“Well, here we are: home sweet home,” the man said as he led the hobbled thing into the men’s restroom. “Obviously, we wouldn’t risk putting a volunteer like you in the executive suite or anything, but this isn’t a total dump.” 

Rendered sightless by its hood, the new sanitary unit made no move to look around at its station. Instead it just stared ahead, obediently awaiting further instructions. 

At a glance, it would be hard to believe it had been a fully-functioning person only two weeks prior. Its limbs now ended abruptly above the knees and elbows, capped with black latex that matched the hood covering its head. A plug-gag had been neatly stitched into its mouth, with a little chain to avoid losing the plug.

The handler fastened the fuckpet’s leash to the wall nearby with the sound of rattling chain. The hobbled creature glanced towards the noise and swallowed hard, as if that was the moment reality set in. It wouldn’t be leaving this room for a long time. 

“Now, I know you weren’t given the benefit of proper reconditioning, like most of our sanitary nuggets, but expectations remain the same. We have a chart right here on the wall to track your performance.” He tapped the whiteboard for emphasis. The fucknugget acknowledged it with a vague, unseeing look. “Any reported issue gets you a strike. Three strikes in a week means you’re out, just like baseball. Do you remember what that is?”

The sanitary unit nodded slowly. 

The handler gruffly laughed. “Most of our fucknuggets don’t nod when we ask them that. You’re really still in there, huh? I’ll never understand you volunteers.” He leaned down and ran rough fingers along the small of the new fuckpet’s back, where the word “slave” was tattooed in an elegant font, a relic of pre-conversion life. “I guess this is a kink thing for you? We’ll see how that holds up after a few days here.” 

The man’s hand kept wandering, soon landing between truncated legs. There, neat stitching marked the thing’s pussy, where it had been sewn shut. “I hope this particular alteration wasn’t a total surprise. We can’t have you focused on anything but your job, you understand.” Still, grazing his fingertips across it spurred a tremble and gasp from the nugget. “Maybe someone will give this ruined cunt some attention if you behave really well.” 

He stood back up and continued explaining: “As I was saying: three strikes and you’re out. Probably best not to discuss the details, but suffice to say a different fuckpet will be stationed here the following week if that happens.” 

That grim implication actually got a rise out of the new sanitary unit. It looked up sharply and gave a vague, muffled moan. 

“Calm down, calm down,” the handler half-heartedly consoled. “You’ll likely be around for a few months at least. Though I hope you were aware there isn’t exactly a retirement plan in this line of work.” He laughed again. 

The fuckpet looked down, clearly processing this information. 

“Anyway, I think you know the rest- just behave, present your holes when told, clean up any messes you make, and do your best to keep the patrons in a good mood. Understand?” 

The hobbled thing nodded and gave a muted “Mmhmm,” still facing the tiled floor it couldn’t see. 

“Any questions?” 

That prompt elicited another look from the fuckpet, arching its head. “Hm?”

The man answered with a light chuckle, before adding: “Right. I didn’t think so. I’ve gotta take a piss before I move on. Come here.” 

The fucknugget did as it was told. The short limbs resulted in its breasts almost scraping the floor as it crawled forward. Then, as it had practiced, it planted its leg-stumps before leaning back onto them, managing to “stand” upright. Its plug-gag was pulled open, presenting a pink, wet hole which contrasted starkly with the black latex covering the rest of its head. The petgirl stuck its tongue out expectantly. 

“You can handle simple instructions pretty well, huh?” The man asked disdainfully as he started pissing in the open mouth. To the new sanitary unit’s credit, it barely flinched as it gulped down the warm, straw-colored fluid. The vast majority went where it was supposed to, but some still urine landed on the thing’s hood or dribbled down its bare chest. “I hope this is everything you thought it would be. It would be a real shame to be regretting this already.” 

No one could see it, but the new sanitary unit smiled what little bit it could around the plug-gag. 

— 

The sanitary unit’s first shift was more or less typical for such a thing. Plenty of men pissed in its mouth, of course, as expected. Some streams were more acrid and tough to drink down than others, but the fucknugget took them all in stride. The hobbled thing licked the floor and facilities clean between visitors, as it had been trained, which served well to keep it occupied. 

It earned its first load of cum during the lunch break. 

“Did you see what the new girl is wearing today?” The man spoke salaciously, as he face-fucked the sanitary unit. The gagged thing gasped between thrusts, emitting occasional, guttural moans. “Here’s hoping she sucks at her job and ends up here in a few weeks.” 

His buddy laughed and took a long draw from his cigarette. “Yeah, she’d make a wonderful sanitation nugget. I suspect this one won’t be around long anyway.” He tapped the whiteboard, where “VOLUNTEER” was printed in big letters. 

The busy man chuckled, throwing off his vigorous rhythm. “You’re a volunteer, huh?” 

There was no answer from the fuckpet, aside from the GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK of its mouth and throat being used. 

“Why would you ever do this willingly? You must have been a kinky fuckin’ bitch before.” He turned back to his friend. “Hey, remember what happened to that last volunteer?”

His colleague nodded. “I certainly do. Mark never was able to retrieve his belt. Someone said it was still around the nugget’s neck when its body got tossed in the cart at the end of the week, with the other… retirees.” 

They both laughed uproariously. 

“You’re lucky I-” The man groaned in pleasure as he began unloading. “-like this belt, nugget.” He kept the hooded head right where he needed it, delivering a hot load directly into the sanitary unit’s esophagus. “You want a turn too? I warmed it up for ya.” His grip still didn’t relent.

The other man blinked pointedly as smoke billowed from his nose. “I did, but you took your sweet time today.” He stepped forward and pressed the business end of his cigarette against the busy fucknugget’s breast.

The hobbled thing’s guttural lamentations reached a new pitch as it tried pointlessly to retreat from the pain. However, its head was still held in that death grip. The cigarette stayed right where it was, hissing as the smell of burned flesh filled the air. The muffled screams changed, taking on the distinct cadence of something that used to be someone trying to speak. That wasn’t allowed. It also used its meager arm-stumps to pathetically push and shove against the thighs of the man holding him, breaking another rule.

This prompted another round of laughter from the two.

The cigarette was finally withdrawn, though it left a nasty, red burn behind.

“Rough way to start your new career, fucknugget,” the man with the cigarette said as he filled out the first strike on the whiteboard. “But rules are rules: no talking, no resisting.” He tapped on the board once for each rule where they were spelled-out explicitly, not that the sanitary unit could see. “That won’t be the only time someone puts a cigarette out on your skin, or way worse. You’ll need to toughen up. I’ll give you some leniency and just leave the one strike for that fuck-up.” There was almost the slightest hint of compassion in his tone. 

Finally, the fuckpet was left to collapse to the tiled floor. It gasped and shook for a moment, but managed to dutifully gather itself back onto its truncated legs before long. Then, it worked its way upright again and looked towards the two visitors, ready to obey.

“Attagirl,” the same man praised in an appropriately patronizing tone. He strode forward and patted the hobbled thing’s head. “How about this: if you’re still here Friday afternoon, I’ll pop by to fuck you in the ass, as a treat. Does that sound good?” He caressed its cheek.

The hooded fucknugget nodded hesitantly.

“And if you already have three strikes by then, we can really have some fun instead!” A harsh slap on the freshly-marred tit caused the fuckpet to recoil and yelp, which both men found hilarious.

“This damned thing will be lucky if it doesn’t have three strikes by the end of the day at this rate.”

“We’ll see.” There was one more demeaning pat on the head. “This one may surprise us.”

Underneath the hood, around the gag, the fucknugget was smiling once again.

This is the prototype of my story. I welcome all feedback on it! Here is an outline of the characters, I will write the full story of how they meet someday

James - 22, white, tall and muscular, a frat boy at the local university, on the surface just another dumb hot jock, but there are rumors of him being an extreme sexual sadist

Allison - 21, East Asian, average height and curvy, a former honors student who now spends all her time at frat parties while failing her classes, feeling desperate and anxious

James reached up and caressed Allison’s left tit while he sucked her clit and fingered her pussy with his other hand. His slow but sure strokes were making Allison’s brain melt. She threw off her green crop top, leaving just a black silky bra on top. James squeezed harder and sunk into the light olive flesh of her soft tits. He removed her bra and pinched her left nipple, bringing out a sharp moan. Then, while continuing to finger-fuck her, he raised his mouth to her right nipple and suckled on it while playing with her left breast. Allison’s moans grew louder as she ran her hands through James’ hair, and pulled him up to her face. They kissed passionately and Allison tasted her own juices on his lips.

As they held the kiss for several moments, Allison felt a cold pang against her tit. She looked down to see James holding a long and thin hunting knife against it. Whatever her indignant reaction would have been was stifled by James deepening their kiss. He made a “quiet” gesture and drove the tip of the knife into her spongy flesh. She whimpered in pain into his mouth, prompting him to roughly wrench a hand around her neck while removing the knife.

Allison’s hand reached down to caress her wounded breast. “Thank you?” she moaned weakly.

“I knew you’d like it” he replied. Allison felt returned to his go-to position, fingering her with one hand and playing with her intact tit with the other.

“I love what you’re doing to me baby. I don’t know why? How did this happen?”

“Just look at those beautiful tits you got Ally. Don’t you like to have them appreciated?”

He plunged his knife deeper into the same wound. Allison whimpered more loudly than before and some perverse pleasure center opened in her brain. “I love my tits…” she trailed off. “They’re perfect” said James. “Can you play with them again please babe…” James obliged and licked her left nipple just inches from the still-embedded blade, tasting a mixture of sweat and blood.

“My beautiful tits are ruined James… I want you to take my whole body. There’s nothing of me left. Ruin everything” she moaned. “Of course baby, I’d do anything for you” he replied. He ripped the blade out and sliced off her left nipple. She screamed like a caged animal, clawing at the bleeding wound on her breast.

James then drove the knife deep into her navel. She writhed in pain and pleasure as he continued to finger her. Her two fatal wounds competed for the attention of her hands. She pawed at the cruel, cold blade penetrating her toned belly and then returned to her gushing tit. Leaving the knife hands-free in her guts, he pushed her hair back and stared into her eyes. “You’re gonna die for me baby. You look so sexy with your perfect body ruined just for me”.

“You were exactly the person I needed tonight James. I want you to end me now-slice me totally open.” James again obeyed her demand. With a flick of the wrist he opened her abdomen and exposed her entrails to the humid room. Allison nervously poked around her own guts. James left the room for a moment leaving Allison to her crazed, dying thoughts. A month ago she never would have imagined this would be how it ended. Though she had always been a masochist she had never pictured giving up her life and body for the pleasure of a dickhead frat boy. But then again, maybe it wasn’t his pleasure that was the point anyway. Allison desperately pawed at her fatally wounded belly and felt an impossible bliss. She moaned softly as James reentered with his giant erect dick out. He planted a hand on her abdomen, next to the knife handle, as he gingerly entered her. Her pleasure built up to an indescribable level. He smacked her wounded tit roughly then caressed it. With the other hand he twisted the knife in her intestines.

Eventually Allison felt the last of her life slipping away. “Please remember me babe. This is the best night of my life. I hope it’s the best of yours.”

“Of course it is babe. The most beautiful girl in the world died for me tonight”. Allison’s thoughts faded to black as he gave one last jerk on his cold knife.

James knew her heartbeat had stopped instinctively. He pulled out and added his ejaculate to the mess of blood and guts on her destroyed corpse. James stared at the ceiling for minutes and contemplated what he had just done. He opted to get another shot of whiskey and address the problem tomorrow.

The oldest sister, Elara, was still laughing at some crude joke her youngest brother had made when she felt the first fingers dig into her hips, not playful, not teasing, but possessive, the way a butcher grips the haunch of a lamb before the blade drops. Her breath hitched, but not from fear. The thick, musky scent of male sweat and arousal already clung to the room, mingling with the damp heat between her own thighs. She knew what came next. They all did.

Her brother’s cock, already slick with pre-cum, pressed against the cleft of her ass, and she arched instinctively, her full breasts swaying as she braced herself against the stone altar. The family tradition demanded reverence, and Elara had always been devout. His grip tightened, and she gasped as he sheathed himself inside her in one brutal thrust, the stretch making her toes curl.

His rhythm was punishing from the start, each snap of his hips punctuated by the wet slap of flesh and the jiggle of her heavy tits. Elara’s moans climbed higher, her cunt clenching around him as pleasure coiled tight in her belly. She could feel the moment his control frayed, the way his thrusts grew erratic, the hot pulse of his cock swelling inside her.

Then the blade touched her throat. Cold. Sharp. A whisper of steel against skin. Her brother’s breath was ragged in her ear, his hips stuttering as he came, thick ropes of cum flooding her cunt just as the knife bit deep. Elara’s climax crashed into her at the same moment the blood began to pour, her body convulsing in ecstasy even as her vision darkened. The last thing she felt was his seed spilling from her, mingling with her blood on the altar.

The second sister, Lyria, was already being dragged forward as Elara’s body slumped. Her round thighs trembled, not from fear but anticipation, her nipples pebbled tight under the hungry gazes of her brothers. One of them, she couldn’t tell which, spun her roughly, bending her over the same stone, her plush ass raised in offering. She barely had time to whimper before a cock speared into her, the stretch of her asshole making her gasp.

Lyria’s fingers scrabbled at the altar, her tits swaying wildly as her brother fucked her with short, brutal strokes. The slap of flesh echoed in the chamber, each thrust forcing a broken moan from her lips. She could feel the knife’s edge teasing her pulse, the promise of release coiled tight with every slam of his hips. Her climax hit just as the blade did, her scream muffled by the hand tangled in her hair.

The youngest, Veyra, watched with wide eyes as Lyria’s body twitched, her brother’s cock still buried in her. She didn’t resist when hands pulled her forward, her own thighs slick with arousal. The eldest brother pressed her against the altar, his cock glistening with her sisters’ mixed fluids. “Your turn,” he murmured, and she shuddered as he entered her in one smooth thrust.

Veyra’s back arched, her full breasts pressed against the cold stone. His grip on her hips was iron, every snap of his hips driving her higher. She could feel the others watching, their breaths hot on her skin. The knife hovered, a teasing promise, as her brother’s cock swelled inside her. She came with a cry, her cunt fluttering around him.

The blade slid in as he spilled, her climax still wracking her body. Blood pooled beneath her, mingling with his seed. Her breath hitched, then stilled. The brothers exhaled in unison, their ritual complete. The chamber smelled of sex and iron, the altar slick with proof of their devotion.

Silence settled, heavy and sacred. The eldest wiped his knife clean, then turned to the others. “Next year,” he said, and they nodded. The youngest brother licked his lips, eyes lingering on the altar. The sisters’ bodies would be honored, their bones ground into the family’s bread. Tradition demanded nothing less.

There are currently 5 books in total. Every Fri morning CET a new chapter will be posted.

Prologue

This is a historical extract that provides some background on the "Contributing to Tomorrow" World. Why would a society adopt cannibalism?

Book 1 - First Draft

Monica's journey from Mother to meal and her struggle to leave a functional family behind. The story also contains the origin story of Helena and Alexandra (chapters 11 and 12 and Alexandra also appears in 1 and 4)

• Chapter 1 - Shocks
• Chapter 2 - Confessions
• Chapter 3 - Negotiations
• Chapter 4 - Hand Over
• Chapter 5 - A Family
• Chapter 6 - Goodbye
• Chapter 7 - Doors
• Chapter 8 - Waiting
• Chapter 9 - Unfinished
• Chapter 10 - Steps
• Chapter 11 - Caring
• Chapter 12 - Talking
• Chapter 13 - Family
• Chapter 14 - Reunited
• Chapter 15 - Feast

Book 2 - Private Slaughter

20 Years after First Draft. How has society changed? The story follows four women facing their slaughter in a private facility. We also take a look at how parents deal with the inevitable.

• Chapter 1 - The Letter
• Chapter 2 - Waiting
• Chapter 3 - Preparation
• Chapter 4 - Slaughter
• Chapter 5 - The End?
• Chapter 6 - Lisa and Eve
• Chapter 7 - Rose

Book 3 - Silvia's Apprenticeship

In this book, we look at the other side of the blade and explore Girl Butchers.

• Chapter 1 - Awakening

Book 4

Book 5

The dark halls of Dryl were a winding maze of chaos for the pair of visitors navigating their way to Entrapta’s lair. Adora and Catra have both learned of this castle’s twisting paths and confusing route during the war, albeit seperately and at different times. Still, it’s bizarre labyrinth was not something they could get used too even if they were to have a map of this place. After about half an hour of searching and going by one picture of a cat, they finally arrived at the door they needed.

Pulling it open, the couple was welcomed to the wide open room with contraptions and robots spread throughout. Most were glowing with life, while others were on the ground in piles or scrap heaps, needing to be repaired or discarded a while ago. Entrapta was at the back of the laboratory tinkering away on something. She was totally oblivious to the two that were walking in until the door slid shut behind them. She grew aware of their presence, but before she turned to greet them, she carefully pressed a simple button on her desk, allowing the lock on the door to engage silently, trapping them inside without their knowledge.

She turned to them in her swivel chair, giving them quite the startle when they were met with bulging, excited eyes, “You’re finally here! Perfect! There’s no time to waste!” She declared in quick, concise breaths.

“No time for whh-aaAHT!” Catra yelped when the scientist’s purple hair wrapped around her waist, dragging her abruptly forward. A similar shout arose from Adora as she was captured by another strand of violet locks, yanking them both forward like they were on a leash. Entrapta glided in her seat until they were at the appropriate contraption. When they were settled enough to look at it, they each shared a look of nervousness and curiosity.

The machine was rather simple looking, an abnormality for Entrapta’s passion projects. There were two large plastic bowls that hung from a pair of flexible rods. They were upside down, and there were pieces of machinery inside that neither recognized. They were attached to a rectangular box in the middle, with a control panel that Entrapta was thoroughly engaged with. As she was still moving them with her hair, Adora had the room to speak, “This is the thing you wanted help with?”

“Yes!” The tech princess exclaimed immediately, leading the couple onto either side of her with the bowls right above their heads, “I’ve been needing help for this project I’m working on and after Scorpia I needed more data. That’s why you two are here!” She beamed, placing the bowls on their heads. Catra’s ears slid into custom holes that the scientist molded for her, which put her a little at ease knowing that the genius at least was considering the differences between her friends.

“Wait,” but then she took in the information that Entrapta said, causing her to look over to the tech woman who was inputting the final commands, “What happened with Scorps?”

“Oh,” Entrapta sputtered, out, hiding her face by burying it in the panel, “Her brain waves flatlined after the process.” She stated so matter-of-factly that made their faces pale.

“What?” Catra gasped, suddenly having an urge to break free from her friend’s vice grip.

“Yeah, that wasn’t a successful test run,” Entrapta commented, taking out her recorder, “But I’m sure this one will have better results. I learned a lot from analyzing what was left of her brain.”

Catra echoed something in pure terror, but Entrapta wasn’t paying attention. She just tapped the start button on the tiny device, “Project Headfree Servants Log 86: The subjects have just arrived for the second test run of the machine. I’m still working on names for it, as well as this project,” she stated, ignoring the resistance that was felt on both sides of her as the couple tried to scramble out of her grip, failing every time, “So far I have the Brain Scooper, but that is just too tacky. But name building is for later. For now, it is time to commence the experiment!”

“Wait! Entrapta you don’t have to do this!” Adora cried, but it was too late. The woman had already hit the button. There was a sudden prick that ripped into her ears, something sharp and piercing. On the other side, Catra’s flailing began to end as a similar sensation was felt, probing into her mind. Lights on the machine flickered to life as they were counting down to the end of the process. Entrapta felt them spasming in her hair grips, watching their twisting features as the probes emitted heavy doses of electricity.

They were screaming when they both felt a third and final prick in the back of their skulls. But something rested around the hole, remaining there as the final steps ran it’s course. All of a sudden, the crying stopped, and so did the struggle. Entrapta released them from her grip, observing their arms falling limp at their sides. They wobbled on their legs, but were otherwise completely stable as the domes came off their heads.

She described the success of the procedure itself through her recorder, gathering her thoughts while inspected the wobbling bodies of her friends. They shared a similar blank expression, eyes crossed and jaws hanging open. She noticed that blood trailed steadily out their ears and around the control stick that was now implanted into both of their skulls. She dapped a cloth over the red steams, making sure that she didn’t disturb the rods too much before stepping away.

“This is so exciting!” She squealed to herself, looking at the two lobotomized bodies idly swaying on their feet. After a minute of soaking the image in, she began the test run, “Adorabot and Catrabot,” at their names, the pair tilted their heads to gaze at the scientist. It’s working! She cheered in her brain, but continued on with a simple command, “Please discard all of your clothing and place them in organized piles based on type.”

With her request issued, she sat back and watched the way the pair of once lovers disrobe. Adora shrugged off her jacket like the original value she had for it just vanished. She didn’t blush when her partner shimmied her pants down her legs, revealing her gentle slit beneath. And Catra wasn’t flustered at all by Adora’s tits bouncing free from her white shirt’s absence. In fact, they didn’t interact at all aside from sorting their clothes. And it wasn’t much of a connection. Adora would place her panties on the ground, then Catra followed, setting them right next to the first one’s white underwear.

However, despite the dull emotions, Entrapta was ecstatic, chatting all about the movements they made and how they obeyed with just a simple order without any fuss. Before she even knew it, they stood before her in the nude, neither glancing at the other’s gorgeous body.

“Okay, wonderful!” Entrapta giggled with glee, thinking about her next request. Luckily, her stomach rumbled at that moment, giving her the next logical idea, “Okay, Adorabot and Catrabot, there are some tiny treats on my desk over there. Could you grab them for me?” She asked, knowing they couldn’t say no. To her absolute joy, the naked ladies walked over without a fuss, moving their limbs like they were machines. 

Entrapta observed from her position as the pair grabbed a mini cupcake each, then turned around to return to the scientist. When they were arrived, they presented the sweets to her, and carefully she plucked the tiny snacks from their hands. She slipped one into her mouth, tasting the icing with a delightful sigh, before her next order came to mind, “Alright, Adorabot and Catrabot, please get on your knees.”

Neither of the braindead bodies hesitated for a moment, with Adora’s breasts bouncing as she let her legs falter. She slammed against the floor, Catra following with the same lack of grace with the motion. After that, they stayed there, unmoving and unfocused, yet Entrapta knew their hearing was tuned perfectly to her voice, so she knew there was still some part of them active. Taking the opportunity to test other reactions, she grabbed an old horde baton, equipped with a slightly weaker taser to help with these experiments.

Holding it with her hair, she ate the other cupcake before putting her focus on Adora. The husk of her former friend was still upright and proper, though now instead of a girl needing to be the best for everyone else, it was just her standard as one of Entrapta’s bots now. The princess first started with tapping the end of the stick against her back, receiving little more than a breath of air from the blonde girl’s lips. Then Entrapta took a few observations when prodding her breasts, zapping them for three seconds each to see her reaction. The lightning burned her breasts, but otherwise she was still motionless. Same thing happened with Entrapta tapped the taser on her vagina, supposedly her most sensitive region. But Adora didn’t bat an eye at the arcing energy harming her. She was still, just as Entrapta had hoped.

Turning to Catra, she did the same tests, singing her fur and making a foul odor arise from the burn hairs. But with every testing attack, the magicat showed the same response. Which was nothing. Her posture was similar to her partner’s for once, no longer relaxed or slumped over, though it wasn’t all her choice anymore. Entrapta giggled with glee when she finished her tests, ending it by just sticking the baton up the feline’s entrance, letting it sputter inside her while Entrapta determined the next order.

“Log,” Entrapta hummed into her recorder, her enthusiasm evident, “All tests so far have ended in resounding success. Just one more I want to do before considering this a victory for scientific advancement. Alright, Adorabot and Catrabot,” she addressed the bodies, “Please kiss each other.”

It was a simple request really. One that Entrapta made to be simple as a start. Just one interaction of two bots together. She hadn’t tested it before, but knew it would be key to having them as perfect servants. So when she saw Adora and Catra lean in, she was bracing for the connection, and the declaration that the experiment is a success.

However, smoke began to rise from their implant sticks, making them pause right as they connected lips. Entrapta noticed, but before she could even try and stop it, it was too late. The sticks caught fire, overloaded by the request and burning what was left of their brains, cooking it up like scrambled eggs. Their hair burned away from the flames, Entrapta reaching for a fire extinguisher while the bodies toppled over and fried. By the time she managed to dose them in the foam, the devices, as well as the brains they relied on, were beyond repair.

Disappointed, she addressed the results in her log, “It seems that bot-to-bot interactions require a better processor and battery to handle even simple tasks,” she said, turning and letting the bodies of her once friends, once subjects, and now just corpses on her floor remain as she went to her desk, typing up her needs as she spoke them, “I’ll need to update the software for them as well before I try another batch of subjects. Perhaps I can get Spinnerella and Netossa to assist me next time!”

Hey everyone, I'm looking for a story I read on here a while ago.

Iirc it was about some kind of (female) alien vampire that mainly feasted on the eggs of women.

The story was about a couple, where the boyfriend was seduced by the pheromones of the vampire and fucked by her, while his girlfriend got bitten into her belly where the vampire ate the eggs. Afterwards the vampire killed the girlfriend.

There were some parts before and after this, but that was the main part.

Anyone know where I can find that? I've tried different search terms, with no success.
Thanks!

“You’re a chicken 🐔 you won’t do it”
I read the message from girlfriend Melissa who was away on a family vacation. She’s right, it’s been my biggest fantasy and I’m too chicken to act it out. I see the chat box as she is typing
“If you get rejected, me and my mom will snuff you when we are back” *inserts picture of her mom giving a thumbs up*
“Ok, I’ll do it I’ve got nothing to lose” I reply
“😘😘 good luck” was the last message Melissa sent me.

I walk out of my room and strip off my clothes, after all meat doesn’t need clothes. I walk down the stairs enjoying the swinging motion of my balls and cock with each step. I get to the living room and hear chitchat. My Anunty Amander was visiting. This wouldn’t be too awkward being naked infornt of her we have been lovers since I turned 18, she infact took my virginity as a 18th birthday present. I was nervous being naked infront of my mom. I’ve had so many fantasies of fucking her that I was too sacred to act on, I couldn’t take that kind of rejection. Every time I fucked and snuffed a girl i invisioned it was my Mom.

I walk in mid conversation, feeling bold, excited and extremely turned on. My Aunty just looks at me and gives a seductive smile. My mom spits her tea out “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING”. Suddenly my boldness leaves my body but my cock stays hard. I try and cover up “I….i… was….. just…” I couldn’t get my words out. My Aunt gets up and hugs me from behind, her DD breats pressing on my back “sis give him time to explain” she says as she strokes my hard dick. My Mom sits there stern faced, her arms folded under her massive tits almost pushing them out her top. I gulp “ I just want to ask if, well now we have that new oversize oven, I was wondering, well, you know, maybe you could roast ME in it, and then eat me…. Alive” that was difficult to get out of my mouth “sorry” I say and go to leave the room. My aunty grabs my hand and pulls me back in to the living room. She nibbles my ear “why don’t you try harder to convince her” my mom just looks up at her knowing and gives a wicked smile. She leans back and spreads her legs exposing her plump pussy “yea, what are you going to do for me” she says.

I get on my knees as my mom lifts the hem of her skirt. I lick her lower leg, dragging my tongue up to her thighs where I kiss and nibble her inner thighs. I can smell her sweet scent as my mouth encloses round her pussy. My tongue explores her wet hole, I suck at her swollen clit and taste her juices. Her legs tighten around my head as she gets wetter ready to climax “oh baby I’m cuming, keep going” she pants as she shakes in orgasm and fills my mouth with her sweet nectar. She stands me up and grabs my cock “let’s get this meat boy into the oven” and leads my to the kitchen holding my cock.

She takes off her little dress exposing her chubby body and FF tits, her thighs are thick, belly is round and rump
Is tender. I drool at her body, maybe I made a mistake being cooked before I got a chance to eat some of her. She motions with her hand to sit up on the sliding oven tray. She rubs oil on my legs, deeply in my thighs like she’s massagging me. Her hands explore my body with oil. She then goes to my sausage and puts it in her mouth. She sucks my cock like a pro, it feels so good. I’m already sensitive so the pleasure is heightened. She sucks and licks all round my cock till I swell up and explode in her mouth. She looks at me and smiles “you taste nice raw, can’t wait to taste you cooked” she gives me a kiss before sliding me in the pre heated oven.

The heat is intense, every breath fills my lungs with hot air. I look out the glass window and see my mom and aunty 69ing on the dining table. Some how I get an erection, if my hands wasn’t tied up this would be the ultimate wank. After 45 mins I’m pulled out the oven. My skin is turning brown, the aroma of cooking meat is even making me hungry. I feel a stinging pain in my thigh as my mom pokes me with a fork and juice runs out. She prods my muscular chest “a little longer”. I’m slid back in for another 20 mins. The heat is dying down and I realise my nerve endings are dead, I’m feel dizzy and tired. I can’t hold out much longer I hope they don’t over cook me.

I’m slid back out the oveen and placed on the table where they 69ed a few moments earlier. What a sexy thought, getting eaten where they had sexual pleasure. My mom drags a carving knife up my body “are you still with us honey?” She asks. I barely nod my head and give her a weak smile. My aunty is taking pictures of my body to put on her social media accounts.

My mom slices a steak sized chunk of meat off my inner thigh. She stands by me and starts to eat me, making sure I can see her take every bite. My aunty puts my foot in her mouth and starts to bite off toes and eat the meat off my foot “wow sis your son is so tasty, we should of done this earlier” my mom nods as she bites into my arm. This is bliss watching these two sexy women eat me. I look down and my mom approaches my cock with a knife “I’ve been looking forward to this”. Like an expert butcher she slices around my pubic area freeing my cock and balls. She sits down with them in her hand. She licks my dick like a lollipop before biting off my thick cock head. What a sexy sight, my juices of my meat covering her large breasts making them glisten as she eats my cock. My aunty comes over and takes a bite “wow he was a good fuck but better meat” my mom finishes my cock “I wish he made some moves, I’ve all ways wanted to fuck him” she says as she starts to eat one of my balls.

I’m about to fade as my mom brings a slice of my meat to mouth. She puts it in and I mange to chew before I fade away “your last meal sweety” was the last words I heard before I died in bliss.

The night was absolute. Deep in the remote woods of the Pacific Northwest, where the old logging road cut through dense fir and cedar like a forgotten scar, the darkness pressed in with a living weight. No streetlights, no moon, just the faint scatter of stars choked by the canopy overhead. The air was cold and damp, carrying the scent of pine resin and rotting leaves.

He had been hiding out here for days—maybe weeks. A drifter, off the grid, his clothes ragged from sleeping rough under makeshift lean-tos. Hunger gnawed at him, but something sharper drove him tonight: isolation-fueled need, the kind that twists into obsession when no one’s around to witness or stop it. He crouched behind a thicket of blackberry brambles just off the shoulder, a handful of heavy-duty nails and screws clenched in his gloved fist. The road was rarely used after dusk. Perfect.

Headlights appeared first as twin pale beams slicing the blackness, bouncing over potholes. A small sedan, practical and feminine, crawled along at cautious speed. Inside, she was alone. Late twenties, maybe early thirties, driving back from a long shift or a visit that ran too late. Her name was Elena—though he wouldn’t learn it until later. Curvy, full-figured, with large, heavy breasts that strained against the soft fabric of her sweater even as she gripped the wheel. Long dark hair tied back loosely, makeup faded from the day. She yawned, radio murmuring low jazz to keep her awake.

The tires hit the trap. Three sharp pops in rapid succession—front right, rear right, then the spare momentum carrying her forward until the lefts caught the rest of the scattered metal. The car lurched violently, fishtailing before she slammed on the brakes. “Shit! No, no, no…” Her voice was muffled through the glass. She pulled over as best she could, the vehicle tilting at an angle on the ruined rubber.

He waited. Watched her silhouette fumble for her phone. No signal—this stretch was a dead zone. She stepped out, leaving the headlights on, their glow cutting weak cones into the trees. Jeans hugging her wide hips, that sweater clinging to the generous swell of her chest as she bent to inspect the damage. The nails had done their work thoroughly; flaps of rubber hung like torn flesh. She cursed softly, popping the trunk for a spare she probably didn’t know how to use effectively in the dark.

That’s when he moved. Silent on the soft earth, he came up behind her like a shadow detaching from the woods. One arm snaked around her waist, the other clamping a gloved hand over her mouth. She screamed into his palm, the sound vibrating against his skin—high, terrified, delicious. Her body bucked, those heavy breasts heaving against his forearm as she struggled. He was stronger, wiry from survival, and he dragged her backward off the road, deeper into the underbrush. Her phone clattered away, useless.

“Shhh. Quiet now,” he growled low in her ear, breath hot. “Scream again and it gets worse.” He zip-tied her wrists behind her back with practiced speed—items he’d scavenged and kept for… opportunities. She was crying already, mascara running, chest rising and falling in panicked gasps that made her breasts strain visibly against her clothes.

He didn’t rush the initial part. First, he stripped her methodically under the distant glow of her own headlights filtering through branches. Sweater peeled up and over, revealing a lacy bra barely containing her large, soft tits—pale, full, nipples already pebbled from the cold night air. He palmed them roughly, squeezing, lifting their heavy weight, thumbs circling the sensitive peaks until she whimpered. Jeans tugged down thick thighs, panties last—exposing her completely. She had a soft, womanly body: wide hips, rounded ass, a neatly trimmed patch above her pussy.

He pushed her down onto a bed of pine needles and his own discarded jacket, face down at first. His cock was already rock-hard, straining against his dirty pants. He freed it—thick, veined, unyielding—and rubbed it along the cleft of her ass while she begged. “Please… don’t… I have money, please just let me go…”

No mercy. He spread her legs with his knees and thrust into her dry pussy in one brutal stroke. She cried out, body tensing like a bow. He fucked her hard like that, hips slapping against her ass, one hand fisted in her hair, the other reaching around to maul those massive tits. They swung and bounced with every impact, soft flesh overflowing his grip. The night filled with the wet sounds of violation, her sobs, his grunts. He came the first time deep inside her, flooding her unprotected cunt, holding her hips flush so nothing escaped.

But the night was young. Hours stretched ahead.

He flipped her over, straddling her chest. Those big boobs became his playground. He slapped them lightly at first, watching them jiggle, then harder until they reddened. He tit-fucked her, sliding his slick cock between the warm valley, squeezing them together around his shaft. The head bumped her chin with every thrust. When he came again, ropes of cum painted her neck, her lips, dripped down onto her breasts like glaze.

Hours passed in a blur of positions. He took her missionary, legs over his shoulders so he could watch her face contort—eyes wide, mouth open in choked moans—as he pounded her cervix. He made her ride him, hands still bound, her heavy tits bouncing wildly while he slapped her ass and called her his new toy. Oral came next: he forced his cock past her resistance, down her throat until she gagged and tears streamed, holding her head in place while he used her face. Saliva and cum dripped from her chin.

Between rounds, he fed her small sips from his canteen, touched her more gently to confuse her senses—fingering her clit until, despite everything, her body betrayed her with reluctant orgasms. “See? Your pussy likes it,” he murmured. The psychological erosion began there. Fear mixed with exhaustion, overstimulation, the isolation of the woods where no one would hear.

By the third hour, her voice was hoarse. He’d taken her ass too—slow at first with spit for lube, then relentless, her screams turning to broken whimpers as he stretched her. Cum leaked from every hole. Her body was marked: hickeys on her breasts, handprints on her thighs, pine needles stuck to her sweaty skin.

Dawn was still far. He kept going. Edging himself now, drawing it out. He ate her pussy messily, tongue and fingers driving her to another shattering climax while she begged incoherently— for mercy, for more, she didn’t know anymore. The mind break wasn’t sudden; it fractured gradually. Repeated orgasms against her will, the constant fullness, the degradation (“Good little roadside slut,” “These tits were made for this”), the realization that rescue wasn’t coming.

By the time the sky began to lighten faintly through the trees, something in her had shattered. Her eyes, once full of terror, grew glassy and distant. She stopped fighting the bonds. When he untied her wrists, she didn’t run. Instead, she lay there pliant as he positioned her on all fours again, sliding back into her cum-soaked pussy with ease. “Who are you?” he asked, testing.

“…yours,” she whispered, voice small and broken. A free-use doll. Her mind had retreated somewhere deep, leaving only the body that responded to touch. She arched back into him now, those massive breasts hanging and swaying, nipples raw. When he pulled out and presented his cock to her lips, she opened automatically, sucking with soft, mechanical devotion. No more tears. Just acceptance. Emptiness. Usefulness.

He fucked her one final time as the birds started chirping—slow, possessive strokes while she stared blankly at the forest floor, drooling slightly around the cock in her mouth earlier. He filled her again, then dressed her loosely in her ruined clothes, leaving her in the car with the doors open. She sat there afterward, legs spread, cum drying on her thighs, waiting without thought for whatever came next. A doll on the side of a pitch-black road that had claimed her completely.

The woods swallowed the evidence. He disappeared back into the trees, sated for now. She remained—changed forever, mind fractured into obedient fragments, ready for the next hand that wanted to play.

If you feel like your comment might break some rules, you are absolutely free to DM me instead

Author and title Unknown. Enjoy!

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We'd moved up to his mountain cabin, about a mile from a resort village. He brought his barbecue equipment out of winter storage and began to polish and sharpen it as I drove down the switch-back road to fetch a girl. As I pulled away, he swung a heavy mallet, fixing the side supports of the crude rotisserie. Before I'd left, he’d gripped the tag attached to my labia and reminded me with one sharp tug to find a girl juicy enough to withstand a spitting.

By late Friday afternoon the lodge and all the B&Bs were filled with tourists from the city. Only the less knowledgeable girls would still be searching for a room. It took me less than five minutes to spot several likely candidates perusing the messages on the kiosk near the coffeehouse. I maneuvered my way between a pair of lovelies and asked, "Anyone looking for a place for the weekend? Our scheduled guests just phoned to cancel, and I was about to put up an ad." I drew out two colourful brochures.

Both girls nodded, and as they read through our little fiction, I sized them up. Really, it was quick work. The black-haired girl was spare, pale and anaemic, a splendid Goth chic. The blonde was slim, but her hips were gently rounded, and her ass curved high over deliciously muscled legs. I smiled at the pale girl, "are you two together? We have room for only one or two. Any more and we'd be overstuffed."

The goth shook her head and touched my arm, giving me a sly grin, and winked and grinned at the blonde girl, saying, "No. But, I wouldn't mind sharing!" 

The blonde flushed, muttered, "No thank you," then scooted away from us, and that was that.

The goth girl introduced herself as Amy, then smiled at me and followed me to the car. I enjoyed watching her as she slung a heavy bag into the trunk. Her breasts were perfect gentle mounds under her crop top, and her pants were parted in the middle to reveal a bare pink mound. We drove to the cabin, all girl talk and giggling about the weekend's festivities. She had her agenda well-planned: Dinner at Mel's, drinks on the terrace, and dancing under the fireworks. I smiled and said, "What about a nice Jacuzzi and massage first?"  

She nodded, then cooed in delight as we pulled into a sheltered lane and reached our cabin. He'd started fire, and wood smoke shifted in the breeze, drawing us both out back. She turned around in circles, admiring the secluded yard, the pool, the barbecue area. The Jacuzzi was mounted high on a redwood platform, giving guests a glimpse of the ski runs. He grinned at me, and nodded, then asked our guest, "How about a drink while you enjoy the tub? Clothing is optional."

He made his way up the slope for the drinks as Amy eyed the bubbling spa. As soon as he'd entered the cabin, she gave a little squeal and tore off her clothes and leapt up the stairs and into the pool. She gasped as she sank into the aromatic water. Her full, round breasts bobbed just beneath the surface, peeking out each time she shifted to take in a different view. "What is in this water? she asked, "It reminds me of my mother's kitchen!" She giggled and accepted a drink.

He nodded and took a seat on the deck, telling her about the soothing powers of herbs and oils. He said, "I've prepared a very special blend for your skin."

I sat close to her, and as he began to pet me, I began to pet her, and we sipped drinks not nearly as stiff as hers. She got a goofy grin on her face and sat up higher, showing off her splendid tits. I smiled and caressed them, tugging at one nipple, then at the other as she smiled and moaned and sucked down her cocktail. He watched, amused, as the drink took hold of her and she began to slip, giggling and nodding off, while I held her head above the water's surface.

He strode in to the cabin for his tools, saying, "Ten minutes more in the herbal bath, then we'll take her to the prep table."

 
In ten minutes I'd worked myself into quite a frenzy. I'd slipped off my clothes and slid into the pool, straddling her limp body, sucking her nipples hard into my mouth as I undulated against her. I took one of her hands and used it to stroke my clit. I used her mouth shamelessly, sucking in her lips, pressing her face into my breast, pushing hard enough to let her teeth graze my skin, encouraging her to bite down.  Her skin had got all pink and soft, and as she moaned and bucked, she pinched my nipple between her teeth and swirled her tongue against it enough to make me scream and shudder.

I couldn't help grinning, even as he smacked me hard across my cheek. I helped him carry the dripping girl closer to the fire pit. We hoisted her up onto a wide plank table. He brushed the hair from her face and ran his hands hard down her body, crushing her pillowy breasts beneath his large hands.

"Good, all natural," he noted as he continued his inspection, squeezing and testing her belly, her mons, gripping her upper arm, and using both hands to gauge the meatiness of her thighs and ass.

I drizzled heavy oil into my palm and began at her toes, coating every bit of her smooth, long legs. She whimpered a bit when I let the oil drip into her pussy. I was about to dip my fingers into her, when he gripped my wrists and said, "See to the catch pan over there."

I pouted as I crossed to shed, hauled out a long, deep trough and carried it up the hill. He was fucking her, gripping her hips and thrusting long and hard inside her. She’d started to buck and moan against him, still woozy, but on fire from his attention. I grinned and watched a bit longer, then I took the trough and placed it beneath the framework of the cleaning area. This frame held the long metal spit that would soon fill her. It rested here, just a short distance from the heat of fire pit, itself. The spit was set onto Y-shaped supports with clamps to lock it into place. About five feet below the spit lay the trough, ready for her next stage of preparation.

Some say that agony improves the flavor of the meat. Others want a quick kill. We were always happy to experiment. We used each sweet young body to improve our knowledge of the taste of girlflesh. This time, she'd be spitted, then gutted and washed and stuffed and roasted in a smoky cedar and mesquite blend. I thought he'd hit on the perfect combination. Three parts agony with one-part sweet delight, though some had wriggled on the spit and moaned with undeniable bliss. This one? We'd see.

I looked over and watched him as he forced her legs wide apart and jammed his cock hard inside her glistening pussy. She jerked and cried out as he fucked her. I approached them, unable to resist encircling his shaft with my fingers where it entered her. His cock plunged into her oiled pussy and I watched her come as his shaft pounded hard through my grip and deep inside her. She'd be well imbued with the chemistry of release. I smiled as he grunted hard and finished her.  He went to get the spit, and to distract her, I asked her to kneel for some special attention.

As she rose up to kneel, I slipped a wedge of wood under her belly. The wood's top surface slanted so that as she rested her belly on the block, her ass would be pushed up, with her head and breasts dangling lower. She giggled as I stroked and gently positioned her arms in leather cuffs on either side, attached to iron rings bolted to the table. I whispered about how gorgeous her round tight ass looked, and then I bit it, just lightly. She wriggled and moaned for more.  He approached with the spit just as I finished securing her ankles on either side of a spreader bar, then fastened them to rings in the table.  I surrounded her narrow waist with one last strap, determined to keep her in place for her impalement.

He carried an eight foot length of polished metal, almost three inches in diameter, and sharpened to a fine point. She was unable to see the stake, which disappointed me. He nodded, and I moved to her side. My job was to give her continuous pleasure as he pierced her with the spike and slowly impaled her luscious body. I knelt beside her on the wide plank table with one hand on her breasts, brushing them, flicking her nipples. She shuddered and spoke to me, promising to tell all her friends about our special treatment.

She gasped and smiled as my other hand began to stroke her clit in slow, circling motions. I was transfixed as he parted her labia with the oiled tip of the spit. The steel point grazed her velvet skin and she giggled a bit, wriggling. He slowly swiveled and inserted the pointed spear. Her body jerked hard and her eyes flew open as the cold metal entered her. "Oh, ak!" she cried.

I leaned forward and turned her head toward mine and kissed her. "Sh, Amy," I said, "Just enjoy the ride."

Amy smiled and let out one high pitched "Ooo!"

He slid the spit in deeper, playfully now, in and out, thrusting and then retreating, watching her pussy swell and glisten. She panted while we fucked her, my fingers teasing her clit as he stroked her. She begged for more, whimpering and wheedling. He finally pushed the heavy spit deeper in. She squealed as the spit met its first resistance. He pierced her cervix, then plunged inside her womb. She cried out as he impaled her, the pole's girth stretching her tight as her body instinctively tensed against the sharpened tip, offering a better path for the piercing point.

I felt her shudders and watched as she began to press herself hard against the pole, helping to drive it deep inside her. She was remarkable! We exchanged looks of surprised admiration for this girl. With each centimetre of progress, her body grew more flushed and aroused, her nipples hard, her pussy dripping sweet juice. She shuddered and sobbed but never stopped demanding more and more and more.

He swivelled and maneuvered the heavy shaft through her, slowly. Her cries became an indecipherable mix of pain and urgent need, and ecstasy. She shuddered hard as he passed the spit between her lungs. When I felt the spit at her breastbone, I got my hands around her face and steadied her so that the shaft could emerge from her lips. I kissed her hard, covering her mouth with mine as I felt her twitch and jerk, gasping as the metal shaft filled her throat.  

She responded eagerly, crushing her lips to mine, pleading incoherently.  I pulled away reluctantly as the tip of the spit entered the back of her mouth and watched as he gently pushed it through her parted lips. Her eyes were wide and glazed. She seemed to be riding the most intense orgasm of her life. Spasms rippled through her as the shaft emerged, forcing her head back. He gave it one final thrust, and now two feet of steel protruded from her tightly stretched lips.

She was magnificent. We stood back and took in the sight of her. She was trembling, and even now trying to move herself against the shaft. We shook our heads, wondering if she’d find the next phase as exciting. I took her arms and bound her wrists behind her. We released her ankles from the spreader and bound them to the spit, then we lifted her and carried her on the slippery pole to the waiting Y-supports which flanked the cleaning area. A short walk away, the fire pit glowed orange and blue-white, nearly ready. We'd have to toss on a few more wood chips during her roasting.

We suspended her and clamped the spit in place, suspending her with her belly down. I stroked her as she gazed below her, watching her face as he turned and selected a fine blade. Her eyes widened as he approached her, turning the knife to catch the glint from the fire, letting her see her fate in the knife's reflective surfaces. A hoarse, gurgling sound emerged from her mouth. I felt shudders pass through her thighs and belly as she attempted to writhe and somehow get at the knife. He placed his hands on her rounded belly, stroking her and feeling for the right spot. He wanted to take her slippery secret flesh out slowly, to allow her to revel in the tug and pull of each slick organ, each foot of entrails. He wanted her to enjoy it as much as we would.

He found a spot in her lower belly, and, holding his other hand splayed, he pulled her skin taut, then he pierced her skin. He'd perfected his technique, leaving her entrails whole and unpierced, but making a pathway in. I came close to see the small slit, blood welling and dripping into the catch pan below. I reached out to trace my finger around the lips of the wound, as he used gentle fingers to reach inside her. She shuddered when his fingers intruded, but then she pressed into his invasion. She moaned around the spit, whimpering, begging.

He smiled and teased out a loop of her slippery intestines, gently tugging it and letting her feel the thin connective tissues separate, releasing the coils, letting them slip outside her. She shivered and seemed to want more. He pulled and tugged, pausing each time she jerked or shuddered, timing his tugs to her reactions, feeding the slippery stuff into the catch pan. Each time she moaned and bucked, he increased the tempo of his tugging. A huge shudder passed through her as he used his free hand to massage her belly. The large lobes pressed and stretched her wound, then slipped through as she gasped around the spit. She seemed to arch into each organ's release, as if birthing. She screamed in sharp delight as he finally reached inside to cut the last bits free, and they slipped through her belly's red mouth and into the pan below.  

I came forward again, my body aching to be so well used, but he was all business. "Flush her out and then you can stuff her," he said, wiping his hands. I used a carrot-shaped nozzle on the end of my hose and wriggled my hand inside the slit in her belly. She was so empty now, so light, her moans faint and drowsy. The water revived her, sluicing through her, as the spit held her steady. As soon as she was cleaned, I turned and scooped up handfuls of glorious cornbread stuffing, full of herbs and butter, his secret recipe perfected on a dozen girls, at least. I pressed handfuls of the moist bread crumb mixture deep into her belly, filling her again. She moaned thanks, her body trembling as each handful found its place. My body throbbed, aching for attention as I thrust another handful of the stuffing snug around the spit, into her pussy. I hoped it would swell inside her as she cooked, pressing her hard against the spit for one more rush of pleasure.

He finished her preparation by sewing her belly shut. He pierced her flesh with a large gauge needle, pulling the coarse cook's twine through each puncture, lacing her slit tight. Each time he pressed the needle against her flesh, she moaned, then gave a high-pitched shriek as the needle poked through. He oiled her again, massaging the fullness of her belly, drizzling extra portions of oil onto her tender toes. We stepped back once more to inspect her. So beautiful. Her breasts were dangling, round and juicy, her rounded belly glistening, the spit protruding from her swollen pussy and her mouth.

Her eyes shone with some other-worldly light, as if she were privy to secret delights beyond our imaginations.  We released the poles, hefted the stuffed girl and carried her to the fire pit. Now, she would become meat. Now she would sizzle and turn, her body slowly turning golden. Her eyes would glaze, her skin would darken. Her meaty thighs and calves would bead with her juices, rolling down to drip from her knees into the fire. Her breasts would steam and swell and her nipples would begin to crisp as we basted her. Her belly would grow even rounder, filled with rich stuffing, flavoured by her sweetness and our desires.

We had a late supper on the deck. The glow from the firepit faded to grey as the fireworks began. Each burst illuminated the succulent girlroast gracing our table.  Brilliant red and white flares lit the sky. The lights danced across our dinner, off her rounded breasts, swelled with juices, golden. Her belly glowed bronze, so round and high and steaming. Sparkling streaks of green fire cascaded in the night sky as he sank a long-tined fork into her thigh meat. As he sliced through the crisped skin, I moaned at the intense aroma rising on a gentle wind. I stared at that deep sliced V, watching the juice run hot and clear. I longed to see him slit her belly open and let the stuffing burst over her delicate mons.

He caught my attention, smiling as he placed the tip of that blade just under my chin, and said, “Well done, girl." He winked and let the knife point at my neck draw just one drop of blood. "You’ll roast for me. But not just yet."

I felt like a prey animal, a bunny being herded by a pack of dogs. And how could I not feel like an animal when that primal, animalistic part of my brain, the one we all pretend isn’t there, roared to life, scattering goosebumps across my skin, my hairs rising in formation like soldiers ready for the danger being sensed ahead, alerting me that something was very, very wrong- before any other part me even knew they were there? 

They’re formed in a circle around me, three of them. They’re all standing casually, relaxed, with leering, smiling faces like they just found a nice surprise for the night. I’m standing very still aside from my flickering eyes, trying, but failing, to not nervously fidget as if they won’t be able to see me if I stand still enough. But these aren’t blind creatures in a dark forest. No, these were men who very much could see me. Even the ones standing outside of my periphery, I could feel their eyes burning through the back of me. 

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” One of them, a white man with colorful tattoos whirling up his forearms and disappearing beneath his rolled up grey crewneck, steps closer to me. He reaches up to touch my arm and I shrug him off and look away, sideways, down the alley. 

He laughs, “No one is coming save you, sweetheart. Didn’t anyone teach you not to walk in these parts? Or are you just a little stupid?”. He laughs again, the other three men snickering around me. I’m not looking at them though, or him, I’m still staring down the alley. But I’m not searching for help. I just can’t look at them or I’ll cry. I don’t want to give them the satisfaction. I’m silently trying to muster up the courage to do something, anything. I will fight. I will fight, I have to. I’m not looking at them anymore because I know I’ll lose any courage I scrounge up the minute their eyes meet mine but I saw enough of their builds to know there’s no chance I’m getting away from them unless they let me. They haven’t even said anything sexual yet but I had the worst feeling they weren’t letting me go until they got something from me, something I wasn’t willing to give. 

And, of course, I had heard that this side of town was a bad area. I’ve always avoided it. But my stupid boyfriend got mad at me tonight because he thought I was making eyes at a man at the grille when I wasn’t. But when I tried to argue, he pulled over and told me to get out of his car. I got out and went to open the back door to grab my purse from the backseat when he sped off. My phone was in there. And my wallet. And I was on the other side of the city. Avoiding this part would make my trek home entirely too long. I couldn’t get an uber or call for help. But I thought, it was 3am. The bars have all closed an hour ago. It’s dead quiet. Nobody will be around to bother me. I was wrong. So was I stupid? It was feeling a little like that. Still, fuck him for saying that and his stupid friends for laughing. 

I remind myself I have to be fighting so I force myself to voice that thought aloud. My ears are mostly being drowned in the sound of my thundering heartbeat but I hear enough of my voice to know it came out weaker than I intended. But it still lands, I think, as his grin falls. 

Faster than what I could react to, he grips my bicep, turns me around, and pulls me back against him, arm around my neck, the other groping my breast through my clothing. I try to pull his arm down, away from my neck, but he doesn’t budge despite me using both of my hands and all my strength. 

Im scared. My heart is racing, my breathing is growing more rapid, disgust crawls across my skin when he dips his hand down and pulls up the hem of my shirt, hooking my bra along with it on his hand’s ascent up my torso until my tits plop out of the fabric, the cool breeze instantly puckering my nipples, and he palms them in his hand. He leans down and moans and drags a warm, wet tongue up the shell of my ear. I cringe away in disgust. 

He laughs, grips my chin and jerks my face straight. “Look at my boys here, baby. You feel so good, I’d be a bad friend not to share, right?” 

I look at the two men in front of me. One, tanner than the one restraining me, was smirking at me with his arms crossed. The other, a black man with dreads just past his collarbone, wasn’t smiling. He was just staring at me. The guy behind me gestures to him and continues, “You see, my friend here has recently got married to a sweet, little doll and he’s been trying to be a good guy for her.” He drawls out sarcastically. “But, here’s the thing, love, he’s not really a good guy.” He mockingly shakes his head as if this was disappointing to him. “No, none of us are. He’s put himself on a leash, but tonight… he wants to break free and be a little ravenous with me and my brother here.” He nods to the other man. He pushes me away and I stumble a step before righting myself. “And you, stupid cunt, have walked right on by like a perfect little gift from God.” He laughs.

The black man cuts in, voice low and serious, eyes piercing through mine,

“Or the devil.”

It sends shivers up my spine and I straighten. I knew these men wanted to violate me but something about the way the air changed when he said that made me realize they, perhaps, were going to hurt me more than I thought. 

I glance around and decide, before I really gave it a real thought, to run towards the widest gap between the three of them. I barely get two steps before the one who had been holding me and the black man stepped together and block my escape. 

From behind me, I feel a rough pull as my scalp barks in pain and my neck snaps back as the tan man grips a handful of my hair. 

“I’m done waiting. I’m getting this bitch started on my cock”

The tattooed guy laughs and shakes his head, not moving to stop his friend from dragging me over towards the building wall.

“You’re always impatient, man” 

My hair is let go and I’m turned around and pushed to my knees. He scoffs. 

“I got three holes waiting for me. Why spend time bullshitting when I can be busy ripping her open with my dick?” 

The way they’re all so nonchalantly talking about what they’re about to do and discussing me like I’m not a human being while cracking jokes and laughing has me feeling so helpless before anything has even happened. They have no remorse for what they’re about to do. They aren’t even acting like wild animals who just can’t help themselves. No, these are men who enjoy bringing pain to another, who relish in the power of the act itself. 

These are men and I am a girl. And isn’t that a tale just as old as the big, bad wolf eating the little, innocent bunny? 

He rips his jeans open and pulls his cock out, cut and veiny, and slaps it on my face. I try to back up only to hit my head off the brick wall behind me. I realize he positioned me against it so I had no space to get relief from this assault. 

He digs in his pocket and flicks a pocket knife open and I freeze. I can feel my eyes go wide. 

“I suggest you don’t let me get too impatient and you open your little mouth. If I can’t use your god given holes…” 

He traces the tip of the knife across my cheek. 

“I’ll have to make a hole to fuck…” 

He brings the knife to right under my eye and stops. 

“Or… maybe I’ll pop this pretty brown eye out and then I’ll have a good size hole to drain my balls into without having to carve one in ya… I’d enjoy all the blood but, like they said, I’m impatient.” 

He shrugs and takes the knife off my face, winking down at me like he said something flirtatious. He pockets the knife and I release the breath I was holding. 

He slaps his dick across my face, but this time, I only scrunch my face in disgust. I try to tell myself it’s the smart move, the one that will lead to my safety. But, it mostly feels like a wave of shame and cowardice washing over me. Regardless, I stay still. 

“Good. Cunt” 

He taps it a few more times, my eyes flinching close with each contact with my face. 

“Now open the fuck up.” 

His tone has no amusement in it now. I close my eyes so I don’t have to see and open my mouth a tiny bit. That’s all he needed before he shoves his cock in between my parted lips and forces them to open wider. 

The taste of sweat fills my tongue. He grips my hair again and thrusts his hips forward till my nose is touching this stomach, his hairs tickling my face. I gag instantly. I’ve never had a porn star gag reflex much to the chagrin of my boyfriend. 

Threats of gouging my eye out forgotten in my panic for more air and to stop the convulsions of my throat as it tried to eject the dick twitching against my uvula, I push against his thighs with both hands but he barely seems to notice. 

Bile comes bubbling up and spits out of my mouth before I can stop it. I feel embarrassed but instantly chastise myself. Why would I feel embarrassed about being gross when they’re raping me? Can I not be pathetic and so insecure for one moment? 

From behind, the tatooed man speaks. 

“We don’t want to watch you get your nut off like some fucking cucks, dude. The chick’s for all of us. She’s got three holes. Fuck her mouth if you want, but let me in that pussy” 

I collapse forward on my hands and knees as air comes into my lungs when I’m released. The tattooed man lays on his back beside me and it forces me to focus again. Why would he lay on the ground? 

He grabs my wrist and tugs me toward him.

“Let’s go, baby. Sink that pussy on my dick” 

He wants me to ride him? I’d never heard of a girl being raped and forced to ride. My mind has been flashing dirty porn videos I’ve seen, trying to imagine what will happen, where a girl is bent over in an alleyway. I’m caught off guard. Why would he want that when it requires him to lay on the ground. I glance around. It’s sort of clean for an alley street, save for a pile of trash bags spilling garbage from holes ripped open by alley cats further down, but still.

Dread pools into my stomach when I feel a hand grip the back of my neck and a man crouch down behind me, his dreads brushing my cheeks as he leans around to whisper in my ear. 

“I can hear your brain trying to think but there’s nothing to decide here. You’re going to be our toy for a few minutes no matter what you try… I suggest being more accommodating. Perhaps it will make me more merciful in the end.” 

In the end? What does he mean by merciful in the end? He doesn’t mean that they don’t plan to let me go, right? But he did say “a few minutes”. Maybe he just means they’ll be more gentle. Gentle would be better. I raise my eyes to the sky and pray silently in my mind for this to be quick and not too painful. 

He pushes me towards the tattooed man who has now pulled his jeans down and taken his member out, slowly stroking it, waiting. 

I can’t do this. I can’t do it. I start shaking my head no and trying to stand up but the hand on the nape of my neck holds me down. I hate him. I hate all of them for how easy this seems to be for them. 

I see stars and feel my head shift to the left as a sting spreads across my cheek. The tan man was now crouching too, in front of me, after slapping me across the face. His eyes are full of annoyance but they’re bright, lit up- excited. 

“Listen, bitch, you’re making us all impatient now. Let’s fucking go.” 

The black man shoves me forward while he grabs on to me to help maneuver me on to the one laying down. Once I’m hovering above him, he grabs my hips and forces me down as he lifts up to push into my pussy. 

The guy looked of average size, though I had been trying not to look, but it felt foreign and bigger than expected inside of me. He sighs and grabs my throat and pull me down so we are chest to chest. Behind me, I feel someone put a hand on my lower back, a smack on my ass cheek that makes me yelp, and then I feel it against my asshole. 

I start bucking forward to attempt to put distance between my ass and the man behind me, but between the two of them holding me down, I’m doing it to no avail. 

I’m panicking and I can feel the tears welling up but I’m trying to not show weakness, as if the tears would make me look weak as if I don’t already, being raped in a dirty alley. Somehow, not crying is the line my dignity wont cross. Too little, too late for dignity, isn’t it? But still, Im blinking back the watergates in the midst of the brink of a panic attack. 

He laughs behind me and lets go of me. The one below me grips me harder as the black man stands and steps to the side of me. 

“You’re right, how rude of me. You do deserve to see the cock that’s about to gape that little hole open.” 

His dark member is looming in my face. He’s right, too. That thing will gape me open. It’s long and thick, thicker than I thought dicks got. 

He goes back around and settles in behind me. 

“Oh, man. This stupid slut got wetter when she saw you. I think she likes you.” 

My eyes widen as I look down at who spoke and see his shit eating grin. I was not getting wetter. He was lying. 

I could feel my ass cheeks being spread and the pressure of something at the entrance of my back hole. My goosebumps raise back up as I brace. I can’t do this. 

He says, 

“Oh, yeah? Does this little cunt like being stretched wide? Looking at your hole, I wouldn’t have guessed.” 

Then he pushes, the pressure and pain building as he tries to force it in. I cry out, and for a few seconds I think it simply won’t fit and I’ll be saved, when it slides in like water breaking through a damn. It feels like it too. I scream but a hand clamps over my mouth to muffle it instantly. 

It feels like I’m being torn open. It burns and aches. They both start moving in synch. If I wasn’t so overloaded with pain and panic, I would have thought about how they must have done this before, to be in tune with each other, the tattooed man’s dick hitting my cervix as he thrusts up at the same time as the black man’s large dick bottoms out in my ass making me feel like my guts might be being shoved out of the way to make room. It’s such an overwhelming feeling of being full, coupled with bursts of pain at every slight movement, that the tears start falling from my eyes rapidly anyway. 

His hand leaves my mouth to better grip my hips again and I beg, 

“Get it out, stop! Stop! Oh my god, god, please, I can’t- I can’t! Plea-“

The words are just tumbling out of my mouth when my hair is yanked back again, this time by the tan man and his cock shoves into my mouth mid sentence. 

“I was beginning to think you went mute! Turns out you can still speak. Except your tongue is better used for me than the English language… fuck…. Yes, that’s right.” 

He pumps into my throat, my eyes bulging, my throat constricting every time he thrusts in. 

He pulls out for a second, rubbing his cock across my face before shoving back in. 

“Thought I’d let you know what your bitch tears taste like too.” 

The lack of proper oxygen from the cock lodged down my throat and the inability to even gain footing over my body enough to move on my accord from the constant onslaught in my pussy and ass, has me feeling helpless in a way I’ve never felt before. 

I stop feeling like a person, like a girl who just wanted to go walk him after a fight with her boyfriend.  I can hear them grunting and moaning around me, their skin slapping against mine, the squelching as my spit drips down my chin and my pussy self lubricates to accommodate the violation of my body. 

I’m having the worst moment of my life. The most vile thing to happen to me and they are moaning in pleasure. It’s disgusting. 

I feel my body give up, I feel my mind try to drift away but it cant. I can’t focus on anything except the burning ache in my stomach, the pressure in my pussy, and the clogged airway of my esophagus as three cocks slide in to my holes, plugging me up from every angle. 

Eventually, over the waves of pain and despair, I hear their grunts get louder and feel their thrusts slow. One them chuckles then and sighs in satisfaction. The other two laugh quietly with him. I’m not sure how long they used my body for, maybe twenty minutes. It’s hard to keep track of time when in pure agony. 

They all pull out at the same time, as if they have given each other a signal to. Maybe they did. My eyes are closed and I never want to open them again. I don’t open them even when I’m pushed off the man I was sitting on. I just curl up on my side and wait for them to go away. 

A few silent seconds tick by before the tattooed one says, 

“Man, that pussy was so good I think I need a round two. What about you boys?” 

The tan one laughs. 

“Nah bro, I think I still got another load I need drained for sure. Except, I don’t feel like hearing her or having to hold her down this time, do you?” He turns to the black man. 

“No… I don’t.” 

I start to cry harder again realizing they’re not done with me. 

I hear footsteps approach. 

“Don’t worry, little girl. You won’t have to feel the pain of it this time. We really need to let loose tonight and have a real toy.” 

I feel him brush hair off my face and behind my ear. The moment of softness feels out of place in the dark alley. 

 “And…well… you’re too alive to be a toy.” 

My eyes shoot open then, my brain realizing a second too late what I was seeing, that silver blade glinting against the moonlight, the knife he had pocketed earlier, when I’m yanked up to sit on my claves and feel a deep pressure against my throat. 

My hands fly up to my neck, blinded by the sharp pain. I can’t breathe. The gurgling from my mouth sounds disconnected and far away in my ears. I don’t feel the warmth and wetness of the blood dripping down my chest. My eyes focus a few feet away and the black man meets my blurry-visioned eyes. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll get three more loads in you. Be useful one last time in your pathetic life. We’re doing you a favor, really. What better way to be six feet in the ground but still leaking cum from all your holes? It’ll even keep you warm in the cold, dark Earth.”  

One of them hauls my body up by the armpits behind me, drags me till we reach the pile of black trash bags, then throws me to the ground. I have no energy or mind to resist anything. 

I barely registered the words, only a faint zap of fear running down my spine, but I can’t think about it. I can’t think about anything. The black asphalt littered with trash flashes in front of my eyes before everything goes dark, before my body hits the ground to join the rest of the things people used and discarded. 

Parts 1 to 8 were posted below in the last 4 weeks

The Tyburn Chronicles

Chapter 9: Charlotte’s final dance

This story is dedicated to Noose Slut Sarah. I was very sad to see you go. You are most welcome to return at anytime.

The morning after Stephen’s hanging, Charlotte stood before Thomas Crowley in the small wooden shed behind the gallows, eyes blazing with purpose.

“Thomas,” she said, voice low and steady, “I believe you have become addicted to our noose games. You may even love me. That is why you will never allow me to go all the way when we are alone. But I need the rope. I need the crowd. I need to hang like Eleanor, like Molly, like Stephen - before thousands of lustful people where everyone can see my cunt drip and spasm as I die.”

Thomas’s face tightened with pain. The broad-shouldered hangman, who had fucked her senseless night after night and cut her down every time, had fallen hopelessly in love with the once-respectable merchant’s wife. The thought of truly losing her tore at him.

Charlotte placed a heavy purse of gold on the bench - more money than he would earn in ten years. “Add me to next week’s mass hanging. Six victims. Make it seven. No one will question one more condemned slut. Do this for me, Thomas. Let me die the way I so desperately desire.”

Thomas stared at the purse, then at her flushed, beautiful face. His hands trembled. Love and duty warred inside him. Finally, with a broken sound, he nodded.

The next six days were the most erotic and lustful in Charlotte’s life. She knew that her appointment with the noose was now inevitable. That knowledge roared through her body, making her feel more alive than ever, and she surrendered completely to a fever of insatiable carnal lust.

She rented a furnished room in the roughest part of Whitechapel, bought cheap, vulgar clothes - a low-cut red dress that barely contained her heavy breasts and a slitted skirt that showed her shapely legs. With her cunt laid bare, she prowled the gaslit streets like a bitch in heat. Pretending to be a prostitute, she picked up all sorts of me from rough labourers and drunken sailors to members of the gentry taking them back to her lodgings where she begged them to fuck her brutally and choke her hard just like the Tyburn Strangler.

She rode their cocks with feral desperation, cumming violently again and again in shattering, squirting orgasms as rough hands tightened around her throat. Each choking climax sharpened her obsession for the real rope that would soon claim her at Tyburn.

At last - the moment she had dreamed of for so long was here. The prison gates opened and the death cart rumbled out of Newgate with seven condemned souls to the delight of the huge crowd. Charlotte sat among them wearing only a thin white shift, wrists bound tightly behind her back, the coarse hemp noose already looped loosely around her neck for the journey.

Beside her in the jolting cart trembled a pretty, wide-eyed 18-year-old servant girl named Bess, condemned for theft and a tousle-haired 20-year-old stable boy named Jem, found guilty of poaching. Both were pale with raw terror, their young bodies visibly quivering as the heavy nooses swayed gently against their throats.

Two hardened rogues lounged defiantly among them, appearing not to care one jot about their fate; they had bribed the Newgate guards with their last coins and were now reeling, gloriously drunk on cheap gin, faces flushed and voices thick with slurred, filthy laughter as they crudely joked about how stiff their cocks would get once the noose bit. Finally came the middle-aged merchant couple, sobbing with raw, broken terror, their faces streaked with tears; wrongly accused of poisoning their master, they clung desperately to each other despite their bound wrists, trembling and whispering frantic prayers as the cart rumbled ever closer to Tyburn.

Charlotte leaned in close between the two terrified youngsters, her full breasts brushing softly against their arms, her voice low, warm and deliciously husky with lust. “Listen to me both of you,” she purred. “There is nothing you can do to prevent your death on the rope… but the rope is not the end. If you surrender to it completely, it will grant you the greatest, most shattering pleasure you will ever know. When the noose bites deep into your throat and your lungs begin to burn, your sweet little cunt and your hard young cock will flood with liquid fire. Don’t fight it. Let the rope ravish you. Enjoy every savage second. Cum shamelessly for the roaring crowd. Cum hard and beautifully for yourselves.”

As the cart rolled slowly through the jeering streets, Charlotte slipped her bound hands as best she could and stroked Bess’s small, firm breasts through the thin shift until the girl’s nipples stiffened and she whimpered. She guided Jem’s bound hands between Bess’s thighs, encouraging the boy to rub the frightened girl’s swelling clit while Charlotte kissed Bess’s neck and whispered filthy promises of the orgasm that waited on the scaffold. Soon both were panting, hips rocking, eyes glazed with shameful arousal. Charlotte herself was dripping down her thighs, the sight of their budding lust making her own cunt throb with joy.

The two hardened rogues, now reeling and loud from cheap gin, watched with leering grins and slurred, filthy laughter, shouting drunken obscenities and crude encouragement as they swayed unsteadily in the cart. The middle-aged couple, by contrast, stared in horrified silence, faces pale and streaked with tears. By the time Tyburn came into view, Bess and Jem were openly moaning, grinding shamelessly against Charlotte’s fingers, their initial terror completely replaced by desperate, hungry need.

At the triple tree Thomas lifted them one by one onto the long platform. The crowd roared at the sight of the seven noosed victims. When he reached Charlotte he paused, eyes moist and soft. She smiled at him with pure, radiant lust and whispered, “Thank you, Thomas. Now let me go. Drop me naked and let the world see me for the noose slut I am.”

Thomas pulled her shift down to her waist, then let it fall completely, leaving her gloriously naked except for the rope. Her firm breasts, wide hips, and glistening cunt were displayed to the thousands. The other victims were stripped to varying degrees, but Charlotte shone - almost naked, radiant, alive with joy.

The seven condemned now stood in a line on the long platform, nooses already snug around every neck, the rough hemp resting against flushed skin. The middle-aged couple sobbed openly, tears streaming down their faces as they clutched each other’s bound hands, whispering frantic prayers.

Bess and Jem stood side by side, still panting from the cart, their young bodies trembling with a shameful mix of terror and lingering arousal. The two rogues tried to look defiant, but their faces had gone pale and their knees shook. Only Charlotte stood tall, nipples stiff, cunt visibly dripping in long, glistening strands down her inner thighs, a dreamy, lust-drunk smile on her lips.

The massive crowd erupted in a deafening roar of approval - thousands of voices howling, men openly stroking their cocks through their breeches, women pressing thighs together or fingering themselves beneath skirts, all eyes locked on the naked beauty who seemed to welcome the rope with open, shameless ecstasy.

The traps opened together.

Seven bodies dropped short distances. Seven ropes snapped tight.
Charlotte’s world exploded in white-hot ecstasy. The hemp crushed her throat with brutal suddenness. Her eyes bulged, her tongue pushed out thick and wet, her face flushed then deepened to a lovely purple. Yet she felt only joy - pure, overwhelming, sexual joy. Thomas was not going to cut her down this time.

Her legs kicked in long, lewd scissor strokes, breasts bouncing wildly, cunt openly spasming and squirting powerful jets that sprayed across the platform while the mob screamed its approval.

Wave after wave of shattering orgasms tore through her. The first crashed over her like lightning, her cunt clenching so violently it felt as if her womb itself were pulsing, thick ropes of clear girl-cum gushing out in forceful, rhythmic spurts that soaked her kicking thighs and splattered the scaffold.

Before the peak even began to fade, a second, far stronger climax slammed into her, drawn out endlessly by the merciless pressure on her throat. Her swollen clit throbbed in time with every strangled heartbeat, her pussy contracting in deep, milking spasms that sent fresh floods of hot juice spraying between her spread legs.

Pleasure and agony fused into one blinding, endless peak - each frantic kick of her legs made the noose bite deeper, each desperate thrust of her hips drove the next orgasm even higher until her vision sparkled white and her mind dissolved into pure, squirting bliss.

A third, devastating wave followed, her cunt convulsing so hard her whole body jerked and shuddered in the rope, piss and cunt juice mingling in shiny rivers down her calves while the crowd roared louder than ever. Still the orgasms kept coming, each one longer, wetter, more consuming, until her final, dying climax rolled through her like a slow, rolling thunder that left her toes curled, her breasts heaving, and her pussy gushing helplessly in one last, endless, squirting flood.

Beside her, young Bess and Jem - inspired by Charlotte’s earlier encouragement - came together in the rope, their bodies thrashing in shared, terrified bliss, the girl’s cunt visibly spasming around the boy’s straining cock as they both squirted and shuddered in the noose. The merchant couple and the two rogues danced their own final, obscene dances. But the crowd’s eyes were on Charlotte. She was the star - lewd, lustful and beautiful, smiling even as saliva ran from her protruding tongue onto her heaving breasts, her cunt still squirting in helpless, dying aftershocks.

Thomas stood on the platform, hands clenched white at his sides, forced to watch the woman he loved strangle and cum and die in front of all of London. Tears cut tracks down his weathered face, but he did not look away.

Charlotte’s final thought, as consciousness faded, was one of perfect, radiant fulfilment. She had never been happier. Her body gave one last long, shuddering kick, then hung limp and still, slowly rotating in the morning sun - a well-hanged, dripping, naked corpse on glorious display for the satisfied crowd.

Thomas left all seven there for the full hour, as custom demanded. He never took his eyes off Charlotte’s beautiful, darkened face and the faint, dreamy smile that remained on her lips even in death.

The Tyburn Chronicles were finally over.

Epilogue

Lost in the vast, roaring sea of spectators, an eighteen-year-old girl named Mary stood pressed against the barrier, eyes wide and unblinking. This was her first hanging, and she could not look away from Charlotte - the naked, radiant woman who danced so joyfully in the noose, legs kicking lewdly, heavy breasts bouncing, cunt visibly spasming and squirting in open, shameless ecstasy as the rope stole her life.

Mary’s breath came short and shallow. A strange, liquid warmth spread across her stiffening nipples and pooled hot and slick between her trembling thighs. She squeezed her legs together, cheeks burning, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar ache that made her clit throb in time with every one of Charlotte’s dying convulsions.

As the crowd began to disperse and Charlotte’s beautiful, purpled corpse rotated slowly on the rope, Mary slipped away on shaky legs, heart pounding. She hurried through the thinning throng toward home, desperate to be alone in her small attic room where she could lock the door, lift her skirts, and finally explore the mysterious, shameful fire now burning inside her.

Perhaps the Tyburn Chronicles were not yet over…

Rani stood in the cold, sterile room, her heart pounding not with fear, but with a deep, thrilling anticipation. She had signed the papers, every single one, her signature a neat, final flourish. She was donating her body—not after a natural death, but now, alive and willing—to the Chrysalis Corporation. Their offer was unique: eternal preservation as a functional statue, a masterpiece of flesh and artistry, where every part of her would serve a purpose forever.

A man in a crisp white coat, Dr. Aris, approached. “Final consent, Miss Rani? The cephalic separation is irreversible.”

She breathed out, a shudder of pure excitement running through her. “Yes. I want it. I want to be your masterpiece. Use all of me.”

They led her to a gleaming table, more like an altar. They strapped her down, not with rough bonds, but with soft, padded restraints that caressed her wrists and ankles. A headrest cradled her skull. She was naked, her skin pebbling in the cool air, her nipples hard peaks, the thatch of dark hair between her legs already damp with her own arousal. This was her ultimate offering.

“The process begins with full sensory enhancement,” Dr. Aris explained, his voice a smooth murmur. “To make the conversion… profound.”

A needle slid into her neck. Not a sedative, but a potent cocktail of neuro-enhancers. The world exploded into hyper-clarity. She could feel every thread of the padding against her skin, hear the hum of each machine as a symphony. And the touch… when a gloved hand brushed her inner thigh, it was like a lightning strike of pleasure. They were awakening every nerve ending, making her exquisitely, unbearably sensitive.

They started with her mouth. A technician, a woman with gentle hands, applied a slick, cooling gel to Rani’s lips. “The oral cavity will be a primary receptacle,” she said softly. She guided a smooth, polished obsidian plug, shaped like a thick, bulbous tongue, between Rani’s lips. Rani sucked on it instinctively, the act of taking it in making her moan around the object. The gel had a faint, sweet taste and a warming property. As it coated her throat, she felt a deep, internal loosening, a readiness. They fitted a delicate framework behind her teeth to keep her jaw permanently, beautifully agape.

Next was her cunt. She was so wet, her juices gleaming on her labia. The same technician parted her folds. The sensation was magnified a thousandfold by the drugs. The touch of the cool air alone made her hips jerk. They inserted a speculum, not cold metal, but warm, polished ivory. It opened her, exposing her pink, glistening interior. She cried out, the feeling of being spread so wide overwhelmingly erotic. They infused her channel with a special polymer resin, warm as blood. It coated every fold, her G-spot, her cervix, hardening not to stone, but to a firm, flesh-like silicone that would never lose its give. A permanent, welcoming tunnel. As it set, they embedded intricate gold filigree along the inner walls, patterns that would tantalize any user.

Her asshole was given the same devout attention. A tapered plug, slick with more of that wondrous gel, pressed against her tight pucker. She pushed back against it, wanting it, and it slid in with a slow, delicious burn that morphed into a full, aching pleasure. The resin filled her rectum, molding to its shape, preserving the intense, gripping tightness she possessed. This too was lined with delicate, stimulating ridges.

They even prepared her lesser holes. Her nostrils were dilated slightly, channels cleaned and treated for potential use. Her ear canals, too, were gently prepared, though the primary focus remained on the triumvirate below.

Throughout it all, Rani was in a state of constant, shuddering climax. The manipulation of her most intimate parts, under the blinding clarity of the drugs, sent endless waves of orgasm crashing through her. Her body was a live wire of ecstasy, being forged into its new form.

Then came the moment of transcendence. Dr. Aris wheeled a shining guillotine-like device over. But it was not crude steel; it was a laser array, silent and precise.

“For the final transformation, the cephalic separation must occur while the neural enhancers are at their peak,” he said, his eyes gleaming with a fanatic’s joy. “You will feel the severance, Rani. And you will experience it as the ultimate pleasure.”

She was lifted, her body thrumming with sensitivity, and positioned kneeling on a pedestal. Her neck was extended over a crystal trough. The laser array hummed to life, its targeting beams painting a hot, red line around the base of her throat.

“Now,” Dr. Aris whispered.

The laser fired. There was no pain. The neuro-enhancers translated the slicing of flesh, the severing of vertebrae, into a cataclysmic, full-body orgasm that dwarfed all previous sensations. It was a white-hot burst of sublime release that started at the point of separation and flooded through every remaining inch of her. She saw a flash of blinding light as her head was freed.

Her consciousness did not end. A secondary system, a web of micro-filaments injected into her brain during the preparations, activated. Her mind was transferred, encapsulated, into the now-severed head. She was aware.

She watched, from her own detached perspective, as her headless body remained kneeling, back arched, breasts pert, cunt and asshole beautifully presented and glistening with their new, functional finishes. The technicians worked swiftly, artfully. They posed the body, the statue. The spine was fused into a graceful, inviting curve. The arms were positioned forward, elbows bent, hands cupped together at waist level, palms up.

Then, they brought her head to her. Her own face, eyes wide with eternal pleasure, lips parted around the dark plug. They placed her head in the waiting hands of her own statue. The fingers, posed just so, curled gently around the temples and under the jaw, holding it securely. It was a helmet, offered by her own form.

The final touches were applied. Her skin was sprayed with a permanent, lifelike finish, a warm alabaster hue with a faint blush at the nipples, lips, and sex. Her hair was styled in an eternal cascade. A plaque was affixed to the pedestal: “Rani. The Offering.”

She was complete. Rani, the statue. Her mind alive in the held head, perpetually experiencing the echoes of that final, rapturous severance. Her body, an eternal monument of utility. Her mouth, a forever waiting orifice. Her cunt and her ass, permanently prepared, open, and adorned, ready for anyone to use, to fill, to find pleasure in. She had donated herself fully, and in doing so, had achieved a state of perpetual, used, and utterly blissful existence.

I know everyone’s into something different, so I’m curious, what’s ur favorite kink, dynamic or Fantasy that you enjoy seeing most on this subreddit? Or what u mainly into (as im into CnC, Rape, Beatings, Torture, Punching, Snuf)

Are you more of Dom or sub...! Interested to see what people here are actually into.....

The elevator’s emergency brake hissed like a dying animal as the metal jaws clamped shut around Emily’s throat, freezing mid-bite. She gasped, her fingers scrambling uselessly against the polished steel, her body bent forward at a brutal angle—knees on the grimy floor, ass raised high, the thin fabric of her sundress riding up to expose the damp lace of her panties stretched tight over her plump cheeks. The doors hadn’t killed her, not yet, but they’d trapped her in a cruel tableau: head pinned, spine arched, every frantic breath making her tits jiggle against the restraint of her bra.

Behind her, Jake’s her own younger brother's breath hitched. He’d been walking close to her since they left home, stealing glances at the way her hips swayed, the way her laughter made her nipples press against her top. Now, with her helpless, his cock strained against his jeans, thick and insistent. He didn’t think, just dropped to his knees, fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties and yanking them down to her thighs. The scent of her arousal hit him like a punch, sweet and musky, her pussy already glistening. “Fuck,” he muttered, palming her ass before spitting directly onto her exposed hole.

Emily whimpered, the vibration of her voice making the elevator doors tremble against her windpipe. She should’ve screamed, should’ve fought, but the heat of his tongue licking a fat stripe up her slit short-circuited her panic. Her toes curled in her sandals as he buried his face between her thighs, his nose grinding against her cunt while his tongue fucked her clit with messy, hungry thrusts. The elevator groaned overhead, gears clinking, warning or encouragement, she couldn’t tell. Her brother’s fingers dug into her hips, holding her steady as she came against his mouth, her juices dripping down his chin.

Jake didn’t waste time. He shoved his jeans down just enough to free his cock, thick and ruddy, the tip already leaking. He lined himself up with her sopping entrance, one hand gripping the base while the other fisted her hair, yanking her head back just enough to make the doors creak ominously. “Try not to move or you might shake the elevator loose,” he growled, and then he was pushing in, the stretch making Emily sob. The elevator shuddered, the mechanism whining like a living thing as he bottomed out, her cunt clenching around him in ragged pulses.

He set a brutal pace from the start, hips slamming into her ass with enough force to make her tits bounce wildly against the trapped confines of her bra. Every thrust forced a choked gasp from Emily, her nails scraping the elevator door as pleasure coiled tighter in her gut. Jake’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips, his breath hot against her back as he fucked her deeper, the wet slap of skin echoing in the confined space. She could feel him throbbing inside her, the telltale twitch of his cock signaling his first climax.

The first spurt hit her cervix like a punch, thick and scalding, and Emily wailed as her own orgasm ripped through her, her walls milking him desperately. Jake groaned, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself into her, his cum flooding her in sticky waves. But he didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. He kept fucking her through it, his cock still hard, still driving into her overstimulated cunt as the elevator’s gears gave a metallic screech.

Emily’s vision blurred at the edges, her body torn between terror and rapture as Jake’s pace turned frenzied. His second load spilled into her just as the elevator lurched, the doors grinding forward with a mechanical scream. She came again, her scream cut short as the steel met the floor above, her brother’s final thrust burying his cock to the hilt as her head toppled from her shoulders outside of the elevator, her last orgasm mingling with the spray of arterial crimson.

Jake’s hips stuttered against her twitching corpse, his fingers digging into the plush flesh of her hips as he rode out his own climax, spurting thick ropes of cum into her dying cunt. The elevator shuddered to a halt, the silence broken only by the wet sound of his softening cock sliding free, glistening with their mingled fluids. Her blood pooled beneath them, warm and slick, as he panted against her still-warm back.

He didn’t move for a long moment, his breath ragged, his hands trembling where they still gripped her. The scent of copper and sex hung heavy in the air, the elevator’s fluorescent light flickering overhead like a dying pulse.

The elevator dinged cheerfully as it reached the next floor, the doors sliding open with a mechanical whir. Jake staggered to his feet, his jeans still tangled around his thighs, his cock slick with her blood and his own spend. He stepped over Emily’s body, his shadow falling across her severed neck as the doors closed behind him, leaving her there, knees bent, ass raised, forever frozen in the moment of her ruin.

Part 1

~~

  Caleb’s heart skipped a beat when Dana ducked her head and buried her face in the dead woman’s pussy. She seemed entirely enthralled by it. Lost in the pleasure of lapping up a corpse’s cum. A soft moan escaped her, which caused a shiver to dance down Caleb’s spine. “Dana. That’s not… It’s not uhm…”

  Micah jumped in. “Juniper would have loved it. And you’re clearly enjoying it, too. Just… let go. It’s okay. You’re safe here. Nobody will judge you. Everything is consensual. It’s okay to be nervous.”

  Caleb wanted to interject, but his dick was getting harder by the second. Micah sighed. She very gently guided Juniper’s face to his crotch. He jumped a little, especially when those soft lips brushed against his shaft. It was surprisingly pleasurable. There was something about how slack her mouth was that made him drip with desire. Micah glanced up, making sure he was not trying to pull away. Then she guided her dead sister’s throat around his cock. He sucked in a gasp. “Fuck!”

  Juniper’s throat was impossibly tight. Caleb could not help but thrust into her. She could not move on her own, of course, but the rolling waves and Micah’s help made her head bob on his dick. He grinded into the strange, lukewarm body. Her tongue was thick and rough against the base of him. Nothing was stopping Caleb from driving his full shaft inside. Nothing to keep him from railing her throat as hard as he possibly could. It was tight. Not to mention that it was softer than any typical head, because the slack flesh was not tensing up to try to breathe. Caleb had never felt anything so blissful. Some sick part of him loved it. That same part made it impossible for him to slow down.

  “F-Fuck! I– I’m cumming!” Caleb was shocked by himself. He was more embarrassed by how fast he was blowing his load than by the fact that he was doing it in a corpse. “I’m cumming in a dead girl! Oh, fuck!”

  Caleb slammed himself inside as fast as his hips could manage. Water gushed down the woman’s throat with every wave of orgasm. It, plus the softness of her slack flesh, was mind-bending. He gripped her head and held it all the way down to the hilt. Caleb had used enough force to tug her away from Dana, who whined. There was that thrill. The disgust and horror turned into something more devilish. Pure, unadulterated pleasure had Caleb pumping shots of cum inside until his trembling body forced him to flop back in his seat.

  “Good job,” Linda hummed. She rubbed her son’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you.”

  Caleb covered his face with his hands. He was still half-mast even after he had cum so hard. “I can’t believe I came in a dead girl. I’m disgusting. Holy shit.”

  “Shhh. It’s not disgusting. It’s making love. You’re giving Juniper’s death purpose.” Linda spoke as softly as the days when she cradled her children after a nightmare or nursed a scrape on their knee. She ran her fingers through his hair. “She wanted this. You wanted it to. Everybody here consented.”

  Caleb nodded. He was just as shell-shocked as his sister, although he was frozen in place, and Dana was slowly losing herself to the desire of it all. Linda turned to Micah. The still-living twin tilted her head. “Ready?”

  “I think they are.”

  Dana poked her head up. Her face was stained with Juniper’s cum, and her hair was soaked, leaving it hanging in strands over her cheeks. “Are we– Is she killing you too?” She had tried so hard not to sound excited and failed entirely.

  “No! No, we can’t just be killing willy-nilly!” Caleb sputtered.

  Micah sighed. She leaned back against the wall of the tub. “Caleb, seeing all of this… It’s a dream for me. It’s exactly what I’ve always wanted, and I won’t lie: I’m jealous. My sister got to do it first.” She chuckled. As she spoke, she guided her sister’s corpse free. “You liked it too. Fuck, you came in like three thrusts.--”

  “It was not that bad!” Caleb said. His face was scarlet.

  “Anyway, the point stands. I saw her do it. I felt her die. And if I can reach that orgasm? Fuck– Please, let me. Besides, your mom wants this too. She wants to die in a way that actually feels good. Not tortured in a medical bed. Think of it as practice so that you can make hers the best death there’s ever been.”

  Caleb faltered. Linda rubbed his back. “Please, for me? I want to see you cum while you kill this wonderful woman.”

  Dana nodded. She took a shaky breath. “I want to try.”

  Linda was relieved when Caleb finally nodded. He rubbed his face. “Alright. I admit, it felt… great. And I’m willing to try again. For you guys.”

  “Thank you.” Linda kissed her son’s cheek.

  Micah took the lead in short order. She swam over and straddled Caleb’s hips. Her pussy rubbed against his shaft. It took very little to turn the poor bastard as hard as steel once again. Micah positioned herself over it. Caleb gently grabbed her hips and helped guide her down his girth. She gasped. Her hips rolled, taking inch after inch of meaty cock. From Caleb’s end, it was blissful. Micah’s pussy tightened around him. She was burning hot from her desire. Precum mixed with the water. Every little twitch made him whine and whimper.

  After a few times bouncing on Caleb’s cock, Micah gestured for Dana. The sister, her excitement poorly hidden behind stiff movements, squeezed over. She grabbed Dana and tugged her close. The way she kissed was overpowering. Dominating. Her tongue darted in and took control. She nipped and moaned into her lover’s mouth. Dana hesitated at first. She knew she should not have loved it as much as she did, but every little touch turned her on more. The sister reached up. Her hand hovered over Micah’s chest until the twin pressed it against herself. That was invitation enough for Dana to grope her with reckless abandon. She squeezed her soft tits and rolled her nipples between her fingers.

  The three of them stayed in their bliss for a few moments longer before Micah broke the kiss. “I’m ready. Push me down slowly,” Micah guided Caleb’s hand to her chest. “And Dana? If you wouldn’t mind, I’d love to eat you out. I’m pretty good at it. I could probably make you cum before I go.”

  Dana perked up and nodded. Caleb took a shaky breath, then managed the same. He very gently pushed the twin under, wanting to give her a chance to back out. A chance she never took. Micah let herself disappear under the rippling waves. Her pussy tightened with excitement, or perhaps fear. It felt good regardless. Caleb instinctively bucked. He forced himself to slow down. Dana reached out. She took Caleb’s hand as she positioned herself over Micah’s face. Her gaze locked with her brother’s. “We can do this. For Mom.”

  “For Mom.”

  But it was not fully for their mother. Not really. Caleb would never admit it, but he was getting more and more turned on by the second. He kept his pace slow. Too fast and he’d knock the air out of the twin. It was best to try to get her to cum before she died. He could feel her body tensing. Squeezing. It was not just trying to milk him for cum. It was also trying to hold in what little oxygen she had.

  Micah was not wrong. She was an expert at eating pussy. Perhaps she had practiced with her sister. Her tongue burrowed deep into Dana’s snatch. Her upper lip pressed and rolled against her clith. Dana melted. She gripped the twin’s chest. It was much more her influence keeping Micah under than her brother’s. Dana grinded against the drowning woman, getting closer and closer to cumming with every lick.

  It was getting harder for Caleb to hold back. The less air in Micah’s chest, the tighter she squeezed. Especially as she buried her face deeper inside Dana. The sister wrapped her legs around her head. She screamed with pleasure, “Caleb! I’m cumming!”

  Dana twitched. She tugged at the twin and slammed her hips down on her face. Her eyes rolled. Dana sucked in shaky breaths as her cum clouded the pool. She bucked. Every time she pulled, it made Micah’s entire body roll, which made the suffocating twin pleasure Caleb more. Dana sat there, trembling and moaning, as her orgasm turned her into a blissful puddle.

  When it was over, Dana rolled off of Micah. She leaned heavily on the side of the pool. “That was… intense…” The poor girl was shaking all over.

  Seeing his sister cum and hearing her scream his name was enough to push Caleb faster. As he pounded the suffocating woman, Dana looked around. She spotted Juniper’s body being molested by her mother. It took a bit of effort to pry her from Linda’s desperate fingers. Dana dragged the corpse over and positioned it so that Micah was staring up into her dead sister’s face. The suffocating twin cupped Juniper’s cheek. She pulled her closer. Her legs wrapped around Caleb. Her chest and pussy convulsed, desperate to try to suck in air.

  Dana moaned. She dove under the water and squeezed under Micah’s body. It was tight, but she had enough room to get comfortable. Hell, she even had enough room to grind against the dying woman. One hand snaked around and slid over her clit. She could feel the warm pulsing of her brother’s cock as it pounded inside. Her free hand’s fingers trailed over Micah’s body. They traced her belly and up her tits. There were goosebumps. Just as Micah opened her mouth to suck in water, Dana darted in for a kiss. She donated some of her air to help the woman last just a few seconds longer.

  Caleb grabbed the dying woman’s hips. He slammed as deep inside as he could manage, spurred on by feeling his sister’s body roll mere inches from his legs. Dana was little better. Her mind was clouded with bliss. Micah’s eyes glazed over. Her mouth fell open, and a large bubble escaped. She had run out of air. Her body was still for a moment. Then the crash of instinctive panic came.

  The thrashing was not nearly as bad as it could have been. Micah had done this before, after all, and she loved it. Her hips still bucked. Still thrashed. Dana had to wrap an arm around her to keep her down, although it was truthfully so that she could more easily grind against the dying woman. Caleb’s eyes rolled back. Micah’s pussy clamped down hard as her body fought for life. Every little twitch or shiver sent shocks of ecstasy over him. Her pussy heated up as she fought harder and harder. Even as her jaw went slack and her mind went white, her body kept thrusting. Pounding. Desperately taking more and more dick until all three were brought over the edge. Dana’s tits were squished against her back. They were soft, though she could feel her hard nipples brushing against her. 

  When Micah’s orgasm came, it came hard. Her pussy was a vice as every muscle in her body tightened. Her eyes rolled back. They were glazed over. Micah’s fingers dug into Juniper’s face. The last thing she saw as her mind-bending orgasm overwhelmed her and death knocked at her door was the blissful face of her sister’s corpse. Her mouth went slack. A few more bubbles escaped her as her belly tightened and her hips convulsed. Every wave of orgasm made her body clamp down tighter. She milked Caleb for every drop of his cum. Each rope of spunk was hot. It heated her insides. The sensation was much akin to a satisfying bowl of soup warming her belly, with the bonus of pure euphoria turning her brain to mush.

  Dana twitched and trembled. She could feel the dying woman’s heartbeat fade. It was strange. Exciting. Dana was filled with a strange sort of pleasure at the realization that she had helped end someone’s life. It made her cunt wet, though it was slicked away by the pool. The rattle of her failing lungs shook him. When she slipped away, her legs stiffened. They kicked once. Twice. Then they fell limp, sliding away to float on the water. 

  Dana and Caleb slumped. They relaxed into their post-nut pleasure. The sister stayed under, floating limply under the corpses. She only came up for breath when her chest had a pang of pain. When she surfaced, she sucked in air. “Holy shit.”

  “That was amazing…” Caleb whispered. He popped Micah’s still twitching body free and spun her around. A wave of cum oozed from her pussy. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

  Caleb slid Micah’s mouth over his cock. Her tongue twitched, and her body squirmed as the last of its energy faded away. Dana pushed to her feet. She turned to her mother. “So, was it hot watching your kids fuck a woman to death? Is that what you wanted? To bring us here and get us to fuck you like her?”

  Before Linda could muster a response, Dana strode over and tugged her into a kiss. She leaned into it. The kiss was short. That did not make it any less loving. Especially when they heard Caleb moan and drop another quick, little load down the corpse’s throat. Linda pulled away with a small giggle and whispered, “He’s just like his father.”

  “I resent that,” Caleb groaned. He continued to grope and hump the corpse.

  Both women giggled. They continued to make out as Dana used her foot to guide Juniper’s corpse over. She slid it between their legs so that they could grind on her. Linda pressed her hips against her nose. Dana shifted between her legs and rolled against her pussy.

  Linda gasped out a moan as she broke the kiss. She cupped Dana’s face. “Tell me honestly… What do you think?”

  “It’s weird. Sort of scary.” Dana said with a giggle. “But in a good way? I don’t know how to explain it. If you had told me I’d be grinding on a dead woman yesterday, I would have called you insane.”

  Caleb interrupted with a shaky moan. “Same. It’s sort of… batshit insane.”

  “Then, I want to ask… Could you two snuff me next?”

  A tense silence fell over the pool. Caleb looked away. He fell still. Dana sighed. Her gaze softened as she leaned forward and hugged her mother. “That’s a hard question to ask, y’know. We love you. A lot. But… Sometimes love means sacrifice. It’s like putting down a dying dog.”

  Linda giggled. “So I’m a dog now,” She said as she stroked her daughter’s hair.

  “You know what I mean.”

  Caleb pulled the twin off his dick. He stood on shaky legs. “I don’t know if I can do that. I don’t know if I’m ready yet.”

  Linda patted the seat beside her. Caleb sat and squeaked a little when she pulled him into a side hug. “It’s going to be alright. I’m going to pass one way or another. You’ve already done amazing coming this far for me, and I’d never force you. But I’d love to have this one last intimate moment with you before it’s too late. If I’m going to go, I want it to be in the loving arms of my family.”

  Caleb teared up and buried his head in her shoulder. “I love you.”

  “I love you too. So I ask again. Please, snuff me?”

  “Alright, mom.”

~~

  The villa’s bedroom was modern, minimalist, and beautiful. Its bed was truly massive. Its comforter was the only pop of color: a sky blue. Several windows looked out at the ocean. The lighting was low. It was controllable with a remote on the bedside table. Dana looked around at it all with a bit of envy. She wished her house were so clean. “You don’t want to drown, too?”

  “No… That feels like I would be taking away from their deaths.” Linda sucked in a shaky breath. She plopped onto the bed. “Besides, I want it to be special.”

  Caleb grunted. He was out of breath from carrying the twins’ corpses. Linda gestured to a chair that faced the bed. Caleb dropped them unceremoniously into it. Dana took the chance to reposition them to make it look like they were watching. He shuddered. “Do we have to? That’s kinda creepy.”

  “But it’s hot,” Dana hissed.

  “We can agree to disagree,” Caleb muttered, his heart not in the words.

  As the two bickered, Linda patted the bed. “You two come sit. I’ll be back. I need to fetch something.”

  The siblings did as instructed. They fell quiet. Linda scampered out of the room. She still had so much energy, but there were still a few little signs. The way she stumbled near the door frame. The way she dragged her feet. Dana’s stomach squirmed. She took Caleb’s hand. “It’ll be alright. We’re doing her a favor.”

  Linda rushed back in. She held what appeared to be a leather choker. The front had a small, red light bulb. Linda sat on the bed and set it beside her. “This is a special choker. It tightens when I cum. When it’s tight enough, it will choke me to death. I want you two to keep going when I suffocate. Use me as much as you’d like. It would make my dying feel really special.”

  Dana’s gaze softened. She trailed her fingers over the choker, then put her hand on Linda’s leg. “Alright, Mom. I guess this is goodbye.”

  It was Caleb who suddenly tugged them both into a group hug. He burrowed his face into his mother’s shoulder. There were no tears. The siblings had run out of those a long time ago. Only the quiet warmth of family.

  “I’m proud of you both.” Linda’s voice broke a bit. “You’ve grown into such sweet, loving people. It’s a relief to know that you’re strong. That you’ll be okay and have each other when I’m gone. I know things will be scary. You can handle them. When you have families of your own, remember to support each other.”

  Dana nodded. “Thank you for giving us the most amazing life. I know how hard you fought to keep a roof over our head.”

  “I love you,” Caleb muttered.

  Linda squeezed them both. “I love you too.”

  The three sat together a moment longer, then Linda cupped Dana’s cheek. She pulled her daughter into a gentle kiss. Both moaned into each other. Dana leaned in. She pressed her lips deep into her mother’s. When she broke it, Linda pressed her forehead against Dana’s.

  “You’re a good kisser, Mom.”

  Linda giggled. She pet Dana’s head, then turned to Caleb. The kiss she planted on his lips came before he could stop her. He was frozen at first. Then he could not help but lean in. Caleb tentatively pressed his tongue between Linda’s lips. She let him breach. He whined, earning a giggle from his sister. Caleb blushed. He broke the kiss. “Fuck you!”

  “You make cute noises!” Dana took the opportunity to dive in and snatch a deep kiss of her own.

  Linda pushed into Dana’s mouth. Their tongues danced. The taste was exhilarating. That strange shock of just how wrong their incest was… It drove Dana insane. She straddled her mother’s lap and squeezed her eyes shut. Her fingers brushed over Linda’s tits. Caleb huffed. “Hey! That’s not fair!”

  “Wah, wah, wah!” Dana mocked, “Wh— Hey!”

  In Dana’s brief moment of distraction, Caleb swooped in and snatched the kiss. He gently pushed his mother back on the bed as they made out. His chest pressed against her tits. Caleb moaned as Linda nipped his lips and sucked on his tongue. He let his hands roam over her body. There were those soft features he was so familiar with. Hips he used to hug innocently. Tits he groped now with the same hunger he used to when he was being raised.

  As her brother made out with her mother, Dana snatched up the collar. “You’re an ass.”

  Caleb flipped his sister off as he continued to smooch his mom. He squeezed Linda’s rump. His kissing was hungry. The mother’s was little better. Linda’s hips rolled against Caleb’s knee. Dana squeezed in when the two came up for air. She hooked the choker around Linda’s throat. It was just a little loose. Plenty of space to breathe, for now. Caleb wiped his mouth. “We’ll make this as good as we can.”

  “Thank you.”

  Dana choked up. She could not bring herself to speak, so she slid her fingers down over Linda’s cunt. The mother shivered. Her hips pressed up into her digits. Linda was wet as a river. Dana could feel her pleasure dripping between her fingers. It clung to her as she slid into her mother’s pussy.

  Caleb could not help but stare. He jerked himself slowly. Inch by inch, his cock hardened. Caleb bit his lip. “Fuck, you two are hot.”

  “You know what would make it hotter?” Dana cooed.

  Before Caleb could respond, Dana used her free hand to tug her brother into a kiss. There was far less hesitation on his end. They wrapped their tongues around each other. Dug in and tasted each other as if their lives depended on it. Ironic, given their mother was the one who would die. Caleb was moaning louder. He grabbed Dana’s hips and held her tight. His breath hitched when she slipped her fingers around his cock. Caleb pulled back. “H-Hold on, are you sure you want to do that?”

  Dana hesitated. She looked away. “I was sort of going on instinct.”

  “I can decide it for you both. Caleb, lie down.” Linda crawled on top of her son when he followed her direction. She straddled his hips and pressed her clit against his cock. “Now, Dana, I want you to ride his face.”

  Dana’s eyes widened, and her mouth gaped. Caleb sputtered. His face much resembled a tomato. Dana shook her head. “I can’t do that if he doesn’t want it.”

  “I uhm… Wouldn’t mind it.” Caleb looked away.

  There was an awkward moment where Dana searched her brother’s face for any signs of lying. Satisfied that he was feeling just as perverted as she was, she crawled over and did as her mother asked. The position was difficult. She hovered just above him, not wanting to suffocate him. It was only as he tugged her down on his face that Dana let out a howl of pleasure. She grinded on his chin while he desperately lapped at her lower lips. Dana could feel the wet heat of his tongue pushing across her needy folds. It was thick. Doubly so when he pushed the tip against her dripping hole.

  “I think he deserves a reward for being such a good boy,” Linda said.

  Dana nodded. She held up Caleb’s cock as Linda slid down onto it. The mom’s moan shook the windows. Her eyes rolled back as she bounced on his meat. It was so wide. So thick. He pressed against her G-spot with every inch. Caleb fell in time with her bouncing. His tongue drove into his sister whenever his cock pierced his mother.

  Linda crumpled forward. She rode her son’s cock and moaned at its throbbing. His heartbeat could be felt throughout its length. Dana held her mother up. She planted a kiss on her lips, then another. A third. Before long, they were making out on top of their incestuous lover’s shaking body. Linda moaned at the taste of Caleb’s slobber on her daughter’s tongue. It was sort of musky, with the sweet hints of one of the resort’s fruit smoothies. Linda could not help but melt into it. She groped Dana’s tits as Caleb drove deeper and deeper. He hit spots her husband could never reach.

  It came before any of them realized what was happening. A mind-shattering orgasm that had them all screaming with pleasure. Wave after wave of cum gushed out of all three. Hot ropes of spunk stewed within Linda. They seemed to scorch any thoughts out of her spinning head. Caleb’s face was soaked. He lapped it up with animalistic enthusiasm. His fingers dug into Dana’s legs. She could feel the slick, slimy pleasure of him digging inside for more. When she managed to roll off of him, still twitching with ecstasy, she was left with a soaked cunt. Caleb’s hips instinctively thrusted when he heard a whir coming from the choker. It tightened around his mother’s neck, just tight enough to be uncomfortable. The sensation made her pussy squeeze in turn. She milked several more shots of cum out of her son.

  All three members of the family struggled for breath. Linda crumpled back onto the bed. Her pussy drooled with sperm. It winked, still desperate to be filled with more. Cum dripped onto the bed. She sighed. “Fuck, you’re even better than your father.”

  “Gross,” Dana giggled. “Come on, Mom. Don’t talk about your sex life. That’s weeeird.”

  The joke earned laughter from all involved. Linda wrapped an arm around her daughter and pulled her onto her. “Let me rest for a bit. I want to see how cute you look like this.”

  It was Dana’s turn to blush. She leaned in to kiss her mother. Her breath caught when Linda snaked her fingers under and used them to spread her cunt. Caleb understood. All he needed was a glance of approval from his mother. While he moved into position, the two women kept making out. He pressed his member against his sister’s aching hole. “I love you.”

  Dana could only moan as he drilled inside. Things moved quickly. Caleb was already too far gone to keep things slow. He pounded his sister’s cunt mindlessly. All the while, Linda rubbed her daughter’s clit. The siblings bucked into each other. Their mother could feel them gyrating. Rolling. She could feel the way Dana tensed up as she felt her slam her hips back.

  The siblings screamed out their pleasure. It took only a handful of thrusts for Caleb to cum again. Hard. He pumped his sister’s pussy full of thick batter. She could feel it stuffing her. Stretching her. She moaned into her mother’s mouth.

  Cum dripped from Dana’s pussy as Caleb pulled free. It oozed onto Linda’s pussy in thick beads. She grinned. “See? Adorable.”

  Dana could only whine. She crumpled onto her mother, and Caleb crumpled onto her. They basked in orgasmic bliss. Cum puddled in and around Linda’s pussy. The mother hugged them close, then patted their backs. They rolled free. Caleb stumbled to his feet. “I didn’t expect this to feel so fucking good.”

  Linda sucked in a breath. She smiled. “It’s not over yet.”

  Caleb blushed as he nodded. Linda spun around. She hung her head off the bed. Her son stepped up and patted his dick on her cheek. “Careful. I might choke you out with this before the collar does.”

  The mom stuck her tongue out, then pulled Caleb’s cock into her mouth. He whimpered as his hips bucked. Hard. Caleb burrowed himself deep enough to slam into the back of her throat. She gurgled. Her tongue danced along his shaft as he drove inside. It pressed against her throat, making it bulge. Thick beads of precum tasted of salt. They shot directly down her esophagus.

  Dana was not to be left out. She grabbed her mother’s legs and buried herself in her cunt. Her tongue trailed up inside. Dana lapped up her brother’s cum from her mother’s pussy. It was hot. Salty. She moaned as she kept coming back for more. Linda rolled against her nose. Cum flecked her face.

  Linda lost all chance for breath when Caleb bottomed out in her throat. She bucked. The lack of oxygen to her brain shot up her sensitivity. The smallest touch sent shots of ecstasy to her brain. Linda could smell the musky sweat on Caleb’s crotch. Her throat ached as she took more and more of his cock. Her daughter’s lips wrapped around her clit. She could feel their soft touch. The way Dana sucked and danced her tongue over the tip of it.

  The distinctive whir of the choker came almost before the siblings realized their mother was cumming. Linda clamped down on her daughter’s tongue. She screamed out the last of her air around her son’s cock. Her vision blurred at the edges. Caleb could feel the choker tightening. His hips bucked into the sensation. It took all of his self-control not to cum again.

  Caleb pulled his slobber-soaked dick free. Linda gasped for air. The choker had tightened enough to partially cut off her air supply. Her legs kicked and twitched as she instinctively grabbed at it. A sloppy smile played on her lips.

  Dana took charge. She gestured for Caleb to help her as she strode over to the chair. It was awkward carrying limp corpses onto the bed. Less so when she managed to put them in place against the pillows. Dana stacked them together, then lay back against them as if they were part of the bedding. She tugged her mother onto her lap with Caleb’s help. “There we go. Keep going a little longer, Mom. We’ll get one last deathgasm out of you yet.”

  Caleb joined the fray. He pressed his dick against his mother’s dripping cunt. She could do little more than whine, stuck at her children’s mercy. Her hips rolled against Caleb. Linda swallowed up his cock with her desperate pussy. Dana’s rock-hard nipples pressed against her back. Her daughter’s subtle twitching only drove her into more intense pleasure. Dana groped her tits. She rolled them between her fingers, letting the plump flesh flow. Dana planted kiss after fluttering kiss along her shoulders. Up her neck. Down her back. Each more desperate than the last.

  Linda reached up. She took one of Dana’s hands and squeezed it. Her eyes rolled back. Linda kept desperately switching between which of her children to grind against. Her mouth fell open as she wheezed for air. They barely heard her when she managed to choke out, “Close– Getting close! I love y–”

  The words were cut off when the choker whirred one final time. Linda gurgled around it. It was only just loose enough not to entirely crush her throat. No air could get past. She came with a force unlike any other. Her hips slammed into Caleb’s. He could feel her tighten up with each useless suck for breath. His teeth gritted. Linda’s whole body tensed. The siblings ramped up the stimulation, increasing the animalistic intensity of her orgasm. Dana rubbed her tits against Linda’s back. She squeezed her mother’s hand. When she felt her mother jerk, she tugged her into a deep, loving kiss.

  Dana plunged her tongue inside. She took over her mother’s mouth. Commanded her pleasure as she came. Caleb ripped into Linda’s cunt like a dog in heat. He pounded her with every ounce of strength he could muster, spurred on by the way her cock desperately sucked him in.

  Linda let herself melt away in the pleasure. All rational thought was replaced with erotic ecstasy. She came like a tsunami. Her mind went white as her whole body seized, chewing up the last of her dying energy. Under her was the warmth of her daughter, propped up against two corpses of women who had given themselves to the family. Caleb came, too. He dumped his heaviest load yet. Thick, hot, and bubbling with life. Ironic, given how her body slumped. Linda could not move. All she knew was that the world was fading, and that she had never been happier. She squeezed Dana’s hand one last time before her fingers slipped free.

  Caleb fell still on top of the pile, save for small twitches as he shot more cum into his mother. He could feel her last heartbeats in her pussy. It went slack around him as she faded away. Tears bubbled at the corners of his eyes. Dana was silent. She leaned back against the corpse pile and let out a sigh. There was a weight that had been lifted off her shoulders then. At least her mother had died happy.

  Dana squeezed free of the pile, only to roll back on top of it. She wrapped Linda’s arms over her shoulders like she used to be held as a kid. Linda was still warm enough for it to be comforting. “Kiss me.” She whispered.

  Caleb nodded. He wiped away his tears and plunged his tongue down his sister’s throat. Dana spread her legs. She exposed her pussy, and Caleb was more than happy to take her up on the offer. His still-hard dick stuffed her full. It was drenched in the cum he had deposited in his mother.

  The two fucked like animals. It was the only way to combat the suffocating whirlpool of emotions that threatened to drown them both. Tears streamed down his face as Caleb made out with Dana. He cried in silence. His moans were soft and small. Caleb choked a bit on his tears and let Dana take the lead. She brushed them away with her thumb. Her tongue traced the insides of his mouth. He could taste their mother on her lips.

  When Caleb came, it was cataclysmic. The two of them turned into howling beasts. Their bodies bucked in sync. Wave after wave of cum flooded Dana’s insides. She could feel his throbbing as it filled her belly. It felt as though, for just one blissful moment, they were one creature. One animal lost in pure bliss. Their desperate thrusting made the whole bed rock and tremble.

  As quickly as it came, it was over. Caleb rolled to the side. Dana held onto her mother for a moment longer. There was a cold finality to it. A realization that she could never go to Linda for advice again. Could never get that recipe she always loved or get a hug from the woman who raised her. She rolled to the other side of Linda, but held her hand out for her brother. Caleb took it. He squeezed it reassuringly.

  “We did good,” Dana spoke confidently, even though it hurt.

  “This was insane. I feel…” Caleb broke into a small laugh. “I feel like I just spent the day walking through a dream.”

  “But we did it. It’s over. And I hate to admit it, but uh… I think I’m an incestuous necrophiliac. Maybe I’ll try dying while cumming next!”

  Caleb stiffened. “Don’t you dare. I’ll help you cum and die when we're old, but I need you. I need you here with me. Promise me you’ll stay for a while.”

  Dana’s gaze softened. She shut her eyes and nuzzled into Linda. “I promise.”

  “Thank you…” Caleb sighed. He cuddled into his mother’s warmth, too. “I love you more than anyone or anything in the world. Never forget that.”

  “I love you too.”

  Then the room fell still. Two siblings snuggled up against their mother’s cum-stuffed corpse. Both were well aware of just how absurd they felt.

"Jesus fuck, Lena," Jake hissed through clenched teeth, his knuckles bone-white on the steering wheel as his sister arched into a obscenely deep backbend in the passenger seat, the strained fabric of her leotard doing nothing to hide the slick pink slit between her thighs. The scent of her, gymnast sweat and something unbearably sweet, flooded the car, thick enough to choke on. Her freckled chest heaved with each breath, nipples pebbled against the thin material, and Jake couldn't remember which turn he'd missed three exits back when her knee brushed his thigh as she adjusted her pose.

Rain hammered the windshield in erratic bursts, the wipers useless against the storm outside the car. Lena's laughter was too bright, too knowing, as she hooked a finger under the high-cut crotch of her leotard, flashing him a glimpse of bare, waxed skin. "Relax, big brother," she purred, stretching her toned arms overhead with a sigh that made his cock twitch painfully against his jeans. "It's just stretching." The oncoming headlights caught the wet gleam between her legs as she spread them wider, and Jake felt something in his chest snap like a rotten branch.

He didn't signal when he jerked the wheel onto the gravel road, didn't speak when Lena yelped and grabbed the dashboard for balance. The car fishtailed as he accelerated into the pitch-black farmland, cornstalks whipping against the doors like skeletal fingers. Lena's breathing turned shallow, he could hear it over the engine, could smell the shift in her sweat from teasing to fear. "Jake?" Her voice wavered exactly how he'd imagined it would, that first time he'd stolen her panties from the laundry.

The knife was already in his lap when he killed the engine, the blade cold against his thigh as he turned to watch Lena's throat work around a swallow. Her blue eyes went wide as saucers when his zipper hissed open, but she didn't scream. Not yet. Jake palmed himself through his boxers, groaning at the sticky heat of his own arousal, and wondered if she'd taste like salt or fear when he shoved himself between those plush lips.

Her whimper when he fisted her hair was sweeter than he'd dreamed, the wet smack of her knees hitting the floorboard lost beneath the thunder. Lena's mouth opened on instinct, good girl, and Jake didn't bother with preamble, just dragged her forward until her nose pressed into his pelvis and her throat convulsed around him. Tears streaked down her freckles as she gagged, but her tongue flicked obediently along his shaft, her spit-slick lips stretched obscenely wide. He could feel her heartbeat in the pulse of her throat.

The first spasm of her climax hit when he wrenched her leotard down to her waist, her tits bouncing free as he liked his fingers and thrust them between her pussy lips. Lena's scream muffled around his cock, her body arching into the pain like the gymnast she was, and Jake came so hard his vision whited out. Hot ropes painted her throat as her cunt fluttered around his fingers, her own orgasm dripping down her thighs onto the floor mat. She was still shuddering when he dragged her out of the car and flipped her onto the hood chest down, the metal denting under her weight.

Rain slid between her asscheeks down through her lower lips, as Jake lined himself up again, her puffy little cunt glistening with promise. He placed the knife to her throat so she would arch back into him. The knife's edge kissed her jugular when he sheathed himself to the hilt, her broken sobs syncing with each brutal thrust. Jake wondered if the neighbors would hear her gurgle when he sliced deep on his final stroke, if they'd mistake the wet slap of flesh for the storm. His sister's back arched one last time, perfect form, as his cum flooded her womb, with a hard slice her dragged the knife across his little sister's throat. Her blood soaked the cornfields in spurts.

Her knees buckled against the bumper when he hauled her up by the hair, her tits swaying with each ragged breath. Jake pressed two fingers into her ruined cunt, scooping out his own spend to smear across her tongue. Lena's eyelashes fluttered like dying moths as she tried to swallowed obediently, her gag reflex long since sliced out of her. The grave yawned open beside them, freshly turned earth smelling of worms and gasoline.

He pressed into her from behind again, her cunt so loose now it barely gripped him, just a hot wet sleeve for his cock to piston through. Lena's head lolled forward, her curls tangling in the windshield wipers as he came inside her for the third time, his balls slapping against her clit with every spurt. She didn't cum this time, just trembled like a gutted doe when he stabbed the knife and twisted it between her ribs.

Jake came a fourth time watching the life leave her eyes, his palm pressed over her mouth as his hips stuttered against her cooling body. The knife was still buried in her lung when he jerked off onto her slack face, his cum mixing with the raindrops on her freckles. He'd have to wipe down the windshield before driving home. Ther blood painted it hardly removed by the rain.

Her toes twitched in the dirt like she was still pointing them on the balance beam, those thick thighs he'd dreamed about for years now splayed obscenely wide. Jake dragged two fingers through the mess between her legs, blood and cum and that slick gymnast arousal, before shoving them into her mouth one last time. Her teeth clacked against his knuckles like a broken marionette.

The shovel bit into wet earth with a rhythm almost as satisfying as Lena's choked moans had been. Jake paused to adjust himself in his jeans, still half-hard, still wanting, as he tossed another clod of dirt onto her bare stomach. Her tits were already turning blue beneath the mud.

Somewhere beyond the cornfield, a dog barked. Jake checked his watch, still time to stop at the car wash before Mom got home. He wiped his palms on Lena's discarded leotard, the fabric still warm from her body, and wondered if her teammates would miss her flexibility at tomorrow's meet.

"Looks like its a full moon tonight," Elise teased, her breath fogging the lens of the handheld camera as she adjusted the focus, the red recording light cutting through the park's darkness like a fresh wound. In front of her, a redheaded goth girl, thighs pressed into cold wrought iron, ass arched in the air, breasts hanging under her shirt, wrists already cuffed to the bench. She laughed too loudly, her freckled ass jiggling with the motion, the ruined scraps of her panties dangling from one ankle like a surrender flag. The joke hadn't been funny ten minutes ago, but now, with the humid air clinging to their skin and the distant shouts of drunk college students echoing, it felt inevitable.

"Rules are simple, well sit in the bushes and record your cunt," Elise explained, "If you last ten minutes without using the safe word then you win a five grand we all paid in on."

The first drizzle of rain hit the small of her back just as the scissors snipped through the last thread of fabric, the sound obscenely crisp. She was fully exposed to the world now. "Fuck, your pussy's already glistening," one of her friends murmured, not unkindly, as the girl arched instinctively, her shaved lips parting under the scrutiny. The camera panned lower, catching the way her inner thighs trembled, not from fear, but from the unspoken thrill of exposure, the way her friends' laughter curled around her like smoke.

No one noticed the rustling in the rhododendrons until the bench creaked under new weight, a calloused palm spreading her cheeks wider than the night air ever could. The girl's gasp was half-surprise, half-recognition, her red curls whipping as she tried to turn her head. "Wait," she started, but the word dissolved into a moan as the first fingers caught on the rim of her cunt, the owner's grunt drowning out Elise's startled,

"Oh shit, we should get out of here," her friends yelled. The camera hit the grass as homeless men emerged from the shadows, their stench of sweat and cheap liquor preceding them, hands already working belt buckles. One knelt, his tongue dragging a wet stripe up her slit before he spat directly onto her clit, the sound obscenely wet. "Gonna wreck this tight little cunt," he promised, and the girl's hips stuttered forward, her cunt pulsing around nothing, already betraying her.

The first cock slammed into her without warning, her pussy stretching obscenely around the intrusion, the slap of flesh echoing off the park benches. She screamed, not in pain, but in startled pleasure, her body arching against the cuffs as her tits swayed violently. The man behind her laughed, his fingers digging into her hips hard enough to bruise, his thrusts short and brutal. "Fuck, she's dripping," he grunted, his balls slapping against her clit with every snap of his hips.

Someone else grabbed her hair, yanking her head back as another cock forced itself between her lips, the taste of salt and unwashed skin flooding her mouth. Tears streaked her freckles, but her moans vibrated around the shaft, her tongue instinctively curling under the frenulum. The camera, forgotten in the grass, caught the moment her eyes rolled back, her thighs trembling as her first orgasm tore through her, just as the man in her pussy came, his cum painting her walls in thick, hot spurts.

The others didn't wait. Hands groped her tits, pinching her nipples hard enough to make her sob around the cock in her mouth, while another positioned himself at her asshole, spitting roughly before forcing his way in. She convulsed, her body torn between pleasure and overstimulation, her muffled screams lost in the sounds of skin slapping skin. The man in her ass came first, his grip on her hips tightening as he emptied himself inside her, the sensation making her pussy clench around the softening cock still buried there.

Someone shoved the first man aside, replacing him before his cum could even drip out of her, the new cock thicker, the stretch bordering on painful. She whimpered, but her cunt still pulsed hungrily, betraying her as it swallowed him deeper. The man fucking her face pulled out, slapping his wet shaft against her flushed cheeks before shoving it back down her throat, her gag reflex long since overridden by sheer need.

The rhythm became chaotic, no coordination, just a frenzy of thrusts, fingers bruising her thighs, someone's teeth sinking into the curve of her ass. Her second orgasm hit like a seizure, her back arching violently against the bench, her cunt milking the cock inside her as another man groaned and came, his release mixing with the first. The taste of stale beer filled her mouth as the man above her finished, her throat working instinctively to swallow.

Then the knife flashed, not a clean slice, but a jagged tear across her throat, the pain delayed by the shock of cold metal. She gasped, her body seizing as blood bloomed hot and slick down her chest, her vision blurring. The man in her pussy came again, his hips jerking erratically as her dying cunt spasmed around him, his groan lost in the wet, choking sounds she made. The camera, still rolling, caught the moment her pupils dilated, fixed and empty, even as her hips twitched in one last, pathetic mimicry of pleasure.

Someone laughed, low and guttural, as they rolled her limp body onto the bench, her breasts lolling to the side, nipples still stiff from the cold air. Another cock nudged against her slack lips, smearing precum across her slack mouth, but her jaw stayed loose, her tongue lifeless against her teeth. The man shrugged and shoved into her anyway, his thrusts lazy now, like he was fucking a warm ragdoll, his fingers tangling in her red curls to tilt her head back further. Blood pooled in the hollow of her throat, dripping onto the bench with a sound like rain.

Her ass was still tight, even in death, and the last man took his time, savoring the way her body resisted before yielding, his fingers digging into the bruises already darkening her hips. He came with a shudder, his cum leaking out of her in slow, sticky rivulets, mixing with the blood streaking her thighs. Someone wiped their cock on her thigh, leaving a glistening trail, before zipping up with a satisfied grunt. The camera light flickered, the lens fogged with condensation, or maybe it was just the girl's last breath, still hanging in the air.

They left her there, cuffed to the bench, her legs splayed obscenely wide, her cunt gaping and glazed with cum. The first drops of rain hit her skin like a benediction, washing the blood into pinkish swirls between her breasts. Somewhere, the distant wail of sirens cut through the night, but the men were already gone, their laughter trailing behind them like the scent of cheap liquor and sweat. The girl's eyes stayed open, staring at nothing, her lips parted around a silent scream.

A gust of wind caught her curls, lifting them for a moment, the red strands tangling in the cuffs like living things. Her nipples hardened in the cold, the dark circles of her areolas puckered tight, and a slow trickle of cum seeped from her asshole, dripping onto the bench beneath her. The park smelled like wet grass and sex now, the metallic tang of blood fading under the weight of rain. Someone had left a cigarette butt balanced on her hip, the ember long dead.

The cops found her like that, her body already cooling, the handcuffs biting into her wrists so deeply they'd left purple grooves. One of them sighed, rubbing his temple like this was just paperwork, while the other radioed it in, his voice flat. The camera lay in the grass nearby, its lens cracked but still recording, though no one would check the footage until much later, when a bored tech would pause on the frame where her toes curled in the dirt, mid-orgasm, the knife already glinting in the periphery. Realizing he could sell this as a snuff film for extreme money.

Her friends were the ones who identified her, their faces pale under the station's fluorescent lights. Elise kept touching her own throat absently, her fingers tracing the ghost of a wound that wasn't there. The detective would later note how none of them cried, not really. Just shaky breaths and bitten lips, like they'd known, somehow, that the joke would end like this. The girl's body was zipped into a bag, her freckles disappearing under the black plastic, her curls finally still.

The summer night wrapped the forest clearing like a velvet shroud, heavy with the scent of pine resin and woodsmoke. Emily had pitched her small tent two days ago, seeking solitude after the city had hollowed her out. She was twenty-eight, restless, her body still carrying the soft curves of someone who had once believed the world was gentle. Tonight, the fire crackled low, and hunger gnawed at her more than loneliness.

A figure emerged from the treeline — tall, broad-shouldered, his apron still stained dark even in the firelight. The local butcher, he’d said when she first met him on the trail that afternoon. Elias. His voice was low gravel, his eyes the color of storm clouds over old blood.

“Smelled your fire,” he murmured, stepping closer. In his hands he carried a small iron grill and a wrapped bundle. “Thought you might want something real. None of that packaged trail shit.”

Emily accepted. The meat was rich, seared perfectly, juices running pink across her tongue. She ate with grateful moans, licking grease from her fingers while he watched her, unblinking.

Later, when the stars had wheeled halfway across the sky and the bottle of cheap whiskey had loosened her tongue, she asked what kind of animal it was.

Elias stared into the flames for a long moment. His jaw worked.

“My daughter,” he said at last, voice quiet. “Anna. Nineteen. She… wanted it this way. Begged me. Said she was tired of being afraid of her own skin. I gave her what she asked for. Cut her slow. Honored every inch.”

The words should have sent Emily screaming into the dark. Instead, something inside her cracked open like a ripe fruit left too long in the sun. Heat flooded low in her belly, thick and shameful and undeniable. Her thighs pressed together involuntarily. She could still taste Anna on her lips.

“Oh God…” Emily whispered, voice trembling. Her fingers curled into the blanket beneath her. “You… you fed me your own daughter?”

Elias didn’t look away. “Does that disgust you, girl?”

A broken sound escaped her — half sob, half moan. “No. It… it turns me on. I’m so wet it hurts.” The confession spilled out of her before she could stop it. “I feel sick. And I’ve never been more alive.”

She crawled to him on her knees, the fire painting their faces in shifting gold and shadow. Her hands shook as she tugged at his belt. Elias let her, one large hand resting heavy on the back of her neck, not guiding, just anchoring.

When she freed him, thick and already hard, she looked up with wide, glistening eyes. “Tell me about her. While I… while I taste you.”

“She was soft here,” he murmured as Emily took him into her mouth, slow and reverent. “Just like you. Used to cry when I’d brush her hair too rough. But she wanted the knife. Said it felt like being truly seen.” His voice roughened as her tongue swirled. “Fuck… that’s it. Deeper, Emily. Let her be between us.”

Tears slipped down Emily’s cheeks even as she sucked him with desperate hunger, the salt of her own shame mixing with the taste of him. Guilt and lust braided together so tightly she couldn’t tell them apart. She pulled off with a wet gasp, strings of saliva connecting her swollen lips to the head of his cock.

“I want you inside me,” she breathed. “While I still taste her. Please, Elias. I need to feel how wrong this is.”

He pulled her up, kissing her hard, devouring the remnants of his daughter from her tongue. Their clothes came away in frantic layers until she was bare beneath the summer sky, nipples tight and aching. He laid her down on the blanket, the ground cool against her back, and settled between her thighs.

“Look at me,” he commanded softly. Emily did, eyes wide and glassy with fear and need.

“I’m terrified,” she confessed in a shaking whisper as he pushed inside her, stretching her open. “But don’t stop. I want to disappear into this feeling.”

Elias moved slow, deep, grinding against that spot inside her that made stars burst behind her eyes. His mouth found her breast, tongue circling the sensitive peak until she arched and whimpered. Then his teeth — gentle at first, then harder. Emily cried out, fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Yes— bite. Make it hurt like she did.” Her voice cracked. “I want to bleed for you too.”

He bit down. Sharp, sudden pain flared as his teeth broke skin. Warm blood welled against his tongue and she sobbed in pleasure, hips rolling desperately to meet every thrust. The metallic tang mixed with the taste of her skin as he sucked hard, marking her.

Their rhythm grew ragged, bodies slick with sweat and a thin sheen of blood. Emily’s inner walls fluttered around him, tightening with every brutal pulse of pleasure-pain.

“I’m going to come,” she gasped against his mouth, voice raw. “With your daughter still inside me. Fuck— I’m so close—”

“Come with me,” he growled, kissing her again, sharing the copper bloom between them. “Let go, Emily. Surrender.”

They shattered together.

Her orgasm crashed through her like a storm breaking, thighs clamping around his waist as she milked him deep. Elias groaned into her mouth, hips stuttering as he spilled inside her, hot and endless. They kept kissing through the aftershocks — messy, breathless, tongues sliding against each other while ragged gasps mingled in the space between their lips.

When the peak finally ebbed, he stayed buried inside her, forehead pressed to hers. Blood trickled slowly from her bitten nipple, painting faint red trails across her pale breast.

Emily’s voice was small, awed, trembling. “What am I becoming?” She searched his eyes, fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. “I should be horrified. I should run. But I just want more. Tell me… is there still more of her? Would you… share the rest with me?”

She kissed him again, softer this time, a trembling question hanging in the humid night air between them. The fire had burned low, but something far darker had only just begun to blaze.

The fire had sunk to embers, pulsing like a dying heart beneath the summer stars. Emily lay trembling beneath Elias, his spent cock still buried inside her, their mingled fluids and the slow trickle of blood from her bitten nipple painting her skin in warm, glistening streaks. Her chest heaved with ragged breaths. She could still taste Anna on both their tongues.

She looked up at him, eyes wide, shining with tears that were not only from pain. Her voice came out small, cracked, trembling with the weight of what she was about to say.

“I… I don’t want this to end,” she whispered, fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw as if memorizing him already. “Not like this. Not with me still whole. I feel her inside me, Elias. Your daughter. And it’s making me ache in ways I can’t explain. I’m terrified… but I want to give you more. I want you to take me apart while I’m still full of you.”

Elias stilled, searching her face. His hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing away a tear. “Emily… you understand what you’re asking?”

She nodded, a broken, eager little sob escaping her. “I do. I want to ride you… with my ass. Slow. Deep. While you open me. While you reach inside and take my liver. Grill it right here, over the coals, and feed it to me while we’re still joined. I want to die tasting myself… tasting what I’ve become for you. I’m so scared it hurts, but the fear is making me wetter than I’ve ever been. Please. Let me surrender everything.”

A long silence stretched between them, heavy with ritual and reverence. Elias’s eyes darkened with something ancient—grief, hunger, awe. “You’re beautiful when you’re this honest,” he murmured, kissing her softly, almost tenderly. “I’ll be gentle as I can. Until you beg me not to be.”

He eased out of her pussy with a wet sound that made her whimper at the loss. Then he lay back on the blanket, thick cock still half-hard and glistening. Emily straddled, facing the fire, her trembling hands guiding the blunt head to her tighter entrance. She was slick enough—his cum and her own arousal easing the way—but the stretch still tore a sharp cry from her throat as she sank down inch by inch.

“Oh fuck… it burns,” she gasped, voice raw with wonder and fear. “You’re so thick… I feel like you’re splitting me open already.” Her hips rolled in tiny, experimental circles, taking him deeper into her ass until she sat fully impaled, shaking. “Don’t move yet. Just… feel me. I’m so full of you it’s making my head spin.”

Elias’s large hands settled on her hips, steadying her. One slid up her spine in a slow caress. “Breathe, girl. Let it hurt. Let it feel holy.”

She began to ride—slow, deliberate, ass clenching around his thickening cock with every rise and fall. The pain was exquisite, grounding. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’m yours now. Not just my body… my soul feels like it’s cracking open too. I’ve never loved anyone like this. Never wanted to disappear into someone so completely.”

His knife—long, sharp, lovingly honed—appeared in his hand. The cool flat of the blade traced down her belly, making her shiver and clench harder around him. “Tell me when you’re ready,” he whispered against her shoulder.

“Now,” Emily breathed, voice breaking. “Cut me. Gut me while I ride you. I need to feel it.”

The first incision was precise, just below her ribs—hot, bright pain that made her cry out and slam herself down harder on his cock. Blood welled instantly, warm and slick, running down her stomach and onto his thighs. Elias worked carefully, opening her, his free hand rubbing slow circles over her clit to weave the agony into pleasure.

“I can see your heart racing,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion. “You’re so fucking brave. So beautiful like this… coming undone for me.” His fingers slipped inside the wound, searching, gentle even as she sobbed and rode him faster, ass gripping him like a vice.

When he found her liver—warm, heavy, pulsing—he began to ease it free. Emily’s whole body convulsed, a guttural moan tearing from her throat. “It hurts… God, it hurts so much, but don’t stop—please don’t stop. I’m giving it to you. All of me.” Her voice cracked into confession. “I’m falling in love with you, Elias. Right here. While you take me apart. I’ve never felt this seen.”

He lifted the glistening organ into the firelight. Sliced a thick piece, set it on the small grill over the embers. The smell of her own flesh searing rose quickly—rich, intimate, obscene. While it cooked, he kept fucking her slowly from below, hips rising to meet her frantic movements, two fingers still rubbing her swollen clit in tight, relentless circles.

The piece was ready too soon. Pink at the center, glistening. Elias brought it to her lips. “Open for me, love.”

Emily took it between her teeth, chewing with slow, reverent bites even as her body shook violently. Blood and juices ran down her chin. The taste—her own life, transformed by fire—sent her spiraling. “It’s… me,” she whimpered around the mouthful, eyes rolling back. “I’m eating myself for you… and I’ve never felt more alive.”

Her orgasm built like a gathering storm—terrifying, inevitable. She rode him harder, ass swallowing every inch, blood pouring freely now as her body gave out. “I’m going to come… I’m going to die coming for you. Rub me—please—make me squirt while I go.”

Elias’s fingers worked her clit faster, his cock thrusting deep into her tightening ass. “Let go, Emily. I’ve got you. Fall into me.”

The climax hit her like divine judgment. Her entire body seized, back arching violently as she squirted in powerful, hot arcs across his stomach and chest—clear fluid mixing with her blood in a ritual baptism. A long, broken cry tore from her throat, half scream, half declaration of love. She kept chewing, swallowing the last bite of her own liver as the waves crashed through her, vision tunneling, heart stuttering.

“I love you,” she gasped, voice fading, eyes locked on his with absolute surrender. “Forever… I’m yours… even after—”

Her body slumped forward against him, still twitching, still impaled. The last of her warmth spilled out around his cock as the life left her in one final, trembling sigh—peaceful, ecstatic, transformed.

Elias held her close, stroking her hair, kissing her cooling forehead while the fire crackled on. The night air tasted of smoke, blood, and something sacred.

He whispered against her lips, voice rough with awe and grief and dark, endless love:

“Welcome home, Emily.”

Part 1: Girl Power!

(Author’s Note: This one’s a little heavy on the world building/plot but there is plenty of gore. Trust me.)

Three months after William’s “proposal”, the wedding is finally here. William’s family are traditional, demanding a full collaring ceremony instead of a simple exchange of rings. But it’s all right, because William has promised her the night of her life following the wedding, and Leonora can’t wait to see what/who he has prepared for her.

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s the third time you’ve said that during this meal.”

“I know. But still. I’m really sorry.”

“William.”

“I can’t help it- AHHK!” Leonora sits back down, wiping her hands daintily on her napkin as William pouts, cupping his pink cheek.

“That was unnecessary,” He mutters, taking a bite of toast as Leonora sips her coffee.

“No it wasn’t.” She snaps, tossing her linen napkin onto her half-eaten breakfast, “You have to stop this William. If your father sees you whimpering at the sight of me on my knees what do you think will happen?” He frowns but doesn’t argue, knowing she’s right. Even in the most liberal of families, it would be a pathetic, embarrassing sight for a man to grovel over a woman.

“A collaring ceremony is so antiquated,” William says, relenting in his argument as his cheek smarts from Leonora’s hit. She looks so beautiful sitting there at his breakfast nook, her hair still wild from sleep and nipples poking out from under her satin slip.

“It doesn’t matter,” Leonora says simply, smiling as William dabs his napkin on the corner of her mouth, “Your inheritance is contingent upon us following his whims, one of which is a traditional ceremony.” She roll her eyes at his kicked-puppy expression and leans forward to take his hands waiting until he meets her gaze before she speaks.

“It’s not a big deal, darling,” She says, “your father barely involves himself in our lives so if he wants this one thing, just give it to him.”

“You’re right,” He concedes, “as always.” She understands his hesitation of course; collaring ceremonies went out of still decades ago outside of the elite communities. But William came from a good family, and as much as he complains about his father, Mr. Blackthorne currently sits on a net worth of over ten billion dollars. And Leonora will be damned if she lets that fortune slip away due to her husbands romantic tendencies.

Turning back to her coffee, Leonora says, “Your mother is going to be here in an hour, will you be able to control yourself until I see you at the ceremony?”

At her question William’s eyes darken slightly and Leonora feels a bit of wetness drip down into her panties as she says, “I promised you I would do anything, and I intend to keep that promise.” He leans forward to take her hand, pressing a chaste kiss to her smooth skin as he murmurs, “My darling little wife.” Leonora’s gasps quietly at the display of devotion, and she combs her fingers through William’s soft hair as he admires her.

After a moment, she pulls her hand back and stands up, saying, “You need to get in the shower and I need to get ready for your mother.”

“Yes dear.” William chirps, laughing as Leonora playfully rolls her eyes, swatting him with a newspaper as he scampers away.

Leonora busies herself with cleaning their dishes before the doorbell finally rings signaling the arrival of her soon to be mother-in-law.

“My darling Leonora!” Madame Blackthorne exclaims, rushing past her many attendants to embrace the younger girl, pressing two wet kisses to either side of her face, “You look so thin! What a wonderful bride you’ll make, you’ll look so fetching in the Lavante dress I brought you!” Like many traditional men, Mr. Blackthorne had many wives and mistresses spread across the country, but as his live-in wife, Diane Blackthorne was his Madame. She was a tall, graceful woman always dressed like she had just stepped out of the 1930s, elegant and refined. Her face was sunken in from all the amount of fat removal surgeries she’d had over the years but her grip was strong as she lead Leonora back into the home.

Several female attendants followed behind them, all dressed the same: a form fitting black pencil skirt, matching blazer, and six inch high stilettos with a glossy red color on the bottom.

“Take that silly dressing gown off and come stand in front of the mirrors,” Madame Blackthorne took a seat on the large, circular couch as large rectangular mirrors were set up across from them, “And will somebody get me a glass of chardonnay, my head is killing me.” A short girl with tits so large they pressed against the tight fabric of her blazer hurried into the kitchen as Leonora slipped off her dress.

“Have you got any Irish in you?” Madame Blackthorne asks, taking the glass of wine from the attendant as Leonora steps out of her lacey panties, “I have a girlfriend who married an Irish fellow and they have the most darling red-headed children.”

“I’m not sure, Madame,” Leonora offers, as one of the attendants helps her on to a raised platform, “My parents never shared their heritage with me.”

“I bet you do. Now, let’s see you in that Lavante.” She snapes her fingers and four attendants rush forward. Three of them move to dress Leonora while another kneels between Madame Blackthorne’s legs, suctioning her mouth to the woman’s mature cunt. The attendant moans into the Madame’s bare cunt, bobbing her head as Leonora is zipped into the dress.

“Oh my!” Madame Blackthorne exclaims, though Leonora can’t be sure what she’s reacting to, “You look divine, dear!”

Leonora turns to look at herself in the mirror, and she can’t help but agree.

The dress is strapless, exposing her shoulders and collarbones. The bodice is lace, structured with corset boning to compress her already small waist into an almost impossible size. Two embroidered flowers cover her breasts, while the rest of her milky skin is left exposed. The skirt is made up of two parts – one of them a thin strand of ribbon that barely covers the top of her mound, while a longer, opaque white skirt is wrapped around it. With on tug it could fall away, and the attendant ties it in a loose bow.

Madame Blackthorne moans as she wraps her thighs around the head of the girl pleasing her, and Leonora can’t help but admire herself in the mirror. With a grunt the Madame cums on the girl’s face, humping against her for a moment until she slumps back on the couch. Thankfully, another attendant grabs the wine glass from her before she drops it.  

After a few minutes, Madame Blackthorne gets back up to her feet and gestures towards Leonora, “One of you get her a pair of pumps while I wait in the limo.” She stumbles off, flanked by five girls as the remaining two stay with Leonora.

“Take my hand, Miss,” Girl 1 says, as the other one crouches down to slide her feet into a pair of heels with a dainty ribbon wrapping around her calf. From this angle, Leonora can still see the girlcum covering Girl 2’s face, sticking her eyelashes together every time she blinks. She straps Leonora into the heels before leading her back out to where Madame Blackthorne waits in the limo.

“Congratulations,” Girl 2 blurts, as Girl 1 opens the door for Leonora, “The young master is quite handsome.” With that Leonora climbs in to the back, where one of the girls is massaging Madame Blackthorne’s feet, and the door shuts behind her.

“Could you do me a favor?” Leonora asks the Madame as the limo starts driving.

“Of course, my dear,” Madame Blackthorne replies, “in a few short hours you’ll be my daughter.”

“Could you have the slut you used in the living room disposed of?”

“As you wish,” Madame Blackthorne says, typing out a quick message on her phone, before turning back to Leonora, “I think you’ll fit in quite well with our family.”

Leonora smiles at her, “I think so too.”

A single shot is fired behind the car, and Leonora sits back as one of Madame Blackthorne’s girls begins to massage her legs, eagerly awaiting the ceremony to come.

⊰═══════════════════⊱

 Standing there, at the alter, watching his wife walk down the aisle unlocked something inside of William. From the moment he saw her, he knew he wanted her.

Needed her.

All he’d meant to do was step aside to piss while the party raged on when he saw her. The girl he’d been looking for.

His father had been breathing down his neck for the past year about finding a suitable wife, but William didn’t just want one off the registry. No, he wanted love. And the moment he saw Leonora covered in blood as she slaughtered that sorority chick, he’d been obsessed. When as watched her take a chunk out of Gavin, he’d fallen in love. He was lucky she had a decent rating; his father gave him plenty of grace but even he would’ve drawn the line at a Meat girl.

But Leonora, his perfect deadly darling, she was perfect.

“For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”

“I’m proud of you son,” His father said, a hand on his shoulder as they watched Leonora make her way down the aisle, “You picked a real beauty. We’ll get strong sons from her.”

The music quiets as Leonora joins William at the end of the aisle. His father recites the Oath of Loyalty but all William could focus on was his radiant bride. He was frozen in place as he admired her, and Leonora smiles as his father reaches the end of the Oath. Numbly, he reached forward to undo the sash around her waist. The long skirt dropped to the floor, barring Leonora’s sweet little snatch and slim, pale legs to the small audience.

“And with this ring, my son claims this girl as his own.” William takes the collar from his father, and gulps as Leonora sinks to her knees in front of him.

“For now and forever, I am yours.” She says, barring her neck to him.

“You are mine.” It’s only from the hours of practice Leonora had forced him through regarding the traditional vows that he’s able to stutter his line. William leans down slightly to wrap the collar around Leonora’s neck. It’s a family heirloom, worn by the Madame before his current mother: a thin band of black velvet with a large pearl pendant dangling in the center. As he clasps it, William can barely hear the sounds of applause as she watches Leonora rise to her feet, baring his family’s mark around her neck.

“My husband.” She says, reaching out to take his hand.

“My wife.” William replies, leading Leonora back down the aisle and towards the rest of their lives. He couldn’t wait to show her the afterparty he had planned.

⊰═══════════════════⊱

After a quick fuck in the ceremony hall lounge room, the couple drives back to William’s estate under the glow of moonlight. Throughout the ride William can’t keep his hands off Leonora, kissing her neck, chest, and feet as the driver takes them back home.

“I love you,” He moans, burying his face against her stomach, “I’ll do anything for you.”

“I know you will, darling,” Leonora says, rubbing her finger’s along his neck until the limo comes to a stop in front of the estate.

“Come on,” William says, hoisting Leonora into his arms as he carries his bride across the threshold, “I have a gift for you.”

“Isn’t it my job to pleasure you?” Leonora asks, giggling as William easily carries her past the foyer and to the large, locked room at the back of the house.

“You pleasure me everyday just by being here,” William says, kissing Leonora as he holds her in his arms before remembering the plan. He sets her down gently, punching in the code to unlock the room as Leonora runs her hands over his back and ass.

“You’re a little devil,” He laughs, nipping Leonora’s earlobe as the door swings open.

“But you love it.”

“I do,” He says, before grasping Leonora’s waist as he pulls her into the room, “My wedding gift to you, lyovushka.” She’d been inside the play room before, but William had fully renovated it over the past month. The floors and walls were covered in tiles with a drain at the center of the room. Blue-ish, white light illuminated the room from the fluorescent lights in the ceiling. And on the other side of the room, chained to the wall are two girls. Both have a metal chain stretched over their necks, pinning them to the walls, their wrists cuffed to the wall and ankles to the floor. They’re gagged and blindfolded, helpless to listen to the sound of the happy couples voices.

“I had the guys test the drainage last week,” William murmurs, wrapping his arms around Leonora from behind as the presses against her, “works perfectly. There’s a walk-in closet with toys for you to use behind that black door. Do whatever you want, baby, I want you to have fun.”

“You did all this…for me?” Leonora asks and William blushes and shrugs.

“I wanted to make you happy.” He explains as he takes a seat perfectly set up to view both victims.

“Oh you did,” Leonora purrs, pressing her hand against her throbbing cunt as William unzips his pants, “clothes on or off?”

“On, please,” William moans, shoving his pants down to the ground as he rips his shirt open, buttons scattering across the room, “Please keep it on my love.” One of the girl’s screams behind her gag as the other sobs, and Leonora bends down to rub her cunt against William’s outstretched hand.

“As you wish,” She says, licking her lips at the sight of William lifting his hand to his face to breathe in the scent of her slick, his other hand thumbing at the head of his hard cock. Leonora moves past him and the girls to enter the closet. When she flicks on the light it reveals rows and rows of shelves, each holding a different instrument.

There were drills and hand saws, coils of wire and stun guns, alongside a massive collection of knives.

Leonora picks up a stun gun, a small handheld blow torch, and a box of medical grade scalpels. When she re-enters the playroom, William has filed a large basin with water and ice as he fiddles with a panel of buttons on the walls.

“A personal request?” Leonora teases, gesturing towards the basin as William blushes.

“After that Arctic Exhibit we saw last week, I can’t get the idea out of my head.”

“Might not be enough ice to really freeze them,” Leonora muses, examining the chunks of ice floating in the water. She looks back up at William, batting her eyelashes as she smirks, “Hopefully you didn’t get me any swimmers.” He laughs, gesturing for her to step forward to examine the panel.

“You can control the chain length and strength with these, but I’ll hold on to a remote in case your hands are full,” He says as Leonora places the blowtorch and box on a table across from the girls, “Otherwise I’ll just watch, it’s your gift after all.”

“Thank you,” Leonora says, leaning forward to press a kiss against William’s lip as one of the girls writhes and wails in her bindings. With that, William returns to his chair and Leonora turns to admire her new toys.

The girl on the left continues to scream, her sweaty, brunette hair sticking to her face as she continues to struggle. To her right is a sobbing girl with pale skin and large breasts sagging over her pudgy stomach.

“FUCK YOU YOU CRAZY MOTHERFUCKER I’LL KILL YOU - NGAHH—!”  She convulses as Leonora presses the stun gun against her stomach. Her eyes roll back as Leonora holds the gun against her flesh, body twitching as the current flows through her.

“Enough of that, you’ll speak when spoken to.” Leonora snaps, pressing the gun to the girl’s chest again before stepping back. The girl gasps for breath, red faced as she pants. A bit of urine runs down her legs and onto the floor below and Leonora sneers at it, turning towards William to ask, “Do they have names?”

“Probably,” He responds, cock grasped loosely in his fist, “Salesman didn’t offer them though. Call them whatever you want, not that it matters.” He laughs as Leonora turns back to survey the girls.

“Hmmmm what to call you,” She starts, examining the screaming girl before saying, “You’ll be Slut. And you –“ she points at the other one, “You’ll be Pig.”

“Let’s start with you,” Leonora says, trading her stun gun for the blowtorch as she stalks towards Pig, the girl’s flesh jiggling with each sob she let’s out.

“P-please I have a good rating my family can pay you please let me go—” Leonora cuts her off as she backhands the girl across the face, moving forward to kneel besides her as Pig continues to whimper.

Gripping her face, Leonora squishes Pig’s cheeks as she says, “You have such pretty eyes, I’ve always wanted mine to be amber.” Pig falters, confused on the sudden change in pace, and she gives Leonora a watery smile as a sense of hope starts to fill her. “Too bad I’m a jealous person,” Leonora says, as she hoists the blowtorch up towards the girl’s face. “William, tighten her neck,” Pig squeals in fear as Leonora ignites the blowtorch, the flames close enough for the heat to singe her skin.

“No n-no no – NOOO AHHHHH!” Pig flails against the chain as Leonora lowers the torch closer towards her face, scorching Pig’s skin as the flames lap at one of her wide eyes. She squeals, choking herself against the chain as she writhes, but Leonora hardly notices. Leonora is entranced at the sight of the eye bubbling as the flames reduce it to liquid, blood and white gel oozing down her face as the flesh turns red then black. Slut must’ve regained her senses, because she too begins to scream as the room fills with the rich scent of roasted meat.

Leonora presses the flames against Pig’s other eye, leaving her blinded with nothing but two bloody holes where her eyes once were. She flinches, moaning uselessly as Leonora drags the torch down over her breasts, pressing the burning metal against her nipples until Pig vomits up a mouthful of bile.

“You smell delicious,” Leonora says as she runs the flames over Pig’s stomach, bits of fat dripping out from the burns as she continues to cook. Once her flesh is seared, Leonora reaches over to dig her fingers into Pig’s flesh, yanking out a thin strip of cooked skin and flesh. At the sight of her popping it into her mouth, Slut vomits as well and begins bashing her head against the wall until William tightens the chain.

“Want to try?” Leonora asks, laughing at the look of pure terror on Slut’s face, “suit yourself.” Ripping off another strip of meat, Leonora presses it into Pig’s mouth and pins her hand over her mouth until Pig starts to chew. By now her entire face, chest, and stomach are burned, and Pig’s body begins to tremble as shock sets in. She slumps back against the wall; breath so shallow Leonora can hardly hear it.

Well, seems that toy had served it’s purpose.

Moving on to Slut, Leonora glances over to see William panting, face flushed as he madly strokes his cock.

“Give me a hand?” She asks, and he launches up from his seat to hurry over to her.

“I wanna test out your freezing idea,” She explains, “I still think there isn’t enough ice to freeze the whole body, but if you dump a bit of water out I can soak her limbs individually. Do you have a muscle relaxant?”

“Yes,” William replies, dashing over to the closet as Slut whimpers on the ground. He returns with a small vial and a syringe, injecting Slut with a large does of relaxant to keep her aware but immobile.  

“I love you,” William murmurs as he stands, stepping forward to wipe a bead of Pig’s blood from Leonora’s shoulder. As he dumps out some of the water, Leonora reaches down to rub herself, tapping her fingers against her clit as she moans. William grunts as he hoists Slut onto a small, square table, leaving her head and limbs to hang loosely over the sides.

He pushes the water basin, now mostly ice, over to rest under where Slut’s arm will fall. Leonora grabs Slut’s wrist to hold her arm up as William positions the basin so it will submerge the limb.

Slut tries to say something but all that comes out is a slur of nonsense as drool drips down her face. She groans as Leonora drops her arm into the frigid water.

“’How long do you think it’ll take?” William asks, gripping Leonora’s waist gently as he stands behind her. She moans as his hot cock throbs against her ass, threatening to dip in between her legs each time she moves. William’s hands drag up the front of her bodice as he cups her breasts, massaging them as Leonora arches back into his touch. Slick drips down Leonora’s legs as William caresses her, and at that moment she wants nothing more than to bend over the table as he fucks her.

“I have a better idea,” She says, gasping when William rolls a nipple in between her fingers, “wrap your belt around her neck, and you can fuck me while I waterboard her.” William shudders behind her, precum leaking against her skin as he pulls himself away from her.

“Why the belt?” His voice is almost raw as he fumbles with his belt, looping it around Slut’s neck as she grunts.

“So I can dunk her.” Leonora pushes the basin underneath Slut’s head and laughs at the dazed expression on Slut's face, her face flushed a bright red from being upside for so long. Leonora grips the edge of the belt to pull Slut’s head up, as the couple make their way back to the other side of the table in between Slut’s legs. “Now fuck me,” Leonora demands, forcing Slut’s legs open as she bends over. The moment William’s cock breaches her cunt; she loosens her hold on the belt sending Slut’s head into the water. With the relaxant still coursing through her body, she’s forced to lay there, head submerged in the freezing water as William begins to fuck his wife.

Leonora moans in pleasure as William starts to truly pound her, the table shakes as he fucks into her tight snatch and Slut's head remains submerged in the water. Yanking on the belt, Leonora presses back against him as Slut’s head is pulled back up. The water must’ve shocked her system enough to lessen the effect of the relaxant as she gasps for air and twitches uselessly under Leonora.

She makes eye contact with Leonora and opens her mouth to say something before Leonora lets her head fall back into the water. This time, her body surges forcing Slut’s cunt to rub against Leonora’s clit. She gasps in pleasure, rutting against Slut’s pussy as her body flails. The mixed sensations of William’s thick cock fucking into her and Slut’s slick pussy kissing her own makes her moan loudly, gripping Slut’s waist so she can angle herself better.

“Yes, fuck me harder,” Leonora whines as William thrusts against her, Slut’s movements becoming even more frantic as Leonora humps her, “fucking cum inside of me, William, give me your baby.”

“Leonora,” He moans, forcing her down further until she’s pressed flush against Slut’s chest as William embraces her from behind. He’s chanting her name like a prayer, and Leonora shrieks in pleasure as he cums inside of her. The feeling of his semen coating her insides and Slut’s pussy rubbing against her own sends Leonora over the edge, and she mewls and moans as her body trembles through her orgasm.

Her cheek presses against Slut’s skin as she catches her breath, William babbling a stream of praise as he embraces her. Though Slut’s flesh is still warm, Leonora notices the lack of a heartbeat.

What a wonderful wedding present her toys had been.

As Leonora rests on the chest of the cooling corpse she smiles to herself, feeling William’s dick softly twitching against her. Closing her eyes, she imagines a new life stirring inside her womb as she rests in the afterglow.

(COMMING SOON: Part 3: A Day at the Office).