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 No.4450

Hi everybody. I posted this story once on Smashwords before they passed their strict "no necro" rule. There is also a sequel that I might try posting later. Enjoy!


Slut-er House

I

She heard his heavy footsteps drawing closer and her pussy grew moist in anticipation.

Let him do it to me now, Amy thought. There was nothing she craved more than to feel her captor's cock thrust deep inside of her, to feel her womb overflow and possibly even burst with his seed, before he finally sent her to Hell once and for all. What was Hell like? She hoped that it would be like what she had spent the past few hours enduring, an endless orgy of torture and violation. They said that Hell lasted for eternity. If it was anything like her current fantasy, she definitely prayed that it would. Would she see the others in Hell? After all, they had all gone first and were probably waiting for her to arrive. Amy decided that she probably wouldn't, for Hell was supposed to be a punishment, not a holiday. Still, she couldn't help thinking about what it would be like to have a threesome with Satan and someone like Cici or Steffy. Maybe the Devil would allow an exception to the rules, simply for his own pleasure at least. Amy looked forward to it eagerly. She rubbed her pussy in ecstasy while anxiously awaiting the moment that her throat would be slashed, her carcass gutted and her eternally damned soul fucked and abused by the Prince of Darkness.

Finally, the electronic gate of her cage rose, opening the way down her last mile. Amy crawled through the narrow corridor like a hog in heat. Mobility was still difficult after what she had been through and, every so often, her captor would hasten her journey by shocking her ass with a cattle prod. The sharp tingle of electricity excited her sexually. She hoped that her tormentor would give her one last fuck for the road. She reached the end of the corridor to find a large, white room with bloodstained hooks hanging from the ceiling.

This was it.

She had reached the killing floor.

Amy's captor unbuckled his pants and she licked her lips in excitement.

This was the end of the line.

II

The line had begun in the insane asylum.

Dr Amy Pearson was stunned beyond words at what had become of her colleague. Liz had once been a cool, serious professional, the sort of no-nonsense “tough chick” who embodied modern femininity. As a result, it was a total shock to see her in her current state.

The woman who had once identified herself as Prof Liz Anderson was consumed by such a feverish lust that she no longer knew her own name. Every waking second of her life was spent playing with her clit. So fanatical had she grown in her obsession with self-pleasure that a straightjacket had had to be prescribed in order to keep her from hurting her genitals with the constant friction.

How the mighty have fallen, Amy thought at the sight of her newest patient. Liz wandered aimlessly around her padded room, wearing nothing below her waist. She was a natural brunette, as the tiny mohawk of hair above her pussy lips identified clearly. Her juices dripped from those lips constantly, staining the cushioned floor with her desires and filling the entire room with the sweet smell of clovers.

“Please fuck me.” Liz pleaded. “Fuck me like he does. I need it.”

“Like who?” Amy asked. “Who is 'he'?”

Liz didn't answer her question. Instead, the nymphomaniac tried positioning herself so that she could rub her own pussy with her bound elbows. She frowned when it didn't turn out as well as she had hoped. Instead, she did the splits and began gyrating her hips, rubbing her vagina against the padded floor.

“Please.” She continued. “I can't stand it.”

“Liz.” Amy said. “You know you're not well...”

“Fuck me!” Liz screamed. “Chain me up! Cut me open! Pull my guts out! Do it just like he does. I need it so badly.”

Amy's stomach became a knot. This once strong and controlled woman had disappeared for the weekend and, when she had returned, it was in an ambulance. What could have turned turned her into a sex-fiend with death fantasies? The only clue was the nymphomaniac's deranged words.

The cryptic “he”.

“Who is 'he'?” Amy repeated. “What did he do to you?”

Liz's eyes lit up.

“He is fantastic.” She said. The tone in her voice made it sound like she was talking about her Lord and Saviour. “One taste of his cum and you'll wonder how you ever lived without him. His hands are so strong, so forceful.”

She licked her lips at the thought.

“The way he holds you down... and his big, fat cock... it's incredible. It's like being broken in. And then, when he cuts you, it doesn't hurt at all. It feels wonderful.”

Liz began laughing hysterically.

“He takes you to Hell and makes it feel like Heaven. Do you want to know where Hell is?”

Liz leaned in close and whispered softly. She had not told anyone about where she had vanished to yet. However, she wanted Amy to know its location and learn its forbidden pleasures.

“At the slaughterhouse.”

III

The ancient slaughterhouse had remained empty for almost two hundred and fifty years. It was practically a museum of rusted equipment and forgotten butchering methods. Strange legends had surrounded it for as long as anybody could remember. For example, it had been officially condemned in the 1940s and even scheduled for demolition, for the Devil only knew how it had remained standing all these years. However, on the day of its proposed destruction, the entire crew was found crushed to death beneath their own machinery. Although the authorities wrote it off as an accident, one inspector at the time had commented that the probability was slim. It was almost as if some superhuman force had lifted the machines from the ground and then dropped them on top of the dead men.

Then, there was the family who had been murdered on the property in 1859.

And the cult who had committed suicide there in 1900.

And the hitchhikers who vanished in 1964.

And the partying teens who had been butchered, one by one, in both 1987 and again in 1988. The killer had never been properly identified or apprehended in either case.

Amy had lost her virginity in the slaughterhouse. She remembered the night vividly. The strange cocktail of nervousness and excitement as she and her boyfriend had driven out there. The sharp pain as she was penetrated for the first time. But, as she moved her body, the pain had turned to pleasure. She'd moaned in ecstasy as his thick penis slid back and forth inside of her dripping pussy. Then, the squirt of his seed, the thrill of the climax, and his strong hands squeezing her breasts as he filled her up with cum. Just being inside of the slaughterhouse had sufficiently aroused her, firing up desires that she never knew she'd had, and she remembered wondering if there wasn't some strange spell cast over the property, one that could ignite the flames of lust in even the most frigid of prudes.

As she gazed upon the dilapidated building now, that same spell washed over her. Her clit tingled at the sensation as she recalled that first time in the dark, surrounded by rusty meat hooks and worm eaten timber. She felt the uncontrollable urge to touch herself.

Dear God, Amy thought. What's wrong with me.

The spell drew her towards the rotted building, pulling her with a supernatural allure. She was powerless to resist the seductive enchantment of the unknown. She walked towards the slaughterhouse and nearly tripped over an old wooden sign. Amy stopped for a moment to read it.

M. Meat, Slaughterer.

What kind of a name is 'Meat'? She thought. She remembered how antique this sign must be and recalled how, in the olden days, a man's name was the same as his profession. The owner's name was Meat because that had been his business.

And just what kind of man was Mr Meat? she wondered. She pictured a large, powerful specimen, with muscles like boulders, rough, strong hands and a cock that could plunge its way into her violently as if it were a steel blade.

What am I thinking? Amy wondered. It must be this place. It was affecting her in way she had not felt since that night she'd popped her cherry. She told herself that she was just feeling nostalgic at the memory of her first time. But as she stepped through the open door of the slaughterhouse, her whole body grew hot and her panties moistened in delight.

Amy attempted to control herself as she took a quick tour of the crumbling building. Despite the fact that the structure was centuries old, she was astounded to find that a number of modern conveniences had been added. Electric lights now hung overhead, as well as numerous high tech slaughtering devices, from meat grinders to a machine for slicing cold cuts.

What's going on here? She thought. Perhaps a look at the animal pens would yield some answers. Instead of crumbling paddocks, Amy found an odd collection of new, steel cages. They were so shiny that they had to have come fresh off of the assembly line. A long, barbed wire fence surrounded what she took for a pig pen. She touched it and received a slight shock. It was electrified. The sensation aroused her further and she began sucking on her scorched fingertips as if they were an erect penis.

Not a single creature lay within the pens, but the muddy floor bore the tracks of both pigs and human beings. She imagined what it must be like to be kept in a cage like that. To live at a butcher's mercy and be forced to do everything he told her. If she ever disobeyed, there would be the sharp sting of a cattle prod to put her in her place. Then, one day, her number would come up and it would be off to the killing floor...

Amy couldn't stand it any longer. She tore off her blouse and began playing with her heavy breasts. The thought of being kept as a pet,... no, as less than a pet,... of being kept as meat was exciting her to no end. She undid her bra and tossed it on the bloodstained floor. She lifted her right breast to her face and sucked on her erect nipple. She wished that she was pregnant so that she could milk it. It was not a boob, it was an udder. She might as well have been a cow, waiting to be koshered. Cows were milked before being ground into hamburger. She licked her tongue around her tit, savouring the taste of her own flesh. But it was not enough. She wanted more.

She needed more.

Amy looked around to make sure that nobody was watching, then pulled her panties down from under her dark skirt. Her pussy was cleanly shaved, but the hair which grew down there was normally as raven black as the curly midnight locks which hung profusely from her pretty head. She rubbed her bald cunt excitedly, anxious for someone to pound it without mercy. Her juices flowed freely down her thighs as she opened her petals. She tickled her G-spot with her fingertips, inching herself closer and closer to climax.

Then, Amy saw them. Two beady eyes watched her from the darkness. Pigs eyes. They studied her lustfully. Hungrily.

“Do you like what you see?” She teased them. She decided to give her voyeur as much of a show as she could. She pulled her skirt all the way up and spread her pussy lips wide for him to see. She massaged them, getting as much of her juices as she could on her hands, then proceeded to rub the clear, clover-scented fluid all over her mammoth tits.

The eyes floated towards her, as if they belonged to a phantom. They hovered in the air in front of her boobs and she felt a large, invisible tongue taste her bosom. It was like having her tits polished by a big, wet rag. She felt a snout-like mouth suckling on her udders. It bit them sharply and it hurt, but she liked the way it hurt.

Slowly, her ghostly lover became visible. She could not see him clearly in the dim light, but he was just like she had envisioned. A huge, muscular figure loomed over her, sucking at her hardened nipples. His head was bent out of sight within her cleavage, but his body was exquisite and strong.

And he snorted like a pig.

His powerful hands grabbed her wrists suddenly and flung her violently to the ground. She hit her head on the hard floor with a loud thud and a tiny stream of blood trickled down her pretty face.

“Yes.” Amy told her lover. “Give it to me rough.”

She looked over her shoulder to see the massive shape rip off her skirt. His enormous dick was standing tall and stiff. Perhaps a bit too tall and too thick. She wasn't sure if it would fit inside her tight pussy. But her companion was not deterred. When he found that his penis did not fit, he made it!

Amy's loins were on fire as the giant dick was thrust deep within her. She felt something inside her break, possibly something vital, like her bladder. But she forgot about it the moment that he started hammering her. The pain was magnificent. It was like getting her cherry popped all over again and turned up to eleven. She felt herself break at the constant pounding. She sucked on her fingers again. They still tasted like her pussy juice.

This was Heaven.

At last, the hulking shadow unloaded a gallon of cum into her womb. There was so much that it seeped out of her vagina and onto the floor.

Amy wanted to stand up, but her legs could no longer move. Dear God, what had been broken? She tried crawling using only her arms. Her now useless legs dragged behind her like forty pound weights.

The giant beast grabbed Amy by her hair and dragged her into one of the cages. A fresh wave of arousal overcame her at the feeling of being abused. Once her captor had safely locked her into the steel prison, he turned a switch on the wall which electrified the bars. Amy touched them just for the hell of it and the shock of electricity was just like fingering herself.

The shadow gave a few more hoggish grunts and began rummaging through her purse. When he found her cellphone, he pushed the speed dial and brought the device close to the bars.

“Hello?” Said a voice on the other end. Amy recognized it as her sister, Nikki. Her delirious mind filled with all manner of dirty thoughts that involved her younger, more rebellious sibling.

The mad woman giggled hysterically.

“Amy?” Nikki said. “Is that you?”

Amy controlled herself as much as she possibly could.

“Hi, Nikki.” She said. “You're never going to guess where I am...”

IV

Nikki had no idea what her big sis' was up to, but she didn't like it.

It was spring break and she had come to visit her older, more responsible sibling for a few days. Of course, Cici and Steffy were with her too. None of the trio ever got into trouble without the others along for the ride. When Cici had wrapped her dad's convertible around a traffic light while coked out of her mind, you can bet that her two bosom buddies were there too. It had been a stupid place to put an intersection anyways. Then, there was that time in Cancun when they'd gotten drunk and had a girl-on-girl threesome in their hotel's lobby. Steffy would never let Nikki live that one down. The three troublemakers had already gothed themselves up and were ready to go clubbing when Amy had called.

So now, instead of tequila sunrises and one night stands, they were driving down a dirt road towards the old slaughterhouse. For what? None of them knew. All Nikki knew was that her sister wanted the three of them there ASAP.

Cici's death metal collection blasted out of the speakers. She was the only member of the troupe who wore her natural hair colour. She was actually quite proud of her blond locks, feeling that they added a contrast to all the black that the three of them wore, and often added hot pink lipstick just for shits and giggles. Steffy, on the other hand, had stained her hair a deep black and bobbed it to just below shoulder length. Nikki found it strangely ironic that her naturally ginger-headed friend was happier with dark hair while her own raven black curls were now a bright fire engine red and put up in pigtails.

The car pulled up in front of the slaughterhouse just as Mortician began a new verse on the radio. The sun had completely disappeared and Nikki felt strangely aroused at the sight of the building. There was no denying it. A curious tingle happened down below.

What the fuck am I thinking? she asked herself. All manner of dirty ideas entered her brain as if she were in a fever. She wanted to get screwed so badly. She wanted it rough too, violent even. She had never tried BDSM before, but now found herself curious. She thought it would be the sexiest thing in the world if it turned out that there was some kind of maniac waiting for her inside, one who would tie her to a bed and violate her until her juices turned scarlet. She imagined herself forced at knifepoint to debase her body in the most obscene ways possible, from eating someone else's shit to having pieces of her flesh cut off, and before she knew it, her panties were soaked right through.

One quick glance at her friends told her that they felt the same way. They were cattle waiting to be slaughtered.

The trio got out of the car and approached the crumbling structure. A huge sign reading “Slaughterhouse” hung next to the door, which lay open, beckoning the ladies inside. Nikki crossed the threshold first with her friends close behind.

“Amy.” She called out. “Are you there, sis?”

Nikki glanced back at her companions and saw them more preoccupied with making out. There was something about this place, something that robbed them of their collective will to life. Individuality was drained away the moment that they stepped inside the slaughterhouse. Whoever they had been outside, whatever hopes and dreams they'd had for the future, were gone. In place of their unique minds, there was now only insatiable lust that demanded satisfaction. Not even Nikki proved to be immune to its effects. Her pussy ached as she watched Cici's hand go up Steffy's miniscule top and grasp at her even more miniscule boobs. Steffy moaned in pleasure at being groped and her tongue curled around her friend's passionately.

Nikki's hand went under her own skirt and she rubbed herself without even thinking about it. She didn't know why, but the sight of her two friends going into another all-girl fuck session turned her on like nothing else ever had before. It was just like that night in Cancun. They had started screwing right there in the lobby and Nikki felt herself pulled into it by desires that she could not suppress. She grabbed the front of her panties and tugged at them. They rubbed against her clit while her dark pubic hair spilled out the sides.

Suddenly, Nikki heard a low snort.

Like a pig.

With her heart still fluttering, she spun in the direction of the sound.

“Amy?” She called. “Is that you?”

Whatever had made the noise snorted once again. The sound came from deep within the darkness, in the heart of the slaughterhouse.

“Hey guys.” She said. “Did you hear that?”

Neither Cici nor Steffy made any sign that they had heard her. They just kept kissing and groping each other passionately. The sight almost made Nikki forget about the weird sound. But then, she heard the pig-like snorting again. She didn't know why, but it made her even hornier. Yes, for reasons that she could not fathom, she was actually attracted to the sound.

Nikki left her friends behind and followed the bestial noise. The further she went, the hotter her body became. Her cunt tingled in excitement.

Maybe there really is a psycho in here after all, she thought. If there was, maybe he had captured Amy already. Maybe he would get his perverted hands on her own vulnerable body too. Maybe he would even force her to perform twisted sex acts with her captive sister.

Nikki licked her black lips wildly and raced down the hall. She was a bit disappointed to reach the animal pens without getting molested. But once she was there, that disappointment was replaced by exhilaration at what she saw.

Amy was lying naked in a cage, wanking off like a bitch in heat. Nikki's painted mouth curled into a lustful grin.

There really is a psycho, she thought gleefully.

Her heart raced as she sensed a presence standing directly behind her. Its deep, hot breath made the hair on the back of neck stand up.

And I'm next!

Strong hands grabbed Nikki and held her with superhuman strength. She looked up at her attacker and felt an ecstatic tingle between her legs. She couldn't see him clearly in the dark, but he was huge and muscular, exactly the kind of beefcake that she craved right now. She felt his cock press against her back and she rubbed her body against it seductively. The hands went to her chest and squeezed tightly. Nikki never wore a bra and her tits were warm clay in his paws. He held them so forcefully that it felt like they might be crushed into what Lady Macbeth once called “milky gore”.

“Oh yeah.” She said. “You like my tits, don't you. Why don't you get a better look at them?”

The hulking shadow made an animal grunt and tore her top away, exposing her fine breasts to the moonlight.

“Your tits are so nice, sis'.” Amy said feverishly. “I wish I could suck them.”

“Sorry.” Nikki answered. “They're for someone else tonight.”

She reached up and caressed her attacker's unseen face. Her fingers detected a monstrous, pig-like snout. But the feeling did not disgust her. It only excited her more.

Taken by a monster, she thought. This is Heaven.

The creature threw her to the ground and tore her skirt and panties away. He knelt down over top of her, his dick long and thick. Nikki was not as tight as her sister, but even she felt something pop as that monster cock was forced into her loins. He rammed her violently and she moaned in both pain and pleasure.

“Break me.” She cried. “Break me, you bastard!”

The beast saw those words as a challenge. He forced her legs wider and pounded even deeper inside of her. Nikki felt like she might be ruptured in half. She squeezed her tits in a lustful fever. She wanted him to break her, to crack her down the middle.

Pain and pleasure were now one and the same.

Death was inconsequential.

Only the feeling mattered.

Exquisite agony filled her lower regions as her her hips were snapped apart. Her pussy and ass were split in halves and a grisly red spray covered her belly.

“Yes!” She screamed. “Oh yes!”

The monster came inside of the gory cavity he had made in her once beautiful body. Her guts began sliding out of it, covered by a thick layer of white semen. She ran her fingers through them, aroused by her own mutilation.

Nikki was still in the throws of orgasm as her attacker lifted her above his head and tossed her into the pigpen. She looked up at where her brutal lover had been and found that he'd vanished like an apparition. However, she still heard him snorting. But then more snorts came from all around her. Nikki looked around and saw tracks appearing in the mud as if made by invisible feet.

Pig tracks.

A pack of ghostly white hogs materialized all around her. They stood silently for a brief moment, then attacked her mercilessly, tearing at her flesh with her teeth.

Eating her.

Nikki's breasts were torn off and chewed into stringy sinews by hungry mouths. The phantom pigs took her guts in their white mouths and pulled them out of her body. One slashed at her stomach to get at her intestines while another chewed on the broken mess that was once her pussy. They pulled the flesh away with their jaws and gnawed at her bloody bones. She regarded the spectral beasts strangely as she died. Her only regret was that they were not molesting her as well.

She closed her eyes and let them rip her into pieces.

V

Steffy squealed as Cici's tongue did things that the Bible forbade. She had come from a strictly religious family and had always hated all those rules about not coveting asses. As far as she was concerned, she could covet whomever's ass that she damn well pleased. Right now, she was coveting Cici's ass. It was a nice ass. Steffy almost wished that she had a dick so that she could pound her friend's tight little anus.

She didn't know what had gotten into her. As soon as she had entered the slaughterhouse, she'd felt hot all over. Fortunately, taking off her clothes had made everything hotter. Cici was naked too as she ate her out. Steffy felt her friend lick around her clit and inside her pussy. Her ecstasy heightened with each passing second until she finally climaxed. Warm sweat dripped from her every pore, from her splendidly curved back to her small but perky breasts, as she took deep breaths to calm her racing heart.

Now it was Cici's turn to be eaten.

The blond positioned herself against the wall and spread her pussy lips wide. Steffy thought that she had an amazing cunt. Opened like that, it reminded her of a butterfly. A tiny tuft of yellow hair decorated it at the top, a queen's golden crown. In order to hold it open, Cici's arms had to squeeze her delicious, heavy breasts together, as if she were posing for a centrefold. A perfectly succulent pinup.

Steffy knelt before the blond and licked her open petals. She heard Cici whimper slightly as her favour was returned. Steffy usually found that eating another girl out was actually quite pleasant, provided that her partner kept herself clean. If anybody's pussy was clean, it was Cici's. Steffy's tongue licked around and inside. It teased her clit and happily lapped up the flowing clover water. Her own cunt grew wet once more as the blond's fluids fell like rain on her face. When Cici finally came, Steffy felt ready for another go.

Neither of them knew why they were so horny. They probably could have kept going all night. But their passions were interrupted by a deep, piggish snort.

“Did you hear that?” Cici asked.

“Maybe it was just Nikki.” Steffy answered.

“But she went off hours ago.” The blond replied. “Maybe we should go look for her.”

Steffy peered into the darkness. Something about it excited her and made her clit tingle. It was as if the lurking shadows wished to attack her.

To violate her mercilessly.

To tear her to pieces.

And here she was, naked and helpless, vulnerable to any lurking fiend who wished to molest her.

She didn't know why, but it was so thrilling.

“Okay.” She said. “Lets go.”

Without even bothering to put their clothes back on, the couple sneaked around the dilapidated slaughterhouse. Steffy found it arousing to be such easy prey. She almost wished that there was some mad slasher waiting to do them in.

And she wished that he would hold them down and fuck them first.

And maybe after too.

After a few minutes of searching, Cici saw a door creak open, untouched by human hands. She thought that it looked as though an invisible ghost had unbolted it for them. Curious, the horny couple walked through it and found themselves in a small room with an antique writing desk in the middle. An ancient, leather bound book lay on its surface, worn by centuries of poor storage. Something about that book groped at their interest and Steffy opened it up for both of them to read.

April 30th, 1773,

Tonight is the festival of Walpurgis. The young maiden still spurns my advances. She despises my profession, says that slaughtering is an ugly trade. But she will learn otherwise. After tonight, she will have no choice but to love me.

May 1st, 1773,

I followed the directions in the Grande Grimoire exactly. By diabolical pact, my soul is now Satan's possession. But I do not care. I have never known a female's affection, not even a simple smile or word of kindness. Is eternal damnation not worth that one pleasure?

“I've heard about this.” Cici said. “Maxwell Meat. He was a slaughterer that got burned during the witch trials. They say he sold his soul to the Devil in order to make women fall in love with him. 'Meat the Cleaver', they called him.”

“I wonder if it worked.” Steffy replied. Her eyes turned back to the page.

May 2nd, 1773,

The maiden now craves me. Indeed, she cannot keep her hands off of me. Whenever I am gone, I am told that she acts normally. But, whenever I am present, she is possessed by the Devil of lust. Her father has ordered me to stay clear of her.

May 7th, 1773,

No woman can resist me anymore. In my presence, they become as succubi, unable to abstain from the sins of the flesh. Perhaps this was the Dark One's plan all along. Mere proximity to me incurably transforms even the most godly maiden into a lustful Jezebel, damning her immortal soul to Hell for all eternity. If I lure as many ladies off the path of chastity as possible, Lucifer will likely reward me in the hereafter.

Hail Satan!

Steffy stopped reading and wondered.

Lust.

She had been consumed by it ever since she entered the slaughterhouse. Her behaviour here was not normal, not for her, not for anybody.

What the fuck is wrong with me? She wondered. Why am I so obsessed with sex all of a sudden? Why do I want to be victimized?

The answer was written before her in plain English. But it was impossible. There was no Devil, no matter how much her parents had preached otherwise. Even if there was, Meat the Cleaver was dead. He had been burned, buried and consecrated over two hundred years ago. Even if he had made a pact with Satan, there was no way that it should be affecting her now.

Steffy gulped in terror as a thought occurred to her, one so nightmarish that it couldn't be true.

Unless his ghost still haunts the slaughterhouse.

Her pussy dripped at the thought. She pictured herself hunted by a murderous monster, one who wanted to kill and violate her, and the idea drove her into fits of erotic desire.

Was this due to the effects of the creature's satanic pact? Did he really have the power to turn even the most intelligent and demure of women into brainless, slutty bimbos? Or was he merely bringing out something that lay beneath the surface?

Steffy didn't know. Frankly, she no longer cared. Her libido consumed her from within, making her feel hot all over. In a way, Steffy no longer existed. In her place, there was only the unquenchable carnal thirst. She wanted to be fucked violently, to be made submissive by a hard master, to live and die by his sadistic whims.

The rise in her sexual urges could mean only one thing.

Meat the Cleaver was drawing near.

Steffy awaited him eagerly. She and Cici were cattle anticipating the slaughterer's arrival like the slow, stupid animals they were.

The ghost of Maxwell Meat appeared silhouetted in the doorway. He was a huge, hulking shape, a thing no longer human, but a pig-like demon who had come to usher them to Hell.

There is no Hell, Steffy told herself. She kept repeating that thought over and over again even as she knelt before the satanic beast and ran her tongue up and down his gigantic cock. Like a cow led to the killing floor, Cici joined her. She wrapped her udders around the mammoth shaft and stroked them up and down while she took the head in her pink-painted mouth. Steffy was jealous that she couldn't do the same trick with her own tiny tits. Instead, she played with the ghostly slaughterer's balls while her black-stained lips caressed his erect penis.

The creature made a satisfied grunt as the ladies took turns sucking his cock. Steffy hoped that he would like her mouth more than her friend's. Both of them began kissing opposite sides of the head and could not help kissing each other at the same time.

It was exquisite.

Without warning, the cock erupted, spraying thick cum in their faces and all over their tits. Both of them tried to catch as much of it as they could in their mouths, but it still dripped all over their bodies like a white rain. They rubbed it all over themselves sensually and grew hornier at the touch of it.

Cici made the mistake of wanting more. She put on a bit more of her hot pink lipstick first, then tried to suck out the last remaining drops from his penis.

But Maxwell Meat had grown sick of her, apparently. He stepped forward into the light and Steffy saw that, in his white-knuckled hand, he held his namesake tool.

A cleaver.

Cici's eyes widened in shock as he buried the weapon in her neck. A stream of arterial spray covered Steffy's nude body when he pulled the blade out again. It took two or three more hacks for him to sever the blond's lovely head. He held it up to his monstrous face for a second, then tossed it away as if it were worthless scrap.

Steffy watched her friend's bloody death-mask land haphazardly on the floor in front of her. Cici's expression was frozen in a look of pure surprise, her lifeless eyes seeing nothing. The seductive body which Steffy had been coveting mere minutes before fell limply to the ground. She knew that she shouldn't find her friend's demise arousing, but she could not help herself. Death was the most conclusive act in human experience. The ultimate climax. To exist as a living being and then to not exist, the discovery of such a philosophical prospect was thrilling.

She crawled over to Cici's remains and touched them. Once, they had housed a thinking, feeling person and were animated by conscious thoughts. But now, the body was just a shell of bone and meat, cooling in the night air.

Where did you go? Steffy thought as she kissed Cici's corpse. There is no Hell.

She gyrated her groin against the dead flesh and licked the cum off of the stiffening breasts. Her fingers touched the cold pussy and felt a trickle of piss leaking out. She sucked on Cici's nipples like a feeding calf. Yet, the blond remained motionless and unresponsive.

She had experienced the ultimate climax.

Steffy wanted it too, this final orgasm. She rubbed her friend's blood over her tits as if it were a sensuous massage oil.

“Do it to me too.” She pleaded of the slaughterman. The ghost of Maxwell Meat lifted her off the ground and held her in his arms.

This is it, she thought and bit her lip hungrily. She wrapped her legs around the pig-faced monster's waist and her heart raced with anticipation. His cock was large and thick. He pushed the head against her pussy and forced it in roughly. In and out. In and out. His dick rubbed against her inner walls and stretched them to their limit. He buried his face in her small tits and sucked on her perky nipples. His strong hands moved up from her waist and caressed her back. They continued upwards as he ran his fingers through her bobbed black hair and finally cradled her head in his palms. This thrusts grew more violent by the second as he pounded her cunt madly. His thumbs covered her black-lined eyes and pushed against them painfully.

“Do it.” She screamed in ecstasy. “Do it to me now!”

His large thumbs plunged into her sockets. Steffy's eyeballs burst in a creamy white liquid. His thick fingers dug into her scalp and his powerful arms tore her skull in two. Her brain leaked out from its protective casing and landed on the ground with a sickening thud. The pig-like demon thrust a few more times and let himself cum inside the goth girl's corpse, then ripped her sensual body in half. He tossed her bisected chunks aside and regarded the mass of grey matter on the floor.

Before him lay her brain, the seat of all consciousness.

Maxwell Meat raised his boot and stamped it into paste.

VI

Amy knew that the others were in Hell. That's where her captor had said he would be taking them. It would be her turn soon.

Amy couldn't wait.

She rubbed her pussy in anticipation of the great moment. It would be anytime now, the moment that the ghost returned. She was anxious to see all of Hell's devils and taste their sadistic tortures.

The sound of footsteps reached her ears and she knew that the blessed time had arrived. The spirit of Meat the Cleaver opened the electronic gate attached to her cell, revealing a long corridor ahead of her. Amy still could not move her legs, so she crawled through the dirt, determined to reach the light at the end of the tunnel. When she finally arrived at her destination, she found herself in a brightly lit, white room with bloodstained hooks hanging from the ceiling.

This was it. She had reached the end of the line.

Her satanic master stood over her, his pig-like snout curled into a cruel grimace. He unbuckled his pants as she made her way towards him like a good little cow. She reached up and took hold of his thick cock, stroking it gently, so that she might pleasure him one last time before he sent her on her final journey. She sucked on the tip and it tasted like her dead sister's pussy. The thought made her feel hot all over. It was like she was sucking his dick and eating Nikki's cunt at the same time.

The ghost of Maxwell Meat grabbed Amy's limp legs and hoisted her into the air. The sweet, sweet pain came to her again as a pair of meat hooks were stabbed into her feet.

Amy sucked her master's cock while suspended upside down. Blood dripped down her legs and tickled her shaved pussy. She felt ecstatic as the ghostly killer went to work.

On a small table lay a set of professional slaughtering knives. With his large hand, he picked up a long sharp one and ran it gently over her naked skin. First, its fine point teased her mammoth udders, hardening her nipples with tantalization. He even cut the tip of one of them, just to remind her how delicious the pain felt. Then he brought it upwards, passing the blade over her soft, vulnerable belly. But when the cold steel reached the fleshy petals of her cunt, that's when her carnal urges really bubbled to the surface. He played with her a moment, making shiver in anticipation.

Will he or won't he? She wondered. Maxwell Meat raised the knife high and Amy's heart fluttered as he stabbed it into her pussy. She screamed in pleasure while he wiggled it around deep inside of her. She felt like she was going to cum when he bent the blade down and sliced her clit in two. The knife continued slicing, cutting open her belly. Blood poured over her breasts as her master tore out her intestines.

“Oh yes!” She cried. “Those are my guts! Rip out my juicy guh-guh-guh...”

Her sentence was cut off as she started choking on her own blood. The ghost of Maxwell Meat continued until he had successfully hollowed out her torso. Her eyes stared up at him vacantly, her pretty mouth wide open, ready and waiting. He cradled her skull in his hands as he inserted his cock between her waiting lips. He pounded her harder than ever this time. He felt the bones collapse under pressure and, when he finally came, her entire head broke apart in his massive paws. He dropped the shattered remnants of Amy skull and grinned evilly.

She had died like a good cow.

VII

It was early morning by the time the slaughter had ended. The naked corpses of Amy, Nikki, Cici and Steffy were already attracting flies. Steffy's torn halves had even turned greenish from the high temperature and were starting to smell something awful. The others would follow her example soon.

The ghost of Maxwell Meat hoped that Satan would be pleased with the latest sluts that he had tossed into the bottomless pit.

Sluts, he thought. A novel idea occurred to him. He retrieved the tube of hot pink lipstick from Cici's topless body and stepped outside. He approached the sign on the door.

Slaughterhouse.

Mischievously, he wrote the word “Slut” overtop of “Slaught” in capital letters.

SLUTerhouse.

Where sluts are brought to be slaughtered!

Within the bowels of that “SLUTerhouse”, the bodies of four beautiful women rotted in the afternoon heat. However, their souls passionately embraced their new roles as the Devil's submissive fuck toys. Their twisted, erotic fantasies played out forever as they were condemned to the tortures of Hell.

To them, it felt like Heaven.

The End

 No.4472

Love it. Please write more. More consensual. Longer sex.

 No.4535

And here's part 2. I was working on a third when Smashwords passed their "no snuff, no necro" rule. If everyone likes these, I might finish it.

Also, feel free to use the Maxwell Meat character in your own works. Consider him "open source".

Slut-er House II: Student Bodies

By Jack Leventreur

Chapter 1

The chopping block waited for her. Evelyn took a deep breath, followed by slow, apprehensive steps towards it. Her heart fluttered at the thought of what she knew was coming.

She would be cumming.

He would be cumming.

Then she would be going.

She licked her lips and bent over onto the bloodstained stump. However, she must not have been moving fast enough for his liking, because his rough fingers gripped the back of her head and forced her face into the hard surface. Evelyn winced in pain and her pussy grew moist at the sweet, sweet feeling.

“Oh yeah.” She said. “Hurt me, baby.”

Her mother and friends were watching her from the cage. They had watched as the monstrous killer had stripped her naked, but they had not watched in horror. No, they were as hot as she was for the fate that was awaiting them. None of them could resist touching themselves as they awaited their turn on the block. It was something about this place that made them all wet for death and torture.

The thought that she was chosen to be first made Evelyn smile. Those powerful hands spread her buttocks and her anus tingled in excitement.

The first selected to die...

Chapter 2

The college library always frightened Evelyn. She had heard horror stories about how a student had been raped there once and, even though she knew that lightning never struck the same place twice, the idea adhered to her memory like a stain. Those bookshelves were so tall, so foreboding, and they created such a maze that nearly any crime could be committed there without the rest of the world finding out.

Rape.

Murder.

They would be the college's dirty little secret. Nobody would ever know except the books.

And books don't talk.

Not that anybody would ever want to rape Evelyn. When puberty hit, she had grown upwards instead of forwards. “Big boned” was what her mother had always called her. Dear mom, only she would dream up such a nice way of describing how her daughter's height had accelerated while her tits stayed as flat as a cutting board.

“Big boned”.

Evelyn could do with a “big bone”. With a figure like hers, men typically kept their distance. So far, no adventurous shuttles had come to explore her mysterious wormhole. Her body remained virgin territory in every sense of the term. As a result, the thought of finally popping her cherry both thrilled and terrified her, especially the idea of being taken forcefully. It had the potential to be either Heaven or Hell and the uncertainty as to which it would be made her nervous.

As she walked amongst the dusty volumes, probing deeper into the library than she usually allowed herself, Evelyn could sense her dread rising. It was here that they said it happened. It could happen to her. It could happen now!

Evelyn heard a noise behind her. She gave a slight jump and spun around to see what it was. However, not another soul was in sight. She was alone. Vulnerable. And yet, she could have sworn that she'd heard the strangest of sounds.

A pig squealing.

The noise returned, as if some phantom hog were haunting the bookshelves. By the time that Evelyn realized that there was a presence standing behind her, it was already too late. A large, powerful hand clamped itself over her mouth. She tried to scream, but her voice was barely audible. Her body began to quiver in terror as she felt someone kiss her neck.

Oh, God! She thought. It's happening. It's really happening.

Beads of nervous sweat broke out over every inch of her flesh as a tongue caressed her throat. But her fear melted into excitement at the stranger's touch. Her body felt hot all over and her clit began to tingle. A second hand groped at her miniscule bust. Her breasts were so small that she had never bothered wearing a double-barrelled slingshot. She gave a pleasurable moan as the hand caressed her tit.

He must be so disappointed, she thought. However, the unseen stranger made no indication that he was displeased with her body. In fact, he made more pig-like grunts to signify his approval. He didn't care that she was flat. He didn't care that she was “big boned”. He wanted her and knowing this aroused her beyond anything she had ever imagined.

The hand tore open her blouse and touched her bare skin.

He wants me, Evelyn thought. Rough fingers teased her nipples.

He really wants me.

They squeezed her tits, as if trying to milk her.

He wants to be inside me.

The hand explored her waist and moved further downwards to her loins. Evelyn's panties were soaking in expectation.

“Do it.” She said. Those phantom fingers rubbed the front of her underwear, teasing her clit through the thin veil of silk. With the agility of a maestro, they slid her panties aside and tickled her hole. Evelyn dripped with pleasure as her feminine juices trickled down her thigh.

The hand lifted her leg forcefully, spreading her slit wide. Without warning, something was rammed between her legs. Something long. Something thick. Something barbed. Evelyn screamed as her hymen was ripped. Her attacker's cock thrust itself deep within her. It pounded her virgin pussy mercilessly. Tears of masochistic pleasure welled up in her eyes as she was deflowered violently. Honey mixed with blood and squirted from her pussy. She tried to cry out as the monstrous dick broke her in.

Finally, she heard a high-pitched pig squeal and felt a warm fluid spray into her womb. The stranger continued to hammer her until he had drained every last drop of cum into her bleeding cunt. At last, he slid his dick out and threw her to the floor.

Evelyn just lay there in a cum coma as the unseen man's seed trickled out of her pussy.

That was Heaven, she thought.

Chapter 3

Mother's picture rested upon the nightstand. Always smiling. Always encouraging.

As she lay in bed, Evelyn simply could not stop touching herself. She hoped that none of the other girls in the dorm would notice. However, she prayed secretly that a pair of slender, female hands might slip under her covers and massage her clit for her.

What the hell is wrong with me? She thought. She never used to be this hyper-sexed. But ever since that incident in the library, she could not chase the dirty thoughts from her brain. She was like a dog in heat. A bitch.

Make me your bitch, she called mentally to the unseen stranger. She prayed silently that he would return to her and give her more of the same treatment. Under her covers, she rubbed her pussy furiously. The juices covered her fingers, which she then sucked on, tasting her own clover-scented fluids.

Mother kept smiling.

Dear mother. Still quite beautiful despite her years. Still sexy. She had been a pinup model in her youth and easily could be again. Her blond, braided hair had avoided any hint of grey, her skin had remained uncannily soft. And those breasts! Large, matronly breasts that had once fed her children. Evelyn felt like suckling on them once again.

Oh, mother...

Evelyn had to keep quiet. What would the other girls think if they caught her fingering herself to a picture of her own mom? She peeked out from under her comforter and saw that there was little risk. Although it was after lights out, all of her dorm mates were huddled in a circle on the floor. It was like one of the slumber parties that they all used to have when they were teenagers. Mary, Sammy and Liz all wore their best nightgowns and held flashlights in their hands, taking turns telling ghost stories.

“I know one.” Liz said. “You know that abandoned field out the window?”

“The one with that old ruin on it?” Sammy asked.

“Yup.” Liz nodded. “That ruin used to be a slaughterhouse hundreds of years ago. The man who owned it was burned during the witch trials. They say that he sold his soul to the Devil to make women fall in love with him. But they also say that his ghost still haunts the grounds and any girl who sets foot within will find herself possessed by an uncontrollable lust. Five years ago, three girls from this college went out there. They found them weeks later, molested, hacked to pieces and even partially eaten. And when the coroner studied the semen samples from their corpses, it didn't match any living creature.”

“Note to self, then.” Mary said. “Don't go fooling around in the old slaughterhouse.”

“Yeah.” Sammy added. “It's not that scary. I mean, if we don't want to be raped and murdered, all we have to do is not go out there. Who'd be dumb enough to do that after what happened anyways?”

“Nobody, I guess.” Liz replied. “But tell me, even if we don't go to him, what's to stop him from coming to us?”

Chapter 4

The shower felt good. It washed the dirt away and helped to alleviate the pressures of being a college professor. Anne had only been teaching at the school for two semesters and she already felt like retiring. She wasn't that much older than her students and it showed in her bright pink hair. Youthful eccentricity. But the weight of the adult world was already beginning to crush her. The dye in her hair was fading now. The shampoo rinsed some of it from her glorious mane. The lather then dripped down her neck and onto her fine, nude body. The suds washed over her perfect breasts as running water ran like miniature waterfalls from the tips of her nipples. As she covered herself with soap, she recognized that she had a great figure. While spreading the cleansing lather over her soft flesh, she became vaguely aware of a presence on the other side of the shower curtain. At first, she dismissed it as her imagination. It was just her own paranoid mind playing tricks on her, possibly fulfilling her subconscious fantasies while it was at it. Indeed, the mere idea of being surprised in the shower by a mystery man made her feel hot all over. She pictured herself at the mercy of a madman, forced to submit to his perverse desires, and felt a tingle down below.

But then, she heard a snort and a shadow was cast over her. Anne could see a hulking silhouette through the curtain. Watching her. Craving her.

Her heart pounded at the sight of her peeping tom. She couldn't see his face, but he was large and capable of overpowering her with minimum fuss. She trembled as she realized how easily he could force her into submission. Yet, her trembling turned into a pleasurable shudder. Her fear turned into a craving. She became wet inside as well as out. Her hands went downstairs to her private chamber and she rubbed her pussy, intent on giving her voyeur a show. The peeping tom made a slight grunt of approval.

Curiously, Anne thought he sounded like a pig.

She stroked her clit and her wet body ached for a man's touch. The red eyes on the other side of the curtain probed her bare skin. They studied her naked form, stabbing into her like knives.

Penetrating her.

Anne caressed her own body. She squeezed her breasts together, letting the soap bubbles get caught in her cleavage. They dripped down her tits in cleansing streams, lathering her sensual figure. She kissed the soft skin of her breasts, teasing them with her tongue. She lifted one of them to her mouth and sucked on her own nipple. She bit it and relished the sweet, sweet pain. The taste of blood filled her mouth. But instead of revulsion, the taste brought only more arousal. She suckled the red water from her breast as if it were mother's milk. As she did so, her slender fingers returned between her legs. They spread her lips wide and thrust themselves into the dripping wet walls of her womb. Anne fingered herself madly while drinking from her own teat. Drunk with passion. Drunk on blood. Her blood, just waiting to be spilled.

As she reached her climax, the shower curtain was thrust aside. The shadow which stood in the doorway bore down on her with an axe in his hands.

The first blow struck her in the stomach. An exquisite pain filled her as the blade entered her belly. Juices gushed forth from both the wound and her pussy. Anne fell to her knees as blood poured down over her cunt, staining her hand crimson. She continued to finger herself even as the axe was buried in her back. The delicious agony fuelled her lust.

I'm being murdered, she realized and the thought turned her on like nothing else.

The weapon chopped into her shoulder, severing the arm from her body. Anne watched as the hand which she used to finger herself fell lifelessly to the floor of the shower stall. She couldn't masturbate anymore, but she didn't care. This was even better. She kept suckling the blood from her breast as the axe struck her buttocks, penetrating deep into the fatty meats. The killer then brought the edge of the blade between her legs and teased her pussy.

“Yes.” She said. “Do it.”

The shadow pulled back his weapon, like a baseball player up at bat, and swung it directly into her cunt. Anne felt her pussy split open and, as the axe was pulled out, her guts spilled forward through the hole between her legs. Anne screamed in pleasure as her hips snapped apart and her legs went limp.

“I'm gonna cum.” She told her killer. “I'm... I'm cum-”

The axe split her face open, cutting off her sentence. Anne's brains were splattered all over the shower stall. All the knowledge which she had intended to impart onto her students was now a series of chunky stains on her bathroom walls.

Anne's juices oozed from her open orifices. She had experienced her final climax and now her soul was to relive that same torture forever in Hell.

Chapter 5

“What the fuck was that?”

Liz trembled. They had all heard the scream. Even Evelyn bolted upright in bed as the shrill cry ripped through the night air.

“It sounded like it came from outside.” Sammy replied. Liz got up from the circle and walked to the window. She drew the curtains aside and peeked through the glass. The street beyond was deserted. However, there was a light on in the house across the way. She recognized it as their science professor's home. Behind it lay a vast, abandoned field.

And the slaughterhouse.

Liz shivered at the sight of it and yet she also felt a slight tingle down below. The thrill of danger. Indeed, Liz liked to live dangerously. It excited her. Aroused her. No sex was better than the kind that came with risk. She read the tattoo on her arm:

“Live fast, die young.”

Yes, that was her motto. Drive in the fast lane. You may end up splattered all over the pavement, but what a way to go, right?

“I'm gonna check it out.” She said.

“Are you crazy!?” Sammy replied. Liz winked at her.

“You could always come along to keep me safe.” She said. Sammy shook her head.

“I'll go.” Mary said and joined her dorm mate. Liz slid the window open and climbed through it with her friend in tow.

The darkness outside was smothering. Liz could almost feel the shadows snatching at her nightgown, wanting to rip it from her tattooed skin. The idea stimulated both her imagination and her feminine regions.

What the hell's the matter with me? She wondered. As she and Mary walked across to the professor's house, Liz could not help but envision rapists lurking in every patch of shade. And here the two of them were, so tempting and vulnerable in nothing but their flimsy pyjamas. Mary, the post-modernist film student, was the goodie-two-shoes of the pair. She even kept her blond hair in pigtails, as if she were a sweet, innocent schoolgirl. However, that failed to mask the fact that she'd obviously had some surgery done on her bosom.

Those aren't real, Liz thought cynically. Every sweet little girl-next-door always seemed to have something to hide. Whether it was implants, a dildo collection or a lust for the crack of the whip, there was no such thing as an innocent virgin. Liz, on the other hand, wore everything that Mary was trying to hide on her sleeve. She even had it permanently inked on her flesh.

“Live fast, die young.”

There were other slogans too. But she was proudest of the tattoo which marked her shaved mound. It was the symbol that every young generation since the dawn of the sexual revolution had prayed to, the almighty sign of the middle finger.

Liz felt that she wouldn't mind getting fingered. As she drew closer to the professor's house, her passion seemed to escalate. Her skin felt warm in the cool night air.

“You okay?” Mary asked. Liz tried to answer her, but her pussy had begun to ache so badly that words were impossible. It took every ounce of her self-control to keep from touching herself. From the look in her eye, Mary must have felt the same way. How could she maintain so much control then?

Frigid little bitch, Liz thought. She must be one of those hypocrites who shames all outwards displays of sexuality, but keeps a leather teddy and the Kama Sutra hidden in her closet. Sexualization is only ever wrong when someone else does it. Mary's attitude made her sick. Although the blond prescribed to a different political narrative, she was still just as uptight about sex as any bible-thumper. Especially in the movies and books that she claimed to love so much, but did nothing but whine about all day. Same shit, different asshole. But who knew that wings could shit too?

Liz shook her head and continued towards the house. The window was open and the light was on. She tiptoed up to the sill and peaked inside.

She saw the meat that lay on the bathroom floor. The hacked up remains that had once been a beautiful woman. Her heart fluttered at the sight.

Oh God, she thought. Why is this turning me on so much?

There was no denying it, she was getting turned on. Seeing beauty ruined, thinking that the same thing might happen to her, stimulated her sex drive. She couldn't resist it any longer. She had to touch herself.

“What are you...” Mary began. Her sentence was cut off as Liz's mouth met hers. The frigid bitch seemed to freeze up at first, then melted on her lips, letting herself go to the feeling. The two ladies kissed passionately. Their tongues entwined in a lover's knot. Liz squeezed those fake tits, but was afraid that the gel-filled bags inside would break. Instead, she grabbed Mary's succulent ass. Her hand slid under the blond's nightgown and her playful fingers teased her anus. So tight. So ready.

Their passion was interrupted by the sound of pig squeals. The noise made Liz think of the old slaughterhouse and the legend that lived within its walls.

He sold his soul to the Devil to make women fall in love with him...

So that women would love him. So that women would do the things he loved. So that women would love the things he did to them.

What the fuck am I doing? Liz thought. This isn't me. I don't enjoy this.

And yet, her lust magnified as the squeals grew louder. As their source drew nearer.

It's him, she realized. He's going to fuck me, then murder me, and I'm going to love every minute of it. Because that's what he sold his soul for.

A ghostly shadow was cast over the pair. Liz and Mary both turned to see a huge shape looming over them. Mary trembled in terror, but Liz quivered with sexual excitement. Her pussy ached to be violated by this beast of a man.

Do it to me, she thought. Fuck me.

Mary ran from the scene and disappeared into the night. But Liz stayed where she was, eager for the satanic ghost's special touch. The touch he had given the professor.

The shadow grabbed Liz by the hair and flung her to the ground. The sharp pain excited her and made her pussy throb. His powerful hands ripped off her nightgown, exposing her tattooed flesh to the moonlight. He spent a moment admiring the decorations on her body, grunting his approval in his own pig-like manner. Liz spread her legs for the killer. She could barely see anything other than his silhouette in the dark. But his eyes were red and beady.

And his cock was long and thick.

And covered with sharp spikes.

That monster dick rammed inside her like a spear. Liz tried to scream, but rough fingers covered her mouth. She could only wince in pain as she felt her womb being shredded by the thrusting of sharp barbs. Such wonderful pain. Tears streaked down her cheeks while blood streaked down her ass. She wanted to be ripped to pieces. To be hacked up like meat.

The spikes pounded her pussy mercilessly. She couldn't take it anymore.

I'm gonna cum, she thought. I'm gonna cum while having my cunt destroyed.

Her pain threshold reached its absolute limit and she climaxed in a spray of crimson. Her attacker kept thrusting deeper and harder until his cock burst out through her stomach. Liz's jaw dropped in shock as he sprayed his seed over her chest. The killer's face moved in close to hers and she saw that he had a wide mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth. His powerful jaws closed in around her head and she felt a vice-like pressure around her cranium.

This is fucking amazing, she thought. The best orgasm ever.

Liz's skull split apart between the killer's fangs. Its contents dribbled down his lips and over his chin.

Live fast, die young.

Chapter 6

Sammy held Evelyn close. The sounds she heard from beyond the window, the manic cries of horror and pleasure, filled her soul with dread. Her heart fluttered with terror and excitement. Yes, what was happening outside was frightening. But being this physically close to Evelyn thrilled her. Sammy had lusted after her friend ever since she first discovered her sexuality. She'd never had the guts to say anything, always afraid that it would spoil everything between them. Evelyn was straight, there was no two ways about that. So, Sammy had kept her lust a secret all these years. She ran her fingers through her best friend's hair and savoured the sensation of her fair skin.

“What do you think happened to them?” Evelyn asked.

“Sh.” Sammy hushed her softly. “There's no need to be afraid.”

“Maybe someone out there got them.” Her friend continued. Her voice sounded as if she were in a trance. “Maybe they're being killed right now.”

Sammy repressed a shudder. She gazed out the window at the old slaughterhouse. As she recalled Liz's story, she felt a soft tingle in her pussy. The thought of being molested began to excite her.

“Do you think he'll come and kill us too?” Evelyn asked. Her lips drew close to Sammy's. “Would you like to die with me?”

Their lips touched each other and kissed passionately. Sammy felt like her body was on fire. She had wanted this for so long. Years of unrequited lust bubbled to the surface. Her hands explored her best friend's body. Her lover's body. From those tiny tits, to those long legs, to that hairless snatch, Sammy touched it all. Felt it all. Craved it all.

“I love you.” She said. “I've always...”

Evelyn silenced her by putting a finger to her mouth. Sammy watched as her best friend moved downwards. She spread her legs and felt Evelyn tease her dripping pussy with her tongue.

“Oh God.” She cried.

“God has nothing to do with this.” Evelyn said in a voice that didn't sound like hers. She licked Sammy's slit eagerly, thirsty for the clover-flavoured water that waited within.

The sound of panicking footsteps reached their ears. Sammy looked to the window and saw Mary trying to climb inside.

“Help me!” She screamed in horror. “He's right behind me!”

And right behind her he was! Without warning, a large hand reached out of the darkness and grabbed Mary by the hair. It bent her over the window in a missionary position. The lovers watched as the blond's nightgown was torn off, revealing a slender, athletic body with a triangle of golden hair between her legs. Her tits were large and firm. Fake tits.

Mary said nothing, but shook with fear. Or maybe it was excitement. Yes, Sammy could clearly see the monster's spell taking over her. The blond was enjoying this. Running away was all part of the game. Hard to get.

But her attacker was not in the mood for games. Sammy watched as a monstrously large cock was rammed into Mary's ass. The barbie doll blond screamed in agony as the unholy killer thrust into her again and again, squealing like a pig.

Meanwhile, Evelyn kept licking. Sammy felt like she was in ecstasy while she watched Mary get violated. Her lover's tongue tickled her g-spot and her eyes stared at those round, fake tits, which shook with each thrust.

Mary started to touch herself. She squeezed her own breast and played with her clit as the monster pounded her from behind. Sammy could tell that she was really getting into it. Her own passion was escalating at the same time. The heat of her body rose until she finally broke out in a warm sweat. Sammy cried out in orgasm. After a few more violent thrusts, Mary climaxed and imitated the gesture. The blond slid off of the monster's cock and lay panting on the floor with a bloody asshole.

At last, the killer stepped through the window and revealed himself. He was a giant of a man, with beady, murderous eyes and a face like a demonic hog. His body was ripped with fine-toned muscles and his dick was inhuman. He wore a spiked cock ring that dripped with the blood of his latest conquest.

Conquest.

Conquer me, Sammy thought. Take me like you took her.

The killer stepped towards the girls and Evelyn's face broke into a madwoman's smile.

“Come and get us.” She said. “Do it to us.”

The satanic creature cast his shadow over the pair. His red eyes burning with hellfire. But instead of taking the girls, he pointed to the photo that rested on the nightstand. Both Evelyn and Sammy grinned as a truly sinful idea entered both their heads.

Chapter 7

Brigitte was entertaining company when her daughter called. It had been so long since she'd heard from Evelyn, but even longer since she'd seen either Cheryl or Genny. The old girls still looked good for their years. Cheryl had started dying her hair a fire engine red to hide her creeping age. While she had put on a fair bit of weight, she still had a youthful look in her face and body. As for Genny, well, there could be no denying that she was still a walking temptation. She and Bridgette had fooled around back in university, but that was all water under the bridge. However, while Brigitte was showing the clear signs of age, Genny might as well have been kept in a time capsule. Maybe she was. A time capsule called plastic surgery. Brigitte would have to get the name of her doctor.

The former pinup model excused herself when the phone rang and was surprised to hear her daughter's voice.

“Hi Mom.” Evelyn said. “Can I ask a favour? Could you come and meet me somewhere?”

“Now?” Brigitte exclaimed. “It's the middle of the night and I have company.”

“Bring them with you.” Her daughter replied. “They'll get a kick out of this too.”

“Get a kick out of what?” Brigitte demanded. “What's going on, Evelyn?”

“Just meet me at the old slaughterhouse.” Her daughter answered. “I promise you won't regret it.”

There was a click and the line went dead. Brigitte frowned. She explained the situation to Genny and Cheryl. Thankfully, those two old girls seemed happy to go along. Bless them. The three ladies climbed into the car and drove out towards the college.

Towards the slaughterhouse.

As she pulled up in front of the ruin, Brigitte felt her panties getting soaked. Something about this place was arousing her, but she couldn't place what. There was some kind of force inside, drawing her towards it. Something that preyed upon her deepest carnal desires. Something that conjured up memories of those nights when her husband was still alive. How he used to tie her to the bed. How he would whip her until she came. How he would plunge himself deep inside her and take her like an animal. Like a dog. Her body shivered with lust as she stepped out of the car. She almost tripped over an ancient sign that lay half-buried in the ground:

M. Meat, Slaughterer.

The sight of it made her recall the tale of Maxwell Meat, the lonely butcher who made a pact with the Devil for female companionship. Another sign rested by the door:

Slaughterhouse.

Only someone had written something obscene in pink lipstick over the word “Slaughter”.

SLUTerhouse.

Where sluts get slaughtered. Brigitte felt like a slut and something inside her was craving slaughter. To see blood spilled. The ultimate turn on. To have her own blood spilled. The ultimate climax.

Cheryl and Genny followed her into the ruin with anxious steps. Did this place hold the same spell over them that it did over her? It must have, for as the probed deeper into the rotting building, she could see their eyes glaze over with desire. Their figures trembled with lust, a lust that consumed them utterly and begged to be satisfied. A lust that pulled them into a place that filled them with shock and excitement.

The animal pens.

None of the cages had been used in ages. At least, not for their original purpose. While the old ones rusted away to time, brand new ones had been brought in to replace them. Trapped inside were Evelyn, her friend Sammy and a blond girl in pigtails. Brigitte's pussy throbbed at the sight.

A maniac has taken my daughter, she thought. The low grunt of a pig reached her ears and she became aware of a presence behind her. The three women turned and faced the hulking creature. Cheryl dropped to her knees at the sight, while Brigitte and Genny both licked their lips excitedly. Lust filled their loins as they watched their redheaded companion take the killer's monstrous cock in her hands. Cheryl, who had always been the prude of their trio, caressed the giant member and kissed it softly. She ran her tongue up and down its shaft and pressed it against her chest. She kissed the head, but when she tried to take it in her mouth, she found that it simply did not fit. However, that was remedied easily. The muscular shadow took hold of Cheryl's jaws and snapped them apart. She screamed in agony, but her cries were cut short by the creature's dick being thrust down her throat. Brigitte practically drooled as the beast violated her friend's mouth. He rammed his cock deep into her oral cavity. Cheryl's face turned purple from lack of oxygen. When he finally unloaded his seed into her throat, her lifeless, swollen corpse merely flopped on the soft earth with cum leaking out of the wound in her face.

The monster then turned to Brigitte and Genny. Evelyn's mother mourned her friend's death, but also felt exhilarated by the prospect of sharing her fate. To experience the ultimate climax, there could be no greater pleasure.

The killer grabbed the ladies by the hair and dragged them to the cages.

Oh yes, Brigitte thought. Hurt me. Tie me to the bed. Whip me. Cut me. Do it to me just like he used to.

He opened the cage door.

Mutilate me. Violate me. Do all the things they say you shouldn't, all the things we're not aloud to talk about...

He thrust Brigitte and Genny inside and sealed their escape with an iron padlock. The throbbing in her pussy was getting to be unbearable. She needed release. She needed stimulation.

And she would get it, visual stimulation that is. Brigitte watched as the killer unlocked Evelyn's cell and stripped her daughter naked.

Chapter 8

Evelyn was the first selected to die. The chopping block waited for her. Waited to spill her blood. Waited to take her life. What was it like to die? To have your very being extinguished? It was thrilling to wonder. The ultimate thrill. The ultimate climax.

Her pussy tingled with excitement as rough hands led her towards her fate. They placed a weird skirt made of bones around her bare waist and a matching necklace over her shoulders. The bones of the women who'd come before. She was to be a sacrifice. A human sacrifice to Satan.

A hand pushed her head violently onto the block. A machete rested imbedded in the wood mere inches from her face. Hungry for meat. Thirsty for blood.

Those hands spread her buttocks wide and she felt something press against her asshole. With no lubricant, the monster's dick was forced into her anus. Evelyn cried in virgin pain as she lost her second chariot. Each thrust chafed her insides and the sweet, sweet agony was bliss. He pounded her ass mercilessly, penetrating so deep that she could feel it in her guts. He thrust into her guts, fucked her in her guts and finally came in her guts. But it was not enough for Evelyn. She still had not climaxed.

But her ultimate climax was drawing near. She could feel it in her bones and her pussy dripped expectantly. She felt the cock's head press itself against her lips. The shaft followed, its bulk stretching her inner walls. Her uterus felt ready to pop. Then, the thrusting began. Every time she was pounded, she could sense her death drawing nearer. Her passion rose, nearing its peak. The killer pulled the machete out of the chopping block. As he did, the Grim Reaper raised his scythe over her skull. Evelyn found herself suddenly afraid of what was coming. Afraid of cumming. Afraid of the climax. Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked to the cages and called out to her mother.

“Mom!” She screamed in horror. The blade came down and severed Evelyn's head from her shoulders. Her young blood sprayed from her neck as the beast continued to pound her tight pussy. At last, he filled her dead cunt with his seed and threw her headless corpse to the floor. He raised his machete high and split open the girl's ribcage. Plenty of sweet snacks waited within; the lungs, the stomach, the intestines, but most of all the heart. Yes, her pure heart. That was the tastiest of all, for they say that if you eat someone's heart, you also eat their soul. He bent his piggish snout into her open cavity and devoured her innards wantonly. He then chopped open her hips and ran his rough fingers through her genitalia. He pulled the uterus from her body and looked to the cages. The hogs would need feeding too. He brought Evelyn's feminine organ to Sammy's cage and slid the entry point through the bars, as if it were a water bottle. Sammy put her warm lips to Evelyn's cold, dead lips and drank the semen that had built up within. She thought about her friend mournfully.

Evelyn...

The killer took the cum-filled uterus to all the cages and let each of his captives have a drink. Sammy, Mary, Brigitte and Genny all drank deeply from Evelyn's dripping pussy. When they were finished, he put the organ away and lifted Evelyn's head off of the ground. Her face was a blank death-grimace. He ran his finger over her lips. Such a pretty mouth. Still good for something. He brought her down to waist level and stuffed his cock in between those lovely lips. She was not as responsive now that she was a corpse. But her head still gave great head. He eased her up and down his shaft, letting her stroke his length and bring him to orgasm. He squirted his cum at the back of her throat and it trickled out the bottom of her neck. Still dripping, even in death.

The killer brought Evelyn's head to the wall. He placed a nail over her eye and hammered it through her skull. Her head hung high, a constant reminder to the others of the fate that was waiting for them.

Chapter 9

Sammy trembled as her cage was opened. Her pussy throbbed in anticipation of the death that was coming for her. She looked to the head on the wall and her heart fluttered.

Evelyn...

The killer's hand grabbed hold of her hair and dragged her from her prison. She could feel the eyes of the other captives watching her. Lusting after her. Anxious to see her naked. Anxious to see her bleed. Anxious to see her die.

Sammy was anxious too. She had never done it with a man before. Her lust had always been for other women. Even then, she'd always had to keep it a secret. Her whole life was spent in the closet. Well, let it be secret no longer. May the closet door swing open and the all-revealing light shine in. For although she was to about to have sex with a man, she did it for the pleasure of her female spectators. Let their eyes see her lust and may they feel that lust themselves. May they watch her die and mourn the passing of a star.

The killer threw Sammy to the ground and forced her legs open wide. His hands caressed her copper skin and the bush of curly, dark hair that crowned her womanhood. It was not an unpleasant feeling to be touched like that, but it would have been even less unpleasant if it were the touch of one of her fellow captives. Particularly Evelyn.

Evelyn...

Her gaze fell back upon the severed head even as the killer's thick rod was thrust within her. Sammy felt her pussy stretch and break. His shaft chafed her insides and made them bleed. But she never took her eyes off of Evelyn's corpse.

Evelyn, I love you...

Her audience was really getting into it now. Brigitte and her friend had both started touching themselves. Even Mary, that hypocrite, squirmed uncomfortably as she attempted to repress her own arousal. For she was aroused, just as Sammy was too. Yes, Sammy never thought that she would enjoy it with a man, let alone in such a violent and vulgar way. But she was enjoying it. He pounded her pussy and she kept wanting him to go harder, deeper. At last, she felt his cum spray inside the bloody wound that had once been her cunt. Then she saw him raise a knife to her throat. The excitement of her audience grew as it cut through her trachea. The captives thrust their fingers deep inside themselves as Sammy choked on her own blood. It sprayed up on her face and over her breasts as she reached a climax.

I don't want to die, she thought. But when she tried to voice it, the only things that escaped her mouth were a gurgle and a red bubble. The last thing Sammy heard was her audience moan in orgasm.

Her body was then left to stiffen as the next victim was selected.

Chapter 10

Genny had no idea what was happening. All she knew was what she felt. Watching those other girls die and knowing that her turn would be coming soon excited her beyond reason. It was this place. It had to be. She had heard all the stories about Maxwell Meat and the way his old slaughterhouse affected women, how even the most pious and chaste of ladies would be transformed into submissive harlots upon setting foot within. But she had always dismissed them as just ghost stories. Now, she found herself consumed by a passion that she could not satisfy. She could not take her eyes off of Brigitte. Her former lover. Why had that old cow needed to settle down with a husband anyways? Especially when her udders were still so tempting. Genny felt herself getting hot as she watched Brigitte finger herself even while her own daughter died.

When the door to Genny's cage opened, her passion magnified. Maybe Brigitte would finger herself just as lustfully to her death. Rough hands pulled her out of the cage. They tore off her blouse and skirt, leaving her in her underwear. She felt a knife at her back. It cut the straps of her bra and those same rough hands removed the cups from her breasts. She felt those hands squeeze her tits tightly. Violently. Then the blade cut the straps of her panties and let them fall to the gore-soaked earth.

Genny stood naked in the moonlight and let Brigitte watch her. She let her former lover see everything that she had given up and would never get to taste again. For this would be the last time that Brigitte would ever see her naked. The hands pushed her along, a hog to the slaughter, and she saw the fate that her host had prepared for her. Waiting for her with a hungry mouth was a large electric meat grinder. Lover's fluid leaked down Genny's thigh at the sight of it. The thought of being stuffed into that thing and chopped into sausage was turning her on. She wondered what her meat would taste like.

The machine sprang to life, as if possessed. Powerful arms lifted Genny off the ground and lowered her inside. As her feet inched closer to the meat grinder's blades, her clit began to tingle in excitement. Then, the sharp, blissful pain as they tore into her flesh. She watched her feet vanish in a red mist and her legs followed slowly. Pinkish hamburger oozed out the machine's spout as her knees disappeared. The crunching, grinding blades closed in towards her pussy and her lower chamber ached to be satisfied. Just a little further and...

Genny's pussy lips were shredded in the deadly grinder. She moaned in ecstasy as her clit was destroyed. She felt the blades go higher, ripping away more and more of her cunt. She screamed in orgasm as her womb was erased from existence. The blades tore through her belly next, then shredded her magnificent breasts. She glanced at the ground meat that was piling up beside the machine.

It's all there, she thought. My ass, my clit, my womb, my ovaries, my nipples. That's all that's left of them.

Her head disappeared into the meat grinder and, very shortly after, the machine ceased to produce any more hamburger.

Chapter 11

Brigitte loved being tied up. She especially loved being chained up. Strong shackles held her in an “X”-shape, with her legs wide open. That last part excited her the most. Her pussy was so exposed. So vulnerable. She felt rough fingers play with it. Her husband's fingers? No, her husband was dead. He would never play with her lady parts again. But Maxwell Meat was dead too, wasn't he? Burned at the stake hundreds of years ago for trafficking with the Devil. He had been tied up and tortured too. The witch-hunters excelled at that. They had practically invented the art of “interrogation”. Some of their tortures were even highly sexual in nature. Then, they had dragged him through the town, pelting stones at him all the while, and tied him to a wooden pole. Finally, they set him ablaze and listened to him scream while the flames stripped away his flesh.

Why?

All he'd ever wanted was to be loved. That's what they said he'd sold his soul for. Love. Was it really so wrong of him to want that? To want affection? To know the soft touch of a woman?

Did the maidens of his era really need an Inquisition to protect them from that?

This was his revenge. A revenge on the town that had tortured him, murdered him and robbed him of even the most basic of human intimacies. A revenge on the maidens who had accused him. Now nothing could protect those maidens from sharing his gruesome fate. And nothing could defend them from loving him while he made them share it.

Indeed, Brigitte found herself loving the murderous ghost that played with her clit. He might as well have been her husband's spirit come to bring her over to the other side. She closed her eyes and pictured him there instead of the pig-like demon. It was just like the good old days, when he used to tie her up. The only thing missing was a whip. However, something did cut into her back. The thin blade of a fillet knife sliced through her flesh. She shuddered with pleasure as the ghost kept cutting her. Tiny pieces of skin fell from her body. Finally, Brigitte felt aroused as the knife cut into her neck, severing sinews and flesh. She climaxed as she heard the crunch of her neck being disconnected and her consciousness faded into death.

Chapter 12

Mary was the last. The “final girl”, as they say. Of course, she looked more like PJ Soles than Jamie Lee Curtis. Maybe that was her problem. Although she'd always looked at the world's overt sexualization with disgust, especially Hollywood's portrayal of women, she could not curb the lust that boiled inside her. Maybe that's why she'd been targeted.

And yet, it occurred to her that Halloween was not actually a story about sexuality versus chastity, but of logical thought versus superstition. Jamie Lee Curtis was the one being stalked, not her costars. She was targeted for her disbelief in the supernatural and her friends, who were clearly having more fun than her, were murdered to chip away at her hubris. And as the murderer continued to defy her ability to rationalize him, she finally admitted that she believed in the Boogeyman and her arc as a character came to a close.

Despite claims about the final girl's supposed “purity”, Jamie Lee Curtis was visibly braless during her walk home from school, Adrienne King drank, smoked grass and played strip monopoly, Amy Steel had no qualms over having sex with John Furey, and Olivia Hussey was not only pregnant, but wanted an abortion! So why was Mary's film studies professor so intent on teaching her otherwise? Perhaps it was so she would see the world through a particular prism of thought rather than allowing her to interpret it for herself. So she would project a specific form of morality onto what was effectively amoral.

And there was the cruel irony. By projecting those morals onto the slasher genre, it was actually she who was sexualizing these characters, not the filmmakers.

The final girl myth was just that. A myth. Mary was saved for last because her pig-faced killer wanted her to see the others die. He wanted to chip away at her hubris. And now it was her arc that was coming to a close.

The last cage opened and Mary whimpered with fear. There would be no stopping it. No climactic showdown with the killer. No “Final Chapter”. Her attacker was back from the dead to begin with. If death was not permanent for him the first time, why should it be permanent any other time? Isn't repeating the same action over and over again and expecting the results to change Einstein's definition of insanity?

His rough hands grasped her feet and pulled her screaming from the cage. It was going to happen and she was powerless to prevent it. She trembled with terror as he spread her legs violently.

Face it, she told herself. You enjoy it. You liked it when he did it to you at the window. You're enjoying the fuck out of it now.

Mary was enjoying it. No matter how much she denied it, an ecstasy filled her body as the killer rammed his dick into her tight pussy. He never stopped thrusting, not even as he sunk his fangs into her breasts. Mary moaned in pleasure as he tore out her implants with his teeth.

Damage me, she thought. Break me.

The thrusting continued and and so did the fangs. Mary's belly was ripped open and her intestines pulled out, followed by her organ sack and mammary glands. When the killer finally came inside of her, she no longer moaned.

She was hollow.

This was a final girl free zone.

Chapter 13

Evelyn awoke to find herself in Hell. It didn't look the way she'd imagined. No licking flames of hellfire lurked to scorch her flesh. No satanic Saint Peter waited to usher her through the blackened gates. It just looked like a maze. But it was strangely familiar. Of course, she was back in the college library. The events of that afternoon seemed like they happened a thousand years ago. The idea occurred that they might happen again.

Not here, she thought. Anywhere else and it will be enjoyable. But not here. This place it's... it's too creepy.

However, a large powerful hand covered her mouth. This time, she saw that it had bright red skin.

No...

Another hand went under her skirt and lifted her leg. Evelyn smelled brimstone.

Please...

A large cock was rammed into her pussy and she screamed in horror. But the Devil would have his way with her tonight.

And for all eternity.

The End

 No.4829

Love the supernaturally enhanced sex and sexual dying. Not so much a fan of the giant man pig, but the allure of the slaughterhouse is nicely fleshed out.

Too bad about Sammy and Evelyn though. Evelyn invited Sammy to die with her, but Sammy ended up dying separately. And Evelyn didn't get to enjoy her afterlife in hell. It came out of left field for me too, since previously souls were described as spending an eternity in masochistic sexual bliss.

 No.5442

Awesome, loved this. How big were you imagining Mary's tits to be?

 No.5448

I pictured her as a d-cup. Glad you liked it.

 No.5977

I think this is my new fave <3

 No.7689

Video Nasty

Anita Slutteasian trembled as she unwrapped the retro cartridge. “SLUTer house III: Video Nasty,” read the cover. Anita, of course, had heard of this game only in whispers. Its legend had begun with Rick Roessler's “Slaughterhouse” film. According to internet legend, an excellent sequel was made in 1994 called “sLaughterhouse II: Pigsby's Revenge”. The casing in the title had been intentionally reversed in order to emphasize the “laughter” in “slaughter”.

But the story for the third film was much darker.

For starters, the title was altered from “sLaughterhouse” to “SLUTer House” in order to market its hyper-sexualization. The film itself ended up being banned and every last print of it was destroyed. However, the tie-in video game managed to survive, albeit only a handful of copies ever surfaced. According to Anita's research, this was supposed to be the most sexist and misogynistic game ever created.

Naturally, she had to review it for her YouTube channel. She recalled once hearing about a book called “Slaughterhouse Five” and wondered if it was also part of the series. Disgusting.

Not without trepidation, she slid the cartridge into her SNES and powered it on.

The first thing she heard was the guttural grunting of a pig. Then, two red eyes appeared on her TV screen. They weren't humanoid eyes in any way. They were something else. Something demonic.

Before Anita could react, a ghostly white hand stretched out of the screen and grabbed her by the throat. She tried to scream, but her windpipe was completely blocked. She realized that she couldn't breathe.

From out of the TV emerged a large, powerful man with a pig's head. Maxwell Meat, the final boss of “SLUTer House III”. He lifted Anita off of the ground and squeezed her neck. In his free hand, he held a butcher knife.

He slid the weapon down the top of her shirt and sliced it open, exposing her bare, tanned breasts. He licked her nipples, then began suckling on her tits as though they were udders. He then threw Anita onto the hard floor. She cried in pain as the back of her head began to bleed. But Maxwell Meat was not done with her. Her placed his heavy foot overtop of her throat and pressed down, pinning her to the ground. He then reached down and lifted her black skirt. Anita rarely wore panties. She saw underwear as symbolic of patriarchal oppression. Now, however, she wished that she had a steel chastity belt, as the monster on top of her began to lick her shaved pussy. His tongue felt like sandpaper against her clit. After several licks, she realized that it wasn't cum which was dripping down her inner thighs. Then came the teeth. The monster sank its fangs into her flesh. Anita screamed as her womanhood was torn from her body. She looked down and was horrified to see her own uterus hanging from the beast's bloodstained mouth. The monster then sank its claws into her thighs and lifted her off of the floor. It held her upside down and pulled her legs in opposite directions. Anita felt her hips pop and a torrent of blood ran down her naked body. It dripped from her breasts like milk. But the beast wasn't through making her suffer. Anita's belly split open and her intestines spilled out. Then, one by one, she felt her ribs snap, until she was little more than a head attached to two hunks of meat and bone. Finally, Maxwell Meat stomped on her chin, splattering her skull into a million pieces. He threw aside what remained of Anita Slutteasian and left it to rot.

 No.9501

This is fantastic!

 No.12775

bump



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