Reposted by request. I might go back and add more if I feel like it, but for now here's what was in the thread before.

The Business Trip

Day 1

“Welcome to Risa 12.1, one of the shining jewels of the Risa system! Here you can find an introduction to what this beautiful moon has to offer as well as its rich history and culture.
History:
Risa 12.1 was actually colonized long before its sister world Risa 9, but in our case the world didn’t really open up to tourism on a large scale until much more recently. It was first settled 200 years ago by what is technically a cult, founded upon a belief that many of the modern world’s problems come from humans’ isolation of themselves from our world through covering up our bodies, especially the parts which would contact it most intimately - the feet.
The settlers developed a belief system centered around finding happiness in the world and in each other through going barefoot, and as is often the case with small societies, to protect their beliefs they grew more radical over time. Before long they had reached a point where all members had both of their arms removed at the shoulder in order to maximize the interactions of their feet with the world and with each other, a tradition which has been proudly continued on Risa 12.1 to this day.
For a while, the unusual policies of our founders largely minimized interest in tourism, but after Risa 9’s re-terraforming to make it into the beach world it is now, the entire Risa system received renewed attention from the travel industry, and now 12.1 has become nearly as popular a destination itself.
Culture:
As you most likely are aware, all residents born on Risa 12.1 have their arms removed at birth, and all immigrants are required to submit to a double shoulder disarticulation on arrival, coupled with a NanoBlock injection. In recent decades, the rules have been relaxed somewhat, and visitors are allowed to wear a pair of cybernetic arms, although you’ll likely find little use for them during your stay!
Shoes do not exist on Risa 12.1, and consequently for the duration of your visit we strongly encourage you to follow suit and keep your feet bare. Don’t worry about this, as heated floors and clean, plush carpets await you everywhere you go.
It may seem odd at first, but 12.1’s barefoot policies have been shown through professional studies to have contributed vitally to its present happy and peaceful culture. People on the moon hPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

I got this idea recently and I quite liked it, so I thought I'd toss it out here and see if we can get some people to play. The rules are as basic as it gets: majority vote, in case of a tie I flip a coin or something; write-ins generally allowed and will be considered if they get substantial support (or I really like the idea).

Here's the twist, though. The point isn't so much 'winning' the story, as it is repeatedly encountering ways to die gruesomely; not unlike I Wanna be the Guy or Demonophobia, as interactive fiction. (I was half tempted to keep this part secret at first but I didn't want to piss off people coming here expecting a long and dramatic story.)

The first story I write without translator. I hope it works! I am not an expert but I think it sound a little bit more solid this way… ;)


The Live of Number 562.

Today is her day! She knows not much but you never forget your own big day! After all, 562 have fulfill her training last month. 562 is small and hasn’t much meat but she helps herself with her naturally cuteness. With her smooth skin and nature red hair, she gets through all big test. This makes her happy, because she wants to be a “full body”. After all, all want to be “full body”. Girls that’s are not cute enough become just parts. For the first time in her live, she allowed to wear the maid uniform, every meat girl wears if her day comes. The day, when customers can order you.
Her first customer want a girl with a little bit more meat. The second one search for a blonde girl… But with the new pair, at table 3, she has a good feeling.
“I am 562. I will be happy to be your main dish!” She speaks her text. She never forgets this, because the teachers hit you, if you make a failure.
“She looks to young and unexperienced. I think we better take another girl” The Woman of the pair say.
562 explain friendly. “I’m trained for 7 years. I have learned everything, you need to know as a meat girl.”
“Look at her, I am sure, she makes a great spit roast.” The men say.
“You sure? I not see much meat at her body…” the women say skeptical.
The men already sound confident. “look how cute she is, I’m absolutely sure!”
562 don’t want to lose this chance. “I can promise you, that’s my meat will be delicious. My parents earn much money as the sell me. I also get great grades in every meat test!”
“Well, it’s your present.” The women answer. “If you like her.” She takes out a coupon and push it into 562 hands. “We order 562. Live spit roast!”
Overzealous, 562 run to the cook. “We have a new order.”
The cook looks shortly on the coupon and say. “You know, what to too right?”
She nods. “Yes! I got a A at preparation.”
Like in her training, she picks her own Spit. She knows that it is important, that the Spit thickness fit to herself. It’s her last ride after all, she will not get another try. She finds just the right one. It’s the same spit, that she has used for her training. This one fit just right. With her old friend, she returns to the table. The cook already prepared the grill set. Next part in the preparation striping! It’s a little bit sad, bPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

Hi guys, just a quick little story this time.

Caroline was sitting alone in a sterile, tiled room in the local meat processing plant. She was just minutes from death, the excitement made her pulse rise and her breathing became fast and shallow. She had been expecting this for some time, more than half of her friends had been taken away during the last couple of months and Caroline had figured out that one day they would come for her too. A truck had come to her house early in the morning, and two uniformed men had knocked on the door and informed her parents that their oldest daughter had been selected for processing, and had to come with them immediately. Within a couple of minutes Caroline had been woken up, gotten dressed, and said goodbye to her whole family. At the processing facility she had been stripped, washed and shaved before being placed in a room to await her execution. There were many others there, and they were collected in groups of four at a time. Caroline had watched group after group leave the room, until only five remained. After some time four more names were called, but not hers. The four others left, and after the door closed she was alone.

The room was eerily quiet. Caroline tried to calm herself down and focused on taking long, deep breaths. Her mind drifted off and all kinds of thoughts filled her mind. She wondered what dying would be like. She had heard that it was painful and frightening, but she had also heard rumours of pleasant, even erotic deaths. The young girl had recently discovered the pleasure she could get from her own body, and had lately masturbated almost every night before going to sleep.

Her hands were resting in her lap, but somehow they found their way to her crotch. Her fingers traced the area around her outer labia and she was enjoying the sensation of a completely bare pussy. She had never shaved it before, after all it had only recently started growing, but she liked the feeling. Slowly she moved to her outer lips, moving her hand up and down its length and slipping a finger between her outer and inner lips. She moved even further in, gently massaging her inner lips and the area around her clit. Caroline licked her fingers and coated them with her saliva, before moving her hand to her pussy again, rubbing it in with her spit. After a little while she could feel her own lubrication coming from her vagina. She knew she was ready, and inserted a finger, working it in and out, slowly but fiPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

Panic and horror were being washed away from Simon’s mind by an itching despair and a painful yearning to accept what has happened to him. The desire to make peace with what he was going through was searing his mind. He felt like peace was just one more step away, but hope was pulling him back relentlessly, gently strangling him with its caring hands.

It felt like many years have passed since the day when Simon was an ordinary man living an ordinary life. Once again he tried to remember the last day of that life. He was hanging on to every detail, looking if there was something he missed or forgot, anything that could be a hint to what was about to happen to him. But no, it was an ordinary cup of coffee, those were his colleagues having an ordinary conversation about football, a usual fake smile on the TV screen in the cafeteria, those were the usual buttons he pressed in the elevator… It was a very usual day, and that memory was fading away, losing its colors, turning to ashes as it was smoldering in his mind.
Simon was surrounded by darkness, in most literal and horrifying sense of the word. He felt like his feet weren’t touching anything, neither did he feel anything keeping him suspended above ground. He could move his hands and feet freely, but he couldn’t see them or figure out why he didn’t feel his own touch on his skin. The sensation that his body is made of gas was so unnatural and scary that Simon would spend hours, convincing himself that he exists. His mind was a slowly sinking ship in an endless sea of madness, and he knew, that even if by some miracle his life would return to normal he will never be who he was again.

He tried to pinch himself, bite his tongue, break his finger, poke his eye, anything that would make him feel something, anything that would keep him from going back to pointlessly rummaging in his memories. But his movements were so slow and weak he’d hardly be able to push a crumpled piece of paper in zero gravity. The fact that he was still breathing was one of the most disturbing things he was rediscovering again and again. He was trying to scream, but either he was too weak to make any sound or the ominous void around him was absorbing the sound before it was coming out from his lungs. At some point he realized he can’t even hear his own heartbeat.

Sometimes Simon would just stare into the endless blackness when his mind got too exhausted to shuffle thoughts around, he was falling to a short shalPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

Invasion: Diner

It was approaching ten in the evening, but the small diner was full of activity. Surrounded by trees, nestled at the foot of the hill, it would take a keen eye to spot it from the highway as the tarred road ascended the hill. The location could have been better, but during the day the diner drew in enough customers to keep afloat, daylight helping to make the signs leading to it more noticeable.

As it was holiday season, the number of customers was usually quite low as people left for the coast and the national parks. It was rare for evenings to be a busy time, which is why the manager had left the diner with only one cook and one waitress. Serving 12 customers with such a skeleton staff was a difficult task, but they were up to the task.

Tami Patel was a university student, her mother having insisted that she get a part-time job in order to get experience. Tami’s submissive personality did not allow her to argue, but the job itself was not that bad. Unfortunately that same personality had also not let her argue with the manager, resulting in a hectic night as she worked to serve all of the customers. She moved gracefully around the diner, her Indian heritage clear in her dusky skin, cheerful brown eyes and shoulder length black hair. A sweet smile was on her face as she delivered orders, her baggy black and red uniform hiding any possible curves.

Next to the door sat the Bartlett family. All four were tired and hungry, having spent the better part of the day in the hospital. Josh Bartlett had had what he had thought to be a heart attack, but tests had ruled that out as a possible cause for his crushing chest pain. The doctors thought he had had a panic attack and he had been discharged, having been told come back in a few days for additional tests.

All of the Bartletts had short cropped brown hair, except for 6 year old Vicky, whose long brown hair was tied into a ponytail. Vicky and Anna both wore dresses, the girl’s a pale blue and her mother’s a white one with a print of pink and blue flowers. Anna’s green eyes were shared by Adam, her 8 year old son. He was dressed in blue shorts and a green T-shirt, contrasting with the formal blue trousers and collared white shirt of his father, who shared his blue eyes with his daughter.

Further along sat Claire St. James and her boyfriend Edward Stresny. The teenagers had dropped in for a bite, hungry after the concert that they had attended. Edward was drPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

Contrary to what I thought, I just finished another story and I thought I could share it here until I have my site up and running (its not that easy to find a good host for something like this, especially as I want to start adding the photos I use as reference...). As always, if you read it, please leave a comment and let me know what you think.

tags: M/f, MMM+/f, non-cons, teen, first, rape, anal, throating, prostitution, bagging, snuff

disclaimer: This story is entirely fictional, along with all characters and events described in it. Any resemblance with real life is just a coincidence. Harming another human being is wrong and in no way I am trying to convey the opposite. Please, don't do anything like this!

---

I nervously checked the time one more time, but the time was still the same. One more minute, and the day was over. On the front of the classroom, Ms. Campbell was trying to explain how to solve for X in the equation she had copied in the blackboard, but I wasn't really paying attention

When the bell finally rang, all the students jumped out of their seats, wanting to be the first out.

“Remember that you have to finish the exercises in pages 33 and 34 by Monday, and it wouldn't be a bad idea to start preparing for the exam on Friday!” she said, raising her voice above the noise, but no one was paying her any attention

Ms. Campbell was a good teacher, but she was a bit too soft sometimes.

“Jasmine!” she said looking at me as I passed by her desk. “Can you wait for a minute, I want to talk to you.”

Suddenly feeling a bit worried, I waited while everybody else left. I looked longingly at the door as they all walked away, and then we were alone.

Ms. Campbell sat on her desk, running her hands over her skirt as she always did when she was about to give a speech. She was only 25 years old, with blond hair and a beautiful face, but looking into her brown eyes made me uncomfortable.

“Jasmine, I am a little worried about you. Is everything okay?” she asked me.

I wasn't sure if my voice would crack, so I simply nodded quickly. I turned around towards the door, but she grabbed my arm with one hand.

“I have been paying attention, Jasmine. Something is happening. Your grades are down, and you stopped participating in the class. I talked to Mr. Johnson, and he said it was the same in his class.” she said, after letting me go.

I stood still, looking at the flooPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

"We fucking killed that brat and we're proud of it!" Bellowed the scarred, tight muscled and thoroughly evil beauty to the citizenry below. Her fate, along with the fates of several female bandits under her employ, had been decided.

The axe.

It's a shame, thought much of the crowd watching the prisoners on stage, that such a lovely lady had to be such a wicked bitch. Her erotic and trained body was a marvel, though she wore only a prisoner's rags to display it. Her sculpted abs only served to make her soft chest more exciting, and her hips flared just enough to tell anyone at a glance that she was ripe for the breeding.

And yet, a rotten fruit cannot be tasted. The bandit captain was bent forward to her hands and knees, kept in place by chains. Her head rested securely on a stump with many notches. Men and boys at the stage's back cursed the rags wrapping her waist and hanging behind, as they hid the most forbidden areas of her perfect bottom from sight.

"As is custom—" Began an executioner's voice, hushing the procession. "—The victim's closest of relation may decide the fate of the aggressor. Step forward, Johan, brother of Jacob, the slain."

A boy took the stage, no more than thirteen years old. The vengeful brother of the 'brat' this criminal had so casually killed.

"Gimme the axe boy. Tell the man." Smiled the bandit lady with intimidating venom. "Or do you not have the guts? Gonna set me free?"

He stood silent. The crowd shifted uncomfortably. Just before the head executioner could step in, he spoke, giving the woman a fate vastly worse than death.

"Do whatever you want..." He mumbled. "I don't care."

Her confidence faltered. This was, deceptively, the most terrible fate the law could allow. The citizens would have their way with her like meat now. Bandits shared stories in hushed tones of this horror.

The boys rushed the stage first, as is always the case when a female offender is given to the people for justice. Ladies in the crowd rolled their eyes as the boys tore off her rags, quickly forming a line for the chance to fuck a fearsome female warrior from behind.

An yet, despite their lust, the young men pulled Johan forward to take the first turn.

"This bitch is the devil." Said a slightly older boy to Johan. "And she's pretty as heck. Getting the first turn with her... Man, this is poetic justice."

Her face was rage and growing fear as Johan felt the fPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

A story for Kamilla//aryion.com/g4/user/Kamilla with herself and Stella. Unfortunately the last special for this year!


Stella’s gift for Kamilla

I no longer try to make friends with Humans. It is always way to sad, to see them age… But I was so lonely in the last 80 years. Then I met Kamilla. While I have closed the way to another dimension, she fallen through accidentally. Unfortunately, I couldn’t send her home. Naturally, I could leave her alone, in this world completely alien to her. I wanted to help her to get around in my world. That was the plan ... But she fascinated me! She comes from a town called Paris. Her pink hair, were considered rather strange in her World, But I find it very beautiful. She is creative and open-hearted. She may be somewhat naive, but she is curious and very friendly. She manages to make me laugh. Before I knew, I could no longer separate myself from her. We didn’t just get closer to each other as friends. She also showed me some new things that I haven’t felt for a long time. In the end, I fell in love with her, although I would have to know better…

It is now almost 9 months since Kamilla stranded in my world. It’s a hard winter... In the cold season, I normally don’t like to travel. But I have a surprise for Kamilla! In their world, today they would celebrate a festival called Christmas. I haven’t understood everything, but apparently, you give your special ones, very special gifts. She thinks I don’t know. Well, her thoughts are easy to read! It seems that the idea of being in a cannibalistic situation aroused her. A strange fetish, but I can do it without problems! I never would hurt Kamilla, but I can offer her something that will fulfill her imagination.
"What we want in this cave? She asks me curious but also exhausted. Even with my magic, I couldn’t shorten the trip. We had walked for several hours… I hope it will work the way I planned it! Relieved I see that they still live here. The whole cave fills with small furry balls. The Cho Cho! These cute creatures I have visited many times on my journeys. Cho Cho’s have a ball-shaped body. They have short arms and legs but they are stronger as they look. They wear Red-brown, white or black fur, in all sorts of sweet patterns. They look at Kamilla with their button eyes. Cho Cho’s are friendly and harmless creatures, but they have a strange habit, which I would like to use for my present.
"Chi cha hie chae hae chi?" Ask the oldest.Post too long. Click here to view the full text.

First, sorry if I'm posting in the wrong place. I'm gonna try to post this in /lit/ and /req/ so if this goes away it's because I did a bad.

Looking for someone who can write me up a comic story board for me to send out for an art commission. Story wouldn't hurt either.

Please contact me at tctheladykiller@yahoo.com if you are willing and able. Thanks!