/lit/ - Literature

Dying Children and Teens

This thread will contain stories involving the deaths of females under the age of eighteen.

Though my primary focus is on underage females, some stories will have make and/or adult victims as well.

The thread "Children Murdered" will be replaced with this one. Unlike the Children Murdered, some stories will also feature suicides, executions, combat, casual, and other kinds of deaths.

Vaginal Royale
(Extreme genital mutilation, extreme gory violence, extreme snuff, teens)

Disclaimer:
All works are completely fictional.
All names were created via random generators, and any likeliness to actual people is a complete coincidence.
Be kind to women, they're our mothers, wives, sisters and daughters.
With that said, this is fantasy – lets go destroy some cunts.

The screams echoed through the stone halls underneath the arena. The cries of women tortured to their breaking point. Whipping them, cutting them, burning them, hurting them. Six women screamed out in agonizing pain for over a week before being brought forth to a small brick room, steel bars stopping them from exiting. They were thrown in, naked, to shiver and cry on the stone.

A large man came into the room, his dark skin rippled with muscles and sweat. His bald head reflected the small light of the fire in the room's hearth and he stared down at the five weeping women.

“How far you have fallen.” he spat with a smile. The six women's whimpers and cries slowly receded as they clenched their fists, and held their bodies to look up at him with pure hatred. He frowned down at them, all six of them were starting to gain back the fire of who they were.

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I started a new thread so I could tag it. Original thread is here: https://www.gurochan.cx/lit/res/15167.html#15186

I'm using the name KittyBoy because of the suggestion that I call these folks "pets". I've written out the first chapter- not a lot happens, it's mostly set-up.

Notes: I got the name "Cupcake" off a cat name generator.

Chapter 1

Cupcake was excited. He sat on his master's lap, playing with the fabric of his shirt, trying to force himself to keep his attention on the screen in front of him. He was supposed to be helping- perhaps more than helping, perhaps actually working this out himself. And he wanted to- had every intention of actually doing it- but he had already looked over all the information, and he found the review boring.

They were all cute enough, but none of them really stood out- they couldn't be expected to, really. Cupcake had experience and a bond that had taken years to form, an identity that he had carved out for himself. It was ridiculous to expect someone so young and, in his opinion, stupid, to step in and fill the niche he had created. He didn't envy them.

His mind kept wandering to his eventual death; the thing that actually generated excitement. His master had asked him what he wanted, but he wasn't sure... All he knew was that he wanted to be immortalized, to be preserved. He wanted some part of him to stay here, in this house, so that whatever new pet his master got would know that he had been here before, that he was irreplacable, that he was the first.

He was leaning toward taxidermy, but if he did that, he wanted to be in perfect shape for it. He wanted to look so good that it would be impossible to live up to. He thought that he was already close- he had had years of tight waisting that molded him into a shape that was so nearly perfect he had come to rely on the corset for support. He couldn't even stand or support himself without it, but he never took it off because why in the world would anyone do that? The results were more than worth the negligeable trade-off.

He felt a sudden tightening around the head of his cock, where it was held prone by the cage, and arched his back, instinctively thrusting out his chest. He grabbed at the back of his chair and spread his legs to give his master better access.

"You're not payingPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

Hi all, so I am planning on writing a story that will involve female users on this site as characters. I could simply ask them for permission but that's a lot less fun and ruins the surprise. I would like to know if writing tribute stories to other users is in keeping with the culture here, since I am new to this place. If that is not something people appreciate on this forum then I will be sure to ask the relevant people for permission to involve them. But if it is something people enjoy, then I would rather make a surprise contribution.

Part One: Tara

King Harold took a sip from his goblet of Zinfandel and grimaced as he perused the medical reports. Out of the 5 women in his harem that had managed to get pregnant, all of them had borne him girls. Not a single son, he thought to himself. Outrageous!

He looked out the window, at the slowly swinging corpses of the 5 concubines hanging from the old oak in the castle square. Their graceful forms swollen with babies that would never be born, they had accepted their nooses with resigned dignity. Of course he had forced the other 15 concubines to watch, an example of what would happen to those who failed him in that most vital task of creating a male successor. One that would carry the kingdom onwards to future glory.

The king tossed the medical reports into the trash bin beside his desk, and keyed the intercom system. He cleared his throat.

"Could all members of my harem report to my office? I have an announcement to make".

Not more than 3 minutes later, all of his remaining concubines were standing rigidly before him, trying their best to avoid eye contact. King Harold stood up and walked around them, admiring their fresh young bodies. Beauties from every corner of his kingdom, duty bound to satisfy his every whim. Diverse in every sense of the word, there were short girls, tall girls, buxom girls, slender girls, girls with short hair, girls with long hair, girls with curly locks, tanned girls, pale girls the color of skim milk, chocolate brown girls, devout girls and girls that were sluts.

He locked eyes with a curvy, fair blonde. She was brand new, had arrived a week before.

"You, what's your name?"
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The night sky glowed orange and red, the smoke and embers from the raging fires casting a hellish light. What had taken a thousand years to build had only taken 3 hours to burn to the ground, converted into twisted metal and charred ash. Soldiers from the Republican forces drank beer from looted bars, whooping and hollering as they let loose, the weight of 5 years of constant fighting melting away.

Corporal Falsenn chewed on his unlit cigarette, engrossed in the view. He turned and looked at his young charge, the former Princess of the deposed Imperial Family. The Princess had been stripped of clothing and her hands tied behind her back tightly. She stared at the ruins of her ancestral home, her eyes wet with tears. The Corporal felt a twinge of pity. His own daughter was around the Princess's age, and he felt a shiver of discomfort pass through him as he thought of what was to come next.

"How are you holding up, miss?", the Corporal asked gently.

The Princess turned and looked up at him, her doe-like eyes tinged with red, snot running down her nose. She had been quietly crying all night long, and Falsenn couldn't blame her. Everything she had ever known had been taken and destroyed, and even if what she had known was exploitative, he couldn't blame an innocent teenage girl for it.

"Fine", she whispered, her soft voice ragged with fear.

The Corporal nodded awkwardly, reached for his belt and unhooked his canteen. He twisted the cap off and offered it to the Princess. Demurely, she opened her mouth and accepted the swig of water.

After the Princess drank her fill, the grizzled soldier placed the canteen back on his belt. For a moment, the pair both stared at the apocalyptic backdrop of the burning city, silent in contemplation.
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A Looter's Experiment
-MK

Levy militia were chickenshit scum half the time. Roderick knew this by being one conscripted peasant himself. Whenever he and the rest of the unlucky schmucks were in the field, he made sure to stick to the sides and a little bit to the rear. Staying at the rear was an amateur mistake; the ones at the very back were always pushed aside and trampled on once the rout started. That’s not to mention the fact that the commanding nobleman - whoever it was at the time - often picked out the ones at the rear and made examples of them.

Said nobleman - Roderick really couldn’t remember his name - was currently showing the world his guts by the city gates. To nobody’s surprise, the levy under his command had scattered in the wind, away from the city where the fighting was fierce. Most of them except for Roderick, that was. He was wily enough to understand that opportunities were to be had that outweighed the risk of death. He wasn’t that much of a coward.

Life was rough as a peasant, Roderick knew. Nothing but the constant drudgery of the fields, grazing of livestock and the fear of starvation if whatever lord that was currently ruling over his village had decided that feasting in the winter was the best way to ration the food stores.

The sacking of this city might just provide him enough money to live comfortably by himself.

And here Roderick was, scouring through the corpses in an empty street by the poor residences with a large burlap sack he had hidden beneath his tunic and passed off as ‘extra padding’. His gaze skipped over finely forged swords and plate and honed in instead on coin pouches, jewelry, and the daggers he found on noble warriors that were sure to fetch more than a few shiny silvers with the right buyers.

The sound of shouting men gave Roderick pause and he darted into a nearby house just as the first armored foot rounded the corner. No matter which side it was, he’d probably get run down once they recognized him as a looter, Roderick thought bitterly to himself as he watched the knights’ shadows dance beneath the crack at the bottom of the door. He gripped the haft of his short spear tight, the other hand holding the lip of the sack.

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Hi all, I know this is a niche of a niche but I am looking for recommendations on stories featuring casual snuff of young girls, that do not feature cannibalism or dolcett. Ideally, there should be a "free-use" kind of air to the story with the girl not exactly wanting to be snuffed but going along with it anyway; though willingly participating would be fine too.

Examples of what I'm looking for are:
- Freedom to Snuff by SexistAliien (https://www.gurochan.cx/lit/res/2522.html) (specifically the first entry in the story)
- School Festival by AbbotTar (https://www.gurochan.cx/lit/res/8041.html)

Pt 1

There was an excited hush in the room as the first competitors stepped up to take their turn. The Annual Independent Gymnastic Clubs Fundraiser, open to all the clubs in the region, was always a very popular event and this year was no exception. The tickets were pretty pricey for such an event but, as usual, every seat was filled and not just with family members of those participating. In fact, more than half the tickets had been sold to people with no connection to the event what so ever who were simply keen to be there. The AIGCH event, you see, was pretty famous and very special.

The event was structured much like any other – there were a number of events testing various aspects of gymnastic ability and artistry, divided into age groups and judged by a panel of respected veterans and coaches. The age categories were six to nine, ten to thirteen and thirteen to sixteen. Each participating group could compete in as many of the categories as they chose, entering one contestant in each age-group. All the money raised would go to support the local groups with the winner in each category earning more for their particular club but every club benefiting in some way.

What made the AIGCH stand out, however, against other events of its kind and what made it attract the spectators that it did was the prize that the winner in each category would receive. In addition to the money for their club and their picture on their club’s wall of fame, a kind of immortality in a sense, the girl who came first in each event would, during the presentation ceremony after all the events had been run, be beheaded and her body cooked and served to the guests – the price of admission also included a meal and that is what most of the public came for!

While they competed, of course, the girls all wore standard gymnastic leotards bearing the colours and insignia of their team but for the award ceremony, they would all change into different coloured togas with nothing underneath, each team wearing matching colours, in an attempt to emulate the great sporting events of ancient Greece. The winners would be crowned with laurel wreaths and mount a podium then, at a signal given by the master of ceremonies, they would pull on the knot that held their togas at the shoulder, revealing their nude, athletic bodies.

This was, of course, always a popular time for visitors to take photographs even if they had not bothered during the contest itself! Post too long. Click here to view the full text.

After repairing all links to gurochan stories I don't found this masterpiece. So for greater justice I ressurect it^^
I hope author of this great story is doing fine.

[Lord of Pancakes] Ol' McJohnny had a Farm [2016]
(loli, straight shota, beheading)

12 year old Jenny was on her way to Johnny's family farm to play with his 9 year old sister Cindy. Cindy and Jenny had been friends for many years and it was Jenny's idea for Cindy to lose her virginity to Johnny a year ago. Since then, there playdates always involved Johnny and sex, so Jenny was excited as always. Her little pussy started to tingle at the thought of another 3 way with Johnny and Cindy, Jenny started running down the road.

Jenny finally made it to Johnny's house, as she was walking up the path she saw a note on the door. Jenny grabbed it and read it:
“Jenny,
Johnny and I are out back in the barn playing Farmer! I just learned about farms and animals in school. I came up with a great game for us to play!
Cindy”

Jenny laughed and rolled her eyes. Little Cindy was always coming up with new “games” for them to play. Over the past year they had gotten progressively more sexy and dangerous. Not that Jenny minded. So she pocketed the note and began her walk to the barn. When she got inside she looked around and couldn't see Johnny or Cindy. She did see their clothes in a big pile. Jenny laughed and began to quickly undress. She was going to call out for them, when she heard Cindy.

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