The Starfish Affair

By DX

Karen, Alice's lab assistant, stole not only Alice's grant money and ruined her career, but also helped herself to Alice's Breast Enhancement formula.  But what Karen doesn't know is during a trip to the South American jungle, Alice developed a taste for a rare delicacy!

Mad-Science, erotic horror, wild torture and cruel torment!  This over the top story has it ALL!  

Copyrighted Feb 2000, 10/2023, all rights reserved.  Story may not be duplicated without written consent from the author.

Karen shivered in the cold, damp air. She could see the waves of goose pimples ripple across her melonous breasts, as her nipples swelled to the size of thumbs.

It wasn't the cold that made her shiver.

She didn't try to protest. It would have done her no good even if they had not ripped the tongue from her mouth a week or so ago. They had strapped her to a post, secured her head and body with thick, leather restraints, then rammed a heavy gauge steel ring through her tongue, which was then hooked to a come-a-long.

It surprised her, as it always had, that she was not beyond feeling. The never-ending cycle of pain would always renew and refresh in its delivery of unimaginable trauma. How could her charred, shredded throat still scream with such volume, spiraling upwards as the torment turned up a notch, was beyond her.

Her tongue was stretched slowly as they took their time, clicking the handle of the ratchet with intended affect. Her tendons strained and stretched, pulling her tongue out beyond imagination. She was choking as her neck pulled too far, and her tongue still going further.

It exploded with a fine shower of blood as her tongue finally gave way and ripped from her mouth, leaving a stringy trail of tendons and veins.

The last time they removed her tongue, they had nailed it to a table and let hungry rats nibble it off. The time before that, they nailed it high on a wall, then let her hang from it until her own, pain wrought thrashing caused it to finally tear.

Now, in the cold, cold cellar, she waited her fate. Ahmed busied himself by testing the mechanism that would release the guillotine over and over again, giggling madly each time the blade slammed home.

She felt the Professor's hand on her shoulder push her forward. Karen didn't resist. She couldn’t.

She didn’t really want too.

Karen gazed distantly, unresponsively at the monstrous machine before her. Polished wood and gleaming brass brackets and screws handsomely made up its base like a collector's piece of fine furniture and not a butcher's toy of death. Its blade, locked in its casement above, glimmered like a mirror, its edge wickedly sharp. A heavy spring coiled against it so when the trigger was thrown, it fired down with tremendous force and ensured a crisp, clean cut.

Karen had laid her breasts before its blade before and felt the steel slice through her flesh. They had been her pride and joy; her mammoth, attention grabbing breasts were worshiped, even adored, but they were only quivering mounds of flesh, locked in the guillotine's unyielding embrace. Unable to move away she could only watch the gruesome fate. With a snap, it was over, faster than an instant. Suddenly slicing her open to a quickly flooding torrent of pain. A white-hot iron seared her flesh and kept her from bleeding to death, and adding to her seeming never-ending, nightmare of pain.

They force fed her for months and fattened her up. When they had put enough weight on her, they brutally harvested her arms with a chain saw. Her new grown breasts were put into the breast guillotine and with a snap of the flashing blade, her massive breasts popped of and dropped into the basket.

That had been months ago.  Her breasts had re-grown to a lovely size and shape, but she knew it wouldn't last because they would continue to grow, becoming monstrous and unbearable before they finally cut them off for their Breast Beacon breakfasts. Her arms were already re-grown. 

The re-growth was happening faster.

As Karen stared painfully at the guillotine, its single hole where her neck would rest before her, she was unable to decide if she should be happy or distraught. This was it, the torment would be over. She wondered why they didn't harvest her breasts before the final act? Although they were not their usual over ripe size, they were plenty large enough.

Pushed closer to her fate, to the blade, the final torment, her mind reeled back to the day it all began.

Teaser: for the whole story, consider supporting us at:
https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1062074

Copyrighted, 2000, 2019, 2023, all rights reserved.

Hunger

By DX

Copyrighted 4/2017, 5/2023

All rights reserved.  

VORE!  A man plans to have his way with his sexy neighbor while his battered wife is gone for two weeks, unaware that his beautiful neighbor HUNGERS for him!  Erotic Horror!  

 He stood at the end of his driveway and watched the mini-van filled with his family ramble off down the quiet street into the early morning sun.  He waved goodbye until it was out of sight.  She was off to visit her parents, the kids to their grandparents, leaving him home alone to get “things” done.  It would be two whole weeks of freedom.

 As he made his way back to the house his thoughts turned to his list of projects.  Paint the kitchen, clear out the garage, and do Miss Smythe.  

 The thought of her body lying next to his made him quiver like a teenager.  She had moved into the neighborhood about a year ago.  No one had see very much of her since, but what they had seen was quite tasty.  She was petite, yet curvy with a magnificent wriggling butt and mammoth tits, the kind that needed custom bras.  Her long blonde hair was spun gold.  Her lips were pouty and succulent, always smiling, warm and happy. 

 And her eyes.  As if they were unable to decide if they wanted to be green, hazel or brown, they almost scintillated through the color of autumn.  When they looked at you, they looked into you, almost wanting, almost pleading, almost saying out loud, “Please?  Please fuck me?”

 And that was exactly his intent.  

 As he walked back to the house the idea that had hid in his head for a year was now free to properly plan.  He’d shower, put on some cologne and a little hair oil, and wear his black jeans, the ones that still fit, and a loose pullover that mostly hid his six-month pregnant beer belly.   He’d go to her back door where the neighbors couldn’t see--this time of day there would be no one around anyway, and he would invite himself in, chitchat, see what she had for beer, or wine, or whatever.  They would both know what was to happen and it would only be a matter of moments before nature would take its course.

 He acknowledged a little physical influence might be needed for her to acquiesce and he was no lightweight in the strength department.  A small woman like her would be no trouble for him.  In the end, she would like it.

 She would love it.

 They all did.

 He was grinning, agreeing with the plan.  And what if she fought?  He scoffed.  Who would believe her?  He was a pillar of the community and she was an un-married spinster, a slut.  Dressing the way she did, her hand always touching his arm a little too long to be just a casual touch.

 She was asking for it!

 As he reached for the screen door a white flutter caught his eye.  He looked back.  He blinked, and his face drained of all emotion as his mouth hung slack.

 Walking down middle of the street her was chemise flowing, moving like a majestic jelly fish, glowing in the morning sun and sliding about her ankles, her thighs, sweeping up into her neither regions, pulling tight against her pillowy breasts, breasts he could lay his head down and sleep.

 The sunlight passed through her chemise, showing she was completely naked and unabashed.

 Her hair danced, laughing in the light breeze, her cheeks shimmering in the light.  Her eyes were closed and her mouth was parted, as if she was trying to breathe the morning into her lungs.

 As he watched her turn, gliding, bold as could be to his front gate, he tried to close his agape mouth but failed.  She walked up the cracked stone path almost as if she was playing hopscotch, her breasts heaving magically.

 She looked up at him.  Her face was wanton, and her cheeks were blushing.  “May I come inside?”

 Mouth still open, he only stared at her wonderful, delicious breasts.  He had to force his eyes to look away.

 They caught her eyes.

 They were as gold and warm as the dawn.

 Stammering, he said, “Yes, uh, yes, in come, come yes, come in!”

 Stumbling though the door his plan crashed with reality.  She was here and clearly had a plan that would skip the pretense of chitchat and get right to the heart of the matter.

 He quickly picked things up, almost embarrassed at the state of the house.  His wife had scrambled the kids out of the house leaving a swath of unmatched socks and worn tee-shirts, but she simply dismissed it, looking around.  “This is nice.”  She said, her voice like a bubbling brook.  “You don’t have to worry about that.”  She touched his arm to stop him.  “Relax, it’s just the two of us, right?  No interruptions for two whole weeks.”  She locked the front door.

 The idea made him dizzy.  Two weeks of taking her breasts in both hands and lifting them to his mouth and sucking on them, drawing them into his mouth until he choked on them.

 Her hand was wonderfully warm, her voice gentle and soothing.  He stopped what he was doing and dumped everything on the floor.  She touched his chest and sent sparks through his body.  “Why don’t you take off your clothes?”  Her eyes flashed.  “Would you like that?  You can sit on the couch.”

 She turned to pull the curtains as he stripped violently, ripping off his shoes clumsily, almost falling over.  She caught him, her breast sliding against him, so soft.  “Slow down.  We have time.”  He watched her curiously as she went into the kitchen.  He could hear her lock the back door, and pull the dead-bolt.  He undid his trousers and ripped them off.  He was in his underwear when she returned.

 Slowly she reached up and pulled the drawstring of her chemise and it fell from her like a curtain.  Naked, he could only take in her beauty, the sway of her hips like a jungle cat, as she stepped over to him.  Her hands slid under his tee shirt, her magic fingers against his skin, and slid it over his head.

 She slipped her hand into his underpants and pulled them down as she knelt.  Her lips inches from his cock, her moist breath against the sensitive skin, he stirred faster than he had in the last twenty years.  She looked at his swelling member with reverence and hunger.

 “Please?”  Her voice was tiny and thready.  “Please may I take it into my mouth?”  

 He almost passed out from the thought.

 She reached up and took his hand.  “Here, sit on the couch, relax.”  She guided him as she shuffled forward on her knees.  She held his hand and eased him down on the couch.  “Lay back,”  She instructed.  “just lay back.”  She rose up, her breasts resting on his thigh.  She took his hand and caressed her breast with it.  She then licked his fingers, lapping like a kitten before plunging one deep into her searing, hot mouth.  He gasped as she sucked his finger, her eyes sleepy as she watched him.

 “Please?”  She pleaded, sliding her cheek against his raging cock.  “Please let me suck it?  I want to feel you in my mouth.”  Her fingers played across her sweet lips.  “I want your cum on my tongue,” She licked her lips, making them shine.  “your juices down my throat.”  Her fingers splayed down her neck.  “Can I have it?  Would you come in my mouth, please?”

 He nodded numbly.

 She took his hands and placed one on the top of the couch, the other on the cushion, to give him something to hold on to.

 Soft lips ringed his cock, slowly making their way to the base.  He celebrated that he managed to maintain enough control from ejaculating instantly.  Easily she bobbed up and down on his cock, slowly, so slowly, sliding from base to tip and back again in perfect rhythm, moaning in passion and ecstasy.  She glanced up at him through the jungle of her hair, her eyes smiling with delight,

 And hunger.

 He exploded, feeling his cock pulse like an anti-aircraft gun and she squealed in delight, swallowing and swallowing.  His body was ridged, trembling, before easing back, exhausted.

 She sat back, moaning and savoring the taste still on her tongue.  “Delicious!”  She giggled.  “Oh, how good!”  Her eyes, lidded, took him in.  “The perfect appetizer.”