GUROchan Literature Board

This is a tale of a women's prison camp deep in the South American jungle... it just might be the nastiest place on Earth...

Laura was a pretty girl. She was 20, weighed about 110 pounds, she was a cheerleader, a good all American girl. She loved life, was in college and was aspiring towards a good career, a good life. That all ended when she got a DUI driving home from a party. Her parents never knew where she went, or where she was being taken. She might never get to talk to them again. She was oblivious to the horror and discomfort she was about to bare with all of the other girls with her. She was one of those preppy girls who always went shopping and whom daddy bought everything she wanted. Now she was going to be stripped of everything she ever had.

Laura was one of many girls who were put on an overcrowded bus that drove for three days through the steaming, humid, nasty jungle. The girls were so cramped up they were practically sweating on each other. Pure misery, especially for Laura who was used to the comfortable life and air conditioning. The stench was fairly putrid, but it would only get worse. The girls were all in their street clothes right now, and when they entered the camp they would be given uniforms. We will be introduced to several of the girls soon.

Their uniform was very simple. A gray tshirt. Grey short shorts. A pair of socks. A pair of shoes. One pair of underwear, white booty shorts. The uniform came in 3 sizes, small, medium and large. The small was tiny, the medium was small, and the large was not much bigger, so if a fat girl came in(which there are a couple), their clothes would be extremely tight. The shorts would be constantly up their ass and the underwear way too tight. The girls did not get to pick their uniforms, they were assigned. The worst part about the uniform was that that was all they got. They would be expected to wear it for their duration or stay in the camp. No tampons. No spare underwear. No fresh socks. No deodorant...not even a fucking towel or rag.

The Game Room: Step One, Part B


Step One is a great machine, and it provides all manner of interesting little features for the Games. For example, one thing I like to do is confuse a woman’s body, and that’s accomplished with the vibrator mounted in the seat. I can press a button, and it rises up out of the platform that Kristen is on, a sort of large rubber ball that is concave at the end, cupping a toy right around her clit. Even if I’m shoving my cock so far up her ass that it straightens her small intestines, I can make a woman’s pussy cum. Even without the vibrator, I can do it in the blink of an eye, and there’s nothing stranger for a women in peril than to be simultaneously frightened and yet inexplicably orgasming uncontrollably. I decide that this would be a good option with Kristen, and so I hit a button on the side of Step One and activate the vibrator.

“Ah, there you go Kristen,” I say. “Now, back to the matter at hand. Pussy, ass, pussy, ass, hmm, which would you prefer?” She mumbles something, but she’s also softly moaning now as the vibrator has pushed itself firmly against her clit. I chuckle at her body’s reaction, a quick attempt to pull away immediately followed by her noticeable to press her snatch down as firmly as possible. “Well, it’s not your choice anyways. I’m just going to wing it.”

-Sister of Nurgle-
Introduction

The corrupted sister Apphia roamed across the battlefield, the scorched earth crunching sickly underneath her boots, like bones; as she made her way around the rotting dead. Father Nurgle had been successful in the battle and now all that remained was to enjoy the spoils of war. His daemons had made quick work of the pitiful planetary defence force and the first steps were being taken to completely infest the planet. Apphia still retained most of her former beauty, but her loveliness was only skin deep; beneath this veneer she had been blessed and filled with gifts from Nurgle. Her new purpose in life was to spread those blessings.

The moans of a worthless mortal, alerted her to a wounded guardsmen twitching weakly and gurgling in his own blood. She was surprised that any human had survived, but now she had a chance to bring another into the fold.

The guardsman looked up at the Sister of Battle that approached him with glazed eyes, though her face was clean and healthy her armour was encrusted with filth, and all manner of polyps, fungi, scum and other scourges were nestled among it. The noble fleur-de-lis, which symbolized her former order, had been replaced with the pulsating mark of Nurgle. The overwhelming stench of death and decay followed her like a billowing mantle of pestilence, she wrapped around herself; the guardsman had begun to choke the moment the fetid air had enveloped him. Apphia smiled at her luck, she had found someone in need of help and as her grin widened a worse smell began to fill the air. She straddled the lying guardsman and forcefully thrust her tongue into his mouth, choking him as the putrid slime worked its way down his throat, forming lesions and sores wherever it touched. Her thrusts deepened as his tongue stopped resisting and soon she began to feel the first signs of deep infection forming. She lowered his head down and smiled again; for she knew her first gift was appreciated.

After musing for yet another day or so, I decided to commit a thread to pure Jissouseki Abuse. The rules are simple. The story is to be written under your own Alias, and written consistently in good quality. One-shots are preferable. If you wish to submit a chaptered story into this thread, then it must be Labeled with previous chapters via links.

Let the fuckfest begin, with my own submitted story:

Dissection In The Classroom (Part 1)

- - - - -

Today had one of my more disliked classes: Biology. I hated just how disgusting everything looked when they were exposed. Insides weren't meant to be shown to the outside! It just wasn't right. As I filed into the classroom after my fellow classmates, I saw something that made my stomach clench: The chalkboard had the words 'Dissecting Day' on them. Thoughts on slicing frogs open and removing eggs, intestines and other gross things emerged, enhanced by my vivid imagination.

Translation of Gundam Seed Woman Soldier Random Nude 2
Translated by Sayo Saha
(This is also on Doujin World's site)

Artist: KAKInoBOO
Title: Random Nude 2

Page 3
Balloon-01: I had given Kira our nation's ultimate secret, "Freedom"...
And now, I've been declared a traitor to my country.

Balloon-02: Having nowhere to run away to within Plant, I was captured and put in restraints before chairman Zala. (Note: I can't remember if the spelling is Zara or Zala, so modify it as you like)
Balloon-03: They say she's being put through the torture level E, the highest we have...
Balloon-04: It's going to be quite a sight to see such a young girl like Lacus Clyne go through this... Hah hah!

I'm not a very good writer, but I notice there aren't enough pics or stories around about girls of ethnicities other than white or Japanese. So I started writing a story about Indian girls. Trouble is, I don't know how to end the first chapter. Let me know how you think I should finish her.
_____________________
Prologue:

The first thing I did when the seven beautiful prisoners, a young Rajput lady and her six handmaidens, were brought before me, was have my men strip the lady. She was a skinny young thing with a long narrow nose tastefully decorated by a single stud in her left nostril. Parvati, for that was her name, was exactly twenty, and heading to meet her husband to be for the first time. At my order she was instantly seized by five greedy pairs of meaty hands, hands which grabbed at her hot brown flesh, and left short work of her fine garments, which soon lay in tatters around her long dusky legs. Within seconds, her supple body was stripped of every last stitch of clothing, and although her expression lost none of its pride, she slowly lowered herself into a crouching position to cover as much of herself as possible. She was a vision. Her chiseled face was excuisite, her small breasts were topped by dark round nipples which poked out shyly behind her knees, and the soft curves of her ass sat gently on her upturned heels.

The Game: Step One, Part A

I always find it a bit surprising whenever I get a limp body in my arms, that such beautiful creatures are not ethereally light. Kristen is no different. I could use a variety of techniques to make these little outings easier, but it's far more exciting to push the limits, to feel the warmth of anxiousness running through every fiber of my body. To carefully plan a technique, and to risk being seen by the normies. After all, memory erasing is one of few things I actually can't do here.

The last time I saw Kristen before tonight, she and I had gotten a few drinks, and she had told me about her new semester at school. I told her I'd meet her at her apartment--a wonderfully secluded place off campus--when she got out of class. On Mondays, she gets out of class at 9:00, and from my observations, gets home no sooner than 9:10, and no later than 9:13. Her timing is perfectly consistent and predictable, and I'm a meticulous planner. Tonight she got home at 9:12.

By 9:13 she was passed out with a dart to the neck.

The joy of behaving as normies do is something I only do in these scenarios. For the random woman or girl on the street, I just coast through frozen time, unseen by anyone, and the next thing you know, the unsuspecting broad is in my car or being pushed in front of a semi-truck. It's a wonderful mash-up of physics and biology to watch in slow motion as a living woman is reduced to shreds of meat smeared across the pavement. It's even more fun to pause things long enough to set up some video cameras around the scene, and when the bloody mess is over, to close my eyes and concentrate as the bloody mess reassembles itself into that same woman, walking down the street without ever knowing what happened. But I've known Kristen for awhile, and during all that time, I've always wanted to play the Game with her. It's those girls that I know personally that are always the best. On nights where she was so drunk that she couldn't hold back, she tried getting me to fuck her, but it just wouldn't happen. The only good way to cum is when a woman's body is in pieces, and so I've never even had to control her mind to make her horny. On those night where she would throw herself at me, I'd lull her into submission with gentle charm, and simply examine every square inch of her body, observing the proper spots to place her in my machines, planning a very unique and special scenario in my head for our future Game. The time I've taken with Kristen, like those other girls that I've played the Game with in the past . . . well, the wait only adds to my eventual pleasure, it only makes the fire burn deeper inside me. And those other girls were good, but I haven't found the perfect toy. yet

Part One

I was dreaming. Wet dreams of sniffing, licking, and fucking my mom's stinking bare feet soles and toes had my cock harder than steel. The first thing I can remember turning me on was the stink of female feet. My earliest memories period were of my mom playfully rubbing my face with her stinking bare feet and toes while we watched TV or while I played. I had been stealing the neighbour's dirty soiled used pantyhose and socks from her laundry hamper in her private bathroom since I was 9 (she had never locked her door for some reason, and invited me over plenty anyway - I lost my virginity to her around the same time I started stealing her stinky soiled hose) but my Mommy stopped wearing anything on her feet around the time I was born. I was 15 now. I hadn't got caught stealing by my mom or by the neighbour yet, at least not to my knowledge. The neighbour lady had pretty bad foot odor which made me quite happy and I was very glad that her feet stunk so badly. She was a 28 year old nurse, and she also encouraged me to smoke even more than I already was (she said it turned her on to see bright young people like me killing themselves slowly with heavy smoking of many cigarettes). But then she moved out of the building shortly after I turned 10. Which was when my attention began to focus solely on my sexy stinking Mom.

My mom's feet smelled real bad and always had - it was like a cloud of stink emanated from her bare wrinkly soles, and the actual orange-tinted pink-and-yellowed soles, if you were to actually sniff them up close with the tip of your nose touching them, my GOD the stink would be so strong it would be thick like something physical that you could cut with a knife. It would instantly make vomit rise to the back of your throat to even breathe it for a millisecond. My mom walked around barefoot almost all the time, including outside, so not only did her bare soles'n'toes stink, but they were filthy, disgustingly black with dirt and nasty - very dirty, very wrinkly, and bare constantly.