Downtime

The young soldier grips her rifle, heart pounding in terror. The cries and moans of the wounded and dying are drowned out by the thunder and crack of gunfire and artillery. The CO walks along the trench, shouting. The girl doesn't hear the exact words, but knows that it will lead to her death. She hears a sudden silence, a break in the fighting.

Then the whistle pierces the air, commanding her to leave the safety of her trench, to expose her young body to the enemy. Despite her immense fear, she feels her body reacting on autopilot, pulling herself up top then breaking into a sprint alongside her brothers and sisters. The enemy opens fire, cutting them down. The girl winces at the crack-crack-crack of supersonic rifle rounds flinging past her, but her run never ceases. She yells, a battle cry for her country.

Something rocks the world, turning it upside down. The girl is left weightless and the ground leaves her. She glimpses (in brief flashes) the yellow-red ground, the bright blue sky, and a blossoming flower of dust and fire. Then gravity catches up to her, bringing her down. She sees the ground rushing up to meet her and then nothing.

The young man (boy really, having reached his 18th year last week), advances cautiously through the pockmarked landscape of no man's land. Fellow soldiers walk alongside, rifles at low ready, bayonets attached. Bodies lay scattered amongst the craters and debris, twisted and torn. Most are months old, nothing more than skeletons with tattered pieces of leathery flesh, picked apart by the packs of wild dogs and swarms of rats grown fat off of the slaughter.

His commanding officer signals the platoon to halt for a break, and the soldiers sigh and begin to sit down. What was once waist deep mud in the spring had turned to dry soil and dust in the summer. The boy sat down, and places his rifle beside him. He feels his hand brush against something soft. He looks, and gasps in shock.
The face of a young girl about his age stares back, blue eyes half lidded, lips parted slightly. The boy recoils back. His gaze wanders down the rest of the body. The uniform was of the enemy, although this one seemed a size too small for the girl, hugging her curvy form tightly.

The boy, having gotten over his initial shock, crawls back. He looks over his shoulder, and sees the rest of his platoon scattered amongst the craters, napping or playing cards. He grPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

Joanna giggled as we walked through my front door. My parents had left an hour ago for the night on a trip, and I had pounced on the opportunity. Joanna had agreed to my proposal immediately, and got a ride over under the pretense of a school project. I smiled devilishly at her as I pulled her into my room and closed the door.

She kissed me, wrapping her arms around my neck and I ran my hands down my back to her ass. I gave her ass a squeeze as I kissed her, then pushed her onto the bed. She looked up at me, her face flushed, and I marvelled at her beauty. She had soft brown hair, firm perky tits and a beautiful ass. I pulled her shirt off and undid her bra. She pulled me onto her and I kissed her, fondling her breasts.

She got up and crawled towards me, pulling down my pants to reveal my hard cock. She twirled her tongue around the tip, then put it in her mouth. She blew me hard, taking only occasional breaks for air. She looked into my eyes as she sucked my dick, making me even more aroused. I moaned softly as I felt the cum welling up inside me and I grabbed her head, pulling her onto my dick. She didn't even flinch as I came into her throat, closing her eyes and swallowing. I let go, and she looked up at me. "Your cum tastes so good, daddy," she said, and I pushed her over, pulling off her sweatpants. Her panties were already wet, and I rubbed her clit through them, then pulled them down around her ankles and fingered her. She rubbed her clit while I stroked her g-spot, and her pussy started making wet noises as she moaned. After a while, I felt her pussy clench, and she squirted on my hand, soaking the sheets in her cum.

She moaned loudly, then relaxed. I pulled my fingers out of her pussy and they dripped her juices on the bed. I stood up beside the bed and she followed suit, dripping cum onto the floor. I bent her over the bed and slowly plunged my dick into her wet pussy. "Yes daddy," she moaned, 'Fuck my horny pussy." She pushed back into me as I started thrusting into her. She moaned as I pounded her from behind, and I grabbed her hair and fucked her harder. She was twitching on my dick. "Choke me daddy," she moaned, and I grabbed her throat with both hands and squeezed. Her pussy started sloshing as she got wetter and wetter.

She was turning blue from lack of oxygen, and I was about to cum. I fucked her faster and faster and squeezed harder and harder until I shot cum into her pussy. She shuddered Post too long. Click here to view the full text.

I wrote a gore story, thought people here would like it. https://archiveofourown.org/works/18389672

(As usual, commissions open, email me at whydoihavethiskink at yahoo dot com, yada yada yada :D )

I've been trying to find an old story that I hope wasn't lost. In it, a woman ended up on an alien world where she accidently runs into something like a small xenomorph. She ends up pissong herself and the alien finds her. It then slowly ends up ripping out her entire pussy, womb, and ovaries and eating them before letting her go. The story ends with her being content with what happenes to her.

Does anyone remember this story?

I've been trying to find an old story that I hope wasn't lost. In it, a woman ended up on an alien world where she accidently runs into something like a small xenomorph. She ends up pissong herself and the alien finds her. It then slowly ends up ripping out her entire pussy, womb, and ovaries and eating them before letting her go. The story ends with her being content with what happenes to her.

Does anyone remember this story?

The Dear
RuneSmith
December 1998
It had been a long time since I last ate human meat. My friend, Joe, would hunt and kill kids and then eat them. But he didn't like eating them alone, and so he'd invite me over for dinner, with someone else on the menu. It really didn't matter that I was eating children. What I didn't like was killing them, so I left that up to Joe.
When the authorities finally caught up with Joe the kid eater, they broke into his farmhouse and found Joe skinning an eight-year-old female. She'd been swiped from a local play park. .
Police found the girl's head sitting in a bowl, her sweet brown eyes staring at nothing. Her organs had been put into a small tub, wrapped up in several layers of plastic bags. Her heart and liver were already fixed and chopped and found frozen in the freezer.
He probably would have gotten away with her murder, but someone had seen him snatch the little girl from the street and whisk her away. He was put away with no parole and finally done in with the electric chair. I followed the trial. He never said he was sorry. He never regretted his actions, even admitting that she was maybe, as far as he could remember, the fiftieth child he had eaten.
Over a period of ten years I had helped him eat most of those fifty children. They were good, boys and girls. Some were white, black, Asian, and some were Mexicans. All were sweetly delicious. Each time I sat down to eat with him, he would tell me the haunting details of their capture, gleefully retelling how frightened the little animals were as if they were running from a giant lion. He was a good cannibal right to the last.
Now this is my story. I wasn't hunting any children, but I shot one anyway. My ranch is forty acres and I was out back with my hunting rifle boning up on target practice, getting ready for deer season. But it wasn't deer season. Not yet. But I thought I saw a deer. Yes, I would be poaching on my own land, but gee whiz the thought of fresh venison ran through my mind. I would have fresh meat tonight.
I saw the animal scampering through the woods. I took aim and shot it and it fell from sight. I ran over to the deer and stopped, shock registering on my face. Looking down on the ground lay not a deer or your usual other meat animal. It wasn't even a dog, or a bad dream. There before me lay the crumpled body of a young girl. She was dead and bleeding. I had shot her right in the head and the bullet exited the opPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

Snuff Olympics – Spears for all the ladies

“LAAADIES AND GENTLEMEN! A round of applause for our next athlete – hailing from Russia and standing tall at 2.1 meters – Ivan, professional cunt killer and snuffmeister at our emperor’s pleasure palace! His dedication for keeping the women population under control is well known throughout the empire, with over one thousand women snuffed. Just the sight of him makes most cunts wet themselves, both in fear and anticipation. “ the commentator yelled at the mic, introducing the mountain that was Ivan.

The arena had over one hundred thousand spectators, most of which were male, over 60% of the region’s male population. The snuff Olympics happened once a year and was a real show of male aptitude, with diverse challenges centered around culling excess women. Of course, for such occasions and shows, only the most beautiful and attractive were chosen, so the impact of their demise would be felt even by the most ruthless of men out there.

“Behold – the targets!” the commentator yelled, as a trapdoor in the arena floor opened and a platform with six gorgeous young women aligned in front of each other. Each has her hands and feet tied to two poles, keeping their bodies suspended in an X. They’re all about the same height and aligned so that their heads are at about the same height.

“You’ve seen them on magazine covers, fashion shows and maybe even in some movies – they’re among the most beautiful the empire has to offer! From front to back, we have Brittany, Alexis, Lindsey, Caprice, Kiara and Ivan’s personal sex toy – Natasha. We’ll see if he has the strength and precision to kill them all with one spear! Let’s see what spear he’ll chose while the girls are getting their last orgasms!” the commentator's voice filled the arena as the naked girls had their vibrator cunt plugs started.
Their moans are captured by tiny microphones embedded in the poles and broadcast across the stadium to create blood thirst among the male participants. Their short screams will also be heard by every spectator, while a multitude of ultra-high definition high speed camera broadcast their last moments across humongous screens nationwide.

“Will he take away their beautiful faces with the thrust of a spear or will he break their hearts? Let’s find out!”

Ivan stood five meters away from the first cunt, Brittany and about ten meters from the last one, his favorPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

PLEASE NOTE:
This short story is three interweaving stories from different time periods. When I was originally writing this story I used italics and bolding to separate visually the stories. Cuz I can't do it on here I've just put a 1, a 2, and a 3 in front of each section. The number correlates with when chronologically the portion happens.


The prince was by no means charming. Centuries of inbreeding led to mangled teeth, a distorted face, and abnormally large genitals. He had no authority to even be preparing to lead such a proud country, and yet an immense inheritance meant it only fitting that when poor little Rebecca was asked to be his wife, her father sold her over without second thought.
Rebecca was a sweet girl. Petite, naive, pretty. Silky brown hair that she often kept in two thin pigtails, much to her caretakers’ chagrin. Pale skin and rosy cheeks meant she was the prince’s number one choice in women, and her stout but fitting form– a large ass and flat breasts that betrayed youngness– only excited him more.
She was grown now, somewhat. No longer the 18 year old little girl who was dragged away from a life she never knew to hate. Two years had passed– and the hateful prince was growing more and more impatient. He needed an heir as soon as possible, and he’d be the first in his family not to fuck a sister to get it.
Well, they were cousins, but it wasn’t quite so bad.

1
Rebecca was scared, shaking in her little room. Despite the country’s funds and the lavishness of the castle, the new princess was only rewarded a small room, some mere steps away from the castle dungeon. The prisoners were loud and frightening, and despite all common sense, Rebecca often feared the castle guards would let an inmate out simply to have his way with her.
Now, as she shuddered and wept on her small cot, missing home and a life she once loved, her dear caretaker stroked her luscious hair. She, so far, appeared to be the only person in the castle who had any care for the poor girl. She, too, was young and pretty. Small with long blonde hair, she was only a teenager like the princess, just a year older. Her name was Samantha, and on this fearful night, she sang gentle poetry until the young girl fell slowly to sleep.

3
She had failed to produce an heir. The poor child, only a princess for three years, had already let down her prince and her kingdom. Not that she cared too much,Post too long. Click here to view the full text.

The day she was cut in half

The warehouse was pretty dark. None of the lights were on, only the dusty, cobwebbed skylights let in the reflected shine of the city, from low hanging, looming clouds. Like a dirty yellow blanket.

It was enough light for a young woman to tiptoe her way through the aisles, between racks and stacks of palettes, almost up to the ceiling.

She was alone. There would have been no need to tiptoe, but any sound echoed eerily in the large building and the reason she was here in the first place, at night and without light, brought with it a certain amount of healthy paranoia.

The warehouse was used as a drop-off point for various smuggled goods. And if the police were to catch her with the stash she was about to retrieve, she'd face a very unpleasant interrogation, while corrupt officers were trying shady methods to find out who had sent her, who she'd bring it to, and other questions that, if she answered truthfully would shorten her life considerably. If she didn't she'd rot in jail.

None of that would matter on this fateful day. There were no police, and she would in fact never have to worry about hitmen nor jail, but she didn't know that yet. She counted the aisles, then went down one of them counting racks.

She stopped in front of a large stack of rusty metal cages, each of which held plastic barrels with symbols and letters on them. It was not the stack in front of which she should have stopped. The goods she had come for waited savely on a shelf, one aisle further down. But that, too she didn't know.

The cages were mostly open. They were stackable, if you had a forklift, and seemingly gave enough room for footrest to climb on them. She started climbing.

She was three cages up, when the stack of cages when fate tried one final time to warn her. A shrieking metal creak sounded from below, as the imbalanced and overloaded metal protested, weakened already by age and rust.

She stopped, panting. Her legs felt a bit wobbly, and she felt her breasts brush against her shirt with every labored breath. Her fingers tingled, cramped to give her hold on the rusty metal. And for some reason she felt horny. Her pussy had been urging for a while. Her labia were slightly swollen and pressed into her panties, already soaked. The thrill of the illegal often made her a little bit aroused, but climbing this stack pulled her jeans tight against her nPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

Little bit I wrote for a gifted art piece.

Furry(see image), Sex, Torture, Skinning, Gutting, Dismemberment, snuff, pred/prey… get your bingo cards ready!

I've done /short/ stories for pieces in the past, but this was the first true short story I've done for a piece. Depending on feed back I might do more.

Enjoy!

Chatin slipped her dress on getting ready for her date tonight, and tonight being Valentine’s Day. She had met a feline several months back and what had started out as a simple friendship had evolved into that much more. Although they were both a predator and a female it mattered little to her, and had long since ignored warnings from others on their relationship. What fears she had long since disappeared once their relationship became intimate.

For the night she had opted for a dress that was fancier than her normal attire, being lined with lace around the edges and across the shoulders. The dress covered her torso entirely down to her thighs, but left her back completely exposed down to her tail. With the fabric hugging her form it left enough visible to be attractive while hiding enough to make one wonder. She had worn nothing passed the dress assuming in advance that it wouldn’t be staying on her for too long anyway.

En lieu of a restaurant for the evening Aisha had opted that she come to their house for dinner, as she apparently had something special in mind. However, dinner wasn’t at the front of her thoughts currently, and it made her twitch thinking about the feline. Every time they had grown intimate, she was always left hanging and forced to solve the problem later. She was hoping tonight would be different after finally being invited to the cat’s home and on Valentine’s to boot.

She arrived at Aisha’s home in short order with her house not being too far away, though she had no idea of this fact until recently. Her claws clacked against the pathway as she walked to the door before rasping against it with her hand. Chatin was quickly met with the smiling feline wearing a red corset and matching skirt that blended well with their mostly pink fur. Aisha ushered her in with a kiss against her cheek before waving her off to sit down. “Have a seat dinner will be ready soon.” She said before disappearing from view.
Post too long. Click here to view the full text.