/lit/ - Literature

I admit, I'm probably a little fucked in the head.

Bioreplicator tech was definitely not ready for prime-time. It was certainly never intended to be used for full human duplication. And, I dare say, it was absolutely, positively not intended to be used for cheap autoerotic, sadomasochistic thrills.

And yet, here we are.

Well, okay. Here I am. And also there I am over there. And there's most of me over there, and about-to-be-me over there, and… well, yeah. I suppose it gets confusing.

But, point is, this is OG-me. You can tell by the carbon isotope mixture if you wanna take a blood sample. You could also tell by the lack of duplication errors, but that's less reliable, and I could be hiding something - what with the no arms or legs, and all. But yeah, sorry, all 100% zeroth-gen me.

First thing I did once I realized this would work was make like, fifty first-gen duplicates, sifted through the survivors with the nanoMRI for duplication glitches, picked the least error-riddled scans, and started printing them out. Then I realized that I should really average all those together and start printing *that* out, so i did.

Then we mulched all the nonviables, and all the marginals and I had the talk that I decided I was going to have with myself if I came out of the oven wrong, and the ones that didn't want to play helped me feed themselves back into the mulcher. Then we repeated the whole process another dozen or so times until I had enough of a scanset loaded that I could reliably print out as many of me as I wanted, and they'd all come out healthy.

Then I programmed the autodoc to amputate my limbs and feed them into the mulcher, leash me up in the kennel, and let me watch as it did horrible, horrible things to my dupes. And try to pleasure myself with my little nubs, but that just makes things even more frustratingly hot.
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A Gurochan premiere ;) I will be adding chapters of this through the evening then the final chapter before I go to bed :D

This story was inspired by an unfinished masterpiece by SadisticPleasures :D

Samantha's Big Chance
By
Edward Hyde

“You know, there is such a thing as over-rehearsing!” Samantha’s mum chuckled, walking into the living room to find her eleven year old daughter running through her two minute dance routine in her birthday suit. “I’m sure you’ve got it memorised by now!”

“I know!” Samantha smiled, a little embarrassed as the short assigned piece of music came to an end. “It’s just such a big deal and I want to be perfect!”

“You will.” Her mum put her arms around her and hugged her warmly. “You’re going to be brilliant, I just know it! Have you practised the group routine too?”

“Yeah,” the athletic young girl nodded, “it’s just harder to know how it’s going to be with the other girls.”
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"The economy is a joke, the corporations run everything in their ironclad grip, the monthly UBI can barely buy you a sandwich on a good day, so you can hardly blame the youth for choosing to drop out of society, sometimes permanently."

MissMelancholy (real name: unknown) turned back to the camera, a chipper smile on her face.

"Which is where we come in, to help give back to those poor struggling families, and to give these desperate, overwhelmed people a little peace of mind. Welcome back viewers to another stream where we give cash and get a death in return. It's the Snuff Stream!"

She pressed a key and the theme song jingled merrily. A quick glance at the second monitor, and her smile widened. This one was going to be a banger, with 80,000 viewers and climbing. "Our Snuff of the day is one Timothy Olsen, 18 year old high school student from Miscinaw, Michigan. On his social media he's talked about the usual sad, pitiful bullshit like the abusive drunk father, the bullying at school, the drug addiction, the self prostitution, the mother taken by an easily treatable illness if not for their lack of medical insurance."

MissMelancholy looked up at the camera, a sad look on her face. "Enough to break even my cold heart. This kid has had it rough, and we know he wants out. Well, he's gonna get it, because we've gone and picked him up, free of charge!" She switched the feed to the HD camera rig in the basement.

Timothy was sitting on the stool, nervously tapping his feet against the cold concrete floor when his phone buzzed, and he noticed a new message pop up.

"do it now"

He stood up and slowly took off his old sweater, making sure the cameras captured his youthful beauty. Timothy dropped the sweater to the floor, and bent over to pull his sweatpants down to his ankles. MissMelancholy could hear the high pitched pings in the stream chat as the donations came rolling in. She made sure to zoom the camera in on Timothy's tight little ass and smooth shaven cock and balls. Hell, even by her jaded standards he was a good looking kid.
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It was rare for us to get a job in the states for three reasons. Magical girls, despite appearing worldwide, mostly seemed to be concentrated in Japan. Being Japanese ourselves, this suited us just fine. The second reason was that very few employers were able to pay our very steep “getting military grade weaponry across international borders” fee. So imagine our surprise when an offer came in from a small town in New England from a company I’d never heard of. The last was that, over the years, the price for our services had grown steadily higher as magical girls had gotten stronger, more pragmatic, and most of all, stopped falling victim to the weaknesses that at first seemed inherent to their nature.

‘We’re heading where?” Aika asked, no doubt wondering how much school she’d have to miss on our little excursion. “Bishopsville.” Itami replied, stoic as ever. “Asylum hired us.” ‘Yeah, and they even hired their own plane. Looks like a piece of shit though” I said, looking out at the runway at the old plane they’d told us to use. “Looks reliable enough” H responded, having the sense not to be transformed quite yet; her BDSM getup would be glaringly obvious in an airport after all. The captain of the plane, an, old grizzled man, waved us aboard and, somewhat reluctantly, we did.

“Is this where we’re supposed to meet? I asked no one in particular as I surveyed the area. The place we were supposed to meet our client’s representative was a park near a high school. I supposed there were worse places to meet, with school in session, it was as far as I could see, almost vacant. “Indeed, it is.” A polite female voice said, waving to us in casual clothing from a nearby bench. “Come, sit.” We did so, not seeing any reason why not to.

“There are two magical girls I need dealt with.” She said, looking straight ahead, not caring to introduce herself. Many clients did the same, obviously not wanting the assassination of children to be traced back to then. “Tell us about them.” I said in return. “You see, the thing is, this isn’t about the asylum.” The girl said, staring straight ahead. “Yes that is important, but the main reason I want them dead is because they killed my older sister.” As for abilities, they fight tactically, and tend to exploit their opponent’s weak points, but your normal ambush strategy should work well against them. “So they’re who we need to kill?” Aika asks, by now transformed into Pretty Deadly. “No.” The girl said simply.Post too long. Click here to view the full text.

-03:00-
Garajımda robotum üzerinde çalışıyordum,karım onla uğraşmamı getirmemi pek sevmezdi fakat bu şey tamamlandığında baya müthiş olacaktı,sanki ilk aşkımmış bu metal yığını,ara sıra onunla konuşurdum o doğal olarak hiç cevap vermezdi,yakında bu değişecekti,robotu yapmanın en zorlu yanı yarı biyonik yarı elektronik olduğu için bazı elektronik parçaları ve organları satın almak oldukça zaman aldı,bir yıl uğraşımın ödülünü yarın alacaktım,sonunda çalışacaktı.Üstünü beyaz bir bezle örtüp yatmaya gittim aslında yatmak istemiyordum,sadece karımın avazı çıktığı kadar bağırmasından hoşlanmıyordum.

-12:00-
Gözlerimi açtım yatakta karım yoktu,hiç böyle erken kalmazdı.Genellikle haftasonları akşama kadar uyurdu,burnuma omlet kokusu geldi,yataktan kalkıp mutfağa girdim,karım kahvaltıyı hazırlıyordu,ona günaydın diyip garaja girdim,fakat robotum burda yoktu sadece üzerine örtüğüm beyaz örtü katlanmış şekilde masanın üzerindeydi.Ayrıca örtünün üzerinde bir not vardı;

"çabaların için teşekkürler sevgilim "
Arkamdan birisi şöyle seslendi
"Sanırsam beni arıyorsun"
Arkamı döndüm ve karımı gördüm

"Hayır seni aramıyorum"
"Peki kimi"
"Robotu"
"Tam karşında duruyor"
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(Extreme Genital Mutilation

Hey everyone! I'm a girl who has lurked on Gurochan for years without ever posting anything. Recently, I've been re-learning Python programming, & I want to put it to use making a text-based adventure game about snuff & gore.

I am a little lacking in inspiration though, so I figured I'd get some input from my fellow degenerates. So far, my pitch is this:

Every year a totally-not-a-hunger-games-rippoff-style battle royal happens, where a bunch of random people get dropped on an island covered in weapons & only 1 leaves alive. This year is special, because all the winners of the previous years have been dropped on the island this time, for an all-stars round of the game. Unfortunately, for some reason, the main character, a schoolgirl with absolutely no combat experience, is also thrown into the mix! Will she snuff all her competitors? Or will they manage to do it first?

The two main things I would like ideas for are the geography of the island/important locations on it, & the various other competitors. I want as much variety in both as possible. Any input is appreciated.

–Ms. Alex Payne

Just a little something I started this morning in readiness for the new rules! I've not abandoned the others, just had this beginning in my head so wanted to get it down. Enjoy!

Pt 1

After her shower in the hotel bathroom, twenty year old Elizabeth looked at her naked body in the mirror, her flame-red hair hanging in long, wet rat-tails around her shoulders. She cupped her large, round breasts and looked at them thoughtfully. She knew that is was these that had gained her popularity at college as well as earning her the nickname Jessica after Jessica Rabbit. She was also under no illusion that they had helped to land her this job in the first place but now they were going to be responsible for her death. Well, she admitted to herself, not just her breasts. She turned her back towards the mirror and looked over her shoulder, admiring her nice juicy rump which was sure to be a major attraction at the feast if the negotiations went well.

Elizabeth was a junior researcher at a production company specialising in anthropological documentaries and the presenter she worked most closely with was hoping to pull off the scoop of the century! The cannibal tribes of the Dolcett Islands had been known about for some time but no film crews had ever been permitted to visit. Months of patient negotiation and exchange of gifts had resulted in her boss gaining the permission of the islanders to visit and film them for three days but the broadcasters who would carry the film were concerned that showing the native women cooked would be deemed exploitative. An agreement had been reached that, for balance, an English woman would be shown cooked and eaten by the islanders alongside any natives who may be shown. That is where Elizabeth came in. She remembered the mix of shock and excitement she had felt when she had been called into her boss’s office and told the vitally important role she was being asked to play. She had taken the afternoon to think about it but, before going home from work that day, she had returned to her boss’s office and agreed. After all, this was an opportunity to be part of history!

She could not deny that she had been fascinated by the idea of cannibalism since she was a small girl. There was, she knew, a girl in America campaigning for the practice to be legalised but she didn’t reckon on that getting very far any time soon and she was sure that, if it ever were to become legal, she would be far too old by then for anPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

Hey everyone, I am planning on writing a new story involving April O’Neil. Shredder is gonna get some action.

WARNING: This is a Khan story prepare for one submissive girl who spoils her pants. I showed pictures of the girl in this one


My child hood friend named Shelia was a dark haired girl a little on the chubby side but cute. She only wore long skirts to hide her modesty but her ass was big. She would come to my house with our parents permission any time she wanted so much so that since she didn't have a washer at her house she washed her clothes at ours.

Her panties were always left in the basket and I would smell them. I was a pervert who loved scat and unwashed girls so I would spend hours smelling them.

One day she caught me red handed and screamed and ran across the street. Now of course I'd expect her to tell my and hers parents and I would never get to see her underwear again.

Amazingly I found a set of her underwear in front of my door the next morning. And this time I hit the jackpot I saw a long brown streak that smelled like shit clinging onto the panties I took a long sniff and than masturbated cumming on them. I left them in my room on my dresser and hopped my mom wouldn't find them.I had a dream of watching this big girl shit her self for me and I dreamed I got to fuck Sheila.

The next morning I woke up and the panties were gone. I grew scared that my parents had found them. But if they had wouldn't they be banging on my door demanding explanations. That means Sheila was the only one who could have gotten them.

I decided that I needed those panties and would steal them back from her. So I waited until night time and opened her front door with the key her parents left me when they went on vacation. I snuck into her room.

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