Kansai Lai
March 4th, 2009, 12:30 PM
These stories are kinda violent, the first involving vore while the second has self-mutilation. You have been warned.
A Serpent's Greed
He holds an object in his slender hands. Thick coils of emerald scales rest amongst pillows and silks. His is a life of comfort with little need. But he wants much. The object in his hands is a head. Tenderly he brushes the sandy locks from the face. There are no eyes within to look back at him. He had plucked them out just last night like grapes. But they were sweeter than any fruit in this world or the next. He decided that when he dies, he will feast on nothing but eyes for all of eternity. Blue, green, gold, he will suckle and bite upon them all. He kisses the cold lips. There is still hint of the boy's breath upon them. After all, he had expelled such a rush of air in his last moment of life. He hates making his toys depart so quietly. The noises they make excite him. The very tip of his tail is cold and twitching as he remembers. The mouse had been sleeping and he was hungry. Gently, he had taken hold of the boy's head. Soft eyes fluttered as he stirred. It had taken only one twist for the bones to snap and the head turned fully around. How beautiful he had been, even in that moment of grotesquery. Like the stem of an apple he continued to twist it, making a wish with every turn until the skin split and the neck opened up. His wish did not come true, but his hunger was satiated as the body with engulfed, sliding down his wide throat. The taste was deep, full of earth and fire. It tasted of dreams and despair, of future love and past failures. But most importantly, the taste was now and that was what he cared for most. Now. Now the head was all that remained, the tangled fur dangling beneath. He nibbles upon the strips lining his torn neck, his thin tongue slipping through the poor dead boy's windpipe, just for another taste of his breath. His name is Mauro and he cares little for you, save for what you have to give him.
Vial Heart
He ate his heart once on a dare. He had complained long and often about the incessant beating, how it kept him up day and night and prevented him from hunting. It was loud and it was painful and the rhythm constantly changed. So tired were his companions, they challenged him. He had to make the beating stop and thus end his complaints. Should he fail and the beating persist, they would sew his mouth shut with his own silk. To give him strength and resistance, comrades held five of his arms, leaving only one to do the job. Braced and ready, they withstood his screams as his stout fingers tried to pry through his chest. But his ribs proved too tight and close to get his fingers through, let alone his still beating heart which pounded loudly now in his ears. "Dumbass!" one shouted at him, watching to be sure he did it right. His faced was splattered with blood, leaving stains which would last days. "Fastest way to the heart is through the stomach." His face went scarlet with shame and embarrassment. Five holes now in his left breast, he slipped his hand to his abdomen. He pushed at the hard skin until at last it gave. Crimson life poured down his front and between his legs like piss. Fingers brushed past a lung until he found the thump-thump. Gripping it tightly, he pulled until all could see what caused him so much pain. And still it lived. Furious with its intent to torment him still, he brought the chunk to his teeth and bit. It was stringy and hot, stream rushing past his lips. Even today, he swears he can still feel pieces of the curse between his teeth. His comrades did not release him until the heart was devoured and gone, for it continued to beat still until it existed no more. No longer does he complain about the beating. He sits in his silken webs, a true silent predator. His name is Vial and his prey never hears him coming
Did you like them? There's more on my FA account: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/zashimaru/
A Serpent's Greed
He holds an object in his slender hands. Thick coils of emerald scales rest amongst pillows and silks. His is a life of comfort with little need. But he wants much. The object in his hands is a head. Tenderly he brushes the sandy locks from the face. There are no eyes within to look back at him. He had plucked them out just last night like grapes. But they were sweeter than any fruit in this world or the next. He decided that when he dies, he will feast on nothing but eyes for all of eternity. Blue, green, gold, he will suckle and bite upon them all. He kisses the cold lips. There is still hint of the boy's breath upon them. After all, he had expelled such a rush of air in his last moment of life. He hates making his toys depart so quietly. The noises they make excite him. The very tip of his tail is cold and twitching as he remembers. The mouse had been sleeping and he was hungry. Gently, he had taken hold of the boy's head. Soft eyes fluttered as he stirred. It had taken only one twist for the bones to snap and the head turned fully around. How beautiful he had been, even in that moment of grotesquery. Like the stem of an apple he continued to twist it, making a wish with every turn until the skin split and the neck opened up. His wish did not come true, but his hunger was satiated as the body with engulfed, sliding down his wide throat. The taste was deep, full of earth and fire. It tasted of dreams and despair, of future love and past failures. But most importantly, the taste was now and that was what he cared for most. Now. Now the head was all that remained, the tangled fur dangling beneath. He nibbles upon the strips lining his torn neck, his thin tongue slipping through the poor dead boy's windpipe, just for another taste of his breath. His name is Mauro and he cares little for you, save for what you have to give him.
Vial Heart
He ate his heart once on a dare. He had complained long and often about the incessant beating, how it kept him up day and night and prevented him from hunting. It was loud and it was painful and the rhythm constantly changed. So tired were his companions, they challenged him. He had to make the beating stop and thus end his complaints. Should he fail and the beating persist, they would sew his mouth shut with his own silk. To give him strength and resistance, comrades held five of his arms, leaving only one to do the job. Braced and ready, they withstood his screams as his stout fingers tried to pry through his chest. But his ribs proved too tight and close to get his fingers through, let alone his still beating heart which pounded loudly now in his ears. "Dumbass!" one shouted at him, watching to be sure he did it right. His faced was splattered with blood, leaving stains which would last days. "Fastest way to the heart is through the stomach." His face went scarlet with shame and embarrassment. Five holes now in his left breast, he slipped his hand to his abdomen. He pushed at the hard skin until at last it gave. Crimson life poured down his front and between his legs like piss. Fingers brushed past a lung until he found the thump-thump. Gripping it tightly, he pulled until all could see what caused him so much pain. And still it lived. Furious with its intent to torment him still, he brought the chunk to his teeth and bit. It was stringy and hot, stream rushing past his lips. Even today, he swears he can still feel pieces of the curse between his teeth. His comrades did not release him until the heart was devoured and gone, for it continued to beat still until it existed no more. No longer does he complain about the beating. He sits in his silken webs, a true silent predator. His name is Vial and his prey never hears him coming
Did you like them? There's more on my FA account: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/zashimaru/