Sick Fiction

This story is called Dark Creatures. I wrote it awhile ago (back in late July) because I was bored and had naughty thoughts in my head. If you know who this story is about... good for you! But I don't care. Nor do I want to hear complaints about it.

~*~

Slowly the two females lowered themselves onto the luxurious bed decorated with black silks and satins, fine fabrics arrayed in a majestic manner with the sleeping platform's canopy. The keen eyed panther lay on her back as the black dragoness hung above her, a scaled and clawed paw gently caressing the obsidian panther’s furry side. Vibrant golden hues from the scaled creature’s visage eyed her companion with a lust only contained and experienced by those with dragon blood. The panther murred softly, teasing smile creeping across ebony lips to reveal pearly sharp canines. The dark, brooding eyes of the panther remain focused on her female partner, her only female partner. Though the dark feline considered herself one for the opposite sex, she had a pact and a promise with the dragon to share such intimacies. Not because of obligation, but because of desire and experimentation; because of a strange bond that no other creature could ever comprehend. These two creatures expressed a love for each other like no other, and it was in private that they expressed it to one another.

Kalizk, the panther, reached a delicate- yet worn- paw up to her neck where she idly touched a spiked, leather collar. It spoke of no particular ownership, but the passionate, submissive creature was well aware of the personal intent that she deemed the object with. Though very capable of being dominant, she got a kick out of being dominated. Thick tail curled and lashed beneath her at the thought as she lay beneath her companion.

The dragon, Wyngaed, spread her scaled wings, claws extending and dark membrane stretching and becoming thinner, making way for light between the veins; it almost appeared to be like the thin silk that hung about them. She crouched above her personal love, taloned footpaws resting on each side of the tempting panther. Well armored scaled forearms that gave way to deadly claws were stroking Kalizk lovingly and carefully. As her left clawed appendage stroked near the feline’s neck there materialized a leather leash. Deftly, Wyngaed attached it and tied it securely, but not uncomfortably, to the bed. Kalizk purred. The dragon proceeding to grab at the decoration hanging from the canopy in her companion’s lair and began to lash the felines forepaws to the wrought iron bars at the head of the large bed, using the long yet sturdy pieces of fabric.

The panther purred louder, the gentle rumble emitting from the core of her being. She waited and watched her companion. She let all of her muscles relax, the tension of arousal and excitement easing. She would let herself be completely at the will of the dark dragon.

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And there you have it. Some good old fashioned furry smut. Nothing too demented or sick this time but hey... this community needed some action.

Coming soon should be some Geek Squad smut which should be rather hilarious. ^_~

FUCKING BITCH.

WRITE SOMETHING IN HERE YOU WHORES!

Oh, I plan to write something... either on a personal fantasy or a personal fantasy regarding a velociraptor tearing animal activists to shreds.

...probably the second one.
Toodles.

And write, you mutha-fuckas.

My first totally sick fiction. Concerns things I usally don't write about- especially this graphically. But hey, I made this community so I could write this kind of stuff!

Anthro, Rape, Murder. Enjoy.

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Jeathro stalked into the dank, run-down apartments. His naked paw pads strode silently across the worn and stained carpet. The hallway smelled vaguely of Spam and cigarette butts. The strange, lanky creature was clad in a dark, flowing trenchcoat that billowed in his wake. Jeathro moved with a fluid grace only achievable not only by years of practice, but by pure instinct. The weasel, which Jeathro happened to be, was a born killer. Experts in stealth and with a natural grace that came from ingrained knowledge so vital it was burned into their minds.

The silent weasel was merely a shadow, hunched and creeping to his destination. Jeathro was far from normal in his calculating mind and overall appearance. When revealed momentarily in a dim hallway light it was apparent that he wore a top hat and even adorned a small, shimmering monocle over his left golden eye. His face was covered in short, soft chocolate brown fur with a few stray splotches of cream on his right cheek. His muzzle was sleek and slim, coming to a point with a pert, wet black nose as translucent whiskers twitched spasmodically. His rounded ears protruded from the sides of the soot colored top hat that was accented by a purple ribbon about it.

Jeathro became a shadow once more, his scruffy tail peeping out of the trenchcoat was the last thing to disappear into darkness. A faint tinkling sound was made as the weasel began to carefully paw through a ring of apartment keys he had gotten reproduced the day previous. The time now was 2 a.m.

Jeathro ran a black padded forepaw against a wooden apartment door with dull, brass numbers reading 207. He smiled softly, pearly sharp teeth gleaming. Jeathro unlocked the door silently and stepped into the sound sleeping apartment. He closed the door softly and edged towards the bedroom. Weeks of monitoring the activity within and studying the floor plans had paid off.

The bedroom door was open. Jeathro slipped in and quickly crouched, melding into the darkness. He stared at the satin white bed sheets and, with a jerk of surprise, he realized there were two forms in the bed instead of one like had expected.

“Little Whore.” Jeathro thought to himself as he crept forward to study the woman- his woman’s- bed partner. He stared carefully at the squashed faces capable of showing a panorama of emotions and made out the male’s features. He was young with a poor excuse for facial hair building up around his muzzle. Jeathro sneered at the thin lips and wide flaring nostrils and noted that the man was already in a deep sleep. The two of them must have gone to bed around 11.

With careful, practiced movements the weasel worked in silence. He produced a clean rag and a medium vial from the folds of his trenchcoat. He applied the potent liquid sparingly, turning his head from the noxiously strong scent. He plugged the vial back up and placed it back from whence it came. With cold, calculating precision he brought the rag firmly to the man’s mouth and pressed his own weight atop him. The man only spasmed once before he blacked out into a deep slumber that he would never wake from.

Jeathro grinned. The girl beside him mumbled in her sleep and rolled from her right side to her back. Jeathro’s work was far from done.

The dark furred weasel crept around the bed as silent as an assassin and began removing implements from his many hidden pockets as he studied the slumbering young woman. Jeathro produced handcuffs, rope and duct tape as his main instruments. Slowly, carefully he eased the girl into a better position, moving her long golden locks out of her face. He wouldn’t drug her. No, no, he wouldn’t drug her. Jeathro wanted her wide awake for his little game.

Quickly he pressed duct tape across her mouth, surprisingly the pressure did not wake her, but rather the rip as he tore the strip off the roll. Her eyes widened in fright and a gurgled scream came from her throat.

“No, no… precious. Don’t struggle.” Jeathro said softly, flicking a switchblade from his left sleeve and bringing it close to the woman’s throat. She quieted but her soft blue hues remained focused on the strange creature in her bedroom.

Jeathro straddled her thin, lithe form and suddenly she was aware of the creature’s erection. Her head jerked and looked down as a startled look crossed her features that had caused Jeathro to grin dangerously at her. He was far larger and much stronger than the female and was not concerned if she put up a struggle. While she remained in slight shock he quickly placed the switchblade in his maw and produced the handcuffs, swiftly hooking her to the headboard of her bed. He slipped the rope around her neck and tied it firmly to her handcuffed wrists and smirked at her, raising his eyebrows.

The woman struggled slightly, pulling at her bonds in a futile struggle as the weasel sat atop her. Though she was firmly secured she refused to accept her fate that night and her eyes remained wide with horror. Jeathro removed the sharp blade from his teeth and cooed softly to her, speaking in an almost baby voice, “Don’t struggle, my dear, lie still. Lie still.” He said in a singsong voice.

Jeathro used the switchblade to cut the woman’s nightgown open, straight up the middle, and revealed her full, supple breasts and perked nipples. Her chest was rising and falling in small huffs. The weasel’s gaze traveled down her form and he chuckled softly when he noted the woman wore no panties and was already revealed before him. He stared at her soft furred mound and smirked at her. His need was getting greater.

The creature removed his clothing; top hat, monocle, trenchcoat and black denim jeans and sat before the frightened woman completely exposed. His manhood erupted from a pouch within his fur and tapered to a rounded, delicate tip. It was a wet obsidian shaft that was complimented proportionally by two furry round orbs below.

Jeathro leaned forward and cupped her two, full breasts in his paws and nuzzled, nipping playfully at the sensitive flesh. But he would not waste time with foreplay. He brought his head down and took in her scent, reaching down to force her legs apart. The woman shook her head and struggled, but Jeathro continued to force her legs apart and lowered his head, dipping his tongue into her pink folds to taste her. He was slightly surprised to find that the woman was already very wet. He shrugged it off and decided it might have been a factor of her getting so nervous.

A wicked grin spread across the weasel’s face. He could take her as she was and not need to play with her or use any sort of lubrication. With a satisfied smirk he realized she was ready for him.

He guided his engorged member to her warm folds. He was large, most likely much larger than her previous partner. The woman struggled and thrusted up her hips in an attempt to avoid his questing organ but instead she provided him an opportunity to enter her swiftly. He was over her as she thrusted and the woman herself caused the weasel to penetrate her completely. Startled, she tried to pull away to avoid his throbbing penis that was foreign to her womanhood. Jeathro followed her move and then pinned her down.

The weasel cooed softly at his sexual victim and leaned over her to lick at her neck and ear. “Relax, my darling. Relax.” He said as he slowly began to work his hips. Tail arched he explored the warm depths of the female, thrusting again and again through the slick passageway. He groaned softly, quickening his pace, pushing his manhood against her just the right way. He had practiced often with many women just like this one.

The woman beneath him gasped and moaned softly as his large organ stroked against her just the right way. A look of frightened shock came over her as she couldn’t believe what she was feeling. The noise emitted from her and the slight loosening of her thighs was enough to drive the yiffy weasel to his maximum efforts. Not only was pleasure rippling through his loins with every pulse, the female he was screwing was getting off despite her best efforts to remain horrified and detached from the situation.

She breathed rapidly, breath coming out in short huffs through her nostrils and a gurgling moan was building up in her throat. With an explosion of warmth over his still hard member the young woman came, and came hard. Chest heaving she fell back, oblivious to the maddening speed of the lithe weasel atop her. Jeathro began pounding her at a frantic rate, driving himself so deep with each powerful thrust that the woman flinched.

“Take it, you little whore.” Jeathro said with a sneer, a low growl building in his throat. He penetrated her with his hardened erection until he thought the very fibers of her vagina must have been tearing. He leaned atop her, gripping her shoulders with his rough paws, digging obsidian claws into her vulnerable flesh and drawing blood.

The woman’s eyes rolled. Despite the pain, his driving efforts were still stimulating her clitoris and the deep, hidden spot of pleasure within the soft, pink folds of her vagina. She shuddered as she came again and with a final violent thrust Jeathro arched his back, spilling his warm seed to fill her insides. He groaned, chest heaving and thrusted a few more times while his member was still stiff for good measure.

Jeathro pulled back and unleashed a small pool of white liquid, both the female’s and his own, mingling with blood that spilled from her vagina. The woman was not menstruating when he began his dirty deed.

He leaned over, his thick musk permeating the air about the two beings. He ripped the tape off her mouth and before she could scream his mouth was fiercely upon hers and his tongue questing within. He bit her lip and tasted blood and smiled. The woman was too shocked and exhausted to scream or struggle anymore.

Jeathro debated waiting a few moments and then taking the young woman again but decided against it. No, he thought. It was best he finish the job and get out of there.

Beside him on the bed lay the switchblade in the spot it had been laid to rest before his vigorous sexual activity. Deftly, he snatched up the sharp weapon, blade still exposed and before the woman could utter one little whimper he thrust the knife into her chest and pierced her heart. The woman choked and did not die immediately. Jeathro stood and straddled her upon the bed, hovering above her. She writhed in pain and choked once more, her eyes wide with terror as she now faced death.

Jeathro leaned back and relaxed and released his water, sending his golden stream all over her face and mortal wound. A sick, satisfied smile crept across the weasel’s features. Her dying breath became a gurgle. The woman then lay still.

Swiftly, the weasel dressed himself, removing his implements from his victim; Handcuffs, rope, knife. After they were all accounted for he dressed himself in a casual manner and then walked around to the other side of the bed. The man still slumbered deeply. The movement of his chest was barely noticeable. With a small snap the switchblade still covered in the woman’s blood was out. He slit the man’s throat quickly and deeply, making short work of him. In his coma state he wouldn’t even feel a thing as his life ebbed away.

The dark weasel went to the window and climbed out onto the fire escape. He licked the blood carefully off of his knife and then placed it safely away in the folds of his sleeve.

With the stealth of a born, natural killer, Jeathro slipped silently down the fire escape stairs and into the night.

Elementary Class Burned Alive, Community Turns Optimistic


At a community council meeting in Shoreview, Minnesota, group leaders Fred Ingine and Rachel Ester lead the rejoicing of their newly found optimistic outlook of life.

"We're really happy with the way things are going," Ingine said, "We can't thank those children enough."

No thanks needed Fred.

On April 15, 2005, Mrs. Doubtfire and her first grade class were burned to charcoal fertilizer as they were on a nature observation field trip. Regular forest burnings happen every year to lower forest fire threat, and to help fertilize the soil. Mrs. Doubtfire's class happened to be in the wrong forest at the wrong time.

One of the fire workers caught the burning on tape. Showing it to the community helped point out a part of this incident that would've otherwise been easily overlooked.

"In the viewing, screams of what were thought as pain and anguish can be heard," Fred exclaimed, "But after careful review, we now know the screams are actually ones of joy and happiness. The kids got to go a step further than just seeing mother nature, they got to join her! This really helped us realize that there is a bright side to everything."

Even after this incident, the community continues to see the bright side of life. Just last weekend Fred said he accidently had his testicles removed while attending the wrong surgery room at his hospital.

"They had surgery orders mixed up, so instead of leg surgery, I had my nuts chopped off. Usually I would be pretty pissed," Fred said, "But thanks to these kids, I can now see the positive of this situation. I don't have to ever worry about reproducing another one of those little shits!"

Not only do these kids get their dreams realized, but they also get the pleasure of contributing to mother nature with their bodies. The fire burners believe if they leave the burned bodies to decompose, they will greatly act as a fertilizer for the earth.

"They get to help make those lovely daffodils and cute tulips we all enjoy!" Rachel said with a smile. "I just think it's great how much good we can now see in each situation, these kids definitely fuel our community."

"With any luck," Rachel continued, "Other students will follow in these kids' footsteps and show how they can really make good use of their what was once thought as, useless bodies."

Ok, so I said no more posts from me unless it was a story... I lied.

Though membership is small I have a question for those of you here...

What other words could be added to the Interest list? I'm no good with coming up with these things since I haven't been entirely up an active on the whole lemons and fanfic writing. I enjoy it, I used to read it... but I'm dusty on the terminology and I know there's other things to be added... like... vore and... I don't know. That's all I got, actually. Heh.

Put your noggins together and list some things for me in the Comments. I'll add them asap.

Thanks for your time!

Welcome to Sick Fiction! This is a new community for fiction writers. One must apply to join (however I don't intend to turn any memberships down) and all posts (after this one) are to be of stories!

If you want to post a small introduction of yourself, your work and include a link to your site(s) please put them with THIS POST.

Once again, as stated on the Information page... this community is RATED R. I will not be held responsible for children stumbling across this community. There is no age limit, necissarily, for posters, however I do request that you be mature, intelligent and somewhat talented at writing coherantly. If you think you can be here, read the posts made and submit your own then by all means be here.

If this community offendes you in any way... let it be known no one is FORCING you to look at it. If you don't like what you see then click the BACK BUTTON. I will not be flamed for the offensive materials that get posted here.

There is a rule I might be inforcing, depending on how membership goes over the next month or so. Here it is; If one wishes to be a member here they must contribute stories! Not necissarily frequently, but often enough that you're an involved member of the community. I'll have no lurkers. If I suspect you're lurking you will be removed from the membership list. If you want to just read the entries just Friend this community instead. Comments are allowed from non-members. Anonymous posts will be screened.

Comments should be enabled on all posts. DO NOT post critique unless the initial poster requests it.

... with all that said... have fun. Expect a post from me eventually. I'm a furry writer, generally, so anything I write will me mostly anthro based.