“You crazy kids!” Sarah’s dad said with a laugh.  “God, I remember my Beach Break. My friends and I thought we were fucking invincible! Wow were we wrong. Still, that’s how I met your mother—both she and I were the only survivors of our groups, and we were lonely so…” he winked, “well, that’s where you came from!”

He laughed and kissed Sarah on the top of the head, who giggled and pulled away. “Gross Dad!”

“So who are you going with?”

“Well,” she answered, “everyone, pretty much. We didn’t want to miss it, it’s kind of like, everyone’s eighteen now, and this is our last chance to really cut loose before we go to uni, work, whatever. Adult stuff.”

“Sure,” he answered. “I get it. Just so I know, you know, um, you know, you get how dangerous it is right?”

Sarah giggled again. “Yeah, I mean, that’s like the whole point right? We have the rest of our lives to have rules, restrictions, whatever. For one week, we party with no limits, do whatever with no laws, no consequences, just one big wild fucking party! Beach Break!”

“Yeah,” he said, injecting a touch of moroseness into his voice. “That’s pretty much it. I won’t tell you not to go, or to be careful… but… you know. Sometimes you get a choice between doing something that might kill you, or something that definitely will. And… there’s people cheering, cameras, daring… but, maybe think of me if that happens, ok? Maybe choose the less… lethal option?”

“Oh my god Dad,” Sarah groaned. “Don’t be such a helicopter.”

---

The six friends filled the red convertible sportscar and sped towards the Shining Coast seemingly fueled by excitement as much as petrol. Sarah, wearing a glittering red halter top that showed off her generous chest drove, while her boyfriend Denny sat beside her shirtless, his muscled chest glittering in the summer heat. 

Behind them, Tyler and his girlfriend Avery sat beside each other, both lean and fit. Brooke—Tyler’s twin sister—sat on her own boyfriend Ethan’s lap, who himself occupied the final remaining seat.

“Woo!” Brooke hooted, arms raised. “Beach Break!”

If Sarah was hot in a ‘girl next door’ kind of way, and Avery carried the sculpted perfection of an athlete—Brooke straight up looked like a supermodel. Given she’d modeled through high school and had already signed onto a new swimwear contract, it wasn’t even so much a comparison as reality.

She ground herself against Ethan, enjoying his hardness as his hands roamed the bare skin of her waist under her skimpy bikini top.

“Oh shit, look!” Denny shouted, pointing forwards. “It’s like us, you know, from a mirror universe or some shit.”

Coming towards them in the opposite lane was a blue convertible, which was similarly filled with hollering youths. 

“What are they doing?” Ethan asked, peaking around his girlfriend. “They’re going the wrong way, you think they’re dodging Beach Break?”

“Let’s play chicken with them!” Avery said, excited. “Come on Sarah, drive at them!”

“Fuck yeah!” Tyler agreed, as did the rest.

Sarah swerved the car into the oncoming lane, her unrestrained friends sliding with the motion, laughing as they slammed into each other, and aimed straight towards their blue opponents.

“Beach Break!” Brooke shouted.

As the oncoming car drew closer, its occupants clarified into five figures, three girls and two guys, themselves hollering and laughing as they realized they’d been recruited into a spontaneous game of chicken.

“Oh shit!” Sarah exclaimed, eyes wide, and nervously giggling. “I think I’m chicken, holy fuck they’re coming on fast!”

“Don’t be a pussy!” Avery admonished, and then slipped off her short crop top—revealing her perfectly perky small breasts, nipples peaked in the cool rushing air—and leaned forwards to pull it over Sarah’s head, blinding her.

“Foot down, fucking drive!” Avery encouraged.

As their car accelerated towards high-speed collision, Denny reached over to stabilize the steering wheel and Brooke twisted around to passionately kiss Ethan.

“Holy fuck, we’re gonna die!” Tyler cried out, while Avery continued to cheer.

At the last moment, the blue convertible driver, upon seeing that his opponent driver was blindfolded, panicked and swerved aggressively. The blue convertible bit hard into the tarmac, rolled violently onto its roof, and exploded into a deafening skid of sparks and pulverized glass. 

At the hundred and twenty or so kilometres-an-hour they’d been driving, centrifugal force turned the open cabin into a meat-grinder. The five teenagers were ripped from their seats and hurled down the highway like broken ragdolls, leaving a crimson smear of snapped limbs and torn flesh across thirty metres of road before the mangled chassis crumpled into the ditch.

Avery, Tyler and Denny stared open-mouthed at the carnage. Sarah, unable to bare the blindness any longer, pulled Avery’s top off her head and threw it out the side of the car.

“Woa,” she said, catching the blue wreckage in the rearview mirror.

Brooke pulled away from Ethan and blinked, looking a little dazed.

“Did we win?”

“You know,” Tyler said, ignoring her. “We probably shouldn’t tell anyone about this. Beach Break anarchy law only applies in Shining Coast City, and only starts at midnight.”

“Wait,” Sarah said with a laugh. “Are you saying we’re legally murderers? Holy shit.”

“Probably just manslaughter,” Avery responded with a laugh “Also, you bitch Sarah! My other tops are in the boot! My tits are going to be out when we get to the city.”

She didn’t sound particularly concerned, either at the manslaughter or her impending exhibitionism. Instead, she leaned back into her seat with a relaxed sigh, and threw her arms around the two boys to her left and right, pulling them against her bare sides.

“Beach Break!” Brooke cried.

---

“I see you all out there!” The DJ cried out, massive speakers amplifying her voice across the beach. Behind her, the glittering skyscrapers shot up from the Shining Coast’s skyline like daggers, visible above her stage.

Various cranes, holding crates above the massive crowd, were slowly spinning back and forth like giant claw machines.

“You look sexy, hungry, ready to paaaarrrtttyyyy!” 

She twiddled something on her controller, and the electronic music tempo began to increase. She began to bop in time with the music, glowing pastied boobs bouncing.

“You guys wanna cut loooosssseee?”

“YEAH!” the crowd roared back, Sarah, Denny, Avery, Tyler, Brooke and Ethan among them, each dressed in provocative rave outfits.

“You guys wanna die old and gross?”

“NO!”

“How ‘bout young and hot, and fucking like rabbits!”

“YEAH!”

“Well ok then, I guess the only thing to do is start the coooouuunnnnntttt dowwwwnn!”

A giant digital countdown appeared on the stage behind the DJ, mirrored on numerous screens around the beach.

“Ten!” The DJ cried out.

“NINE!” The crowd joined in.

“EIGHT!” The music continued to climb.

“SEVEN!” Avery, having gained a taste for exhibitionism the previous day, ripped her top off and continued dancing, pulling Tyler’s hands to her breasts.

“SIX!” He gripped them hard, squeezing their soft flesh, pinching her nipples between his fingers.

“FIVE!” Brooke slipped her hands in Ethan’s pants from behind.

“FOUR!” She began stroking his hardness.

“THREE!” Denny gripped Sarah, and lifted her onto his shoulders.

“TWO!” From her vantage, she began to record the crowd around her, and the cranes above with her phone.

“Holy Shit!” Avery cried, “Here we—"

“ONE!”

The DJ slammed her hand onto a big red button, and two things dropped.

Firstly, the base, as she kicked the music into a frenzy.

And secondly, the crates swinging high above, each with ground facing drop-doors that could release their contents on the crowd below. They didn’t all release at once, but were instead timed to release a steady barrage of varied items on those underneath.

Ten metres to the left of the group, an honest-to-god anvil fell on a couple sixty-nining. The man was killed instantly, head and chest turned to pulp while the woman’s lower body was similarly mashed.

She jerked from the sheer physics of the impact, mouth clamping down on the man’s dick and tearing it away. She opened her mouth in shock, bloody member plopping out as she stared at the flattened gore her waist and partner had become.

She tried to scream, but massive blood loss and shock made what remained of her body feel like lead, eyes drooping with sudden exhaustion.

She slumped to the ground, falling unconscious.

Scenes like this were mirrored throughout the crowd, objects falling onto the writhing partygoers and massacring small knots, much to the delight of those around them.

Heavy objects like the anvil crushed, shrapnel bombs tore groups to shreds, acid splashed and melted, liquid nitrogen froze and shattered, molten bitumen welded latex rave outfits to flesh.

“Woo!” Brooke shouted, voicing the group’s ecstasy. The rush of near-death, the taboo delight of seeing gruesome fatalities all around them, it all mixed together into an electric haze that was unlike anything the young group had ever felt.

Because of the crane’s motion, and the randomness of the drops, it was nearly impossible for the crowd below to dodge.

All they could do was dance and enjoy the thrill. The six friends writhed together, their movements somewhere between orgy and dance, clothes coming off as they fell into the passion of the music.

“This is fucking amazing!” Avery cried, arms in the air while Ethan and Tyler sucked a respective petite and perky tit, the girl enjoying the overwhelming sensation of touch, sight and smell.

Sarah, laughing as she tried to keep balance on Denny’s shoulders as he danced continued filming as best she could, capturing the insanity of it all.

At that moment, a thick glob of jellied white phosphorus and thickened incendiary fuel—aerated and superheated—dropped on top of a madly dancing guy only a metre in front of Avery. He caught the brunt of it, immediately falling to the ground with a screech, but a globule splashed and splattered against Avery’s bare back.

One moment, her skin was perfect. Young, bronzed and smooth, taut over toned muscle. For a fraction of a second, the boys only felt the sharp jolt of her body thrusting into theirs, her small tits shoved deeper into their mouths as she arched her back in instinctual reaction to the strange sensation on her back.

Then the heat bloomed. Avery’s ecstatic scream twisted into an ear-splitting, airless shriek as the jelly melted her perfect back to the subcutaneous fat, cooking her rear into blackened, smoking ribbons.

The boys pulled away in reaction to her howl and jerking movements as she desperately clawed at her back, trying uselessly to scrape away the burning napalm. All this accomplished was to make her hands burn just as fiercely as the sticky compound welded to her palms and fingers. 

“Oh shit,” Tyler said, watching his girlfriend scream and beg for help. “I think you’re cooked babe.”

“Oh my god,” Brooke said, face screwed up. “That’s so gross. Tyler, your girlfriend is gross.”

Avery fell to the ground, writhing no longer in pleasure, but in agony.

“Eww,” Sarah giggled, zooming her phone camera onto her friend. “She’s turning into jerky.”

“Umm,” Tyler said, looking around as if to find something that could help.

Denny, who’d begun the night drunk and was already finding his head pounding from the loud music and the smell of various chemicals groaned.

“She’s so fucking loud, like a damn banshee. Fuck.”

“Do we… help her?” Tyler asked hesitantly.

Avery, some small part of her mind comprehending, reached up for him, eyes wide, still screaming.

“Bleh,” Brooke said. “Why bother. She’ll look gross even if she heals. And then we’d be stuck playing nurse all week. Just… finish her off.”

“What do you…?”

“Oh my god, you’re useless.” Brooke said exasperated, and walked up to Avery. In front of the burning girl the mad dancer who’d taken the brunt of the napalm was a bonfire, the sand around him blackened with the heat.

Brooke kicked at Avery with her heel, trying to nudge her closer to the fire, being careful not to make contact with any of the burning gel. Avery howled and swung at her leg with her searing arm. Brooke jerked back, desperate to avoid that terrible touch and tumbled to the ground, heels wildly impractical in the sand.

“Don’t be such a bitch Avery!” Brooke complained, pulling herself up. “Come on guys, help me out!”

With a shrug, Tyler and Ethan stepped up to help, and the three of them kicked a screaming Avery towards the chemical fire, slow and careful to avoid spreading it to themselves. Her screams were fading, shock driving her towards unconsciousness, but there was a moment when she was kicked partially into the blaze and woke right back up as her relatively untouched front made partial contact with the gel.

Hands clamped on their ears, Brooke and the two boys gave one final kick and rolled their poor friend fully into the blaze, and the five survivors watched as she bubbled in the intense heat, Sarah still capturing it for posterity.

Coughing at the fumes, the five friends stepped away to a relatively clear spot just as a blaring horn blasted the beach, and everyone turned to the stage. Above, all the crates were empty, all contents released.

The DJ, blood spattered across her face raised her arms and shouted into her microphone.

“Congratulations survivors! Beach Break has officially begun! Make sure to check out the online program for the scheduled activities, there’s so much awesome stuff to do, be sure to plan your week accordingly. And a helpful tip, make sure to get your bucket list finished ASAP! Leave it too late, and you might be too dead!”

She laughed.

“Volunteers will be around all week wearing red pins, make sure to let them know if you find” —she made sarcastic quotation fingers on that word— “any bodies outside of the official events. We’re trying to avoid any rotting corpses, so body boys will be out collecting the dead and wounded for disposal. Be nice to them, remember that while yes, all laws have been relaxed for the week, if we lose too many helpers, we’ll have to conscript you guys to clean up! So be nice!”

---

“Annnd, posted!” Sarah exclaimed later, as the group trudged back to their hotel, holding her phone out for the others to see. She’d just posted the video of them kicking Avery into the fire onto her social media.

“Oh man,” Tyler complained, watching the video. “My hair looks awful in that. Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“You know,” Brooke said, leaning against her twin brother. “Now your girlfriend is ash, you’re going to be so lonely in your big empty hotel bed.”

“Yeah,” Tyler said. “Kinda sucks she died so soon. We had some, um, stuff we wanted to experiment with.”

“Yeah?” Brook said with a grin. “I mean, Ethan and I were talking, and well, we like experimenting too, and if there’s no laws, well, that means no incest laws either…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“Gross,” Sarah said with a laugh, then paused, a thought occurring to her. 

“Can I film it?”

---

Author's Note:

Thanks for reading! Any suggestions for what could be on the week's program?

  Shelves of shitty gas station junk food mocked the listless attendant. Gaden drummed his fingers on the counter. His mind wandered to the cigarettes in his lunch box. It was still an hour before lunch. He had already done the morning chores. All that was left was to wait for the popcorn machine to finish cooking. The place was completely understaffed, which meant his lunch would be ten minutes tops. Someone had to man the cash register. It was days like those that made him miss Tatsu. His coworker had disappeared three weeks prior. The management did not seem to care. Then again, they hardly paid attention to their workers to begin with.

  The worst part about the disappearance of his friend was that Gaden had lost his chance to fuck the bastard. He had not wanted to make it weird. Just the thought made his dick hard. Tatsu was a sexy, Japanese twink. His short hair and pouty lips were tempting. His ass was soft. Juicy. Gaden had seen his cock bulging in their work uniform on numerous occasions. It would have been perfect… but he did not want to make things weird. So he waited. Delayed. Now it was too late.

  Gaden laid his head on the counter. The cool wood would have been nice, were it not for the fact that it was a reminder of his boredom. If there was at least a pissy customer, then maybe he could get some action. Would it be overkill to call the store’s new security team in to deal with a Karen? Almost certainly. It would mean getting to look at sexy twinks and hunks as they apprehended the theoretical pain in the ass.

  DarkSaver ads made them seem all the more tempting. They were split into two camps. The meatheads were all buff as hell, with far more muscle than brain. Their thighs were thick enough to crush a watermelon. Their arms were laced with enough muscle to make it impossible to wear much more than a tank top. Each one had washboard abs and fat tits that Gaden wanted to bury his face in. He moaned softly under his breath and stroked his dick through his shorts.

  Then there was the intelligence team. They were trained in working with cameras, phones, and computers in order to gather evidence. Gaden had his doubts. There were not exactly news stories of peaceful successes. All they looked like was a dumb gang of twinks. Sexy little bastards with skinny waists and fat asses. The kind that could look innocent, but were too bratty to be anything close. They had similarly large bulges in their skimpy outfits as the meatheads. If they were actually smart, they would have better jobs. Not working for a cruel, violent company that did little to hide just how horny they were for putting their enemies in the ground.

  A uniform Gaden would have loved to see Tatsu in. Fuck. Son of a bitch. He pulled his phone from his pocket and peeked at it under the table so the cameras could not see it. His thumb shook as he opened his messages. Tatsu had not even opened his messages in a week. 

  The security team had only come to the store once to handle the rising gang population nearby. A shame, really, because Gaden regularly fantasized about pinning those meat heads down and pounding them silly. Beads of precum made a stain on his shorts. He was just a second from orgasm when the front door swung open. “Put your hands in the fucking air!”

 Gaden yelped. He flung his hands up, eyes wide. In stalked a handful of men. They wore casual clothes. Hoodies and jeans, most of which were tugged down to reveal the tops of their underwear. All of them brandished guns. Tattoos littered their skin. Muscles, where visible, rippled with every move. They were tight and sinewy. A lean, fit look. Some were scarred. Trophies from other fights that they wore with pride. Their leader, the man who spoke, had a cocky look in his amber gaze. His chocolate skin was slick with sweat. He had nice pecs that pressed against his black hoodie. The bastard was young. Spunky. Too cocky for his own damn good. A tiny splurt of precum escaped Gaden from just how much of a stud the leader was. He aimed his gun at Gaden.

  “Alright. Cough up the cash. I know you got a safe under the counter. Gimme all the money or you’re toast.”

  Gaden paled. He choked up a bit. A fresh splurt of precum made his dick ache for more. Gaden managed to kick a small, hidden button to trigger a silent alarm. DarkSaver would arrive soon. He swallowed before he finally managed to respond. “My boss doesn’t give me access to it. I can’t help you, man.”

  “Bullshit. I know you fuckin’ with me. Either gimme the fuckin’ money, or I’ll blow your damn head off.”

  “I’m telling you! I don’t have the key. The manager does, and he said I’m not responsible enough to have it! I can give you what’s in the cash register if you want? But– That’s like twenty bucks.” Twenty bucks Gaden would have to pay the store back if he lost it. Twenty bucks Gaden did not have. “Sorry?”

  “Sorry ain’t fuckin’ enough!” The gangster waved his gun around. Gaden flinched back, biting his tongue. “Neither’s twenty. Safe. Now.”

  A rumble outside was enough distraction to pull the gangster’s gaze away from Gaden. His heart skipped a beat when he saw them. “DarkSaver!”

  The truck that pulled up was painted solid black. A white logo was stamped over their name and number. It much resembled Superman’s logo. The main difference was that the lines inside were shaped into a D and S. Out piled a cluster of buff meat heads. They wore only a bulletproof vest, sungas tight enough to clutch their asses and thick bulges, and hefty combat boots. A couple donned black masks that covered little more than their noses and mouths. Behind them came a couple of twinks in similar attire. Their bubble butts betrayed narrowed eyes that spoke business. Someone had to be the brains of an operation, if one could call average intelligence brains.

  One of the DarkSaver men led the way into the store. His crew funneled in behind. The man was tall and thin. Muscle was packed into his slim-fit form. He wore sunglasses inside. A balaclava covered the rest of his face. A chiseled jaw was set tight. He was dressed in that stupid, sexy uniform. It covered almost nothing. Gaden’s breath caught in his throat at the sight. Hooded, brown eyes dug daggers into the lead gangster. A scowl played on pouty lips. One hand loosely clutched a gun. 

  “This is our territory.” Donny pointed his gun, upside down, at Gaden. The clerk wanted to point out that that was actually less helpful. It would make him inaccurate, and it made him look like a dumbass. Unfortunately, Gaden valued his life more than pointing out the obvious. Donny stepped toward the DarkSaver crew. “We own this part of town. No shit ass crackers gonna drive us off. What are ya? Pansies? Thinking you can waltz in and scare us off cause you got your tits out? Asking to be fucked in the ass wearing shit like that. Get outa here before I blow this guy’s head off.”

  The leader of the DarkSavers scoffed. “Try it! What’s another body for the processing center?”

  Time stopped. Gaden’s eyes widened. He recognized that voice. Tatsu. The bastard had abandoned him to go work at a place full of sexy men. It certainly paid better. Then he threw Gaden under the bus. To top it off, Tatsu did not even have the balls to tell him. His chest twisted. He put a hand over his mouth as he struggled to breathe. The gas station put him through hell, and Tatsu got to go play hero with other men.

  Donny gaped as the DarkSaver crew laughed. “You– You shut the fuck up!”

  Gaden swallowed. Hard. He wrung his fingers as he stared at the DarkSaver crew. Why had they not done anything yet? If only he had telepathic powers. Then he would be begging the security personnel to do their damn job. Tensions were getting thicker by the second.

  “Real smooth. You’re soooo scary. I’m pissing my pants! Whatever will I do?” One of the DarkSaver grunts laughed as he slipped the gangsters off. “You dumbasses should run while you have the chance. We’re being nice, giving you a chance to live.”

  “Nice?” It was a gangster grunt that cut in. “You bastards think you own this place? You the stupid ones. The boss is gonna set your damn houses on fire.”

  The verbal war kept amping up. Gaden backed himself up against the back wall. Sweat dripped down his neck. He glanced around for something, anything he could use to defend himself. Nothing. His gaze landed on the popcorn maker, and his stomach sank. “Oh no.”

  Gaden lunged to turn the machine off, but it was too late. The first pop was loud. The second, louder. One of the gangsters was too on edge to think. He let loose a spray of bullets in pure panic. They sprayed over DarkSaver grunts’ shoulders and ricochetted off food shelves. A bag of chips exploded and sprayed one of the security men, who screamed. The last bullet burrowed, dead center, into a twink’s belly button. Poor bastard dropped like a sack of potatoes. Pissed, one of the DarkSaver men shot at the crowd of gang members. It was chaos after that. A cacophony of gunfire and slinging bullets filled the room.

  The first man to drop was a gangster who was flung into the wall beside Gaden. He yelped and leapt away. The gangster, a blonde twunk with a scar over his lips, lifted his gun as if it would defend him in some way. Then a spray of bullets riddled his chest and belly. It created a chasm and sent his guts spilling out with cartoonish abandon. His eyes rolled back, and his hips jerked forward. The bastard was cumming. Hard. It squirted up out of his sagging pants and mixed with the stew of organs.

  Gaden leapt to the counter. He clutched it with bulging eyes and ducked under. Bullets carved through the wood to his left, then to his right. They created a ring around his body that kept him curled in a ball. There was a thump as the wood panel plopped to the ground behind him. He peered back with a whimper.

  There was one of the gangers. He strode up to two DarkSaver twinks, not caring as they aimed semi-automatics at his chest. They screamed. Their guns roared. Bullets ripped through the ganger. The towering, black hunk grabbed them by their throats. His bulky hands held them up with terrifying ease. He dangled them in the air. The ganger was strong enough that they started to choke. They kicked and thrashed in a panic. Their guns crashed to the floor as they clawed at the hunk’s wrists, desperate for freedom. Nails left bloody streaks in their wake. Bubbles of spit rolled off their lips as their faces started turning a sickening shade of purple. Orange hair clung to their foreheads. Matching freckles revealed all. Twin whores with fat cocks and panicked, green eyes.

  The ganger’s fingers dug in deeper. Both twinks were getting harder by the second. Their tight, black, latex thongs strained with the size of their cocks. Blood mixed with their precum. Much of it had splashed up from the ganger’s ruined six-pack. They were a perfect match, even down to the way their balls twitched with each dying breath. It was getting harder and harder for them to grip his wrists. The ganger gritted his teeth. Blood pooled in his lips as his intestines were shredded. His muscles flexed. He tightened his six-pack as if that might somehow save him. There was a tear as one of the bullets cut through his belt. His pants fell to his ankles, and out popped a monstrous hog.

  The twins' eyes rolled back. Even their choking gurgles matched in tone and pace. The strain on their throats became too much. Cartilage popped as their tracheas tore. Their guns fell, and they went limp. A moment later, they came. Thick bubbles of spunk pushed through the holes in the fabric. It burbled down their legs. Some squirted out the top. The twins’ tongues lolled out. Even as they died, they thrashed. Bodies fighting for a life they would never save.

  The ganger dropped his prey into a puddle of blood and cum. He stumbled back. His wrecked abs undulated, desperate to hold themselves together. His fingers hooked into his spilling guts. They were slimy with gore. Chunks of them came loose all over his digits. He stumbled a bit, then crashed to the ground beside the twins. His fat, juicy ass was parked in the air. It practically begged to be fucked. The ganger’s eyes rolled back. He screamed in agony as he came. Thick globs of spunk became indistinguishable with his sea of insides-made-outsides. His hips thrust uselessly into the air. Wave after wave of cum drenched him. He babbled some, then fell limp.

  Gaden’s dick twitched. Precum bubbled at the tip. He knew he needed to hide, but all of the sexy, dying men were getting harder and harder to resist. He stared out from the hole in the desk. Watching. Waiting. Hoping to pounce on one of the corpses without joining them in death.

  Tatsu stormed into the fray with a massive machine gun. His muscles strained against the weight of it. His thick, Asian cock bounced with the bullets raining out. They sprayed in all directions. Some exploded into the security cameras. Others tore through the clothes of the gangers and DarkSaver men alike. Sweatshirts tore to reveal washboard abs and tight bellies. Saggy pants were turned to fabric scrap that covered little more than their dicks, assuming they managed to stay up enough to cover anything at all. Several men had their heads popped open. It would have been more impressive were it not for half of those men being subjects of friendly fire.

  Donny snuck toward Tatsu from behind. It was not difficult with just how loud the machine gun was. He was about to lunge when a DarkSaver grunt called out, “Hey!”

  The grunt flung a large knife from his belt. It burrowed into Donny’s chest. His eyes bulged. He stumbled left, then right. A second later, he dropped. Donny landed with a thump only a few feet from where Gaden hid. Blood blossomed like a flower around the blade. The ganger gurgled as he desperately gripped the hilt. “F-Fuck…”

  Gaden grabbed Donny by the ankle and tugged him under the counter. The ganger yelped. Sudden movement made the knife jerk in his chest. It dug in deeper. Tore more flesh. It had lodged between two ribs just under his heart. Any sudden movement had a chance of fatality. Gaden bit his lip. He pulled Donny’s legs into his lap and yanked his pants free. It helped that they were already half way down his ass. The ganger’s cock strained against his briefs. Beads of precum stained the tent. Gaden freed the beast and moaned when the massive shlong bounced to life.

  “What’re you doing, man?” Donny hissed. He kicked his legs in a pathetic attempt to free himself, only to yelp when it caused the knife to inch closer to his heart. “Stop! Let me go. Sh… Shit… If you fuck me, it’s gonna pop my ticker!”

  Gaden was about to reply when his eyes caught a glimmer. He spread Donny’s cheeks. Tucked inside was a butt plug. It was tipped with faux ruby. Gaden grinned. He pressed the toy deeper into his prey. “What’s this? Getting yourself ready for someone? How cute. Shame, though, because you’re going to have to settle for me.”

  “No– No, please…” The ganger whined. “I don’t wanna…”

  “You were so brave earlier. Where’d all your bravado go? Or were you just a pussy ass bitch from the start?” Gaden hooked his fingers around the plug and tugged it free. Donny could not help but moan. A thick splurt of precum shot out of him. Gaden whistled. “Damn. This thing is huge. You’re gaping down here. I don’t know what freak you’re fucking to get stretched out like this, but I’m more than happy to fill that hole.”

  Donny gurgled. He weakly slapped at Gaden as he was tugged closer. The knife was distracting enough, but he was slowly losing energy from blood loss. Bullets had already riddled his chocolate abs. They glistened with streams of blood. Occasionally, the tight muscle twitched. Blood loss was a bitch. “Please. I don’t wanna die… At least take the knife out or– or something. Gh–”

  The ganger had to stop to hack up blood, which only drifted the blade closer to his heart. Another squirt of precum splattered on his legs. Gaden pressed his dick against that gaping, pulsing entrance. He stroked Donny’s cock at an agonizingly slow pace. There was just a second where the ganger was a whimpering mess. Then he screamed when Gaden shoved his full length in with one stroke. His eyes bulged. He gripped Gaden for dear life.

  There was something thrilling about how each powerful thrust had the chance to drive the knife into Donny’s heart. He was not the only one drooling precum. Gaden groaned as he stuffed inch after inch into that burning rump. Donny’s body clamped down hard. It milked him with powerful muscle, as if holding tight could stop the blood flowing from his body. As if clenching could keep the knife in place. The store clerk pounded harder with every thrust. All around him was a movie of violence. Tatsu especially drew Gaden’s eye. He had dropped his machine gun after a wave of bullets ripped through his arms and legs. The DarkSaver traitor was being torn to shreds.

  “Shit… You’re sucking me in. Such a slut– What the fuck!?” Gaden yelped.

  A DarkSaver grunt had landed on the counter above them. He was a lithe little twink with blue eyes and blood-soaked, blonde hair. Only the slightest bit of muscle showed under his pale skin. His skin-tight shorts, if one could call something so short anything but a thong, bulged. The twink leveled his gun at the two of them. He gritted pearly, white teeth. Gaden threw his hands in the air. His eyes were wide with terror. Donny was hardly better. All he could do was whimper.

  The twink opened his mouth to speak. He was wild with bloodlust. His finger tightened on the trigger. “You–”

  A bullet whizzed through the air above the counter. It cleaved a gaping hole through the twink’s throat. He dropped his gun and instinctively clutched the wound. His body swayed. The twink’s dick bounced free of his pants as he went toppling off the counter. All of his weight slammed down on the blade. There was a distinct squelch as it punched into Donny’s heart. The ganger screamed. His eyes rolled back as his whole body convulsed.
‘
  Donny jerked. His ass clenched down hard. It was a vice around Gaden’s cock. Then he came. The ganger’s orgasm was a fountain. He sprayed cum all over himself and the grunt. Every wave of pleasure was punctuated with another squeeze. Gaden thrust frantically. The deathgasm made everything all the more intense. It was his lucky day. He could feel himself getting closer by the second, especially when Donny’s body curled in on himself, and his ass clenched as tight as those powerful muscles could manage.

  “Fuck… I’m close… Who knew a punk like you could actually be good for something.” Gaden gripped Donny’s legs. He slammed inside one more time, which made another burst of cum squirt out of his prey. The ganger’s ass was so tight that it was difficult to pull out. Gaden managed it with a wet pop. He was drenched in precum and blood. “Shit! Come here, you stupid bastard.”

  Gaden grabbed the DarkSaver twink’s hair. He slammed his cock down his throat. The tip was visible through the gaping hole in his neck. It only took a couple thrusts into that tight, little throat for Gaden to reach his limits. He came. Hard. Thick ropes pumped down the twink’s throat. Most of it shot clean through the bullet wound. It soaked his chest and clogged up the hole. Gaden moaned as he held the twink down to his hips. That moment was when the DarkSaver grunt died. Another explosive orgasm filled the air. A fountain of cum made the stuff that squirted from his ragged throat seem like hardly anything at all.

  There was a long moment where Gaden bathed in the pleasure of two squirming, twitching corpses underneath him. Then he pulled out. The last little squirt of cum stained the DarkSaver grunt’s face. He sighed and sat back. Things were coming to a close. Gaden’s eyes widened as he watched one of the last few gangers fling himself at Tatsu. The traitor cried out in fear. “Shit!!”

  The ganger spun his pocket knife between his fingers. It glittered in the humming light. He carved into Tatsu’s belly, dragging a sizable line across the flesh. Tatsu stumbled. He gathered his spilling guts in trembling hands. Cords of intestine spilled out around his fingers. He snatched them up, then slammed his shoulder into his foe. Tatsu wrapped the bloody guts around the ganger’s throat. Once around would have torn them, but enough had come out that he could wrap him several times.

  Tatsu choked out the ganger. Both the DarkSaver and Ganger men fell to the ground. They rolled over each other. Fought for power. The ganger’s bouncing cock, steel hard, rubbed against his foe’s dripping bulge. He faltered. His arms gave out while he was on top of Tatsu. A second later, he came. Spunk sprayed both of their chests. It soaked the bulletproof vest and created a puddle around Tatsu.

  It took Gaden a moment to realize that all had gone quiet. He gazed up at the room. It was a bloodbath. Corpses were littered in all directions. Some were draped over shelves. Two were mid-wrestle on the counter before their brains had been blown out. Another had his head through the freezer glass. Almost every single one was naked. Blood was not the only thing pooling on the ground. A significant amount of semen created an ocean of bodily fluids. More than one man had taken a shot to the nuts. In fact, a significant number had. More than was reasonable. Very few men died in any normal way. All of it was nut shots, stabbings, and scuffles in places where they should not have been.

  DarkSaver still had several men alive. Barely. All of the gangers had been slaughtered. Gaden stumbled over to one such survivor. Then again, Tatsu could hardly be called a survivor. He wheezed, a bubble of blood popping on his lips. The poor bastard was on his knees. “Gaden… C… Call the company. They got medics they’ll send for us. Extra ones. Ours kinda died.”

  Gaden stared down at his friend. His dick ached. It popped back up as he stared down at those bloody pecs. He swallowed hard. “I don’t think you’re gonna make it, man.”

  “No, no. I’m good. I promise. Just… Gh…” Tatsu shoveled some of his guts back inside, only for them to tumble back to the floor. “The medic team’s gonna stitch me up. None of the organs are ruptured, so it’s fine. Just– be quick.”

  “I dunno, man. You left me to deal with this shit-ass job by myself, and they docked my pay because they said this location wasn’t making as much. You didn’t even bother to tell me. Then, when some shit head aims a gun in my face, you tell him to kill me. So.” Gaden kicked Tatsu onto his side. “How about I fuck you, and if you live, I’ll call the medics.”

  “Wh– Hey! N-no! Hold on. Come on, man, we worked together for years. You don’t gotta do this.”

  Despite his protests, Tatsu’s legs spread. His dick was just as hard as Gaden’s. He whimpered. Thick beads of precum hit his chest. Gaden dropped between his legs. They hooked around his hips and tugged him in before he could protest. He scooped up a fistful of intestine. “One, you really think you can survive this? You’re dumber than I thought. Look at all the blood. Two, you coulda given them a recommendation. Then we’d still be working together. So get off your high horse and take my dick.”

  Tatsu whimpered as Gaden spread his ass with one hand. The other wrapped his intestines around the cashier’s cock. He shook his head no. “Gaden. Please. I promise I’ll– Fuck!”

  Gaden drove himself in deep. He stuffed every inch of his cock inside with one stroke. Blood made excellent lubricant, even if the squished organs added some resistance. Less than Gaden had expected. He pounded Tatsu slow and hard. Each thrust was more cruel than the last. His fingers wrapped around his friend’s neck. “Fuck… Look, I’m not gonna lie. I’m mostly making up excuses. You’re hot as fuck like this. I can’t help it. I have to fuck you.”

  Tatsu could not respond. He choked. His chest seized as he sucked uselessly for oxygen. Gaden snorted. Underneath the twitching insides, he could see the tip of his cock. Tatsu instinctively groped at the wound. His fingers brushed against that throbbing head. A gasp escaped the cashier. He found himself moving faster, more on animalistic desire than anything resembling human thought.

  “Shit, you’re clenching so tight… I’m gonna cum so hard, it’ll go right through your belly. Just– Gh… Try to cum with me, yeah? Then you’ll feel good when you die.” Gaden moaned. His pace had turned frantic. Tatsu’s throat strained under his grip. Nails dug into the soft throat flesh. “Walking around like a slut all the time. You were asking for this. Stupid fucking whore.”

  Tatsu’s face turned a sickly shade of purple. His hips bucked. He clawed at Gaden’s fingers but he was too weak. Had lost too much blood. Tatsu’s eyes rolled back. Blood foamed from his lips and nose. Every thrust made his insides bounce. More of them spilled out by the second. They sloshed this way and that. When he realized his death was inevitable, he managed to get one of his hands down around his own cock. His stroking was weak. Too slow to match the desperate pace. Still, he tried. Cum throbbed in both of them.

  There was a particularly large gasp. A sputter. Tatsu’s whole body jerked in on itself. His ass clenched like a vice on Gaden. Pure euphoria sparked in his vision. Gaden howled his pleasure. He slammed himself to the root and came. His tip bulged from the sea of organs. Most of his cum pooled inside. It tangled with the bloody slush. Some of it went further, though. It squirted all over Tatsu’s pretty little face. Cum speckled his lips and forehead. It splattered onto his pecs.

  The DarkSaver worker twitched just a little. His whole body erupted into spasms as he was driven over the edge. He babbled wordlessly. Cum sprayed like a firehose. It was enough to make his balls shudder. His eyes rolled wildly. Tatsu’s body made one last fight for life as he had the most powerful orgasm of his life. Wave after wave, shock after shock. Cum and pleasure and nothing but the subtle twitches of a man who had reached his limit.

  Gaden pulled out. He sprayed his last few ropes on Tatsu’s ass. His gaze raked over the store. “What a fuckin’ mess… And the security cameras too? Shit. The boss is gonna kill me if I don’t get this cleaned up. Lawsuit waiting to happen…”

  The few who survived were in no better of a state than Tatsu had been. Gaden pushed to his feet on wobbly legs. He was about to go to the janitor’s closet when he stopped. A devilish grin played on his lips. There was no use wasting perfectly good fuck meat.

This is a loose sequel to my previous story https://old.reddit.com/r/GuroErotica/comments/1vwa5c9/the_pussyoff_party_no_death_consensual/ . You don't have to read it to understand what's going on but if you like this one, you'll probably like that one too, so you might as well.

This wasn't the first time Mia had developed a crush on someone at the gym, but it was the first time the object of her lust had been another girl. Even though this girl always seemed to be there at the same times, Mia had been too shy to say hi or ask her name. She was so pretty. Every curve of her body was so elegant, the proportions of her waist to her butt seemed almost impossible. But there was one feature that always caught Mia's eye. A vertical scar, peeking out from her leggings and ending at her belly button.

Mia knew it would be rude to ask what the scar was from, but it didn't stop her imagination. She'd had a weird kink for years about women getting their cunts removed, always imagining herself as the woman. Every once in a while, it would pop back into her brain, usually after a bad experience with the owner of a dick, which happened frequently, and she'd go down a rabbit hole that took her to the darkest corners of the internet. She'd found a few images and stories over the years, about women who had all their sex organs removed and the hole sewn shut, but she assumed them all to be fake. She had even, at one point, bought an AI subscription under a fake email address using a gift card bought with cash, so that she could alter her own nudes to look like she'd been nullified. It was the kind of thing she would never admit to her shrink.

And it would be rude to ask this girl, especially since the scar was certainly from something else.

One day, her crush was in the shower when she finished her workout. She caught a quick glance, careful not to stare. She didn't get a good enough look to tell for sure, but it looked like the scar went down further than what she could see peeking from the leggings.

The next time she went, the woman with the scar was once again showering when she walked into the locker room. Her furtive glance was still inadequate to really tell how far the scar went.

She heard the sound of the water stop.

"You can come closer and take a look. I'm not going to bite."

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." Mia apologized, looking away

"You didn't mean to walk into the locker room 20 minutes after you got here, right as I got in the shower? Come on! Have a look. I know you want to!"

Mia turned around to face the woman. She was leaning against the back of the shower, spreading her legs wide to give a better view.

It was exactly what Mia had imagined. A scar ran from her belly button to her asshole, and nothing else was between her legs, save for a small hole around where her clitoris would have been.

"Hi, I'm Bella" The girl smiled, waving.

"M... Mia... I'm Mia. Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to stare. This is so embarrassing but... If you don't mind me asking, what happened to you?"

"No, not at all" Bella replied "Nothing happened to me, per se, I sought out this surgery for years. My vagina was removed, as well as my uterus, ovaries, and pretty much everything down there except my bladder and peehole."

"That's... uhh... wow... that's... cool" Mia stammered

"Thanks! Not many people would describe it that way. How about we grab some tea and I'll tell you all about it. I can tell you're curious from the way you've been staring at me. But first, you should shower. I guess you're probably not too sweaty after your 20 minute workout, but you got to see all of me so it's only fair I do the same."

Mia showered and got dressed while Bella ogled her body. They got tea together, while Bella told Mia as much of her story as she was allowed to divulge. Eventually they moved from the tea place to Bella's apartment. She told Mia of how she had first inquired about the surgery when she went to her OBGYN two days after her 18th birthday, and barely avoided a trip to the psych ward. Of how she had entered a relationship with a dominant couple who kept her as their oral-only sex slave. How, after some nudging on her part, they took her to a shady dentist to have all her teeth pulled so she could better perform. After that, she pushed their buttons until they punished her by ordering her never to cum or touch her pussy for the rest of her life. Of course, this was her idea, in the hopes that they would enforce the vow with corrective surgery when she broke it over and over again, but they balked at the cost. To remove all her sex organs would have taken multiple surgeries over many years in the past, but a handful of surgeons in recent years had developed a procedure to remove everything in one go without the need for follow up procedures. She told Bella of how, three years ago, when she had all but given up, a man -not just any man, but the 12th richest man in the world- approached her and offered to pay for the surgery. She didn't mention anything about the party where it happened. Not only was she not allowed to, but at this point, there was a wait list even after expanding to 10 participants. As evening turned to night, she told Mia of how her masters started acting weird after the surgery, trying to pressure her to use male pronouns, go on T, cut her hair short and have top surgery. She absolutely did not want those things, since she, despite her lack of female sex organs, very much saw herself as a woman, so they broke up.

Then she dropped the line she'd been carefully saving all evening.

"And besides, if I did transition into a man, the museum would take down my exhibit. It's very specifically women's pussies only."

"The WHAT?"

Bella acted like she just said something she wasn't allowed to.

"Ok so..." Bella paused "You can NOT tell anyone you heard this from me, but the guy who paid for the surgery, Kenneth, he has a kind of museum in his house where he displays all the vaginas... well really the whole reproductive system, that he's paid to have taken out. Kind of like a trophy room."

"Holy shit!" Mia responded "That's an actual thing?"

"Again, you did not hear that from me."

"That sounds kinda hot. I'd love to see it."

"Heh, well, it's not really open to the public. If he let you in that room to see it, you wouldn't have a pussy anymore when you got home."

Mia's heart raced, and Bella took this as a cue to slide her hands into Mia's soaked yoga pants. Mia had never been with a woman, but Bella was able to make her cum over and over again with her toothless mouth. The whole time, Mia imagined what that room must look like, and she imagined what would happen to her if she were caught sneaking in.

The next day, Mia slept until noon. She was awoken by a knock on her door. When she answered, nobody was there, but she saw a small business card slid under the door. On one side, it said "The Museum". On the other side was an address, and a hand written note. "Tuesday. 3 PM" The address was about 5 hours away, in a gated neighborhood that was blurred on Google street view. She tossed the card aside. A fantasy was one thing, but it would be insane for her to actually go. She got back in bed and masturbated.

Tuesday, 2:52 PM

Mia had beaten the time on her GPS by 8 minutes. The gate to the neighborhood opened for her and she found the address. A guard opened the gate without speaking and let her in, down a driveway that must have been a mile long. She parked in front of the biggest house she had seen in her life, and a man in a suit, as if he was waiting for her, let her in the front door. Awaiting her inside was someone she recognized. Kenneth Collins, a tech founder who, according to a search she had done last night, was worth about $150 billion. He was shorter than she expected, but had the skin and hair of a 25 year old, even though he was 57.

"Hi Mia, Kenny, Nice to meet you. I hear you were interested in seeing my collection."

How did he know her name?

He led her down hallway after winding hallway, name dropping the famous artists of all the paintings they passed on the way. Finally, he pulled a lever on a bookcase, and a hidden door opened.

The series of hidden rooms smelled of air freshener with a hint of formaldehyde. A circular room in the center contained 11 podiums arranged along the wall. Each of them had screens in front of and behind them, and had a jar containing an object floating in liquid. The identity of the object was unmistakable, though Mia had never dreamed she would see it in person. Each one contained a severed human cunt, with the uterus and ovaries still attached.

Mouth almost falling to the floor, she was drawn to the third display from the left. She looked at the woman on the screens behind the jar. It was Bella. Each screen showed a series of rotating images. On the left screen, Bella was nude, in a series of seductive poses that focused on her vagina. To the right, she made identical poses, but with the familiar vertical scar where her vagina had been. The last pair of images had her holding the jar. Empty on one side and full on the other. She looked closer at the organs themselves. The opening was held gaping unnaturally wide by thin wires.

"If you look closely" Kenny explained "You can see that the hymen is intact."

Mia then moved to the next display on the right. This woman had the largest clit she had ever seen. Well, used to have. It must have been 2 inches long. The woman in the images was a bodybuilder. She was flexing her muscles with and without a pussy. The screen rotated to the next images. Now, on the left, she had sucked her entire clit into a vacuum tube. On the right, she held the same tube and looked as if she was confused about where to put it now that her clit was gone. In the next image, she was doing a squat while lifting 5 lb weights from clamps attached to each of her inner labia, while on the other screen, she did the same pose while looking at the weights and clamps sitting lifelessly on the floor, making an exaggerated face of annoyance that they had nothing to clip to. In the next image, she was holding an empty jar on the left, while on the right, the jar held her pussy while her crotch was empty. That was the one set of images that every display had in common.

Moving to the next one, this woman had large, shapely breasts with pierced nipples and her auburn hair in a pair of braids that hung to her waist on the left screen. On the right, she was bald, and her breasts replaced by two horizontal scars, perpendicular to the one where her vagina had been. She held the severed braids like a whip.

"Whoa, uhh... you're not going to..."

"Oh the tits and the electrolysis?" Kenny waved her off "No, of course not. I have no use for that stuff. She specifically requested that as part of the deal. She's a dominatrix. A findomme to be exact. There are a lot of men who will pay a LOT of money to be denied that intensely. Perhaps something to consider if you're still between jobs for a while.

How did he know she was currently unemployed?

Mia noticed that the stand on the far right only had one screen, showing a heavily tattooed Asian woman with her cunt still intact, grinning widely, though the jar had the same contents as all the others.

"What's the deal with that one? It doesn't have the after pictures" Mia asked.

"That's my newest specimen. It was collected about six weeks ago and the after pictures haven't been taken yet. We have to wait until she is fully healed. I'm not sure if you noticed, but there are also videos on each of these displays."

He tapped the screen at the bottom of the podium and it turned on. He clicked on the first video and it began playing. The woman in the pictures sat on a chair, naked with her legs spread wide.

"Please state your name and age" Kenny's voice off screen asked.

"Cindy Cho, 32 years old"

"And could you tell us what is about to happen?"

She laughed "I'm about to lose mah poooooo-say"

She slapped her cunt hard and made a loud Thwack noise.

"Could you give a little background about why you've chosen to undergo this procedure"

"Well, my bestie Viv and I have participated in the pussy-off for the last 4 years now. Since they expanded it to 10 contestants, we felt like we should make it a little more exciting. So, we agreed that if one of us got the little scar, the other one would get the big scar. Wouldn't you know, this was finally the year when they pulled her key. Just my luck. At least she finally let me fuck her man whore. Worth it. Oh... I can barely hear the announcements from here but I think they just said they started cutting out her cervix. Do you need anything else? I want to watch this." She slipped on a chastity belt, closed a lock and the video ended.

Mia looked at Kenny confused. "I have no idea what half of that means."

"You don't need to." he dismissed her "Well, the big scar little scar thing. There are two versions of the surgery. One that leaves behind minimal scarring and a smooth crotch similar to a Barbie doll. That's the little scar. Unfortunately, everything has to come out in pieces and winds up looking like minced meat. Doesn't look good in a display. The other way, the so-called big scar, gets everything out in one piece, but it has to come out through the abdomen and leaves behind a much more significant scar. That's what everyone in this room got."

Kenny clicked on the next video. It showed the part of the surgery where the doctor pulled out all of Cindy's bits in one piece. All those nights Mia spent trying to find so much as a hint of this on the dark web, convinced it wasn't even possible, and yet here it was, very much real, and there were 10 more just like it.

Mia looked to her right and noticed a podium with no lights or screens and an empty jar.

Kenny smiled. "That's where yours will go".

The gravity of the situation suddenly hit Mia as she remembered what Bella warned her would happen if she went here.

"So... umm... What would happen if I tried to leave?" she asked Kenny, expecting to be hauled off by some unseen henchman at any time.

"I would show you the way to the front door. Your car is still parked outside."

"Oh" Mia said with relief and laughed a little "Bella told me that any woman who went in this room would lose her pussy"

"Well if that's exactly how she worded it, then I'm afraid you were lied to. Feel free to look at the rest of the exhibits, since you traveled all this way."

"So I can look at this and walk out of the house with a pussy?"

"Look" he responded "Any psychopath can take body parts. There's another centibillionaire with a much larger and more diverse collection of human feet. But without the context, there is no proof he didn't just pay some goon to go around hacking people's feet off, or buy them from the morgue. Lots of monsters throughout history have done that, and on a greater scale. King Leopold's ghost looks up at his meager collection and laughs. What makes my collection special is that nothing in this room was taken. Every single piece you see was willingly donated. And to be pedantic, you absolutely will walk out of this house with a pussy." he paused, watching her reaction closely "Your surgery will take place at 8 AM tomorrow at a private clinic about 20 miles from here. Unfortunately I can't offer you anything from my chef because you will need to fast before such a major procedure."

Mia froze, but she didn't move towards the exit. Kenny continued.

"Anyway, I will need you to sign an NDA. You will be compensated very generously, but if you go to the media with anything you have seen today, the terms laid out in the agreement will make Zuckerberg's treatment of whistleblowers look magnanimous. Sign here."

He handed Mia an iPad. She clicked the box to sign the paperwork without reading it.

"Fee free to have a look around while I get the camera set up. I'm a bit of a photography enthusiast so I am going to take these photos myself. It'll take about half an hour before I'm ready. First, though, Take your clothes off."

Mia unzipped her jeans and pulled them down, then removed her shirt, bra and panties and folded them in a stack.

"Hmm, you want to be clean shaven for these photos. There is a bathroom to your right with everything you'll need."

"Yes sir" she responded, as if mesmerized.

Mia shaved herself and then looked at the rest of the exhibits while Kenny set the cameras up, unbothered by the fact that she was naked in front of a man she had just met. She made no effort to approach the exit, instead closely examining the exhibit that was donated by a mother of 10.

Kenny set up the cameras and instructed her how to pose. First, she made some sexy poses that pointed vulva to the lens. Then he had her pose with props. She held a dry erase eraser above her groin while winking. Then she posed in an open trench coat as if she was flashing someone. Finally, she posed holding the jar that would be the final resting place of her womanhood.

Later that night, Mia lay in bed in the guest house, which was the second largest house she had ever set foot inside. Unable to fall asleep, she began to masturbate again, when she heard a knock on the door.

It was Bella.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm going to give your pussy a proper send off"

When the driver arrived at 5:30 to inform Mia that they would be heading to the clinic in 15 minutes, they were both still awake, drenched in cum, sweat and saliva. He sniffed the air and asked Mia to take a quick shower. Bella joined her. After all, that's where they first met.

6 months later

Mia arrived at the estate right on time for her appointment to take the after photos. She had healed very nicely and was excited to see her pussy for the first time in 6 months. Kenny was running late. Mia made her way to the hidden room and removed her shirt, jeans and bra. All her panties had long since gone in the trash at the same time she threw away her tampons, pads, pregnancy tests and all of her toys that she didn't intend to put in her ass. She had watched the video of her cunt being removed on repeat for half an hour when he arrived, achieving orgasm after orgasm in a manner that hadn't existed to her six months ago. She repeated all the poses she had made before, but with small twists. Pretending to have erased her pussy. Holding the trench coat open and looking wistfully downward as if she had just remembered that there was nothing between her legs to flash. Proudly holding the now heavy jar, she looked at the contents, thinking about how it had spent most of her life inside of her, and all the pain, heartbreak and shitty men it attracted.

Meanwhile, Kenny looked at his tablet. The Mordor software that runs off his data centers had identified a 26 year old woman in Tucson who had made 52 searches in incognito more for pictures of nullified women, had visited the website for the surgical clinic for about 45 minutes combined between four sessions, and had generated AI images of herself without a cunt. Mia had arrived in a new Porsche and hadn't visited a single job website in the last 6 months, so he knew the $250,000 he paid her likely wouldn't last much longer.

As Mia put her clothes back on, Kenny asked her a question.

"Have you ever been to Arizona?"

“What’s the matter? I thought you said you liked it rough.”

Pain sloshed around the inside of Pavel’s skull, causing his head to loll like a balloon filled with water. The bitch had not taken it easy on him. If it had been a fair fight, she would have been the one tied to this chair and the roles reversed. What he wouldn’t give to crush that button nose under his fist. The rope knotted his fists up behind him in a way that put an inescapable sharp pressure on his shoulder blades. He found that the more he struggled, the more it hurt. The blood from his chaffed wrists turned the rope dark red where it bit his skin.

“You’re going to tell me what you did with Lucro’s money or I’m going to go into your kitchen and find something I can use to make a meal out of you,” her tone bubbled with anger.

Pavel muttered something that even he didn’t understand and received a split lip for it.

She must have slipped something in his drink back at the bar. Stupid Pavel. You should have known better than to think that a knockout like this was interested in you for you. Bogdan warned the whole crew to lay low for a few weeks and not to make the sudden influx of cash obvious to anyone: friends, family, strangers. They were being hunted by wolves, and Pavel dangled himself out in the open like a slab of fresh meat. Stupid, stupid Pavel.

If he had to venture a guess, this woman was Isabella Villani, head of security at Lucro. From what Bogdan told the crew, Villani gave up a comfortable position in the private military security sector to work for Lucro.

But that’s not the story she had given Pavel. To Pavel, she was Kristen or Kiersten or something, he couldn’t remember. Pavel’s head throbbed and pulled him back into the moment, the grim reality of what was about to happen began to settle in.

She was a tough looking woman, her soft-yet-sculpted abs and toned arms are what caught Pavel’s eye. Pavel liked someone who could put up a bit of a fight, so he put a few drinks into her, all the while failing to realize that as she fetched the drinks from the bar, she was slipping Rohypnol into his glass.

When she suggested they go back to his place for some kinky action, he didn’t imagine that he would be the one getting tied up. And certainly not to a chair. And who had sex on a chair anyway? One of those things that looks good in porn, but in actuality just becomes an absurd act between balancing while moving about as much as possible.

Pavel’s hair was yanked back and a large pistol appeared in his face. Where had she been hiding that?

“Talk you dumb son of a bitch! One of your friends will eventually give the rest of you up, why not make your last act a meaningful one?”

Pavel opened his mouth to answer, but instead of something terribly clever coming out of his mouth, all that came was a river of blood and the pebbly texture of knocked out teeth. It was a lot more blood than Pavel thought he had in his mouth. Villani barely blinked at his pain. She stood up, breathed heavily through her nose, and then broke the rest of Pavel’s teeth with the butt of her gun.

Everything flashed white. Pavel knew this was the end. Killed by a woman in his own apartment, and not even getting the luxury of getting his dick wet. Pavel hung his head, not because he did not want to stare death in the face, but because he lacked the energy to do anything else.

“Go ahead, it’s not as though this night could get much worse,” Pavel summoned some bravado with the last of his strength. He wasn’t even sure if the words left his lips, but it was a rock star thought to have on your way out of this world.

The sound of a gun cocked. Pavel felt a cold chill wash through him. He felt a warm spread in his lap and hoped that she wouldn’t notice whether had pissed his pants before or after she shot him.

The sound of a gun cocked. Again. Then another. Then there was a long moment where nothing happened at all. There was a loud pop, followed shortly by the sound of a body falling to the floor.

***

Shadows moved slowly around the room. They made noises, but filtered through the cloudy water in Pavel’s head, it all sounded like fuzz to him. He realized his shoulders no longer hurt, and his arms, though weak, were free. Slowly, the light began to return to his vision, then the fuzziness of the shadows started to sharpen.

He sat up on the sofa and felt his forehead. A few lumps and bruises, but no bullethole as far as he could find. In his living room stood a man with his back facing him. He recognized the back of Bodgan’s bald head, even through the haze of what must surely be a concussion. With him were Jack and the Volkov twins.

There was a loud cracking noise, and a laugh.

Pavel’s clobbering attempt to get to his feet caught the attention of the room. Bodgan looked at him and smiled.

“Pavel! You look like shit. Party too hard? Kidding. Kidding. Tell us about your date here,” the bald head flashed a large white smile through a thick black tangle of hair.

Bogdan must have figured it all out already. How else would he have known to come to Pavel’s apartment unless he had suspected Pavel of blowing their cover. Surely, Bogdan must have been furious at him for acting so recklessly and actually getting caught by the mad bitch from Lucro, but Bogdan seemed to be in a lighter mood than Pavel expected him to be.

“You ain’t mad at me, Bogdan?” Pavel tried his hardest not to sound like a child receiving a scolding.

“Ach- how could I be mad? I spent a bit more than I should have, too. This kind of money burns a hole in your pocket. You just got unlucky. But it’s okay. You will get lucky soon.” Bogdan winked at Pavel.

The other three stepped aside for Pavel, but they moved for Bogdan. Crumpled on the floor, Isabella Villani laid stripped of every last shred of her clothing. A fresh, shining bruise shimmered under her left eye and her neat dark hair was touselled. Her wrists were bound in rope speckled spots of blood. The light of the room accentuated her toned body so that even in this vulnerable state, she looked powerful like a cornered lioness.

Her eyes were sharp against Bogdan. She didn’t even seem to notice Pavel’s presence.

“Look at that sour face! We just told Isabella here that if she doesn’t suck all of our cocks, that we’ll cut her head off and pass it around and do it ourselves. Surely, that’ll make us a few bucks on the dark web, so in a way, you actually earned us a bit of extra cash today. Plus, we get to get our dicks wet, isn’t that right Isabella?” Bogdan grinned.

At that, Isabella pounced from the ground in a fluid and crashed her head into Jack’s sternum, he made a sound like a cough and toppled backwards over the couch. Unable to use her hands to brace herself, Isabella fell over the couch on top of him. Nikki and Andrei each grabbed an ankle and pulled her off Jack. She managed to get a good attack on each of them, she kicked one of the twins in the crotch and bit off a chunk of Jack’s ear. When they finally had her pinned, Bogdan stomped on her head hard and she stopped moving.

“Did you kill the bitch?” Jack gingerly touched the jagged remains of his ear.

Bogdan rolled her roughly onto her back like handling a sack of potatoes. Her chest rose and fell softly. Jack bent down and quickly pulled the bloody tag of skin from her lips. Her eyes fluttered open as he pulled his hand back as though he expected her to bite off another chunk of flesh.

“That’s fine, if we can’t trust you not to bite, we’ll have to stick it in another place without teeth. Though I dunno. What do you think? Does this bitch have a pussy that bites?” Everyone cackled with Bogdan.

Except for Jack, he wasn’t finding any humor in the chunk of his ear that had gone missing. He was foaming. His face has grown such a deep shade of red that you couldn’t really make out where the chunk of his ear had gone missing.

“Well if there are any, I know one way to remove them.” Jack got a walking start before delivering a hard kick between Isabella’s legs. The boot jolted her back to life and her whole body curled in on itself, her mouth oh-ing wide in a noiseless scream. Jack laid another one into her and she began retching, then she rolled over onto her side and threw up on the floor.

Disgusting. That’s what they all thought. Jack was about to deliver another kick between her legs when he was distracted by a light trickling sound. Her bladder had let loose, Jack wondered if he had ruptured it, if that was a thing that could happen. In either case, he didn’t want to get this dirty bitch’s piss on his boots, so he spit in her face instead.

“Alright, alright, let’s not fuck her up too much. She’s got a pretty face but I won’t be able to get it up if her face looks like a fucking blueberry. Nikki. Andrei. Grab her legs.”

The twins cracked her open like a wishbone. She winced in pain and her eyes widened in terror.

“You’ll all regret doing this. You think you’re in deep shit now? You put anything inside of me and I’ll make you wish you died a virgin,” Isabella snarled at the men looming above her.

Jack got on his hand and knees and knelt over her and unzipped himself. A bit cockshy in front of his friends it seemed. He slipped himself inside her and she did not react. Either Jack had a micropenis or Isabella was sending her mind to a far off happier place. He thrust against her slowly at first, then pulled out, snorted, and spit between her legs. He rubbed it inside of her in a rough, sloppy motion, pressing deeper and deeper inside until his fingers were completely inside her, then his entire fist. She groaned uncomfortably as he punched inside of her. Pavel noticed that there was a slight jiggle in her thighs as she tried to kick her legs free, and it aroused him.

Jack pulled his fist out with a pop, like uncorking a champagne bottle. He leaned over her again and slowly inserted himself.

When he built up a rhythm, he leaned over and bit her hard on the nipple. She yelped as he dug in deep and pulled the flesh as far as he could, stretching her breast nearly flat until finally releasing it. He did this to the other breast as well. Pavel was happy that he didn’t bite her nipples off as they were quite nice to look at. Large and soft and with a cute little mole by the right nipple. He wanted his turn to suck on them even after all she had put him through.

Jack finally blew his load inside of her and when he pulled out, a waterfall mixture of Jack’s spit and cum and mucus trickled down into the valley of her asshole. Pavel was suddenly not so enthusiastic to stick his dick inside of her.

Isabella’s eyes were red, but her cheeks were dry.

“Damn, when was the last time you nutted? You filled that bitch up. Go get some water and a sponge and clean that shit out.”

Jack did as Bogdan asked and washed her hole clean, making sure to use the abrasive side of the sponge when cleaning inside of her. She spasmed horribly when he did this, and though Pavel didn’t have lady parts, he imagined the green brillo must feel terrible scraping around your delicate bits. All the while, Andrei and Nikki would give an occasional hard tug on their victim’s legs when she began flailing too much.

“There’s still a bunch stuck way up inside her. You don’t think she’ll get pregnant do you?” Everyone laughed at this, even Pavel, who was still aching from the beating he had taken earlier. Bogdan, seeing the fury on Isabella’s face, made a vague promise that he would take care of it.

“Go fuck yourself!” Isabella hissed at their laughter.

Jack was satisfied that he had properly cleaned her out and was about to put the sponge back in the sink, but Pavel gave him an incredulous look and Jack thought better of it.

“Go on boss, she’s all warmed up for you,” Jack said.

Bogdan looked over at Pavel. Pavel understood this to mean that he was looking for permission to cut in line. Pavel should have had first crack at her given that the bitch had beaten him into unconsciousness after the promise of sex, but he was still trying to figure out whether he was going to rape or torture her, so he just shrugged and let Bogdan go first.

“Don’t worry. We’re saving the best for last. After what you did to Pavel, if we let him at you first, there might not be anything left for the rest of us,” Bogdan said.

Bogdan had no reason to be as shy as Jack had been, when he flopped out his cock, it demanded the attention of all the eyes in the room save for Isabella, who was busy planning the revenge she was going to take on the lot of them. So busy, in fact, that she didn’t even seem to notice that Bodgan had slipped a finger inside of her.

“Oh she’s nice and tight. Tighter than an asshole. But that’s probably how you keep your cunt so tight, isn’t it? You take it up the ass instead?” Bogdan slipped his soaking finger from her pussy and pushed it into her asshole until it was completely inside her. She furrowed her brow as a groan died in her throat. “Even tighter! How do you shit out of there? That won’t do, I’ll have to loosen you up. Pavel! You have any lube?”

Pavel thought this was a ridiculous question because he did not like anal sex, and he was not sleeping with women so old that they needed to be greased up to fuck, but it must not have seemed so strange to the others because everyone looked at him expectantly. Pavel shook his head, thought for a moment, then went to his pantry.

“No, but I have cooking oil.”

Pavel went to his kitchen and came back with a bottle of extra virgin olive oil. Bogdan looked at the bottle incredulously, shrugged, and poured a messy yellow stream over Isabella’s crotch. The oil oozed between her large, round ass. Bogdan slathered the slick liquid deep between the crack of her ass and used his finger to push as much oil into her anus as possible. This time, Isabella did not give him the satisfaction of even a grunt.

“Flip her over,” Bogdan commanded.

With a little bit of a struggle, they got Isabella on to her stomach. The sight of her buttocks coated in oil made Pavel strangely hungry. It reminded him of freshly baked bread, and his mouth began to water.

Bogdan positioned his cock, stiff as a steel beam, between the welcoming hills of her ass. When the tip of his cock kissed the deepest valley of her ass, the soft hills firmed up, squeezing together in an attempt to disallow any prevent him from entering such a sacred place. Bogdan grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled it back so hard that Pavel could hear the hairs being ripped from her scalp. Isabella made a noise that sounded like a puppy whining, an incongruous sound that made no sense coming from this proud Amazonian. At the moment Pavel thought her head might be about to pop off, Bogdan put the full force of his anger into his arm, and slammed her head into the floor. The sound of crack echoed the room, whether it was wood or bone, no one could tell.

With that, her body slackened and Bogdan slipped the full length of his cock inside her. He pumped her fast and long, with such speed that the oil he had used to lubricate her began to smell like warm bread. Every now and then, a sound came out of Isabella that sounded like it came from deep in her gut, a low sound that came from reflex rather than any emotional distress.

Bogdan finished inside of her, and when he pulled out, a mixture of blood and semen squirted from her raw asshole onto the floor and she released a breath she had been holding throughout the whole ordeal. The twins dropped her legs and one of them kicked her over onto her back. They didn’t need to hold her down any longer, all the fight had been fucked out of her.

“Go ahead, Pavel. Have your fun,” Bogdan caught his breath.

Pavel looked at the pathetic creature he was about to torture. The facade of toughness was starting to slip, Isabella’s scowl had something behind it now, a sadness that wasn’t there before. Maybe, Pavel thought, he could remove that mask entirely.

He locked eyes with her but she didn’t give him any weakness. His mind dithered between breaking her quickly or really making a meal of the process.

Pavel would let the spirit lead him. He squatted down above her and brought his face close to hers. She made a brave face, but Pavel could see the tears that had formed on the surface of her shimmering eyes.

Pavel grabbed a fistful of her hair and dragged her into the kitchen and pulled his chef’s knife from the drawer.

“Please, don’t…” she pleaded pitifully, like a whimpering puppy.

Her skin was thinner than he expected. A tough lady like Isabella should have skin like leather, but the knife sank between her ribs with ease, in fact, a bit farther than he meant to. He had to restrain his anger, he didn’t want to kill her too quickly.

Pavel continued stabbing small holes into Isabella’s skin, experimenting with different levels of pressure as he decorated her in agony.

By the end of it, Isabella’s vocabulary had been reduced to the word “please,” an apology which she hiccupped through the broken sobbing.

Pavel stood above her, straddling her, and admiring his handiwork.

She barely resisted the humiliation and completely lacked the strength to resist any further punishment, the fighting spirit in her had been exorcised.

There was a silence now, except for the shuddering whimpers coming from the living room floor.

Pavel kicked her in the ribs hard, knocking the wind from her. She started to scream but Pavel dropped his full weight onto her chest which caused blood to spray from the slits on her chest like a demonic water fountain. Isabella began to retch and seemed as though she was prepared to vomit, but Pavel wrapped his hands around her throat and began to squeeze with all his might.

He felt a red anger behind his eyes. His teeth gnashed against each other as he throttled this once beautiful woman. This goddess who he thought he would wake up next to in the morning, share coffee with, and fuck, of course.

Pavel’s fingernails began to draw blood from her neck. The human brain can survive about four minutes without oxygen before cells begin to die, Pavel knew this from lots of experience. She would be unconscious long before then. Her face was already beginning to turn purple and the blood pooling from the knife wounds were beginning to look like spreading red wings. He looked to her like a fallen angel.

If only tonight had been different. He would rather her be straddling him in his bed, not dying in his living room. Life is cruel, but her death would be even crueler.

Isabella’s face was swollen like an overripe grape. He wanted to pop it, so he released one hand from around her neck and waved goodbye to her pretty face.

A few hammerblows transformed the landscape of her face, her straight nose, like a Greek statue, was jagged as a lightning bolt. Her perfect Cupid’s bow lips were bulbous and curled back, revealing a range of shattered teeth.

What was left of Isabella tried to say something, but only blood and broken teeth came out. Her eyes looked like they were pleading with him for mercy. Mercy would come, but in an Old Testament sense.

“Goodbye Isabella,” Pavel said. And then he broke her jaw.

The blow nearly knocked Isabella out completely. Her eyes fluttered in a frantic rhythm.

Pavel undid his pants and pulled his throbbing erection out, squatted over her head, and drove his cock into her blood filled mouth.

She gagged weakly as Pavel’s rock hard cock filled all the space in her throat. She began to put up a fight, but that only made Pavel’s cock harder, which in turn, made it harder for her to breathe.

When her flailing began to get too aggressive, Bogdan and the crew pinned her arms and legs. Pavel could only imagine the thoughts going through her head. Could she have imagined it ever ending like this? Choking on the cock of your rapist as you suffocate and bleed to death.

The tip of Pavel’s cock hit a part of Isabella’s throat and she let out a wet guttural gag. The sound was so beautiful to Pavel that he exploded in a fierce orgasm down her clogged throat. He remained deep inside her until he was sure she stopped her weak thrashing.

Her eyes were frozen in wide horror, and her make up was smeared unevenly in a way that made her look like a raccoon. In fact, the whole scene looked like a roadkill accident.

As Pavel washed himself off in the kitchen sink leaving the crew to dispose of Isabella’s body. Over the course of the night, she was stowed in several different black garbage bags, though Bogdan chose to keep the head for a little while longer.

He had plans to make Isabella posthumously internet famous.

​

Helena strolled through the casino, conscious of the gazes on her body. She was wearing a thin black dress that barely covered her body. The front was just two pieces of fabric that barely covered her nipples, secured at the top by a choker and below by a sash around her belly. While her back was bare, free of fabric. For the bottom, the dress had an incredibly lewd high cut, so much so that one could just barely glimpse at Helena's bare crotch and how wet it was when she walked. Her blonde hair had been tied into a long braid which she slung behind her neck and let it draped over her left shoulder.

*Click clack click clack* The high heels Helena wore announced her presence and her alluring appearance and slutty attire kept the gazes of onlookers. She wouldn't have minded if someone pounced on her then, having their way with her. But she had a job to do, so she continued on. Leaving the main area, she entered the corridor to the private areas, doors on her sides opened to private gambling rooms. Once she found the room she had been called to, she opened the door and stepped in.

The room stank of sex and gore, in the center of the room was a round table where blackjack was played at. Helena saw 7 people around the table, though likely only 6 were alive given that she was being called in. 3 of them were futas, the players and customers of the snuff casino. Of the remaining 4, they were all women. One was the banker and the other 3 were chips.

"You're here, go stand Infront of our customer there and service them. It's chip duty for you." The banker said. She was a fellow employee of the casino dressed in a tight fitting suit of a banker and a decapitation collar around her neck. With her messy shoulder length hair and cheerful face, she looked like the kind of relaxed, easygoing women that would be popular anywhere. Though it was in stark contrast to the corpse slumped on the table with a large bullet hole at the back of her head, this should be the chip Helena was here to replace.

The other two players shot the first player envious glances as Helena threw the previous chip aside and assumed the same position it had before. The chips breasts bounced as it landed on its back, slipping out of the confines of it's thin dress to reveal its nipples. Droplets of milk could be seen leaking from its nipples as the chips eyes were rolled back in orgasmic bliss, a small red hole in its forehead reminding onlookers that the chip was dead and enjoyed it.

" Hopefully you'll be my beautiful lucky chip tonight." Helena's player said as she slid her futa cock into Helena's wet pussy, slamming her hips into Helena's like there was no tommorow. Secretly, Helena hoped that that wouldn't be the case. Though she didn't say it out loud as wishing for the customer to lose is bad manners. As if on cue, the other two players continued fucking their own chips, they had been given a break as the game was paused waiting for Helena to arrive. Moans and wet slapping sounds filled the room as the banker began the next round.

The banker shuffled the deck and offered the Helena's player to cut it before shuffling again then passing each player two cards. Helena's player reached over her head to take her two cards, giving Helena's nipples a squeeze as she did so.

" Draw?" The banker asked calmly, Helena didn't get to see the cards, but she slammed her own hips into her player in order to stimulate them, hoping to distract them into making rash decisions.

" Yes" Helena's player reacted, it seems that her plan succeeded as her player drew two cards in a row before pausing. Helena squirted slightly as she imagined having a hole blown in her head, the way her body would instinctively clamp down on her players futa cock after her consciousness disappeared. But she was to be disappointed. With a confident tone, Helena's player revealed their hand and asked for a draw, their cards summed up to 19.

The banker was apprehensive, she had thought that Helena's player had gone over the limit after they drew two more cards and paused. But not only did they not, Helena's player even wanted to gamble getting 21 with 5 cards. If Helena's next card was a 2, the banker would lose her head. But the banker could not reject a player, she could only pray they drew 3 or more.

With trembling fingers, she tossed the next card to Helena's player, who then flipped it over to reveal a two. 21 in 5 cards.

With the confirmation of the bankers loss, the banker furiously began to start fingering herself as her decapitation collar began beeping.

* Shlick, drip, shlick* clear fluids ran down the bankers inner thighs and squirted onto the table as she masturbated quickly. The frequency of the beeps increased as it approached it's activation time.

*Beep, beep, beep, beep*

Faster and faster the bankers hands moved, faster and faster the collar beeped to keep pace. Once the beeps turned into a continuous siren, the collar activated. A small flash of light covered the bankers neck as a small explosion ripped her head from her body. The bankers headless body fell to the side and continued fingering itself though it's post-mortem orgasm, squirting clear fluids all over the ground. The bankers head dropped right Infront of Helena on the table, it's face contorted in pleasure at her own demise stoked Helena's envy, who was now deprived of her own chance to die for now.

"You sure are a lucky chip." Helena's player gave one last thrust before cumming in her pussy, shooting out ropes of semen into Helena's womb. She gave Helena's butt one last slap before leaving, enjoying the way it jiggled. A dead banker meant the game was over, a banker took quite some time to replace after all.

The other two players also left, but one graciously decided to snap her chips neck before leaving, she felt bad for letting her chip last so long at the table. Seeing their chips body spasm and shake in post-mortem orgasm on the table, Helena had half a mind to strangle her own self using her braid in order to sate her own desires. Though in the end she didn't, her contract forbid her from killing herself, only a customer or a banker could kill her. So Helena tidied up her attire and left, her arousal burning in her chest as she left behind a trail of milky fluids on the floor.

Afterword: pretty short one, had an idea and wrote it down. Initially thought of continuing and ending with Helena's death instead, but felt like that would be too long. So I ended it with the bankers death.

​

Being an executioner was tough work. Public executions are often treated as shows for the general public, they would watch as the condemned are allowed their final climax before death, usually masturbating right along with them until the axe drops. Then they fight over the head and the body that the executioner kicks down for them. All in all and arousing sight.

But imagine the poor executioner, she has to hold in her own arousal throughout the entire process. And if there were multiple women to be beheaded that day? She would have to hold it in all the way. Even as one by one, the condemn orgasm and lose their heads.

This was why aleia normally wore a thin, loose dress and just a pair of panties for maximum ventilation with a modicum of modesty. But after 10 beheadings, it was too much. Her pussy was aching and leaking arousal while her breaths came in ragged pants. Her panties had been completely soaked in her arousal 5 beheadings ago and there was still 10 more to go. Some sort of relief was needed for aleia to continue.

So it was when the next condemned came, a loud mouthed woman who constantly proclaimed her innocence and complained about the injustices she faced, aleia had an idea to relieve herself. As the condemned was forced to kneel Infront of aleia, she gave them a slap to shut them up. Then while they were still stunned, she quickly bent over and pulled down her soaked panties, forcing it into the condemned's mouth as a sort of makeshift gag.

The condemned wanted to spit out the soaked panties as the overpowering taste of aleia's arousal filled her mouth, but she dared not to in fear that this might displease aleia and result in a pre-mature beheading. And so she obediently went about bringing herself to her final climax before being beheaded. Her head was hotly congested for aleia's panties within. And aleia continued on with the remaining beheadings, the extra ventilation from removing her panties helping her feel less pent up throughout the executions. Though some spectators claim seeing small squirts of clear fluids between aleia's legs whenever she beheaded a condemned afterwards.

Afterword: super short one inspired by a post of r/guro. Might be kinda rushed.

I'm shocked. Sarah is 'helping the police with their inquiries'? That's what they say when you're a suspect. Fred was a nice man, even if he did like the ladies a bit. Could Sarah have killed him? I want to think that she couldn't but she does enjoy the executions she oversees. Watching the men line up, dropping, muscular necks straining against nooses choking the life out of them. It turns her on. Maybe she did kill Fred. I slip my flipflops on and go to the women's prison. I'm behind in my work after the men's prison riot and the summary executions that followed.

I arrive at the prison and sign in. I look at the death warrants and I see that a prisoner has been added to the list. Three women to execute and each one has chosen to die on the guillotine rather than the garrotte. Should be an easy day. I enter the execution chamber. I slip my flipflops off to comply with health and safety regulations. I think about how rare it is for a job to mandate that you go barefoot. It gives me a good reason to keep my feet tidy. The spectators enter and take their seats. One man is glaring at me with a look of pure hatred on his face. He looks south Asian. The death chamber door opens and an Indian woman in her twenties is brought in. The guards guide her to the bascule and I strap her onto it. We tilt her down so her neck is resting on the lunette. I gently move her long black hair away from the back of her neck. I close the lunettes. She looks gorgeous. Orange is not her colour though. I notice that she has two toe rings on her left foot and one on her right. I feel the glare from her Father burning into me. I push the button. The blade is released and slices his daughter's head off. Her feet twitch and blood splatters the floor. I take her head out of the basket and place it on a gurney. I unstrap her body and put it with her head.

Next is a black woman in her thirties. She's very pretty and curvy. She's wearing a pair of tracksuit bottoms that say 'juicy' across her ass. That's all. She's topless and barefoot. Her tits are probably too big to fit a jumpsuit. I uncuff her hands from behind her back before I reapply the cuffs in front. She walks to the bascule giving everyone a good look at her neon pink toes. We strap her in face up. It's the only way she can fit. I close the lunettes around her throat. I admire her beautiful soles and tits. As I move to the button she closes her eyes. She's nervous now, her feet wriggle and her toes scrunch and relax causing her shackles to jangle. I push the button. Her head hits the floor and the jangling stops. I place her head and body on a gurney next to the Indian woman.

Finally, a woman in her sixties is brought in. Orange jumpsuit and bare feet. She walks to the bascule whispering the Lord's prayer. I strap her in and lay her down. I close the lunnette and let her finish her prayer. I push the button and her head falls into the basket. I put her on the gurney in two pieces. I wash my feet and slide my flipflops on. I sign out and go to my car.

Before I get to my car I feel an arm around my neck pressing on my throat lifting me up. My panties are ripped. Pressure against my arsehole. It's inside me. I grab the arm and pull, I kick and he lets go. I turn punching wildly. I catch his throat, knees him in the balls and push my thumbs into his eyes until they pop. I push more. I step back. It's the Indian father. I've killed him.

Abby sat shotgun, riding along with her boyfriend Gene coming back from weekend get away. Her amber hair flowing wildly in the wind as the droptop sped down the highway. She loved the feeling of the sun’s rays warming her smooth, bronzed skin. Her top billowed, giving brief flashes of her large, round breasts. She could feel Gene’s gaze every now and again while his hand rubbed between her toned thighs. Abby was a desert rose, a vision of what a woman could be if she wasn’t snuffed or bred as soon as she was of age. Gene had spent years fending off other men trying to get their hands on her, letting her mature into a near perfect model of raw sex appeal. 

As they drove through the countryside, Abby thought of how much she hated it out here. At least in cities there were handsome men to gaze at her, here on the other hand, old hillbillys just leered and whistled at her. It disgusted her. She was grateful to Gene in this way, he laid claim on her and each year he registered her as an owned slut with the fuckstop administration. 

Unfortunately, however, Gene had not been so diligent this year. 

Pulling over to a gas station, Gene got out, 

“I’m gonna run in and grab a few things and maybe hit the fuckstop on the way out,” he said stretching, “You need anything while I’m gone?”

“No,” Abby responded, disinterested. “I’ll just sit here and wait, I don’t really feel like getting groped at by some lowlife just for him to find out I’m taken.”

Gene nodded in response and walked into the gas station. As he did, Abby watched with a small amount of jealousy. ‘Why go to a fuckstop in some dingy roadside dump when she was sitting right next to him’ she thought, ‘it must be because he wants to snuff something.’ She figured. 

Abby turned to her phone. She scrolled through socials, watching absentmindedly as posts flew up the screen. Most were of girls getting snuffed in some way or another. Abby was not super into snuff, all things considered. She liked to watch other girls die, sure, but she thought herself too good for such an end. No, Gene had a plan for her she was much more excited for; a long life being bred and fucked until one day Gene would turn her into a flashlight by removing her limbs and using her until she was ruined. Then, Gene would snuff her and toss her in some dumpster somewhere, a life fulfilled as a true slut. Her heart fluttered just thinking about it, but her daydream was suddenly interrupted by a sudden notification.

~Ding~

Hello, you have been selected to report to a fuckstop stop near you for usage. Thank you for your cooperation. 

‘What??’ Abby thought to herself, ‘that can’t be right, Gene had me taken out of the registry after he declared me a breeding slut.’

Abby opened the notification, the app read: 

You have been selected for use at a nearby fuckstop, please report there at once. If this has been made in error, please call our help desk. Thank you for your cooperation.

Abby dialed the number listed and called the help line. 

“Hello, this is the fuckstop help desk, how may I help you?” A pleasant sounding woman answered. 

“Hi, yes my name is Abby xxxxx and I was just called into a fuckstop but I should be on the breeding registry, my boyfriend has decided to breed me.” Abby explained, some small bit of panic in her voice. 

“Oh I see,” the woman responded, “let me look you up.” 

Abby could hear typing on the line while she nervously rocked in her seat. 

“Ok Abby, it looks like a Gene xxxxx has sent claims for you the past 4 years, however the claim was due 3 days ago so you went back into the unclaimed list.”

Abby’s heart sank. She was going to die in some hick gas station fuckstop because her boyfriend didn’t remember to claim her. 

“Is there anything I can do?” Abby pleaded. 

“I’m afraid not,” the woman was very neutral in delivering Abby’s death sentence, “he would’ve had to claim you before you were summoned. Now that you have been, you must report as requested. Rules are the rules I'm afraid.” 

Abby was devastated. Her wonderful plan of being an obedient slut for the man she loved was dashed by one mistake. She, a true one-in-a-million girl, was to die in this shithole of a gas station out in the middle of nowhere. 

“Ok,” Abby said defeatedly, “I’ll report there now.” 

“Excellent,” the woman over the phone said pleasantly, “ Do you require anything else before this call and myself are terminated?” 

“No, thank you.” Abby said. With that, the woman thanked her for calling the support line and a loud thunk was heard before the line went dead. 

Abby got out of the car and walked over to the small building beside the gas station. Inside, the air was hot and sticky, it hadn't been maintained in a long time. Most of the stalls were dirty, stained with old blood and sweat. The stalls didn’t even have a place to lay on them, girls just had to stand there and wait. She found one that was mostly clean and undressed. Her large tits falling out of her top, bouncing pertly as she pulled down her pants revealing her perfect, peach-shaped ass. Abby knew she was too good for this place, she deserved to be at one of those fancy fuckstops she had walked by so many times in the city, but that didn’t matter now. Now she was just fleshlight for some drunk trucker to use. She bent over the trap door which would soon receive her voluptuous body, put her head through the lock, brushed her amber hair aside, and pulled down the mechanism. 

Her fate was sealed, and all she could do was wait. 

As luck would have it, she didn’t wait long, a gruff voice came from the entrance just a few minutes after she settled in, 

“Finally got restocked, was about to go snuff the cashier if I waited any longer.” Abby didn’t bother looking over to see the man, but she could smell him. His BO assaulted her nostrils as he sauntered up,

“Holy shit! Look at you! You’re the finest piece of meat this ole fuckstop ever did see!” A loud slap rang out as the man saddled up behind Abby. The man gawked as the slap sent tight ripples across the surface of Abby’s butt. Grunting, he pulled down his pants and lined up his cock behind her. It reminded her of how Gene would play with her ass, but she didn’t belong to him anymore. Abby belonged to this stranger for little of her remaining life. 

He moaned as he penetrated her pussy. Abby groaned out of instinct, she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction but her body betrayed her. He rutted away, slapping her ass and groaning loudly as he went. Abby began to feel her body reacting, her pussy was getting wet from the use of her body without regard for her. 

The man suddenly pulled out of her snatch and plunged into her ass, this time Abby moaned loudly, she might as well enjoy it. He fucked her roughly, bruising her ass with his slaps. Just as Abby could feel her own pleasure build, she felt him bottom out in her. A rush of warmth, she realized he had come. She had barely begun to enjoy herself, just the same she though, at least it’s over no-

“Abby?” 

A familiar voice echoed through the room. Abby strained to look over at the entrance. In the doorway, there was Gene, mouth agape seeing her in the fuckstop stall. 

“Not anymore.” The man behind her gruffly said, pressing the button. 

THUNK

The guillotine dropped and Abby’s head rolled into the floor. Her body spasmed once and then went limp. Abby’s beautiful corpse lay there for only a moment, then the trap door below her opened and her perfect body fell into the darkness below. All that was left of Abby now was her head laying on the floor, a shocked expression still drawn across her freckled face. 

“You can have the head if you want,” The man said to Gene, as walked by he patted him on the back, “she was the finest fuck I ever had. It’s a wonder someone didn’t claim her.”

THE END

———————————————
Just something I thought of and threw together. Haven’t written in forever so let me know what you think.

The campus was empty, the last of final exams had finished a few days ago. The college students had all moved out and now it was just the few professors and facility staff hanging around during the day, pretending to work.

And then there was the school store. Overpriced, horrible selection, and on an isolated corner of the campus. It was the most boring place to be and to work, but Brett hadn't picked to work there for excitement, or the pay, or the "fee store credit". He chose to work there for Nina, the classic goth girl of every college guy's dreams. She looked like she could be a pin up model for the goth girl look, even in the blue shirt and khaki pants that the store made her wear. Her hair jet black, straight down to her shoulder blades and matched her black lipstick. She was slender with a chest every guy hoped to get a handful of. She was beautiful, and every guy on campus dreamed of seeing how wild she would be.

But Brett wanted to be different, he didn't want to be like every other sleaze ball that went after her. So, he applied for the store position, got the job, and immediately got assigned to different shifts than her. But then the academic year ended and everyone left, including most of the student workers. Brett saw his opportunity, he knew she was planning to work through the next week when the store finally closed for break. He volunteered to stay, and now it was midnight, on an empty campus with just him, Nina, and the Nightshift Manager Chet.

The problem was Chet; he kept sending Brett off to do stupid tasks while he stayed hanging around Nina all night.

Brett looked over from the cereal shelf he was stocking to see Nina disassembling and cleaning the coffee machine. Chet was leaning against the counter next to her, talking about his War Fantasy Hammer game in his horribly annoying voice that seemed to get more nasally when talking about his fantasy games.

"And then I told the guy, your never gonna beat my army, every other week I'm upping it's size with my manager pay. He said I was just wasting my paycheck, but I know he wished he could have a 2000-point army like mine."

He looked over at Nina, trying to get a hint if she was impressed by his story or ability to throw money around.

Without looking his way, she just said plainly, "that's great Chet, pass me the soap rag" Her never smiling face looked like she was in pure hell.

Chet, not passing her the soap rag, just continued on "This other guy told me that I was just playing the meta, but little does he know I'm a tactical genius at the game. If anything I created the meta and people are just copying me."

Nina turned her head to look anywhere that wasn't in Chet's general direction. Her eyes locked onto Brett for brief second. Brett could see them light up for a second as she looked at him, he wished he could hear the thought behind it. Nina then turned to Chet, cutting him off, "Hey Chet, you only live like what, a half hour away right? Why don't you go grab some of your Fantasy Hammer War army pieces and bring them back here. It's such a slow night and you could show them off to me" the fake flirtatious act was obvious to anyone that wasn't Chet.

Chet immediately starts stammering, "I... well, ...it's more like 40 minutes... well," he looked down at his watch, flustered "yeah, um I'll go get them!" He grabbed his keys and hurried to the door, walking like a man trying to conceal a boner.

Nina and Brett both watched him exit the store and get into his car. Brett let out a "I can't believe that guy is a post grad" hoping to get a chuckle out of Nina. But she didn't react, she was still staring out the front at Chet's car, and the second she saw it leave the parking lot she darted into the back storeroom.

"Fuck." Brett thought to himself "She's making a run for it, probably quitting." He could hear shuffling in the backroom, boxes being shifted, the ladder being moved, and then "New guy, get in here!"

Brett walked to the storeroom door and pushed it open. Nina had her back turned, digging through boxes, bags, and drawers like her life depended on it. He walked up to her as she reached into drawer and pulled something out, "this will do" he heard her say under her breath.

"Hey, I know you needed a break from Chet, but he's gonna be way more annoying when he gets back with those game things"

She turned around and pressed something up to Brett's chest. He looks down to see her holding a rusty old knife out. Looking back up at her, she states, "Snuff me!"

"What!?!?" Brett looked back down at the knife she was still trying to give him, at a loss for words, "What do you- Are you serious?"

She looked at him with a bit if annoyance on her face, and a bit of a tease, "Snuff. Me. You do know what that is right?"

Brett took a second to answer, still trying to figure out if this was a joke she was taking too far. "Of course I know what that is, who doesn't on campus?"

Brett and every other student had heard about it, the new trend where someone gives another permission to kill them, usually during sex. The University Administration had a fit when right before homecoming this year, the football team had snuffed almost half of the cheerleader team at a weekend party. Apparently, it started with the cheer captain letting the whole football team fuck her in front of the party, with the quarterback finishing last and snapping her neck. They say she came so hard as she died that her cheer team started lining up for their own turns. The football team still won the homecoming match, but the University President said the remaining cheer team was an embarrassment on the sidelines, disorganized as all hell. But that was the jocks and the partiers who did wild shit, not an everyday college student in the back of the campus store. Brett looked at Nina, waiting for her to laugh at him and withdraw the offer, but she didn't.

"I want you to fuck me like you've been daydreaming about all night, and when I cum, slit my throat and let me bleed out on it. Can you manage that?"

Brett began to realize the amazing proposition he was being offered. He took the knife, looked down at it, and said, "alright, but I'm doing whatever I want with you before..."

"Before you spill me all over the floor? As long as you slit my throat when I start to cum and leave my bloody, cum filled, corpse for that loser of a manager to come across, do whatever you want to me." A flicker of relief and intrigue in her voice. "I'm a masochist for a good time"

Before she could say more, Brett pushed her hard backward, she slammed against the wall, hitting her head hard, "Hey!" she let out, more surprised than angry. Brett strode forward and in one smooth motion thrust a hand to her throat pinning her to the wall. She was shorter than him and her eyes looked up with a flicker of fear and then anticipation. Brett had told himself he'd be better than the other sleaze bags after Nina, but his daydreams of being with her and always been rough, and now he had a free pass to be as rough as we wanted and then more. He took the knife in his other hand brought it to her collar and cut the shirt down the front. The knife was dull though and it only made a small tear down. Brett let go of her throat and with both hands ripped her shirt open. Nina let out slight gasp at the amount of force he was already using. The knife then slid under the fabric and underwire connecting the cups of her bra, Brett pulled hard, knowing the knife was dull. The straps of her bra pulled hard into Nina's back, and she started to be pulled away from the wall. Brett slammed her back against the wall by the throat again and the underwire snapped against the edge of the knife. The bra cups fell to the sides, and Brett could finally see her pale breast, they were full and perky like he had hoped they would be. "God their better than I ever imagined" He said gazing at them.

"I'll be sure to tell him with when you send me to him" she let out in a hot breath, clearly leaning into the manhandling and stripping. Brett spun her around, grabbed the back of her collar of and pulled the torn shirt off of her, her bra falling away with it. He poked the tip of the knife into her ass cheek, through the khakis, not enough to draw blood, but enough to make his point, "lose the pants!"

"Getting straight to it aren't you, are you that excited snuff me out?" she playfully questioned as he slid her pants and the black panties underneath down.

"We only have a little over an hour until Chet gets back and I've daydreamed about fucking you for months, so I'm not wasting any time" He replied, pinning her to the wall and sliding his hand down to grope her ass.

"Well hopefully you weren't dreaming of romantically running away with me, cause I'm hoping for a roughed up fuck and snuff from you." There was no doubt in his mind now, she told Brett what she wanted and he was going to deliver. He grabbed her a hair at the base and yanked it hard as he walked across the room with her in tow to a wall mirror next to employee lockers, "Agh, fuck" she yipped. Her intention was to die but her mind still had to react to the pain, it was making Brett hard. He held her head up in front of the mirror, "I'm going to make you watch yourself die"

"Your a closet sadist aren't you?" She was trembling but not trying to escape. He reached down and pressed his fingers into her, they slid right in. She was wet and offered not resistance to his fingers entering her. He pulled them back, inspecting the residue left on his fingers, and then tasted it. He pulled his cock out. "Bend over!"

She looked at him with bratty playful defiance, "Make me."

Without thinking he stepped around to her front, looked into her eyes, and then punched her hard in the stomach. She stayed on her feet, barely, but her top half doubled forward, her arms went to hold her stomach, and her gasps told him that the air had partially been knocked out of her. He walked back behind her and inserted himself into her as she was properly bent over now. She was soaked and he was able to push to the base with ease.

"Fuc...gah, ...oh... yes" she gasped. Bracing herself with one hand against the mirror, the other still holding her stomach. "You...you really... didn't hold back... when I said roughed up."

He was keeping a light pace going in and out of her, "I figured since you aren't going to be walking out of this I'd let loose on you a bit, don't tell me you want me to ease up?"

"Fuck no," Her breath mostly back, "Keep... that shit up. I want to feel all the pain and pleasure you can provide, then let me bleed out on your cock"

The words made Brett feel a heat in his chest, he swung his hand and spanked her, with his all of his might. It made a sharp, impressive snap, "aaaaagggggghhhhhh..." Nina bit her lip hard to endure it, she knew his was a bit muscular but she was taken aback by the sharp pain.

"I don't think I can rank myself in pleasure, but..." Looking at the clear red outline on her pale ass cheek and giving another slap with all of his might, "I think I can deliver you the pain you want"

"Your..." She winces as his body brushes the spot as she slid back on his dick again, "Your doing very well in both fields" Her second arm helping her first brace herself on the wall mirror.

Primal desire started to rise. The punch had felt good, better than the full force slaps on her ass. Was it because he had looked her in the eyes before doing it, or was it because of the power it gave him over her? No, he could feel why, it was because it wasn't meant to be sexual, it was that she wanted pain, and he delivered it. He could feel the fire burning hotter within him, he reach forward and grabbed the back of her hair at the base. "Oh," she huffed, "What are you goin-" The crunch of the forehead being slammed into the mirror stopped her from finishing the question. Brett's other arm wrapping under her stomach to keep her up as she lost consciousness for second from the impact.

She came too a second later, "aagh.. fu.. ergh... aahhh." She came to, confused, pain and pleasure overwhelming her, "Where am... aagh, you sadistic fu..ck, don't fucking make... make me lose consciousness"

He pushed her forehead into the crumbling shards and fragments of mirror, thrusting harder now, "Well don't lose consciousness so easily then" He watched the blood from her forehead seep down over her right eye. She was looking back at him in the mirror, a mix of satisfaction, fear, and goading, "Have another one in you?"

Her words were barely out of her mouth before her face slammed into the mirror a second time. Blood shot out of both of her nostrils, as he broke her nose. He pulled her head back by her hair, up closer to his face. He looked at her in the broken mirror, two thirds of her face now covered in her own blood, "All this red looks better than the black" He mocked her. She barely registered the insult, her eyes dazed and her breathing heavy.

"Yes.. oh fuck yes... it hurts, fuck it hurts so good" She stammers and pants, "I... I... stab me...stab me please"

"I can't, not yet, I still want more before I turn you into lifeless corpse" He growled. She reaches down and fumbles with his arm around her stomach, and guides his hand up to her right breast.

"Here, stab me here, fuck, please" She pleads almost like a whine of desperation. She starts to throw it back harder, her only real way of trying to persuade him. Brett looked at the knife, it wasn't particularly long, maybe four inches at most. Her chest was probably full enough to take its entirety without risking killing her too soon. He pressed the tip up against her skin, just an inch or two under her nipple. He could feel her trembling, she knew it would be painful, excruciatingly, more than anything she had felt yet. She turned her head a bit to try and look at him, "Can I... count you down?"

"Sure"

She looked back at the mirror to view the mutilation of one of her perfect tits. Brett didn't give her a chance to even get one number out. The point of the knife punctured her and slid to its hilt. Nina inhaled so sharply she sent blood and air into her lungs. She gagged and sputtered while unnatural, primal noise came from her throat. Blood spilled from the wound down her pale soft stomach. Her body struggled, not knowing how to deal with the searing pain. The squirming only increased the wound, jostling the blade in her around. Brett could feel himself swelling inside of her, he didn't have much control left, which meant she didn't have much time left. He yanked the knife hard, cutting her open more. He started thrusting harder into her at the same time, she was writhing on him, breaths short, pain overflowing her mind. She stammered, noises and sounds, no words.

She tried again, "Close... I'm close" Brett felt his own mental controls stretch themselves to the limit, harder, faster, deeper. He put the knife to her throat... and time felt like it went into slow motion. The instant the blood soaked blade touched her neck, he felt her grip down there tighten. He started to press the long edge of the blade into her, he felt the overflow take control of her body,

"I'm! I'm!! I... AAAGHH!!! Brett pulled the knife quick and hard across her throat, right as she started to scream. The scream immediately turned into a wet gurgle, blood started gushing from her throat, pouring down her chest, one of her hands shot up to her neck, trying to stop the gushing, or maybe trying to prolong it. Brett exploded inside of her, the first of his pulsation into her last longer than Brett knew was possible, to the point of it being unsettling to him, and then another, and third. He emptied himself into her. He looked at her in the broken mirror. The tip of the knife had been sharp but the blade had been worn, he hadn't made a clean cut across. The jugular on the left side was clearly open and spilling out blood, but the right side of her throat was only grazed, the windpipe in between jaggedly cut. Nina was still making wet noises, her mouth was moving a bit but no words came out. Her eyes wide looking back at him in the mirror. She knew she was dying, and feeling the continued pulses from Brett's cock, she knew he was getting off to it.

He dropped the knife and cupped his hand against her chest, letting her blood pool in it. He then splashed it onto her left breast, playing with and groping it, staring into her eyes through the mirror. Her hand, the one that wasn't on her neck, reached up and held onto his as he continued to massage and play with her blood and her breast. Her lips twitched, maybe a flicker of a smile on the edges, maybe nothing more than dying flickers. He watched her eyes dilate; her stare was now going through him. Her hand on his slid, then fell away. The clamped grip around his dick loosened. He stayed there a minute, holding the entirety of her dead weight where it was.

Then the exhaustion began to hit him. He turned himself and her to face away from the mirror, her head folded forward limp, and with a slight jolt, he pushed her corpse off of him. Her body fell forward, her heard crack on the concrete floor of the storeroom as she landed. He chuckled, if she were still alive, she would have loved that, he thought. Looking at her body, face down on the floor, he frowned, from the back side, besides some blood splattering, smears, and a clear outline of his hand, she looked undamaged. He reached down and rolled her over, so the real work could be seen, her bloodied for head, sliced throat, stabbed and mutilated breast, and reddened stomach. Cum was starting to drip out of her, and then came the cherry on top. Her bladder spilled itself onto the floor between her legs, just making the faintest trickle sound of her body pissing itself. Brett admired his work, but he cursed her. She died having the best sex ever, and he had to go on living knowing he may never get to experience that again.

Brett went over to the backroom sink and started washing himself off, after that he collected his own cloths and dressed back into his store uniform. He left the light on and went back into the main store and sat behind the register, waiting. About 10 minutes later Chet's car rolled back into the parking lot, he got out with a large box and worked his way into the store. He walked toward Brett at the back of the aisles, a stupid self-pleased smirk on his face "New guy, where'd the pretty lady go?"

Brett looked up at him, hiding all emotion on his face, and gestured toward the storeroom door, "Waiting for you in there."

Chet smirked to himself trying to show off somehow and headed to the door. He reached down, with the box still in both hands, and turned the handle enough that he could push the door open with his back and stepped backwards into the room before turning around. The door closed behind him, Brett heard the box of Hammer War Fantasy pieces hit the floor and an angry yell, "Are you fucking kidding me!!! Again!?!?"

I push the apartment door shut with my hip and drop my bag on the floor. The second the lock clicks I already feel it , that low, restless heat that’s been sitting between my legs since lunch. My button-down is still tucked into my dress pants, flats kicking off one after the other as I walk straight to the bedroom. My skin is still warm from the day, and right now every inch of me feels oversensitive. I’m soaked. I can feel it every time my thighs brush. My panties are a mess and my nipples have been hard against the thin fabric of my bra for the last two hours of meetings.

I set my phone up on the dresser, angling it so it has a clear view of the bed, then hit record.

“Hey, baby,” I say, already undoing the top buttons of my shirt. The fabric slides off my shoulders, showing the smooth stretch of olive skin down my arms and the sharp line of my collarbones. “Long fucking day. I’m so wet it’s ridiculous. I’ve been thinking about this since like eleven this morning.”

I pull the button-down off and toss it, then unhook my bra. My nipples tighten even more in the cooler air, small, dark against my skin. I give them a quick squeeze for the camera, hissing a little at how sensitive they are, then shove my dress pants down and step out of them. Now I’m just in black panties that are visibly dark at the crotch, the thin fabric stretched over my narrow hips and the soft lower curve of my belly. I cup myself through the material and show the camera how slick it is.

“Look at that. I’ve been dripping since I left the office.”

I climb onto the bed, kneeling so my long torso and flat stomach are right in frame. The tanned skin of my midriff looks almost golden under the bedroom light. I hook my thumbs into the waistband of my panties and push them down just enough to bare most of my belly and the top of my mound. My navel sits neat and shallow in the middle of all that smooth skin, soft and inviting. I run two fingers around it in slow circles, then dip one fingertip inside and tug gently.

“Gonna open this up for you tonight,” I tell the phone, voice already a little breathy. “All the way. I want you to watch me pull everything out and fist myself until I come. Don’t worry, you know I heal fast. By morning there won’t even be a mark. Just a really good video for you.”

I press harder against my soaked panties with my other hand, grinding the heel of my palm against my clit while I keep playing with my navel. A soft, wet sound answers me. My nipples are aching now, tight little points that make me shiver every time the air moves across them. The long, lean line of my body feels electric, everything already so ready.

I smile at the camera, already flushed.

“Okay. Let me get these panties off and grab the knife. Be right back.”

I toss the black panties aside and grab the little craft knife from my nightstand drawer. It’s the same one I always use: short, sharp, easy to control. I settle back against the pillows so the camera has a perfect view of my bare stomach, then spread my legs a little wider. I’m dripping onto the sheets already. Every time I shift, I feel how swollen and wet I am.

“Okay, baby,” I murmur to the phone, voice low and thick. “Watch this.”

I pinch the soft skin of my navel between two fingers and pull it up gently, then set the tip of the blade right in the center of the innie. The first cut is shallow and careful. A thin line of red wells up immediately. The sting makes my clit throb. I keep going, working the knife in a slow circle, opening the hole wider, deeper. Blood runs down the curve of my belly in thin rivulets and pools in the hollow of my hips. I can smell it, sharp adn metallic, mixed with how turned on I am.

I set the knife aside and push my middle finger into the new opening.

It’s hot inside. Soft. The muscle gives under the pressure and then I’m past it, fingertip sliding against something slicker and more mobile. My own intestines, nestled comfortably in my abdomen. I moan out loud and push deeper, curling the finger, feeling the warm, living coils shift and slide around me as my finger glides across my own mesentery. My other hand drops between my legs and starts rubbing slow circles over my clit. I’m so wet the sound is filthy.

“Fuck… it’s so soft in there,” I tell the camera, breathless. “I can feel them moving. They’re ... they're so warm.”

I work a second finger in, then a third, stretching the navel hole until it’s a dark, glistening mouth. Blood and clear fluid make everything slippery. I start gently tugging. A shiny pink loop of small intestine slides out over my knuckles and rests on the lower curve of my stomach. It twitches. I laugh softly, almost giddy, and pull another section free, arranging the glistening ropes across my belly like I’m decorating myself.

The sight of my own guts lying wet and alive on my skin pushes me right to the edge. I rub my clit faster, two fingers still buried inside the open navel, gently stirring the organs that are still inside. The stretch, the heat, the visual. It’s too much.

“I’m gonna come,” I warn the phone, voice breaking. “I’m gonna come with my hand in my own guts”

The orgasm hits hard. My ruined navel clenches around my fingers, the spilled loops of intestine jump and tighten, and a fresh gush of wetness soaks my hand and the sheets. I keep rubbing through it, bloody, moaning, eyes locked on the camera even as my vision blurs. The healing has already started. I can feel the faintest itch at the edges of the cut, but I’m nowhere near done.

I pull my fingers out with a wet sound and look down at the small pile of my own intestines glistening on my belly. My nipples are so hard they ache. I’m still throbbing between my legs.

“One more,” I pant, reaching for the knife again to open myself wider. “I want my whole hand inside before I finish. Watch me, baby. This next part’s for you.”

I pick the knife back up and carefully enlarge the opening, cutting outward in short, controlled strokes until the hole is big enough. The blade burns as it goes, a bright, precise sting that makes my toes curl. Blood runs freely now, warm and slippery over my skin. Every new cut sends a sharp, painful, pulse straight down to my clit. I set the blade aside, lick my lips, and start working my hand in.

Four fingers first, then the thumb. The stretch is intense. It hurts in a deep, aching way that feels almost too big for my body, like I’m being opened from the inside out. My navel, or what’s left of it, spreads into a dark, wet circle that swallows my knuckles, then my palm. The pain blooms hot and wide across my lower belly, but underneath it is a thick, dizzying pleasure that makes my thighs shake. I push slowly, watching the camera the whole time, until I’m wrist-deep in my own belly. The heat inside is incredible, softer and wetter than anything else, living tissue sliding against my skin. My intestines coil and shift around my hand like warm, slick ropes. Every small movement sends overlapping waves of hurt and arousal through me.

“Fuck, baby... look,” I breathe, angling my body so the phone gets the full view. “I’m inside myself. All the way. It hurts so good...”

I close my fist and start moving. Short, deep fisting-punches. Each one is a heavy, internal thud that radiates outward in dull spikes of pain, followed immediately by a rush of heat between my legs. Slow stirring motions make the organs slide and drag against one another; the sensation is nauseating and electric at the same time. When I grab a thicker section and pull, the resistance is rubbery and intimate, a long, stretching burn as the loop slides free, then a sudden release that leaves me gasping and my chest heaving. The glistening rope of intestine lands across my hip with a wet slap. I keep going, another loop, then another, until a shiny pile of my own guts is spread over my lower belly and thighs. The empty space inside me feels huge, cold where the air touches, and every breath makes the open edges of the wound sting and throb.

I’m rubbing my clit with my free hand in tight, frantic circles. The dual sensation is overwhelming: the deep, aching fullness of my fist buried in my open abdomen, the sharp external sting of the stretched skin, and the bright, wet pleasure building in my pussy. My nipples are so tight they hurt. Every time my fist moves, a fresh thread of pain pulls through my core and turns immediately into another pulse of need.

“I’m so close again,” I tell the camera, voice breaking. “It hurts… it hurts and I’m gonna come with my whole fucking hand in my fucking guts”

The second orgasm crashes through me harder than the first. My belly clamps down around my forearm in a series of hard, involuntary spasms, each contraction a bright spike of pain that only pushes the pleasure higher. The spilled intestines jump and tighten on my skin. A fresh flood of wetness soaks my hand and the sheets as I cry out, hips bucking, the open wound flexing and burning with every wave. I keep fisting myself through it, punching deeper, the pain and the climax tangled so tightly I can’t tell them apart. One more slick loop pulls free under my hand and the extra stretch sends a final, shuddering peak through me.

When the waves finally slow I stay like that for a long moment, wrist-deep, guts spilled, chest heaving, feeling the deep, bruised ache inside the cavity and the softer, satisfied throb between my legs. The healing has already begun; a warm, itchy tingle spreads along the cut edges, knitting them slowly while the leftover pain still pulses in time with my heartbeat.

I smile at the phone, dazed and glowing.

“God… that was perfect. It hurt so much and I came so hard.”

I start the slow process of feeding everything back inside. Each coil I push back in wakes another dull flare of pain, but it’s quieter now, the soft gurgles and squelches as my warm intestines move back to their home. I pack them gently into place until my belly looks almost full again. The bleeding has slowed to a seep. By morning there will be nothing left but smooth skin and the memory of how completely I was opened.

I wipe my hands on the sheets, lean closer to the camera, and blow a soft kiss.

“Sending this to you as soon as I clean up a little. Hope you enjoy the show, babe.”

I leave the phone recording a few seconds longer while I lie back, one hand resting lightly over the closing wound, feeling the last deep aches fade into the warm itch of healing. My legs are still open, body loose, pussy still twitching with aftershocks. The last thing the video catches is the quiet sound of my breathing and the faint, wet shift of my guts settling as they begin to repair themselves.

  Adelaide moaned into her servant, Mary Ann’s, mouth. Their tongues danced together. She put her hands on the servant’s hips and pulled her close. “Oh, my… You taste so sweet…”

  “My liege… Dearest Princess…” Mary Ann pulled Adelaide back into the kiss.

  As the two nipped at each other’s lips, Adelaide’s legs trembled. Her pussy was drenched. Some of it was slobber. Most of it was pleasure. Another servant pressed her mouth against Adelaide’s clit. Her name was Leliana, and she was the Princess’s most skillful servant. She trailed her tongue over her lover’s dripping folds. Leliana was also the smallest on the team. She wore a soft, thin slip to cover her flat chest and round butt. Her pale skin was marked with hickies. Butter-blonde hair was tangled from being tugged on.

  Adelaide squeezed Mary Ann’s pale, thick rump with one hand. The other tangled in her auburn locks. She tugged her servant’s head back. Her lips brushed against the soft skin. “What a lovely neck. So small. So vulnerable…” Adelaide nipped her, then melted into a deep kiss. Pale skin turned purple and red with a hickey. “Do not tell anyone, but I believe you may be my favorite.”

  “I resent that,” came a laugh from behind Adelaide.

  The Princess pouted as she leaned back against the third of her four servants: Ranma. Ranma pressed her plump tits and soft belly into Adelaide’s back. Her dark eyes scoured over her liege’s naked frame. She drank in her lover’s smooth, enchanting beauty. Both of them shared a slim-fit form born from years of taking good care of their bodies. Ranma’s black hair matched the Princess’s as well, so that it was hard to tell where one woman started and the other ended. She kissed and nipped at Adelaide’s shoulders. Her fingers pressed against the Princess’s winking pussy.

  The final maid stood at the end of the washroom. Dalia was the most shy, often hiding behind her curtain of blonde hair. Despite her nerves, her one free hand had lifted her skirt and rubbed against her clit. Her other hand was busy gathering new clothes for the Princess to wear. Incense smoke filled the room with a sultry air. It nearly hid the petite woman from those on the bed. She swallowed her nerves and stumbled over to the crowd. Leliana was not over their two seconds before Ranma pulled her close and started to grope her ass. A squeak escaped her. “W-wait!”

  “Oh shut up,” Ranma teased. “We all know you love this.”

  “Be gentle with her. She is my sweetest, most darling pet,” Princess Adelaide cooed. She planted another kiss on Mary Ann’s neck. After everything she had done, it was covered entirely in hickies. “Unlike you. Such a rude one.”

  Ranma grinned. She ground against her Liege’s butt. “You love it.”

  That earned a small chorus of giggles as Adelaide rolled her eyes. She did not deny it. Perhaps she was too lost in the pleasure to try. Instead, she focused on groping and teasing Mary Ann. Adelaide pushed the lesser woman against the warmth of her bed. Pleasure ran down the servant’s legs in rivulets. It created a puddle, nearly indistinguishable from the purple fabric. Mary Ann whimpered. She wrapped her legs around Adelaide to pull her close. Their burning pussies pressed together. They were slick. Hot. The Princess’s eyes widened as she groaned with delight.

  Ranma pushed herself against her Liege’s butt. It forced Adelaide to grind faster against the lesser servant. Ranma’s fingers pumped into her pussy. They were slick with her pleasure. The Princess’s pussy seemed to pull her in, especially as her clit ground against Mary Ann’s.

  “Fuck… Mary Ann. You are so hot,” Adelaide moaned. She pressed her full weight into the servant, threatening to crush her, not that Mary Ann minded. Her hips rolled against the Princess with reckless abandon. What Adelaide did not notice was that her hands, once braced at her servant’s sides, came up around the woman’s neck. “You feel so fucking good…”

  “Now who has the naughty tongue?” Ranma teased.

  Adelaide tried to hush her, but it only managed to melt into a whorish moan. Her fingers tightened around Mary Ann’s neck. It was warm under her grip. Soft. The servant’s windpipe was ever so fragile. One wrong push and it would snap in an instant. Adelaide’s face flushed at the thought. She ground faster. Harder. Her breath hitched in her throat as she lost herself in the pleasure. The Princess did not even notice her fingers squeezing Mary Ann’s throat shut.

  “Look at you. So horny,” Ranma hummed into Adelaide’s ear. “For someone so refined, you sure are a slut.”

  “Do not insult your Princess. You would do well to learn your place beneath me,” Adelaide hissed back between shaky moans.

  “Seems Mary Ann’s learning it well enough.”

  The words made Adelaide’s blood run cold. She froze as she stared down at what she was doing. “Oh– shit!”

  Mary Ann’s face was mottled red as she gasped for breath. Her fingers had instinctively dropped to jerk herself off, desperate to get in one last orgasm. Her eyes had rolled to the back of her head. Drool flecked her lips. Adelaide sputtered. She released the servant with a whimper and tugged herself backward. Fear coursed through her. Guilt chewed at her nerves. The words What have I done? played on repeat in her head.

  “I– I apologize, Mary Ann. I did not intend… I did not want to– to hurt you.”

  Adelaide’s hands shook as she stared down at the woman. Mary Ann wheezed. One hand kept at her clit while the other pawed uselessly at her throat. She sucked in several breaths and wiped away tears. The poor thing would live. Yet, she seemed strangely disappointed. Mary Ann sat up. She swallowed before breaking into a wave of coughs. It took her a solid minute to compose herself. A minute of tense stillness. Adelaide reached up to cup her cheek. Mary Ann smiled weakly at her. “Why did you stop?”

  The Princess stared at her servant, completely baffled. She gaped for words like a suffocating fish. “Why!? Because I could have killed you. Darling pet, I do not wish to see your demise. It would be too cruel for all you have done to me. Again– I am ever so sorry. That must have hurt. It must have been ever so stressful. Will you forgive me?”

  Mary Ann’s gaze softened. She pressed her forehead to Adelaide’s and gently shushed her. “Of course… Although you are not being entirely honest with yourself. Are you?”

  Adelaide blinked. She looked around at the women. A blush spread across her face. “Whatever do you mean?”

  Another chorus of laughter that made the Princess’s chest tighten with shame. Leliana pulled her pre-cum soaked face free from the pair of pussies. She smirked up at Ranma. “We know your interests, my liege. We have known for quite some time.”

  Adelaide burst to her feet. Her stomach twisted into a thousand knots as her legs threatened to give out from under her. She could have cum from choking Mary Ann out. The Princess felt like a monster. Adelaide shook her head no. Her fingers twitched as she worked out what they were saying.

  Ranma did not wait for a response. She crossed the space between them and cupped her Princess’s cheeks. “We know you want to suffocate us to death. Why don’t you just do it? Mary Ann was basically begging for it. I’ve been begging for it for years.”

  “I do not wish to harm my loyal servants!”

  “Oh, bull shit.” Ranma barked a laugh. Her hands dropped to grab Adelaide’s wrists. “You almost came like a desperate whore, and she was hardly even choking yet. You would have choked her to death on the spot if I had let you.”

  Tears bubbled in the corners of Adelaide’s vision. She tried and failed to yank herself away from her servant. Ranma tugged her back over to Mary Ann, who shot her coworker a hesitant glance. That did little to stop the spicy maid. She forced the Princess’s fingers around that soft, fragile throat yet again. Ranma had to hold them in place. Otherwise, Adelaide would have yanked them away.

  Leliana sighed. She licked her lips clean. “Ranma’s right. We’ve heard you moan about it. About how much you want to feel us choke to death on your dick.”

  “I do not have a dick!” Adelaide countered. She immediately deflated when Ranma cackled.

  “No dick? Not even from a certain spell? That’s right. We know about the cock spell. We’re the ones who have to clean up your magical cum, afterall. Just breathe. We’re not upset at you. My liege– We love you. More than anything in this entire world.”

  Mary Ann cleared her throat. “I wish to serve you in whatever you need. If that means as a sex toy, then so be it. Being at your service is all that I am. All that I ever wish to be. Would you deny me such a pleasure?”

  Adelaide’s throat went dry. She stopped fighting Ranma’s grip, but her heart still roared in her ears. As generous as the other women were being, she just could not bring herself to do it. They had been serving her since she was young. For years, they were her trusted confidantes. Every servant there knew of her greatest sins. Her dearest desires. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She shook her head no.

  Ranma sighed. She let go, although Adelaide’s hands did not move. Her arms crossed over her chest. “Don’t play coy. Just… imagine it.”

  “I do not wish to.” Adelaide barely managed a whisper.

  “Don’t lie to yourself. Just… relax.” Ranma moved behind Adelaide. She wrapped her arms around to gently roll her fingers over the Princess’s nipples. “Imagine her face. Imagine the fear and pleasure when she sees you grab a rope.”

  On cue, Dalia nodded and rushed to the pile of towels. She rifled through it until she found just such a rope. The servants had been planning this moment for quite some time. Dalia brought it over and brushed it over Adelaide’s arm. She made sure the Princess got a feel for the rough hemp.

  “Imagine tying it in a knot. Knowing just how tight to make it so that Mary Ann would never break free. You can hear her whimpering when you wrap the loop around her neck.” Mary Ann whimpered to sell the feeling of Ranma’s words. “Then you reach down and press your hands to your hips. A couple of short, magical words and a large, magical cock sprouts from your hips. It’s drooling with your excitement as you watch your prey struggle. You can feel the last of her hot breath on your face as you press your new dick into her dripping cunt. It’s hot. It draws you in and begs for more.”

  Adelaide’s breath caught. Pleasure drooled down her legs. She squeezed her eyes shut, as if that would push Ranma’s words out. Her thumbs rolled over Mary Ann’s neck. They played with the tougher cartilage underneath. So soft. So easy to crunch. The tears never stopped, but her legs trembled. It was getting harder with every breath– every word– to contain her desire.

  Ranma leaned in close. She peppered kisses on the Princess’s ear and neck. Her breath tickled the lobe. “Can you feel it? Can you feel her throat snap when you tug on the rope? The knot tightens the more she struggles. You can hear her choking gasps. When you look, you see her face. It’s all red and purple as her body is denied the air it needs. You plunge your dick inside. Her insides are struggling against you. Begging for more. The last thing she ever feels is how good you stuff her while she dies.”

  Adelaide tugged herself away. She looked around at the women, wiping away her tears. “Do… Do you all truly wish for this?”

  Leliana nodded. “Anything to serve you.”

  “It is all we desire,” Dalia added with a squeak.

  “And all we’re good for.” Mary Ann finished. She put her hand on Adelaide’s hip. “So, please. Fulfill us. It’s everything we want and more.”

  All of those hopeful faces… Adelaide could not deny the women she loved so much. Her heart roared in her chest as she put her hand on Mary Ann’s. She stared into the woman’s eyes, searching for something. Anything resembling hesitation. There was not even a dash of it. Adelaide swallowed. She reached over and snatched up the rope. It felt hot between her fingers. Rough. As if it was going to cut her.

  “You– uhm… Don’t have to. If you don’t want to…” Dalia whispered.

  Adelaide took a steadying breath. She shook her head. “No. I will make you all feel good. I will give you what you deserve.”

  The princess draped the rope over her shoulders. She pressed her fingers against her hips and muttered under her breath. Magical energy buzzed through the room. It shot sparks of excitement and energy through the servants. Blue swirls of light wrapped first around Adelaide’s fingers, then spun in mesmerizing circles over her clit. It shaped the flesh gently. Pulled it. Grew it. Up sprang the most magnificent dick. The meat was large enough to be imposing, but not too large to be impossible to slip into a woman. Blue-tinted precum oozed from the tip. It pulsed with pleasure and made Adelaide stumble. Her eyes widened as the pleasure shot straight to her foggy brain.

  Mary Ann’s mouth fell open at the sight of the dick. Her pussy winked with pleasure. “My liege, it is beautiful. Almost as much so as you. Would you honor me by stuffing me full?-- Gh!”

  Before the servant could react, Adelaide had tied a noose in her rope and looped it over Mary Ann’s head. Her eyes bulged as the rough hemp tightened. Her mouth fell open, immediately gasping for air that could not make it around the pressure. Mary Ann grabbed Adelaide’s wrist. Red flushed across her face. Despite her instinctive panic, she was grinning. Her mouth made something resembling a moan that came out as little more than a choked wheeze. Tears bubbled up.

  Adelaide could not help it. She was harder than steel. Harder than she had ever been before. The Princess could feel Mary Ann’s throat resisting the rope. Doing everything it could not to avoid being crushed. She could feel it vibrating through the hemp cords. Adelaide could not help but grin. A moan slipped out of her. She pressed her dick between them. Mary Ann’s body was warm. The servant kicked and thrashed on instinct. Her eyes bulged in her head as her face grew redder. Adelaide bit her lip. “Fuck… Mary Ann. You’re so… Oh, fuck. Thank you. Thank you so, so dearly…”

  No matter how Mary Ann’s body fought to survive on instinct, she was no match for the strength of the woman who held her down on the bed. Adelaide slid her dick lower. She enjoyed the warmth of the servant’s lips before she pushed inside. Mary Ann was white hot velvet. Her pussy drew the Princess in. It was impossibly tight as all of the servant’s muscles were fighting for life. The tighter the rope got, the tighter the cunt. Drool flecked Mary Ann’s lips as she kicked. Her limbs were slowly growing weaker. Adelaide tugged her into a loose-lipped kiss as she slammed inside. It only took a couple of thrusts before the Princess bottomed out inside her prey.

  Never before had Adelaide had so much pleasure. Her eyes rolled as she howled. She was like a dog in heat. The Princess’s dick throbbed. Cum threatened to break through at any moment. Adelaide fought the urge. The desire. All she wanted was to enjoy her maid’s death for a few minutes longer.

  Mary Ann’s face transitioned from red to purple, then finally to blue. The only struggles she managed were to weakly scratch at the rough rope. It dug into her neck. Tugged at the skin. Spit frothed down her face. She gasped and wheezed, but to no avail. Despite it all, she was smiling. Her pussy was drenched with pleasure. It clamped down on Adelaide. Orgasm rocked the dying maid. The last thing she ever felt was the sheer pleasure of servicing her Princess.

  When Mary Ann went limp, it was too much for Adelaide to resist. She screamed with pleasure as she slammed herself to the root. Orgasm crashed through her brain. Wave after wave of spunk gushed into her servant. She stuffed the woman full. Filled that hot womb with every drop of seed her magical cock could produce. It was pure bliss. All Adelaide could think of was the pleasure. Her whole body trembled as her hips thrust through the last few waves. By the end, she collapsed.

  Mary Ann’s limp corpse was still warm underneath Adelaide. She nuzzled into the dead woman’s neck. “Thank you.” It was the softest whisper, shared only between her and the servant who had given up everything.

  It took a moment for Adelaide to will herself to pull free. When she did, she paused to admire the shimmering dribble of cum that oozed from the corpse’s stuffed cunt. She rolled to her side with a satisfied sigh. Ranma gave her a teasingly smug look. “See? I told you that you’d like it.”

  “Your smugness baffles me.” Adelaide hummed.

  As the two spoke, Dalia shuffled over. She stared between the magic dick and the corpse for a long moment before she crawled onto the bed. Her warm lips wrapped around Adelaide’s tip. The Princess squeaked and looked down. A smile played on her lips. She stroked Dalia’s hair before gently pushing her down further. The servant had little trouble taking more cock. Her tongue trailed over the soft, faux flesh. Dalia lapped up the spunk. She carefully cleaned every inch of flesh.

  “I had not expected the lot of you to be so loyal as this…” Adelaide managed between moans. It came as no surprise that her dick was rock hard again. An idea came to her. “Ranma. Come closer.”

  The servant did so without hesitation. Ranma was about to hit her Princess with another snarky reply when a surprised moan escaped her. Adelaide placed her hand on the naked servant’s hip. A rush of warmth washed over her. Swirls of blue wrapped around the Princess’s fingers. They twirled and stretched the servant’s flesh. Ranma took several shaky breaths, her hips instinctively thrusting into the pleasure. A beautiful dick swung with her. She stared down at it in shock and wonder. “Holy shit! So that’s how that feels!”

  Ranma swung her new appendage back and forth. She burst out in laughter. Adelaide’s nose scrunched. “Focus on the task at hand. I wish for you to fill Dalia.”

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  Dalia looked back at Ranma with wide eyes. She spread her legs a little to give her space. Ranma admired the servant’s glistening pussy with a devilish grin. Her thumb hooked into the lower lips to get a better view. Dalia’s cunt winked at her. Practically begged for her to come inside. Who was Ranma to deny her? She pressed the tip in and nearly melted on the spot.

  “Holy shit– She’s so fucking hot… Princess, how did you even control yourself? Fuck…”

  Adelaide laughed. She rolled her hips into Dalia’s mouth. “I have used it for far longer than you have. Once you grow accustomed to it, it is an easier weapon to handle. Now be a dear and stuff her full.”

  Ranma swallowed. She took a steadying breath, then drove herself inside. Her fingers dug into Dalia’s hips. Ranma howled with pleasure. Unlike the Princess, who had some modicum of self-control, Ranma was a monster. She pounded the other servant with such reckless abandon that one would swear she was trying to kill her. The pleasure was overwhelming. It crushed out any semblance of conscious thought. Killed anything but the desire for more.

  Adelaide was not complaining. Every thrust drove Dalia further onto her cock. She took her time stuffing the woman’s throat. Precum and spit lubricated her dick. “Good girl. You are doing very well.”

  Dalia blushed. She tried to pull her head free to suck in a breath. Ranma’s brutal fucking battered all of the air out of her. The servant got about halfway up before Adelaide’s grip on her hair tightened. A terrified, yet excited, groan rumbled around the Princess’s cock. She knew where this was going.

  Adelaide shoved Dalia down until her throat was stretched around the faux meat. Her airway was entirely cut off. Any time she tried to breathe, Ranma came in from behind and slammed the oxygen out of her. Pleasure squelched and dripped down Dalia’s leg. Her hips instinctively slammed back into Ranma, only for her to be knocked forward and forced to swallow down another inch. Tears rolled down her face. The last proper noise she made was a choked groan.

  When Dalia’s body desperately choked for air, her throat stroked Adelaide’s dick. It spurred the Princess into action. She matched Ranma’s frantic pace until the room was choked with the sounds and smells of cruel, animalistic sex. It made the air thick. Ranma pumped faster, as if she were trying to beat Adelaide’s speed. Dalia spasmed between them. Her body twitched. Her nails dug into the Princess’s leg, and her legs kicked uselessly against her fellow servant. The struggles only pleasured each girl further. Made them pump harder. Two holes filled and stretched to capacity, mere moments from being stuffed.

  “Fuck… Princess! Cum for me! Please!” Ranma begged. It was the cutest and most desperate sound Adelaide had ever heard her make.

  Orgasm came before either woman realized what was happening. They both drove to their roots at the same time. Cum gushed into Dalia. It stuffed her deep. Stuffed her full. Her body spasmed in one last attempt for breath, but it was too late. Dalia died full of spunk. Ranma gripped her as she screamed with pleasure. Adelaide was quieter, but her orgasm was arguably more intense. She held Dalia down and hissed out her pleasure through her teeth.

  It was Ranma who collapsed back first. She plopped onto her rump and let the last few ropes of spunk splatter Dalia’s cute butt. Her eyes were glued to the drool of cum that oozed from her stuffed pussy. Adelaide basked in the warmth of pleasure, as well as the warmth of the dead woman’s throat. “This is better than I could have ever imagined. You four have done so well for me.”

  Leliana blushed. “I er… have yet to do much of anything at all.”

  “We can change that,” Ranma hummed.

  Adelaide pulled Dalia free, then rolled her onto her back. Her body was heavy. Death took her well. She was still blue in the face. Cum and slobber streaked her cheeks. Adelaide stroked her chest. She admired the dead woman for a long moment before returning to reality with a shake of her head. “Leliana. Come.”

  Leliana slid to the side of the bed. She stared down at the corpse. A rush of pleasure soaked her legs, and she blushed. “How may I be of service?”

  The Princess put her hands on either side of Dalia’s hips. Another rush of blue magic spread across the corpse’s skin. It took Adelaide far more energy to use her spell on the corpse. Sweat beaded on her brow, and her mouth went dry. Despite that, she grinned. A glorious cock stood on end. It even leaked a few beads of precum. “Ride this.”

  Leliana paled. She nodded and awkwardly straddled the dead woman. Her hips hovered inches above the dick. “You truly wish for me to ride a corpse?”

  “Of course,” Adelaide said, her words breathy. “Do it for me. For my pleasure.”

  Ranma smacked Leliana’s ass hard enough to make it jiggle. “You heard her! Drop on that thing and take it all. Come on.”

  When Leliana hesitated a moment longer, Ranma lost her patience. She grabbed her fellow servant by the hips and slammed her down on the faux dick. Leliana’s eyes bulged. She cried out in a strange mix of shock, pain, and pleasure. Her whole body went limp as it tried to recover from the sudden impalement. Leliana’s mouth gaped. Tears rolled down her cheeks. It burned in a way she had never experienced. A way that made her want– no, need– more.

  Leliana’s hips rolled on their own. Her pussy swallowed that dick with blinding desire. Ranma laughed. “Shit, she’s into it!”

  Adelaide smiled. She cupped Leliana’s cheek. “Good girl… take it all.”

  While Leliana rode her dead friend, Adelaide grabbed the other corpse. Mary Ann was heavier than she expected, but not completely unwieldy. She shifted her over so that her cunt was pressed against Dalia’s face. Cum oozed out all over it. Adelaide manipulated the corpse so that Mary Ann’s face was up against Leliana’s.

  “Kiss her. I want to see you take pleasure in the deaths of those you loved.”

  Leliana moaned. She moved on pure instinct, driving her tongue into the slack mouth of her dead friend. It tasted of salty cum. Leliana was more than happy to lap up the Princess’s load.

  Ranma grew impatient. Not particularly shocking for the bull-headed woman. She pushed Leliana forward slightly so that she had better access to her pussy. It did not matter that there was already a dick in there. Ranma wanted more. She whined when she realized she had to go slow. Groaned at the hot, crushing tightness. Her tip pushed in at an agonizing pace. Leliana cried out. More tears rolled down her cheeks, and a small sob of pain and pleasure escaped her. She leaned into the kiss, as if to distract herself from the stretching.

  Adelaide jerked her dick to the scene. Some part of her felt disgusted by what she had done. What she was doing. That part was not nearly loud enough to stop her. She settled her head on Mary Ann’s shoulder so that she could get a close-up view. Her hands wrapped around, as if hugging both the corpse and Leliana. They settled on the servant’s hips. “Good girl. Look at you, taking it so well. So hungry for your friends’ cocks. It is adorable. Such a lovely little slut. Do you want dick that badly? Here. Let me help you. I want you to feel as good as possible before I kill you, too.”

  The Princess put all of her weight down on Leliana’s hips. Both Ranma and the impaled woman let out shocked cries of pleasure. Leliana’s pussy was forced to swallow twin meat. Forced to choke it down and stretch to near bursting. She sobbed and moaned and could hardly put together a coherent thought. Her hips rolled, trying desperately to accommodate the crushing pleasure. Ranma gritted her teeth. She thrust as hard as she could, but could hardly get anywhere from the friction. It burned in the best way. Velvety and tight. So hot it could burn.

  Adelaide closed her eyes. She focused on the sounds. The salty smell of cum. The wet plaps and trembling breath. Her dick got harder by the second. She lifted her hands from Leliana’s hips. Adelaide trailed her fingers up the soft flesh of her servant’s sides. Her wandering paused for only a moment to grope and squeeze Leliana’s tits. She rolled her thumbs over her nipples. They were hard. Leliana shivered. Her moan echoed in Mary Ann’s mouth. Adelaide could not help but moan with her.

  The Princess only opened her eyes when her fingers trailed all the way up to her servant’s neck. There it was. Small and fragile. To kill someone with a dick or a rope was so much easier than to take them out with one’s bare hands. A small shot of fear made Adelaide’s dick twitch. She hesitated for just a moment, wondering if she should really do what she was doing. The Princess had already killed two of her loyal followers…

  And it had been the best feeling in the entire world.

  Besides, they had begged for it. They were the ones who told her to do it. It would be cruel to deny them what they so clearly desired. Adelaide wrapped her fingers around Leliana’s throat. That earned her a sob of delight. Leliana pounded herself down on the two dicks faster. Anticipation seemed to turn her on all the more.

  Adelaide squeezed. She crushed Leliana’s windpipe under her fingers. It strained. A sickening crunch filled the air. There was no going back after that. Adelaide leaned into it. She squeezed all of the air out of Leliana’s throat. The servant gasped. Gagged. Choked. Her sobs had turned to frantic wheezing. Instinct took over, and she thrashed about. Not that it did much to save her. Leliana was a lost cause.

  Ranma thrust faster. Adelaide squeezed tighter. She watched the light leave Leliana’s eyes. It was slow. The redder her face got, the more wild her gaze. Red, then purple. Leliana’s eyes bulged. Spit frothed up and smeared down her neck. Ranma pumped faster. She growled, “I’m close!”

  Leliana gave one last desperate spasm. One last chance to fight for her life. It wasn’t enough. Her eyes rolled back, and her face turned blue. That last moment of fight made her pussy clench tight. Ranma howled with pleasure. She slammed as hard as she could into Leliana’s cunt, then dumped her frantic load. It squelched out around the two cocks. Ranma buried her face in Leliana’s hair and screamed out her pleasure.

  Adelaide was far quieter. She focused on the strange feeling of Leliana’s windpipe shifting around as she made several more gasps for breath. Then, the servant was still. Quiet. Dead.

  The Princess let Ranma bask in pleasure as she set Mary Ann to the side. “You are lucky I am kind enough to share.”

  “Mmmf…” Ranma moaned, “Thank you, my liege.”

  Adelaide carefully maneuvered Dalia out from under Ranma and Leliana. She settled her beside Mary Ann. Ranma whined when the Princess pulled Leliana free as well. Her whimper went ignored. Adelaide admired her line of corpses. It warmed her heart in a way she did not know how to describe. As if this were meant to be. Ranma leaned over her shoulder to look at the pile.

  “Shit,” The servant muttered. “That’s hot.”

  Adelaide pulled Ranma around, then pushed her down on top of the pile. “Only one more left. Are you sure you wish to be suffocated for me?”

  Ranma’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Yes! More than anything!”

  “Very well.”

  Adelaide pushed Ranma back against the corpses. She straddled the woman, pressing her cunt against her servant’s cock. Ranma’s eyes widened. “Are– are you really going to? Oh, thank you, my liege! It is an honor.”

  The Princess merely grunted as she guided herself down on Ranma’s dick. It was soft and warm. The girth of it filled her perfectly, so that no spot was left unstimulated. A moan slid free. Adelaide rocked her hips slowly up and down, using a leg to make sure Ranma could not frantically pound her like she had the servants. The Princess pleasured herself on it. She took all the time she wanted, just enjoying the feeling.

  Ranma whined and whimpered. She squirmed under her Princess, desperate for more. “Please! I– I need it. Just hurry up.”

  Adelaide clicked her tongue. She grabbed a pillow and shoved it over Ranma’s face. “I have had enough of you. To think that you believed you could talk to your Princess in such a manner. Let me show you what you deserve.”

  The dirty talk was titillating for both of them. Particularly Ranma, whose dick managed to somehow get harder as she felt the lack of oxygen taking hold. No matter how she tried to breathe, the air was smothered. Her legs kicked and squirmed. Ranma jerked. Her dick slammed deep into Adelaide’s pussy.

  Ranma’s death was slower than the others, which gave Adelaide plenty of time to admire her sexy body. Particularly, how it looked against that of the corpses. Piled together, the four of them were perfect. The best servants a queen could ask for. Cum oozed from their holes. Drooled onto the sheets. They were stuffed, just the way they deserved. Adelaide could feel the way they shifted when Ranma struggled.

  The more the servant thrashed, the deeper her dick went. Precum helped slicken her entrance. Adelaide rolled her hips over the meat. She pleasured herself on its girth and on the wretched, jerking motions Ranma made as she fought for her life. It was hot. Thick. Adelaide groaned. She watched those movements weaken. It only turned her on more.

  Ranma’s skin paled all over. Her gasps and wheezes were muffled by the pillow. Occasionally, when she managed enough breath for it, Ranma moaned. It was a losing battle. Whatever oxygen she managed through the fabric was soon exhausted. The tiny bursts she got from little wrinkles or enough struggling were not nearly enough to fuel her dying body. All the while, Adelaide crushed the air out of her when she slammed herself down.

  Pleasure built up with every thrust. Adelaide let go of Ranma’s hips so that the woman could do as she wished. All attempts to fight for freedom were forgotten. Instead, Ranma set to jackhammering into her lover. She grabbed Adelaide’s hips and slammed herself inside with animalistic abandon. Every last ounce of adrenaline-fueled panic pumped through Ranma’s veins. It did not matter that it killed her faster. It did not matter how her vision blurred and faded. All she wanted was to cum.

  Adelaide cried out with ecstasy. Ranma’s energy was overwhelming. She slammed her hips down and ground her pussy into the woman’s assault. “Yes! Fill me! Such a good girl. Fill me with your seed. Cum in me. I need it. Ranma!”

  Ranma’s vision faded. All but her hips went entirely limp. She made some wheezing gasp that could have been a moan were she any more alive. Her hands fell loose at Adelaide’s side. Ranma pushed her hips as deep as she could go. She held on for as long as she could before the flood crashed over her. Cum gushed into the Princess. It stuffed her. Filled her. The heat of it drove her wild. Ranma thrust once. Twice. Then fell entirely still. Ranma was dead.

  Adelaide came the moment Ranma’s heart stopped. Spunk splattered the dead servant’s face. It tangled in her hair and dashed across her lips. Adelaide rolled up and down the dick. Her pussy clamped around it, trembling from the pleasure. She squirted hard all over Ranma’s legs. It was the most intense, mind-crushing orgasm she had ever experienced. Her vision went white, and her eyes rolled back. Adelaide howled with pleasure. She dug her fingers into the corpse as if she would fly off at any moment. Her whole body shivered, then she collapsed forward.

  The princess lay upon her throne of corpses for some time. She basked in the feeling of cum bubbling from her cunt. Adelaide let her eyes flutter shut. “My dearest servants… How I love you.”

  The corpses felt cold under Adelaide. She nuzzled into them, taking comfort in their stillness. No part of her wanted to move. This was perfect. Perhaps she would keep them. It would be a shame to let such perfect corpses go to waste. Besides, the servants had given everything to her. The least she could do was appreciate their sacrifice.

Hi, this is my first story here. Not sure it completely fits since nobody dies. That's not really what I'm into, and it's hard to find stories like this so I wrote one myself.

My career as a gigolo had taken me to some bizarre places, but nothing like this. My client had taken me to a secret party on a private island, one where, as I was relieved to learn, everyone in attendance was an adult and was there willingly.

My client tonight, actually my only client lately, was Vivian. She was younger than the women I typically serve, at 31 years old, and by far the most attractive client I'd ever had. Any man would want her, but she preferred a partner who was well hung, discreet and on her payroll. She had been a wild child in her younger years, but when her nine-figure trust fund was threatened unless she stopped embarrassing the family, she traded drugs and alcohol for an addiction to adrenaline.

Vivian sat next to me on the leather couch and lifted up her skirt. Normally this would be my cue to go down on her, as I had the whole helicopter ride over, but now there was a metal chastity belt in the way.

"They're going to start in a minute or so" she smiled "God this is fucking exciting"

The partygoers finished congregating in the small, leather clad theater in the basement of the mansion. A spotlight illuminated a small stage in the center and a woman took to the stage. She was gorgeous. Tall, perfect D cup breasts, wide hips and the face of a movie star, she wore a tight gold corset top and a matching skirt perfectly tailored to her curves which made her figure look almost impossible. Vivian has explained that this was Hailey, her friend from boarding school and the owner of the mansion. She had married a 70 year old billionaire at 23 and inherited everything when he died 4 years ago. Viv was scared of her.

"Hello everyone, and welcome to the 4th annual pussy-off party! Now can we have all of our guests of honor join me?"

Vivian got up and joined Hailey on stage, as well as four other women, all of them looking absolutely resplendent.

"And of course, the star of the show" Hailey continued "Dr. Ramon Angel Ramirez Garcia"

A middle aged hispanic man in a white coat joined them.

"Now, Dr. Ramirez, could you explain to our first time guests who you are and what you're going to be doing tonight."

"Yes, ahh" he spoke with a thick Mexican accent "I operate a surgical center in Ciudad de Mexico specializing in... ahh... gender confirming procedures"

"Oh don't sell yourself short" Hailey interjected "He's the best in the business. People come to his clinic from around the world, and he's not cheap. Anyway, sorry to interrupt. Now describe the procedure you performed at the last 3 years at this party"

"Ah yes... so the surgery is known as a full nullification. We ah... remove the uterus, ovaries and fallopian tubes, then the cervix, vagina, and vulva and relocate the urethra to an opening near the perineum."

A room behind them lit up. It was a surgical theater. Nurses in scrubs were beginning to prepare it. Large screens lit up behind Hailey showing a close up of the surgical table. A silver key sat on it.

Hailey then asked each of the other women to remove their skirts. They all wore identical metal chastity belts, sealed with a lock. The belts were number 1 to 5. Vivian was number 5.

"Each of these belts is sealed with a key, and without it, they can't be opened. One of those keys is sitting in the surgical theater, and won't be used until the person wearing the belt is lying on that table unconscious. What that means is, whichever one of you used that key on the table has seen your pussy for the last time. In fact I would go so far as to say that of the five people standing in front of me, only four have cunts. For all intents and purposes, one of you already took your pussy off when you closed that lock. Hence the name of the party"

I knew what the party was, but it was still the most insane thing Vivian had ever done, and just a month ago she jumped out of an airplane naked without a parachute and trusted me to catch her. I just hoped I could fuck her afterwards the way I had that day.

Vivian returned to the seat next to me. I could hear her heart pounding and smell her sweat. She was enjoying this. Hailey continued.

"Now Dr. Ramirez, you have recently started offering a new version of this procedure that isn't available anywhere else in the world. Care to explain?"

"Ahh yes... so the new procedure offered by my clinic is referred to as a full nullification with partial clitoral salvage, FN-PCS for short. The difference is, rather than remove the internal parts of the clitoris, which is the majority of the tissue, it is relocated to the area that was previously occupied by the posterior walls of the vagina. Patients report a drastic increase in pleasurable sensations from anal penetration after a recovery time of 4-6 months."

Hailey grinned. "Almost sounds too good to be true, doesn't it? When the doc told me about the new procedure last year, I thought it sounded like science fiction. Since it's such a brand new procedure, I decided not to have it be the main attraction of the night until I could see the results after it had been fully healed. Bring out Bitch!"

A man wheeled a metal cage to the foot of the stage and opened it. A woman got out of the cage. She wore latex pants and was naked above the waist. A gold chain was strung through the thick hoops pierced through each of her nipples, nostrils and earlobes, and her head and eyebrows had been completely shaved. "Hailey's Bitch" was tattooed on the bottom half of each of her perky breasts.

"Those of you who have been to one of these parties before are familiar with Bitch. She was one of our guests of honor at the last three pussy-offs, but she won't be participating tonight. Bitch, stand up and show everyone what the results of the FN-PCS procedure looks like!"

The slave girl stood up, but instead of removing her own pants, she ripped Hailey's skirt down. Hailey wasn't wearing panties. Why would she? There was nothing there. A cameraman kneeled in to get a closeup of her scarred crotch which displayed on the screen. Most of the people in the room gasped.

"Whoa! Plot twist!" Vivian nudged me "But not that surprising now that I think of it, Hailey was known as the anal queen back in school. That bald girl is her wife by the way. She's the CFO of the firm that manages my trust fund. Barely recognized her without the fancy business suit, and I guess she's been wearing a wig the whole time."

"I decided that this would be the year I put on the belt myself, but then I changed my mind and thought, why leave it to chance? Besides, you'd all say I rigged it if I won anyway. Do I have any regrets? I regret not having it done sooner, and maybe I regret structuring this party so that there is no fucking until the surgery starts. You'll see that 'drastic increase in pleasurable sensations' soon enough. Of course when I want more kids, I won't be able to carry them myself, but fortunately I've got frozen eggs and own a spare womb" She laughed and patted Bitch's belly.

A large digital clock started ticking down from an hour, and we got up and mingled.

The first couple we talked to was Kevin and Lacy. Kevin was the heir to a real estate empire and Lacy was a famous artist I was too unsophisticated to have ever heard of. They had attended all four of these parties, but this was Lacy's first time actually risking her parts. She wore number 1. The first two parties, she had attempted to sign up been ineligible because she had given birth too recently. Last year, she was rejected because she hadn't lost enough of the baby weight. They apparently have very high beauty standards for the participants. After a year of intense workouts, she had finally been accepted. Now that she heard about the new procedure, she wasn't mad about last year anymore. She had trained herself to cum from nipple stimulation, and masturbated multiple times a day imagining her sex organs being sliced out and tossed in a medical waste receptacle while a room full of people watched. That was an odd thing to tell a stranger but this was a kink-positive space.

Bella, participant number 2, started chatting with my while Vivian was reuniting with some old friends. She could tell I was the only other person there with a net worth low enough to have flown in economy. Bella was a bit of an enigma. Incredibly horny but was completely repulsed by the idea of being penetrated, she was obsessed with giving oral to both men and women. She opened her mouth wide and pulled out her dentures. All of her teeth had been pulled to make more room for cock. She was in a committed, but open, BDSM relationship with a married couple in Seattle, and had pledged to never cum again for the rest of her life, focusing only on their pleasure. She took that pledge very seriously, and had been trying to make it impossible to break by having her genitals removed. Unfortunately, Bella was 23 and no doctor in the states would perform such an operation on a woman as young as her, lest her future husband decide he wanted kids. She flew to Mexico City to visit Dr. Ramirez but found the procedure she wanted to be way out of her price range even when converted to pesos, but a member of his staff did mention there might be a way to get financial assistance for the procedure. Later that night, a man came to her hotel room with an invite to this party.

Vivian came back with number 4, a stunning Korean woman who went by Cindy. She had already discarded the rest of her clothing, aside from the belt. Her areolas had been removed and replaced with heart shaped tattoos, she had an intricate pattern of scarification across her belly and chest, and her tongue had been split.

"I hear you've got a 10 inch cock!" she said to me, licking her lips with her forked tongue. This girl did not like small talk.

"8 and a quarter" I replied bashfully "but it's the girth that really makes it special"

"Don't hate me... but I made a deal with Cindy" Viv said to me

"Oh yeah, what kind of a deal" I asked

"Well, if I do wind up losing my pussy tonight, I told Cindy she could have you for the rest of the night. Obviously you're still getting paid, hope that's ok"

"You mean if you already lost your pussy when you closed the lock, isn't that what Hailey said?" I corrected her

"Wowwww!" Cindy responded "Big girthy cock and he listens, I'm dripping through my belt. you better be careful or I'll steal him for good"

"Well enjoy that dripping while you can 'cause your pussy is coming off! or I guess, it already did when you closed the belt." Vivian trash talked back, slapping Cindy's damp groin.

The only other participant I hadn't talked to seemed to be very popular, I felt like I had seen her but I couldn't remember where. Vivian laughed when I didn't recognize her. Apparently she was a famous porn star who had recently retired. The rules of the party strictly forbid anyone from being paid to participate, but she had entered to raise money for her local animal shelter, which was allowed. She was willing to sacrifice her pussy to saved pussies. How noble.

The clock hit half an hour and a bell rang. Hailey directed the participants to line up. She explained that every 10 minutes from now on, they would be unlocking a belt, until only two were left when the clock hit zero. The women tried the first key in order. Lacy tried to jam it in, but it wouldn't open the lock. Bella put the key in, and it slid into the lock with ease, as it popped off and the metal belt clanged to the floor.

"Whooooo!" She smiled and cried out, but I could tell that here eyes were saying "FUCK!" Bella was probably the only one here who was hoping to get the surgery.

Cindy's belt was the next to come off. The party wouldn't be an orgy for 20 more minutes but that didn't stop her from lying down spread eagle in front of us and showing off the body parts that Vivian now had a 1 in 3 chance of losing. I noticed that inside of Cindy's spread lips, she had a Princess Albertina piercing. I'd never seen one in person and it didn't look particularly comfortable. Vivian punched my arm for staring and told me to go get her another glass of water at the bar.

Bella was sitting at the bar by herself, she had a relieved look on her face. I thought maybe she had come to her senses and realized she didn't want to lose her pussy after all.

"Sorry you didn't get the surgery" I tried to console her.

"Oh so actually... This guy came up to me after I took the belt off. He was all like 'I've already decided that you will wake up tomorrow without a vagina'." she repeated in a stern but mocking tone. "...and I was like 'nooo not my pussy... how much?'. Turns out that they do this surgery with robots and it doesn't take that long, so we have time to squeeze another one in tonight. He's going to pay for my nullification surgery and the whole recovery. The catch is it's a different procedure without the clit thing, but I didn't care about that anyway, and he's going to give me a quarter mil on top of it. I shoulda asked for more, now that I think of it."

"Oh congrats, that was nice of him." I responded. It seemed like a bizarre thing to congratulate someone for. I still couldn't comprehend why she would be so happy about that, but it wasn't the weirdest fetish I had encountered in my line of work

"I wouldn't say he was being nice. The deal is that he will get to keep all my lady bits as a trophy. Turns out the surgery to get everything out in one piece is a little more invasive." She pointed to a waitress, a tall, elegant brunette with wavy black hair who had come by our table a few times, I think her name was Elena. "She got hers taken out in one piece a year ago. She showed me her scar. It's pretty gnarly but I actually think it looks way hotter than what the hostess got. Like what if master and mistress make me go to the beach in my little red bikini with no way to hide my scar and everyone is staring at it. Hnnnngghh... Sorry what was I saying? Oh yeah. Apparently this guy's a collector."

"And here I only collect Pokémon cards" I joked back.

"Well, I'm selling my Vulvasaur. It's very rare apparently, since I'm still a virgin. One woman's trash is another man's treasure I guess".

"You're a virgin?" I was surprised to hear that from someone who had all her teeth pulled so she could better suck cock.

"Only down below" she clarified. She lifted up her skirt to show that she had put the chastity belt back on. "He made me wear this so I don't decide to take my pussy for a first and last spin. Same deal, key is locked away and won't be used until I'm unconscious. If he knew me at all he'd know that wasn't necessary".

Meanwhile, the bell sounded and it was time for the next belt to come off. Vivian could only watch as the key opened the third belt and it fell to the floor, leaving only her and Lacy belted. I embraced her as she walked back to me. There was fear in her eyes but I could smell her arousal. The scent was even more powerful than the time she took her '95 Viper around the Nürburgring.

"God I can't wait for you to fuck me when this thing comes off" she whispered in my ear, always the optimist.

We sought out Lacy, the only other wearer of a belt remaining. She was sitting with her husband Kevin.

"Are you worried?" I asked Kevin.

"A little bit, more about the surgery itself if that is her key on the table. We've role played this scenario a lot and nothing turns her on anywhere close. We did a few trial runs where she kept it sewn shut for a week or so and we pretend she already got nullified, and let me tell you, she has never been hornier. I suppose it will be a little disappointing if she only gets to participate once but we'll attend every year either way".

"But what about you?" I asked

"If I end up with a wife who doesn't have periods and always wants anal, I'll survive."

"Fair enough"

As the clock ticked to 5 minutes, they rolled out two hospital beds. Lacy and Vivian were ordered to strip and lie on the beds. A nurse inserted an IV in each of their arms.

Hailey got on the stage. She was still wearing only her top, not that there was much left to hide on her bottom half. "The owner of the unlucky key is currently receiving a dose of anesthesia that will knock her unconscious, and she will wake up without a pussy. The other one is receiving a harmless injection of saline, and in a few minutes will be unlocked and allowed to enjoy the party with the rest of you once that clock hits zero."

As the clock ticked down, Hailey inserted the key in Vivian's lock. I suppose Vivian kind of gave away the outcome by tilting her head down to watch. The lock popped open. Lacy was passed out on the bed next to her.

The nurses rolled Lacy into the surgical suite as Vivian beckoned me over. She shoved my face into her crotch. Her cunt was perfectly smooth, having been prepped for surgery just over an hour ago, and my fingers slid in with zero resistance to tease her G spot. I ate her out for half an hour on the surgical bed and lost track of how many times she came. Eventually, she grabbed me by the hair and pulled my head up.

"They're starting the surgery now"

Lacy's legs were held up in stirrups and the opening to her vagina had been spread impossibly wide. Stainless steel robot arms had been positioned in the opening, ending at her cervix. Dr Martinez was operating the robots from a console that looked like an arcade cabinet. One of the TV screens behind the stage showed a close up of her doomed pussy while the other one showed the view from inside from the cameras on the robot arms. Vivian led me to a couch where she could watch the screens while I fucked her from behind as Hailey began to narrate.

"First, the cervix is being removed in order to grant easier access to the uterus and ovaries."

The robot arm pulled a circular piece of flesh out of the opening and deposited it on a metal tray. I was trying to pace myself. Even though I had taken Viagra, it was going to be a long night and I knew Vivian wasn't going to run out of stamina any time soon. As soon as that first severed piece of Lacy hit the tray, I felt Vivian's pelvic muscles clench. Between narrating, Hailey invited various partygoers to fuck her in the ass. Judging by the noises and facial expressions she made, her surgery had worked as advertised. She stumbled back to the stage.

"Now Dr. Martinez is removing the uterus. It's coming out in pieces to minimize damage to the surrounding tissue."

I noticed Kevin watching with a mix of intrigue and horror as the womb that bore him three children was ripped to shreds and discarded. Meanwhile, Vivian pushed me onto my back and got on top of me.

"And here come the ovaries" Hailey narrated as the robot arms pulled two spherical glands out of the opening. Vivian gyrated faster and faster and I couldn't keep myself from busting. Mercifully, she got off of me and sat on my face while I recharged. Eating my own cum out of Vivian didn't even phase me anymore. I could only hear the narration now.

"Now the tissue that makes up the vaginal walls is being removed, one small strip at a time. Of course he is being careful not to damage the bladder, urethra or internal structure of the clitoris." Hailey narrated.

Vivian was finally ready to take a break and enjoy the buffet. It's hard to believe anyone can eat while watching this, but she'd had to fast as part of the surgery prep. I wrapped my arms around her sweaty body as she intently watched the robot arms slice away at the tender walls of Lacy's sex and quickly but precisely seal the blood vessels and close the flesh behind them. Lacy's urethra and the piece of flesh that must have been her internal clitoris were clamped into place in the empty space left behind.

"Next, the inner labia and outer parts of the clitoris are removed in order to leave behind a smooth groin with minimal scarring" Hailey explained while lifting her leg and rubbing the tiny scar where her own pussy used to reside, to remind everyone what it would eventually look like.

I rubbed Vivian's clit as the man in Lacy's boat was thrown overboard, then her meaty inner labia were sliced off cleanly. The last of the art had been removed from the artist and they began sealing her up.

"And that's it. Our unlucky participant officially no longer has a vagina. Don't go anywhere though, because we've got a bonus round coming up in about an hour and you're going to want to see it"

Hailey came over to our couch and looked at me.

"What do you say, big guy, want to take it for a spin."

"No, he's mine" Vivian interjected "Let me do it."

Vivian put on a strap that was even larger than my cock and lubed it up. It slid in to Hailey's gaping hole without resistance and she started moaning like a banshee as Vivian thrust into her, rubbing her groin as if there was still anything there. she shot a stream of liquid out of the hole at the bottom of her scar all over Vivian's belly and tits.

"Whoa, you can still do that?" I asked, surprised. Hailey laughed at me.

"Of course I can still 'do that'! When are men going to learn? It's just pee!"

Vivian pulled out of Hailey's ass and leaned in to give a rim job and closely inspect the skin that used to be Hailey's pussy.

"Wow, you can barely tell there was ever anything there. Of course I'm glad it isn't me in the surgical room tonight but a part of me almost wishes it was."

"Well we're... taking sign ups... for next year." Hailey informed her, breathing heavily as Vivian fisted her ass and licked her scar.

"I'm in" Vivian responded in a split second "In fact, just assume I'm in for as long as I can still have it. Tonight felt better than smoking crack, and I would know."

Meanwhile, Lacy's surgery was done. The nurses and cleaners scrubbed the room and set it up for another operation, then they wheeled in another bed with Bella, already unconscious from the anesthesia. Hailey took the stage again as they unlocked the belt and put her legs in the stirrups.

"Surprise! Continuing our tradition from last year, we have a bonus round, courtesy of Kenny, everyone give Kenny a round of applause. After all, it's only 10:30 and you better not be getting be tired yet. Participant number two has graciously agreed to sacrifice her own womanhood to keep the party going, but this is going to be a different procedure. The whole thing is going to be cut out in one piece and preserved, which means that it's going to require a more aggressive approach. Dr. Martinez is starting start by making a circular incision around the vulva and a vertical incision up to the belly button and through the abdominal walls. Of course, if this were being done so that someone could keep her organs as a trophy, that would be highly illegal and someone could go to jail"

The entire room burst out in laughter at the thought of any of them being subject to laws.

Bella's surgery what would be considered old school. The surgeon had to operate by hand rather than with a robot, so the camera didn't provide a great view, but his hand was steady and he took great care to sever all the connective tissue with as little collateral damage as possible. He had to be perfect; this was his Super Bowl.

By the time he had finished cutting, I had cum inside of Vivian so many times that no amount of Viagra could keep me going, so I had switched to using a vibrator, and yet she still begged for more. The room roared in applause as Hailey announced that it was time for everything to come out, and the surgeon reached in, yanked out Bella's entire reproductive system with one flick of the wrist and dropped it in a jar of preservative. It was smaller than I would have imagined, but it's absence still left a gaping hole in Bella's midsection. It took longer to fill the cavity and stitch Bella up than it had taken to cut everything out. Many of the guests had departed by the time the surgeon was done but Vivian never averted her eyes. Even though she was out cold, it still looked like she was cracking a smile.

"You really ready for it to be you on that table?" I asked Vivian

"Fuck no!" She responded "I love my pussy, but what's the point of living if you're afraid to take risks"

Carly and I are standing in line at our favorite little coffee shop. I love our little Sunday morning routine: quick jog, then stop here for a pastry and a coffee. I love listening to the sounds of this little cafe. The chatter of the customers, the hiss of the espresso machine, the whir of the coffee grinder, there's something oddly comforting about it, like a white noise machine.

The line moves quickly, and we reach the front of the queue. "What'll it be this morning, the usual?" the barista asks. We're here often enough that he knows us, although for the life of me I can't remember his name.

"Yup, the usual," I say with a chipper smile.

"Actually," Carly interrupts, raising a finger, "decaf for me today." I turn to her, gawking.

"Decaf? Really?" I ask with exaggerated shock.

Carly just gives me a mysterious little smile and doesn't say a word as she pays. We move toward the pickup counter and wait for our names to be called. The air is thick with the scent of roasted beans and cinnamon, but my mind is racing. That look she gave me, she has news.

We find a small, circular table in the back of the shop, tucked away from the main rush of the morning crowd. As soon as we sit down and the coffee is placed before us, Carly leans in. We each take a sip. Then, I put my cup down and place my hands on the table, an amused smile on my face.

"Okay, come on," I say, "spill it."

"Spill what?" Carly asks, clearly amused by my chiding.

"Decaf, really?" I ask. "You've never ordered decaf in your life, you actually seem to have a moral objection to it. So what's up?"

Carly doesn't answer right away. She just watches me over the rim of her cup, her eyes sparkling in a way that makes my heart skip. "Okay, you got me," she says. "We were waiting to tell people until we talked to the doctor, so keep this to yourself but...Katrina, I'm pregnant."

The world seems to pause for a second. My shock is instant and electric, and my face lights up. "Oh my god, Carly! Really?" I practically shout, leaning across the table to grab her arm. I don't care if the people at the next table are staring. I'm beaming, the kind of joy that makes your chest feel too small for your lungs. "That is incredible! Oh, I'm so happy for you!"

Carly laughs, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of joy and something more subdued. "We're still processing it," she admits, glancing down at her stomach. "Greg and I are both completely overwhelmed, but we are so excited. We just can't believe it's actually happening."

"Oh I know, it must all be hitting you," I say, still smiling so broadly my face hurts, "I know you two have been trying for a while, I'm just so happy for you."

Carly doesn't respond immediately. Instead, she wraps both her hands around her coffee cup, pulling it close to her chest as if seeking warmth. The sparkle in her eyes shifts into something heavier, a look of cautious anticipation that makes the hair on my arms stand up. She takes a slow breath, her gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that feels like a physical weight.

"Kit Kat," she says, her voice dropping an octave, "I have something big I need to ask you."

My stomach drops. The warmth of the coffee and the high of the announcement vanish, replaced by a cold, sinking sensation that settles deep in my gut. I know this transition. I know the precise moment where a celebration of new life pivots into a conversation about the price of that life. I already know what she's going to ask, and I already know how I'm going to answer. She knows too. But this is all part of the dance, we both have to go through the motions anyway. "Okay," I say, nodding with a smile.

Carly's expression softens, her grip on the cup tightening. "We don't know the gender yet," she whispers, her voice trembling slightly. "But if it's a girl, Katrina, I want you to be the sacrifice."

I take a deep breath, feeling the air hitch in my chest for a fleeting second before I force my features into a mask of serene acceptance. I nod, my smile widening to hide the tremor in my jaw. "Of course I'll be the sacrifice," I tell her, my voice steady and warm. "I'm honored that you and Greg would name your daughter after me. Truly."

Carly lets out a long, shuddering sigh of relief, the tension leaving her shoulders as she leans back into the vinyl booth. She reaches across the table to squeeze my hand, her palm warm and slightly damp. The weight of the agreement hangs between us, a silent pact written in the laws of our world. The balance must be maintained; a new soul enters, and an old one must depart. It is a simple, brutal equation that keeps our society from collapsing under the weight of its own numbers. It's traditional to ask someone to be your sacrifice. Technically, in theory, you could say no...but no one ever does.

"When do you plan on finding out the gender?" I ask, my voice remaining light and conversational. I start to fiddle with the cardboard sleeve of my coffee cup, peeling back a tiny corner of the paper. I need something to do with my hands to stop them from shaking.

Carly looks away, staring out the window at the morning traffic. "I think we're going to wait until the start of the third trimester," she says softly. "By that point, it'll be unlikely that anything would prevent the pregnancy from going to term. After all, it would be terrible to sacrifice someone only to not actually have a baby." She turns back to me, a small, hopeful smile returning to her lips. "We'll have a baby shower and reveal the gender there."

"Third trimester," I nod, "so about...six months?"

"More like five," she responds, "I haven't talked to the doctor yet but I've probably already been pregnant for a couple weeks."

"Five months," I nod. I pause and take a sip of my coffee. "Good, that'll give me a chance to get my affairs in order."

Carly reaches out and squeezes my hand again, her expression full of a sweetness that feels almost cruel given the circumstances. We spend the rest of the hour talking about nursery colors and cribs and preschools, the conversation drifting naturally from the mundane to the morbid. We discuss who will handle my final bank transfers and which of my books should go to whom. The topic of my funeral comes up and I mention, feeling oddly casual about it, that I've always wanted an open casket. It is a strange, floating feeling, knowing that my expiration date has been tentatively set, yet feeling a genuine warmth for my friend.

By the time we stand up to leave, the coffee shop is buzzing with the midday rush. The hiss of the espresso machine continues, the same comforting white noise, but now it feels like a countdown. As we walk out into the bright sunlight, I feel a sudden, sharp pinch of grief for the version of myself that didn't know. I look at Carly, her hand resting protectively over her stomach, and I realize that for her, this is the beginning of everything. For me, it's the slow march to the end.

"Hey," Carly says, apparently noticing the look on my face. I'd let the mask slip. "It's still only a fifty-fifty chance it's a girl."

I chuckle, though it sounds more like a rattle in my throat. "I know, I know. I'm just being dramatic. I'm totally fine." I squeeze her shoulder, leaning in to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Besides, five months, that's plenty of time to get ready."

The time passes in a blur of checklists and quiet goodbyes. I spend my weekends cleaning out my closets and my evenings staring at the ceiling, wondering if the coin flip of a chromosome will actually land on my side. Every time I see Carly, her belly grows a little more prominent, a ripening fruit that signals my own harvest. We don't talk about the noose during our lunches, nor do we discuss the stool; we talk about the softness of organic cotton onesies and the best brands of strollers. It's strange, we talk about pushing strollers and changing diapers and midnight feedings, as if I'm going to be there to go through any of it with her. And to be fair, I suppose I still might be.

Five months later, I find myself standing in Carly's living room. The house is filled with the scent of expensive lilies and vanilla candles, a fragrance so thick it feels like it's coating my lungs. About half a dozen women are scattered around the room, all of us dressed in airy, floral sun dresses that make us look like a garden in mid July. We sip chilled champagne from crystal flutes, the bubbles dancing against our lips, while Carly sits centrally in a plush armchair, the only one without a drink in her hand. She looks radiant, her skin glowing with that particular pregnancy sheen that makes her seem almost ethereal.

I look good too, I had my hair, makeup and eyebrows done this morning, I even got waxed. If this is going to be the day I die, I'm gonna go out looking my best.

In the corner of the room, a thick hemp noose dangles from a heavy ceiling beam, hanging directly over a plain wooden stool. It looks out of place against the delicate wallpaper and the soft pastel decorations, but no one is staring at it. We all know why it's there. I take a slow sip of my champagne, the cold liquid stinging my throat, and shift my gaze to the only man in the room. He is standing by the buffet table, wearing a crisp polo shirt and khaki shorts, looking vaguely uncomfortable.

I approach him, offering a small, polite smile. "You must be Adam, Greg's friend," I say, extending my hand. He nods, his expression cautious, and shakes my hand with a brief, firm grip. "I'm Katrina," I say with a friendly smile.

"Ah, the other sacrifice," he says with a nod.

I let out a soft laugh. "If it's a girl, that is."

"Right," Adam says, his voice tight. "If it's a girl." He looks toward the kitchen, where the cake is waiting.

"So, have you gotten any hints?" I ask. "I mean...on the gender?"

Adam shakes his head, his eyes darting toward the noose in the corner and then back to me. "No. Honestly, from what I've heard, Greg and Carly don't even know. They had their doctor tell the baker the gender directly." He gestures toward the kitchen. "When they cut the cake, if it's pink, it's a girl. If it's blue, it's a boy."

I roll my eyes, a small, bitter laugh escaping my lips. "I wish they would've at least let us know," I reply, "I mean I get wanting it to be a surprise, but it'd be nice to know which one of us is going to die."

Adam looks at me with a mixture of pity and curiosity. "Are you worried? I mean, you have your affairs in order, right?"

I shrug, the silk of my dress shifting against my skin. "Yeah, everything's set. I'm ready to die. I just wish I could have known for a few days, ya know? It feels like it'd be easier to come here already knowing, ya know? If there wasn't some part of me holding out hope that I'd leave here alive."

"Yeah, I get that," Adam nods, looking past me to the noose that's waiting for one of us. "But Carly's always had a flare for the dramatic, and this is her day."

"Yeah I know," I say with a sigh.

"Besides, it won't be long now," he says, taking a sip of his drink.

I nod, the weight of the moment settling in my chest. I look at him, really looking at the tension in his jaw and the way he keeps glancing toward the kitchen. "Tell me something, Adam," I say, my voice dropping to a whisper. "Honestly. Do you hope it's a boy or a girl?"

"I mean, honestly?" He said with an awkward shrug. "I'm hoping for girl...sorry."

I can't help but smile, a genuine one this time, as I look back at him. "No get it," I say, looking down at my champagne flute, "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hoping for boy."

"No hard feelings," he said with a smile, "we both want to live, no shame in that."

The moment of shared honesty is broken by Carly, who claps her hands to get the room's attention. She is beaming, her face flushed with a mix of excitement and nervous energy. "Okay everyone, the time has finally come!" she announces, her voice ringing through the living room. "It's time to cut the cake. Katrina, Adam, could you both be so kind as to bring it in and set it on the table for us?"

Adam and I move in unison toward the kitchen, our footsteps muffled by the thick cream carpet. We enter the kitchen and find the cake resting on the counter, a towering creation of white buttercream and delicate sugar flowers. We carry it together, a fragile bridge between two people who are currently gambling with their lives. As we set it down on the central table, the room goes silent, the only sound being the soft hum of the air conditioner. Adam reaches over and hands me the silver cake knife, his fingers brushing mine for a brief second. I look up to see the whole room staring at us in anticipation. Carly is smiling, one hand under her baby bump, the other resting on top of it.

I feel my chest tighten, and I realize I am holding my breath, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. I slide the blade into the soft frosting and pull out a single, generous slice. As the cake separates, the interior is revealed, and my stomach drops through the floor. The sponge is a vibrant, unmistakable pink. I freeze, staring at the color as if it were a physical blow, the world blurring around the edges of my vision. For a moment, I cannot move, cannot breathe, can only see that shocking shade of pink. That's it, with that my life is over, I'm really about to die. The will I wrote, the funeral arrangements I made, they're not hypothetical anymore. I look up and see the other women, gathered around the room, all staring at me. They still have plastic smiles spread across their faces and suddenly I realize, I've let the mask slip.

I quickly force a smile and place the slice on a small porcelain plate. I hand the knife back to Adam, my hand trembling slightly. I look directly at Carly, who is practically vibrating with anticipation. "Congratulations," I say, my voice sounding distant and hollow in my own ears, "it's a girl!" The room erupts into a chorus of cheers and applause, the sound echoing off the walls. The women are clapping and laughing, their joy filling the space while I feel a cold numbness spreading through my limbs. Without a word, I turn and walk across the room. The floral fabric of my dress swishes against my legs as I approach the corner. I step up onto the wooden stool, feeling the small, hard surface beneath my heels. Weird, the seat seems so much smaller now that I'm standing on it.

Adam begins to slice the cake, the rhythmic sound of the knife hitting the plate providing a steady beat to the celebration. Carly stands up from her chair and glides toward me, her pregnant belly leading the way. She is smiling up at me, her eyes shimmering with a terrifying kind of affection. I keep my smile broad and fake, staring down at her through the loop of the noose. "Could you put your hands behind your back for me Kit Kat?" she asks softly. She pulls a strip of white silk ribbon from her pocket. I do as I'm told, crossing my wrists behind my waist. I take a deep breath as she steps around behind my back.

The feeling of the ribbon tightening around my wrists is sudden and precise. Carly works with a focused efficiency, looping the fabric and pulling it tight until my wrists are locked together. She doesn't rush, taking her time to ensure the knot is secure, her fingers brushing against my skin in a way that feels hauntingly intimate. As she finishes, I glance over my shoulder toward the center of the room. The other women have already formed a neat, orderly line for cake, their floral dresses fluttering as they shuffle forward. They are chatting animatedly, their voices a blur of excitement and curiosity, all of them eager to taste the pink cake. It feels so surreal. The clinking of plates and silverware is the soundtrack to the last few minutes of my life.

Carly steps back around to face me, her expression one of pure, radiant love. She reaches up and grips the heavy hemp of the noose, her knuckles white. "Lift your chin for me, Kit Kat," she whispers. I obey, tilting my head back and staring into the ceiling, feeling the vulnerability of my exposed throat. With a gentle, steady movement, Carly slips the coil over my head. She takes a moment to carefully brush a few stray hairs through the rope, ensuring it sits perfectly against my skin before she pulls the loop tight. The hemp is coarse and abrasive, hugging the contours of my neck with a sudden, suffocating pressure. My breath hitches, a sharp gasp that catches in my throat, and a jolt of electricity shoots through me. To my utter bewilderment, the terror is accompanied by a surge of intense, pulsing arousal. I can feel my nipples hardening, straining against the fabric of my dress, as a heat blossoms deep in my core. What the hell is that about?

Carly rests the thick coils of the rope on my shoulder, leaning in close. I finally lower my chin and look down at her again. Her eyes search mine, searching for any sign of hesitation. "How are you feeling, kit Kat?" she asks, her voice a soft melody. She keeps calling me that, a nickname she's called me since we were kids. Even now I love when she calls me that, I really am so happy for her. I force a smile, my lips trembling slightly.

"Good, I'm feeling good," I lie, though the nausea is swirling in my stomach and my heart is racing. In truth, I am terrified, yet I am dripping wet between my legs, an insatiable horniness overtaking the fear. I have never been into this sort of thing, yet the proximity of death and the restriction of the rope have ignited something primal and hungry inside me. I shuffle my feet and press my knees together, feeling ashamed.

One of the women, a distant acquaintance of Carly's, steps forward and hands Carly a plate with a thick slice of cake. The other guests follow suit, drifting back toward the plush sofas and armchairs. They settle in with a domestic ease, their voices humming with a light, airy quality as they begin to eat. Carly looks up at me, her expression tender. "Are you ready?"

Hell no, I think to myself. "Yup," I say with a nod and a light, airy smile.

Carly reaches up and strokes my hair, her touch lingering on my forehead for a few seconds. It is a gesture of genuine love, a final blessing for the woman who is about to make way for her daughter. She lets out a soft sigh, then steps back and returns to her seat, leaning back into the plush fabric of her chair. She looks so comfortable, so settled, while I stand on a precarious wooden stool with a rope cinched around my neck.

"Thank you again, Katrina," Carly says, her voice clear and resonant throughout the living room. "I love you so much. You're so beautiful and so brave. I promise that I will tell baby Katrina everything about the wonderful woman she was named after. You are such an inspiration to us both."

I look out over the sea of floral prints and smiling faces. The other women lean in, their eyes reflecting a mixture of pity and admiration. Each of them takes a moment to call out a compliment, praising my grace and the nobility of my choice. I feel a surge of warmth, a strange sense of pride that competes with the cold dread pooling in my stomach. I smile back, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"You really do look beautiful up there," some woman I've never met says, smiling up at me, plate of cake in one hand, fork in the other, "you're dance is going to be wonderful."

The comment catches me off guard, sending a fresh wave of heat crashing through my body. I didn't realize they viewed this as a performance, or that they were expecting something from me other than a silent, dignified exit. The thought that they are all watching me, waiting for me to struggle and squirm in the name of a new life, sends a jolt of electricity down my spine and straight to my groin. I feel my breath hitch, my chest heaving as the arousal spikes to an almost unbearable level. What the hell is happening to me? Should I just embrace it? It is the last pleasure I'll ever have after all. I look down and see my nipples are visibly poking through the satin of my dress.

"Katrina, Kit Kat," Carly asks, her voice low and soothing, "do you have any last words?"

I look at her, really look at her, and for a second, the horror of the situation is eclipsed by the sheer beauty of the moment. I can see the pulsing vein in her neck and the way her eyes shimmer with a mix of grief and triumph. I take a breath, fighting the sudden tightness in my throat. "I'm so happy for you and Greg," I say, my voice sounding stronger than I expected. "I know you'll be amazing parents. And to little Katrina... I just hope she's healthy and happy. I know you and Greg will be amazing parents, that you'll raise her to be a wonderful, smart, strong woman. It's such an honor to give her my name, and my life."

Carly's expression softens, and she lets out a small, choked sob, though she keeps her smile. "Thank you, kit kat. You're the best friend I could have ever asked for." She rubs her belly, giving me a little nod of encouragement. "Whenever you're ready, just step off."

I take one final, deep breath, filling my lungs with the scent of lilies and vanilla. I close my eyes, the darkness behind my eyelids feeling like a precursor to the void. I shift my weight, feeling the wooden stool beneath my heels, and then I simply lean forward, stepping out into the empty air.

The drop is short, but the snap is violent. My world transforms into a sudden, jarring explosion of pressure as the noose slams tight against my windpipe. My muscles lock instinctively, a primal, panicked surge of electricity shooting through every nerve ending as I gasp for a breath that won't come. I hang there, frozen in a moment of pure shock, my eyes snapping open to see the room from a jarring new angle with my head forced hard to the right. The women are still there, their faces serene, their forks lifting small pieces of pink cake to their mouths. It is a surreal tableau, the domesticity of a tea party blending seamlessly with the violence of my suspension.

For another moment I hang completely still, unable to move even a little. My face feels stretched as it swells with trapped blood. My legs twitch, just a little bit, once, then twice, sending me swinging gently back and forth.

"Oh come on Kat!" one of the women yells, "give us a real dance!"

The shout cuts through the silence of the room, followed by a few giggles. I stare down at them, my vision beginning to blur around the edges into a pulsing, rhythmic red. The sheer audacity of the request makes a flash of anger ignite in my chest, and for a second, I try to hold myself perfectly rigid. I want to deny them the spectacle, to drift away in a silence so profound it makes them uncomfortable. But the lack of oxygen is doing something strange to my brain, mixing the panic with that inexplicable, surging heat. The pressure in my throat is immense, a crushing weight that feels less like a termination and more like an embrace.

I can't help it. My body takes over, reacting to the terror with a frantic, violent energy. I begin to kick, my heels drumming against the empty air, my torso twisting as I fight the hemp that has claimed my windpipe. Every jolt of the rope sends a fresh wave of friction against my skin, and with every desperate struggle, the arousal intensifies. I am fighting for my life, and yet, the sensation of being utterly trapped, of my wrists bound tight behind me while my body flails in a blind, useless panic, is the most intense thing I have ever felt. My heart hammers a frantic rhythm against my ribs, and the world becomes nothing but the sound of my own muffled gasps and the rustle of my floral dress.

The pain is blinding, a searing heat that radiates from my neck, but it blends seamlessly with the pleasure. I feel the slickness of my own desire pooling between my legs, a warm, traitorous drip that runs down my thighs. Oh god, what the hell is happening to me? I've never been into this sort of thing before, why now? I feel so ashamed, I hope the others can't see how my nipples are practically through through my dress.

The women watch me with an almost clinical fascination, their eyes tracking the rhythmic sway of my body as I fight the rope. They don't look away, and they certainly don't stop eating. The sound of the silver forks clicking against the porcelain plates is a steady, rhythmic beat to my struggle.I knew this would happen but I still can't believe it, they're really going to sit there eating cake as I die.

The panic begins to fade into a heavy, pulsing haze. My lungs are screaming for air, and my vision is tunneling into a single, vibrating point of light. Every time I arch my back or kick my legs, the noose bites deeper into the flesh of my neck, and each surge of pain triggers a corresponding spike of electricity in my loins. It is an all encompasing sensory overload, the crushing pressure of the hemp and the frantic beating of my heart merging into a single, shimmering sensation. Finally, I decide to stop fighting it and just surrender to it.

My movements lose their jagged, desperate quality and begin to flow. I stop trying to claw at the air and instead let my body sway in a slow, hypnotic rhythm, my hips rolling under the floral fabric of my dress. It feels like a dance, a slow waltz between the life I've known and the void I'm bound for. The friction of the rope against my neck becomes a focal point of pleasure, each slight shift of my weight sending a wave of heat crashing through my core. I can feel the eyes of the women on me, their expressions shifting from casual curiosity to a kind of hungry appreciation as my struggle transforms into something deliberate and sensual.

The pressure in my groin reaches a fever pitch, a tight, humming tension that demands release. I realize with a jolt of panic that I am on the verge of an orgasm, my body preparing to peak while I hang suspended for all to see. A wave of sudden, sharp embarrassment washes over me; the thought of these women witnessing my final, involuntary pleasure makes me want to shrink into myself. I tighten my muscles, trying to clamp down on the sensation, fighting the urge to arch my back and cry out. I don't want to be a spectacle of lust in my final seconds; I want to leave with some shred of dignity.

But the struggle only intensifies the friction. The rope burns into my skin, and the lack of oxygen turns my thoughts into a swirling, golden syrup. As the edges of my vision begin to darken, the shame starts to dissolve, replaced by a cold, clear realization. This is it. There are no more mornings to wake up to, no more coffee dates, no more secrets to keep. This pulsing, electric heat is the final physical sensation I will ever experience in this lifetime. Why should I fight it? Why should I deny myself the only joy left in a room full of strangers and a friend who has already moved on to the next chapter of her life?

I stop fighting the tide and lean into the pleasure. I arch my back, pushing my chest forward and thrusting my hips into the empty air. I can hear a few of the women whisper to one another, their voices tinged with a mixture of shock and amusement. I don't care. I focus everything I have left on the point where the hemp meets my throat and the fire blooming between my legs. The tension builds, a coiled spring of agony and ecstasy that vibrates through every fiber of my being. My muscles clench in a final, violent spasm, and then the world explodes into a blinding white light.

It is the most powerful orgasm of my life, a crashing wave that sweeps away the terror, the pain, and the desperation. I feel my entire body shudder, my toes curling and my head snapping back against the rough coils of the noose. For a few timeless seconds, there is no rope, no cake, and no room full of staring women; there is only the electric, humming vibration of a peak that feels as though it might actually shatter my soul. I let out a muffled, broken sound, a ghost of a moan that is swallowed by the pressure in my windpipe.

As the peak recedes, it leaves me hollow and floating. The violent energy that fueled my struggle vanishes, replaced by a crushing, heavy exhaustion. I hang limp, my limbs feeling like leaden weights pulling me down toward the hardwood floor. I am still conscious, though the world has shifted into a dim, grayish haze. The silence of the room returns, broken only by the soft, rhythmic sound of chewing. I can see them from the corner of my eye, the women leaning back on their couches, their expressions neutral as they watch the last flickers of life leave my body.

Even in this state of surrender, a lingering instinct remains. I realize that I am still clenching, my jaw locked and my abdominal muscles tight in a futile, reflexive attempt to resist the noose. It is a stubborn, animalistic remnant of the will to survive, a desperate grip on the fading warmth of my skin. I try to draw a breath, but there is only the abrasive press of hemp and the distant, thumping rhythm of a heart that is slowing down with every second. The effort to keep fighting is exhausting, a burden too heavy for a body that has already accepted its fate.

Slowly, I make a conscious decision to let go. I stop fighting the gravity that pulls at my limbs and simply surrender to the void. As I release the tension, a wave of profound relief washes over me, more intoxicating than the orgasm that preceded it. Every muscle in my body goes completely limp, from the tips of my toes to the curve of my neck. For one shimmering, crystalline moment, it feels incredible. It is as if I am melting into the air around me, the boundaries of my physical self dissolving into the quiet hum of the room. The pressure of the rope transforms from a crushing weight into a supportive embrace, holding me steady as I just sort of...drift.

Then, a sudden, warm sensation blooms between my legs. I feel my bladder release, a slow and steady flow that I have no power to stop. A jolt of primal panic flares up in my chest, and I try to clamp down, to pull back the tide of my own losing battle with biology. I strain against the air, my toes curling in a desperate, futile attempt to regain some shred of control, but it's too late. The warmth spreads, soaking into the fabric of my floral dress before breaking free and falling. I hear it then, a distinct, rhythmic splashing sound hitting the polished hardwood floor beneath my dangling feet.

A sharp, piercing laugh cuts through the heavy silence of the living room. One of the women, a slender woman with a tight bun and a smirk that reaches her eyes, points a manicured finger toward the puddle expanding on the floor. "Oh fuck, she pissed herself!" she exclaims, her voice ringing with a cruel, childish glee. A few of the other women titter, their eyes darting from my swollen, purple face down to the golden stain on the wood. The humiliation is a cold spike in my chest, a final, cutting insult to my dignity as I hang there, exposed and broken.

"Rachel!" Carly shouts. The laughter dies down immediately. My vision is to blurry to make out Carly's expression, but I can tell she was looking at whoever just pointed at the puddle. Then, she turns to me. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about Kit Kat," she says in the same soft, soothing tone she's always used to comfort me, ever since we were kids. "It's just nature taking its course. It means it's almost over." Oh god I hope she's right. "Now just relax and go to sleep."

Oh god, sleep sounds so fucking good right now. I'm so tired, my eyelids feel so heavy, I don't care that I'll never wake up.

I stop fighting the weight of my own eyelids. They drift closed, slow and deliberate, shutting out the blurred images of the floral dresses and the half eaten slices of pink cake. The room begins to recede, the muffled sounds of the women's chatter becoming a distant hum, like a radio playing in another house. The abrasive burn of the hemp against my throat is the last thing I feel, but it no longer feels like a weapon; it feels like a warm embrace, steadying me, calming me as I leave this world.

Watermelon Piñata (F/F, Breast Destruction, Asphyxiation, Cons)

Bikini clad Jenny was carrying the watermelon as her friends teased.

"When did you get a third boob?", shouted Ophelia.

"Which one is the real pinata?", asked Wren.

The whole friend group was known for their massive boobs. But yet amongst them, Jenny's was the largest, almost the size of the watermelon. She bent down put the watermelon on the sand; it's beach day. She then bent up; her boobs jiggle a little. "It's Pinata time!", she shouted.

Cleo and Nova had already blindfolded Lyra. Handing her the baseball bat, they spun her a few times and let her loose. All the girls, wearing bikinis that reveals almost everything about them, surrounded Lyra and started giving her instructions.

"Go straight.", shouted Wren. "No to the right.", countered Jenny. "Go east.", intervened Nova. It didn't take long for Lyra to close in on the melon as if she could see everything even with all these confusing directions. As she approached the watermelon, the instructions altered. "One more inch!", Cleo suggested. "Going away!", shouted Wren. "Swing!", Ophelia screamed. Lyra swung with all her might, and smashed the watermelon on first try. The girls immediately rushed for the soft insides of the watermelon.

As Cleo was eating the watermelon with her hands she looked at Jenny. Her boobs were trying to escape from the shackles that was her bikini top. Her headlights are on.... Cleo couldn't help but reach out and pinch those nipples and twist one of them them. Jenny also embraced the teasing wholeheartedly and pushed her breasts ahead. Cleo grabbed the boobs and gave them a tight squeeze. Then she pulled the bikini bottom aside and exposed Jenny's shaved wet pussy to the elements. Picking a broken rind from the sandy floor, Cleo rubbed it on the pussy and pushed it as far as she can. Jenny moaned passionately in return.

Seeing this, Wren also approached and untied Jenny's top. Her humongous puppies was set free in the bright sun. She gave those puppies a squeeze and passionately sucked on them. "What would I give to burst these melons!!!", she shrieked as she kept passionately fondling and kissing them.

Jenny asked nonchalantly while still moaning, "Mmmmm! What would you do in return? ... Wren?"

Wren stopped for a moment. She really didn't think Jenny would ask something like that. But the chance of destroying her massive mounds was so enticing. The whole girls' group was looking at her with anticipation. They want it too.. She can't back out now. She had to say something convincing. "I'll let your brother snuff me....", she stopped for a while after saying this. "He has been asking for it for quite a while.", she said it with full resolve. "If you let us have a way with you today, I'll let your little brother have a way with me."

Jenny waited a moment and declared, "Deal." Everyone knew Jenny was kind of a pain slut. In fact many of their friends are. But it's striking that she agreed to such an extent. But it was a desired outcome for the day.

The other girls of the group said in union, "YES!!!"

"Pinata taaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiime!", screamed Nova. "I was sad that Lyra got it the first try and I didn't get a chance."

"You will go first this time.", said Wren.

"No! I'll go first.", Novva objected. "I call dibs.."

Cleo was shoving another watermelon rind inside Jenny. She stopped and said, "Calm your titties. You will get a chance. Let's Wren go first. She is putting herself on the line after this.... And don't worry. We have two melons now! But first we need to dig!"

Indeed, the girls needed to dig. They just could drop Jenny on the beach and let blindfolded girls open her skull. That would be so horrifying. Only the breast have to burst. So, Cleo, Lyra, Ophelia, and Wren started digging a pit. They would put her inside the pit, cover her only for the breast to be exposed. Nova and Jenny went to bring supplies: rope to tie Jenny, stuff to make a breathing mechanism for her, and some food, its gonna be a long day. Also, Jenny want to have some fun, and apparently she has an idea to make things exciting.

The girls dug the pit in a innovative way. They created an arch so that the breast is protruded outward while the lower body and head goes downward. By the time they were finished, the the other two returned with the supplies. Lots of them!

They checked the supplies as they finished the burgers... "Ropes, checks, handcuffs, well we do need to restrain you well, check... pipe, mmm.. what it is?", asked Lyra.

"It's so that I can breath. One end will be inside my mouth and the other outside.", replied Jenny.

"Isn't a bit primitive? We could find something much advanced.", Lyra replied.

"It's perfectly fine.", replied Jenny. "It's onetime use anyway."

"Ah! You're right.", Lyra moved on. "What else we have? Some spreader rods... to restrain you even more... What are these?", she pointed towards the liquid IV bags.

"Oh these are watermelon juices!", replied Nova. "Since Jenny's breasts are watermelons, we thought we should put actual watermelon in it. So, we asked Shiela... You now my nurse friend. She managed the watermelon saline bags for us!"

"Oh! That's interesting. I know where this is going.... Anyway, how is Sheila? She could join us.", asked Wren.

"Yeah we asked. But she has a long shift. Apparently, one girl wants to change the taste of her pussy at will; her wife wants to taste different fruits on different days. The doctors came up with this saline system to achieve that for her. Today, they were gonna test the dosage and tune the taste of her vagina for various flavors. It is a whole day process and they have been at it for a few days now. Apparently, they have ordered too many bags this batch; and they also degrade very quickly. We were lucky; we could grab a few bags from that batch. "

Now the girls got into action. They made Jenny sit on her butt and pushed the saline needles in her breasts. As the juice started flowing in her breasts, she took a deep breath. Soon her facial expression started changing. The juice was burning her breasts. She clenched her teeth, endured it to see her breast grow even larger. And as it was growing the firmer the breasts became.

The girls knew they had to tie her breasts before it fully becomes firm, otherwise they won't have a good base. Luckily Ophelia knew how to tie breasts using Shibari technique. It's a loose harness at first, but as the saline accumulates, the harness becomes tight making the breast pop out in a beautiful globular structure.

To ease Jenny's pain, Lyra brought her massage gun and turned it on Jenny's clit. It made Jenny calmer soon. Each of her breasts took one full bag and eighty percent of the other. The volume rose by close to two liters. They were teasing first, but her breasts really look like watermelons now. Very firm, very large, and ready to be bonked!

The girls then mover quickly. They carried her to the pit and laid her down. Wren brought a small towel to gag her, a nose plug to keep her lungs sand free, and swimming googles to protect the eyes. Before she shoved the towel in her mouth, she asked, "Do you have any last words to utter before your soul says bye bye to your puppies,", she poked Jenny's firm swollen breasts, "and to you body?", she poked her arms and the belly.

"Just give my puppies a good beating!", said Jenny.

Wren shoved the gag inside her as soon as she finished. Enough time has been spent. It's time to get the prize! She also fastened the breathing tube and placed it through the gag, so that she can at least breath. Ophelia quickly fastened the vibrator on the pussy, so that she keeps getting stimulated throughout her ordeal. She also fastened her with heavy weights at different places so that she doesn't jump from the pain and ruin the pit. Then they started pouring the sand and wet earth on her.

After everything was done, the girls could see the two globes sitting on the sand; a twelve inches of breathing pipe protruding less than a foot away. They could hear Jenny's muffled moans as the vibrator kept her in heat. She is just a pair of watermelons now!

On the ground, the girls decided to start the game. The blindfolded Wren, spun her, and let her find the breast pinata. They confused her with instruction. Then Wren struck the ground with the bat. Then she let took of her blindfold. She was quite off. The fleshy watermelons were a few feet away! "Damn! I missed it.", she cried.

Then it was Nova's turn. After she was spun, the girls confused her as well. But she was tactful and decided to do the opposite, especially Wren's who seems not to eager to let her win after her failed turn. Eventually, Nova felt something soft in her shoes. "It must be the melons!", she thought. Then with all her might she truck.

The crowd went "So clooose!"

After taking the blindfold she realized she missed it by a few inches. The melons were quivering. The owners of the breast is having her heart raced like no tomorrow. "I almost had it!", Nova groaned!

Then Ophelia, Cleo and Lyra tried with failures. Finally, It's Wren's turn again. She decided to follow Nova's approach but barefoot. She was methodological while feeling the ground. The pit would be a bit soft and wet, could easily be felt by her feet. She found the watermelons, soft and squishy. The other girls also saw, Jenny's juice filled breasts were shaking and her nipples became erect within a couple of seconds. Wren kept the baseball bat hoisted for a while as if she is aura farming. Then, with all her might she struck the ground. It landed right on the nipple, squished the whole breast.

The velocity of the strike reverberated throughout Jenny's body making her scream, which could be heard clearly though the breathing pipe. As Jenny engulfed in thoughts how her breasts have been destroyed, and imagined how it has ruptured, her pain soon turned into a pleasure. The converted to moan. The body jerked as she she reached orgasm.

On the ground, Wren removed her blindfold to find that she had just made the breast redder. It wasn't destroyed, no watermelon guts to be seen... "Damn! Again!"

"Her breasts are strong!", said Cleo, who is usually not talkative. "At this rate we will take a long time!"

Ophelia was also thinking the same, "Let's just get a bat each and keep striking them one by one till they are destroyed."

The girls agreed and each took a baseball bat in their hand. They surrounded Jenny's watermelon. Wren, Lyra, Nova, Ophelia, and Cleo, one by one they kept striking the melons. One sudden strike by Wren, the first melon broke... From the underboob to the nipple, a straight tear appeared and chunks of flesh spurted out. Without waiting, Nova gave another strike to make the insides ooze out.

The girls celebrated, "That's more like it!"

Then they focused on the other breast... meaning... the other watermelon. With one strong strike from Ophelia, it burst too. It burst on the two side almost making an yin-yang spiral around the nipple. The girls struck it a few more times to get as much juice and watermelon juice out of it as possible.

Jenny was shaking vigorously underneath throughout. She was screaming with all her power. It must be burning a lot.

"We need to shut her up!", said Lyra.

"Yeah! She probably had a dozen orgasms by now. It's time to end this.", commented Nova.

"I have an idea.", said Wren. She sat down, tugged the strap of her bikini bottom to expose her pussy, then pushed the breathing tube in it. "Let's see how long can she take it." She then took a bunch of sands in her hands, using them started kneading the exploded breasts to increase her torment.

"Oh my god!", cried Wren. "She is gonna vacuum my cervix." She kept kneading. "I just came..." Wrens eyes rolled inside the skull from ecstasy.

After a while, the shaking stopped. Wren stood up and wore the bikini again.

"Let's go!"

“I wonder how does it feel to be inside the pit and be the pinata.”, wondered one of them as they were packing up.

“Do you want to try?”, teased another.

“May be in future.”, she replied.

The girls ended their beach day. They packed up and left the watermelon pinatas for the birds. One of them asked, “We should spice it up more next time. Any ideas?”

Welcome to Sole Food! (amputation, foot fetish, cannibalism, wlw, incest)

Section 1 - The TV Ad

Haley was a tall girl, about 6ft. She had long, reddish brown hair that cascaded down her shoulders in wavy strands. Her nose was a bit long, but fit her face well, and her eyes were a deep amberish orange color. She was incredibly pale, with a rosy hue on her cheeks, palms, and soles of her feet. 

Speaking of her feet, her long, slender size 11 soles were quite a sight to see. She had played volleyball in school growing up, and her large, impressive feet helped her with her jumps and maneuvers. She stretched her bare feet out on the couch, relaxing her toes as she flipped through channels on TV.

Recently, Haley had gone through a rough breakup. Her ex-boyfriend, Roger, had told her that she could ask him to do anything she wanted, just once, for her birthday. Coincidentally, consensual cannibalism had just become legalized, so she wanted him to eat a part of her- namely, her feet.

Even though her feet were slender and shapely, she hated how large they were, and wanted more than anything to get them cut off and replaced with smaller, prosthetic feet.

Roger was very uncomfortable with Haley’s request, and ended up breaking up with her, on her birthday. Now, weeks later, Haley sat on her couch, flipping through channels on TV, trying to find some way to ignore her large feet.

Suddenly, an advertisement started playing on the TV. A woman in her 40s, with bright red lipstick and brown hair in a bun, started talking. She was dressed in a white chef’s uniform, and seemed to be an accomplished cook.

“Did you hear the news about cannibalism being legalized? Are you afraid of trying to cook human meat by yourself? Do you have an interest in eating human feet? Well, I have news for you!”

Haley shook out of her depression, and sat upright, pressing her feet into the carpeted floor, leaning forward at the TV intently. A chef who wants to cook human feet? Maybe she could help me. She thought to herself.

The middle aged woman on TV continued her ad. “My name is Sheryl Haven, and I am the founder and head chef at Sole Food - the first ever foot cannibal restaurant! If you have even an inkling of curiosity, and would like to try a taste of a toe or a heel, then come on down for the meal of a lifetime!”

Sheryl held up a plate with two middle-aged feet on it, that appeared to be garnished with seasonings and sauces, and surrounded by lettuce. Those look delicious. Haley thought.

“These very feet are my own feet! To prove that I am just as serious about giving feet as I am about cooking them.” Sheryl explained. The camera quickly pointed at her ankle stumps, which had healed and been attached to prosthetic feet.

“Human feet are a beautiful delicacy, and contain a lot of flavor and nutrients.” She cut off her own meaty big toe from the plate, and popped it in her mouth. “Mmm! Delicious! Truly the greatest meal there is. So come on down to Sole Food, where you can fill your soul by eating some soles!” The advertisement ended with a picture of a map and an address, which was only 5 miles from Haley’s house.

Haley was shaking with excitement in her seat. A real foot restaurant?? And it’s in my area!! She thought. I have to go. And so she did.

Section 2 - Welcome!

Haley arrived at Sole Food wearing a long, red dress that showed off her rosy skin very nicely. She had on black high heels with ribbon wrappings trailing up her calves. If I’m going to be getting rid of my feet tonight, I might as well wrap my present with a bow! She had reasoned.

When Haley entered the restaurant, there were already a lot of customers enjoying their meals. I guess the TV ad has been shown several times already… she thought. As she waited for an employee to help her out, she observed some of the customers and their meals.

A young woman, not much older than 18, sat with her 3 friends, each one of them a different race. It seemed like they had all chosen to eat the feet of another friend, and were taking turns commenting on the unique flavors and scents that came from the feet. The small asian feet had a unique tang to them, while the black feet were more strong and bold. The girls took turns trying toes from each foot to ensure they got to taste a bit of everything.

Haley felt herself getting a bit wet looking at those appetizing feet… was she here for the food part, or was there something more to it? She didn’t want to think too hard about it. She looked over to the right, and saw a family gathering together to eat. They all appeared to be adults, though the concept of a family eating feet together was a bit bizarre for her.

The father took a big bite out of what appeared to be the mother’s aged soles on the plate, while the son took a bite out of the sister’s heel. The sister poked at the father’s soles, wondering how she was going to eat so much meat, while the mother seemed to be enjoying eating the brother’s meaty toes like nuggets.

Before Haley could get any wetter, an attendant came up to her and tapped her on the shoulder. Haley turned around, and came face to face with Sheryl herself!

“Sheryl!” Haley blurted out, a bit startled.

“Ah, I see you know my name already?” Sheryl remarked.

Haley’s cheeks got redder, and she stared down at Sheryl’s prosthetic stumped feet. “Oh uh, yeah, I saw your ad on TV.”

Sheryl nodded, “of course! I’m glad you were able to find this place.” Sheryl stared at Haley’s beautiful black high heels. “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you have quite the nice feet! For culinary purposes, I mean, of course. Those toes would make a great batch of breaded nuggets.”

Haley was taken aback at Sheryl’s boldness, but also didn’t really mind the compliment. “O-oh, thank you! I actually am here to offer up my feet, if you don’t mind.”

Sheryl raised an eyebrow. “Only to offer up? Or would you also like to dine?”

Haley rubbed her arm nervously. “I don’t think I could afford to eat at such a nice place.”

“My dear, you haven’t even taken a look at our price plans! Let me help you.” Sheryl pulled out a menu, and showed it to Haley.

The menu was covered in a bunch of interesting images of feet cooked in various ways. Haley noticed right away that the picture for “soles seasoned on salad with sauce” was a picture of Sheryl’s own feet from the TV ad. Some other notable ones included a foot inside a hamburger bun, ten severed toes used on top of ice cream, and a somewhat raw foot decorated with sushi.

Sheryl’s red polished finger covered Haley’s view, pointing towards the top of the menu, at the section titled “Pricing.”

“There are two main options here at Sole Food, my dear. We have the Sole Stranger and the Foot Friend. Our SS customers wear a white anklet on both feet, to tell others that they are refusing to let their feet be eaten. SS customers pay full price for our meals.”

Sheryl continued, “Our FF customers wear pink anklets on both feet, and this tells other customers that their feet are available for consumption. FF customers are asked to stay inside the restaurant for 2 hours, and if they do, their meal is considered free, even if their own feet are never chosen by someone else during that time. If their feet are chosen, then they get complimentary prosthetics.”

“You can also do half-and-half, one pink and one white anklet, though this isn’t really a good idea since you’ll just feel lopsided if you lose one foot, right?”

Haley chuckled a bit. “Yeah, that would be odd. Hmm… well, I suppose I want to do the pink anklets then! The FF option please.”

Sheryl smiled. “Of course, my dear. And remember, you get a free pair of feet to eat with this selection. I know you said you are here to donate feet, but you might as well indulge in some feet at the same time.”

Haley nodded a bit, thinking about how delicious those giggling college girls’ feet looked.

While Haley was daydreaming for a bit, Sheryl grabbed two pink anklets, and clipped them onto Haley’s ankles, on the outside of her black high heels.

“Now that you’ve made your selection, I should tell you how our feet-ordering process works!” Sheryl said, smiling at Haley.

Section 3 - How to Order Feet

“To order a pair of feet, or a single foot, really, you are going to need one of these.” Sheryl handed Haley a simple black, washable marker. “These markers are very easily washed out, but also are very good at writing on human skin. You’re going to want to mark your order number on the sole of the foot that you want to order, and this will help our chefs know what to do with the foot once it is severed.”

Haley nodded, “So what is my order number?”

Sheryl facepalmed herself. “Oh! So sorry dear. I forgot to give you your number.” Sheryl pulled out a card from a stack of order numbers. “Looks like your number is 655.”

“Now, remember, every foot with a pink anklet is fair play. The moment they put on a pink anklet (until the moment they take it off), everything below the anklet is considered property of the restaurant. You are free to lick, kiss, suck on, or otherwise test the feet of our pink patrons. Though, until you write your number on the sole, and tell the owner of the feet, please refrain from biting off any toes.”

Haley nodded again. “That makes sense to me! I don’t think I’m going to be too eager to try any feet just yet… I still don’t know if I’m going to order anything.”

“Well, just keep it in mind.” Sheryl winked. “Oh- and by the way, If you survive the 2 hour time without anyone ordering your own feet, I’d be happy to order them myself.”

Haley blushed. “Oh- that’s very kind of you.”

“Of course, dear. Let’s get you seated at a table.”

Section 4 - Toe gets Tasted

Haley was seated at a nice booth table thanks to Sheryl, and she began to relax herself as she waited for someone to pick her feet. 

I guess I should make my feet more presentable… Haley thought. She removed her high heels, and put the pink anklets back on her bare feet. She propped up her long, slender soles on the table, and did her best to wiggle her toes and see if anyone was interested.

A bratty blonde girl with a spray tan, wearing white anklets, dragged her mom along behind her. “Mom, I want those feet! And those feet! And those feet!”

“Honey, we chose the white anklets, we’re gonna have to pay full price for all these feet… you should try and get a pair that is pretty large. How about this lady’s feet?” the mom pointed at Haley.

The blonde girl glanced at Haley’s feet. She bent down, and began to lick Haley’s soles. The sensation was instantly arousing. Haley did her best to hide a moan, biting her lip as the blonde tasted all over the feet.

After having a much longer taste than she probably should’ve, the blonde stood up. “Hmm… nah, I don’t want to order these. But I wouldn’t mind stealing a toe.”

The mom rolled her eyes. “You can’t just steal a toe off of living feet, you need to ask for this young lady’s permission first.”

“She can eat a toe-” Haley blurted out, immediately questioning what she had just said. Oh no… is that gonna hurt? Haley thought, but her curiosity outweighed her potential future pain.

The blonde licked her lips, and bent down again, putting her mouth around Haley’s second toe on her right foot. Haley braced herself, and felt a sharp pain as the blonde bit off the toe. The pain radiated from her foot, but slowly converted to arousal. Why do I like this?? Haley thought to herself, as the blonde licked the wound clean, and chewed on the severed toe, dangling it from her mouth tauntingly.

The mom grabbed the blonde’s arm. “Sorry, we’ve wasted enough of your time already…”

“No, no, it’s okay!” Haley responded, as the mom dragged the blonde to another table.

Sheryl came up to Haley. “Surprised at how little it hurts?”

“Y-yeah, actually.” Haley acknowledged. “It felt… pleasant after a bit.”

“I should’ve mentioned these anklets let out a small neurological frequency, it is designed to convert pain into pleasure as much as possible. It’s not perfect, but it certainly helps.” Sheryl winked.

“Yeah… it uh, definitely helped.” Haley remarked.

“Well, try not to give out too many free samples, dear. Not everyone will be willing to order a foot that doesn’t have any toes.” Sheryl warned.

“Of course, of course, I know… I just… wanted to know how it felt.” Haley admitted.

“And?”

“It was pretty great.”

Section 5 - Tasting Someone Else’s Toe

After a few more people licked her feet, but didn’t commit, Haley decided she should try and get herself some food to pass the time. If no one takes my feet, at least Sheryl will once the time is up. Haley thought.

Haley put on her black heels, which felt a bit different with the missing toe, and started looking around the restaurant for some potential tasty toes to try.

She spotted a goth girl, with black lipstick, a black dress, and big black boots. Pink anklets were rather awkwardly clipped around the outside of each boot. She looks like she may have nice feet.

Haley approached the girl, and nervously asked. “I- uh, noticed your feet are up for eating.”

The goth girl looked at Haley with a dominant stare. “Yes… and?”

Haley gulped. This girl is intimidating as hell. Why am I into that?

“If you want a taste, you better ask.”

Haley nodded, “Yes, uh, I’d like a taste.”

The goth smirked, and unbuckled her massive boots. She slid her bare feet out of the big, black shoes, which fell on the floor with two thuds. The goth girl’s feet were incredibly pale, nearly looking black-and-white, with black toenail polish to match. They seemed to glisten with sweat after being stuck inside those massive boots. They looked to be a size 6, with meaty soles and short-ish toes.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” the goth asked. “I don’t have all day.”

Haley bent down and licked a toe quickly. Her eyes lit up, as her tongue bursted with flavor. “Oh my God- this is- aughhh….” Haley moaned aloud, and quickly shut her mouth.

The intimidating goth smirked a bit. “One taste isn’t enough to make a decision, love. Lick them again.”

Haley stammered. “I- uh- I-”

The goth shoved her feet into Haley’s face. “Lick. Them. Again.”

Haley nodded timidly, and began to lick the goth girl’s soles over and over, trying to slurp up every bit of flavor trapped between each meaty wrinkle. As she increased in intensity, she began sucking on each toe, shoving her mouth down and up each toe like a cock.

“Harder. More. Keep going.” the goth commanded.

Eventually, Haley was very wet, both her panties, and her face covered in foot sweat. In her arousal, she suddenly bit down on the goth’s left pinky toe.

“Aagh!” the goth girl let out a bit of a grunt.

Haley pulled back before she could do too much damage. “Oh, I’m sorry, I-”

The goth girl regained her composure, and stared at Haley intensely. “Did I tell you to stop?”

Haley’s legs got weaker than they already were. “N-no, ma’am.”

“Bite it off. It’s already damaged, you might as well finish the job.”

Haley nodded, and bit off the goth girl’s pinky toe. As she chewed on the toe, the sweaty flavor burst through with greater intensity, the cheesy, salty, footy delight made Haley moan even more. She swallowed the rest, and looked at the goth girl.

“I think I want to order your feet.”

The goth girl smirked. “Good idea. And I’m going to order yours.”

Section 6 - Ordering Feet

Haley marked the goth girl’s feet with her number, and the goth girl did the same with hers.

“I suppose if we are eating each others’ feet, we should get to know each other a bit. I’m Christine.”

“Nice to meet you, Christine… I’m Haley.”

Christine smirked in her dominating way. “What a cute name.”

Haley melted even more at this remark, and then tried to straighten up. “So… why didn’t you taste my feet before you marked them?”

“I come here all the time, no one has been able to overcome their fear of me enough to order my feet. They’re all too scared. But you, you somehow managed to go for it. You bit off my toe. I like that ferocity. You may be submissive-”

“Hey!”

“But you are determined, and you know what you want. I like that. I think your large feet will taste amazing. I’ve always had a thing for longer soles. Reminds me of cute rabbit feet. I bet you were quite the jumper in women’s sports.” Christine suggested.

“I- yes, I was… though I won’t be doing much jumping anymore once these feet are gone.” Haley said. Receiving all these compliments about her feet was making her question if she wanted to really get them removed…

“It will all be worth it once your cooked toes are in my mouth.” Christine declared, making Haley blush some more.

Section 7 - Removing Feet

Haley and Christine, each missing a toe, walked their marked feet up to the removal station. The “Foot Removal-O-Matic,” as it was called, was a row of guillotines built into a wall of the restaurant. You could barely even see the blades and machinery inside, all you could really see were rows of holes, where the foot donors could insert their ankles and await amputation.

Each pair of holes had a keypad beside it that seemed to be used to write down what menu item the feet should be prepared for. Haley chose foot burgers for Christine’s feet, and Christine chose the seasoned soles with sauce and salad for Haley’s feet.

The girls slid their ankles into the holes, and pressed the confirm buttons at the same time. Once they did, an overhead screen started playing a recorded video.

Sheryl’s red lipstick smile popped into view. “Thank you for choosing to cut off your feet with us at Sole Food! Allow me to demonstrate the removal process as you experience it with me!”

Sheryl took off her shoes, and inserted her wrinkled soles into the ankle slots. “Once you have confirmed your order, the machine will administer a numbing chemical into your bloodstream. This should remove all feeling in your feet before the amputation.”

Haley and Christine both felt tiny needles inject into their ankles. Their skin began to feel weird as the sensation slowly started to fade.

“Please wiggle your toes and count to ten, until you are completely unable to wiggle them anymore. If you are still able to wiggle your toes, hit the help button, and a second dose of the chemical will be administered.”

As the girls wiggled their toes, another screen, underneath the Sheryl one, showed a live camera feed of each girl’s feet, as the toes wiggled, wiggled, and then slowly stopped.

“Your feet look so sexy when they wiggle.” Christine commented, making Haley blush some more.

“Now that your feet are entirely numb, you should prepare for the amputation. Please say your goodbyes to your feet, and press 6 if you would like to order a photo album of your feet’s future cooking process.”

“I don’t think I can afford that, and I don’t know if I’d want that.” Haley said.

“I would.” Christine pressed Haley’s number 6 button. “I’ll pay for it.”

Haley blushed again. This girl is so confident… she thought.

“Your feet will now be removed after a count of 5.” Sheryl’s voice buzzed on the monitor.

“5…”

“4…”

“3…” Haley wasn’t so sure anymore about this. She started to struggle a bit, but her feet were completely numb.

“2…” Haley was sweating a bit. “Wait! I want to change my mind!” but the recording didn’t respond.

“1!” The guillotines severed the feet with a loud CHOP! Haley watched on the live feed as her and Christine’s feet tumbled onto trays beneath the ankle holes, twitching wildly after the amputation. Haley felt horrified but aroused, watching her own feet twitch around like a foreign creature… It was so bittersweet.

“Thank you for your donation to Sole Food! Please wait for your ankle stumps to be properly cauterized, and for an attendant to provide you with your prosthetics. We hope your recipient will enjoy consuming your feet, and we hope you will dine with us again!” Sheryl’s recording finished, as Sheryl held up her own recently severed feet, giving each sole a kiss.

Haley was trying to catch her breath, as her mind was swirling with all sorts of thoughts. She felt aroused, but upset, but excited… it was a mess.

Sheryl (the real one, not the old recording) approached the girls, carrying two pairs of prosthetic feet. “I’m so glad you girls were able to get rid of your feet! I bet you’ll love the meals you’ve chosen for them. Here are your prosthetic feet. Once you’ve gotten adjusted to them, follow me to watch the cooking process!”

- - - - - - - - - -

Thank you for reading!! If you like this story, I may make a part two, but idk lol, it’s up to you! Also feel free to comment below what you’d like to order from this restaurant.

The Circle

Introduction by the Author

This is a work of dark eroticism, born from the deepest recesses of longing.
I have always been drawn to the noose - not as an instrument of violence, but as the purest symbol of surrender. The slow constriction, the final yielding of the body, the moment when devotion becomes irreversible: these have haunted my imagination for years.

In The Circle I have sought to explore that fascination without flinching. Here, absolute submission is not a game. It is a complete offering. Seven Mistresses, each powerful and exacting, preside over slaves who exist solely for their pleasure. The highest gift these slaves can give is their own death - freely chosen, lovingly given, and received with the full force of desire.

Every hanging in these pages is willed. Every slave who steps onto the stool does so because the need to surrender has become greater than the need to live. I offer these seven interconnected tales to those who understand that the most profound eroticism lies at the edge of extinction, where love, guilt, rivalry, and devotion converge upon the same inevitable rope.

Read with care. The Circle admits no half-measures.

I shall release each chapter in the weeks to come. Your thoughts are welcome. Today I present to you The Prologue and Chapter 1

The Circle

Prologue

High in the mist-veiled Chiltern Hills, scarcely an hour from London, stood an estate known only to a few as The Circle.

Once the country seat of a forgotten Victorian industrialist, the great stone mansion had been acquired and transformed by a small circle of women of extraordinary wealth and will. From without, it presented the serene face of any secluded luxury: high walls, ordered gardens, a long avenue of ancient oaks. Within, however, another order reigned - a world given over to the most extreme extremities of pleasure and surrender, where the flesh was taught to yield utterly, and life itself might be laid upon the altar of desire.

Seven Mistresses dwelt there in permanence. Each was beautiful, each ruthless in her particular fashion. Some had inherited their power, others had forged it; a few had awakened late to the full measure of their nature. All were united by a single, consuming hunger: the absolute possession of those who would give everything - body, will, and finally breath - for their pleasure.

Each maintained her private domain within the house: chambers of silk and shadow, bedrooms heavy with the perfume of arousal, dungeons in which every cry became a form of intimacy. They shared, too, the greater spaces - the long dining hall where naked slaves moved in trembling silence, the cellars converted into theatres of punishment and rapture, the quiet quarters of the owned, and the central hanging chamber. That high stone room, with its massive oak beams, held white nooses that hung like pale, patient invitations to the most complete abandonment.

The estate was served by a discreet staff, chosen for loyalty and paid for silence. They saw nothing they were not meant to see. Most who lived within The Circle were permanent slaves, men and women who had relinquished all they possessed to enter this realm of total surrender. A few were temporary guests, paying great sums for brief, intense immersions. They came by many hidden paths: whispered recommendations, veiled accounts in the darker corners of the web, the quiet recognition of a Mistress who perceived in them a capacity for surrender that ordinary life could never satisfy.

All underwent prolonged scrutiny - interviews, rigorous trials of body and spirit - and above all were required to prove a genuine willingness to offer the final gift: their lives, should their Mistress demand it. Only those who met this standard were accepted. They were brought blindfolded; none ever learned the true location of the house. Within its walls they existed as though outside time and geography.

The rules were simple and absolute. A slave belonged wholly to the Mistress who claimed him or her. They might be shared or loaned, yet their ultimate allegiance and their flesh remained hers. Love between slaves was forbidden. Any tenderness that threatened a Mistress’s supremacy was answered with deliberate and lingering cruelty.

And every Mistress knew the secret that bound them: the deepest pleasure did not lie in breaking a slave, but in watching the slave break himself - willingly, lovingly, completely - at the end of her rope. In that final moment, when eyes met and the body performed its last ecstatic dance, a power flooded the Mistress so intense that her sex would open and flood, her climax rising like a dark, consuming fire.

No one had ever been forced to the rope. Every man and woman who had hung within The Circle had come to it by desire, often after months or years of deepening hunger. To die in the tightening embrace of the noose was not punishment. It was the highest honour - the purest act of devotion, the final surrender of the self.

This, then, was The Circle - named for the perfect ring a noose forms when tied, the eternal emblem of the surrender each slave longed to offer and each Mistress longed to receive. A private dominion of pain, pleasure, and perfect sacrifice.

And it was here that seven Mistresses would each inscribe her own legend - seven intimate chronicles of burning lust, absolute submission, and the ultimate gift, wherein devoted slaves would lay not only their bodies and their pleasure, but their very lives, upon the altar of their Mistress’s desire.

The Circle

Chapter 1

The Birthday Gift

In the shadowed recesses of Mistress Seraphine’s private apartment, the slaves Stephen and Martha existed only for her pleasure. They lived in a state of deliberate helplessness, often left for hours in strict bondage while she moved through her day, secure in the knowledge that they remained precisely where she had placed them. They worshipped her with their tongues, their suffering, and their unbroken obedience. At times they performed the most intimate services - receiving the warm gifts of her body with reverent gratitude. None of this was humiliation. It was their purpose. They belonged to her entirely.

Seraphine sat enthroned upon her queening chair, thighs parted. Her long black hair spilled over her shoulders. The glossy black latex that sheathed her voluptuous form clung to every curve; the open crotch left her sex fully exposed, glistening and swollen from Martha’s devoted attention. The younger slave knelt between her legs, face buried, tongue moving with slow, worshipful precision.

Stephen knelt nearby, naked save for the heavy steel chastity cage that had confined him for weeks. He watched his Mistress with quiet devotion as she stroked Martha’s hair.

“Good girl,” Seraphine murmured, her voice low and thickened by pleasure. “Just like that.”

She turned her dark, almond-shaped eyes upon Stephen and smiled with cruel affection.

“Come here, slave. Remove the cage. Today I want full access to what is mine.”

Stephen took the key from her hand. His fingers trembled as he unlocked the device. The moment the cage fell away, his cock swelled, already half-hard with anticipation. Seraphine reached down, closed her fist around his balls, and squeezed firmly.

“These are mine today,” she said softly. “And I intend to make them suffer beautifully before I hang you.”

She worked him without haste - twisting, striking, pulling - while Martha continued her slow service. Stephen gasped as the sharp pain braided itself with deep submissive arousal. His Mistress prepared him carefully, methodically, for what was to come.

When at last she released him, his body was marked and aching. He knelt once more, voice steady.

“Mistress Seraphine… as it is your birthday, I have prepared a special gift. I ask only that you trust me completely and do as I request. If I displease you, I know the punishment will be severe. Yet I promise this will please you more than anything I have ever given.”

Seraphine raised an elegant brow, intrigued.

“Very well, Stephen. I trust you. What do you wish me to do?” He drew a slow breath.

“I want to secure you to this chair so that you cannot move. And I want Martha’s head locked firmly between your thighs so that she cannot withdraw.”

Seraphine regarded him for a long moment.

“You wish to bind me on my own birthday?” A faint smile touched her lips. “How bold.” After a pause she nodded. “Very well. Do it.”

Stephen worked with swift reverence, buckling thick leather straps about her waist, thighs, and chest until she was wholly immobilised. He then locked Martha’s head in place between Seraphine’s thighs so the younger slave could not retreat even an inch. When he finished, Seraphine tested the bonds and gave a small, satisfied smile.

“Impressive. Now… what is this mysterious gift, my loyal boy?”

Stephen stood before her, naked and calm. He met her eyes.

“My life, Mistress. Today I give you my life. I am going to hang myself for you - properly, without any protective collar - until I am dead.”

For a moment Seraphine only stared. The smile vanished. Her eyes widened as the full meaning struck her.

“Stephen…” Her voice sharpened. “No. Untie me. Now.”

He did not move.

“I cannot, Mistress. You have hung slaves before. I know the pleasure it gives you. But we have grown too close. You would never hang me yourself. Today I remove that choice from your hands.”

Seraphine pulled hard against the straps, real panic rising.

“Stephen, I order you - stop this at once!”

He shook his head gently.

“I am sorry. You care for me too much. That is why it must be this way.”
He walked to the electric hoist and lowered the heavy noose until it hung above the low stool. Seraphine’s breathing grew rapid and shallow.

“Stephen… please. Do not do this.”

He stepped onto the stool and slipped the noose over his head. With steady hands he adjusted the knot beneath his left ear and drew the rope snug against his throat. Then he threw the remote far across the room and locked a pair of handcuffs behind his back.

He looked at her one last time, voice quiet and full of love.

“I adore you, Mistress Seraphine. You have given me the best years of my life. Suffering for your pleasure has been my greatest joy. Today I offer the final gift - my death, freely given, while you come upon Martha’s tongue. I love you. Thank you for everything.”

Seraphine stared in horror, tears already forming.

“Stephen… no…”

He smiled — peaceful, certain.

“Goodbye, Mistress.”

He kicked the stool away. The rope snapped tight. Stephen’s body dropped hard. His legs kicked violently as the noose crushed his unprotected throat. His face flushed at once. His cock, already tormented and sensitive, swelled darkly and began to leak.

Seraphine remained frozen for several heartbeats, straining against the straps, her breath coming in sharp, panicked gasps. The reality of what she witnessed warred with the dark hunger that had lived inside her for years. Her voice cracked when she finally spoke.

“Martha… stop. Please…”

But Martha did not stop. And the longer Seraphine watched the struggling body before her, the more the horror was overtaken by something deeper and far more shameful. A low, broken sound escaped her throat.

“…Harder,” she whispered at last. “Lick me harder.”

Martha obeyed at once, tongue pressing and swirling with renewed urgency. Stephen’s struggles were desperate at first - legs kicking wildly, cuffed hands clenched. Then the movements began to change. They grew slower, more rhythmic, almost sensual. His cock throbbed with every convulsion.
Seraphine’s hips rolled harder against Martha’s face. The horror remained, yet it was being consumed by a savage, overwhelming arousal she had fantasised about for most of her adult life.

“Look at you,” she breathed, voice thick and trembling. “My perfect, foolish boy… You are truly doing it. You are hanging for me.”

Stephen’s face darkened from red to a deep, bruised purple. His eyes remained locked on hers, full of quiet acceptance even as they began to glaze.

Seraphine’s first orgasm struck her suddenly and violently. She cried out, grinding down hard upon Martha’s face as she came, her juices flooding the younger slave’s mouth while Stephen convulsed before her. She did not stop.

“Again,” she gasped. “Make me come again while he dies.”

Martha licked frantically. Stephen’s struggles weakened. His legs twitched in long, graceful spasms. His cock had turned almost black. A thick strand of fluid hung from the tip.

Seraphine came again, harder than before, sobbing with a mixture of grief and ecstasy as she watched the man she had owned for so many years give her the ultimate gift. Stephen’s body jerked one final time. His cock erupted in long, powerful spurts that arced across the stone floor. Then he went still, turning slowly at the end of the rope.

Seraphine remained strapped in the chair, trembling and breathless, as Martha continued to lick her gently through the aftershocks. Tears streamed down her face as she stared at Stephen’s lifeless body. For a long time the only sounds in the dungeon were the soft creaking of the rope and Martha’s quiet, devoted tongue.

At last Seraphine spoke, her voice hoarse and broken.

“Did you know, Martha?”

Martha lifted her glistening face just enough to answer.

“Yes, Mistress. I knew. Stephen asked me to keep his secret. He wanted your birthday to be perfect.”

Seraphine closed her eyes for a moment. Another quiet sob escaped her.

“He trained you in the noose while I was not present, did he not?”
Martha nodded.

“Yes, Mistress. Many times. I enjoyed it. I came each time he lifted me.”

Seraphine looked up at Stephen’s body as it turned slowly above her. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet, almost reverent.

“It has been a long time since I watched a slave die for me. And I have never come so hard in my life.”

She paused, her dark eyes fixed upon the rope.

“I am minded to do it again - and soon. Would you like that?”

Martha trembled between her thighs, her voice soft but steady.

“Thank you, Mistress,” she whispered. “I was hoping you would say that.”

To be continued…

I’ve been working as a state executioner for quite some time. Ever since the laws concerning women have been widened and the consequences been more extreme. When I started working for the state, they explicitly wanted female executioners. 

I have quite some freedom and power when it comes to the execution methods. The jury does sentence the women to death, but most of the time I can choose the method. And I am very creative. It’s important that these women suffer as much as possible for their crimes.

Anybody can attend an execution as a witness. They are even streamed on the internet these days. Personally, I always make sure that the women are naked when they are brought to their personal death chamber. Beforehand, they don’t know when it will happen and they don’t know how it will happen. 

Today, I have planned two executions - Evelyn and Jenny. 

By the time I step into the room, the audience is already in attendance and my assistants have strapped Evelyn into the contraption she will die in. It mostly resembles a gynecological chair with her arms restrained and her legs pushed as widely apart as possible. I can see a slight glistening of wetness between her folds. 

“Evelyn B., you’ve been sentenced to death for adultery and aborting the conceived child from this affair. Therefore, you will be mechanically penetrated with this dildo until you die. The dildo is 10 inches in girth and 2 feet in length and has been fitted with barbed wire and glass shards. May the gods have mercy on your soul.”

While I was reading her sentence, my assistants have brought the huge fucking machine with the dildo attached to it. Just seeing it makes me horny and wet. 

Evelyn is screaming as I line up the dildo with her opening. I want to make sure that it penetrates her on the first push.

Nobody else is uttering a single sound when I flip the switch on the machine. The dildo immediately starts moving and despite Evelyn’s excruciating screams I can hear the crunching sound of her hip opening being shattered and quelching as the dildo rips apart her vagina, cervix and womb. A fountain of blood and tissue is pushed out of her ruined hole as the machine goes for the next push. I dial up the speed and soon Evelyn doesn’t even scream anymore. Her whole lower torso is a bloody mess. I can still see it in her eyes though that she’s holding onto the last shreds of life. 

In the end it takes over 10 minutes of being fucked by the dildo, of her insides being ripped apart until I can pronounce her death. The whole thing is a gory mess that my assistants will clean up after the audience is gone. Meanwhile, my panties and trousers are soaked through. As I make my way to the next execution, I can only think that I simply love my job.

Let me know if you'd like to read more.

You like to keep in shape, but are a little self conscious about your body.  That's why you joined a 24 hour gym.  It's on a first floor with an office block opposite, but you tend to go later in the day so there are few people in the gym and office opposite.

You use your keycard to let yourself into the gym and head upstairs.  The gym is empty so you put your headphones on and get on the running machine to start your workout.

You finish your 2km run and step off of the machine having broken a light sweat.  While you were running a guy had entered the gym.  It looks like he'd just finished stretching and he nods to you as he walks past you to the cross trainer.  You consciously check you gym kit in case it's ridden up between your legs.  You lie down on one of the mats and start doing sit ups.

As you lift your body up you notice that the guy has stopped for water and is watching you.  You feel like he's staring at your pussy through your tight shorts.  He picks up a medicine ball and walks towards you.  "Love, it might help if you hold one of these" he says as he offers you the ball.  You shake your head as you continue with your workout trying to ignore him.  He moves a bit closer to you.  "I really think it'll help" he says.  You try to ignore him as the typical gym guy who thinks he knows better than everyone else.

He quickly lunges into you pushing the ball into your chest taking you by surprise.  You drop to the floor "What are you doing?" You shout at him.  He doesn't answer, he pushes the ball onto your chest as he straddles your body pinning you down. 

"Get off me!" You shout as you try to push him off.  He slides his hands under the ball and puts them on your tight lycra top.  The ball falls to the side as you try to twist away from him, but your trapped underneath him as he groped your tits.

He leans to the side and pulls a barbell over.  Effortlessly he lifts it up and puts it over your neck.  You grab the weight to push it off, but it's too heavy.  He gets up off of you leaving you pinned to the floor by your neck.  "Get this off of me." You shout at him "This isn't funny." 

He stands over you clearly enjoying the sight of you struggling.  He pulls off his shorts revealing his hard cock.  You panic, desperately pushing at the barbell and thrashing you legs as he moves towards your waist.  He grips your tight gym shorts and pulls them off of you.  You kick at him as he moves between your legs.  He positions himself pushing your legs apart with his cock rubbing against your pussy as you squirm.

Your desperation turns back to the barbell.  You keep pushing against it.  He spits on your pussy and rubs his spit against your lips with the tip of his cock.  You beg him to stop as he slides inside your pussy.  As he starts thrusting into you he grabs your top and tears it open exposing your tits.  Each thrust makes them bounce as you try to get free.

You beg him to stop as you hit his arms until you strike him in the face.  He pauses for a moment looking at you menacingly.  You freeze in panic.  Your first thought is to apologise, but you don't.  He grabs both of your wrists pinning them to the floor.  Using all of his weight he pounds his hard cock into your wet pussy.  You plead with him and tell him how much it hurts.

He slows down his thrusts and takes his cock out.  You feel the relief in your abused pussy.  You sigh and start to relax your body.  He lifts your ass up, arching your back and he rests your cheeks on his knees.  Then he pushes the tip of his cock against your asshole testing the tightness of your hole.  He grins at you "We're going to enjoy this."  You look him in the eyes shaking your head.  "No" you beg "please, no, no, no" as he pushes his cock into your ass stretching it painfully.  You scream at him to stop as he relentlessly ploughs into your ass.

He takes a skipping rope, doubling over the chord and he forces it into your screaming mouth, gagging you.  You cry as he tries the rope around your head, holding the gag in place.  He smacks your ass, stinging your cheek as he grunts, cumming in your stretched painful ass.  He slides his cock out leaving some cum to trickle out between your cheeks.

He walks over to the reception desk and comes back with a marker pen.  He begins writing on your chest, vocalising as he writes "Don't ungag, just use me.  No matter how much I struggle."  You try to scream but the gag silence you.  He pulls his shorts on and walks towards the door "you're going to have quite the workout" he says as he turns out the light leaving you pinned to the floor sobbing.

​

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This is a work of fiction. All characters are over 18 years of age.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mom? Dad? I'm hoooome!!!" Lucy called out upon arriving home for her first week off from freshman year at college.

She didn't hear a response but she heard... something.

"Mom? Dad?" she called out as she set down her bag and slowly walked through the living room, listening with her head tilted to one side.

As she went further into the home, she recognized the sound; she had just been making it on her train ride home, after all.

Lucy walked into the hall and the sounds got clearer with every step. As she walked to her parents' bedroom door, which was wide open, she thought she knew what to expect, but what she saw made her jaw drop.

She was right about one thing, the sound was her mom throating her dad's cock, but what Lucy hadn't expected was seeing what had been done to her mother.

At first glance it looked like her mom was wearing the bondage gear that folded her arms and legs into themselves, leaving her to move about on her elbows and knees; the black latex "gloves" and "stockings" that came up to her biceps and upper thighs, but on second glance, Lucy realized that her very pregnant mother was propped up on just the stumps of her arms and legs.

Her heavy belly and engorged breasts were hanging down onto the bed, even length with her truncated appendages, as she was having her face fucked roughly by her husband, Lucy's dad.

"Oh my god Daddy... you converted Mom!?" She sputtered, putting a hand to her mouth, her fingers sticking to the mess still clinging to her face.

"Oh, fuck!!" Her dad looked up and as he took in the sight of his disheveled daughter, the cum and blood and puke covering every inch of exposed skin and hair, he grabbed his toy's head tighter and forced it's lips to his groin and held it there as he started cumming hard "fuck, baby, you look amazing!!"

Lucy felt her pussy throb as her father unloaded his balls deep down the throat of her, well... former mom. She shuddered as she felt a thick glob of cum ooze out of her sore cunt and run down her thighs, joining the drying streaks of cum already there.

Her dad grunted and moaned through his orgasm, while the fuck toy gagged on his cock and wobbled, but managed to swallow everything it was given.

"Holy shit, Lucy, I didn't expect you to come home looking like that!" He panted as he shuddered and sent his last few spurts down his former wife's throat. "Did you have a fun trip on the train?"

He used the toy's face to jerk himself a couple more times before he pulled it off of his cock with a wet pop, followed by an involuntary gush of cum from the sudden reversal of suction in its throat. Lucy's legs trembled as she watched her mom puke cum on her daddy's cock, which was still throbbing and oozing little rivulets of the seed that had made her and her siblings.

"Uhhhh..." Lucy struggled to form words. After the brutal gangbang and snuffing of Penny, she had been looking forward to a big warm hug from her mom, but that would never happen. The arms that had always made her feel safe and loved would never wrap around her again.

"Jesus, Lucy, wake up." her dad said "come clean me up. You made me cum way too soon, walking in here looking like that." He slapped his former wife's face, while the toy was gasping and trying to recover it's breath.

In a daze, Lucy obeyed, walking to her parents' bed and climbing onto it on her hands and knees. She leaned down and started licking, sucking, slurping up the cummy, drooly, pukey mess from her daddy's crotch, sparing a glance for her mom's open-mouthed, panting, blindfolded face.

"Mmmm, good girl." She felt her dad's hand on her head as she swallowed the mess bit by bit. Her pussy was on daddy's side, throbbing in time with his still hard cock while she diligently ingested his cum. Her jaw was already sore from being facefucked on the train, but Lucy was always obedient and had learned by her mother's example to put her own discomfort last.

As she was starting to feel the haze of braindead lust overtake her, lucy heard her father speak. "Say hello to Lucy, fucktoy"

"H-hello... Lucy...." the converted fucktoy muttered, voice rough after a very rough throat-fuck, face flushed, dripping with drool, but with a small quivering smile on it's face, happy that It's youngest daughter was home.

Lucy lifted her face from the pool of fluids to say "h-hi mommy...." and she immediately felt her father's fist slam into her right cheek, snapping her head to the side, making her unintentionally headbutt her mom.

"That's not your mom anymore, slut. That's a fucktoy and, for a little while, an incubator. Don't ever talk to it like it's a person ever again. Now swallow my dick. I wasn't done using this thing, and you made me cum way too early."

Lucy suppressed a sigh, wished she even felt the hint of a tear in her eye, but just opened her mouth to say "yes daddy" before she opened wider and slid her lips and tongue over her father's cock.

"Don't worry baby, I just need you to get me ready to send a load into this toy's loose cunt. There you go. That's Daddy's good girl"

Lucy felt her daddy's hands on the back of her head and the head of his cock in the back of her throat. Her eye was swelling shut from the punch already, and she was acutely aware of every glob of cum oozing out of her still gaping pussy and ass, as well as the fresh wetness of her own arousal, when she felt the gentle touch of a latex covered stump gently touching her shoulder. Even now, her mom... no, the fucktoy, was there soothing her. Providing a soft touch. Lucy moaned around her father's cock and shuddered as she felt a little orgasm ripple through her.

"Ohhhh, gooood girl!!" Her daddy said, pressing her face down hard, smashing her nose into his groin. "Ok, I think that'll do. Thank you, sweetie." He pulled her by her hair and his cock left her throat with a pop.

"Go say hello to your sister while I finish up." He smacked Lucy on her ass as she caught her breath and wiped a long string of spit from her mouth. "We'll have dinner in a couple of hours, and I'm sure you'll love it."

Lucy sat up and lunged to hug her mom, not caring if she got hit again, but her sadistic father didn't bother to interrupt. He was hard and happy and just smiled as he watched his daughter and former wife have a precious moment together.

"I love you mommy" Lucy whispered into the ear of her daddy's newly converted fucktoy.

"I love you, Lucy" rasped from the throat of what used to be Lucy's mom.

After a soft kiss and another hug, Lucy got up and stumbled away. She heard bodies moving on the bed as she walked out, and a deep moan that she recognized was her dad shoving his hard predatory cock into the eager cunt of her masochistic mother....

She staggered down the hall towards her big sister's room, hoping she could just cuddle with her and take a nap. It had been a long day already.

Gregory was a security guard. He was one of many that guarded the large home of the rich businesswoman Melissa. Not that it looked like a normal house to Gregory. With it's tall perimeter walls, barbed wire fencing and multiple checkpoints. It looked less like a rich persons home and more a solitary fortress in the countryside. But such details are beyond his paygrade, all that mattered was his sizable paycheck for such a simple, menial job. Not even the containers containing the corpses of young women that came in every now and then swayed his judgement. It was well known among the staff that their mistress Melissa had certain proclivities, certain desires that were best kept secret from the world. Those corpses were related to it, and everyone knew to keep quiet about it or they will be turned into one, their death branded as an accident to the outside world. Gregory knew the stories, he even personally knew a guy that got disappeared after being tested and spilling the beans.

So when yet another container with a black haired young woman that had a thick black line around her neck rolled off the back of a truck, he didn't bat an eye, he just went through the usual checks and signed the appropriate papers before receiving the container and the trolley it came on.

" You ever wonder how they always catch these sorts of young women? Are there so much young women out there with cunt for brains that fall for anything if it meant getting some action? Look at her face in there, she looks like she just came even though she's dead." Gregory's partner, Gregor , asked. He was the kind of guy to say all sorts of things to keep himself entertained over the long shifts, though he knew when to keep silent still.

" The contractor probably poses them like this after killing them to make them look more attractive for our boss. I doubt there are any woman out there actually willing to do anything just for sex." Gregory answered while pushing the trolley into a corridor, the two chatted as they pushed the trolley through a maze of corridors towards the cold room where other corpses were being preserved in.

" Wait! Wait!" A shout came as another security guard ran over. " Bring this one to the prep room, boss wants it today."

" This little lady here must be the bosses type, didn't think she digged the serious, studious type." Gregor joked as he brought the trolley to a stop.

" Quiet Gregor. Drinks after this?" Gregory chastised Gregor while switching the topic. Both Gregor and the other security guard agreed as they then pushed the trolley into the prep room, leaving it there for the other person to prepare the goods. They then headed off to enjoy their break.

=============

Doctor wulf got up groggily as she changed and prepared herself. It was already late at night and she hated being woken up at odd hours, but what could she say when her boss, melissa, wanted the new corpse prepared now? Wulf knew what happened to the previous doctor that Melissa had hired. They had been uncomfortable with the side job of preparing Melissa's toys and wanted to spill the beans, instead they had gotten their guts spilled all over the floor Infront of wulf when she got hired as a warning.

Walking through the building, exchanging greetings with the guards she passed by, she made her way into the corpse preparation room. It was a cold room set at 10 degrees Celsius with its own ventilation system. There were several displays and machines placed against a wall, with the center of the room dominated by a large, person sized table with a strong light above it. The table had a sink with a long wash hose at one end for cleaning corpses.

" And they didn't put the corpse on the table for me. Tsk!" Wulf muttered under her breath as she noticed the corpse container place at a corner, the central table missing a corpse that should've been there. Wulf went over to open the container and move the corpse to the table.

" They finally got one unmarked huh?" Wulf remarked as she lifted the corpse by its neck and legs. It was surprisingly light for its size, a fact that wulf was grateful for as she lowered it gently onto the table. Though wulf would not admit it, she began enjoying such duties, the corpses of these young women often reminded her of the dolls she played with when she was young, life sized dolls that she could move around as she pleased. This one Infront of her was a grade above the previous ones however. With it's long, black hair, smooth porcelain like skin and a thin, though slightly curvy body. It looked like a princess, like one cursed to eternal slumber from the fairy tales she used to read in the past. The clothes also did much to make her look the part. A red blazer inlaid with yellow fabric over a plain white shirt covered her upper body. She wore a black miniskirt that went to her knees and black shear stockings that covered her legs below.

Looking at this, wulf decided to keep the clothes intact and carefully remove them and set them aside. Normally she would just use a pair of scissors to cut them open and take them off, but she felt that her boss melissa might like the look of this corpse in its original clothes. She took off it's leather shoes and put it aside, unbuttoned it's blazer and shirt and then unfastened it's miniskirt, leaving the corpse in its underwear and stockings.

"Planning for something special?" Wulf wondered when she noticed that the corpses panties and bra matched, both a lacy black design. She unfastened it's bra and removed it's stockings along with it's panties, noting the wet stains and sticky lines of fluids between them and the corpses crotch as they were removed. The corpses pussy was slightly loose and open, easily letting wulfs gloved fingers in as she inserted two in all the way to her knuckles.

" Either she was secretly a slut or they injected her with aphrodisiacs before killing her. It should be the latter right?" Wulf wondered aloud. Deciding that the leftover arousal in the pussy would make good lubricant, wulf decided not to wash the insides. But there was another matter to handle first, leftover urine. Using one hand to bring the corpses knees to its chest, wulf used the other to gently massage it's lower stomach, her fingers gently massaging the corpses clit. Soon enough, a burst of urine squirted out, followed by a weak stream of urine. Wulf kept up the massage until no more urine was released, she then used the hose to rinse the urine away to the sink.

With the preparation for the bottom done, wulf moved her attention to the top. The nipples of the corpses modest breasts had stiffened slightly, faint beads of white liquid could be seen around them. Wulf assumed those were due to aphrodisiacs. With no irregularities here, wulf moved on to the head. The corpses head had no visible damages or bruising, so nothing for wulf to cover up or touch up on. With the corpse ready for the next step, wulf rinsed the body with the hose before preparing some soap. Luckily the corpse had maintained it's hair well, so no work was needed there, wulf only had to wash off sweat and dirt from it's body. Making sure to rub all the different corners that dirt might get trapped in, it took wulf 15 minutes to wash the corpse with soap and then dry it off with a towel. Once she was done, wulf transferred the corpse naked to another trolley, covering its body with a sheet.

" Ugh, finally it's done. Time to sleep again." Wulf rejoiced as she left the room, switching off the lights as she did so. Bringing the corpse to her bosses room was another person's job.

============

Melissa laid back on a chair lazily as she slipped a glass of wine, she was naked save for a loose, unbuttoned white shirt she wore, her long hair left untied as it draped over her shoulders onto her chest. Tonight was a night for relaxation, to unwind after the stressful business dealings in the day. A bowstring strung too tight will snap after all, rest and relaxation was important for maintaining her performance. And for Melissa, rest meant playing with her dolls, those cute little things. She enjoyed dressing them up in different clothes and then removing them, playing with their naked bodies as she licked up the wine she poured on them. Biting and licking at different parts of their body to mark them, claim them as her own. Thrusting dildos up their pussies as she imagined their faces. Would she moan? Would she be bashful and stifle her moans? Or would she embrace the pleasure and let them out? Melissa fingered herself as she imagined. Sometimes when the arousal got too great, she would put on a double headed dildo and use it to thrust into the corpses pussy, imagining herself fucking them. Once she was satisfied, she would hang the corpse by its wrists and enjoy the view of it's naked body as she sat and sipped some wine. Much like she did right now, the corpse of a blonde haired woman displayed Infront of Melissa as she enjoyed the view.

" Hey, you can bring the new doll up now." Melissa reached over and requested through the intercom, tonight was different. A new corpse had just came in, and Melissa just had to have it today. It hit too many of her preferences for her to wait, a tall yet delicate looking young woman. It was as close a doll as one could ask of a human. So after warming up with the blonde haired doll, Melissa waited for her staff to bring the corpse to her.

Minutes went by and still no doll. Melissa got up and began pacing impatiently, cursing the tardiness of her staff. Suddenly, a figure dashed in and delivered a kick straight to her solar plexus. Melissa couldn't react and bent over in pain. A push came from behind as Melissa fell forwards, the breath knocked out of her chest as she felt a body pressing against her back pushing her into the ground.

" Wait--" Melissa begged before an arm around her throat squeezed her windpipe shut. Melissa struggled under her assailant to no avail, a rear naked choke was inescapable if executed properly. And properly executed it her assailant did. Melissa's body soon began unconsciously spasming, her arms and legs kicking out with no particular aim.

*Why?* Melissa thought to herself as her vision faded to darkness, she couldn't think of what she did to deserve such a fate. Her assailant kept up the chokehold even as Melissa's body went still and her eyes rolled back. Only when Melissa's body began pissing itself after three minutes did Melissa's killer get up and tidied herself. Wearing a red, yellow blazer with a black miniskirt, she was the corpse that just got delivered and was supposed to be enjoyed by Melissa.

===========

* Just walk around dressed nicely and hope to get caught? What idiot came up with such a plan?* Vivian complained in her mind as she strolled about town, drawing stares as she did so. It was all part of the plan to assassinate Melissa, a rich businesswoman who normally hid in her own fortified house. It leveraged Vivian's ability to revive after death in order to infiltrate as a corpse doll for Melissa. It was abit of a longshot considering they weren't even certain Melissa collected corpse dolls, it just seemed highly likely given the disappearances of young women in a certain part of town and Melissa's house getting shipments from that area in refrigerated trucks.

At worst Vivian will just get picked up by a weird guy if they turn out to be wrong, and she should be able to get out of such a simple situation on her own. These were her bosses words when Vivian complained about the lacklustre plan.

And so, unable to complain, Vivian walked around aimlessly, visiting cafes and bookstores every now and then. But even after hours of waiting as evening came, no one approached her, no one kidnapped her. It seemed that the plan wasn't working, so she decided to end it here for the day and go back home. But as a final attempt, she she decided to walk though a long, secluded alleyway. If someone had been following her, surely that would be a very tempting location for them.

And sure enough, as she walked though the dim alleyway in the evening sun, a figure suddenly appeared at the other end wielding a knife and approached Vivian.

" Who?... Who are you? Don't come over." Vivian stretched out her hand as she begged, pretending to be a scared young lady.

The figure didn't respond and simply kept approaching, Vivian took a few steps back only to bump into another figure behind her. Turning around with a scared look on her face, Vivian saw a tall man standing behind her. The man lifted an arm and jabbed at Vivian's neck with a syringe in hand.

* This must be Melissa's body snatchers, time to let them do their thing.* Vivian concluded, the mission hadn't failed. She let the syringe stab into her neck, the pain of the sudden insertion turning into hot pleasure as it's contents were injected into Vivian's arteries.

" Mphff! Ahhh!" Vivian involuntarily moaned as she stepped backwards clutching her neck away from the second man. Arousal seeped though her panties and stockings and slowly dripped onto the ground below Vivian. Her breaths quickened, her chest heaving as her body struggled to cope with the immense arousal. Vivian's cheeks flushed as her face unconsciously contorted into an expression of absolute pleasure. She could not even think of anything other than the pleasure, not the mission, not anything else.

Just as her climax was about to hit, her pleasure about to reach it's peak, the first figure wrapped their arm around her neck and twisted her ner neck with it. Vivian's body climaxed when its neck was broken, her body shaking and spasming as a torrential of femcum squirted from her pussy onto the ground below, her arms falling slack to her sides as her legs while her legs kicked out. The first figure supported Vivian's body as it rode out it's final orgasm. Once the spasms ended, they moved to hold Vivian's corpse by the armpits while the other guy held the legs. They then lay her into a box they prepared nearby and wrapped it up, moving it to another building to be sent off.

=============

Vivian's eyes fluttered open as she lay on the corpse preparation table naked having revived. Death was not a sensation less void for her, Vivian could still vaguely sense her body and surroundings, though she had no control over her body. So it was absolutely embarrassing for her when the doctor had made her corpse urinate. Having someone massage her lower stomach and lift her knees in order to make her pee, that was just too much. She had prepared herself mentally for having her body used while she was dead, but this was something else.

Anyways, back on target. Vivian looked around and noticed that the room was dark and empty. Shivering in the cold air, she stumbled around until she found the light switches. Putting on her clothes, the wet stains on her panties and stockings were cold to the touch, but she couldn't just leave them here, so she beared with the discomfort and wore them still.

Vivian had a guess of the layout of the house due to the blueprints submitted by Melissa to the city when getting permission to build the house. Even if much had been remodeled, her boss had passed her several other possible plans of the house based on the original one incase it turns out there were modifications. Using these, she sneakily made her way around the house to where she suspected Melissa's room to be at, taking care to avoid cameras and patrols along the way.

Though in the end, it wasn't too hard to find as Melissa's part of the house was much better decorated than where Vivian had came from and her room was the only one lit. Confirming that Melissa was in the room and pacing about with no one else nearby, Vivian pulled the door open and rushed in, kicking Melissa in the solar plexus before she could react. Vivian channeled her prior embarrassment into force as she then got behind Melissa and pushed her down. Not letting Melissa speak for long, she wrapped her arm around Melissa's neck, strangling her until she was dead. Her chokes and spasms a slight catharsis for Vivian.

Certain that Melissa was now dead, Vivian got up and prepared to leave, though not before snapping a few pictures of herself beside Melissa's corpse using her phone for proof.

=≠==========

" And so you're saying you hid yourself in a trash bag and then killed yourself to pretend to be a bag of trash in order to escape? That's why you're the best Vivian, good job." Vivian sheepishly thanked her boss as they congratulated her, tapping her on the shoulders as they did so.

Afterword: took a long time to release another one huh? Between irl stuff and an inability to commit to a idea, it took some time before I decided enough was enough and I had to at least finish one of them. And in the end, it was this story idea that got finished.

It's abit different compared to the previous ones. Not only is it pretty long, I feel like the sex and gore parts were abit shorter this time. Not sure whether that's a good thing or bad thing. But hope it still turns out fine.