surrendered, sinking into the darkness
As D.Va finally went limp with a weak sigh, Widowmaker let go of her and the girl dropped to the floor motionless as she inspected the damage to her arm and thigh; really just a handful of scratches and bruises, not even worth her attention. However to be completely sure of her kill, Widowmaker rolled D.Va's body onto her stomach and knelt onto her back, placing one hand under her chin and the other at the back of her head, then twisted them sideways in a sudden motion, easily snapping her neck with an audible crack, D.Va's body only briefly twitching and shuddering for a few seconds before going fully limp.
Getting up and turning the body onto her back, Widowmaker leaned down to take a closer look, D.Va's face still showing her pain and fear, traces of tears running down her cheeks and her neck bruised and bent at a slightly off angle. And, curiously, for whatever reason D.Va's nipples seemed completely hard, easily visible through her top, which really was more of a sports bra, and Widowmaker couldn't resist but briefly squeeze and fondle the girl's somewhat small, but nice and firm breasts for a couple of moments before tearing herself away; if she was still in the mood for this later, she'd just ask Sombra, the hacker had never been able to resist her.
Putting aside those deliberations for until she was back at base, Widowmaker swiftly placed a few compact thermite charges on her mech's controls and reactor, setting the timer long enough she was well clear in case something exploded, then swiftly made her way to the rendezvous point as she radioed for pickup.
All of a sudden Widowmaker swept her left foot under Hana's right leg, at the same time reaching for her shoulder as well to in one swift motion completely throw the girl to the ground on her back, the impact briefly taking Hana's breath away. Not giving her any time to recover, Widowmaker chuckled as she knelt down on top of her, half straddling Hana, pinning both her upper arms with her knees.
Ignoring Hana straining against her and ineffectually trying to pull away her knees with her hands, Widowmaker just observed her efforts for a handful of seconds before spreading her legs to further lower herself onto Hana as she shifted forward, until she was all but sitting right on her sternum, the weight on her chest keeping Hana from fully catching her breath. “I'm in a good mood today, so I'll give you something special.”
“What …are you-”
“Time to die, little girl.” Widowmaker moved forward even further until she was hovering right over Hana's face, then fully lowered herself, her pussy completely covering her mouth and nose – and cutting off her air, as Hana realised in a flash of panic after a few seconds, the rubbery material of the suit not at all breathable, and even without, the pure weight and Widowmaker sitting on her like that would probably have been enough to smother her.
Widowmaker's crotch and stomach all but filling her vision, when Hana looked up she could see the woman looming over her, looking down with a cruel smirk as Hana started squirming and straining against her, trying to pry away her legs, but even now her knees were still pinning the girl's arms, and Hana couldn't find any leverage. “You know, from what I read on the internet, a lot of men – and women – would pay for me to do this to them. You should feel honoured.”
What the fuck, really? …But then again, Hana had seen her share of odd – sometimes Brain Bleach-tastic – fetishes there as well, and if she weren't a brainwashed emotionless killer, Widowmaker would in fact probably be rather attractive, all things considered. But this really wasn't the time, she had to get out of this, and quick. By this point Hana's need for oxygen was downright painful, and she reflexively grimaced and swallowed, trying to somehow get another breath, but all she achieved was the smell of latex filling her nose, Widowmaker's pussy – which would have been an attractive prospect as well, given entirely different circumstances, its contours rather clearly outlined through the thin, tight material – completely blocking her airway.
Hana kept trying to break free, bucking and squirming, but she couldn't gain any leverage against Widowmaker, and even digging her fingernails deep into the sensitive inside of the woman's knees did little more than make her put some more weight forward, rubbing her pussy against Hana's face, and in turn painfully grinding the back of her head against the floor, letting out a dark chuckle. “Give it up, little girl, it is futile.”
Hana's 'fuck off' in return muffled beyond recognition, she nonetheless continued struggling with even more force, wildly thrashing even as her lungs were starting to burn and the edges of her vision beginning to swim, but she was not gonna die to some Talon psycho like this! Yet there really wasn't anything she could do either, and it was pretty unlikely that just now someone would pass by here, much less someone who could take on Widowmaker.
Still Hana kept hanging on, but ultimately her fear and panic took over, her eyes welling up with tears and her lungs and head feeling like on fire, and she started more wildly, uncontrollably struggling and flailing, yet only serving to waste what little strength she had left even quicker, all the while Widowmaker kept gazing down on her with a cruel expression. “It's useless, chérie. Just give in and it will all be over.”
Widowmaker's words sounded dull and distant, her vision wavering, and even though she really didn't want to, by this point Hana just didn't have any strength left, and so before much longer she did, her body giving up its struggles and going limp as she let the darkness wash over her, taking her away
Widowmaker noticed D.Va finally going limp with a satisfied smile, but kept smothering her for a few minutes longer just to be entirely sure, before getting up to inspect her handiwork. The pilot's face was deeply reddened and streaked with tears, her frozen expression somewhere between fear and defiance, but her broken eyes blankly gazing into nothing.
It had been quite a while since she'd killed someone like this. Absent-mindedly rubbing herself through her suit, Widowmaker briefly relished in the memory of the sensation of D.Va's face right against her pussy as the girl had breathed her last, but quickly caught herself. Not now, the mission came first. For …diversions like this there was always Sombra back at base.
Checking D.Va for a lack of pulse, Widowmaker swiftly placed a few compact thermite charges on her mech's controls and reactor, setting the timer long enough she was well clear in case something exploded, then swiftly made her way to the rendezvous point as she radioed for pickup.
Given I'm actually quite the fan of D.Va, it's surprising it took me this long to write about her, so now she gets to die three times at once (more or less. Also the similarities of the final paragraph in each one are fully intentional). This one could very well be in continuity with the previous story and the two older OW ones; in particular >> 11328 since it shares the element of Widow getting horny off her kills, and Sombra getting laid because of it (which is kinda only implied in this one).
(I'm still totally copy-pasting one of these.) Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed, feedback/criticism always appreciated.