Funhouse
Funhouse.
What starts as fun in a haunted house quickly turns into a real nightmare with kidnappings, public humiliation, and horrifying challenges. Will they escape the twisted spectacle, or become part of its perverse game?
Funhouse.
What starts as fun in a haunted house quickly turns into a real nightmare with kidnappings, public humiliation, and horrifying challenges. Will they escape the twisted spectacle, or become part of its perverse game?
Group project.
However, the situation quickly takes an unexpected turn, leaving the once-dominant Cassandra as a desperate, writhing wreck, begging the once nervy nerds for release. Unravel Cassandra’s humiliating ordeal in this steamy saga.
Tales of terror 2.
The great Lesbi K Leih teams up with the legendary Geoffrey Merrick once again to bring you this incredible all new comic filled with three more stimulating stories of reimagined monster movies! As ever, we know it’s a terrible waste to wanna slice ‘n’ dice dynamite damsels. How about binding, gagging, and having your way with them instead?
Bondage romances 2: Officer caught.
Meet John, a police officer who finds himself in a compromising situation. Desperate to hide his illicit dealings with a trafficker, he attempts to erase all evidence linking him to the criminal. However, his plans are thwarted when he encounters the striking and assertive Officer Nina. Confronted with a gun, John manages to subdue her. For the perky Nina, it is a horrific experience, but for John, it’s a dream come true.
Group X: Vanished.
Meanwhile, Chief Kallahan and her entourage arrive at Judge Dikson’s mansion to discover the demise of the old judge. The judge’s frantic wife accuses the Taylor family and their friend Vera of killing the old crag, and for this, she orders them to be punished and for their skins to be flayed. What levels are they willing to take these punishments to?
The hotties next door 13.
Meanwhile, Chief Kallahan and her entourage arrive at Judge Dikson’s mansion to discover the demise of the old judge. The judge’s frantic wife accuses the Taylor family and their friend Vera of killing the old crag, and for this, she orders them to be punished and for their skins to be flayed. What levels are they willing to take these punishments to?
Red in tooth & Claw 2.
Harry is the star quarterback and team captain of the Hammerheads, the college football team for the Douglass Institute at Midport. His best friend is Fei, a transfer student from China. The two are dorm mates at the Douglass Institute, and Fei is well aware of Harry’s infatuation with his gorgeous, bob-haired lover: Sophie the policegirl!
The house of tears 2.
Emma’s father was found protesting the government in this totalitarian dictatorship. The family had a choice: either they could all be sent to the labor camps to work and starve to their deaths, or Emma could volunteer herself in order to save her family. In the end, it wasn’t a hard choice to make. Emma didn’t want her mother or father or sisters to suffer, so she would do her duty and pay for her father’s misdeeds.
The preacher
Brother Henry had been in the Church of the Chosen for six months now and he was very happy. The religious side had never been a problem. The sect had written their own holy book which was easy to study and easy to read in church.
The rest of his job involved tying up, flogging and fucking.
Henry liked to go slowly and talk dirty, often with his cock in his hand. This girl was new and he wanted to know more about her.
“Have you ever shown your breasts to a man of religion before?” he asked.
“No, Master.”
She had learnt to say “Master” with the help of a bamboo cane on her naked buttocks.
“You weren’t wearing a bra when you arrived,” said Henry. “Why’s that?”
“I don’t always wear one.”
“Is it to show your nipples under your top?”
“I suppose so… Master.”
“When you wear one, what color is it?”
“Black.”
“You should always wear a bra. Tits like these make men sin!”
Henry wet his finger and rubbed it slowly over both her nipples. Then he blew on them and watched as they wrinkled and became erect and tubular…
He picked up a cat o’nine tails with a knot on the end of its nine leather straps.
“I’m going to punish you for your naked breasts! Ask me to punish you!”
The girl looked confused.
“I haven’t done anything wrong!” she said.
The preacher
Maria was Colombian. She had answered an advert for a job as a waitress. A few hours after the interview she woke up in a church crypt, bound and gagged, with a big banana-shaped cock in her ass.
There were two men in the room, both wearing black robes.
For a time nobody spoke. The man in her ass just kept banging away at her. Then suddenly he spoke…
“Take that, bitch! You’re all the same! You know men want to see your tits and your cunts and you cover them up, don’t you? Why do you do it?”
“MMMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!”
“I’m fucking your ass to teach you a lesson, bitch! UGH! It lets me see your cunt too! Take that! UGH! OOOOH”
“MMMMMMMMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!”
“You’re a virgin, aren’t you? In your ass?”
Maria nodded.
“So I’m hurting you, right?”
She nodded again. The man grabbed one of her tits in each hand and squeezed them painfully.
“MMMMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!”
He began slapping them around with his hand, forehand and backhand…
“This is what you’re here for, bitch! To be punished and fucked!”
SLAP! SLAP!
“MMMMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!”
The other Brother stepped forward.
“This is an opportunity to pay for your sins, bitch!” he said. “We’re here to punish you for provoking men and then not showing them your body! We’ll teach you discipline and obedience, whore! Your tits and cunt and ass and mouth belong to us, now, understand?”
Maria nodded.
Witch hunt
The ropes that bound the Corinne to the rough, splintered wood of the rack sang out as the cruel torturer gave the crank another half-turn. The helpless girl screamed in agony, her taut body straining as she was horribly stretched.
“So you see the folly of resisting the will of Mother Church, and her blessed Witch Hunters, slut,” said the so-called monk standing beside the rack. Brother Jamison was a new recruit to the Witch Hunters, but he had taken to his work with genuine enthusiasm. The women of Corinne’s village had never expected the Witch Hunters to come so far north, and so had been taken by surprise when the town crier announced a delegation from the Cathedral was making an appearance at harvest time.
Corrine, like so many of her friends, never had a chance. A single woman living in a remote village, she was easy prey for the Witch Hunters, who declared her and most of the other attractive young women to be “suspected witches” within a day of arrival.
“Please, let me go!” gasped Corinne. She strained to look the monk in the eyes, her dark hair hanging limply behind her as she squirmed. “I’m innocent!”
Prison camp
Panting and gasping, trying to breathe behind the massive cock gags rammed in their mouths, both these slavegirls were glistening with a bright sheen of sweat across their bound, succulent bodies. They whimpered and moaned, and their thick thighs trembled with the effort and the strain… not just to keep their rotor moving but also to stay on two feet… The girls who managed to stay upright and moving during the grueling 14 hour shift would be “rewarded” with a night of pleasure and passion… for the guards who would gangbang and fuck the poor, exhausted ponies at least!
The girls who did NOT keep moving, however… they had it worst of all. Those poor girls, too “weak” to keep running during the 14 hour shift and who collapsed from sheer exhaustion, were thrown into the prison hole… better known as the prison lavatory! After all, if power lines didn’t run out here, sewage certainly didn’t either, and someone needed to eat up all the shit… A future as a permanent human slave toilet was just the ticket for those “naughty” fillies who didn’t keep up the pace!
Black star apocalypse
Admiral Samius’s High Command was preparing a new attack. Meanwhile, the prison Intelligence Service carried on abusing and torturing.
Xagian prisoners who had given them all the information they knew were passed on to specialists in experimental corporeal research. This team included brilliant scientists who had been purged and then handed over to the probers, who worked without scruples of any kind.
They subjected the Xagians to the most horrendous experiments to perfect methods of breeding the probers’ worms in a host body. This breeding program had been kept secret from the beginning. It was even kept secret from the Emperor Azrin himself.
The Great Master Prober had been planning this for a long time. He knew that the probers were an endangered species. Their only method of reproduction was symbiosis with worms that were inserted into other bodies. Now, finally, they had a chance to survive.
The Xagian sat on the fucking machine, her heavy breasts hanging forward and vibrating. She looked at the pink worm in horror.
The probers had got all the information out of her that they could. She was ready for worm insertion. The slimy creature would be inserted into her vagina. Her body already contained a hermaphrodite companion which would be able to procreate after programming by the second worm.
“NOOOOOOOOO!!!” she shouted. “Wait! There’s something you don’t know! It could destroy you!”
Prison camp
The chain gang was a hard life, and it was made harder still by Dominic, the overseer. He walked around in his gross, unwashed tight, white briefs with his cock hanging out like some kind of baboon. The girls didn’t dare to say anything. They couldn’t even if they wanted to. Their mouths were stuffed with massive, jawbreaking ballgags, silencing all complaints.
“Keep digging, you fucking sows! I know there’s a vein somewhere here! If even one of you girls fails to meet your quota for today, you’ll all be sent to the fuckyard where the male convicts will fuck you raw and screaming! Some of you might not even make it out alive…” Dominic said, his tongue lolling out sadistically while he stroked his throbbing cock. “Now… which of you pretties will be my fuckpet today?” he asked, walking behind the mining girls… watching their naked, shapely asses jiggle invitingly with each fall of the pick.
The preacher
The government was corrupt and all its ministers were rich. Most of them took their money out of the country on military planes. But one group decided to invest in the country. They began with a network of prostitutes and the business went well…
“Where else do you get so many fucks and bucks?” one of the ministers said.
“Religion maybe? There’s good money in religion,” was the reply. “If you can set up a good sect, you’re laughing all the way to the bank! And it’s very respectable!”
“Ok, but where are the tits and slits?”
“We can figure something out.”
They did. They used public money and they built several churches all called “The Church of the Chosen”. To get them started, they put ads and fake news about miracle cures in the local media. After a time there was no need for ads and fake news because people claimed to have been cured of illnesses by their preachers.
Disappeared while touring East Africa Republic: Although they had been hearing the warnings concerning the possible dangers of traveling through certain areas of Eastern Africa, sisters Catherine and Julianna had decided that the extremely low travel and lodging rates offered to tourists visiting the small, emerging country called the East Africa Republic was a deal just too good to pass up. Sure, there were the many reports of religious warfare in the outer provinces and the occasional anti-governmental riots and demonstrations; but the regime there, backed by Western interests, seemed to have things under relative control. Besides, the online tourist information sites listed the E.A.R. as having hotels and resorts ranked among the best 4-star facilities in the world. Word was that there would be few problems if tourists limited their activities to areas around the larger towns and the cities. More at Mad BDSM Art.
But Julianna and Catherine, being more robust and adventurous than the usual tourists, just couldn’t resist the lure of exploring the real, genuine aspects of the country; they hired themselves a car with four-wheel drive and employed a trusty-looking and helpful African guide named Tajni. Tanji looked somewhat imposing with his face anointed tribal scars, but he spoke English very well and had the nicest smile. Surely, they would discover more interesting things outside the country’s metropolitan areas.
Fear is an important part of breaking a girl. You have to get her to think about you all the time, even when you’re not there. The anticipation is what really makes her mind crumble. Or hell, maybe I just like watching them shiver and cry.
I creaked the door slowly open. Instantly, she tried to twist her head around. She couldn’t see me of course. All she could see was my shadow, falling over her.
I just stood there for several moments. I enjoyed the way my dark shadow fell across her white skin. As if my shadow alone was claiming ownership over her body. I enjoyed the way she writhed back and forth in terror at the mere sight of my shadow. I guess I’ve always been a poet at heart.
Her body was stiff; ever inch of her naked flesh, attentive to me, trying to figure out what I was going to do to her today. As if there was anything she could do. Sometimes I just open the door and stand here, and then I close it and walk away. Just to fuck with her head. Not today though. Full story at 3D Interracial
I took a step inside and she burst out crying. I was instantly hard. I had so much power! Such total control over this hot little piece of ass! Was it really just last week that she was some cock-teasing little college freshman? I remember the smug look on her face as she walked past all the guys who drooled just to look at her. She used to think she such a big deal. Look at her now, afraid of my shadow.
The rules of the Emperor’s harem were based on pain and pleasure. They were implacable. Every so often the mature women were purged. This was done by a series of harem regeneration tests known as the “Maturalias”. The oldest women, all of them over 40 years old, were subjected to severe tests to establish if they were still worth a place in the harem. In these tests they had to show their worth as the Emperor’s concubine in tests of pain resistance, sexual skills and ability to withstand severe penetration.
Those who failed the tests were condemned to spending the rest of their days in much-feared confinement centers, or were made to participate in the Pain Festival. In this festival the Emperor’s concubines were submitted to the cruelest punishments purely to satisfy the whims of the Great Master of the Empire, as the Emperor now called himself. Those who were able to withstand all kinds of humiliating abuse were allowed to stay in the harem.
The Pain Festival is the high point of the Maturalias. Pain is administered in a special arena known as the Painkorror. It is full of the most blood-chilling instruments of torture. Most of the spectators are the cruel inhabitants of the Black Planet, who sit on the terraces drooling over the horrendous torture sessions. The Emperor Helmekios sits on his sacred throne, surrounded by female slaves who have passed the tests and who are allowed to serve him with their glistening naked bodies.
Jennifer didn’t know that Mark was married, if only she’d known. He was so rich and handsome, he bought her all kinds of gifts, and his cock felt so good inside her. Then Mark’s wife found them together…
“So my husband says you wouldn’t let him fuck you up your ass. What, are you too good to let him fuck that pretty little ass?” That’s what she had asked as she was shoving the splintery wooden dildo up Jennifer’s ass, forcing her delicate sphincter to stretch further and further over the brutal wooden tip.
“I know what you’re thinking.” She said. “You thought Mark loved you, that he would protect you forever. Well unfortunately for you the only thing Mark has got going for him is a huge cock, which is the only reason I keep his stupid ass around. I make the money in the family, he just mooches off me like a fucking parasite. Of course I also get the added pleasure of torturing his girlfriends every time he fucks up, so you know it’s really not such a bad marriage. And like I said, that cock. It really is amazing isn’t it? I bet it got you all hot, huh? Well now I’m going to get you even hotter.”
His warehouses were run in strict military fashion. The slaves and their guards were controlled carefully. Sexual impulses were not allowed and were punished very severely if they occurred. Those slaves that he selected for pleasure rather than work were placed in the care of Mistress Adia, a famous whore who passed on her long experience in pleasing men…
Decius Portius imposed the same strict discipline on himself. He treated the slaves like commercial goods, even when he was conducting a physical examination of a new slave. He ordered each girl to strip naked, and then he ran his hands all over her body, pressing her buttocks and breasts, lifting them to judge their weight and firmness, and sticking his finger up their anuses and into their vaginas. He tested the slaves’ sensitivity by licking their nipples and blowing on them, and by feeling their clitorises and examining their cunt lips to see how quickly they were lubricating and opening. He especially valued a prominent clitoris that stuck out from its protective hood because it meant that the girl was very sensitive…
Unlike all the other slave traders, he never had sex with a slave himself. He used the information from his physical examinations only to put the girls into the right categories.
The cum dribbling from her ass and pussy sizzled and evaporated as it dripped down towards the blazing brazier between Tiffany’s legs. The pair of psychos had just finished double teaming her, her holes still aching from their brutal rhythmic fucking. Now they were content to watch her squirm and squeal as heat from the brazier cooked the girl’s raw, dripping flesh.
“Woooohhheeee! Look at her twitch and dance!”
“Yeah, look at those pussy lips, they’re lathered in sweat and jiggling like jello! HAHAH!”
What was wrong with these maniacs, why were they doing this!?
“PLEASE! NOT AGAIN!” Maddy shrieked as the man began dragging her into the ‘playroom’, as her captor called it. He’d grabbed her three days ago when she’d been working the late night shift at the barista stand. He just kicked in the door, threw her in the trunk and drove off. It’d been three days and no one had found her yet! Where was everyone!?
“No, oh God please, no!” Maddy sobbed as he began binding her hands and legs, “Please, I’ll be good. I’ll fuck you good, please. Let me suck your cock, anything!”
“Now now, you know how I love to play our favorite game…” The man said, gently rubbing the flogger against her sore swollen tits.
“Pleeeeaassseeee…”
Rebecca tried to tell herself it was all a bad dream. That soon she would wake up in her comfortable bed, in her fancy apartment. But she knew that wasn’t true. The truth was her old life was over. She was no longer Rebecca Warren, successful New York lawyer. She was just Specimen 12, fucktoy to a bunch of horny alien monsters. This was her life now, and there was nothing at all she could do about it.
Twenty year-old Irene had always been a nice, decent girl. The kind of girl who obeyed her parents every wish and volunteered to help those in need. Just the kind of innocent young thing that the Penance club was most interested in. Irene was fated to pay penance for having such a good stable life and also pay for being such an innocent in a world in which most of it’s inhabitants are selfish or evil or both.
Irene’s protests against her treatment served only to make things harder on her; the Penance women enjoyed hurting her and making her accept her place. But those experienced ladies knew that pain and suffering weren’t enough to overcome Irene’s learned and innate innocence; only when she was subjected to repeated and nonstop humiliation and realized the hopelessness of her situation would she be ready to begin her new life as a whore.
For the next phase of Irene’s training, Wilbur had been chosen to help prepare her. Wilbur. Short, dumpy, doughy and dim-witted Wilbur. Wilbur drooled and couldn’t carry on a decent conversation, but Wilbur had a fat, ten-inch cock and a set of low-hanging balls that seemed to churn up an almost endless supply of thick cum that made him a terrifying late-night visitor to any slavegirl’s cell. And even more of a horror to Irene when she was given to him to share his cell and serve as his steady girlfriend.
We advise you to treat Wilbur well, they told Irene. He gets frustrated easily and can get very unpleasant if he doesn’t get everything he wants from a girl. That’s why he was in that asylum for the criminally insane where we found him.
Irene could only tremble fearfully that night when Wilbur came back to his cell to meet his own personal girl. “Wilbur hurt you,” the slug-like man muttered, drooling. “Then Wilbur fuck you.”
“No! No, Wilbur! You don’t need to hurt me,” Irene pleaded. She desperately laid down on the stained mattress and spread her legs.
“What are you doing!? Tom, please! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Mary cried.
Tom had flipped her onto her belly and, digging his knee into her lower back, wrenched her arms behind her back and began binding her wrists with thick rope.
“You’re gonna fucking learn! You don’t fuck with me by fucking other men! I’m gonna take you someplace where you’ll learn to become a proper fucking wife!” Tom said, slapping some duct tape around her eyes.
“Please, Tom, you’re scaring me! Just divorce me! Please, I won’t contest anything! I swear!”
“Shut the fuck up, you dumb cunt, I’m tired of listening to your fucking whining!” Tom said, covering her mouth with more duct tape. “Now get up and let’s go.”