Hello everyone, back with a new story! It's in kind of a different format than usual. Not just straight prose. Was interesting to write, and I'm planning on more. So without further ado:

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The following emails were sent on the 29th of November 20XX, shortly after the release of the highly anticipated new games console, the Real, and the latest installment of the long-running Realms of Rampage fantasy RPG franchise, which utilised advanced technology to reflect in-game activity onto the user. This exchange, prompted by a Ms. Karen Dziekanowski, is one of many similar email chains sent in the aftermath of the game’s release.

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TO: realtechsupport@mail.com
FROM: Karen Dziekanowski (e-mail address censored for privacy)
SUBJECT: Some Quick Questions!

Hello,

Just want to ask a few quick questions about the Real and the new Realms of Rampage game. LOVE the game so far, so immersive, like nothing I’ve ever played! But there are one or two little things that I thought I’d just clear up with you guys.

Firstly: I know that you’re trying to be super realistic and stuff, but do I really need to get SO wet when it starts to rain? I feel like I might catch a cold-is that even possible? I’m playing blood mage so I don’t have very waterproof armor. And the T-shirt I’m wearing is positively soaked, it’s practically see-through! I hope there are umbrellas in the game, lol!

Speaking of armor, I unequipped my standard mage-sandals in game and it made the shoes on my feet disappear as well. Like, my actual shoes, in real life. When I put the sandals back on my PC, my shoes didn’t come back. Is this a bug? They were $120 so I’d be a little peeved if they didn’t come back.

Hope to hear back soon, so I can get back to exploring the world of Ovara!

-Karen Dziekanowski

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TO: Karen
From: realtechsupport@email.com
Hi Karen,

First of all, thank you for purchasing both the new Real™ home entertainment centre, as well as Realms of Rampage: The New Sun. The fans are what makes the Realms games so special, and your continued support drives us to make the best product possible for you.

With regards to your queries: Firstly, we recommend purchasing the official Realms of Rampage: The New Sun strategy guide for only $19Post too long. Click here to view the full text.

Aphrodite

She is worshiped and beloved; a vision of beauty, a figure of grace, and a symbol of sex, with a form crafted to be adored and to be an object of lust. Resting in her chamber, her tall, sweeping crown of spired horns curls back with a gleam in the light as she brushes her hands up a thigh, running the fingers from her knee and up across its length, fanning them out and letting each tactile sensor tingle with sensation as she draws them slowly and lustfully up. She waits for her visitor--a suitor of appropriately fine breeding and form--with an anticipation honed by the countless visitations and hours of passionate and savage ravagings; it is, after all, what she was made for; it is what she was programmed and shaped and perfected to be: a lover of android forms; a giver of pleasure; a performer of exquisite skill; a goddess of sex and joy.

The chamber opens, and her suitor waits in the door; a tall and handsomely built machine shaped with a wide and stout frame, whose sweeping lines and curling accents lead her eyes to all the places necessary to excite her senses. His own optics gaze on her, studying her full and voluptuous gynoid form from the tall crown of horns down over her long and slender neck, and over the round and full fluid-filled sacks that form her breasts. There he pauses, studying the transparent plastics and the clear fluid swirling within, transfixed by the attached sensors that are her nipples and the apertures that rhythmically twitch, opening and shutting just slightly with each breath in wild, yet restrained, anticipation, the tiny slatted receptacles offering him just enough of a glimpse at the machinery beneath to court his arousal.

At length he enters, the door shutting behind him for a measure of privacy, and he is drawn to the broad curves of her hips and legs as she stretches and kicks them out luridly, and even the coy bent of her arms on the seat behind her as she steadies herself lends sultry imagery to the vision; for the very act pushes her chest forward and up, and the twitching nipples reach longingly out towards him as he nears. Her expression remains placid and sedate, even as she bats her eyes slowly, and still her countenance is unreadable when he stops before her, takes her breasts in his hands, and rubs and squeezes and caresses them in small, taut circles on her chest; still placid, even, as he brushes her nipples against his thighs; still placid, even, as he squeePost too long. Click here to view the full text.

//Preparations//

Ebony smiled as she looked up at the two girls before her, and then back to the request list she had been given.

She had killed in the past, of course, but those were people willing to die to become dinner for others. These two, as she noted by their bindings, struggling, and glares they gave her, were far from willing, and yet the request was that both would be butchered, cooked, and served as a feast.

The eldritch servant puffed out her cheeks in annoyance before folding the paper several times into a square and putting it into her mouth; swallowing it in the process.

She looked back up to the two, one a green zombie, stitches in places to hold limbs in place, and a light-brown skinned girl with a long purple ponytail. Rottytops and Shantae, they were called.

Ebony considered her options. She had to prepare some kind of meal with the two of them, since that was the request of her patrons, but her rule of not killing the unwilling clung to her mind and prevented her from acting.

A nyotaimori style did come to mind, but the request said cooked and neither of them appeared willing to die. Amputating the limbs was an option, but the human couldn't get new limbs like the zombie likely could. She did not know of any magic that allowed for regeneration or revival in this world, so the simple solution was out.

Had the two been brought in dead, strangled or throats slit or something like that, there would be no problem. Having them slain now would make her just as responsible for their deaths as her patrons.

And then, an idea came to her and she smiled up at the two of them. "If the two of you want to get out of this alive, I will need for you to work with me. Will you?" She asked.

Both gave her a kind of annoyed glare; thinking she was joking.

This prompted her to frown and look at them similarly. "I am many things, primarily a cook, but none of them are a murderer. Unless you two want to die, I won't kill either of you, but I do have to make you both part of the meal I prepare for the orcs that brought you in. So, what will it be: work with me and leave alive, or I cut off your limbs and cook those, and then leave the both of you to the orcs outside?" She asked.

The two girls looked at one another, and muffled their words through their gags... which Ebony then removed to hear their words.

Both of them were unsure oPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

So apparently the original thread got bumped off the board. That makes it a bit harder to post my newest chapter.

This is a Standalone(ish) Sequel to Liara offers her Azure (Found Here: http://www.hentai-foundry.com/stories/user/thevisitorblack/14368/Liara-offers-her-Azure ) and Allers offers an Interview (Found Here: http://www.hentai-foundry.com/stories/user/thevisitorblack/18828/Allers-Offers-Interview ). Chapter 4 occurs at the exact same time as Falere Offers Dinner (Found here: http://www1.asstr.org/files/Authors/TheVisitorBlack/Fanfiction/Mass%20Effect%20Series/Falere%20Offers%20Dinner.txt ). All of the previous stories can be found in text form on my Hentai-Foundry page or my ASSTR site (here: http://www1.asstr.org/files/Authors/TheVisitorBlack/Fanfiction/Mass%20Effect%20Series/).

Summary: Tali gives herself to Garrus as meat, and Garrus decides to play with his Food.

Chapter 1 - Tali Asks
It had been a week since Shepard and Traynor had eaten Liara's Azure; a week since they had consigned the Asari to the kitchen for parts; and in that week almost everyone had had a chance to enjoy Liara's meat except for Tali and Garrus. Liara had been found in the refrigerator the next day, dead. Shepard had had her skinned and parted out almost immediately, reserving a few choice cuts like Liara's breasts for herself and her new lover, but giving generously of the rest. Between EDI's Asari tentacle gumbo, Vega's ground Asari burgers, and the large leg that had been roasted two days ago, the smell of Liara's meat cooking seemed to fill the crew deck almost constantly and it tickled her senses even through her Suit's filtering whenever she went to visit Garrus in the central battery. Even girl talk in the port lounge wasn't immune from Liara's presence as she'd discovered talking to Samantha Traynor about her new relationship with the ship's captain. Unable to restrain her enthusiasm aboPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

"Shadowcat, back off!" Wolverine's snarl turned into a grunt of pain as she lunged forward through her teammate's immaterial body to intercept the wraith's blow.

Magik's gauntlet closed around her girlfriend's arm and pulled her back. The Soulsword armor didn't care about things like tangibility. She pulled Kitty back and used the Soulsword to parry the next attack, sending the wraith reeling from the pain of the blade's touch. "Your training is just fouling you up, since these things can hit you." The short, slender, young blonde woman looked far more imposing, with her long hair cascading down a full suit of silver-white plate armor studded with spikes and horns. Her face was barely visible through the menacing helmet, but Kitty could see the concern in her eyes. The four-foot-long, ornate, gleaming broadsword did nothing to make her more comforting.

Kitty huffed and went where she was told, letting Magik and Wolverine handle the hideous extradimensional invaders. Every hit Laura took made Kitty gasp, though, and she could see how pale Illyana's face was getting. Her teammates were having a rough time, and there was nothing she could do. "Illy, can you portal them away? Dump them in some hell dimension?"

Magik paused and thought, then nodded. "Wolverine, buy me about fifteen seconds," she ordered.

Kitty always felt a little funny when her girlfriend used her "demon warlord" voice. Her dark blue jacket and tights happened to be good at concealing her stiffening nipples and her moistening crotch. With nothing to do for fifteen seconds but keep her hands to herself, the brown-haired woman sneaked a hand down to squeeze her mound while her teammates were distracted. Going on missions with her girlfriend always made her hot, but this was even worse than usual.

Laura's growl indicated what she thought of being left alone against five aliens that could shred her flesh while barely feeling her claws. Still, she dove in headfirst, lashing out with the claws on all four limbs. Muscular and fast, the new Wolverine looked a little like her predecessor if one were to squint really hard. The flashing claws emerging from her fists were matched by one on each foot, however, and the lightly-armored bodysuit clung to her large breasts and wide hips in ways that made Kitty pay attention as she never had to Logan. Her medium-length hair whipped around as she fought, as unruly as her "father's" hair in its own way.
Post too long. Click here to view the full text.

A quick story I just had to write down. Comments and critique welcome. Enjoy!

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John smiled as a young, beautiful redhead entered his butcher shop.

”Hi,” she said shyly.

”Hello sweetie, what’s your name?”

”I’m Nora, I’m here for my processing. My number was drawn during the lottery this morning,” she answered, quite calm about it all.

”Nice to meet you Nora, I’m John and I’ll be your butcher this afternoon,” John said. “Listen, the shop closes in five minutes, why don’t you go wait in the back? And while you’re there, please remove your clothes. Just saves a bit of time, you know?”

”Of course, sir,” the girl said. She gave the butcher a sweet little smile before heading towards the back door, admiring the displays of various cuts of meat on her way.

The last minutes of opening time went by uneventfully, only one customer came by to purchase some cuts to have for dinner later that evening. John used the time to look over the information he had been sent about Nora. He learned that she was thirteen years old, had average grades and came from a normal, lower middle class household. She was quite athletic, swimming being her favourite pastime. John turned the opening sign in the shop window around so that it read ‘closed’ from the outside, and locked the door. He was looking forward to the afternoon’s events.

When John entered the back of the shop, Nora had obediently removed her clothing and underwear, though she was covering her breasts with her right arm.

“How nice of you to remove your clothing, Nora. Now please stand up straight and let your arms fall to the side.”

The girl did as she was told, but blushed quite heavily. After all, she was not used to being naked in front of men. In fact she had not been nude in front of anyone since she was a toddler. John was able to get a good look at her, starting his inspection of the sweet little teen. She was truly a beauty, her naturally ginger hair falling to just below her shoulders. She had a beautiful face a cute button nose and gorgeous bright green eyes. Her breasts were small but definitely developing, and very pert. Her areolae were a very light shade of pink and quite swollen, crowned by tiny, slightly darker nipples. Her tummy was flat, but not muscular, and it lead nicely down to her hips, quite wide compared to her slender frame. Her ass was deliciously pert and shapely, and her lPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

This is an excerpt from the introduction to Lami Pi Productions, still in progress.

Jackson was careful in serving only select clients who had their hands clean, with no criminal records or having any known connection to organized crime. On the other hand, having had many meetings with them and having served their human transportation needs for years, he was certain some of his clients were Mafia Dons.

After all, the slave trade, whether it be white or international cunts, would be a fundamental moneymaker for the Mafia, and Jackson was certain the mob controlled all of the areas where the quiet movement of humans would be valuable, such as prostitution and the production of violent and possibly deadly child pornography.

Two of his special customized containers bearing restrained and anaesthetized human cargo were due to arrive in San Francisco from the Philippines. They contained a fresh shipment of 48 beautiful young females of various ages, about half of the shipment consisting of delightful pre-teens, age 12 and younger.

His packers had informed him 6 of the girls were American, 18 were Europeans, all taken captive in either Manila or Jakarta. The remainder or the girls were classic young Pilipino beauties, several of them children as young as 6 years old. Jackson knew the consignment would end up at a private country club, one that with good reason privately referred to itself as the Cuntry Club.

Their destination would be at the Club’s private resort in the hills of Southern California, just over 100 miles northwest of Los Angeles. Jackson was familiar with the Club and its nefarious activities, as he had been a guest there at an event a couple of years ago, an educational experience in which he got to practice his horsemanship.

It was incredibly rare that anyone was ever invited to attend an event at the Cuntry Club, as it was necessarily very private, but because of the services he provided, Jackson had earned special standing with a couple of key members, including the Club’s president.

The invitation surprised him, but he was happy to accept. The man who had invited him arranged for Jackson to be picked up and taken to the Club’s estate by his personal chauffeur. He was given a riding outfit, and joined a group of a dozen Cuntry Club members on what they called a Doe Hunt. Only members got to carry rifles.

A tall, lanky 14-year-old girl, naked except for a deer tail stuck tPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

Peephole

m/f, hanging, footplay, necrophilia, frottage

Even though he could easily afford to live elsewhere, Carl lived in an incredibly shitty neighborhood. Drug dealers and addicts alike roamed the cracked, weed-riddled streets in broad daylight. Despite always being left empty, his car was broken into on an almost monthly basis. Scarcely a night went by without loud sirens blaring in the early morning hours.

The apartment itself was shitty as well. The building was an old house that had been divided into a bunch of tiny one-room, one-bathroom studios. Carl’s was on the second story and there was one more on that level, two on the ground floor and one in the basement. The ancient wooden floors creaked at the slightest provocation. Hot showers rarely lasted for more than a minute. The walls were basically uninsulated and the house was always sweltering in the summer and freezing in the winter.

The house had had an attic but when the roof had leaked into it, years ago, the owned had decided to just tear it out rather than fix it up. The result was that the two second story apartments seemed incredibly spacious because of the high roof/ceiling. But the exposed rafter beams gave the apartment a dreary, industrial feel. And now, when the roof leaked during a storm, it did so directly into Carl’s apartment, prompting the use of strategically placed buckets.

Carl had originally come to live there when he was a dirt-poor undergrad, subletting the room for the summer from an acquaintance. The rent was insanely low and so, despite its flaws, he agreed to stay after the person he was subletting from said that they didn’t want to come back. He eventually graduated with a degree in Computer Science and quickly found a job in the city. He made almost six figures but he still lived in the dilapidated old house for one reason:

The peephole.

It wasn’t until the end of his second year in the apartment that he discovered it. His room had come furnished with a few simple things: a small wooden coffee table, scratched and wobbly. Two beat-up bar stools for a tiny kitchen counter. A chest of drawers with an indefinable and unremovable smell to it. A few assorted paintings of banal landscapes, faded with age. And a large mirror, hung on the wall that divided his room from that of his second-story neighbor.

The mirror in particular had aPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

Lizzy had moved to the back of the bus ten minutes ago, her class was small and hardly anyone sat in the back. The back two rows of seats were completely empty with only one girl sitting in the third row from the back. Its not that Lizzy wanted to be all the way back there, she was a friendly social girl who loved to be in the group. Alas the long bus ride had her stomach doing loop the loops and she started to feel sick. It wasn't too bad...until she started farting. The first few slipping out of hee silently without much of a stink...the next two however crackled and popped as they escaped her rear end.

She had clenched her cheeks, but another final one squeaked out of her, this one carrying a foul stink that had her whole class looking for the one who 'dealt' it. Lucky for her no one pegged her, and a little later she snuck off to the back of the bus, the building pressure in her gut getting more and more painful as she kept holding in her gas. Once she was safely in the back of the bus she peered over the seat to make certain no one was nearby, or paying attention to her. Luckily the rest of her class already began laughing and joking about other things. With a relieved sigh she scooched over too the window, and let loose a gnarly fart that rumbled her little cheeks as it sprayed foul hot air into her panties

The little girl sighed as she felt like a balloon being deflated, the large fart relieving a huge amount of pressure off of her tummy. The foul stink that followed didn't help her though, a hot nasty smell that assaulted even her own nose.

"Bleh..." Lizzy whined as she cracked a window. Her stomach grumbling as she did so. Her own smelly toot left her even more nauseated. Her insides begining to squirm and writhe as thr bus moved along an uneven, winding road. Lizzy shook her head and exhaled, feeling a different kind of pressure building up in her tummy. She took a few deep breaths, that disturbing tickling sensation coming up in her throat. She felt like she wanted to burp, but knew if she did she would just upchuck all over herself, so she simply tried to ignore thenbuilding pressure and focus on steadying herself.

"I'm not gonna...throw up...I'm not...gonna throw up. I'm not gonna throw up!" She chanted to herself, hoping as always, a possitive attitude would get her through this. Then with no warning came another fart, bubling and popping. Lizzy gasped and jumped up, clenching her cheeks as somethPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

Sorry I posted the wrong version. Mods please delete the other one.

Let me know if you like this story. It starts out pretty standard but gets pretty fucked up in part two. I have a story arc of Sal the gangters origins, and how he got his taste for cruelty, and eating people. I also have a lot of ideas on how sal and the chef expand their empire to become the first Michelin started cannibal restaurant.

Usual disclaimer this is just a weird fantasy in my head, I in no way condone any of the activities in this story.

Part one "one of the boys"

Frank Sardone was a all American success story. Growing up on the wrong side of the tracks in NJ he had self made himself into a successful business man. He studied haute cuisine in Paris on a full ride scholarship, and now owned a large restaurant that had become a institution over the past 20 years. He drove a big Cadillac escalade, and had a huge house. He had a beautiful family with 7 kids, and a gorgeous wife, who kept her figure even after being pregnant for almost a decade straight. They were expecting their 8th in about 2-3 weeks now. His wife was very pregnant, but this was routine for her.

Frank only really had one problem, and that was himself, and his bad habits. In his old neighborhood almost all his friends went into a life of crime, those that weren’t dead or in jail, had risen to chief mobsters. He still hung out with them all the time. Most nights he would go down to Sal’s Gentle Men’s club, after closing the shop. It was a one stop shop for any depravity you had.

Out front they had a strip club, staffed with mostly 16-17 year old run away girls. For $200 you could fuck them, and for a few more bucks you could do whatever else you wanted to them. In the back there was a huge private area, much bigger then the front strip club. You needed to get past a row of goons to get in, but once inside you were in another country. Basically anything went back here, they had a full Casino, huge lounge area for sports betting, drugs were openly consumed, and traded in huge quantities.

Over the years Frank had become a fixture over here. Getting in real tight with the made guys. Sometimes blurring the line between a mobster, and the civilian he was. He got real close to the owner Sal, and would spend time in the most private rooms in the far back. Here is where the high stakes poker games took place, and buy in started at $500. Fortunes could be won, or lost in a Post too long. Click here to view the full text.