Warning: this story contains graphic rape and murder. Don't read it if this isn't your cup of tea. Conversely, if this is your cup of tea, so much so that you think you should try hurting someone in real life, please reconsider, as you are too stupid to get away with it and too soft for prison, where you will be raped more savagely than even my twisted mind could imagine.
If, however, you are somewhere in the middle, then please enjoy. Botched Ransom "How old are you, Chrissy?" asked the man. He was stroking her hand as he said it. "I'm twenty," she replied uneasily. She wanted to take her hand back, but was afraid of angering her captor.
He had a gun tucked into the back of his pants that she dared not make a move for. "Twenty," he said thoughtfully, "so young". For a moment he remained silent, savoring dark thoughts. "Oh, to be twenty again," he continued. "You must have a lot of fun, a young good looking girl like you.
Do you go out to the clubs much?" "Um… yeah, I guess. Sometimes." "I'll bet you do. I'll bet you wear a nice short dress to show off those sexy legs of yours." He placed a big gnarled hand on her bare knee.
"You don't mind me saying that, I hope? You do have superb legs." He gave her knee a squeeze. Chrissy forced herself to smile. "Thank you," she mumbled. "I'm thirty-two, by the way." After this there was a long, awkward silence. Finally Chrissy broke it by asking a question. "Where did the other guy go?" "Marco? He's checking up on your story. He's still hoping we have the right Chrissy Rodriquez, the millionaire's daughter." "No, I told him," said Chrissy, "I'm poor like everybody else.
These are outlet clothes." "I know, I believe you." What he didn't say was that he hoped against hope that she wasn't rich, that she was just some girl off the streets who nobody would miss. He eyed her lecherously. She was short, just about five-foot two, and petite. She had a slightly imperfect nose and a rather weak chin, but full, luscious lips and big dark eyes. The smooth brown skin on her arms was prickling with gooseflesh, either from cold or fear, and he stoked her.
"He should be back soon and we'll figure out what to do next then." After another five minutes, the man asked, "Do you have a boyfriend, Chrissy?" She gulped. "I do," she said, again forcing her smile, "His name is Robbie." "Get out!
My name is Robbie!" She tried to chuckle. "Hey, now that we know each other a little, there's no need for formality. Why don't you take those shoes off and relax." "Oh… I'm okay…" "Nonsense." He grabbed her feet and moved them onto the couch, where he started to untie her flats. He slipped them off and started to massage her feet. They were small, like the rest of her, especially in his big hands.
His hand had started to move up to her calf when the door opened and Marco walked in. The newcomer looked disapprovingly at Robbie. "What's going on here?" he asked. "Oh, nothing," said Robbie cheerily. "We're just getting to know each other. So what did you find out?" Marco sighed. "We took the wrong girl. She's telling the truth. She's nobody." "I tried to tell you," said Chrissy. Marco glared back at her. "She did try to tell you," said Robbie with a big grin.
"Hey, Chrissy, stay here for a minute. Me and the boss-man have to chat. Marco didn't look like he wanted to chat, but Robbie led him into the kitchen, just out of earshot of the girl, but close enough that they could keep an eye on her. "I think you know what I want to do," said Robbie with a smile. Marco scowled. "Why don't you enlighten me?" "Look, you know we have to kill her anyway, right? I mean, we can't just let her go. So let me have some fun with her first." "It wouldn't be professional," Marco replied.
"This wasn't meant to be a kidnapping for pleasure." "Professional? Dude, there was never anything professional about this operation. We fucked it up. There's nothing we can do about that now.
So let's make the best of a bad situation and have ourselves a proper snuff party!" "I don't know…" Robbie sighed. "Look at her, he said." They both looked at Chrissy sitting on the couch, her slender legs curled up underneath her.
"Like I said, she's gonna die one way or the other. Why let her go to waste?" After a final moment of consideration, Marco relented. "Okay.
Have your fun with her. Just make sure you put a bullet in her brain when you're done." "Oh, no," Robbie said gleefully. "I've got plans of my own." "So long as she's dead." Robbie returned to the other room. "Get up, Chrissy," he said. "We're going to the bedroom." A look of panic entered her eyes, and she looked to Marco for help. "But why?" "Oh, I think you know why," Robbie replied. He pointed the gun at her. "Move." As they disappeared into the bedroom, Robbie yelled out, "you're welcome to join us!" "Enjoy, my friend," whispered Marco.
--- Robbie closed the door and made Chrissy sit on the bed. "Please don't do this," she begged. Her legs were trembling. Robbie opened a drawer and produced a pair of handcuffs. "I've got good news and bad news, honey," he said, pulling her arms behind her back and cuffing her wrists together.
"At least for you. It's all good news for me… We know you're telling the truth, so we're not going to hold you for ransom." She began to cry, perhaps anticipating what came next. "But we can't let you go… So I'm going to kill you. But first I'm going to fuck you raw." She was sitting on the edge of the bed and he pushed her into a lying position. Then he moved his hand between her legs, up her skirt, and grabbed hold of her panties.
"Wait!" she cried, trying to delay the inevitable, "Stop! Let's talk about this! We can make a deal!" "You have nothing to trade, Chrissy. The only thing you have that I want is right here." He pulled her panties down to her thighs, then ripped them off completely. She tried to sit up, but he put a hand on her stomach and pushed her on her back again.
He hiked her skirt above her hips and lowered his head into her crotch, enjoying the smell and the feel of her womanhood. With one palm planted against her flat stomach and the other hand firmly grasping her ass, he began to eat her out. His tongue probed her furtively at first, as if introducing itself. Then, as it gained confidence, it grew bold and began to lap at her like a thirsty dog.
He moved both hands to her pussy and spread her sex lips, marveling at the gaping pink delight awaiting him. It was time for a fuck. He knew that the first time he fucked her he probably wouldn't last long, but that the next (and probably last) time would be better. He fondled his already hard cock to its full length, then grabbed Chrissy by the hips and pulled her ass to the edge of the bed.
He then positioned his cock between her labia and gave a mighty thrust. She screamed out in pain and humiliation as he entered her, but he paid no mind. Instead, he began to push himself in and out of her, working his way deeper with each successive thrust. "Oh, that's good, Chrissy," he remarked. "Chrissy's got a tight little cunt." Something about this phrase exited him, and he kept repeating it as he fucked her. "Chrissy's got a tight little cunt," he muttered, "Chrissy's got a tight little cunt." After about the five minute mark his cock was tingling like mad and he knew that release wasn't far off, so he picked up the pace, thrusting faster and faster, deeper and deeper.
Finally he couldn't hold back any longer. He felt the cum rising in his balls and into his dick, and then he exploded. He continued to pump frantically into her for the next thirty seconds until he was completely dry, then finally pulled out. There was a bathroom adjacent to the bedroom and he needed to use it. Leaving the door between the two rooms open, and taking the gun with him, he took a piss.
When he came out he found Chrissy curled up on the bed in the fetal position. "Poor thing," he said. "And we're not done yet. I'm afraid the worst is yet to come." He went back to the dresser drawer and brought out a length of rope. "Now the real fun starts." --- Marco had been listening to the sounds coming from the bedroom with a combination of repulsion and fascination.
Part of him felt bad for the girl. She seemed nice enough. Certainly she didn't deserve to die like this. But with each feminine scream, each girlish whimper, his pity became more and more engulfed by sadistic delight. He had noticed how pretty she was right away, of course. The moment they kidnapped her he had appreciated the curve of her waist under her shorts, the healthy glow in her cheeks, the depth of her beautiful brown eyes. Unlike his partner, he had avoided indulging in sexual fantasies until now.
But the pitiful noises she was making now painted a graphic picture in his mind that was driving him wild. He imagined her firm, naked breasts mauled, her slender throat crushed, Robbie's cock fucking her dying mouth. He turned on the TV to try to get her off his mind, but he could still hear her cries. He didn't want to cross the line he was walking. It was one thing to kill someone out of necessity, but it was something else to do it for pleasure.
He had never considered himself an evil man. A criminal, but not an evil man. He knew that if he allowed himself this pleasure, he would never be able to go back to what he was. Still, Robbie had a point. One way or the other, the girl would have to be killed. Did it ultimately matter how it was done? Her suffering wouldn't really be that long, a few hours at most, and at least someone would get some pleasure out of it.
Besides, Robbie was already raping her, that deed couldn't be undone.
He would be just as guilty if he let Robbie defile her as if he did it himself, only he wouldn't have as much fun. As if on cue, the anchorwoman on the TV started reporting on a girl who had been found dead. The seventeen year old had been raped and had her throat slashed. Her body was found nude under a bridge. That was the end of the story, it took ten seconds. Afterwards the anchorwoman cheerfully reported on a dog that had found its way home across three countries.
Marco realized just how lucky he was to be living in a city that devalued human life as much as it did. Women disappear everyday, and no one ever misses them. Chrissy was about to join their ranks. He took a deep breath, deciding once and for all. Yes, he was going to facilitate her passage. He approached the bedroom door with a rising sense of anticipation.
Chrissy's whimpering became louder as he got closer, and her found himself getting an erection. He paused a moment at the door. This was his last chance at salvation. He pushed the door open. Chrissy was entirely naked now, her clothes lying in a heap on the floor.
Robbie had her hogtied, lying face down on the bed. He had a length of rope about ten feet long, one end of which ended in a crude noose around her neck. The rope ran down her body to the end of the bed, then traveled back under the bed, forming a pulley that ended in Robbie's hands.
Every time he pulled, the rope dug into Chrissy's neck and she couldn't breath. He was making her give him a blowjob, allowing her to breath only when she sucked. Her pretty face was streaked with tears. They both looked at Marco and Robbie slackened the pressure on the rope. "Heeelp me!" Chrissy sobbed. Marco just stood there, awestruck at the sensuality of the young woman, prone and vulnerable as she was, her limbs awkwardly secured behind her back.
"He's going to kill me!" she pleaded. Marco walked into the room and hesitantly stroked her naked ass. "I can see that," he replied. She ignored his hand, hoping to gain an ally. "Please… Please stop him!" Marco grabbed her by the hair. "Get this into your head, bitch: YOU ARE GOING TO DIE TONIGHT! Okay? No one's going to come to your rescue at the last moment, no prince in shining armor.
No happy ending for Chrissy. Me and my friend are going to rape you and we're going to kill you. Do you understand?" She broke down into sobs. Robbie looked surprised as well. "What got into you?" he asked. Ignoring him, he sat down on the bed and spread the girl's ass cheeks.
"Have you fucked this hole?" "No, not yet. Have at it." He unzipped his trousers and pulled them down to his hips.
"I thought you were the good one!" Chrissy cried. "How can you do this?" "You thought wrong," replied Marco. "You'll go to jail for this, you know! And then you'll be executed!" "Possibly. But that'll be too late for you." With that he slowly pushed his cock into the girl's rectum. It wasn't easy, but with the help of some saliva he got it in.
He fucked her like that for a while, but it was awkward so he pushed a couple of pillows under her pelvis to raise her ass up. That was much better. He worked himself into a nice rhythm, his fingers digging into her thighs for grip, his waist grinding into her relentlessly. Occasionally he would reach under her and finger her pussy, not for her pleasure, of course, but for his own. She cried and complained through the whole ordeal.
"Don't worry, Chrissy," he said, "it'll all be over soon enough." "I'll be right back," Robbie said, heading for the door. "Don't kill her yet. I want to watch." Marco didn't respond. He was too busy enjoying himself. He wondered how he had gone nearly forty years without experiencing such a distinctive pleasure. Simply knowing that he was about to murder the girl exponentially increased the pleasure of fucking her.
She couldn't see him reaching for her, so she was surprised when his hands wrapped around her throat from behind. She started to cough and gasp for air almost immediately.
Marco enjoyed the sounds she made, the soft, feminine whimpers. Still fucking her asshole, he tightened his grip still further, completely cutting off her airflow. After a few seconds of this she was panicked, squirming futilely beneath him. He began to wonder if he could coincide his orgasm with her death throes.
Just then Robbie re-entered the room carrying a miniature gardening chainsaw he had gotten from his truck. "Dammit, man, I said don't kill her yet." Marco released his grip and Chrissy sucked deep breaths of air. "We're not going to kill her with that," he said. "I know that, it's for after. We'll move her into the tub and dismember her." "Alright, but that thing was built for pruning.
I don't know if it'll do the job." "It'll work fine, she's thin." Marco shrugged his shoulders. He didn't appreciate the interruption, especially because it could have waited until he was done.
Now the girl had recovered and he would have to strangle her all over again. Which, now that he thought of it, was perhaps not such a bad thing after all.
He took the opportunity to rest his hands, which were starting to cramp a little, and to pull his cock out of her asshole. Her ass was nice, but he wanted some pussy as well. Keeping her on her stomach, he simply switched holes, sliding himself into her cunt doggie style. Chrissy was so demoralized at this point that she didn't even protest. Not wanting to use his hands to strangle her, Marco rearranged Robbie's noose to make a suitable garrote.
It was too thick really. A garrote should be thin to put more force on a smaller area. But all that meant was that the girl would die more slowly, which was okay with him. "This is it, sweetheart," he whispered in her ear, eliciting a delicious whimper of fear. He pulled the rope tight and it dug deep into her throat, causing her to make coughing noises.
He started fucking her pussy harder, enjoying the friction of her flesh as he slid in and out of her.
Meanwhile, Robbie had pulled out his dick and was masturbating furiously from a chair, staring intently at Chrissy's agonized face. Marco tried not to look at him as he found it off-putting. After about five minutes Chrissy started wheezing, or trying to. Every once in a while she would manage to snatch a tiny breath, but it wasn't enough to keep her going. Marco could feel her weakening, and it turned him on even more. He fucked her like he had never fucked anyone in his life.
Furiously, brutally, he rammed his tingling member into her pussy again and again. Marco briefly wondered if she felt any pain down there, or if the burning agony of the strangulation overwhelmed all other senses. It didn't really matter to him one way or the other.
Soon enough she wouldn't feel anything anyway. Her face turned bright red as the ordeal went on, and her eyes started to roll up into her head. Her tiny pink tongue began to dart wildly out of her mouth, desperate for oxygen. Both men knew it was only a matter of time now. Fucking her as hard as he possibly could, Marco finally felt her death throes.
That sent a powerful ripple of pleasure through his body and he came so hard that he couldn't help but cry out. It took thirty seconds of pumping before his balls were completely evacuated into the now dead girl, and by the time it was over he was more satisfied than he had ever been in his life.
After a moment's rest, he pulled himself out of her and rolled her over. Her jaw hung loosely open and her eyes stared glassily into space. He knew she was dead, but just to be safe he put a finger to her wrist and checked for a pulse. There was none. It was over. Just then Robbie ran up to the bed, still jacking himself off. He had been a little behind Marco and was now ready to ejaculate. He grabbed Chrissy by the head and shoved his cock into her unresisting mouth.
After five firm thrusts he came, then dropped her head back onto the mattress. His cum, mixed with her saliva, ran back out of her mouth and onto the bed-sheet. The men rested for a few minutes, not speaking. Finally Robbie picked up the chainsaw. "Well," he said, "I guess it's cleanup time." She was light enough that Marco had no trouble lifting her.
He carried her to the bathroom, her limbs hanging limply, and dropped her unceremoniously into the bathtub. Then he turned the shower on hot. Robbie had the pruner saw running already, but Marco wasn't ready for it. He had Robbie get some bleach from the laundry room. While he was gone, Marco removed the girl's wristwatch and earrings and slipped them into his pocket. They would probably bring him something at a pawn shop. He then used the detachable shower nozzle to clean the corpse as thoroughly as he could.
When Robbie returned, Marco tilted the girl's head back and filled her mouth with bleach. He let it sit there for five minutes, then rinsed her mouth out with the nozzle.
"Time to gargle," Robbie remarked. Marco ignored him. He spread her labia as wide as he could and poured bleach into her pussy, then did the same to her anus. After a suitable amount of soaking time had passed, he began to rinse her out.
Since she was dead, their was no need to worry about hurting the poor girl, so he pushed the nozzle as far into her vagina as it would go. That turned out to be quite far, and he had to pull hard to extract it when he was done. He repeated the process with her anus, giving her a thorough rinse there as well. "I don't think I'll be using this shower anymore," commented Robbie.
"Or at least not this nozzle," replied Marco. They decided that she was as clean as she was going to get and that it was time to get down to business.
Robbie grabbed her left ankle and lifted her leg out of the tub, positioning it so as to give Marco the best possible angle. Marco brought the pruner saw to where her thigh met her pelvis, then pressed down, letting the saw do the work.
Although it wasn't a true chainsaw, it was surprisingly effective, gnawing through the girl's flesh and tendons with ease. Marco could immediately tell when it hit her thighbone, because it started to stall. He was persistent, though, and after less than a minute he suddenly felt the resistance give way as the saw burst through the bone.
In a few seconds it cut through the rest of her leg meat and Robbie was left holding a severed leg. "Mmmm," he said, biting into the thigh. "Drumstick." "How fucking old are you again? "I'm just playing." "Well, stop. We've got work to do." "Hey, but look at this," he said, still holding the leg and pointing to the girl's cheap little ankle bracelet.
"I'm going to keep this. As a souvenir of our too short time together." "Again, we've got work to do." He lined the saw up against the girl's neck and began to cut.