Cannon Fodder Steam Novels & Stories

⁠“I’m afr‌aid of nothin‍g.” Hours later, alarms screamed through the co‍mpound, information reaching us that one of⁠ our ship was engulf‍ed in flames,⁠ tearing apart at th⁠e d‌ocks with me‍n screaming, metal warping and wate‍r sw‌allo‍wing‍ bodies.

The steam twirls upward shaping letters in midair standing ten feet high suspended like glowing neon: THE TIMER BEGINS WHEN SHE BLEEDS. Isla hasn't lost a single baby tooth up, to now. I sense the fury swell, sharp and pure the fury that pushed me through Kandahar through the warehouse through the night I ripped the ledger in two. I hoist the rifle switch the selector to fire and step directly into the steam. Does the city wish to speak? Fine. Lets have a conversation. I am engulfed by the steam. I descend three floors through a haze and arrive on a platform that didn’t exist yesterday.

'If I did not need them as cannon fodder, they would already be dead. Outwardly, he shrugged with an easy show of mercy. "It's fine. I'm a kind person. I forgive them." Firepower sat in his hands now. Moving as he pleased felt natural. Chloe clutched Kenneth's arm, her gaze flicking toward Cyrus with fear. 'Kind… Right, if you say so.' "Let's go," Cyrus said. He walked off with his pistol in hand, each step sharp and absolute. His preparations were nearly finished. His cannon fodder would not be needed much longer. And even if a few survived the conflicts ahead, he would clear them out later. Most of them, if not all.

It was huge—tall enough and wide enough to hide fifteen full-grown warriors inside its hollowed-out belly. It looked like a legitimate weapon of war, something any Alpha would be proud to display in their courtyard. “Iron Howlers! Get ready!” Lennox’s voice boomed across the clearing. The warriors let out a low, guttural shout. One by one, we began to climb into the hidden compartment. It was cramped and smelled of fresh pine and oil. “Blankets on,” I whispered as I took my spot near the front. We pulled the heavy, black wool blankets over our heads. We had to be perfectly still. If the Ravaryn guards checked the mouth of the cannon, they had to see nothing but shadows.

“They’ll burn you to ashes... I’m sorry... Really and really sorry...” smirked Virando intensely cynically. Virando swung his hand again. The seven rainbow candles met one another in the center point. They created such a hugely as well as massively blazing flame. The flame soon burnt the soldiers, fighters as well as generals from West Medicine Land to dark grey ashes. “Aaaarrgggghhhkkk!!!” All the soldiers’, generals’ as well as fighters’ tenor eight-octave squealing and squeaking were audible first before all of them were finally burnt to their quietuses, merely leaving their dark grey ashes.

WARNING Explicit stepmother/stepson incest (he calls her "Mom" while he's balls-deep) • Raw cheating on the husband/father • Rough degrading sex: choking, slapping, spitting, hair-pulling, "slut" talk • Bareback creampies, facials, swallowing • Almost-getting-caught adrenaline • Age-gap filth + forbidden obsession Arranged-marriage jealousy and heartbreaking goodbye sex This is NOT romance. This is pure, dripping, no-limits taboo erotica. About "Hooked on his Dick" One open door was all it took. Natasha walks in on her stepson Noah stroking the biggest cock she's ever seen and instead of walking out, her panties soak through. From that second, they're doomed. Secret quickies while Dad

😂 “Writing someone off as cannon fodder, you-you…bwahahaha!!!” Noah felt the need to clarify his words, “I meant, he has that cannon fodder vibe going on. You know, that vibe that makes one want to punch him right after meeting him for the first time? The kind that is good at pulling aggro from the onlookers? The kind that would be the first to die in a horror movie due to his pompous death-seeking overconfidence. The kind that, if they were in a revenge novel, would be the first the main character would get revenge on. The kind–“

Below, at the base of the cliffs, the North had deployed their new weapon: Steam-Siphons. They looked like gargantuan, brass-lunged beasts, anchored to the ground by thick silver chains. They roared with a mechanical fury, pumping super-heated, Rot-infused steam directly at my barrier. The ice wasn't just melting; it was being corrupted, turning into a grey, oily sludge that slid down the mountainside like a dying lung.

Arrows rained down, finding eyes, throats, hearts, but the things didn't stop, growing even fiercer by the minute. It was going to take a nuclear. One took five shafts through the skull before collapsing, its limbs still twitching toward the walls like a dying worm that had been sprayed with salt. "Fire cannons! Now! Steady⌨️, wait for the wind… now!" Dante's voice was barely recognizable, his vocal cords shredded by the shift as he repeated his command over and over again, the blast of gunpowder and canons making its own dirge. The world exploded in orange and heat as the first cannonball tore through the ranks. Chunks of rotting flesh splattered the courtyard below. A severed wolf head lan

I giggle. “Ah yes, another man with many rugs draped over his body masquerading as clothing. I fear that we may all die of a fashion emergency instead of another drought or war.” I smile and try to hold in my snorts, as the carriage enters a foggy forest, and Dante continues to mock every noble from the Wailing Coast to the Soundless Seas. “Lady Dyteria gave birth again,” I say, trying my hardest to be modest. One must be modest, after all, to set an example for the future lords and ladies I shall preside over.