Hey, you all might recognise me as the writter for Waifu Wars. Well I'm gonna have to go on a short hiatus for the rest of November due to a personal project not related to the site. But I decided hey this would be the perfect time to start another seriues idea I had. It's kinda like the DBX to Waifu Wars. Instead of a long drawn out fight some sexy fictional ladies just get killed. Feel free to suggest victims!

“C’mon, you little slut!” Thessali blurted out angrily as she and her friend dragged the little five foot elf that had been tainted by the void along. A length of nylon rope hung slung over her shoulders. “Let’s go for a walk in the woods, ok bitch?” she snorted in a huff.

Galilada whimpered anxiously, a cloth bandana covering her mouth plus her own pair of panties preventing coherent speech. Her wrists were bound behind her back, preventing her from putting up much of a struggle. Her coal black hair waved at her shoulders as she was dragged along in her white blouse and mageweave skirt, her knee-high black boots leaving little drag marks along the trail. The wooden cart she had been held hostage in during the ride out sure seemed like a lot better proposition than the one she was now facing!

“Are you sure about this, Danellia?” Thessali’s partner in crime Iliaravi asked as she warily looked all around. Three miles up an old service route towards the Dawnstar spire in the ghostlands and then another mile and a half walk had not been a part of her plans for an enjoyable friday evening. Besides, wasn’t this the place where that recent rangers had gone missing with a larger than normal troll activity.

“This is PERFECT!” the raven haired elf blurted out.

“But what about the forest trolls?”

“Don’t you get it, Iliaravi?” Thessali chuckled evilly. “They will get the blame for what we’re going to do to this little piece of shit!” Then she grabbed Galilada’s chin and gave it a good shake, laughing as she added, “Ain’t that right, sweetie?”

Galilada cried out again as she tried to resist them. But Thessali was 5’ 6”; Iliaravi at least a couple inches taller. They outweighed her and she was in no position to make an escape.

“This place gives me the creeps!, I know stories of ghosts out here at well” Iliaravi declared, nervously looking around as they continued to drag their helpless captive along.

“Would you knock it off?” Thessali responded in exasperation. “Besides, we didn’t run across a single living or dead thing coming out here! There’s nobody around for miles but the three of us!” Then she gave out a nasty cackle as she hefted the rope slung over her shoulder while giving Galilada’s chin another shake.

“But soon there’ll only be the two of us; right, you cock-sucking slut?? I’ll teach you to go sucking my husband’s cock!”

Galilada tried to protest throPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

Tell me your thoughts, it'll definitely effect weather I make more.
===

White clouds, the ever blue sky, the rainbow patterns of bright sunlight piercing gemstone walls. In this ascended place not one soul follies into accidental sin and so much the same, none go without rest, food, and jubilee. Their ages reach upwards of the billions but not a human face goes beyond 25. Glass armor and gold swords like children prepped for play, every human knows this place so well.

Heaven.

On cherished wings, in hallowed halls, in the shadow of every pillar and at the peak of every night, there in every bit of darkness sleeps a single untouched vermin. Gathering strength, crawling up the opalescent pillars and sinking into every stagnant crystal blue puddle in the street, there is a disease. Making it's way ever faster towards the heart of the highest city.

The rot...

"Please! Help me!"

Candy like blue hair and matching sapphire eyes glare sadly at two demons half her size but carrying many times her weight in muscle. One holds a club, the other a knife, kobolds by the looks of them. Leathery red skin and thick, snaking tails.

"Please! If you come near me, god will--"

"God will what?!"

They were surrounded by pests, small slinking creatures with sharp teeth. Dark red with bright neon green polka dots. Leeches. They bit into the walls and pillars of the dark, hidden alley. Everywhere they bit was covered in glimmering, opalescent gem stone... And every time they bit, the stone calcified and rusted and turned dull, and then shriveled up slowly into a hardened, organic shape, so that the walls where the leeches had been which were once flat stone walls were transformed into rocky masses of random interconnected organs. In some places on these disturbing forms, more leeches could be seen spawning.

The angel didn't care about this, and was more focused on the two kobolds infront of her. She held a small silver knife, and the tiny cuirass that covered only her upper chest did nothing for her mid section which was covered only by a flowing blue sundress. She was too afraid to cry just yet, and she looked back and forth between the two lizards with her sword held out towards them, switching targets over and over with a little huff of breath each time she changed her mind.

It made sense, her indecisiveness, angels weren't used to fighting. And her fear mPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

Nobles and Clones

A World of Decadence and Snuff

(snuff, casual, young, more to come)

The story will be written from the perspective of both Clones and Nobles. I don’t do scat or brainplay or babies, but feedback is GREATLY appreciated and I can probably work most requests into future chapters. I write when I get the time and when the muse strikes, but I plan to keep it going for a while. I have no interest in men, straight sex, or male victims, so if I include a male character, they will be in passing, or a platonic friend in almost all cases. The first entry will establish the world and goes into a lot more exposition. Future posts won’t be quite as long.

If being the Noble girl is an idea that appeals to you, PLEASE ask for my yahoo/skype. I really love the thought of playing the Clone. The first victim is very much modeled on myself. <3

---

Premise

It was the year 3000. Mankind had brought itself to the edge of extinction some centuries earlier, by way of nuclear war. In the wake of the devastation, most of the surviving population was left unable to produce offspring, with only a few hundred bloodlines left able to procreate. These families had inherited all of the wealth of planet Earth, and when the war had ended, they had made changes. Society was divided into two groups, aristocrats, those of the stable bloodlines, and slaves, those grown in cloning facilities to cater to the every whim and want of the nobles. Cloning had been perfected in the wake of the wars, it was cheap and easy, and with the cheapness of cloning came the cheapness of cloned life. Clones were grown of past celebrities or designed from scratch, on the whim of the creator. The nobles grew hundreds or thousands of slaves for each of them, then had to deal with overpopulation. The result was that clones were killed as a regular part of life.

Schools were established for the Clones, and those who proved themselves more intelligent could rise through the ranks and hold respectable positions, although they would always be subservient to even the lowest noble, but they comprised less than five percent at high school graduation. College graduates were perhaps ten percent of these. The staggering numbers of clones meant that every day at school, any infraction, any failing, would be answered with immediate termination, with their meat being used to feed the rest of the world. And that Post too long. Click here to view the full text.

Alright. Here's the first part of the next Snuff-O-Gram story. As usual no knowledge of Doctor Who is needed to enjoy this story, but if you want to you can look up the actresses who play the parts (Karen Gillan, Pearl Mackie, and Stephanie Hyam) and imagine them acting out the story.

Amy Pond: Alien Space Slave Snuff-O-Gram
Tags: Doctor Who, F/F, Oral, F/F/F, Fingering, Willing, Dominant and Submissive, Roleplay, Dissection, "Xenophilia", Cannibalism, Prostitution, Snuff

Amy Pond always wanted to be snuffed, so when she reports as a Sexy Green-Skinned Alien Snuff-O-Gram to Heather's dorm room for her girlfriend Bill's birthday, she gets exactly what she asked for.

__________________

Amy Pond approached what was definitely a college dorm somewhat nervously. She was drawing heads in a way she never had before in her life and underneath the imitation Princess Leia slave Bikini she was wearing, she was absolutely soaking wet from that fact.

Today was her first time being ordered from her company's “special service” catalogue. If all went well, it would also be her last.

Amy shivered as a stiff breeze blew up the amalgam of cloth and metal she was wearing that passed for clothing, brushing past her exposed and inflamed nethers, as well as in between the mostly metal and enamel bra and her puffy currently darker green nipples.

That was the hardest part of this order of course. Not what was waiting in store for her, she hadn't done that yet but she was definitely looking forward to that part. No, the hardest part was soaking for all of last night in a tub full of green food coloring. It probably wouldn't be good for her long term health, but she wasn't exactly worried about that anymore. More importantly, it would be fine in the short term, even edible! And it would stay on until the end of her work today, at the very least.

Now the only part of her not dyed some shade of green was her lustrous red hair, so it made sense that she was drawing gazes, both male and female, as she walked across the university campus as a green-skinned redhead in a metal slave bikini. She was certainly eye catching.

It took Amy almost 10 minutes to find the dorm she was looking for, the dorm whose resident had payed the frankly sort of exorbitant price to order her from the “special service” catalogue her Kiss-O-Gram agency put out. She had to check her instructions again just to mPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

"No one can hide from my sight..." Widowmaker breathily moaned to herself as she gazed through the scope, eyeing her target. The Talon assassin was perched on a balcony high up a skyscraper, long-rifle mounted on a tripod and aimed at the plaza below. The right moment hadn't yet come to pull the trigger, perhaps because Widowmaker's long slender fingers weren't even on the trigger. Rather, the digits responsible for ending the lives of so many were busy pleasuring their mistress - one hand groping her pert breasts, the other working her slippery slot. The only sound on the balcony was Widowmaker's coos of pleasure, the thrill of the impending kill pulsing through her as she played with herself on all fours, shapely round ass raised in the air while swaying to and fro.

The assassin's normally haughty, emotionless face flushed as she felt her climax coming - a climax that once subsided, would mean the end of her target. This was the only time she could feel emotion - from the thrill of being an apex predator claiming its prey. Her fingers furiously worked her oozing cunny as the pleasure intensified.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?!"

Widowmaker's head snapped around as a shout from behind her interrupted her ministrations. Her elegant face twisted into a scowl. A fat security guard stood there, no doubt some useless desk jockey hired by the building she had broken into. He held a flashlight in his hand, the beam falling square on Widowmaker's lovely ass.

The assassin snarled and cursed in French, furious at being interrupted from her impending orgasm by this worthless waste of meat. She briefly considered finishing up before finishing him, but decided to instead zip up her bodysuit and dispose of the intruder, not wanting him to glimpse any more of her lithe body than he had already seen.

That brief moment of hesitation cost her. She had intended to jump up and bury a Venom mine in the man's face, but as Widowmaker leapt into the air the security guard had already launched into a lumbering desperation charge to tackle her. The result was the guard's meaty shoulder lowering straight into Widowmaker's gut as she was airborne. Her grunt of surprise was quickly interrupted by a shriek of pain, as the momentum carried the pair straight into the balcony railing - Widowmaker taking the brunt of the impact. Her slender form was wracked with pained wheezing as the air was knocked out of her, her Venom Mine Post too long. Click here to view the full text.

(A thread of stories that take place in the savage land of Vaniria. If there is interest in this story, I’ll post more. Feedback also appreciated.)

Ambush at Icefall Pass

(gory combat, blood, piss)

The shieldmaiden glimpsed her opponent through the snow drifts.

The warrior, clad in mail and fur, stood amidst the bodies of her fallen comrades. Underneath the half-helm, baleful blue eyes glowered at Enyara from across the field. “You will pay for the blood you’ve spilled!”

Enyara exhaled from exhaustion. “I’ve killed five of you already. Let’s call it a day.”

“No,” said the warrior. She drew two hand axes from her belt and brandished the broad shafts in her grip. “Blood pays for blood. Prepare to die.”

“So much for diplomacy.” Enyara brushed an orange curl from in front of her eyes and squared up to face her opponent. Her blade was slick with blood and her shield battered, to say nothing of her body. A red cut glistened wetly on her left arm and she felt the bruises on her other arm and chest whenever she moved.

She glanced around at the battlefield. Slaughter was a word too inadequate to describe what had taken place. There was not an empty patch of snow anywhere to be found. Bodies, battered weapons and broken shields lay scattered about across the icy plain, juxtaposed or heaped together in haphazard piles. Neither side had come away the victor. Towards the end, she had begun to slay whoever had come at her, unable to tell the difference between friend or foe.

Her last opponent stalked through the snow. The mail hauberk she wore was splattered with blood and the axes she hefted dripped with gore. She moved, like a predator, and Enyara was the prey.

The redhead raised her shield and pressed forward. She kept a close eye on her enemy over the rim of her shield and pivoted her body to meet the warrior. The woman moved with a swiftness that dismayed her, darting and ducking from her swings. Enyara thrusted her blade forward and the enemy caught it on the edge of her axeheads. Her sword was wrenched from her, her shield pulled down by the twin axes and a sharp kick planted her on her ass. The impact knocked the wind out of her and she fell on her back to stare up at the white sky.

Her strength failed her. Her muscles refused to budge. She could only watch as the rival warrior loomed over her, a phantom of death, covering her wiPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

My very first story! I hope it's good ^^

---

"Nanette!"

The short plump girl turned her head, smiling at her new friend bouncing up and down with excitement.

"Aria! What is it?"

"The exhibition! They've posted the sign-up list on the board! Come on!"

Nanette let her friend pull her by the wrist towards the school news board.

She'd only recently transitioned into this private girls-only boarding school after her aunt finally won custody of her from the state after both her parents had their parenting rights taken away. She frankly didn't care who was going to 'officially' take care of her, having spent her entire life in one establishment or another; this particular school had a reputation for being weird, though, and she was looking forward to finding out what would happen.

"What exhibition?", she whispered in her friend's ear as they entered the massive crowd in the corridor where the board was. Clearly Aria wasn't the only one excited for the upcoming event.

"Oh, you don't know?", - giddiness in the girl's voice suggested she was more than happy to tell her new friend ALL ABOUT this. - "It's a twice-yearly event! There's an exhibition of torture devices and execution methods from around the world. They have a huge pool, and they randomly select several every time! They post the list on the board, and students sign up for auditions! The torture devices are real, too, and used for real, and execution methods are usualy not!"

"Usually?..." - Nanette's voice jumped up and down, reflecting her surprise at the information. That people would volunteer to have torture devices demonstrated on them was weird enough... although she was admittedly curious to participate herself.

But - would they actually for real kill their students? The school DID have a weird reputation - Nanette's aunt needed quite a bit of convincing to let the girl choose it for herself...

"Well, yeah! They randomly, again, choose one exhibit every half-year to be real. Students who audition for that one are warned, and then forbidden to tell anyone! If someone tells, they do a complete shuffle of all the roles and choose another exhibit to be real that time!"

"Shuffle all the roles?..."

"Well, yeah! I mean, they have someone else to warn their exhibit is going to be lethal, and they can agree or refuse all over again, and they can't let it slip what it's going to be, so they have to changPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

Anyone has the full version of this story saved? I managed to find a copy of it on wattpad(for some reason), but it was incomplete and seemed to have really poor english.

A Thousand Worlds of Despair: Crimson Comfort

(gg, oral, rimming, mercy killing)

Rika Furude sat on the floor of the house that she shared with Satoko Houjou, her fellow resident’s blond haired head resting on Rika’s lap. Satoko was dressed in her green pyjama top and pants, while Rika was dressed in her pink nightdress. It was a few days after the deaths of their fellow club members and Rika had spent the intervening time desperately trying to comfort Satoko. But as was usual in this infinite cycle of sorrow, her efforts were in completely in vain. Satoko’s broken sobs were only quietened when the girl was so exhausted that she had no choice but to slip into broken sleep.

For her part, Rika had shed no tears for her friends. She was far too used to their deaths to feel anything but exhaustion anymore, but seeing Satoko so hurt always managed to stab her in the last remaining part of her soul that could still feel. At least Satoko’s wouldn’t be in pain for much longer...

Today was the end stage of this scenario, the night of their deaths. Countless times Rika had tried to at least save Satoko in this scenario, but her efforts were always in vain. Whoever was so determined to kill Rika did not let Satoko escape. Of course, that was only the few times that she could convince Satoko to make a run for it. Usually Satoko would refuse to flee, sanding with Rika in solidarity, facing certain death with a bravery she did not feel.

Any world where Keiichi fell prey to the Syndrome’s final stage was a futile world, where no other actions could possibly bring any change to her cursed existence, Rika’s irrational clinging to a cursed life only causing her and her friends agony after agony. With a sigh she looked at the tear streaked sleeping face of her friend, again doubting the course of action that she had decided on after receiving news of the others’ deaths.

Hanyuu’s voice was silent, Rika having drunk enough to cause the spirit linked to her soul to pass out. It had been necessary as Hanyuu would surely object incessantly to her plan. What she planned to do was monstrous, but it was hardly worse than doing nothing and letting Satoko suffer further. If she could not save her friend, she could at least try to minimize her pain. Trying to act resolutely, she leaned down with her blue haired head and started to lick the other girl’s face, tasting the salty tear tracks with her pink tongue.

The sensation woke Satoko, wPost too long. Click here to view the full text.