Fan-Fucking-Tastic!


Introduction:
If you squick easily, my stories aren’t for you. Consider yourself warned.

I’m walking up to my door after driving home from work. I’m tired and want to sit and relax for a bit. I turn my key in the lock, but don’t hear a click. Oh well, I must’ve left it unlocked when I left this morning.

Once inside, I start to shut the door, but there’s man behind it. Seeing that I see him, he slams the door shut and steps forward. I step backwards and trip, falling on my butt as I ask “Wh- Who are you?”

He reaches down and grabs me by the neck with both hands and lifts me up. I can’t breathe. I’m used to having my breath held like this during sex with my bf, and can’t help but be somewhat aroused by this. I struggle to pull his hands off, but with the lack of air and holding up the weight of my body, I just can’t. He brings me into my bedroom and tosses me on the bed.

I cough and begin to catch my breath. He takes off his shirt. He certainly keeps himself in good shape. He could easily get women with that body, so why is he here? “What do you want from me?”

He pulls a knife out of his pocket and points it at me. “Do not speak unless I ask you a question or you get cut. Do not scream or you get cut. Do whatever I say or you get cut. If I cut you and you scream, I cut you again. Understand?” He begins removing my left shoe.

“Yes, but…” As I say the word “but”, I feel the knife separate my left pinky toe from my foot. As I scream from the pain, I feel it separate the next toe in line. I bite my lip to keep from screaming from that pain.

“Do. You. Understand?”

I nod slowly, my face covered in tears, as my bedsheets near my foot begin to get stained by my blood.

“Good. Now remove everything above your waist”.

He continues to remove the clothing below my waist as I remove my top and bra. Once all my clothes are off he brings the knife to my middle toe of that foot. “This is for your right earring,” as he slices the toe off and I bite my lip hard again. “And this is for your left earring,” as he repeats on my index toe, leaving only the big toe on that foot.

I remove my earrings as quickly as I can and toss them to the side, off the bed. I look back at him. This man is crazy. There’s nothing I can do but obey him, or I’ll be torn apart joint by joint. He looks back at me with a sadistic grin, which seems to grow wider when he sees my tear covered face. He must be feeding off my fear. He looks down at my four severed toes and picks them up. He walks over near my head and puts them down saying “Eat your failure. Spit out only the bone.”

I take one of the toes to my mouth, slowly an begin to chew on it. I pull the thumbnail and bone from my mouth with my hand and toss it aside. The idea of having toes in my mouth like this is gross to me; especially my own toes, and especially eating them. This is a part of my body, not food. The shock wears off though as I eat them. I realize that, ignoring all the mental issues with eating one’s own toes, they really aren’t that bad. This is probably because I get regular pedicures and keep them nice. I’d like to keep the rest of them on my feet though.

While I eat the other three, my assailant undresses. He really has a great body. I wish he wasn’t an insane rapist. At least, I assume he intends to rape me.

Naked, he lies on top of me and begins to grab and suck on my tits. Then he starts to move down to my pussy. “Enjoying this, huh?”, as he feels how wet my pussy is. I don’t answer, for fear of losing another toe. I don’t want to be turned on, but he’s very good at it. He licks at my clit. I feel something cold and metal enter my pussy. A dildo, perhaps? I didn’t think a rapist would care whether or not I get to orgasm. It feels very good and I start to moan.

As he continues, I get louder. After I let out an “OHHhhhhh!”, I hear “This is for screaming.” I get a brief eye-widening moment of fear, uncertain exactly what he’s about to do, and then I feel it. The metal object in my pussy is not a dildo. As he presses a button on the back of it, the sides instantly lower, like The Pear of Anguish (or an umbrella), but opening from the end near my assailant. If blunt, this would simply cause the object to pull itself out of me, but the blades are sharp and spinning, like a fan or a blender.

The pain is like nothing I’ve imagined before as the blades grind up my pussy and everything near it. I close my eyes tightly, wishing I wasn’t here. My body convulses, causing me to actually thrust into the fan more. As I scream, the loudest scream I think I’ve ever screamed, I begin to taste blood. I’m covered in it. Chunks of muscle, womb and intestine are all over the bed. That whole area of my body begins to feel cold as I start to lose feeling there. My legs are completely disconnected, lying there dead on the bed. I feel cold phantoms where they should be.

I begin to feel wind and more stickiness on my face. I open my eyes and stop screaming immediately, seeing the fan right in front of my face. He stops holding down the button and the fan collapses again. “What did I tell you about screaming?” I just stare at him silently. “I asked you a fucking question, cunt!”

“Y- you told me not to.”

“Then why were you screaming?”

“It hurt too much not to scream.”

“Hurt too much?! You fucking bitch, if you keep this up, you’re not going to live to see tomorrow. Now bite off your pinky.”

I slowly put my right pinky in my mouth and start chewing on it as I stare at him with fear.

“No!”, he stammers, grabbing my jaw and holding my wrist still. He slams my jaw shut on my pinky three times. As he does so, he yells “Bite it! The fuck! Off!” This makes both my jaw and pinky sore, but is nothing compared to pain I’m already feeling elsewhere.

He lowers his mouth to my left tit. “Like this!”, as he digs his teeth into my tit around the nipple. As he digs in, my teeth clench around my pinky and my arm pulls back. My pinky rips off in my mouth and my arm snaps away from my face, hitting my assailant in the head. He glares at me, as he chews up my nipple. I bare my teeth to show the pinky in my mouth. I watch him chew for a little more before swallowing. “Eat it, you stupid fucking cunt!”

As I begin to chew, he goes back to eating my tit. I begin to lose some feeling throughout my body. Whether it’s from blood loss, or because there’s so much pain in so many places, or because of the disconnect I’m starting to feel with my body, I don’t know. Once my tit is gone, I’m spitting out the last of the bones from my pinky.

He looks at my mutilated pussy. “Fucking bitch. Look what you made me do! Now I can’t fuck your cunt. Sit up. Put your hands on the bed behind you to stay up.”

I hold myself up with my weakening hands, the fresh wound from my pinky leaking more blood onto the soaked sheets. “Please… Just kill me.”

“Look at all that blood! I already did kill you, you fucking whore! Your brain just don’t know it yet.” He brings the knife to my right tit and stabs straight towards me through the nipple. I let out a whimper. He pulls it back out and turns the blade, then does it again, creating a ‘X’ shaped wound. With my blood running down my tit and dripping onto the bed, he gets up and presses his dick against the wound until my tit gives way and begins to split, letting him in. This is all especially painful near the nipple, but the nerves seem to die within a few thrusts. He holds onto my shoulder to help hold me up as I go completely weak. I’m getting very tired and just want this to all be over.

I begin to get very sleepy as he fucks my tit. Each thrust seems to pull out more blood. “Oh yeah… I love titty-fucking big tit whores like you. So squishy around my dick.”

Once he cums in my tit, he picks up my legs and walks out of the room as I fall unconscious and die.

My boyfriend comes home to find a note on the table saying that there’s food in the oven for him and not to wait for me to start eating. My left thigh is roasting in the oven coated in honey and some of the spices from the kitchen. He takes it out of the oven, not knowing what it is, and begins to eat.

Once he’s finished, he goes to the bathroom and finds my feet in the garbage pail. Seeing that, he searches the house and finds me dead from blood loss and mutilated on the bed, blood splatter all over it, reaching the walls and ceiling. My legs are nowhere to be found. There’s a second note left here saying “Did you enjoy her thigh meat?”


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