My murderous torturing sexy self has been away for far too long. But I am back with a vengeance. I was sitting in my room cutting a gaping hole in my leg because I was bored and decided to go find some fresh meat. A nice human home-made meatloaf seemed in order. The local truck stop always has tasty lot lizards offering pussy. As I slunk in the shadows I saw a fat trucker forcing himself on a young hitch-hiker. He didn’t see me as my shiny scalpel came out and sliced his throat wide open. The pretty young thing was thanking me until she saw me lick the blood of the razor-sharp blade gashing my tongue in the process. She took off like a bolt. Her beautiful tits bouncing as she ran. I chased her happily until I caught her and slammed her pretty face into the ground. I turned her over and sliced off both nipples. She screamed the most perfect scream for me. My pussy started dripping as I sliced her mouth from ear to ear. Now the screams were muffled as I took my knife from my boot and started fucking her with the double blade. The stupid little bitch went into shock on me. I sat there for a moment feasting on the nipples I had carved off her. I was mad because she wouldn’t play anymore. I stomped her head in with my boots, over and over. I gathered her body and brought her back to my kitchen. She did grind up nicely for a meatloaf. As she was cooking I used some of her left-over blood to lube my fat dildo and fuck myself. I really need to find a nice cock that will kill with me.
My fascination for the profane has not stopped; rather, it has intensified. Some people would say that I am “blessed” to find such a kindred spirit in Francis; others would say that it’s the devil’s handiwork that we’ve found each other. Regardless, there will be our favorite dessert…carnage…in our wake!
I had planned to go into church for a victim, nothing special…just someone who was so stuck in her head that she didn’t see the wolf behind her. Really, I was bored and craving excitement. And, I certainly found it! My sadistic instinct told me to go around back to the church. And, I knew it: there was pain right behind that brick and mortar. I could almost hear the screams; when it comes to pain, my senses are like any wild animal.
Low and behold, the church was set-up much like my house…with the dungeon tucked nicely away from prying eyes. The door was ajar, which meant the victim was certainly indisposed (sly grin). But, when I turned the corner, I was looking at a nun accomplice! It was really too good to be true!
She seemed to be cooking the head of a woman in…yes, I’m fairly sure that it was a chalice. “Yes, my little one,” the nun said in a rather irritated voice. I asked her what she was doing with the tube in the woman’s mouth. “She’s being infused with seasoning, dear,” the nun said. As I admired her work, she seemed to tolerate my presence more. I began helping her prepare the body; she said that it was for a special friend of hers. “I underestimated your sinful nature. It’s quite unusual around here to see someone like you,” she said as I followed her instructions and crammed some carrots into the victim’s ass. “My name is Francis,” she said. And, I knew it was the beginning of a beautiful, wicked, twisted relationship.
It wasn’t planned, but it’s always planned! It should always be planned…I think. But, I saw her: she was perfect. Her breasts were real; she was thick in all of the right places; and she was tender (I could sense it!). It was early morning, and she was just running to her favorite coffee shop, I think. I needed help. I called my best friend, who was still sleepy. But, once I described her…he knew. He was coming. Now, all that I needed to do was keep track of her.
She was easy to watch: her hips bouncing, almost, to the beat of this flavor-ful drum that I had in my mind. It wasn’t jiggly, but it wasn’t too firm. I thought of someone special when I saw it…I will only say that his name begins with “R.” He would have loved just watching her move. But, I was keeping an eye on her while I waited; and, this wasn’t a chore at all.
She was still sleepy-eyed and this was the best. Maybe she had stayed up late, talking to her girlfriends. Maybe she was hung-over. I really didn’t care; but, I would find out later…just because I like to know things, especially lately. Anyway, she talked to these fake blondes and this guy that was cute (but definitely a steroid-user). I liked watching them, though; it was like a few dolls that weren’t quite real (but think that they are human).
They all, of course, fanned out. They had other “important” things to do. “My chick” (and I like calling her that) was walking back to her downtown apartment. She didn’t even sense or see it: I had put a stick in front of the alleyway. I helped her up…and then pulled her in. It’s one of of those gorgeous moves during the daylight; everyone’s either too tired or busy to care. And, there she was with me. But, my chloroform worked and she slid nicely into her space behind the back of the SUV.
At home, she was so beautiful. I really have never seen someone so sweetly tied to a chair. It wasn’t her body; it was her pose. She knew, just like a deer who had been captured and knew it was going to be gutted. I had to take pictures. I am quite obsessive with photographs, really. And, threw the lens, I kept capturing the moments of her struggle…and then her calm. And, my friend had appeared, just as I knew that he would. He was there. He admired her flesh, her robust flavor (because there was a little bit of blood that had spilled underneath the rope that tied her wrists to the chair). He was happy; I could tell not from a smile, but from the glow that spread across his lips. He was hankering for her…he already imagined her in olive oil and spices. I knew that the night was just beginning. And, I had this very nice recipe for a pussy-in-an-oyster.
The holidays are always a wonderful time for kidnapping! I took cues from a friend and got a group to stake out one of the old country roads around here. We had our great binoculars and were lying in wait for that one perfect meal…that one chubby girl who was going to unexpectedly have car trouble (courtesy of us). I was on the spying team; and, I knew it was her as soon as I saw the car. It was new; she had to be Daddy’s little girl; yep, not a scratch on the paint. And, there she was, listening to her booming music; our good fortune was already evident…she wasn’t on her cell phone. I radioed up the road; and, they threw down spikes.
I was eager to see if it worked; so, I ran up the street and the girl was in shock. Certainly, she’d never had a flat tire; they didn’t exist in her world. After being paralyzed, she got out of the car and looked around it until she found the source of the problem. She could see me as I neared her; and, she looked relieved. Of course, my sole reason must be to help her! I had to laugh at her… She started asking me for help; and, I told her that I actually was stranded, too. She was happy to have someone to bitch to…but unclear why I wasn’t sent there to be her savior.
I told her to hand me her phone, that I’d call someone. She happily obliged, glad that I was finally taking responsibility for her situation. Then, my three friends emerged from the trees and brush; it was quite easy to subdue her. I turned off the GPS on her phone; I decided to dispose of it later…I wanted to look through her pictures as she cooked and maybe ask questions.
At home, we were able to set her up in the oven (it was too hot to cook outdoors); and, I began talking with her about the pictures on her phone, her major in college, how she hated her sister (because the sister “got everything she wanted!”). It was humorous; and, I felt cheated when one of my friends came up to her and sliced off her arm. I asked what he was doing, to which he replied that he was making Bloody Mary drinks. He winked and said, “The legit kind.” I looked back at the girl; she was already dead from smoke inhalation; I looked at her driver’s license; her name was Martha, not Mary. I shrugged; well, the name was close enough; and, I wondered how she would taste with vodka.
I had been watching her for a few days; but, I knew tonight would be different. And, she didn’t disappoint me. She had a tall, thick companion with her. And, they seemed to gracefully walk through the night with a purpose that I was eager to know. It was a suburban home; there was no car there but a light. I already knew that they had scoped the house out; and, I guessed that the young boy had been left there in care of his babysitter while the parents went out on some kind of date…to the movies or wherever people like that go.
The walked up to the door, blending in with the night; the man stood away from the keyhole and Jade easily had the young school girl open the door. Then the game was on! It looked like she stuck the young teen with a syringe; and the girl collapsed. But before the girl hit the floor, the large man swooped her up. He crammed her in a duffel bag because she was so small. No one saw anything. I only saw it because I had night vision glasses. Following them in their van proved to be tricky. They took all the precautions to get to their destination, which ended up being an abandoned warehouse.
When they got there, they gave the girl some smelling salts to revive her when she was bound securely to a railing so that she could stand straight up. Then, they began playing with her, as if she was food on their plates. They told her what a whore she was, and they described how they were going to kill and fuck her in vivid detail. Then, the man cut away her jeans to expose her little pussy. He jammed his cock in her and looked at Jade. He pushed harder. “Yeah, this one is a virgin,” he huffed as he tried to get his dick all the way inside of her. “Oh, fuck, yeah, baby. That blood makes it feel real good. Keep bleeding, bitch,” he said as he pummeled her. Then, he and Jade both chose different weapons: a knife and a whip with spikes. They beat the girl until she was unrecognizable, just a piece of flesh in a large pool of blood. Jade and her accomplice kissed passionately. They were going to fuck right there. I watched for a little, enjoying the view of her mahogany skin and the way she was just as rough as he was. Then, I went home and pondered about what I’d seen. Even though I rarely mix sex and my playtime, I wondered if it might be something worth reconsidering.
“‘[W]hen all else fails, kill it with fire.”
–Larry Correia
I was visiting a few friends in California when one of the massive fires broke out. Instead of cowering and worrying, we descended on the city like dark angels…almost like sisters of the flames. It was the most gorgeous sights that I had ever seen. Our first adventure was together. We chose one of the houses on the lower side of town where the lower class lived. It was easy to spot our perfect target: it was a man in his 30s yelling at his little daughter (we assumed). The mother figure was angrily pulling clothes off the line, talking to herself and most likely complaining about her male companion.
The went inside the house and chaos erupted; yep, this was our natural selection of sorts. No one would think anything about them screaming, and no one would probably even miss them. We entered like angels from purgatory; we didn’t destroy the house because it already was in ruins. But, we did enjoy stabbing the grown-ups to their chairs; then, we bound them. We grabbed up the young ones; I can still remember the little girl’s face. Her eyes seemed to say that she had been waiting on me and wondered why I had taken so long. One of my friends took particular interest in the mother, whose belly sliced open like a nice, ripe melon. She didn’t have much time before the woman bled out; but, she was able to verbally and physically humiliate the woman.
Another friend and I wanted to pair the little girl and the male. There were other brats running around, but they were being taken care of; some were being beaten like dirty little objects, and others were being sexually assaulted like little whores. But, the girl…her name was Jasmine. He reached her little hand up toward my belt where my knife was. She waited for me to react; I handed it to her; she took it in her hands and straddled her bound father. She leaned down and whispered something in his ear. Then, without any hesitation, she stabbed him in the throat. She watched him gurgle his last breaths. I admired her; but, before I could do anything, my nearest accomplice scooped Jasmine up and slit her throat. I was a little sad, thinking my friend could have at least played with her a little more. She deserved that much. But, we set the house on fire and moved to the next one.
I’ve always wondered how far someone will go to save their own skin…literally. So, I devised an experiment for the sole reason to find out. It’s so easy to catch prey this time of summer; in fact, I snagged this one from her own backyard. In the middle of the day, most people are at work; and, she was sunbathing in her backyard. It was almost as if she was waiting for me.
So, I brought her back to my dungeon and took her bathing suit off with a few snips of the scissors. Then, I attached her to my contraption. I put on the strongest nipple clamps that I had; then, I attached them to a bucket with heavy rocks. She would be forced to keep her arms elevated in order to prevent that entire weight from being transferred to her nipple clamps. The weight and the force, combined, would definitely tear off her nipples if she dropped the buckets.
The first couple of minutes weren’t too bad; but, she was already showing signs of fatigue. Those shoulder muscles were getting tired; and I could see her hands and even knees shaking. It was the perfect time to explain the repercussions of dropping the heavy buckets. I informed her that the lower the buckets became, the more likely her nipples would be ripped from her body. She looked like she was going to be sick; but, the pain of holding the weighted buckets became her focus once again.
As a sort of stroke of genius, I added another attachment to the weighted buckets: this time, a clamp on her clit. Her eyes were wide. The clip was so tight that a little bit of blood was dripping from it already. She probably thought that she survived for days; but, it was only about thirty minutes. I sped things up by putting more weight in the buckets. Droplets of blood on her nipples and clit fell to the floor until they were pools. Her face was wet with sweat; and, she looked hopeless. I reminded her that it was all up to her…she could save herself.
Finally, I offered her a deal: drop the buckets, lose nipples and clit, and I will kill her swiftly; drop one of the buckets, lose a nipple and possibly her clit, and I will release her to live her own life. She sobbed, but finally, she just stared at her breasts. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, stepped back and dropped everything. She screamed in agony as the flesh was torn from her body; I bent over and slit her throat, watching the scene as she bled out.
I recently made a new friend of sorts; her name is Clarissa and she claims to be a vampire. I came across her one night in the alley, standing over a lifeless, bloody body. I watched in silence as she devoured blood; but, I was curious as to why she wasn’t taking the meat to eat later. I followed her; and, before she opened the door to her house, she turned around and demanded that whoever was following her show her/himself. I waited, thinking she was crazy; but, no, she really knew that I was there. I stepped out from the bushes; and, as I moved in closer, I noticed an eerie (but not unattractive glow to her skin). She invited me inside; I put my hand on the handle of the switchblade that was in my pocket. I didn’t really know what to think of her, but I would not be caught off guard.
She asked if I wanted anything to drink, but I told her that I was fine. She said, “Suit your self,” and she pulled out a vile of red liquid that I knew was blood…because of its distinct smell that I knew so well. She began sipping, telling me that her hunger had finally calmed down but that she needed to make sure it completely tapered off so she could get some work done. Her skin looked pasty with a yellow tint; and, when she smiled, I saw the distinctive fangs that everyone imagines when they hear the word “vampire.” But, I also knew that many people were having cosmetic surgery to look like vampires, too.
I listened as she told me about her previous life and how she easily worked as a computer technician from home, making tons of money that she never spent on food or other stupid things that humans required. I wasn’t sure if I believed all of what she said; but, she was entertaining enough to keep around for a little bit. I figured, though, one day, I’d have to find out if she immortal after all.
The ex-husband, who had solicited my help to snuff his wife, hadn’t heeded my warnings. He had insisted on just tying her hands with rope that he brought (apparently it had some kind of sentimental meaning to him). But, the evil bitch had chewed through the dainty rope, which looked much like an accessory to a wedding gown, and fled. So, when we returned to the basement after a heated argument about him not following my directives, she was gone. There was no exit in the dungeon; and, she had not come upstairs; so, we decided that she had to be somewhere in the large basement. This is precisely why I do not take on clients from friends!
I thought about one moment; and the next moment, I was in action. I ran upstairs and locked the door to the basement. I’d let them fight it out. I made myself comfortable in my library, where my surveillance cameras were catching all the movements downstairs. And there she was: hiding in a small crevice where the basement tunnel turns a little. She had nowhere to go, and she knew that now. Her macho ex was pounding on the door, angry and impatient for me to return. I just scoffed at him. I smiled as I noticed the reflection of a shiny object that hit the camera; the woman had a razor blade that I had set on the table.
The stupid buffoon of a man was charging forth, armed with only his anger. He searched for the woman, probably expecting her to be cowered somewhere and crying. But, I could see her head tilt; she heard his footsteps. I leaned closer to the monitor; when he rounded the corner, she lunched at him from behind so that the blade struck his neck. She struggled to free the blade and then continued stabbing him. She stood there for a long time and then dropped the blade as if she knew she’d be okay.
I quietly unlocked the door and allowed her to stumble, bloody and sweaty, into the upper level of the house. I told her that I hadn’t meant for any of this to happen; she fell on me and cried. “Yes, I know. Kam is such an asshole. He used you, too, and threatened you. I know.” I acted sympathetic; she didn’t even reach for the door. She was so close to the outside world. But, alas, as she pulled away from me with a smile, I sliced her throat. The blood trickled and then gushed. I had thought about torturing her, but I did enjoy the look in her eyes as she died. She knew: she had nearly escaped.
One of friend’s girlfriend’s birthdays was this weekend. So, I decided to do something different to shock the hell out of her. I knew that she hates being scared with a passion…and she also hates clowns! So, all of us got together and bought all the Jack in the Box toys that we could find. Then, her boyfriend, Jason, wired them to be sensitive to movement. It’s great to have clever and mechanically-minded friends! We didn’t have to put up surveillance cameras to see her reaction because, unbeknownst to his girlfriend, Jason had already installed them because he got off on spying on her.
She vanilla and didn’t know about the unusual delights that Jason and I enjoyed. So, he decided the best way to tell her would be to show her…and scare the shit out of her while doing so. Jason had just stalked and killed a really lovely plump piece of prey; in fact, she looked a lot like Jason’s girlfriend now that I think about it. And, we had feasted on her for the last few days; it was a gift to me since I had been sick. We took little pieces…like the ears, a few fingers, and bloody jewelry…and placed it on top of the clown that jumped out of the box; that way, when it popped open, she wouldn’t be able to avoid the gruesome sight.
We boarded up the house and sat in the attic, enjoying the show. As expected, she nearly jumped out of her skin. And, the first body part that she found was an eyeball that was still attached to the socket. By the time that she had opened nearly all of the toys and seen Jason’s handiwork, we went downstairs; she was crouched in the middle of the floor, sobbing and sitting in her own vomit. Jason picked her up and tied her to the chair. He retrieved a portion of our feast from his fridge; and he gave her a rather nice slice that make my mouth water. She refused to open her mouth until he clenched her nose between his fingers. He forced the meat down her throat and he smiled, “Now you’re one of us. Whether you like it or not.” She didn’t last much longer that weekend because we started carving her flesh and couldn’t stop; it was pity for Jason, but she did taste delicious.
