/lit/ - Literature

№3642

Johann Strauss was born to a prostitute, who lived in one of the many whorehouses in the city of Concor, capital of the Kingdom of Concorro. As a child, he grew up with dreams of living a successful life, taking care of his mother, and maybe even raising his own family in a small house outside the city. He knew it would be difficult, but he wanted to try regardless if only to prove his pessimistic mother wrong.

As he grew up, he began to learn. He learned how to earn money through street games and scams and theft. He scavenged through the garbage and brought home books and scrolls to teach himself how to read and write. He learned how to act and speak in a way that made others pity him enough to give him spare change.

He made acquaintances (no friends for there was no friendship to be found in the streets), made enemies (desperation was motive enough to drive anyone to do something stupid), found love (it wasn’t a crush god fucking damn it!), and a hundred and one other things besides.

He also learned that innocence was a fool’s word. And that he was better off without it.

x-x-x-x-x-X-X-X-X-X-X

When he was twelve years old, Johann Strauss took his first life.

He had been part of a gang at the time, a polite term for a group of street urchin. The motley ensemble was led by a particular piece of work, with the inability to accept failure and a sword sharp enough that no-one dared cross or defy his commands. Under his leadership, the ‘gang’ had made a plan to rob the Adventurer’s Guild, seizing the monthly gold earnings just as it was to be transported in the late hours of the night and making off with it before any of the Adventurers could rally and put up a fight.

Turns out several dozen underfed, under equipped street urchins were nowhere near enough to take on a dozen men and women armed with monster-slaying weapons and had decades of battle experience.

Johann saw his ‘gang’ members slaughtered to the last, the pleading cries of the dying silenced with firm stomps to their head. He only had a dagger to him name at the time, an old thing that was more rust than actual steel. He abandoned his post as a ‘distraction’ ran for one of the carriages transporting the gold, stuffed his pockets with as much as they could carry, and fled.

Or, at least, tried to. Someone grabbed his arm.

“Where do you think you’re—“

The voice sounded familiar, but Post too long. Click here to view the full text.

I'm sitting and waiting for her to make a loud noise, I look at her slender body, spidery limbs lazily bound to the chair at the wrists and ankles, her head drooping aimlessly about, too heavy for her to carry so that all she can do is sway back and forth, dragging along her golden waterfall of sweat frizzed hair.

I wait for her to make a loud noise, but it doesn't come. When I first put the tape over her mouth, she had so much screaming she tried to let out. I thought her parents might've been able to hear it up stairs if they weren't already well on their way up to heaven. She would stomp and tense, and her chair shuffled along randomly on the floor, I had to hold it down to keep her from kicking herself over. She had so much energy then, that was about 16 minutes ago. But now I wait for her to make the same noise, and I don't think she can.

When she looks up to me, it's only for a moment before she gets too tired holding up her head and her neck cranes back down, dropping it. When she looks up at me, her eyes just flit across mine and lose focus, finding nothing of interest in the ceiling and slowly rolling up into her head before she lets it drop again. When she looks up at me, I get a little rush of pleasure, waiting for that big sound, the anticipation grows higher as I realize it won't come. I look at her face, soaking hair matted to her forehead. The red color slowly running from her cheeks. The tape from the beginning of our play date pushed over her mouth. It's become a little loose, and when she breathes in the loose flap is sucked up to block her nose. She's starting to shake, she looks cold, I go to her.

She's nearly glistening under the warm cellar light, the smokey dust of the unused basement flirts with her form like the aura of a dream. She tries to look up at me and doesn't make it all the way, her head drops back down before she can raise up to met even my chest, so she just shivers. When I'm this close, I can hear her wheezing against the wrinkled grey tape as she tries to breathe in. I can see her back heave and drop randomly. I help her, I take my hands to her cheeks and lift her face gently. Now she can make eye contact with me.

Dialated eyes focus on random parts of my face, they don't look like they're taking in any more than a blur. They're blue, they're bigger than ever, and more beautiful than ever as well. I can see them focus and null out and repeat and repeat, I see her eyebrows wriPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

Disclaimer: This is more for sharing an idea than a full story for now. Feel free to spin this further as you please. Main focus is "her" experience and fascination with her own guts coming out.

---

Lisa sat down, after she had recovered from the first shock of falling from her bike and hurting her belly on the sharp corners of some farming equipment that had been left on the field road. Now she looked at the red, bubble like thing that bulged out of her belly. She was only wearing shorts and a bikini top, so her belly had been free. Oddly enough It barely bled and looked almost pinkish, so she wondered what it was. At first she thought it was a piece of plastic. It shifted slightly as she pushed against her belly skin next to it. The sight was mesmerizing as it bulged a tiny bit further out as her skin shifted. Almost like some kind of balloon. Curiously she touched the pinkish bulge. It was sticky, and she felt a numb poke somewhere inside her belly. She pressed on the other side and saw it slide out a tiny bit further. Oddly curious she squeezed her belly muscles and put a bit of pressure in her belly. Not much, after all the wound was painful. With the added pressure it bulged further, sliding ever so slowly, until suddenly, with a relief of tension and a jiggely jerk, the bubble popped free and somewhat unraveled. Gasping, she gaped at what was now clearly a loop of her entrails, coming out of the hole in her belly - coiled once on itself around her bellybutton, and then went back inside of her. It even moved slightly on its own, like a worm. It was mesmerizing. Gross and fascinating at the same time. She should have been panicing or afraid, but all she felt was curiousity and fascination and maybe a bit of arousal. Hesitantly she touched the loop with a finger, felt the loop of digestive-tract-muscle clench and propel its contents through itself as if it was an animal on its own. Playfully she squeezed it with two fingers, halting the progress of whatever she had eaten for breakfast that was in process of being digested...

Lisa hesitated for a bit, playing with the part that was supposed to be inside herself, but it did not particularly hurt. Not more than doing nothing. Feeling increasingly aroused she decided to be a bit bolder and gently tugged on it. It was the weirdest feeling in her belly, like someone was sucking on her insides. Slowly but without much resistance, more of her colon came out. In school she had leaPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

Well this has been years coming, but here’s my part 2 in the Red Series. Haven’t really proof-read or edited it, but if someone wants to make corrections or edit it I won’t mind. Anyway here you go:

Red The Myth Hunter:

Chapter One: reflections of the past

The silk sheets felt incredible against Red's naked body.  She lifted her hands over her head and stretched as she yawned deeply. If there was one thing she had learned after years of traveling, it was to always spend the necessary money for the best room at an Inn.  She rose slowly to a seated position at the edge of the bed and then stood up.  Her knees popped, her back cracked and she let out a little sigh. Placing her hands on her hips she rolled her shoulders backwards and tilted her head from side to side. More pops, more cracks.  She walked over to the long, finely-crafted mirror that stood against the wall to one side of her bed.  Red always felt a mixture of pride and disgust whenever she took the time to glance at her reflection.

It had been 10 years since her battle with the wolves that had killed both her family and later her adopted father, but the years had done nothing to lessen her natural beauty.  Her long and wavy red hair framed a face that was nothing short of gorgeous. Piercing green eyes were set like jewels above a small but perfect nose and luscious full-lips, freckles dotted her cheeks and nose, giving the impression that she was younger than her 28 years.

Gazing downward she inhaled deeply as she took in the sight of her battle-scarred body.  Following her neckline down her eyes came to rest on her one naked breast.  Perfectly tear-drop shaped with a tiny pink nipple, her single breast was about as perfect as a breast could be, however it's image was ruined by the deep white scare where its partner should have been. Only a little of her flesh remained beneath the old wound, almost giving the impression that she still possessed both, one just far smaller than the other. With the clever use of a couple handkerchiefs tucked into her undergarments she was confident that no one she met on the street ever knew of her disfigurement.

Her eyes drifted further down her body, lingering briefly on the scars that crisscrossed her hips and belly.  She shuddered as memories of the long crawl through the forest swept through her mind; horrific images of her own guts dragging behind her as she prayed for salvation caused her to shPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

hat jemand hier auch Stories in deutscher Sprache?
Does anybody have stories in German language?
Tittortures, debreast, nipple torture, cock-torture......

Nyx had always been a loner. All through his middle school and up to almost his senior year, he rarely talked to anyone, even his teachers. Nyx knew why he was a loner, for he was lusting after something society would label as a taboo: to make passionate, lusty love to a deceased body. He cared not for the gender they were in life, he realized that even though society would reject him, the corpses would not. So, gay or straight, he would accept either.

He had his sights set on a beautiful young lady named Quintessa. She was truly the epitome of dark, gothic beauty. He never cared for those rich, preppy or stuck up girls, no. The dark lifestyle was sexy and fascinating.

But, Quintessa was perfect, with her long, dark hair; her silver-gray eyes full of life; small, but curvy build; and tan skin. He could hardly wait to finally experience the true meaning of his lust.

And now, two weeks from graduation, he had set his plan in motion. All he needed was to execute it. He had his knife to slit her throat, he would not make her suffer, no. He wanted her pure, he would have strangled her but found, to his amusement really, he always had a bit of a bloodlust, but for her, he will hold back. He will not mutilate her if he can help it. He hoped for little or no struggle this night.

He entered her house without much struggle, taking care to not make much noise. He wasn't sure which room was hers, he'd have to be extremely careful, and once he reached it, he would have to crawl out a window, as going back the way he came was too risky.

It didn't take long to find her, as there were only 3 rooms in the house, one being a bathroom. He snuck carefully around her bed, positioning himself behind her, and, with one swift but careful movement, made a small incision in her neck. Her jugular would cause too much blood, and too much of a mess. He then tied a small cloth around her mouth and nose, leaving about a 1/4 of an inch of space between the cloth and her face. Quickly but quietly, he heaved her soon-to-be lifeless body over his shoulder, searching for a window.

Suddenly, he felt a small kick, hitting his leg. Another one. Another one. His victim was struggling. She knew. He would have to hurry.
He felt among the dark walls, searching for a window, and finally finding one. He carefully lifted it, knowing the slightest squeak might shatter his plans. Her body was heavier then he thought, but it didn't mPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

This is my original work and also my first submission here, critics and comments are always appreciated.
P.S: I'm not a native English speaker, apologies for typo or shit grammar.

Hitman: The Saints' End
Part 1

Agent 47 was laying low in some piece of shit motel when The Saints are ordered to kill him.
Little did they know, the legendary hitman had already prepared for their arrival, because earlier he had hacked into their communications line and gather all the required information to set up traps for nine trained assassins.

The first victim that falls into the hands of the hitman is Jennifer Anne Paxton, he knows it because 47 had already read all of The Saints member's data, she has blond hair and blue eyes with a scar near her right lips that turns out to be a glasgow smile, but despite the scar, she looks beautiful and hot wearing those skimpy nun uniforms.

She was standing in front of 47's ruined hotel room to check if the hitman was still breathing after the explosion from strategically planned assault using an RPG, and while she was checking under the debris, 47 surprise her with an attack from behind, holding the nun using chokehold, but the nun isn't going down without a fight.

She was an expert in close quarter combat, having participated in numerous illegal kickboxing match where she always ended as the victor, she throws well placed punches on 47's chest and stomach and even kicks him to the ground, but 47 being the legendary hitman that he is doesn't waste time to plan a counter, when Paxton throws a right hook, 47 grab her arm and pull her to the ground, don't want to take any chances, he breaks her arm and take the other arm just to break it also.

She doesn't scream loudly because the moment she open her mouth, 47 gags her with his tie that he was wearing, and he was wondering what it feels like to have sex, of course he knows how to have sex, but being a hitman doesn't really do you any good in the sex life department, and in front of her lies a beautiful girl that won't do any harm while 47 fucks her.

So he grab his Silverballers pistol and shot both her kneecaps so she couldn't run, she was crying at this point, muffled screams and begging that wouldn't do her any good, and I think she knows that, but maybe she is just clinging to hope that 47 will just let her go.

She is mistaken.

Because the next thing she knows is 47 yankiPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

David watched with terror as the loan shark stood over him. He and his wife Lara were bound and gagged inside what looked like some kind of abandoned warehouse surrounded by several very unfriendly looking men.

“You own me twenty thousand dollars David,” the loan shark growled at him. “I’m growing impatient.”

David tried to respond through his gag, but the only thing that came out was a series of faint moans.

The loan shark nodded at one of his men who went over to Lara. At this both she and David let out a series of panicked moans through their gags, growing even more frantic as the man produced a knife. Grabbing Lara’s blouse he used the knife to help rip it open, then cut the strip of fabric connecting the cups of her bra, exposing her perky, ample breasts.

The loan shark gazed at his wife appreciatively for several moments before returning his attention to David.

“Your wife has lovely tits David,” he said dispassionately. “It’s a shame really.”

The loan shark turned and went over to Lara. David watched as he reached into a bucket on a stool next to the chair his wife was tied too and picked up what looked like a piece of ice. Then cupping her left breast with his free hand he rubbed the ice over her nipple, causing the rosy nub to harden from the cold. Throwing the peace of ice away the thumb of his other hand stroked the crown of her breast, rubbing her chilled, slightly damp flesh.

Still grouping his wife’s breast the loan shark looked back at David before reaching into his coat pocket with his other hand and taking out a bright, silvery object. Holding it up for him to see David realized after a few seconds that it was a cigar cutter. He stared at it for several long moments as he tried to figure out what it could be for before his heart froze with horror as it suddenly hit him.

Lara could see the cigar cutter as well, and it was fairly obvious the exact moment she realized its intended purpose as well from the way she suddenly started thrashing around against her bonds with a loud, muffled cry through her gag.

Given how tightly she was tied down she wasn’t able to move much though, and after holding up the cigar cutter up for another moment for them to see the loan shark turned back to Lara. Husband and wife both stared in terror as the loan shark positioned the cigar cutter atop her pale breast with her nipple inside it. He pressed the cigar cutter aPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

I'm here again with a new story fresh from the bowels of hell itself. Jokes apart, this is something that I have had in the back of my mind for a long time after my last story of a female abducted and transformed by an alien. In some way this is a conceptual retelling: same basic premise but from another starting point and direction.

Be warned, this first post is only a prologue of sorts, and contains next to no smut, but in posting it I intend to commit myself to see the story finished at some point. Additional tags will be posted per chapter.