[reaper0002000]

To be perfecty honest, I probably couldn't stand to watch it myself…!
I don't like slasher films, don't even read Stephen King, which is why doing this is such a creative stretch. As for the gore, my personal "ugh!" moment was earlier, when Mercy literally kicked a guy in half. Her foot sticking out through his back was the visual that got me.

Just realized I've never heard of a horror flick where the monster was a musclegirl.

For my part, I didn't intend this to be as big a twist as it apparently turned out. I'd written about Mercy's sister very early on, as a ten year-old when Mercy was four. And Grace was to have had her own subplot. But pooh.
Glad you guys liked it anyway.

Kind regards,
Reap

[reaper0002000]

Yeah, the genre has its own particular rules, huh?
Here's a tad more —

—–

…cont'd…

Mercy smirked at his reaction to her sizzling sex muscles, and lowered herself on him slightly. For her own amusement, she watched him buck his hips against her with increasing desperation, his fully erect penis ineffectually try to penetrate her insanely built, muscularly fanged pussy. The amazing girl laughed in derision — it was like trying to enter a bank vault with a piece of straw. That was how puny and fragile his genitals were compared to hers.

In utter contempt, Mercy flexed open her beastly slit to its full size, and the man gasped at the alien sight of her amazing, carnivorous second mouth gaping open. She rolled her hips, and with a single gulp, her powerpussy snatched and engulfed ALL of his organs into her sexual maw. He shrieked as Mercy devoured his entire sexual apparatus in her own super-evolved groinbeast. Sexually, she was far beyond human! “Is this what you want?” she hissed as she slowly started tensing her unreal vaginal muscles. Her amazing pussy bulged, the fanglike striations rippling and bunching visibly. He started to groan as the pressure became unbearable, but little did he realize that Mercy’s hairy mound of fuck muscle was exerting only the tiniest fraction of its strength, and she continued to effortlessly compress him.

The man struggled desperately to free himself, but even ten times his strength would have been pathetically futile against Mercy’s matchless musclepower. When he started to scream outright, Mercy closed her eyes and smiled blissfully, cocking her head to enjoy his agony. For what he had done, his screaming was music to her ears. Licking her lips, the vicious musclegirl allowed herself to clench her magnificent cunt. A blinding agony exploded from his groin as her ungodly love organ constricted itself into a solid granite hulk of otherworldly power, his trapped penis and scrotum not even providing noticeable resistance to the fearsome vaginal muscles of Mercy.

A single simple clench not only castrated him, but in a millisecond, she literally pulped and liquefied his genitalia within her powerpussy. Her crushing fuck vice was so immeasurably strong that his manhood was instantly pulverized into unrecognizable gristle, a smear that oozed out of her hellish slit like a paste. He stared at her in dazed horror as blood poured out of his amputated groin, unable to register his fate. As she opened her cobalt eyes to look implacably at him, Mercy’s smile widened; she wasn't done.

His sexual annihilation had been just for fucking Grace. What Mercy was about to relish doing was for taking Grace's life.

…to be cont'd…

[reaper0002000]

Hey Tigersan, nice to see you here — glad you liked how this went. Wish you could have seen my original text, but hey, that's life. By the way, my jaw dropped with your latest work. Apollonia was awesome. I encourage anyone who doesn't know what I'm talking about to take a look at Tigersan's gallery on deviantart.com — the man has some serious visual skills.

For what's it worth, I don't think Lupus was directing his dogs and cats comments to you or anyone in particular, but just as an example of how he doesn't get some things that people may find arousing. He picked one we can all probably agree on, methinks, even though I am cognizant how his point extends to killing living things (like, oh, people).

Best wishes,
Reap

[reaper0002000]

Glad ya'll found it interesting…!
Several things that you may wish to consider:

– Remember my comment earlier: You'll want him dead.

– This chapter was far more extensively constructed, comprising probably a third of the story in its original telling. Grace, now a minor character, was to have been exposited on in detail, with graphic descriptions of her and the psychologist's sessions. (Although she may not be Mercy, she has remarkable physical charms of her own. Insert your imagination here) Also, what Grace did to her associates at the Riverside Club to prompt her overdose, was to have been another key feature…

– If I get REALLY bored, I may do a full resurrenction of Grace's narrative as another entire story. But I wouldn't count on it.

– Mercy is seriously damaged goods. A lost sister. Molested as a kid. And to be perfectly honest, her prodigous intellectual and physical gifts are a setup for a huge deficit elsewhere. In my teeny weeny mind, there is an imperfect balance within each person, and if you have more in one or two areas, you're gonna have less somewhere else in your makeup. Mercy is not balanced, and a relationship with someone this unbalanced is always asking for trouble. She'll probably need years of therapy… and given what she is capable of, I'd suggest her initial therapist be female in gender.

– Of course it matches! ;D  It's not like I'm flying by the seat of my pants here. (Hey, why am I in the air and who took my trousers…?)

Much regards,
Reap

[reaper0002000]

But not THAT much of a snag. Here's the latest part rewritten; it's a little sketchy, having been recovered from the original version.

Best wishes,
Reap

…cont'd…

"Your choice…” Mercy breathed, her voice a smoky jazz riff of temptation. She eyed him, the sapphire in her eyes hotter than an acetylene torch. But what he thought was desire burned with more than just sexual heat. For what this same therapist had done with Mercy’s sister Grace six years ago had been enough to seal his fate….

Grace had just married her high school sweetheart and been invited to Colorado Springs for the upcoming trials for the American track and field team. Already an amazing pole vaulter who had the ability to challenge even male competitors when she was on her game, it was obvious that Grace needed better mental preparation, and a psychologist had been enlisted to help. And “help” her he did, for Grace was as irresistible a girl as could be imagined – a tall, gorgeous blonde with a model’s looks and an amazingly muscled body that typified a pole vaulting machine come to life.  The broad shoulders and powerful arms, with a flaring, thickly muscled back sprouting from small hips. Pert breasts that sat on visibly powerful pecs, just above a deeply chiseled eight-pack. Long, sculpted legs that any athlete would covet. At 18 years of age, Grace was the perfect example of the perfect female athlete. The psychologist was absolutely smitten by her looks, and her therapy, if it could be called that, was intense.

The man was good at his craft, a master manipulator whose skills allowed his clients to succeed… and allowed him to succeed on his clients. It didn’t take long for him to make their sessions the height of pleasure in the back room, the pricking of the psychologist’s conscience no match for the lusty bounty of raw sexuality that Grace’s marvelous physicality could generate. Although she actually only had a fraction of the unreal mental and physical gifts that her younger sister absolutely overflowed with, Grace’s personality was almost the opposite of Mercy. Whereas Mercy was often inhibited and brainy – her shockingly muscular body notwithstanding – Grace was all about meeting people and going with the flow. She was no match for this pscyhologist, who cajoled and enraptured her… and then completely abandoned her when she left her husband for him. In less than a year, a young Mercy saw her older sister’s marriage dissolve, and then watched her go from Olympic hopeful spiraling down to an emotional wreck over an anonymous older man. Grace had been crushed, but she refused to say who she had left her husband over, even to own family. Busy as Mercy now was in academia, distracted as she appeared, Mercy knew… and she begged her sister to report him. But Grace resisted, preferring instead to drown her sorrow by partying with a wild crowd from the Riverside Club.

Of course, one thing led to another, and soon Grace was involved in a heady mix of substances that she’d never dream of using, and with a set of rough companions she’d never dream of befriending. After yet another sky-high fling landed her skidding through the legal system, she told Mercy that she finally reported her old therapist, and mentioned the name of a man from Justice who said that a high-level investigation would be launched. Even as a mere 12 year-old, Mercy had stared at her older sister, her tears spilling at the sight.

While Mercy had grown ever more powerful, her hypermuscled physique the embodiment of untold physical ability, her blonde sister was a bedraggled shadow of her former self, even compared to a couple years back. Though her eyes were glassy, there was enough of a semblance of this Grace to the pole vault champion that Mercy knew, for even the most dangerous drugs available on the street couldn’t erase the genetically endowed physique that Grace possessed. Admittedly, the contrast in muscularity had always been noticeable between the two sisters, but now, when compared to her older sister… Mercy looked like she was a superior species — she was that muscular, despite being six years younger than Grace. Aside from the fact that both were simply gorgeous, they no longer even appeared to be related when they were together. Well, it was no matter. The teenaged Mercy wondered who could take Grace seriously, a criminal high on drugs, let alone someone from Justice. As she expected, nothing came of any investigation of the corrupt psychologist; there probably was no investigation, if Grace had reported anything at all.

Several years later, Mercy wept the night that Grace disappeared for good, though her raped, broken body was found in a persistent vegetative state near the Riverside. Grace had somehow apparently overdosed, and although her body would recover, the specialists said her mind would be another matter. Mercy dove into her studies and the gym with new meaning – these men, who used and abused, they would all pay for their choices. She would find them, and she would make them all pay.
 
The therapist made his choice by undoing his pants and sliding his underwear down, and then bridging upward. Even though his better judgment screamed at him – hell, his entire sense of survival was shrieking at him to look at what he was getting himself into, but the immediate needs of his own sexual desire were simply overwhelming. His needs, that had been so potently rewarded by countless episodes of pleasure in this very room, far outweighed the sane decision. He had indeed used up his measure of Grace, and in so doing, was at the Mercy of her sister, who was anything but her name. He gasped as his male wood came up against unimaginably pumped female iron.

…to be cont'd…[/size]

[reaper0002000]

Very nice.
Elegant, even.

I would expect nothing less from you…

Best wishes,
Reap

[reaper0002000]

No, my friend, not disruptive at all (at least to me), and nothing's "happened". This discussion continues, and with all due civility.

I thoroughly welcome your intelligence and how articulate you are, Lupus… As for what I'm referring to as tone, it is my belief that the written word does convey its writer's underlying approach, that subtle clues are eviden as to whether someone's enthusiastic, bored, narcisstic, humble, brittle, perjorative, easygoing, incredulous, and so forth. (I probably come across as hopelessly pedantic at this point!) And of course that's subjective as well.

It was my observation that sometimes forthright opinions, even those with solid knowledge behind them, cut a broad swath… if it's without the warmth, smoothness or light touch that would make those comments more effective by being less evocative. (And here's my own bias: I admit that I have taken pride in "being direct", and only lately have come to see that my comments/opinion could have been massaged into a more communicatively-successful form. The niceties and politics that I once deemed extraneous bring a disproportional weight to bear on getting my content listened to. Now I really am sounding pedantic, so I'll shut up.)

Again, only what I've seen here and elsewhere. I'm not offended, and hope you are not as well.

Onwards,
Reap

P.S. My ability to reconstruct my file has hit a… snag.

[reaper0002000]

You are right. But no one will really be on the side of the chainsaw killer. You will hardly see anyone cheer Freddy Kruger or Michael Myers and wooing "God, they are so damned sexy". And we all like happy ends, don't we?

Actually, there are LOTS of people "on the side" of the chainsaw killer out there. That's why you have sequels with the same nasty character doing the same nasty things over and over. And yes, if I throw in enough verbage about what makes someone physically irresistable to us readers here — muscles! — and even go as far as to appeal to the S&M segment as well, I bet that a fair number of people would grant a Yea to the question: "Is she sexy?"

Lupus, ya gotta come to grips with the idea that there are people who don't think like you do, and more importantly, don't have to, either. While you can accurately state that you're only expressing your own opinion, a lot of your comments have the tone of a SHOULD statement, which flavors your opinions unnecessarily with the (perhaps inadvertant) persuasion that people need to see things your way. They don't. And it raises their hackles. I'm coming out and saying this not because I dislike you or to attack you personally, but as a half-baked explanation why you've elicited strong reactions to your postings at times.

I'm with Lupus on happy endings, but allow that some others appreciate the non-happy ending. And what the happy ending is also subject to debate. A happy ending for someone might just be to see Mercy arrested, convicted, and sentenced…or simply killed. While others would find their happy ending having her wreck absolute carnage to the cops, and walk away unscathed.  Me, I like happy endings too, which is why I find it creatively satisfying to write things that oppose my normal tendencies…

Best wishes (and hope I haven't been too hard on you, Lup)
Reap

 

[reaper0002000]

Yah, I know the description of Mercy's Down There was a little repetitive from Es, but that was a nod at those who have have wanted something along those lines, it fit with the rest of her body, and climax of this last story.

As for her characterization, I make no apolgies: Mercy simply is what she is. If she's sickening to you, that's okay too. Though I think I'm right when I say she's a far more nuanced and complicated character than The Monster.

I've almost recovered the next part — I'm thinking sometime this week?

Best wishes,
Reap

[reaper0002000]

And that's fine! I'm gratified you've stuck with me this long, Lupus… like I've said, Mercy is certainly quite warped and there's no getting around it, but she has a nose for "evil-doers." Then again, her nose is likely too sensitive, and she takes things very personally.

I've wondered what would happen if Mercy directly told someone that they were sexy to her…

Huh.

(I would still NEVER tell her she's sexy, though.)

Reap

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