"Rite of Passage - story (debreast) tomb raider fanfic"
By robblu (https://pastebin.com/u/robblu)

URL: https://pastebin.com/0PsrpSiM
Created on: Friday 1st of July 2016 03:30:28 PM CDT
Retrieved on: Saturday 31 of October 2020 03:33:02 AM UTC


Rite of Passage - story (debreast)
« on: February 17, 2014, 11:13:50 AM »
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Hey all, so I just spent the afternoon watching someone play Tomb Raider. Decided to spend the last couple hours just slapping together a quick fic. This is based on an idea someone mentioned in a thread, that I don't believe anyone ever expanded on...

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Rite of Passage

Lara looked at the altar in front of her, her eyes gleaming at the treasure on it. A beautiful dagger rested atop an ornate dais. She stepped forward carefully, testing the floor for traps. There were none, and she finally reached the altar. This was a dagger used by an ancient tribe of female warriors, possibly the original source of what became the Amazon myth. From the ancient texts she had found, it was used in some sort of rite of passage, but she had no idea what. That was something that could come later. Right now, Lara was focused on getting the dagger and getting out.

She reached out, touching the dagger lightly. It was a pale blade, with an intricate gold handle. She took hold of it, picking it up and appreciating the way it caught the light from a hole high in the ceiling. A sudden click from the dais caught Lara's attention. She looked down just in time to see the dais raise up slightly, and whipped her head back to the door to see a stone coming down, blocking her exit. "Shit!" Lara made a dash for it, but it was pointless. The stone rang out with an echoing thud as it shut off her means of escape.

Lara glanced around fearfully, afraid there was more, but the only effect of removing the dagger seemed to be to stop her from leaving. Still an effective trap, as it would just make her death one of starvation. She'd gotten out of worse pickles however, and given enough time she was certain she could find a way out of here. She looked up at the skylight. Too far to reach.

Turning her attention to the dagger, she admiringly ran her thumb along the blade, gasping as she felt a sharp pain. "It's still sharp! No sign of rust at all." She glanced at her thumb, expecting to see blood flowing across her palm. There was none. A red line streaked across her digit where she had cut, but there was not a drop of blood to be seen. "This is incredible!" She exclaimed. Taking the dagger she put the point on her palm and sliced a small cut across it, wincing at the pain. Again, not a drop of blood escaped, the dagger still clean. This was an incredible find. She couldn't wait to reveal her discovery to Sam, waiting for her back on the mainland.

First things first, though, she had to find a way out. She made her way back to the altar, looking any signs of... well, anything. There was a wide section on the far side of the dais, with a strangely shaped depression in it. Walking around the altar, she realised it was designed to hold two spherical shapes. She studied it closely, noticing two smaller indentations, one inside each of the spherical ones. She gasped as she realised what the shapes were. It was an inverted pair of breasts! The altar was like a mould, designed for a woman to bend over it, resting her breasts inside the holes. Even the top of the altar was ergonomically curved, to cradle her torso. But for what purpose?

Lara idly wondered if it was anything to do with the door. She put her hand inside the holes, pushing on the curved depression. It didn't appear to be a pressure plate. Maybe it didn't even do anything. Lara blushed as she considered putting her own breasts in it. It obviously had some sort of ceremonial use. 
Patting the dagger on her palm as she looked around the room, she couldn't see anything else to try for the time being. What harm could it do to re-enact their ritual what she waiting for inspiration to strike?

Placing the ceremonial dagger on the altar beside the depression, Lara slipped off her backpack and dropped it to the floor. Then, crossing her arms and grabbing the hem of her top, she lifted it up and stripped it off. She dropped it on her backpack and reached up behind back, unclipping her bra. Her breasts bounced free as she slipped it off, dropping it with the rest of her gear. She gave them a squeeze, enjoying the sensation. She was proud of her breasts, the envy of many women she met. Not Sam, though. Sam loved Lara's breasts almost as much as she did.

Lara leaned over the altar and lowered her breasts into the depression. She gasped as they came into contact with the cold stone, settling into place. Suddenly she heard a click. Her heart started beating faster. Was this a way to open the door after all?

She didn't have to wait to find out she was wrong. She heard the what sounded like a blade being drawn from a sheath, and suddenly there was a blinding agony in her breasts! Lara screamed and tried to pull away from the altar, but the movement only caused more pain, deep in the centre of her tits. Her beautiful breasts had been impaled!

Lara cursed to herself quietly, racking her brains for a way to get out of this. She couldn't reach the spike penetrating her soft meaty orbs as it was inside the indentation. She looked at the knife. "Oh my god." she whispered. This was the ritual. The tribe of Amazons. A-mazos. 'Without breast'. This was the origin of the myth about Amazon warriors cutting off a breast when they became warriors, and they used this ritual knife to do it without the risk of bleeding to death.

Well, Lara had no intention of debreasting herself. "I'll find a way..." She stopped. What was that sound? A roaring, getting louder. Suddenly hug spouts of water shot up from the floor, making a pair of fountains. The water quickly started to puddle around her feet in the small chamber. Lara began to get afraid. She was now in danger of drowning if she didn't get free! She tried to push herself off the altar. If she ripped her breasts free at least she would still have them. She strained against it, screaming at the pain in her chest.

She gasped, her arms collapsing limply at her side as her strength ran out. This would never work. Even if she could tear her breasts from the depression, she would likely die from blood loss. Only the dagger could help her escape safely.

The water was up to her thighs. If she waited much longer it would be up to her waist, and with her bent over like this, her nose and mouth. She picked up the dagger, her mind reeling at what she was about to do to herself. She remembered how Sam had played with them only a few days ago, kissing and licking her sensitive nipples. Now she was about to lose them.

Lara shook her head. She couldn't die here. Sam would forever wonder what became of her. Her grip tightened with determination around the dagger handle, and she brought the blade to the top of her right breast. She didn't have to press hard - the steel cut into her soft flesh without resistance. Lara whimpered at first, but she was soon screaming at the top of her lungs as she sawed away along the base of her tit, the dagger cutting deeper into her body with each stroke. It may have stopped the spilling of her blood, but it did nothing to dull the agony of cutting off her breast.

Finally she finished, the blade severing the last bit of flesh that held her right tit to her chest. Half the job was done, and the water was pooling across the surface of the altar and spilling into the depression. She positioned the dagger at the bottom of her left breast. She was running out of time, and had to cut fast. Lara sliced into it, trying to keep her face above the waterline as she screamed her anguish into the chamber. 

She cut her remaining breast free quickly and stood up, almost losing her balance without the usual weight she was accustomed to. Lara looked down at her body in horror. Two red circular wounds decorated her chest where her breasts had been. She had not seen it so flat since she hit puberty, and the view was disconcertingly unfamiliar. Lara chastised herself. This was not a time to dwell on her loss, she could do that when she escaped. She looked up. She hoped the water would rise up enough to carry her to the skylight. She started towards it, and heard a click (a sound she was starting to dread) as she stepped off the area around the altar. She looked at her breasts as she heard a scraping sound. Was the skewer retracting?

She returned and reached down, taking one of her severed breasts in her hands. She lifted it up and it came out of the depression without resistance. Lara sighed. It was a catch-22. She could not free her breasts until she left the altar, but she had not been able to leave it while they were still attached to her.

She grabbed her backpack from the water and opened it up, stuffing her breasts inside. Maybe something could be done if she got to a hospital, although she knew it was a foolish hope. It was an odd feeling, putting her own body parts into her bag. She saw her top floating beside her and stuffed that in as well. Her eyes fell on her bra. "Not much point in taking that, I won't be needing it again." Lara sadly mumbled to herself.

The water kept rising, Lara treading it until she could finally reach up and grab the edge of the hole in the ceiling. She pulled herself up, letting out a cry of pain as her wounded chest scraped against the side of the brick construction. She rolled over, onto the roof of the temple, panting as she lay in the sun, letting it dry her. The water had stopped rising once it reached the ceiling. Lara was exhausted. She looked at her mutilated chest again. She could now see all the way to her stomach without any obstruction.

Reaching into her bag, she took out one of her breasts. She studied the fatty insides of her breast wistfully, a sight no woman ever wanted to see. Turning it over she looked at the top of it. It looked just like a normal breast from this side. She laid out her top and dropped the tit onto it with a wobble, pinching the nipple and shaking it sadly. Her normal, severed breast.

Suddenly she heard a noise. Glancing out to the bay, she saw the boat leaving. Lara jumped up, cursing. The damn captain had left her here! He hadn't wanted to come in the first place. She should have known better than to hire a local who was subject to the superstitions of the region.

Night fell. It was not a big island, and although Lara now had a source of fresh water in the former ceremonial room, there was very little foliage and no food at all. She didn't know how long she would be stuck here until Sam realised she was missing and sent a rescue mission. The captain she hired may not even report that he had left her behind.

She looked at her severed pale breasts sitting nipple up where she had left them. They had been dead too long to be reattached now, and soon they would start to spoil. They were nothing but meat. Lara's stomach growled as if to tell her she needed to cast her inhibitions aside if she wanted to survive. Resigning herself to a course of action, she got up and made her way around the small island gathering some wood for a fire.

She made her way back to the roof of the temple and pulled her lighter out of her pack. Making a pile of wood she lit it and before long had a blazing source of light, and more importantly, heat. She had kept a rather straight piece of wood back from the fire, and picking up one of her breasts, she placed it at the hole that had been made by the skewer. She pushed the wood through and held the tit on a stick above the fire, toasting it as though it were a marshmallow.

It took a while, with Lara constantly turning it to prevent it from burning, but finally her breast started to become crispy and golden, with wisp of smoke rising from the roasted surface of the boob. Lara took it off the heat and held it in front of her. Her mouth watered from the smell despite knowing what it was. She opened her lips and took a large bite out of the cooked breast, closing her eyes and savouring the taste of her own meat. It was delicious! She dug in eagerly, her reservations evaporating, and feasted on her own sexual organ. She chomped down on her golden brown nipple, sucking it like a baby momentarily, enjoying the juices that flowed out of the teat before biting the entire thing off, aureole and all, chewing it to a pulp between her teeth and swallowing the piece of her womanhood.

Before long, there was nothing left of Lara's breast. She had consumed the whole thing, every bite of breast disappearing down her throat. She couldn't believe how delicious her tit had been, and she realised with glee she had another one. There was still a bit of room in her belly, and she decided there was no point in letting perfectly good meat go to waste. By the time the fire had died down, Lara had devoured both of her breasts, and was looking up at the stars contentedly with a full stomach.

She had shed her pants at some point, and was absentmindedly playing with herself, enjoying the sensations of her fingers dancing along her entrance. She wondered if help would come tomorrow. She would have to find something to eat if it didn't. She slipped a finger inside herself and gasped as she thought of Sam. Her lover had told her many times how much she enjoyed the taste of Lara's pussy. Lara glanced at the dagger that lay beside her backpack, a naughty idea forming in her head...

END