Deathstalker

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Reputation: Posts: 2,611Threads: 228Joined: Jan 2011Reputation: 45 #1 CosplayBabes vs. The Legions of the Undead By Deathstalker

Chapter One: Hermoine Granger



The sprawling city had been a bustling hive of vibrant life once upon a time. That all ended with a single snap of the Omni’s fingers. Over eight million people died in an instant. In another instant, a vast majority of them came back, possessed by an ancient evil. All memories of their former lives vanished, replaced by the primal urges to feed and mate. The Omni looked upon the newly formed Necropolis and smiled, knowing it would make a perfect arena for countless playthings to amuse him. As the hordes of living dead shuffled their way through the city’s streets, eagerly seeking out anything they might be able to fuck or feed on, the Omni turned its attention away from its playground and focused on the limitless choice of potential toys to be broken and devoured for its amusement.



The sheer number of options would have left a lesser being reeling with nausea, but the Omni craved the freedom of ultimate power. It had long ago learned to let its mind wander aimlessly, operating largely on whims and instincts instead of conscious choice. The Omni’s choice may not have been truly random, but it might as well have been. A swirling mass of a million different forms formed within its consciousness, gradually filtering down to a single entity. She was young, but possessed an impressive intelligence. The magical blood flowing through her veins gave her strength enough to not be utterly helpless against the Legions of the Undead. The Omni learned every detail of Hermoine Granger’s life in a single instant. And in another instant, it plucked the young woman out of her reality and dumped her into the Necropolis.



***



Hermoine’s brow furrowed as she looked out onto the hellish landscape before her. Her gut stirred with unease both from the sudden teleportation and the distinct stench of rotten meat. Her thoughts immediately turned to Voldemort. It had been nearly a year since the dark wizard had been vanquished once and for all, but he still haunted Hermoine’s dreams. It would explain the sudden, unnatural abduction, but the venue felt more like a nightmare than reality. Even at a glance, she could tell the city she’d appeared in was huge and sprawling, but there were no signs of life. No activity on the streets. Everything about the area felt wrong. Sliding her wand free, the young witch darted into an alleyway to avoid being seen, desperately needing a moment to gather her bearings and try to figure out what had happened.



The first thing to strike Hermoine as she entered the alley was the stench. She’d noticed it out on the street, but it was so much worse in the closed in space. Rancid, putrid meat left out to rot mixed with something else. Hermoine’s brilliant mind had no trouble linking it to the lingering aroma left in the air in the wake of her and Ron making love, but she desperately did not want to accept the disturbing connection. In her shocked disorientation, it took a moment for her to notice the soft guttural yet feminine grunting coming from deeper in the alleyway. Wet, fleshy slapping accompanied the grunts. As much as Hermoine did not want to interrupt the act she was so certain was taking place just behind the nearby dumpster, she needed to find out where she was. She moved towards the sound of passionate rutting, clutching her wand tightly in her hand, feeling equal parts embarrassment, worry, and disgust.



Hermoine stopped short as her eyes full upon the couple working out their physical urges in the alley. The scene looked fundamentally wrong. The woman – lying on the ground with her legs splayed wide – appeared to be wearing what had once been a nurse’s uniform. The front of it had been ripped open, allowing her full breasts to spill free. The pliant flesh – dirty and discolored – jiggled with each thrust the man gave his lover. The man’s clothing was in just as much disarray, but it looked like the traditional garb of a priest. The bizarre pairing was only the first thing to strike Hermoine as wrong. Their skin was a greyish-green color, dry and cracked in some places and gooey and oozing in others. She caught the woman’s eyes and saw a milky haze over them. The stench of death and decay wafted off of them in heavy waves, forcing the young witch to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from puking.



Knowing with utter certainty that she would get no help from the couple, Hermoine stumbled back from them towards the opening of the alley. She let out a sharp shriek as her back connected with something solid and spun around. A more distinct scream passed her lips as she found herself looking up into the half-rotten face of another of the living corpses. Wiggling maggots dribbled from the thing’s sunken nostrils. The dead man showed her his yellowed teeth as he grinned down at her and lunged forward. Hermoine brought her wand up instinctively and pressed the tip of it against his skinny chest, muttering a magical word that sent the zombie shooting away from her. The corpse’s compromised physical stability caused his spine to shatter as it connected with a nearby lamp post, sending him crumbling to the ground. The man didn’t seem to mind the paralyzing damage, stretching his arms out in front of him to crawl his way back towards the young witch.



Hermoine ran. As far as plans went, she knew it wasn’t a good one. The disturbing reality she’d been transported to helped to prove that point as another of the undead creatures sprang out of a shadowy corner beside her. She tried to twist away from it, but only managed to get her feet tangled together. “No!” she screamed as she fell, wide eyes fixed on the lecherous gaze of the zombie reaching for her. Air rushed from her lungs as her back it the hard ground. The clatter of her wand skittering across the cement rang in her ears. She turned towards her lost wand, knowing it was the only weapon she had against the unnatural monsters. Rolling onto her side, she stretched her arm towards her salvation, curling her fingers to regain her grip on it.



Hermoine’s fingers lightly brushed against the vine wood before a pair of rough hands clamped down on her slender hips. She shrieked as the hands yanked her away from the wand, tears stinging her eyes as she twisted her head around to look up at the zombie looming over her. The thing slipped his fingers into the waistband of her skirt and yanked downwards roughly. The skirt slid over her perky rear, exposing her white cotton panties, before bunching up around her knees. The zombie dropped onto the backs of Hermoine’s legs, keeping her effectively pinned as he brought one hand down to the crotch of his soiled pants. He clawed at the fabric until the button popped open and the zipper crept down. Hermoine’s sobs intensified as her eyes bulged with sickened horror, watching as the dead man’s throbbing member sprang free of his pants.



The zombie ripped through the seat of the young witch’s panties, exposing the smooth, flawless flesh of her buttocks to the cold light of the streetlamp overhead. Hermoine squirmed and flailed as best she could, trying to get out from under the monster before he did what he so clearly wanted to. The frigid, hard slab of cock-meat slid against her warm flesh as the zombie scooted over her, taking up position atop her. His hands came down on her shoulders, shoving Hermoine against the ground and further pinning her as his hips began to lightly grind against her. Hermoine stretched her left arm out towards her wand, straining her fingers and nearly popping her shoulder out of its socket in an attempt to reach far enough to save herself from the macabre assault.



After a few humps, the tip of the zombie’s cock mashed against the dry lips of Hermoine’s cunt. The heat of her sex against the coldness of his dead dick contrasted greatly and told the zombie he had found his target. Tightening his grip on the girl’s shoulders, the dead man slammed his hips forward. Hermoine screamed through clenched teeth, fresh tears gushing from her bulging eyes as she felt several stiff inches of zombie cock slam into her unwilling sex. Her clever mind had no trouble determining that the undead monster violating her was significantly larger – both in length and girth – than Ron. It was yet another comparison she desperately wished she hadn’t made. The pain radiating up from her crotch wasn’t quite the distraction she wanted from her analytical mind, but it was the only thing she had. Her left hand continued to slap at the ground, fingernails scrapping against the rough cement as the zombie’s thrusts picked up speed, urgently hoping she could somehow reach her wand and save herself.



The pleasure of Hermoine’s tight snatch clinging to his prick like a second skin was exactly the sort of stimulation the undead man had been searching for since he’d been returned to his shell of un-life. Her warm flesh felt like a drug to him, encouraging him to ravage her – first sexually and then in other ways. But the young woman’s single flailing arm managed to stir his attention, despite his muddied yet focused instincts. The zombie’s hips continued to pump away at the girl, feeling her gripping hole slowly slicken as her body responded to his rough penetration, but his eyes roamed up the length of Hermoine’s arm to the tips of her fingers and beyond, spotting a slender length of wood just over ten inches in length. The zombie tilted his head, perplexed by the object. He had no way to comprehend what it was or what it could do, but the young witch’s interest in it stirred the last vestiges of his survival instincts. If his prey desired the object, he needed to ensure she could not obtain it.



Hermoine let out a pathetic wail as the undead monster raping her from behind leaned across her. She shook her head, blinking the tears from her eyes and letting out fresh sobs as she watched with sinking dread as the creature used his greater arm length to reach past her outstretched hand and scoop up her wand. “No, please,” she whimpered. “Give it back!” She cried out as the zombie cock speared into her again, rubbing against her aching inner cunt walls. Her hope of escaping faded, leaving behind the terrible near certainty that she most likely would never discover who or what had transporter her to the hellish city. That she would never see Ron or Harry or any of her other friends again. That the remainder of her life would be as a rape-puppet for the grotesque monstrosities inhabiting the city. The innocent young witch – as clever as she was – could not comprehend the true horror that awaited her.



The zombie continued to pump his prick into Hermoine’s pussy, examining the wand with dull, milky eyes. His curiosity led to him not pinning the witch quite as effectively. She managed to lift her upper body and twist to the side, making a frantic grab for her wand. Her fingers came within an inch of her target, but the zombie instinctively yanked its newly discovered toy away from his slightly not-so-new toy. The undead man’s annoyance grew as the girl kept trying to grab the wand. Unable to figure out what was so important about the slender length of hard wood, he let out an angry snarl and decided to return it to her.



The zombie dropped one hand down on top of Hermoine’s head, digging his fingers into her scalp firmly. The girl continued to writhe and flail beneath him, jerking her arms back to grab at her wand. The zombie growled with annoyance, forced to slow his thrusts as he shifted the limited resources of his putrid brain towards doing something beyond plundering the depths of the young witch’s lightly pulsing cunt. He brought the thin tip of Hermoine’s wand down to her head, managing to slip it into the canal of her ear. Hermoine’s struggles faltered as she felt the wand touching against the side of her head. She didn’t know what the creature was doing, but she refused to believe the horrible monstrosity actually possessed any form of magical ability. She was right, but the zombie hardly needed magical powers or the knowledge of spells to use the wand against its owner.



With a heavy grunt, the living corpse shoved Hermoine’s wand into and through her earhole. The young woman’s eyes widened with sudden horror, realizing what the creature was going to do to her a fraction of a second before her eardrum ruptured. She let out a sharp scream that abruptly transformed into dulled groan. Hermoine Granger’s trusty wand skewered her brilliant brain, transforming her into nearly as much of a brainless dullard as the dead man fucking her from behind. The wand was more than long enough to impale Hermoine’s head, the base of it extending from her right ear while the bloody tip emerged from her left. The girl’s mouth dropped slack, eyelids drooping as muscle spasms crept across her face. Her arms flopped back to the ground. As the zombie picked up the speed of his thrusts again, she released an awkward moan. The zombie fucking Hermoine from behind took hold of either end of the girl’s wand, using it for leverage as he hammered into her snatch, finding the penetration further eased as her bladder drained.



The zombie priest – having left the undead nurse with a cunt packed full of his jizz – shambled out of the alleyway, drawn by the source of the commotion he’d heard. His dull eyes fell upon Hermoine’s slackened face – still alive, but brutally brain damaged. Even more alluring was her mouth, hanging open, grunting, groaning, and letting out the occasional little squeak. The zombie’s cock – in a state of perpetual half-stiffness – twitched and rose back to full attention as he moved towards the doomed young witch. He guided the bulbous tip of his erection to her gaping mouth and pushed into the warm dampness, feeling her slightly twitching tongue wiggle against the underside of his dick. The zombie priest took over holding onto the ends of Hermoine’s wand, yanking on the thin piece of vine wood to pull her face against his crotch.



The pair of zombies enjoyed double-teaming the twitching teenager between them, ravaging her holes. Hermoine remained trapped, both physically and mentally. Her skewered mind occasionally managed to work well enough to deliver a shocking dose of reality upon her, but for the most part, she was left in a near vegetative state, drooling around her mouthful of zombie cock-meat and lightly grinding her perky butt against the dead man behind her. Blood dribbled freely from her ears and oozed from her nostrils as her eyes lazily swayed and crossed. The young woman’s bright future was a thing of the past now that she’d been transformed into a husk nearly as mindless as the things raping her.



As the zombie priest neared his climax, he yanked harder on the two sides of Hermoine’s wand. Tears dampened the girl’s flushed cheeks as she reflexively gagged around the rancid prick plugging her throat. She managed to get a brief taste of the undead spunk as it blasted across the back of her tongue. The zombie priest groaned loudly, tightening his grip on the wand and giving it one last yank. The thin wood could take no more. It snapped in half, severing the dragon heartstring within it and unleashing the magic infused within it. In an open environment, there would have been impressive bit of fireworks. Trapped within Hermoine’s brain, the result was a good deal more graphic. The girl’s head seamed to expand outwards like a balloon being inflated. Her features took on an almost comical exaggeration as the soft creaks and strain of her bone and skin crept out of her. Hermoine’s eyes bulged, tears staining red as heavier globs of blood sneezed from her nostrils and ears. And then – roughly half a second after the wand snapped – Hermoine’s head exploded.



The zombie priest stumbled back, the upper half of his cock ripped away, and landed hard on his ass. The remaining stump continued to pump bloody cum out onto the street. Hermoine’s headless corpse slumped forward, the zombie behind her hammering into her sweet young snatch harder until he shot his own load deep into her convulsing cunt. Death spams rocked through the young witch, causing her arms and legs to flop about wildly for nearly a minute before starting to fade off. The zombie priest – seemingly unbothered by the loss of most of his dick – leaned forward to scoop up a few chunks of Hermoine’s steaming, half-scorched brain matter and shoveled it into his waiting mouth. The rest of her young flesh would soon be devoured as well, leaving behind little more than a few broken bones and bloody smears to signal the remains of the Necropolis’s first unfortunate visitor. The sprawling city had been a bustling hive of vibrant life once upon a time. That all ended with a single snap of the Omni’s fingers. Over eight million people died in an instant. In another instant, a vast majority of them came back, possessed by an ancient evil. All memories of their former lives vanished, replaced by the primal urges to feed and mate. The Omni looked upon the newly formed Necropolis and smiled, knowing it would make a perfect arena for countless playthings to amuse him. As the hordes of living dead shuffled their way through the city’s streets, eagerly seeking out anything they might be able to fuck or feed on, the Omni turned its attention away from its playground and focused on the limitless choice of potential toys to be broken and devoured for its amusement.The sheer number of options would have left a lesser being reeling with nausea, but the Omni craved the freedom of ultimate power. It had long ago learned to let its mind wander aimlessly, operating largely on whims and instincts instead of conscious choice. The Omni’s choice may not have been truly random, but it might as well have been. A swirling mass of a million different forms formed within its consciousness, gradually filtering down to a single entity. She was young, but possessed an impressive intelligence. The magical blood flowing through her veins gave her strength enough to not be utterly helpless against the Legions of the Undead. The Omni learned every detail of Hermoine Granger’s life in a single instant. And in another instant, it plucked the young woman out of her reality and dumped her into the Necropolis.***Hermoine’s brow furrowed as she looked out onto the hellish landscape before her. Her gut stirred with unease both from the sudden teleportation and the distinct stench of rotten meat. Her thoughts immediately turned to Voldemort. It had been nearly a year since the dark wizard had been vanquished once and for all, but he still haunted Hermoine’s dreams. It would explain the sudden, unnatural abduction, but the venue felt more like a nightmare than reality. Even at a glance, she could tell the city she’d appeared in was huge and sprawling, but there were no signs of life. No activity on the streets. Everything about the area felt wrong. Sliding her wand free, the young witch darted into an alleyway to avoid being seen, desperately needing a moment to gather her bearings and try to figure out what had happened.The first thing to strike Hermoine as she entered the alley was the stench. She’d noticed it out on the street, but it was so much worse in the closed in space. Rancid, putrid meat left out to rot mixed with something else. Hermoine’s brilliant mind had no trouble linking it to the lingering aroma left in the air in the wake of her and Ron making love, but she desperately did not want to accept the disturbing connection. In her shocked disorientation, it took a moment for her to notice the soft guttural yet feminine grunting coming from deeper in the alleyway. Wet, fleshy slapping accompanied the grunts. As much as Hermoine did not want to interrupt the act she was so certain was taking place just behind the nearby dumpster, she needed to find out where she was. She moved towards the sound of passionate rutting, clutching her wand tightly in her hand, feeling equal parts embarrassment, worry, and disgust.Hermoine stopped short as her eyes full upon the couple working out their physical urges in the alley. The scene looked fundamentally wrong. The woman – lying on the ground with her legs splayed wide – appeared to be wearing what had once been a nurse’s uniform. The front of it had been ripped open, allowing her full breasts to spill free. The pliant flesh – dirty and discolored – jiggled with each thrust the man gave his lover. The man’s clothing was in just as much disarray, but it looked like the traditional garb of a priest. The bizarre pairing was only the first thing to strike Hermoine as wrong. Their skin was a greyish-green color, dry and cracked in some places and gooey and oozing in others. She caught the woman’s eyes and saw a milky haze over them. The stench of death and decay wafted off of them in heavy waves, forcing the young witch to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from puking.Knowing with utter certainty that she would get no help from the couple, Hermoine stumbled back from them towards the opening of the alley. She let out a sharp shriek as her back connected with something solid and spun around. A more distinct scream passed her lips as she found herself looking up into the half-rotten face of another of the living corpses. Wiggling maggots dribbled from the thing’s sunken nostrils. The dead man showed her his yellowed teeth as he grinned down at her and lunged forward. Hermoine brought her wand up instinctively and pressed the tip of it against his skinny chest, muttering a magical word that sent the zombie shooting away from her. The corpse’s compromised physical stability caused his spine to shatter as it connected with a nearby lamp post, sending him crumbling to the ground. The man didn’t seem to mind the paralyzing damage, stretching his arms out in front of him to crawl his way back towards the young witch.Hermoine ran. As far as plans went, she knew it wasn’t a good one. The disturbing reality she’d been transported to helped to prove that point as another of the undead creatures sprang out of a shadowy corner beside her. She tried to twist away from it, but only managed to get her feet tangled together. “No!” she screamed as she fell, wide eyes fixed on the lecherous gaze of the zombie reaching for her. Air rushed from her lungs as her back it the hard ground. The clatter of her wand skittering across the cement rang in her ears. She turned towards her lost wand, knowing it was the only weapon she had against the unnatural monsters. Rolling onto her side, she stretched her arm towards her salvation, curling her fingers to regain her grip on it.Hermoine’s fingers lightly brushed against the vine wood before a pair of rough hands clamped down on her slender hips. She shrieked as the hands yanked her away from the wand, tears stinging her eyes as she twisted her head around to look up at the zombie looming over her. The thing slipped his fingers into the waistband of her skirt and yanked downwards roughly. The skirt slid over her perky rear, exposing her white cotton panties, before bunching up around her knees. The zombie dropped onto the backs of Hermoine’s legs, keeping her effectively pinned as he brought one hand down to the crotch of his soiled pants. He clawed at the fabric until the button popped open and the zipper crept down. Hermoine’s sobs intensified as her eyes bulged with sickened horror, watching as the dead man’s throbbing member sprang free of his pants.The zombie ripped through the seat of the young witch’s panties, exposing the smooth, flawless flesh of her buttocks to the cold light of the streetlamp overhead. Hermoine squirmed and flailed as best she could, trying to get out from under the monster before he did what he so clearly wanted to. The frigid, hard slab of cock-meat slid against her warm flesh as the zombie scooted over her, taking up position atop her. His hands came down on her shoulders, shoving Hermoine against the ground and further pinning her as his hips began to lightly grind against her. Hermoine stretched her left arm out towards her wand, straining her fingers and nearly popping her shoulder out of its socket in an attempt to reach far enough to save herself from the macabre assault.After a few humps, the tip of the zombie’s cock mashed against the dry lips of Hermoine’s cunt. The heat of her sex against the coldness of his dead dick contrasted greatly and told the zombie he had found his target. Tightening his grip on the girl’s shoulders, the dead man slammed his hips forward. Hermoine screamed through clenched teeth, fresh tears gushing from her bulging eyes as she felt several stiff inches of zombie cock slam into her unwilling sex. Her clever mind had no trouble determining that the undead monster violating her was significantly larger – both in length and girth – than Ron. It was yet another comparison she desperately wished she hadn’t made. The pain radiating up from her crotch wasn’t quite the distraction she wanted from her analytical mind, but it was the only thing she had. Her left hand continued to slap at the ground, fingernails scrapping against the rough cement as the zombie’s thrusts picked up speed, urgently hoping she could somehow reach her wand and save herself.The pleasure of Hermoine’s tight snatch clinging to his prick like a second skin was exactly the sort of stimulation the undead man had been searching for since he’d been returned to his shell of un-life. Her warm flesh felt like a drug to him, encouraging him to ravage her – first sexually and then in other ways. But the young woman’s single flailing arm managed to stir his attention, despite his muddied yet focused instincts. The zombie’s hips continued to pump away at the girl, feeling her gripping hole slowly slicken as her body responded to his rough penetration, but his eyes roamed up the length of Hermoine’s arm to the tips of her fingers and beyond, spotting a slender length of wood just over ten inches in length. The zombie tilted his head, perplexed by the object. He had no way to comprehend what it was or what it could do, but the young witch’s interest in it stirred the last vestiges of his survival instincts. If his prey desired the object, he needed to ensure she could not obtain it.Hermoine let out a pathetic wail as the undead monster raping her from behind leaned across her. She shook her head, blinking the tears from her eyes and letting out fresh sobs as she watched with sinking dread as the creature used his greater arm length to reach past her outstretched hand and scoop up her wand. “No, please,” she whimpered. “Give it back!” She cried out as the zombie cock speared into her again, rubbing against her aching inner cunt walls. Her hope of escaping faded, leaving behind the terrible near certainty that she most likely would never discover who or what had transporter her to the hellish city. That she would never see Ron or Harry or any of her other friends again. That the remainder of her life would be as a rape-puppet for the grotesque monstrosities inhabiting the city. The innocent young witch – as clever as she was – could not comprehend the true horror that awaited her.The zombie continued to pump his prick into Hermoine’s pussy, examining the wand with dull, milky eyes. His curiosity led to him not pinning the witch quite as effectively. She managed to lift her upper body and twist to the side, making a frantic grab for her wand. Her fingers came within an inch of her target, but the zombie instinctively yanked its newly discovered toy away from his slightly not-so-new toy. The undead man’s annoyance grew as the girl kept trying to grab the wand. Unable to figure out what was so important about the slender length of hard wood, he let out an angry snarl and decided to return it to her.The zombie dropped one hand down on top of Hermoine’s head, digging his fingers into her scalp firmly. The girl continued to writhe and flail beneath him, jerking her arms back to grab at her wand. The zombie growled with annoyance, forced to slow his thrusts as he shifted the limited resources of his putrid brain towards doing something beyond plundering the depths of the young witch’s lightly pulsing cunt. He brought the thin tip of Hermoine’s wand down to her head, managing to slip it into the canal of her ear. Hermoine’s struggles faltered as she felt the wand touching against the side of her head. She didn’t know what the creature was doing, but she refused to believe the horrible monstrosity actually possessed any form of magical ability. She was right, but the zombie hardly needed magical powers or the knowledge of spells to use the wand against its owner.With a heavy grunt, the living corpse shoved Hermoine’s wand into and through her earhole. The young woman’s eyes widened with sudden horror, realizing what the creature was going to do to her a fraction of a second before her eardrum ruptured. She let out a sharp scream that abruptly transformed into dulled groan. Hermoine Granger’s trusty wand skewered her brilliant brain, transforming her into nearly as much of a brainless dullard as the dead man fucking her from behind. The wand was more than long enough to impale Hermoine’s head, the base of it extending from her right ear while the bloody tip emerged from her left. The girl’s mouth dropped slack, eyelids drooping as muscle spasms crept across her face. Her arms flopped back to the ground. As the zombie picked up the speed of his thrusts again, she released an awkward moan. The zombie fucking Hermoine from behind took hold of either end of the girl’s wand, using it for leverage as he hammered into her snatch, finding the penetration further eased as her bladder drained.The zombie priest – having left the undead nurse with a cunt packed full of his jizz – shambled out of the alleyway, drawn by the source of the commotion he’d heard. His dull eyes fell upon Hermoine’s slackened face – still alive, but brutally brain damaged. Even more alluring was her mouth, hanging open, grunting, groaning, and letting out the occasional little squeak. The zombie’s cock – in a state of perpetual half-stiffness – twitched and rose back to full attention as he moved towards the doomed young witch. He guided the bulbous tip of his erection to her gaping mouth and pushed into the warm dampness, feeling her slightly twitching tongue wiggle against the underside of his dick. The zombie priest took over holding onto the ends of Hermoine’s wand, yanking on the thin piece of vine wood to pull her face against his crotch.The pair of zombies enjoyed double-teaming the twitching teenager between them, ravaging her holes. Hermoine remained trapped, both physically and mentally. Her skewered mind occasionally managed to work well enough to deliver a shocking dose of reality upon her, but for the most part, she was left in a near vegetative state, drooling around her mouthful of zombie cock-meat and lightly grinding her perky butt against the dead man behind her. Blood dribbled freely from her ears and oozed from her nostrils as her eyes lazily swayed and crossed. The young woman’s bright future was a thing of the past now that she’d been transformed into a husk nearly as mindless as the things raping her.As the zombie priest neared his climax, he yanked harder on the two sides of Hermoine’s wand. Tears dampened the girl’s flushed cheeks as she reflexively gagged around the rancid prick plugging her throat. She managed to get a brief taste of the undead spunk as it blasted across the back of her tongue. The zombie priest groaned loudly, tightening his grip on the wand and giving it one last yank. The thin wood could take no more. It snapped in half, severing the dragon heartstring within it and unleashing the magic infused within it. In an open environment, there would have been impressive bit of fireworks. Trapped within Hermoine’s brain, the result was a good deal more graphic. The girl’s head seamed to expand outwards like a balloon being inflated. Her features took on an almost comical exaggeration as the soft creaks and strain of her bone and skin crept out of her. Hermoine’s eyes bulged, tears staining red as heavier globs of blood sneezed from her nostrils and ears. And then – roughly half a second after the wand snapped – Hermoine’s head exploded.The zombie priest stumbled back, the upper half of his cock ripped away, and landed hard on his ass. The remaining stump continued to pump bloody cum out onto the street. Hermoine’s headless corpse slumped forward, the zombie behind her hammering into her sweet young snatch harder until he shot his own load deep into her convulsing cunt. Death spams rocked through the young witch, causing her arms and legs to flop about wildly for nearly a minute before starting to fade off. The zombie priest – seemingly unbothered by the loss of most of his dick – leaned forward to scoop up a few chunks of Hermoine’s steaming, half-scorched brain matter and shoveled it into his waiting mouth. The rest of her young flesh would soon be devoured as well, leaving behind little more than a few broken bones and bloody smears to signal the remains of the Necropolis’s first unfortunate visitor.



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Reputation: Posts: 2,611Threads: 228Joined: Jan 2011Reputation: 45 #3 Chapter Two: Widowmaker



The tingle of anticipatory pleasure was all too familiar to Widowmaker. She felt it every time she lined up a shot and prepared to take another life. If she allowed herself to examine the feeling, she knew the pleasure was tinged with a deeper emotion: self-loathing. That feeling came from the last lingering vestiges of her former life. Widowmaker wished she could expunge the thoughts and memories of Amélie Lacroix once and for all, but she settled for satisfying herself with her unparalleled skill. “Goodnight, sweet princess,” she muttered in French as she led her shot on the young woman darting from one piece of cover to the next. The young woman thought the cover would save her life. Widowmaker knew otherwise. Breathing easily, the blue-skinned assassin rested her finger on her rifle’s trigger and slowly squeezed.



Widowmaker’s intended target would never know just how lucky she got. If the Omni had yanked the cold-blooded sniper away even a fraction of a second later, it would have been all over for her. Instead, Widowmaker’s tingle of impending pleasure shifted to one of brief but all-consuming pain as she was ripped out of her world and dumped into the perilous territory of the Necropolis. The sudden teleportation came as a surprise to the woman, but her significantly impaired emotions kept her from panicking. Being in the middle of a street uneased her more than the unexpected change of venue, her instincts telling her to get high and get cover. Her long legs carried her out of the road, leaping up onto the top of a car and drawing her grappling hook. She took aim at the three-story apartment building in front of her and fired, catching the hook against the ledge of the roof and enjoying the rush of air breaking over her body as the grappling hook retracted, pulling her upwards.



The assassin moved with speed and efficiency, clearing the roof and confirming she was alone. With her immediate safety no longer a concern, she turned her attention to figuring out where she’d been taken. The how was a puzzle she didn’t care about too much. Widowmaker had given up asking how and why a long time ago. Moving back to the ledge of the roof, she brought her sniper rifle up to her shoulder and looked through the scope, using the magnifier to help scout out the city. The shambling figures she spotted seemed all kinds of wrong to her. They moved awkwardly and some of them possessed damage that should have been fatal, but it didn’t keep them from continuing to move. She didn’t like the city, but its residents – unarmed and uncoordinated – didn’t seem to be much of a threat.



Still not convinced, Widowmaker activated her Infra-Sight. Her eyebrows narrowed with confusion as she spotted no heat signatures in her surrounding area. She didn’t fully understand it, but she was forced to conclude that she was in no immediate danger. Boredom stirred in her even before her Infra-Sight faded. The city was well and truly dead. She would find no satisfaction from it. Even the thought of picking off a few of the shuffling forms down on the street didn’t seem all that interesting to her. She didn’t see them as enemies and they lacked any ability to give her any challenge. Wasting ammo just to prove how good a shot she was seemed pointless. She already knew.



But just because there was nothing worth killing didn’t mean she couldn’t find other means of keeping herself entertained until she found a way out of the weird town. Hopping onto the ledge of the apartment building, she slipped her grappling hook free again and took aim at the office building across the street. It was several stories taller than the apartments, but still well within range of her grapple. Once the hook snagged a firm hold, Widowmaker took a step back before jumping off the side of the apartment building and swinging through the air. The plate glass windows of the office building rushed towards her at a rate that would have been alarming to anyone but her. With smooth perfection, she whipped her rifle up and squeezed off a couple of rounds through the thick glass, reducing its integrity enough to allow her to smash through it and swing her way into the office building with stylish ease.



At least, that had been Widowmaker’s intention.



She smashed through the plate glass window as intended, but her flawless landing was ruined as she collided with a crowd of the city’s listless residents. The overwhelming stench of decay hit her a moment later, causing her to gag. Her stomach lurched again as she found herself staring into the half-rotten face of a balding business manager drooling thick blood and puss down his chin. Widowmaker shoved the man away, not knowing what his problem was and not wanting to find out. She released a sharp scream as she discovered the city’s residents weren’t nearly as harmless as she’d originally suspected. A young secretary who’d been pretty once upon a time had her teeth firmly lodged in her shoulder, drawing blood. The blue-skinned assassin flipped her sniper rifle around and smashed the butt of it into the woman’s gut, forcing her to release her hold and stumble backwards.



Even with her significantly reduced heartrate, the wound on Widowmaker’s shoulder bled profusely. She couldn’t be certain, but the burning she felt seemed unnatural as well. She didn’t have the time to properly examine or tend to her wound. The bite happy bastards had livened up plenty since she’d come crashing into their braindead office party. Turning back towards the shattered window, Widowmaker extended her grappling hook and took aim at the apartment building again. She fired, feeling a small flicker of satisfaction as the hook landed that was obliterated a moment later as the rotting secretary lunged at her again, this time sinking her gnashing teeth into Widowmaker’s forearm. The assassin cried out, losing her grip on her grappling gun at the same time she hit the trigger to retract the cable. She watched with wide eyes as her escape route went shooting out the broken window and across the street, well out of reach.



Letting out a hiss of anger, Widowmaker yanked her hand away from the secretary, wincing as a chunk of her flesh tore away. She backhanded the undead woman across the face before bringing her rifle up. She shoved the barrel under the woman’s chin and squeezed the trigger, sending her brains exploding out of the top of her head. The secretary’s body gave off a frantic series of jerks before flopping back to the floor. Widowmaker snarled out a curse in her native French tongue, turning with her rifle and keeping the trigger held down. The weapon bucked in her hands, blasting out high caliber destruction into the crowd. The gut and torso shots opened up gaping wounds in the office workers, but did little to stop their advance. Widowmaker’s frustration grew as her rifle clicked empty. Before she could reload, three of the zombies wrestled her weapon away from her.



Widowmaker made a grab for her precious rifle, but even as she reached for it, one set of zombies pulled it further away from her while another set converged on her, tackling her to the floor. She grunted as her back hit the rough carpeting, struggling against the undead as they dropped with her. Their hands roughly pawed at her, peeling open the low-cut front of her outfit to completely expose her perky breasts. The balding office manager’s milky eyes fixed on one of the fleshy mounds and lunged towards it, digging his teeth into the sensitive flesh. Widowmaker screamed, trying to twist away from the man as his teeth chewed her nipple off, leaving behind a gaping wound leaking blood and fat.



In spite of her extensive conditioning, Widowmaker felt the first flickers of panic as the zombies managed to tear through the crotch of her bodysuit. She kicked at the groaning creatures, successfully managed to knock a couple away and snap at least one of their necks, but they kept on coming. She grunted as their iron-like grip closed around her ankles and shins, wrenching her long legs into the air and pulling them apart. Her clenched fists punched at them, but the blows did little to deter them. One of the male zombies dropped between Widowmaker’s spread thighs, his rigid prick already freed and aching to feel her sex wrapped around him. He lined himself up with her small, hairless slit and bucked forward, popping the head of his cock into her cool hole and drawing a fresh scream of frustrated pain from the assassin.



Widowmaker’s cunt had been primed for action since the moment she’d started lining up her shot on the young woman just before her abduction. Taking lives was the only means she had to feel anything anymore and it hadn’t taken long for those feelings to take on a sexual nature. She got off on death because it was the only thing she could get off on. But now that particular kink was being used against her. Her semi-lubricated pussy dampened further as the zombie’s pulsing prick bashed its way into her. She felt no shame from her body’s betrayal, knowing all too well that there was nothing she could do to prevent it. But the penetration brought with it an added layer of pain. It had been so very long since she’d shared her body with another person that her cunt had tightened back to a near virginal state. The zombie humping away between her legs seemed to appreciate the added tightness quite a bit, but it made Widowmaker hate the experience all the more.



Unarmed, grounded, and violated, Widowmaker fought back against the group of zombies with everything she had. It didn’t take a genius to know that they weren’t going to let her live. She didn’t have a plan for getting out of the office, but step one required her to get out of range of their clutching hands, chomping teeth, and bucking cocks. Stretching her arms out to the side and behind her, she scrambled for anything solid to grab hold of. She found the leg of a desk and the shoulder of the dead secretary and used both to her advantage, flexing her muscles in an attempt to slide out from underneath the undead man pounding into her snatch.



The zombies didn’t take kindly to their plaything’s attempts at escape. The one plundering the depths of Widowmaker’s snatch clamped his hands down on her slender hips, pinning her to the office floor. The ones not balls deep in the sniper took a more graphic approach to securing she stayed where she was. The front of Widowmaker’s outfit split further open, revealing her slim belly. The blue-skinned woman let out a howl of agony as the zombies dug their fingers into her skin, scratching angry red lines across her smooth skin before breaking through. Lifting her head, Widowmaker stared in horror as coiled lengths of her guts were ripped out of her. She felt a creeping warmth rising up the back of her throat and turned her head to vomit up a torrent of bloody puke.



The walls of Widowmaker’s pussy convulsed wildly as the pain of her disemboweling rolled through her. The zombie fucking her groaned out his appreciation, slamming his full length into her as he dug one of his hands into the gory pit of her belly. His fingers hooked around her fallopian tubes, pulling a significant chunk of the woman’s reproductive system out of her and to his mouth. As he chewed through her ovaries, he reached back in, finding the upper half of his pumping prick and giving it a squeeze. Widowmaker screamed through a throat full of blood as the zombies ripped into and through her. She kept on pulling, caught completely off guard by the panicked desperation she felt.



The balding business manager shoved both of his hands into Widowmaker’s torn gut, feeling through her slippery innards until he found the bony length of her spine. After a few hard tugs, he managed to snap her spinal cord in half. A few final spastic shivers rolled through the assassin’s cunt before it became lifeless. Muscle spasms crept through the woman’s paralyzed legs. With a horrendous wail, Widowmaker used every ounce of strength she had to pull herself away from the group of zombies. Her blue face grew deathly pale from the rapid blood loss. She stared in shock at the lower half of her body, no longer attached to the rest of her. Tears rolling down her cheeks, she crawled backwards as fast as she could, wanting nothing more than to escape the nightmare she’d found herself in. She didn’t feel the shards of broken glass digging into her palms so she never considered what they meant, reaching the ledge of the broken window with enough speed to guarantee she couldn’t keep herself from falling.



Widowmaker sucked in a lungful of air as she felt nothing but open space behind her. Her head swooned with dizziness, both from shock and the sudden grip of gravity yanking her downwards. The horrifying visage of her lower half being raped and devoured left her line of sight, transforming into a bleak night sky. Her hair fluttered as wind rushed over her, what remained of her body quickly picking up speed as it dropped from the sixth floor of the office building. In her final moments, the pain faded, as did the panic, leaving her numb and just a little thankful that her life was finally coming to an end. Her eyes slipped closed and she whispered an apology to her dead husband that ended abruptly as the back of her head smashed into the pavement, sending her eyes shooting from their sockets on a geyser of her pulped brain matter.



A handful of zombies lounging near Widowmaker’s point of impact took notice of her sudden arrival. They shuffled towards the assassin, their guts rumbling with freshly stirred hunger. Like my stories? Check out my Patreon! Find Reply Deathstalker

Posting Freak



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Reputation: Posts: 2,611Threads: 228Joined: Jan 2011Reputation: 45 #4 Chapter Three: Bastila Shan



Bastila Shan called upon the Force to sooth her frazzled nerves. The last thing she remembered was drifting off to sleep on board the Ebon Hawk . She’d awoken to find herself in a sprawling tunnel system. The river of waste-filled water flowing through the center of the tunnel was all the evidence she needed to determine she was in some sort of sewage system, probably one that serviced a rather large city, by the looks of it. She considered it rather disturbing that she’d been in enough sewers that she was able to recognize that this particular one was unlike any other. The technology and design being used – although not exactly primitive – seemed altogether different than the sorts used in her reality. Because that was the other thing: Bastila knew – without a doubt – that something had ripped her right out of her reality.



Her link with the Force – usually as natural and comforting as an old friend – felt muted and faded. She couldn’t sense Revan or any of the others. She truly couldn’t sense much, no signs of life. Bastila felt blind, even though there was nothing wrong with her eyes. She kept a steady grip on her lightsaber, thumb resting against the weapon’s ignition button, as her mind wandered, trying to figure out what had happened to her. It wasn’t a dream. She’d always been a vivid dreamer, but she knew her mind well enough to know she was no longer sleeping. She rejected a Sith trap almost as fast, but for vastly different reasons. If the Sith were capable of removing people from reality, Bastila didn’t dare think of what they might do with such power. And as good as I am, I doubt they’d use it just to take me out , the Jedi thought.



But that was the problem. As far as Bastila knew, she hadn’t been the only one removed from her reality. Everyone and everything she knew or cared for could have been so much void. She paused, sucking in a deep breath and letting her eyes slip closed, falling into a meditative trance for roughly thirty seconds. Her mind calmed as she contemplated the certainty that she had far more questions than answers and that focusing on those questions did her little good. She assured herself that if anyone could handle the bizarre situation, it was her and that, regardless of the cause of her sudden transportation, she would find her way home no matter what the cost.



Feeling a good deal calmer, Bastila opened her eyes and continued through the sewer. Her first goal was to get out of the underground area. Presumably, there might be someone in the city above that might be able to give her answers or at least lend their assistance. The odds of running into anyone in the sewer system seemed fairly low. Rounding a bend in the tunnel, Bastila lifted a curious eyebrow as she was immediately proven wrong. A man in a bright orange vest and yellow helmet stood about halfway down the tunnel, knee-deep in the muck. That was the first clue Bastila had that something about the man was off. She knew it would take a very good reason for her to go spelunking in the waste and, judging by how the man simply stood there, he didn’t appear to have any reason at all for it.



“Sir?” Bastila called, keeping her lightsaber ready. “Do you need assistance?” She smirked, unable to ignore the absurdity of the situation. Leave it to me to get teleported into a whole new reality and find a stray who needs more help than I do , she thought. Her smirk faded as the maintenance worker slowly turned towards her, legs sloshing through the filthy water. Although she knew nothing of the new world she’d been brought to, she doubted anything that looked as deformed and decayed as the man was friendly. She’d seen plenty of devious looking aliens who were friendly and downright charming, but she had no interest in getting to know the ghoulish thing before her. She reached out with the Force, trying to sense it. At first, she felt nothing. Then a wave of blinding agony, ravenous hunger, and all-consuming lust shot through her. She gasped, squeezing her eyes shut tight as she blocked herself form the thing’s horrid Force aura and triggered the vibrant yellow blades of her double-sided lightsaber. “Why is nothing ever simple?” she muttered.



Attacking an unarmed man felt wrong, but in the brief glimpse she’d gotten inside the thing’s head, Bastila knew that whatever she faced was no man. Perhaps it had been, once, but whatever life it had once possessed had been scooped out and replaced with something that – for lack of a better concept – could only be described as pure evil. Even the Sith did not possess such utter darkness within them. As strange as it felt, Bastila found herself grateful that the man lacked any form of weaponry. She suspected she would need all of the help she could get in order to survive the hellish creature, especially if there were others like it lurking within the sewers.



The undead maintenance worker stomped towards Bastila, sloshing through the water and reaching his clenching hands towards her. His mouth hung open, groaning out with a deep yearning that the distinct bulge in the crotch of his pants shared. The man’s hollowed eye sockets leaked a steady stream of greenish black ichor, although his blindness didn’t seem to deter him from being able to track Bastila as she sidestepped her way around him. The shining brightness of her lightsaber didn’t seem to bother him much, either, even when she slashed out at him and lopped off one of his arms. The hunk of meat and bone plopped into the water and sank out of sight, but the man didn’t recoil in pain. He just kept on reaching for the Jedi.



Bastila had no interest in prolonging the fight, especially considering the way the creature continued to groan and wail. The disturbing sound of its voice echoed off the walls of the tunnel. So far, she’d only seen the one, but if there were any more of the things in the sewers, the noise would certainly draw them down right on top of her. With a spin, Bastila struck out at the zombie again, this time cleaving it in half across the waist. The upper half of the man’s body slid backwards and dropped into the water, single arm continuing to thrash about as he sank beneath the surface. It happened fast, but Bastila still noticed how the thing remained alive despite his bisection.



The Jedi wasn’t given long to contemplate the sort of terrifying power that could bestow such monstrosities with apparent eternal life. A rumbling tremor rolled through the tunnel, causing the sewage to ripple. “Blast,” Bastila muttered, looking up and down the tunnel in search of the source of the disturbance and spotted an advancing wave of fetid water. Her eyes shot wide as she saw the thing rushing along behind the wave. She’d seen Hutts that were skinnier than the hulking, bulbous creature. It vaguely resembled a man, although it was obscenely bloated. Its skin glistened with sludge and, unlike the maintenance worker, it was completely nude. The thing’s throbbing erection emerged from the water not unlike the most perverted shark fin ever imagined, pressing firmly into the bottom of the thing’s expansive gut. Its head looked like a hairless, tumor-like growth emerging from its broad shoulders, with a mouth stretching obscenely wide across the lower half of its face and tiny, pin-prick eyes shimmering in the low light.



Bastila turned to face the Big Man, setting her feet firmly and holding her lightsaber on front of her. Despite its sizeable bulk and the water sloshing all around it, the thing closed the distance to her in surprisingly little time. With a yell, she swung the shimmering blade of her lightsaber towards the thing, carving a scorching slash up across its belly. The Big Man’s flesh split open, spilling out a heavy wave of greasy slop. The stench of the monster’s stomach contents that struck Bastila felt like running a speeder bike into a tree at full speed. She retched and stumbled backwards, tears stinging her eyes as she did her best to breathe through her mouth. She glimpsed some solid chunks within the wet slop pouring out of the Big Man’s split belly, recognizing a stained skull and a partially dissolved foot.



Something that looked like a thick length of tripe shot out of the Big Man’s gaping slash wound with blinding speed. Bastila barely had time to react, bringing her lightsaber up and twisting it to the side to lop off the searching tip of the hose-like growth. The Big Man’s mouth shot open wide, releasing a roar of annoyed pain as three more of the intestinal lassos whipped out of his belly. Bastila jumped back, hacking and slashing with her lightsaber in an attempt to keep the tendrils away from her. She very nearly succeeded, too focused on the lengths stretching towards her face and arms to notice the one that had slipped underneath the surface of the sludge until it looped around her ankle. “No!” she yelled, attempting to bring her lightsaber down to free herself from the intestine’s tight grip. Before she could, the viscera retracted, yanking her off balance. The Jedi’s heart leapt into her throat as her fingers slipped away from her lightsaber’s hilt. The twin-bladed weapon flew into the air, spinning end over end. She flinched and twisted away, narrowly avoiding having her beautiful face carved in half by her own glowing blade.



Bastila regretted her instinctive act of self-preservation almost immediately as she splashed into the river of sewage. The wretched sludge soaked through her clothing in moments, but that was nothing compared to the mouthful of the waste that she very nearly swallowed. The tainted water stung her eyes, further disorienting her as the Big Man tugged her flailing form along underneath the surface. More lengths of his animated guts dove into the water and converged on the squirming bit of prey he had caught, snaring her other leg, her arms, and looping around her waist. Bastila sucked in a much needed lungful of air as the Big Man yanked her up out of the water, only to release it as a horrified scream as she found herself being pulled into the creature’s split gut.



A dozen more fleshy tendrils converged on Bastila, looping around her and pulling her deeper into the Big Man’s belly. The Jedi struggled to stretch her hand and draw her lightsaber towards her, but the already weakened hold she had on the Force paired with her terror sealed her fate. She became mashed tightly into the Big Man’s gut, writhing lengths of tripe squirming along every inch of her body. She twisted her head around far enough to look back over her shoulder, screaming again as she saw the scorched lips of the wound she’d given the thing closing back up behind her. “No, please!” she shrieked, kicking and squirming as best she could, but finding it impossible to break free of the slippery viscera squeezing so tightly around her. Bastila panted heavily, panic rushing through her as the two sides of the wound met and merged back together, leaving her trapped within the obese monster.



As soon as the Big Man had his treat sealed within him, he went to work on her. His intestines rubbed against her body as his stomach juices soaked through her clothing. Bastila fell into frantic sobs, acutely aware of how the juices made her skin tingle. She twisted her shoulders from side to side and squirmed her hands through the living viscera, trying to find some means of escape. She curled her fingers and gritted her teeth, silently screaming for her lightsaber to come to her. She didn’t even care of it carved through her on its way through the creature. A quick death seemed vastly preferable to whatever the Big Man intended to do to her.



Bastila’s clothing sloshed off of her in soggy clumps, her naked flesh itching terribly as the Big Man’s stomach acids diligently ate away at her. Her eyes bulged with sickened horror as one of the lengths of intestine looped around her thigh before shoving its thick tip against her exposed crotch. The small patch of pubic hair she had sizzled away as dribbles of bile flowed over them before burning away at her sensitive labial folds. The Jedi let out a horrified grunt as the thick slab of gut wedged itself into her cunt, filling her up in the most terrible way. Two more fleshy lengths latched onto her perky breasts, applying a disturbing suction to her aching nipples. Bastila screamed and wailed until a piece of intestine slid around her elegant throat and punched its way into her gaping mouth.



The Big Man let out a bubbly chuckle as he turned to lumber his way back to the area of the sewer he called home. As he felt the morsel squirming within him, feeling her hot cunt clenching around his intestinal tendril, he stretched one arm down around his jiggling belly to grip his massive erection. He stroked along the veiny length as he moved, timing his strokes to the rhythm of the intestine pumping away at Bastila’s pussy. He’d only just begun processing her, but already she tasted far better than the handful of unlucky zombies he’d consumed so far. And, unlike the living dead, she kept on fighting against him, providing pleasant tingles with each kick or squirm she made within his ravenous gut.



Bastila’s sinuses burned from the stale, humid air within the Big Man’s stomach cavity. The walls of her throat felt scorched from the stomach juices leaking from the length of trip fucking her face. With little hope left, the Jedi took a depressing bit of thankfulness for the fact that the juices had melted away her taste buds fairly rapidly. Even so, it didn’t make it any easier to swallow the liquefied chunks of her tongue as they rolled down the back of her throat. The guts attached to Bastila’s chest sucked her tits away completely, strips of skin and chunks of yellowed fat pouring down their lengths. Her slender abs bulged outwards as the intestine fucking her rammed its way into her with growing force, searing its way through her cervix and into her uterus. Her feet – resting in the rising pool of juices at the bottom of the Big Man’s belly – had already been stripped down to the bone.



As the Big Man’s pleasure grew, so did the flow of stomach acid within his squirming, Jedi-filled belly. Bastila’s skin slid away from glistening muscle just as her clothing had slid away from her body. Clumps of half-melted hair and scalp rolled off her head and across her partially dissolved shoulders. The tripe tendril pounding into her cunt ripped through the woman’s gut like wet tissue paper. One of her legs fell away at the knee with a series of soft pops. Fingernails peeled back as she uselessly clawed at the inside of the Big Man’s stomach, her movements becoming less and less coordinated as the inescapable agony ate away at her consciousness just as efficiently as it ate away at her body.



The Big Man jerked his slippery cock faster, his fat balls drawing tight with impending release. He let out an impressive bellow that echoed down the tunnel as he came, spraying creamy spunk out into the sewage. The doomed Jedi woman could only manage a far less impressive gurgle as the creature’s massive belly filled with digestive enzymes, rapidly dissolving what remained of her in a handful of seconds and leaving behind nothing more of Bastila Shan than a chunky, nutrient-rich soup that the Big Man would absorb at his leisure. Like my stories? Check out my Patreon! Find Reply Deathstalker

Posting Freak



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Reputation: Posts: 2,611Threads: 228Joined: Jan 2011Reputation: 45 #5 Chapter Four: Psylocke



Psylocke rubbed at her temple, trying to sooth the pounding migraine she’d had since her spontaneous arrival in the dead city. She took out her persistent head pain on the shambling husks of stinking meat intent on biting and fucking her. It was obvious the walking corpses had been real people once. She felt pangs of regret with each one she was forced to slice her katana through, wishing she had some means of dealing with the situation that didn’t involve murdering countless fathers, mothers, even children. She tried to console herself with the near certainty that whatever had been done to the people could not be reversed – that bringing them a swift death was some kind of mercy – but she couldn’t ignore the fact that the more of them she skilled, the worse her head hurt.



Shoving the tip of her bloodstained blade through the eye of a former school teacher, Psylocke winced as a fresh spark of agony shot through her own head. The throb came from just behind her eye, the same eye she’d just stabbed through on the zombie. It was far too specific to be coincidence. Kicking the twitching carcass to the ground, the mutant woman sheathed her weapon and darted for a nearby convenience store. The front window was smashed in, but the shop looked devoid of undead activity. Hopping inside, she headed towards the rear of the store, snagging a bottle of water from one of the dead fridges along the way. She twisted the cap off and tossed it aside, bringing the bottle to her lips and chugging half of it down in several large gulps.



Psylocke was thankful that the little office in the back of shop was empty. She pulled the door closed behind her and circled around the desk, flopping into the seat behind it. She sucked down most of the rest of the water before dumping the last of it over her head. Even at room temperature, the water felt refreshing against her flushed skin. She took a breath, whimpering slightly as the pain in her head spiked briefly before softening. Without the ravenous undead clawing at her every step of the way, she could take a moment to analyze exactly why she was in so much pain. Closing her eyes, she focused through the pain and stretched her psychic muscles.



The pain worsened again, but Psylocke was left with no doubts as to where it was coming from. It had nothing to do with anything physically wrong with her. The residents of the city were truly dead, but each and every one of them screamed out on the psychic plane. Fragments of their former selves remained, trapped in an eternal suffering the likes of which she’d never thought possible. Those same fragments were still connected on some level to their physical forms. Each time she’d killed one the pain had been transferred to the psyches and then doubled back onto her.



With the source of her problem revealed, Psylocke breathed a sigh of relief. She could close herself off from the psychic plane and greatly reduce, if not altogether remove, the pain pounding away in her head. Taking a few more deep breaths, the mutant woman closed her eyes and put herself into a meditative trance, slowly and carefully shutting down her abilities. Once the migraine subsided, she could focus on figuring out who or what had teleported her into the city. The tenseness in her muscles faded as she drifted deeper into the trance, feeling the screaming voices of the millions of dead fading away. As they did, she sensed something else that caused her stomach to churn uneasily. Before she could re-think her decision, Psylocke decided to give it a mental prodding.



A single, miniscule prod was all it took to seal Psylocke’s fate. Her eyes snapped open, teeth grinding together as she screamed through them. Her body shuddered within the office chair as the full force of the malevolent entity responsible for the city’s death and her unwanted teleportation crashed down on her, punishing her severely for her brash actions. Her arms flopped as she shuddered in the seat, eyes rolling back and drool spraying through her teeth. The Omni ripped the mutant woman’s consciousness out, absorbing it, digesting it, and shoving it back into her as a corrupted, tangled mess. Psylocke sucked in a deep gasp, flinging herself forward and clutching at the desk as she was released from the terrible grip of the consciousness.



Psylocke lay slumped over the desk, eyes staring blankly as her mind reset. The Omni hadn’t stolen her life, like it had to the rest of the Necropolis, but it might as well have. Her eyelids drifted closed and then opened, suddenly seeing the world in a whole new light. She pushed herself up, looking around the office with a dull, vacant expression on her face. Gradually, she felt more and more like herself, but she could not recall where she was or why she was there. Psylocke stumbled out of the office and out into the wrecked convenience store. She grabbed a Twinkie on her way towards the exit, ripping open the wrapper and shoving half of it into her mouth. “Sorry, sir,” she muttered to the shop owner she saw through her clouded vision. “I can’t pay for it right now, but I swear, I’ll come back later.” The man simply nodded and gave her a friendly wave. Sometimes it paid to be a superhero.



Chewing through the tasty, sugar-filled pastry, Psylocke returned to the ruined streets of the Necropolis. It was a beautiful day, at least through her eyes. She couldn’t recall which town she was in, but the people all looked so happy, strolling up and down the streets with smiles on their faces and skips in their step. Psylocke shared their smile, starting down the sidewalk as she enjoyed her snack. She rounded a corner and stopped dead in her tracks, eyes going wide and mouth gaping open. A small bit of gooey, half-chewed Twinkie rolled over her lip, the sticky cream feeling clinging to the inside of one of her large breasts.



“Scott?” she gasped, her corrupted vision transforming the broad-shouldered zombie into the man she’d not-so-secretly desired for years. The undead young man had been on the verge of a full ride football scholarship just before the Omni chose to murder his world. Aside from his stereotypical, hunky good looks, he didn’t look much like Scott Summers, but Psylocke’s brain ignored the differences, and the rot of his flesh. Her loins tingled with the same irresistible desire the zombies felt and before she knew it, she’d dropped the half-eaten Twinkie and darted up to the undead quarterback. She draped her arms against his shoulders, sparkling eyes looking up at him with open lust. “I can’t look away any longer,” she told him. “I don’t care about Jean or all the reasons we can’t be together. I want you, Scott.” She reached down and grabbed hold of his crotch, laughing as she felt him already hard and ready for her. “And I know you want me.”



Psylocke winced and whimpered as a spark of pain wiggled through her head. The world briefly shifted back to reality in her eyes, but in an instant, it returned to her version of normal. Her arousal spiked and she shoved her head forward, locking lips with Scott and swirling her tongue into his mouth. The corruption of her psyche masked the putrid taste of the undead man’s mouth from her. She gave no thought to the fact that they were standing out on a public street as she pulled him over against the wall of the nearest building. Breaking the kiss, Psylocke ripped open Scott’s shirt and leaned in to kiss and lick across his chest. She nipped her teeth against his nipples, grinning as she heard him groan in response. Stepping back, the dazed mutant woman squirmed her hands up into the sleeveless, skin-tight outfit she wore and up to her neck, pushing it down to reveal her perfect breasts to him. She cupped the hefty weight of the large mounds of flesh and jiggled them for his appreciation, laughing as she caught the fixed, almost hungry gaze he leveled on her chest.



“Don’t be shy,” she purred, moving closer and hooking a hand behind Scott’s head. She guided him down to her chest and moaned as he slurped at one of her nipples, drawing it to stiff attention. She rubbed harder at his crotch, tracing her fingers along the rigid length of his erection and pleasantly amazed by just how thick it was. Shoving her hand down the front of his pants, she gripped his girth and pumped along his length as he suckled at her breast. Psylocke cried out, the crotch of her uniform soaking through with her juices as Scott’s teeth dug into the tender meat of her tit. A thigh-quaking orgasm ripped through her as he bit down harder, ripping away a nice chunk of her soft meat.



Blood and chunks of fat dribbled from the bite wound, but Psylocke took no notice. Her lust demanded further satisfaction. She pulled Scott’s erection free of his pants and dropped to her knees before him, slurping him into her mouth and bobbing her head rapidly along his length. The stench of his rotting prick filled her nostrils and inspired her to rub at her pussy through the crotch of her uniform. She squeezed her bitten breast, fingering at the wound as her cheeks hollowed inwards, sucking hard on Scott’s erection until she had him on the cusp of release. Popping her lips free, she pulled him down to the sidewalk with her, shoving him onto his back and tugging aside the crotch of her uniform as she climbed on top of him. Holding his dick steady, Psylocke squatted onto him, crying out as his hard, cold meat filled her hot, wet slit.



Psylocke rode Scott hard and fast. Her plump tits jumped and jiggled, flinging droplets of blood and lumpy bits of fat onto the zombie quarterback’s chest and face. The dead man stared up at the exotic beauty bouncing on his cock with milky-eyed awe. His cock twitched within her, squirting watery seed into her clenching pussy, but remained hard. He reached up to paw at her rippling tit flesh, shifting his hips as best he could to meet her downward plunges. The young dead man let out an annoyed growl as he spotted a couple other zombies moving in on the gorgeous sex goddess pleasuring him, but he could do nothing to stop them.



Psylocke let out a shocked gasp followed by a playful giggle as she looked to either side of her at the new arrivals. “Logan,” she purred. “Bobby. I guess you want a piece, too, huh?” She didn’t hesitate to pull their erections out and started to jerk them off. She kept up the speed of her bouncing, leaning from one side and then the other to suck the two men off. Sweat poured out of her, both from the exertion of the spirited sex as well as the infectious bite her lover had given her. The pain returned as the plague of the undead ravaged her from within, shutting down her organs and rebooting them with a darker purpose. She cringed as the pain worsened, but fought back against it by grinding her snatch against Scott’s crotch. Sucking Logan’s cock fully down her throat, she dropped her free hand down to her crotch, wiggling her fingers against her aching clit.



As the infection spread, it proved to be the only thing capable of shaking away the psychic corruption the Omni had caused. She was in the midst of chugging down Logan’s icy cum as she blinked and her vision cleared. The pungent stench of decay assaulted her and her mind recoiled in horror as she realized where she was and what she was doing. The realization was short lived and ultimately pointless as it came in the last moment of Psylocke’s life. Her body slumped lifelessly on top of the zombie quarterback, head pressed against the crotch of the one fucking her face as the light blinked out of her eyes.



Roughly thirty seconds after she died, Psylocke released a choked groan as unholy animation took control of her. Her milky eyes shifted unsteadily for a few moments before her head pulled back. She sat on top of the undead football player for a few moments, adjusting to her new role and then resumed her spirited bouncing. A ravenous hunger grew in her churning belly. Soon, she would join the rest of the Necropolis’s population in their unending search for fresh meat. But in the meantime, she was perfectly content to continue fucking. Psylocke let out a pleased growl as one of the other zombies crouched behind her and poked his cock against her puckered sphincter. Psylocke rubbed at her temple, trying to sooth the pounding migraine she’d had since her spontaneous arrival in the dead city. She took out her persistent head pain on the shambling husks of stinking meat intent on biting and fucking her. It was obvious the walking corpses had been real people once. She felt pangs of regret with each one she was forced to slice her katana through, wishing she had some means of dealing with the situation that didn’t involve murdering countless fathers, mothers, even children. She tried to console herself with the near certainty that whatever had been done to the people could not be reversed – that bringing them a swift death was some kind of mercy – but she couldn’t ignore the fact that the more of them she skilled, the worse her head hurt.Shoving the tip of her bloodstained blade through the eye of a former school teacher, Psylocke winced as a fresh spark of agony shot through her own head. The throb came from just behind her eye, the same eye she’d just stabbed through on the zombie. It was far too specific to be coincidence. Kicking the twitching carcass to the ground, the mutant woman sheathed her weapon and darted for a nearby convenience store. The front window was smashed in, but the shop looked devoid of undead activity. Hopping inside, she headed towards the rear of the store, snagging a bottle of water from one of the dead fridges along the way. She twisted the cap off and tossed it aside, bringing the bottle to her lips and chugging half of it down in several large gulps.Psylocke was thankful that the little office in the back of shop was empty. She pulled the door closed behind her and circled around the desk, flopping into the seat behind it. She sucked down most of the rest of the water before dumping the last of it over her head. Even at room temperature, the water felt refreshing against her flushed skin. She took a breath, whimpering slightly as the pain in her head spiked briefly before softening. Without the ravenous undead clawing at her every step of the way, she could take a moment to analyze exactly why she was in so much pain. Closing her eyes, she focused through the pain and stretched her psychic muscles.The pain worsened again, but Psylocke was left with no doubts as to where it was coming from. It had nothing to do with anything physically wrong with her. The residents of the city were truly dead, but each and every one of them screamed out on the psychic plane. Fragments of their former selves remained, trapped in an eternal suffering the likes of which she’d never thought possible. Those same fragments were still connected on some level to their physical forms. Each time she’d killed one the pain had been transferred to the psyches and then doubled back onto her.With the source of her problem revealed, Psylocke breathed a sigh of relief. She could close herself off from the psychic plane and greatly reduce, if not altogether remove, the pain pounding away in her head. Taking a few more deep breaths, the mutant woman closed her eyes and put herself into a meditative trance, slowly and carefully shutting down her abilities. Once the migraine subsided, she could focus on figuring out who or what had teleported her into the city. The tenseness in her muscles faded as she drifted deeper into the trance, feeling the screaming voices of the millions of dead fading away. As they did, she sensed something else that caused her stomach to churn uneasily. Before she could re-think her decision, Psylocke decided to give it a mental prodding.A single, miniscule prod was all it took to seal Psylocke’s fate. Her eyes snapped open, teeth grinding together as she screamed through them. Her body shuddered within the office chair as the full force of the malevolent entity responsible for the city’s death and her unwanted teleportation crashed down on her, punishing her severely for her brash actions. Her arms flopped as she shuddered in the seat, eyes rolling back and drool spraying through her teeth. The Omni ripped the mutant woman’s consciousness out, absorbing it, digesting it, and shoving it back into her as a corrupted, tangled mess. Psylocke sucked in a deep gasp, flinging herself forward and clutching at the desk as she was released from the terrible grip of the consciousness.Psylocke lay slumped over the desk, eyes staring blankly as her mind reset. The Omni hadn’t stolen her life, like it had to the rest of the Necropolis, but it might as well have. Her eyelids drifted closed and then opened, suddenly seeing the world in a whole new light. She pushed herself up, looking around the office with a dull, vacant expression on her face. Gradually, she felt more and more like herself, but she could not recall where she was or why she was there. Psylocke stumbled out of the office and out into the wrecked convenience store. She grabbed a Twinkie on her way towards the exit, ripping open the wrapper and shoving half of it into her mouth. “Sorry, sir,” she muttered to the shop owner she saw through her clouded vision. “I can’t pay for it right now, but I swear, I’ll come back later.” The man simply nodded and gave her a friendly wave. Sometimes it paid to be a superhero.Chewing through the tasty, sugar-filled pastry, Psylocke returned to the ruined streets of the Necropolis. It was a beautiful day, at least through her eyes. She couldn’t recall which town she was in, but the people all looked so happy, strolling up and down the streets with smiles on their faces and skips in their step. Psylocke shared their smile, starting down the sidewalk as she enjoyed her snack. She rounded a corner and stopped dead in her tracks, eyes going wide and mouth gaping open. A small bit of gooey, half-chewed Twinkie rolled over her lip, the sticky cream feeling clinging to the inside of one of her large breasts.“Scott?” she gasped, her corrupted vision transforming the broad-shouldered zombie into the man she’d not-so-secretly desired for years. The undead young man had been on the verge of a full ride football scholarship just before the Omni chose to murder his world. Aside from his stereotypical, hunky good looks, he didn’t look much like Scott Summers, but Psylocke’s brain ignored the differences, and the rot of his flesh. Her loins tingled with the same irresistible desire the zombies felt and before she knew it, she’d dropped the half-eaten Twinkie and darted up to the undead quarterback. She draped her arms against his shoulders, sparkling eyes looking up at him with open lust. “I can’t look away any longer,” she told him. “I don’t care about Jean or all the reasons we can’t be together. I want you, Scott.” She reached down and grabbed hold of his crotch, laughing as she felt him already hard and ready for her. “And I know you want me.”Psylocke winced and whimpered as a spark of pain wiggled through her head. The world briefly shifted back to reality in her eyes, but in an instant, it returned to her version of normal. Her arousal spiked and she shoved her head forward, locking lips with Scott and swirling her tongue into his mouth. The corruption of her psyche masked the putrid taste of the undead man’s mouth from her. She gave no thought to the fact that they were standing out on a public street as she pulled him over against the wall of the nearest building. Breaking the kiss, Psylocke ripped open Scott’s shirt and leaned in to kiss and lick across his chest. She nipped her teeth against his nipples, grinning as she heard him groan in response. Stepping back, the dazed mutant woman squirmed her hands up into the sleeveless, skin-tight outfit she wore and up to her neck, pushing it down to reveal her perfect breasts to him. She cupped the hefty weight of the large mounds of flesh and jiggled them for his appreciation, laughing as she caught the fixed, almost hungry gaze he leveled on her chest.“Don’t be shy,” she purred, moving closer and hooking a hand behind Scott’s head. She guided him down to her chest and moaned as he slurped at one of her nipples, drawing it to stiff attention. She rubbed harder at his crotch, tracing her fingers along the rigid length of his erection and pleasantly amazed by just how thick it was. Shoving her hand down the front of his pants, she gripped his girth and pumped along his length as he suckled at her breast. Psylocke cried out, the crotch of her uniform soaking through with her juices as Scott’s teeth dug into the tender meat of her tit. A thigh-quaking orgasm ripped through her as he bit down harder, ripping away a nice chunk of her soft meat.Blood and chunks of fat dribbled from the bite wound, but Psylocke took no notice. Her lust demanded further satisfaction. She pulled Scott’s erection free of his pants and dropped to her knees before him, slurping him into her mouth and bobbing her head rapidly along his length. The stench of his rotting prick filled her nostrils and inspired her to rub at her pussy through the crotch of her uniform. She squeezed her bitten breast, fingering at the wound as her cheeks hollowed inwards, sucking hard on Scott’s erection until she had him on the cusp of release. Popping her lips free, she pulled him down to the sidewalk with her, shoving him onto his back and tugging aside the crotch of her uniform as she climbed on top of him. Holding his dick steady, Psylocke squatted onto him, crying out as his hard, cold meat filled her hot, wet slit.Psylocke rode Scott hard and fast. Her plump tits jumped and jiggled, flinging droplets of blood and lumpy bits of fat onto the zombie quarterback’s chest and face. The dead man stared up at the exotic beauty bouncing on his cock with milky-eyed awe. His cock twitched within her, squirting watery seed into her clenching pussy, but remained hard. He reached up to paw at her rippling tit flesh, shifting his hips as best he could to meet her downward plunges. The young dead man let out an annoyed growl as he spotted a couple other zombies moving in on the gorgeous sex goddess pleasuring him, but he could do nothing to stop them.Psylocke let out a shocked gasp followed by a playful giggle as she looked to either side of her at the new arrivals. “Logan,” she purred. “Bobby. I guess you want a piece, too, huh?” She didn’t hesitate to pull their erections out and started to jerk them off. She kept up the speed of her bouncing, leaning from one side and then the other to suck the two men off. Sweat poured out of her, both from the exertion of the spirited sex as well as the infectious bite her lover had given her. The pain returned as the plague of the undead ravaged her from within, shutting down her organs and rebooting them with a darker purpose. She cringed as the pain worsened, but fought back against it by grinding her snatch against Scott’s crotch. Sucking Logan’s cock fully down her throat, she dropped her free hand down to her crotch, wiggling her fingers against her aching clit.As the infection spread, it proved to be the only thing capable of shaking away the psychic corruption the Omni had caused. She was in the midst of chugging down Logan’s icy cum as she blinked and her vision cleared. The pungent stench of decay assaulted her and her mind recoiled in horror as she realized where she was and what she was doing. The realization was short lived and ultimately pointless as it came in the last moment of Psylocke’s life. Her body slumped lifelessly on top of the zombie quarterback, head pressed against the crotch of the one fucking her face as the light blinked out of her eyes.Roughly thirty seconds after she died, Psylocke released a choked groan as unholy animation took control of her. Her milky eyes shifted unsteadily for a few moments before her head pulled back. She sat on top of the undead football player for a few moments, adjusting to her new role and then resumed her spirited bouncing. A ravenous hunger grew in her churning belly. Soon, she would join the rest of the Necropolis’s population in their unending search for fresh meat. But in the meantime, she was perfectly content to continue fucking. Psylocke let out a pleased growl as one of the other zombies crouched behind her and poked his cock against her puckered sphincter.



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Reputation: Posts: 2,611Threads: 228Joined: Jan 2011Reputation: 45 #6 Chapter Five: Rey



Rey didn’t know much about the Force, especially her potential strength in wielding it, but it had been a part of her since the day she’d been born. If only on a subconscious level, she’d been aware of it. The sudden removal of it didn’t affect her quite as strongly as it had Bastila Shan, but she did notice. It was easy for her to attribute the persistent chill she felt to the lower temperature within the decrepit city she’d been abruptly transported into. Finding herself amidst a group of seven zombies with nothing more than her quarterstaff to defend herself, Rey had greater problems than the sudden chill to worry about.



Broken fingernails clawed at Rey’s heavy, constricting clothing. Designed to keep the sands of Jakku from getting in and chaffing against her skin, the tough fabric worked just as effectively as light armor against the zombies’ scrambling hands. It wouldn’t hold up forever, but it lasted more than long enough for Rey to counter their pawing with a devastating attack of her own. Bringing the staff up, she jabbed it forward against the side of one of the zombies, flexing outwards to send the rotting man flying backwards. His back shattered against the top of a fire hydrant before his body flipped up and over it, landing in a heap on the sidewalk.



Taking advantage of the opening in the group, Rey darted out of range of the six remaining zombies. She spun back towards them, bringing her staff up and slamming the end of it across the back of one’s neck. The zombie’s head shot back, skin stretching and ripping as the force of the blow decapitated it. The headless body stumbled and fell against another of its undead companions, slowing it down enough for Rey to follow up her swing with a hard jab that caved in the second zombie’s forehead. She drew her staff free of the head, the tip of it covered in gooey, foul smelling gore, and shifted her focus to the four remaining corpses shuffling towards her.



With a defiant yell, Rey charged the four zombies, snapping, thrusting, and slashing her staff until they all lay twitching and properly dead at her feet. Panting lightly, the nineteen-year-old took the time to give her bizarre surroundings a proper survey. Compared to Jakku, the place seemed to be a stunning metropolis of technological advance. The towering structures surrounding her made it impossible to see the horizon and left her feeling a little claustrophobic. She had no idea where she was, why she’d been brought there, how she’d gotten there, or who’d transporter her. The cacophony of hungry moans echoing off the building walls told her that she’d not likely find any answers from the rotting residents of the city. Turning towards the loudest of the sounds, she spotted another pack of the things heading towards her as fast as their atrophied muscles would allow.



Rey hadn’t survived on a less-than-friendly, frontier world by refusing to run from a fight, but after the ease of dispatching the seven initial zombies, she didn’t see much point in turning tail just yet. Running blindly through the city didn’t make much strategic sense, either. She was just as likely to blunder into an even deadlier adversary by doing that. So she turned towards the second batch of undead and readied her staff, sliding into a confident fighting stance. Back on Jakku, she’d seen fellow scavengers devolve into things not too different from the things she faced now. Dismayed by their lot in life, they turned to blending together whatever chemical and organic components they could to craft dangerous drugs. A lot of the scavengers died outright, but she’d seen more than a few lose their minds, becoming little more than insane shells who felt no pain and subsisted on anything they could shove into their mouths, including other scavengers.



Thankfully, unlike the times she’d had to defend herself against a feral addict, Rey spotted no familiar faces amidst the crowd of walking corpses trying to get a piece of her. It made killing the things a little easier, as did the dullness of their eyes. They were alive only via technicality. Judging by some of the wounds some of them possessed, even that made little sense to her. She learned fast as she slapped and smashed the zombies down that unless she destroyed their brains they could still be dangerous. Their skulls weren’t too tough to crack through, making it even easier for her to dispatch them in a timely manner.



Focusing on one to three zombies at a time, Rey neglected to notice the multitude of other shuffling corpses drawn towards her. She realized her mistake when a cold, clammy hand clamped down on her shoulder from behind. Jerking her staff backwards, she slammed the end of it into the zombie’s gut, glancing behind herself to see that more of the things had closed in behind her. Stuck in the middle of the street, there weren’t many options for cover or escape. The group crowding in from behind her wasn’t as thick as the ones in front of her, but after beating down the first scattered line of living corpses, she found even more waiting just behind them. Fear crept into Rey as she realized the full extent of her fatal misjudgment. If she wanted a shot at figuring out what the hell was going on, she needed to get away from the growing horde and off the streets.



The task was easier said than done. The zombies died easy, but their numbers were overwhelming. Unlike Rey, they didn’t seem to have to worry about stamina or fatigue. She leapt and swung her staff, twisting from one side to the next in an attempt to keep the things as far back from her as she could. The young woman let out a startled yell as she tripped over one of the many corpses littering the ground. She tried to turn and regain her balance, but only managed to twist her ankle. Jolting pain shot up her left leg, forcing another yell past her lips as she collapsed to the gore-drenched street, faceplanting into the torn gut of one of the dead zombies. Partially congealed blood clung to her beautiful face as she lifted her head, holding down the vomit eager to come spewing out of her as the stench of the rotting corpse filled her nostrils.



Rey rolled onto her back in time to watch one of the zombies drop on top of her. Ignoring the throbbing from her ankle, she yanked her staff in front of her, holding it sideways to block the undead man. He strained his head forward, gnashing his teeth a couple inches from her face. Flecks of stale saliva and blood stained her sweaty face as she flexed her lean muscles and worked her uninjured leg up between herself and the zombie. Planting the sole of her foot against the zombie’s midsection, Rey kicked outwards and sent the creature shooting off of her. It was the smallest of victories and – over the course of securing it – the zombies had closed in tighter around her. The skyscraper-induced claustrophobia didn’t seem nearly as bad now that so many undead bodies were grouped so close around her. She couldn’t even see the dark sky above, her vision filled with nothing but rotten faces leering down at her.



Three of the zombies worked together to tug Rey’s staff out of her grip. She let out an urgent groan, grabbing for the weapon as it was hoisted up and carried well out of reach. With nothing else to defend herself with, she couldn’t do much to block the next zombie that dropped on top of her. His rotten breath washed over her face as his hands pawed at her chest. Rey tried to shove the zombie off of her and wound up with her thumb slipping into his gaping mouth. She screamed as the zombie’s jaw snapped shut, teeth chomping into the digit and chewing it free. Hot blood pumped steadily from the ragged stump left behind as the zombie swallowed her thumb.



More zombies dropped down around Rey, their undead flesh squeezing close together so they could all reach out for her. Hopelessly pinned to the road, she could do nothing as they persistently tugged and tore at her clothing, managing to get through the tough fabric and slowly reveal more and more of her lithe form as she squirmed beneath them. Although she did her best to keep herself bundled up against Jakku’s harsh sun, distinct tan lines separated Rey’s body between areas that got sun and areas that almost never did. Her firm breasts were shockingly pale and tipped with soft brown, quarter-sized areolae. The zombies clawed at her, ripping away more shreds of clothing and leaving behind dark red scratches against her skin.



Rey’s arms were yanked out to her sides, providing easy access for a number of the zombies to start chewing their way through her flesh. Rey screamed, eyes bulging as she felt herself being ripped apart one bloody chunk at a time. The zombie lying on top of her managed to yank her left leg up, bending it back and resting it against his shoulder as his fingers fumbled to rip open the crotch of her outfit. The fabric held up as best it could, but it wasn’t long before it came away. The underwear underneath lasted even less time, coming away to reveal Rey’s cunt. The undead man’s milky eyes flared with lust, hastily tugging open his own pants to allow his throbbing erection to spring free.



Keeping Rey’s right leg pinned to the ground and her left bent back, the zombie leaned further over her and angled his cock at her vulnerable slit. The young woman shrieked as the thick member shoved its way into her dry hole. The pain wasn’t quite as bad as the gnashing teeth chewing the muscle tissue away from her arms and cracking their way through the bones of her fingers, but the violation brought with it humiliation and disgust. Growing up an orphan on Jakku, Rey was no stranger to the dangers of sexual assault, but she’d always managed to save herself before it went too far. She wasn’t nearly as lucky this time around. Wincing with each forceful thrust the zombie made into her, Rey tried desperately to flex her leg and force him off of her. Dislodging a single zombie wouldn’t have been too difficult, but there were at least four others packed in so close behind the one raping her that it was like pushing out against a solid wall.



Rey’s hot snatch clenched around the zombie’s pounding prick, unintentionally massaging it and urging it closer and closer towards release. One of the many undead converging on her managed to squirm his head under the arm of another zombie so he could clamp his teeth down around the woman’s left nipple. Rey’s screams rose in pitch as the sensitive nub was painfully chewed away from her chest. Blood and fat oozed from the open wound left behind. Another zombie clawed at her right tit, scratching across the pale mound of firm flesh until he managed to rip away a chunk of her meat. Between the two zombies, it didn’t take long for Rey’s less than bountiful bosom to be reduced to bloody scraps. The one clawing at her worked his fingers into the cramped space between her ribs, tugging roughly until the bone snapped and came away.



The zombies diligently chewing their way through Rey’s arm finally managed to rip the limb away from her body entirely. They pulled the mangled arm upwards, ripping through what remained of it. The young woman’s incessant screams transformed into wet gurgles as one of the creatures chomped a chunk out of her smooth throat. Her mouth gaped open, wide eyes filled with pained terror as she choked on her hot blood. Tears flowed down her cheeks as the zombie hammering into her groaned and pumped his seed deep into her shivering pussy. Snapping and crunching filled the air as more of her ribs were ripped out of her, exposing her stuttering lungs and rapidly beating heart. Her slim stomach ripped open under the persistent clawing of three ravenous undead men. Her steaming innards were pulled out of the gaping wound as her legs kicked and twitched. One of the zombies pressed up close behind the one raping her bit hi