The Day Autumn Broke

I first saw the cunt on the six o’ clock news. With a wide, pristine smile, Autumn Bell spoke about a chastity club she’d established at her high school. The caption under her listed her as a 16 year old junior. I’d heard of these clubs before, and shrugged them off assuming they were simply a bastion of bitches too ugly to give it away. The entire chastity thing was just an excuse for their repulsiveness. In this case, the truth of the matter was infuriating. The three girls were all remarkably attractive.

Autumn, the leader and founder of the group, had a beautiful blemish less face, long jet black hair, and milky white skin. She seemed to be wearing no makeup, her plump lips a natural peachy pink. Her eyes were almond shaped and emerald green, the lashes thick and long. The teen’s tits were large for her age, and two inches of cleavage taunted men at home. She had her legs crossed. Firm legs concealed in black nylon stretched from a brown knee length pencil skirt. The skirt gripped her thighs tightly, her curvy hips another tease directed at the viewing audience.

It had been less than two months since my last girl, and I hadn’t planned on another acquisition so quickly. But, as the girl continued to spout bullshit about the bible, my plans began to form.

“Intimacy,” the teen said, “should only be shared with the blessing of god.” The cunt was a tease, and she knew it. She probably got off on the thought of her male teachers and classmates knowing her perfect body was out of bounds. The deceitful cunt rubbed her clit at the thought of a man jerking off thinking about her. Her denial only made them want her more. She was dangling a bloody steak before a pack of starving dogs. It was only a matter of time before one of those dogs got fed up and pounced on her, taking not just the steak, but her entire fucking arm.

It was a lesson that she would have to learn.

I took less than 15 minutes to find the girl’s address. Thank god for Facebook. It made my job so much easier. I felt sorry for the men like me that got a thrill from the hunt, the ones that enjoy hours of careful sleuthing and searching to find the right girl. Facebook had made everything too easy for them, sure they didn’t have to use it, but the temptation was always there. It was like doing a crossword puzzle with the answers in the back of the book. I wasn’t like that. My idea was that the easier the capture, the better.

I found out her high school had a scheduled day off in two weeks. Her father seemed to work construction, so he’d be out of the house early. The girl’s mother was a nurse that appeared not to work a set schedule. She was a petite woman and I knew I could handle her easily if I needed to.

The day before Autumn’s scheduled day of reckoning, I spent several hours preparing my basement. Not having particular plans for the girl, I sharpened several knifes on an old whetstone, and greased the joints on a variety of pliers, clamps, and cuffs. I cleaned and polished several large fishhooks intended to catch large marlin and sharks. The final step was to give the concrete floor scrubbing and bleaching. After spraying the floor clean, and pushing the water down a drain with a floor squeegee, I went to bed.

I awoke early the next day and made my final preparations. Two bags sat on the kitchen table. One was a small duffel that would carry all the tools I’d need to break in and subdue the girl. It had chloroform, a couple blades, several feet of nylon rope, and a ball gag. Four large Ziploc bags, a dozen rubber gloves, and a lock pick kit rested on top of the pile.

The other bag was empty, and extremely large. It was intended to carry an entire team’s collection of hockey sticks, but I’d removed all the internal structure that held the sticks secure. What remained was basically a large carrying case for insubordinate cunts. Over a dozen girls made a trip in the sturdy black bag, each leaving their own stench of fear for the next to suffer in.

I was ready.

I drove 45 minutes to the girl’s house, hoping the satellite image was up to date. A few miles away, I stopped at a self-serve car wash and switched my license plate with a dummy one I kept in my trunk. The girl’s house was in a heavily wooded area. I drove past it once and gave the house a quick glance. The garage door was open, and empty. Her parents were gone. Hopefully she hadn’t decided to spend the night at a friend’s house. I drove around the neighborhood looking for any obvious problems. The street might as well have been abandoned. There were no clear views from house to house, and well over 100 yards between them. The ease made me feel like the universe was rooting for me.

After another drive around the block, I pulled into the driveway, and drove onto the grass behind the garage. I stepped out and made sure my car could not be seen from the street, or from any nearby house. Satisfied, I popped the trunk and took the two bags. I put on a pair of the rubber gloves, and took out the lock pick kit. With the two bags in hand, I hurried to the back door and began working on the lock.

It clicked open after less than 45 seconds.

The door opened into a clean, simple kitchen. A note sat on the counter, written in a hurried scrawl. “I’m working 7-3 today.” The note said, unsigned. A ticking clock and the hum of the refrigerator dominated all other sounds in the small house. I glanced at the clock. It was 8:12am.

I had assumed the teen’s room would be upstairs, but I explored the downstairs first. A king sized bed was unmade in the empty master bedroom. Across the hall was a small room with a twin sized bed and a small television. There was a bathroom with a walk in shower. A wet towel lay on the floor in front of the toilet. I moved quietly through the living room, and started up the stairs. They didn’t creak, and the carpet dampened my footfalls. When I reached the top, I heard a faint breathing coming from the room on my right.

I turned to the left.

There was a full bathroom. Lotions and perfumes covering the counter, most left open giving the bathroom and overwhelming stench of fake femininity. A whicker hamper sat against the wall, and through the narrow openings I could see it was almost half full. I flipped it open and searched through the girl’s dirty laundry. A pair of green cotton panties caught my eye, so I pulled them out and held them to my nose.

I inhaled, and picked out the subtle distinctions that made this cunt unique. Rummaging through again, I pulled three more pairs out and slid each into its own Ziploc bag.

I carried the two bags across the hall and stood at the threshold of her room looking in. The walls were a pale shade of purple and had a border of white flowers along the ceiling. A white, particle board computer desk sat directly to the right of the door. Directly across from the door was a matching white dresser which held a pile of dozens of stuffed animals. A closet had been left ajar, revealing a mess of clothes. I held off looking at the girl for as long as I could, only listening to her calm, slow breathing. Knowing these were the last few moments she’d ever experience absent unspeakable terror or excruciating pain made me enjoy them even more.

I finally looked at her bed.

She slept on her stomach, her face pressed against her purple sheets. A white comforter covered much of her body, her face and left calve were all that was visible. Above her head, partially wedged between the mattress and the headboard, was a stuffed lamb. I stepped into the room, set my bags down, and moved toward the girl. The lamb looked at least as old as she did. Its wool coat stained and body limp from constant squeezing. I imagined the girl much younger, hugging her lamb after waking from a terrifying nightmare. I could see the relief in her face as the doll calmed her, assuring her that monsters weren’t real.

There would be no such comfort following the nightmare she was about to endure.

I moved closer and silently took the lamb. From my small bag, I took the chloroform and returned to the bathroom. I dropped the lamb in the sink and emptied a fourth of the bottle onto it. Back in her room, I slid the bottle back into the bag, and crept right next to the sleeping girl. In one motion, I grabbed her neck, flipped her onto her back, and pressed the lamb over her face.

Autumn awoke instantly, and began to kick. Her mind seemed to skip over the moment of confusion that most of my girls displayed, and went directly to fighting. She screamed through her beloved stuff animal and kicked at me wildly. As the chemical filled her longs, she began to weaken. Her kicks stopped and the muscles of her neck relaxed around my fingers. I held the lamb over her mouth for several more seconds, and then tossed it aside.

The effects of chloroform are not long lasting, so I had to move quickly. I pulled the comforter from the girl, and couldn’t resist taking a moment to admire her body. She wore a white tank top, and a pair of “Hello Kitty” fleece shorts. Her thighs were baby smooth, and snowy white. I had to force myself to look away from her gorgeous body to grab the ropes from my bag.

I had her ankles bound together, and was giving the knot around her wrists a final tightening, when she started to come to. She moaned, and I moved back to my bag. “What. . .” She mumbled in a daze. “Who’s th. . . ?” Her mind apparently cleared, and she noticed her bindings. She began to struggle, and the beginnings of a blood curdling shriek were squelched by the gag I forced into her mouth. Her pointless fight against her bindings continued after I stepped from the bed. She turned her head toward me and the fear in her face intensified into abject terror.

“Hello, Autumn.” I said to the girl. The sound of her name caused her eyes to widen even further. Her fear had become palpable. “You really shouldn’t be so surprised, Miss Bell. You had to expect this day was coming.” I reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face. “How long did you expect you could play with fire, before you’d finally get burned?” The girl tried turning away, and managed to roll onto her back. A wet stain soiled the bed and soaked her shorts. “Still wet the bed, I see.” I laughed. “It’s guys like me that are supposed to do that, not pretty little things like you.” She rolled again and fell to the floor with a thump. I heard her moan deeply.

I walked around the bed and watched the girl’s endearing attempts at escape. She kicked her legs in a bicycling motion trying to break free from the rope around her ankles. I decided to let the girl tire herself out. Through the rubber gag, the 15-year-old alternated between cries of terror and moans of pain. The ropes had certainly begun to rip into her delicate skin by now. The pain would make her stop. It always did.

Autumn finally began to weep. Her whines intensified as I grabbed the rope around her ankles and dragged her toward the large black bag. I lifted her by the waist, and eased her inside. With a few forceful adjustments of her head and legs, I was able to get her in.

I zipped the bag.

I put the comforter back on her bed and stashed the chloroform soaked lamb in the small bag.

It was time to leave.

I carried the girl down the stairs with little trouble, and dropped her near the back door. After walking back to the car and ensuring the coast was still clear, I returned to the house. I carried the still struggling girl to my car and heaved her into the trunk. Five minutes later, I pulled into the same carwash and switched to my real license plate.

It was just after 10:00am when I pulled onto my driveway. It was a 200 yard winding dirt path with dense forest on either side. My house was invisible until you were less than 20 yards away.

I carried the girl, still bucking and screaming, into my isolated house. When I reached the basement, I placed the bag on the floor and unzipped the top. Autumn winced as florescent light flooded her eyes. With a firm grip on the bottom of the bag, I flipped it over and dumped the girl on the floor. The smell of piss filled them room and the bound and gagged teen squirmed on her belly. I bent over and removed the gag from her mouth. Saliva dripped from her lips and pooled on the floor.

Her feral, wordless screeching slowly evolved into a repetitious, pleading, “No!”

“It’s too late, Miss Bell.” I told her, aroused by her terror. “You must answer for your sins.” I knelt next to her, and placed my hand on the back of her thigh. “You know what your sins are, right Miss Bell?” I moved my hand up and under the leg of her wet fleece shorts.

“Please don’t!” She begged. “Please. . .please let me go! I. . .I won’t tell anybody, I swear! I promise!” She was turned away from me, but I could tell by the wrinkles on her temples that she was clenching her eyes. “Please Jesus!”

I placed my palm on her left ass cheek. It was perfectly firm and amply round. “What gives you the right to tease men with your body?” I squeezed her ass, and her cries for help continued. My hand moved into her shorts and under her cotton panties. “It’s pure arrogance to think that this,” I cupped my hand over her cunt, “is yours to save.” I ran my middle finger up her damp slit. The girl’s cries devolved into incoherence. I leaned next to her ear and growled. “It’s mine to take!”

I pulled my hand from her panties and stood. “According to your bible, Eve was made from one of Adam’s ribs.” I kicked my shoes off, and started to strip naked. “You claim to be a godly girl, but you seem to ignore the moral of that particular story.” I began unbuttoning my shirt. “Women are extensions of men. You don’t exist apart from us.” I tossed my shirt onto a chair near the stairs. “You have no right to deny me your body. It’s completely absurd, like a shadow refusing to lengthen as the sun nears the horizon.”

My pants fell to the floor.

I stood naked above the crying girl, erect and heart pounding with anticipation. My balls ached with several days of unreleased arousal. I forced myself not to jerk off for nearly a week, and as I gave my cock a few strokes, I knew I would not last long. My eight and a half inch cock was slick with pre-cum and almost painfully sensitive. The fat head had taken on a deep purple hue.

The cunt needed to suffer. Her virginity needed to be torn from her as violently and painfully as possible. This was my top priority, and I knew that would not be possible in my current state of extreme arousal. I would come too quickly, so I decided her virgin pussy could wait.

I turned to my table of freshly cleaned and prepared instruments. My knives hung neatly for the girls to see. There were hunting knives, carving knives, and a few machetes. Most of their handles were caked in blood, but the blades all shone with a mirror finish. I grabbed a small firefighter’s knife, designed to cut easily through seatbelts, and knelt next to my captive. Her eyes were still closed tightly and her crying had only intensified. I placed the blade under the leg of her shorts, making sure she felt the cold steel against the back of her thigh. She shrieked, and seemed to brace herself for pain. I cut up both legs of her shorts and pulled the shredded garment away from her.

She wore a pair of white panties with blue and green horizontal stripes. They clung to her body, and the dark crack of her ass was clear though the wet cotton. I cut the piss soaked underwear away and tossed them on top of her ragged shorts. Her ass was remarkable. It was plump and firm, a quality that would never have lasted much past 18. After that, cellulite would have begun to form and the full mounds would begin to sag. Like the rest of her, the skin of her ass was pale white and free from even the smallest blemish. If ever an ass had been gifted from god, this was it. A wave of anger shot through me at the thought of this selfish, arrogant bitch denying men this treasure which rightly belonged to them.

I placed the knife on the floor, the blade scraping the concrete. On each cheek, I rested a hand and began squeezing and kneading. I finally spread them, exposing her cute, pink and puckered anus. The dark hole looked tight enough to snap a pencil in. When it winked at me, it was all I could do to stop myself from plunging my cock in at that very moment. But, like her virgin cunt, this little pinhole deserved a more prolonged defilement.

I caught a glimpse of her mound between her legs. It was puffy and baby smooth, with goose bumps visible along her plump lips. I forced myself to look away. “Not yet.” I said to myself, and moved to the girl’s side before flipping her onto her back.

“No, no, no!” She begged, through clenched eyes. I straddled her waist. My balls rested against her smooth pussy, and my cock stretched up to her belly button. She had a triangular patch of neatly trimmed black pubic hair, and a pea sized beauty mark just above the right corner. The cold floor had hardened her nipples, and they pressed firmly against the tight tank top. I grabbed the knife and started slicing up the front. As I reached her breasts, the girl rocked her shoulders in a stupid attempt to avoid the inevitable. She screamed again as the blade nicked her left breast, just below the nipple. “Please, Jesus! Help me!” The teen screamed as blood began to soak into her shirt.

I laughed and continued slicing. Her large breasts, now exposed to the cold air, heaved as she panted tearfully. The small gash continued bleeding, staining the white tattered top. I sliced through each shoulder strap, and tossed her last piece of clothing onto the pile. The girl continued blubbering and vainly shouting for help. I moved up her body, and straddled her chest. The bulbous head of my cock rested under her trembling chin.

“Open your eyes.” I demanded in a stern, but quiet voice. The bitch ignored me. I pressed the knife to her cheek. “I said, open your eyes.” Still, the little shit didn’t listen. I fought the urge to jam the knife into her eye. “Open your fucking eyes!” I screamed. “Open ’em or I’ll open your fucking throat!”

I waited, and finally she obliged. Her green eyes looked up at me, helpless and fearful. She was desperate to live, and I wondered how long until that desperation finally flipped.

I smiled down at her, and moved my body upward. My balls rested on her throat, and my cock covered her face. I rubbed myself against her lips and eyes before spitting onto myself. A shiver shot up my spine and I took my spit coated cock into my hand. I felt my stomach tighten with anticipation knowing the girl under me would soon be plastered by several days of pent up semen.

With obvious difficulty, Autumn refused to close her eyes. She wept, and focused her tear flooded eyes on the ceiling. I stroked myself, smearing my saliva across the sensitive skin of my cock. Even sooner than I expected, I felt an orgasm coming on. I didn’t want to fight it. This first release would mark the girl as mine. With copious amounts of cum filling her mouth, blinding her eyes, and coating her cheeks, she would be forced to understand that I own her.

My balls clinched. “Open your fucking mouth!” I yelled. Autumn didn’t react instantly, but she opened before I was forced to make any more threats. “Don’t spit it out!” I said, on the cusp of erupting. “Swallow it.”

Autumn’s gaping mouth frowned, and a dribble fell onto her tongue. I clenched my buttocks, and the first jet sprayed her face. It stretched from her upper lip, covered her right eye, and ended just past her hair line. She flinched and closed her eyes reflexively. Another jet covered her forehead and another shot up her right nostril. I aimed into her mouth, and several more hearty deposits coated her tongue. She gagged and coughed, but managed not to lose a drop.

I continued stroking my shaft as I came down from the high. Autumn kept her mouth open, the thick white pool of cum bubbled with escaping air. “Swallow it.” I said between deep, recuperative breaths. The teen closed her mouth and swallowed. After a violent gag, which I thought would end with a pool of vomit on the floor, she managed to down every drop. She wept and I ascended.

My knees wobbled as I stood and a drop of stray cum fell onto my foot. I stood for a few moments and looked down at the girl. My cum was slowly streaming down along the curves of her face, much of it dripping to the floor. I bent and lifted the girl. A homemade, wooden table, modeled after those in a gynecologist’s office, was positioned against the wall opposite the stairs. I carried the girl toward it and placed her down, her bound legs hanging over the edge between the two stirrups. Under her thick ass was caked the dried blood of my past victims.

I maneuvered the girl’s back against the table, and lifted both her legs toward the stirrup on her left. I bound her left calf, and cut the rope binding her ankles. The girl’s right leg was now free. But she offered no resistance, not even a token kick. She had given me control, acknowledged that her body was mine. I spread the girl’s legs, and secured a strap around her right calf. Her firm legs spread wide, presenting the virgin pussy that she was so proud of. I moved between her legs and rested my deflating cock against her cleft.

She cried a sad, defeated cry as I ran my fingers down her smooth thighs. Her body shook when my right hand brushed over her pussy, and ran through her neatly trimmed bush. The rough, black hair contrasted nicely against the smooth pale flesh surrounding it.

I walked away from the girl and grabbed a pair of rubber tipped pliers from the table. A stray red pubic hair was lodged in the jaws, a relic of the last girl that came to visit. I remembered the 16-year-old’s screams as I pulled every fiery pube from her body.

Back between the legs of my current girl, I lightly pinched her fleshy ass with the pliers. She yelped, more from surprise than pain, and continued with her steady crying. I ran my fingers up through the curly hair, and took a strand between the rubber teeth of the pliers. Autumn gasped at the pain, but didn’t scream, as I yanked the first of hundreds of hairs from her delicate flesh.

Over the next several minutes, I continued. At first, I only pulled one hair at a time. But I was soon tearing out eight, nine, ten hairs with each forceful tug. The pain the teen was experiencing grew with each uprooting. Her skin was red, inflamed, and even bleeding in a few spots. As her balling intensified, and as her pain grew, I felt the beginnings of another erection. By the time half her bush was gone, I was aching to plunge inside her. Ready for the long, painful deflowering the cunt deserved.

After ripping of the last bunch of hair, I hunted for strays. Autumn barely reacted as I pulled them out one at a time. She’d acclimated herself to the pain. Something that wouldn’t come so easy, once the true suffering began.

Half an hour after starting, she was completely smooth. I ran my hand over the warm flesh, smearing the small drops of blood over her white skin. A small red stream flowed down and disappeared between the lips of her virgin pussy.

I stepped closer to the girl, my cock stretching to her belly button and my balls resting against her thick cunt lips. Autumn must have sensed my next move, because she struggled against her leg shackles. With her wrists still bound behind her back, she twisted her body trying anything that might free her. I watched her desperate attempts to break free slowly dwindle, as that distressed burst of hope finally drained from her.

“Please. . .” She said in a high pitch cry. “Please Jesus, help me!”

“There’s nobody that can help you now.” I told her, as I pulled my hips back. “And it appears that Jesus might just be on my side.” A scream seemed to shake the house’s foundation as my cock collided with the girl’s cervix. With one thrust, I stretched and tore the virgin’s vice-tight cunt. A torrent of blood instantly began flowing from her. In an attempt to rupture the agonized teen’s cervix, I continued thrusting with all my strength. Each punch of my cock sent a new wave of pain through Autumn’s body. Her neck was arched backward and her mouth hung open. Unable to take a breath through the pain, she seemed to silently scream at the ceiling, her eyes wide and red. After a dozen or so more thrusts, I pulled out.

Her cunt gaped and a river of her blood stained the wooden table and dripped to the floor. I rubbed my cock head against the lips, as the girl inhaled deeply. A loud wheeze filled her lungs and was quickly followed by another glass shattering scream. I dove back in.

Her squeals continued as her tender flesh was tattered and destroyed. Blood dripped down my legs, and I watched her large breasts bounce with each forceful plummet into her womanhood. Suddenly, my balls smacked against the teen’s asshole. The girl shuttered, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. I pulled back out slightly, savoring the feeling of her freshly torn cervix squeezing my cock head as it slid out from her uterus. The girl’s head dropped in unconsciousness, a merciful act by a brain convinced it was dying. The rape continued to the sound of creaking wood and sloppy wet thrusts into her bleeding body.

For several beautiful minutes I walloped the girl. When I felt an orgasm coming on, I reached over her and took her tits into my hands. The small nick on her left breast had already closed up and clotted. Several jets of semen erupted directly into the girl’s womb as I squeezed the soft flesh of her bounteous tits. Warmth filled my veins as I lost myself in orgasm.

When the surge of pleasure finally passed, I pulled out of the girl. Her cunt was a familiar sight of utter destruction and gore. Blood poured from her body very rapidly, and I knew I would need to do something to stop the flow. Bleeding out while unconscious was too kind a death for the little bitch.

I went upstairs, and walked out to my backyard. Naked, blood covering my cock and thighs, I went to my grill and removed the electric charcoal starter from the weather proof cabinet next to it. I made my way back down to the basement and took a metal speculum from the top drawer of my supply table. After inserting and expanding the speculum, I examined the damage. There were several tears along her vaginal wall, and blood continued to flow from her ruptured cervix. It was a shame I had to cauterize such a beautiful wound.

I placed the charcoal starter on the concrete floor and plugged it in. As I waited for the coil’s searing red glow, I moved back to my supply table and contemplated my next move. Like a chess player with his finger on a piece, I weighed several options.

My goal was to prolong Autumn’s pain as long as possible. To keep the cunt alive well past the point she began to wish for death. She needed to remain relatively clear headed and would not be able to lose much more blood. I saw a pile of thick rusty nails in a drawer and my plan of action began to emerge. A smile crossed my face. It was such a simple idea. I wondered why it had never occurred to me before. I took a handful of nails, and placed them on top of the table.

The narrow U-shaped coil was now at full temperature. I lifted it by the warm handle and moved back between the girl’s opened legs. The coppery smell of her blood was even stronger now. A steady drip still fell to the wooden slab. With great care, I moved the coil into her gaping pussy. When the glowing tip reached her split womb, I took a steadying breathe.

Slowly I pressed it against the jagged gash into her uterus.

There was a sizzle and a few moments later, the sickly sweet stench of burning blood and flesh. I held the coil for a few more moments before removing it. I looked back inside and gazed at the blackened patch of tissue. The nerves were nearly all fried, so the cauterization would not increase her pain by a large margin. That was a sadness I would need to live with.

I unplugged the charcoal starter and placed it aside before retrieving my fireman’s knife. At the girl’s side, I reached under her and sliced through the rope around her wrists. Her hands were swollen purple as I dropped them over her crotch. I positioned each rope burned wrist into a pair of hand cuffs, and started dragging the table to the center of the room. There was a rope hanging from a pulley and I positioned the table directly under it. The dangling end of the rope held a large steel hook and the other was tied off to a ship cleat bolted to the wall. I unwound the rope from the cast iron cleat and lowered the hook about level with the girl’s head. I passed the hook through the center link of the hand cuffs, and returned to the pile of nails. With the six rusty spikes in hand, I grabbed a hammer and moved to the girl’s feet.

I pressed the tip of the first nail against the center of the heel on her left foot. A negligible amount of blood dripped from her skin as I twisted the nail into her flesh. Small flecks of rust flaked off and stained the tips of my fingers. I let go of the nail when it struck bone. A few quick and gentle blows of the hammer, imbedded the nail about an inch into the bone. Four inches of reddened metal protruded from the bottom of her foot. I drove two more nails into the heel of her left foot, and then repeated the entire process on her right. When I was finished, I felt the whispers of a coming erection.

I unbound the still unconscious 15-year-old’s legs and returned to the rope securing cleat on the wall. I pulled the rope and lifted the girl slowly, not wanting to dislocate or damage her shoulders. When her wrists were a few inches from the pulley on the ceiling, I secured the rope and moved the table back to its designated corner. The cuffs dug into her wrists, and her upstretched arms forced her chin into her chest. Her toes pointed at the floor, the nails imbedded into her heels made her feet look like a piece of medieval weaponry. She swayed slightly, oblivious to the hell her body was going through.

I needed a break. After showering, and replenishing some of my expelled fluids, I ordered takeout from a relatively close Chinese restaurant. I threw on some clothes and walked out my door.

40 minutes later, I returned. My mouth was watering and my cock had stiffened significantly. I entered the house half expecting the girl’s cries to be rattling the walls. But there was only silence. I walked down to the basement, the fear that she’d died rose with each step. As I stood before her, paper sack still in hand, I noticed her breathing and felt great relief. I hurried back upstairs, grabbed a syringe from the fridge and a fork and went back down to the basement.

I set my meal on the chair near the stairs, and walked to the girl. Inside the clear plastic syringe was a mixture of stimulants. The drugs were tailor made for these types of situations. Created by chemists working for the Mexican drug cartels, this mixture was designed to keep a captive awake, alert, and clearheaded. The intended purpose was to extract info from rival cartel members. Through a few deep web forums, and several encrypted messages, I managed to set up a meeting with a supplier. He told me that each syringe would keep the victim alert for nearly 12 hours.

I bought 150 doses.

With the syringe between my teeth, I searched Autumn’s right arm for a vein. I slowly emptied the cocktail of drugs into her bloodstream and withdrew the needle. All I could do was wait and enjoy a good meal. It often took almost 10 minutes for the little sluts to wake up. So I pulled the chair closer to the girl, and opened the white container of shrimp fried rice.

I ate, watching the large breasted teen slowly come to. First her breathing became more labored, and then she started whimpering quietly. Finally, her eyes started flickering, and a few moments later they burst open. The girl screamed and winced, the pain seeming to hit her all at once. I was wondering which was the most severe, her wrists, her feet, or her scorched womb. She answered my unasked question.

“My wrists!” She bellowed. “Please, my wrists!”

I took a few more bites, and stood. “Your wrist’s hurt?” I asked with mock concern. “Would you rather stand?”

The girl nodded. “Please!”

“That’s fine.” I set my container on my seat and walked to the iron cleat. Slowly, I lowered the girl, keeping a close eye on the nails protruding from her feet. The pain in her wrists must have been over riding all other sources. As the first nail was just about to touch the concrete, I quickly slackened the rope by two feet.

The teen’s feet crashed to the floor, driving a couple of the nails even further into her heel. A horrific scream erupted from the girl. The sound penetrated my bones, and stiffened my cock to the point of near pain. Her knees buckled and her full weight went back to her wrists and shoulders. As she continued shrieking, I secured the rope and walked in front of her. I placed my hand on her shaking shoulder and smiled at her.

“Is that better?” I asked, shifting some of my weight to her shoulder. There was a fluctuating pitch in her cries as the cuff dug deeper into her flesh. I returned to my seat.

I ate my food slowly, the girl’s cries adding a pleasurable atmosphere of pain, terror, and desperation. After a few minutes of hanging from her wrists, the girl carefully shifted her weight to her toes. Her arms slackened and she looked like a prima ballerina from Hell’s own ballet company. Blood streaked down her arms, flowed over her armpits and traced the beautiful silhouette of her hips. A snot bubble repeatedly formed and popped as she wept. Drool dripped down her chin, an occasional drop landed on the bleached white concrete. Her entire body shook, and she didn’t even try to speak.

I relished her agony, and finally took the last bite of my beef and broccoli. “Well,” I said placing the container down, “I’m sure your anxious for me to get on with it.” I stood in front of the girl, and lifted her fallen chin. Her eyes were closed tight, as she wept silently. “I bet your hoping that I just kill you. Is that right?” The teen didn’t respond. “I bet you’re praying that I would just slash your throat. But, you do realize that’s suicide, right?” I placed my hand on her breast. “Suicide is an unforgivable sin. Didn’t you know that? By hoping to die, you are essentially sending yourself to hell.” I squeezed her breast firmly. “You’ll never see mommy and daddy. You’ll never see your friends. Your precious lord and savior will spit in your face, curse you, and kick you into the pit of hell.” Autumn’s face twisted, proving that my words were sinking in. “You better hope your mind is strong enough to save your soul.”

I stepped away from the girl, and she started sobbing fearfully. I pulled down my khaki shorts and removed my shirt. After tossing them on the chair, I walked back to the girl, my swollen cock pointed like a dosing rod. “I know you were a virgin,” I said, “but I was wondering if you’re trying to get off on a technicality.” I moved behind her and bent behind her round ass. “You ever let your boyfriends fuck you up the ass? I know that’s really popular with you Christian cunts.” She whined when I placed my hands on her pale cheeks and spread them wide. “Technical virginity, I think it’s called. Is that right?” Her beautiful pink hole had been smeared with the blood from her destroyed vagina. I pressed my index finger against the puckered hole and slid in up to the first knuckle.

Autumn barely reacted. The muscle was incredibly tight. There was nothing technical about this bitch’s virginity. There would have been no crossed fingers on her wedding night. She was a good Christian girl through and through.

I pulled the tip of my finger out and stood back up. She yelped as my leg brushed against one of the nails. I wrapped my arms around her body, one hand massaged her right breast, and the other rubbed her tiny clitoris. My swollen cock squeezed between her thighs, and the girl moaned as the purple head seemed to protrude from her crotch. I leaned against her and pressed my lips to her right ear.

“You have a beautiful little asshole, Miss Bell. I just hope for your sake, that this isn’t too messy.” I pulled my cock back, and pressed it against the waiting hole. Tears streamed down her face as she waited for the pain. Like a passenger on an amusement park ride, Autumn’s tension grew with each moment as she waited for the ride to start.

I kissed her cheek, and tasted her salty sweat and tears. Her breath caught as I forced my entire cock into her bowels. The warmth of her body and the spasmodic reaction of her sphincter and colon sent intense waves of pleasure through my prick. Autumn screamed, and rattled her chains. I remained inside the girl, enjoying the feeling of her shit compacting and oozing around my invading member. She fought only momentarily, as her resistance forced the metal cuffs even further into her flesh.

She stopped moving. I felt the muscles of her jaw clench against my cheek, and she moaned gutturally. Her ass cheeks clenched around my cock. It was an involuntary reaction that only served to deepen my pleasure. I started to pull out, but stopped just before my head emerged from her clutching anus. For a few moments I waited. I waited for her bowels to tighten back up, and I waited for the girl to feel some relief. Again, I buried myself in the girl’s tiny asshole. Her screams returned, and I began a fervent attempt to burst her bowels.

I raped the teen with violent, animalistic ferocity. Whenever I’m balls deep in a new girl’s asshole, I try to imagine that it would be possible to fuck her to death. As if by sheer will, my cock could travel up her body and rupture her heart. I know that’s impossible, but it gives me the drive to totally destroy her.

Autumn’s screams slowly began to ease up. She still cried, but she’d begun to beg me to stop, a sign that the pain had relented a little bit and allowed words to form in her mouth. Of course, I didn’t listen to her pleas. Well, I listened, but didn’t heed them. Eventually, I felt blood flowing around my cock, and with each outward thrust, the faint smell of shit wafted up from between her soft cheeks.

I continued ravaging the 15-year-old for several minutes. She’d stopped crying, and no longer begged me to stop. My hand had returned to her clit and I rubbed it vigorously. I could see the corner of her right eye and could tell she stared blankly ahead, a sign of an imminent, involuntary orgasm. To make a girl come while raping her was the ultimate form of debasement. Even terrified and in excruciating pain, an orgasm would still send pleasure through the girl’s bloody body. Shame would invariably follow. Shame in the fact that the man destroying her, the man that may very well kill her, had made her feel better than any man had before. Torture of the mind, was what finally broke them. It was what finally made them wish for death.

The tip of my cock began to tingle, and my balls started to clench. I rubbed her swollen clit, my fingers coated with her warm spilt blood. As I skirted the edge of my orgasm, I thought about the girl’s stuffed lamb. I imagined her holding it close to her large chest as she drifted to sleep. Her biggest worry being a geometry test, or what color shoes she should wear to the dance. I imagined her dreaming pleasantly, a drop of saliva dripping onto the matted wool of her comforting stuffed toy.

The girl moaned, and her buttocks twitched. My fingers moved faster as an orgasm rattled her body. I stopped holding back, and erupted into her colon. The girl’s hips bucked against me, the throes of her orgasm only serving to make mine more pleasurable. She took several wheezing gasps, and I rubbed her unrelentingly. The final drop spurted from my cock, and I pulled my hand away. I remained inside the girl, and for a moment she allowed post orgasm euphoria to take control of her. She almost smiled, but her face quickly morphed into a dreadful frown. Autumn exploded into a desperate sob.

When I finally pulled my cock from her ass, it was smeared with blood and large specks of feces. It was still rock hard. I knelt behind the girl and spread her round cheeks, anxious to witness the aftermath. Her asshole gaped, winking arhythmically. Streaks of shit darkened blood dripped down her thighs. Finally, the dark hole gurgled. Frothy cum, streaked red and brown flowed from her. Much of it clung to her body and flowed over her cunt before finally dripping to the concrete floor. With several involuntary expulsions, Autumn emptied the remains of her rape, splashing it to the floor with what remained of her fortitude.

The acrid stench of blood, semen, and shit emanated from the hole. I’d long ago grown accustomed to it, and could even see myself missing it if my lessons ever had to stop. I rose to my feet and moved to the girl’s front. Her chest and shoulders shook in a wild moan, her green eyes closed to her hellish surroundings. I took the base of my cock into my hand and cleaned the filth from it. The girl jolted when I smeared it over her face. She began to gag as the smell filled her nose and stray drops passed between her lips. The girl spat to the floor as her weeping continued.

I moved back to the rope, and began to lower her to the ground. As the tips of her toes hit the concrete she curled them back, anxious to avoid making floor contact with the protruding nails. Her knees touched the ground and she moaned as her arms started to slacken. I released the rope, and she collapse into the pile of filth that had spewed from her demolished asshole. Her arms crossed over her face, and she pulled her knees closer to her chest.

I took my cock into my hand and aimed it at her head. Still rock hard, I had to force it down. Three stray streams of piss fell toward the girl before eventually merging into one thick river of orange obscenity. Autumn didn’t react as I soaked her hair and moved the stream over her body, washing away drying blood. I shook the last few drops out, and move back to my tools.

I grabbed a claw hammer. Kneeling at her feet, I removed each of the nails imbedded in her heel. With each extrusion, Autumn cried harder. With the final nail removed, I ran my hand up her left thigh. She had strong, soccer player’s calves and silky smooth skin. I moved my hand over her foot and squeezed her heel. It didn’t seem broken, the nails must have left only six small holes. I grabbed the toes of her left foot, and forced her feet apart. With the outer ball of her ankle resting against the solid concrete, I brought the hammer down against the inner part. The hammer sunk into her flesh, and a wonderful cracking sound filled the small room.

Autumn inhaled deeply, but didn’t scream. I looked at her face. Her mouth was open in a silent scream and her eyes seemed about to pop from their sockets. Her mind was trying to shut itself down, a last ditch effort to save itself from the agony. The drugs pulsing through her veins would not allow that. I brought the hammer down on her other ankle and the girl gasped again. She finally screamed. It was the scream of a soul being thrown into the lake of fire.

I watched her shattered ankles swell and turn plum purple. She continued inhaling with a gasp and exhaling with a deathly shriek. I stood and unlocked her wrists. After I returned the hammer, I walked to the stainless steel sink and pulled out the 20 foot hose coiled inside it. I turned on the hot water and waited a few moments, before I cleaned the blood, cum, and shit from my cock, balls, and thighs. Autumn continued the steady beat of gasps and shrieks as I washed myself. I turned on the cold water, and turned the hose on the teen. The icy water splashed against her back, and she gasped cutting a shriek short. I sprayed the exposed parts of her body and flipped her over. Her cries had no room to grow as her ankles bent unnaturally and slammed into the floor.

I sprayed the rest of the filth from her and directed it down a drain a few feet from her pale ass. Clean, cold, and crying, I left the cunt alone in the black basement and returned up stairs.

I slept the most wonderful, replenishing sleep I’d had in months.

When I awoke, it was dark. I had no idea of the time, nor did I care. All that mattered was the erection that needed to be seen to. I walked naked through my hall, the wood floor cold against my feet, and opened the door to the basement. No cries came up the stairs, so I went to the fridge and took another one of the syringes. At the top of the basement steps, I flipped the lights on and made my way down the wooden steps. When I turned the corner at the bottom, I saw that the girl hadn’t moved. Standing over her, I looked for signs of life. Her shoulders rose slightly with shallow breaths. With my foot, I flipped the girl onto her back. Her hair had dried into a tangled mess, and her mouth hung open.

My eyes caught a shimmer of light that reflected off her perfectly straight, brilliantly white teeth. Years of braces and possible whitening gave the girl a movie star’s mouth. Her once succulent lips had dried, the skin cracked and white. Even in the cold basement, fear had sweated the girl into near dehydration. I needed her to drink something. With reluctance, I returned up stairs and took a syringe of Dilaudid from my stash. Back in the basement, I injected the girl with the strong painkiller, and followed it with the stimulant. In a few minutes, she came to. The two chemicals competed for consciousness and unconsciousness. Her eyes were bleary, and she didn’t seem to know where she was. I turned the water on slightly and small stream of cold water left the hose.

“Are you thirsty?” I asked, leaning over the girl and kinking the hose.

She nodded and made a noise that sounded like, “Yes.”

I placed the hose over her already open mouth and filled a quarter of it. I kinked the hose and she swallowed. We repeated this several times, until she shook her head. I returned the hose and stood over the girl wondering if she could remember what I’d done to her. Did she think I’d had a change of heart? Did she misconstrue my needing a wet mouth to fuck, as kindness?

I bent and lifted the girl to another table. This one was a small modified chopping table about three and a half feet long, and two feet wide. I laid her on her back, her knees bent over one end and her neck hanging over the other. The table rose to a few inches below my waist, and had several hooks attached to the legs and along sides of the heavy wood top. I liked to be prepared for girls of all statures. I got four pairs of cuffs from a drawer, and secured the girl’s ankles to the table legs. They had swelled to a comical size, and could barely fit into the steal restraints. I then locked her wrists to the side of the table.

The conscious, but numb girl lay motionless on the chopping block. I would need to wait a couple hours for her lips to plump back up and the effects of the Dilauded to subside. For a few minutes I thought about a quick fuck in her ass, but decided to save the semen I’d replenished during the night. I stepped away, and went to the small bag I’d brought to her house. I pulled out the three pairs of sealed panties and walked back to the girl. I pulled out a pair of white boyshorts, with green and blue polka dots. As I sniffed them deeply, I looked into Autumn’s empty eyes. The heady aroma sent a quiver through my body. While very similar to the others in my collection, there was the subtle distinction that set it apart. There was no smell of fear evident in the bouquet, only innocence.

For about 45 minutes I savored the girl’s smell and stroked myself. I neared orgasm a few times, but backed off, allowing semen to build up even more plentifully. When I knew that I probably wouldn’t be able to ride the edge anymore without coating the girl, I resealed the panties and went upstairs. I kept my panty collection in a white plastic container in the back of my closet. About 40 unlabeled plastic bags filled the container without any sign of organization. The day when I could no longer remember who a particular pair of soiled panties belonged to, I’m sure I’d feel some sense of accomplishment. I’d have reached the point where so many young girls had suffered under my hands that I could actually forget a name or two.

I closed the tub and noticed that the sun had begun to rise. The morning news would be on. Beautiful missing white girls abducted from their rooms tended to make a few waves. In my living room, I flipped on the television and sat naked on my black leather recliner. I was not disappointed.

Autumn’s picture hovered over the shoulder of a blonde newswoman. “Police have said that there may be signs of a struggle, but could not clarify what they meant by that.” I knew they were probably referring to the piss soaked bed. The woman continued. “This is the fifth such disappearance in the last year, but police have not stated officially if they believe they are all connected.” The screen cut to a shaky video of Autumn running down a field in a green and blue soccer uniform. The anchor continued speaking over the footage. “Viewers are urged to contact Rockpoint police if you have any knowledge of Autumn Bell’s whereabouts.” I continued watching as I finished eating a bowl of shredded wheat.

Slowly, I began to hear moans and cries coming from the basement. And before long, screams signified the painkiller had finally worn off. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, the girl’s head was bent back over the table, the bottom of her chin parallel with her large chest. Her mouth was wide in pain and clearheaded terror. Her eyes met mine, and she immediately clenched them.

“Good morning, Miss Bell.” I said in the most pleasant voice I could manage. “I just saw your picture on the news. You have such a beautiful smile.” I moved to the girl, and stood with my cock an inch from her screaming mouth. Her warm breath passed over it, a little sampling of the warmth the lay inside. I took a fistful of hair into each hand and forced her to face me. “Why don’t you show it to me? I think a smile from a girl as pretty as you would just make my day.” Autumn screamed through now gritting teeth. “Please?” She didn’t respond.

I dropped her head. “That’s a pity.” I said with affected disappointment as I walked to the shelf. “I’d have thought you’d want to show it off one last time.” I had three different sized mouth gags, and picked up the medium sized one. Their usual purpose was to keep the girl’s teeth away from my cock while I pounded into her throat. But this girl’s teeth warranted some attention, not avoidance. I picked up a pair of pliers and returned to the girl.

Knowing she’d resist opening her mouth, I held the dental gag close to her lips and swatted at her ankle with the pliers. Her mouth shot open and I forced the gag between her teeth. She opened her eyes when her attempt to close her mouth was unsuccessful. Two small metal bars between her right molars kept her mouth wide and accessible. Her uvula vibrated rapidly as she continued screaming. When I raised the pliers before her face, a moment of confusion crossed it before the realization dropped onto her like a loaded bus. She shook her head and tried to sit up, sending a jolt of pain through her ankles. I grabbed the girl around the neck, and forced her to remain steady. A few quick squeezes of the pliers loosened my hand and the makeshift dental instrument.

The first teeth to go were her lower center incisors. The pliers gripped them both, and pulled the left out cleanly. Blood immediately began flowing from the clean hole. The right tooth cracked vertically down the center, leaving the root and a narrow sliver of tooth still imbedded into her jaw. The girl tried to close her mouth, the muscles of her jaw contracting against my left hand. As her screams continued, I dropped the one and a half teeth onto her stomach. The rest of the broken incisor came out cleanly with another tug.

As I made my way through each tooth, I wondered how many thousands of dollars her parents had spent perfecting this little beauty’s smile. How many trips did she make to the orthodontist and how many nights of discomfort did she go through as her teeth slowly aligned themselves? I dropped a bloody left molar on her stomach and it bounced off her and rolled from the table. With a click, it hit the floor and skidded a few feet across the concrete.

Blood had begun pooling in her mouth. It sloshed around her tongue as the muscle shot around her mouth with random desperation. Screams formed bubbles in the red pool, and each forceful extraction was no longer punctuated with its individual scream. She cried steadily, only stopping to cough as the occasional bit of blood passed down her throat. When I removed all the teeth I could without adjusting the gag, I slipped four fingers between the bloody gums on the left side of her mouth and removed the stainless steel gag. She tried to close her mouth, but stopped as her gums pressed against my fingers. I moved the gag to the left side of her mouth and continued removing her snow white teeth.

The last molar popped from its socket, leaving her mouth a gummy mess of blood and exposed nerves. I pulled out the gag, and the girl spit blood from her now plump, hydrated lips. Much of the blood flowed into her nose and over her clenched eyes before being absorbed into her hair. Cries were demarcated by a spits of blood. I returned to the sink and turned on the hose. For about a minute I sprayed my captives face, and flushed the blood from her toothless maw. When I stopped, a river of pale red water flowed down the slightly angled floor to an endlessly useful floor drain.

Her head hung back, lips slightly parted in a heavy weep. A trickle of blood flowed out of the corner of her mouth and followed the wrinkles in her agonized face before dripping to the floor. I moved my cock to her face and slid the head across her buttery smooth lips. She closed her mouth.

“Open up, Autumn.” I ordered. “I can make things much worse for you.” Her large breasts shook in a heavy sob. “You may not believe that, but I assure you it’s true.” Finally, the girl parted her lips. I eased my swollen head past them. It was like a fleshy plum filling her mouth. I felt her tongue flick across it, an involuntary act trying to make room for air. Her cries sent high frequency, tingling vibrations through the tip of my cock. A shiver of pleasure shot up my back. And for a few moments, I stood enjoying the girls soft mouth as it struggled to accommodate me. Warm breath escaped her nose, flowing along the underside of my shaft before enveloping my balls.

Unable to stand the anticipation, I wrapped my hands around the base of her skull. My thumbs touched over her throat, and my fingers overlapped each other over the base of her skull. With a firm thrust, I forced the entire length of my cock down her throat. She immediately began to gag violently. Her gums tightened around my shaft and squeezed as the head burst into her esophagus. A huge bulge appeared in her throat and moved down toward her chest. Every muscle in the teen’s throat began to spasm, trying to expel the massive invader.

Every involuntary action that a girl’s body exhibits while being raped only serves to increase the pleasure of the rapist. Clenching muscles, the warm lubrication of her blood, and screams giving my cock a vibrating massage, all made the violent act beautifully satisfying. It was further proof that if there is a god, he designed woman for this specific purpose.

With each thrust down her throat, I neared what I knew would be a powerful orgasm. The pressure from her clenching gums, wetness and warmth from her blood, and the rhythmic spasms as her esophagus attempted to expel the contents of her empty belly were truly overwhelming. I pulled out, only to let the cunt breathe. Bloody saliva poured over her face as she took several gasping breaths. As she took another deep inhale, I dove back inside, forcing blood and saliva down her throat. Her attempts at coughing pushed me to the edge. With several rapid, deep penetrations, I allowed myself to come.

As I had anticipated, it was an extremely powerful orgasm. The near hour I spent stroking my cock and sniffing the innocent sweetness of her soiled panties had produced a massive quantity of unexpelled semen. My thick load erupted into the teen’s gullet. I imagined her stomach filling up, my cock a feeding tube offering the girl the nourishment of my protein. As I emptied myself, Autumn continued coughing and attempting to vomit. Her back arched as she struggled to breathe, the pain in her ankle seeming to be overwhelmed by the fear of suffocation. I remained down her throat for as long as my sensitive cock could stand it.

The pleasure quickly shifted to pain, and I pulled out of the girl’s throat. A deep, gasping breath was followed by a sheet of frothy saliva flowing from her gaping mouth. She began to heave and rejected the semen I’d been so generous to feed her. A thick coat of sticky saliva covered my cock, dripping huge globs to the stone floor. The girl turned her head and spat cum and trace amounts of stomach acid from her mouth. Even more flowed up her nose and over her eyes.

I needed to sit down. My legs shook and a wave of dizzying euphoria flooded my head. I moved to the chair near the stairs and flopped onto it. An exhausted laugh exploded out of me as I listened to the girl’s coughs and desperate gasps for air.

It was only a few minutes later that the both of us had recovered. I was ready for another round with the girl, and she no longer fought to breathe, but suffered through new pain of a bruised esophagus. From my seat, I looked over the girl. Her once beautiful hair was covered in blood from the remnants of her once perfect smile. Her gorgeous pale legs now sported shattered, crooked ankles and a discoloration that went half way up her thighs. Her virgin cunt, a treasure she’d horded selfishly for years too long, was now a bloody chasm of tattered tissue. Her pink, puckered asshole now stretched and dripped blood.

My eyes focused on her breasts. They were large for her age and almost seemed to defy gravity with their perkiness. They were beautiful, perfect, and certainly the object of lust for all her male classmates and teachers. The thought that the cunt had denied the men in her life what they were entitled to, angered me.

I rested further, contemplating the next trial, the next lesson Autumn needed to learn. When I made my decision, I rose and returned to the supply table. I knew what I wanted, so I wasted no time in grabbing two large barbed hooks. A flash of inspiration hit me when I saw a rarely used ice pick. I surprised myself, and made a quick alteration to my plan.

Autumn didn’t react when I placed the ice pick on the table next to her. But, her screams did seem to become more frantic as I pinched her right nipple. I took a few moments to admire the tits in the last moments of their splendor. My right hand massaged and worked the pale mound softly and, if viewed without context, sweetly. They were the perfect balance of pillowy softness and firm stability. I finally pinched her right nipple and lifted her breast. Her skin stretched as I lifted her breast away from her body. I took one of the barbed hooks and pressed the razor tip against her, an inch below her nipple.

Autumn screamed apocalyptically as the steel hook slid through her breast. The spike curved through her and the tip emerged about an inch above her nipple. I dropped that hook and pressed the tip of the other under her left breast. Her skin broke and the hook moved easily through the fatty tissue.

Both hooks now impaled the teen’s chest. I unhooked her legs and arms and lifted her from the table. The girl didn’t fight back.

“Remember what I said about giving up?” I looked down at the filthy girl cradled in my arms. “Remember what I said about suicide?” A spark of willpower crossed her face as I walked to the center of the room. She started to raise her arm, but before she could hit me, I dropped her to the floor. She rolled down my arms and crashed onto her stomach. Her right ankle had hit first, twisting the sole of her foot perpendicular to her calve.

I burst with laughter as her elbows broke the rest of her fall, an involuntary effort to protect her head. Had she resisted her instincts and let her head slam into the concrete, she very well may have been saved further agony. Yet more proof of the righteousness of my actions.

She seemed to have truly given up now. Her body shook in a silent sob, and her arms stretched out to her side. She was laying prostate before me in a symbol of complete subjugation. I stepped to her side and stood above her left arm. A faint moan escaped her as I pressed the heel of my right foot onto the back of her hand. I stepped over her arm with my left foot, momentarily applying my full weight to her hand. The heel pressed against the ball of her elbow, and like a pissed off horse, I kicked backward with all my strength.

Her elbow cracked and snapped, bending her arm revoltingly. I stepped back and looked down at the girl. Her elbow pointed upward, looking like the top of an angel’s wing. Autumn no longer moved. Her brain, even flush with powerful stimulants, could not handle this level of pain. For the sole purpose of symmetry, I did the same with her other arm.

I flipped her onto her back and nudged the motionless body under the hanging rope. After lowering it, I slid both breast impaling hooks through the one attached to the rope. I returned to the cleat on the wall and raised the rope just shy of the point where her back would be lifted off the ground. Her tits stretched up in front of her, straining her pale flesh.

I took the ice pick and pressed the tip against the underside of her right tit. The silence was eerie as I pushed the point into her flesh. I continued driving the pick through her breast as her body lay immobile. Half way through, I started twisting and jostling the pick, stretching and tearing through her. Finally the needle point emerged from the other side. I moved the pick in a cranking motion, widening the entrance hole to a diameter of nearly an inch. Blood began to stream steadily from the narrow passage.

I pulled the spike from her flesh, revealing a miniscule channel through her creamy breast. With little thought, I pressed the tip of my cock against the hole and began to push. Still slimy with cum and saliva, my cock ricocheted off the hole several times, sliding to the left or right. Finally I felt her skin begin to tear, and about half an inch of my cock forced its way into the wound. Slowly, the passage expanded and tore to fit my bulky prick. I ripped through the empty milk ducts and sacs, and broke through fatty tissue. The sound of her tearing body was faint, but unmistakable.

My swollen head burst through the hole on top of her breast, forcing blood and small specks of shredded tissue out before it. My purple head resembled a birthing baby. Gore slicked and forcing it’s way through a dark chasm barely wide enough to accommodate it. My entire head finally emerged, and the teen’s tit squeezed my shaft with remarkable intensity. I remained impaled through the girl for several moments, her destroyed face in placid unconsciousness. When I finally pulled myself from her, the gaping hole closed like rare beef does when removed from a barbeque skewer.

I roughly forced myself back in. The hooks below her nipples tore further into her with the force of the thrust, causing a thicker stream of blood to flow down the tops of her breasts. Her body rocked violently as I fucked the improvised hole. The slim hole felt like nothing I’d ever felt. It didn’t give like a pussy or ass did. Its tightness was completely unrelenting. As I neared orgasm, and my cock became more sensitive, there was an illusory effect of the wound tightening around me.

I came much too quickly, unaccustomed to such an overwhelming sensitivity. My cock head remained inside the girl, as semen erupted in ropy spurts. The sticky white fluid spewed from her wound like puss from an untreated infection. It flowed down her chest, following the curvature of her body and mixed with a pool of her blood that had formed in and around her belly button. My testicles had smeared the blood into a series of crimson arches that looked like erupting lava painted on a pale white canvas.

I struggled to my feet and stared down at the broken girl. Her body had shown remarkable resilience. Death would come very soon, even if I did nothing to hasten its icy hand. I felt a moment of sadness, like a child stepping on a roller coaster for the last ride of the day.

Not wanting to lose the opportunity, I returned to my knives and took one with a long serrated blade. It was intended to slice bread, but had never been used for that purpose. I’d last used the blade to remove the buttocks from a previous victim. It was the first time I’d tried that, and would certainly be the last. Unlike breasts, even the most beautiful ass cheeks lose all their charm once removed. They had been like a puddle of amorphous fatty tissue, resting unrecognizable on the floor.

I straddled the girl’s stomach again, and positioned the blade between her breasts. The serrations dug into the right udder and blood began flowing as I started sawing through her. Her blood flowed over my penis and into the crack of my ass. Within moments, I was halfway through. Gravity offered a kind hand and tore through the last inch of her breast meat.

I began removing sawing away her other perfect tit. Her chest slumped as the last piece of connective tissue tore. Both tits now swung freely, impaled on the large fishhooks. They were the river to Hell’s version of the clichéd old boot. Her flat chest resembled a cut of beef that had been prepared by a novice butcher with a plastic knife. Chunks of red flesh hung over her side and jagged lacerations pulsated with streams of blood. Globs of yellow fat were exposed and looked like scattered pieces of wet popcorn. The beautiful, disgusting ruins of her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, any one of which may very well have been her last.

I got off the girl, and hurried upstairs, content to drip blood and gore onto my immaculate floor. I took three vials of the stimulant and rushed back to the girl.

The dying cunt’s blood stream flooded with a heroic dose of the powerful drug. It would probably have given her a heart attack, if I’d have let it run its full course. I knelt next to the girl, a small paring knife in my hand. As I waited for her to come to, I sliced tiny slivers of flesh from her chest and forced them into her mouth.

Her eyes burst open, and immediately began rolling back into her head. I drove the small knife into her belly button and twisted it. “LOOK AT ME!” I shouted, slicing a three inch gash into her belly. “LOOK AT ME!” I was growling as I dropped the knife and shoved my hand into her abdomen. The bitch refused to look. I could see small crescent slivers of her pupils oscillating in and out of view as they twitched spastically. I took a chuck of her hair with my left hand and pulled my right from her belly. With a blood and gore coated right hand, I slapped the girl repeatedly. Her eyes finally seemed to focus on me and took on a beseeching droop. I shoved my hand back into her belly, and squeezed her slippery, thick intestines.

Pain didn’t register on her face as I began yanking her coiled digestive tract from her body. I pulled several feet from her and draped it over her chest, forcing her to look at it. Her eyes widened, fear and desperation permeated them. I straddled her and felt her warm, expelled viscera slipping and squeezing between my ass and thighs. The girl’s mouth fell open, and she mouthed the word “Please” , silently and repeatedly. I leaned over her, and put my face to hers.

“Remember what I said?” I yelled into her conquered face. “Do you know what will happen to you?” The girl closed her mouth and swallowed.

“Yes.” She said in a barely audible, hoarse whisper. “Please. . .kill. . .me.” I couldn’t help smiling. She’d willed her soul to the devil. The good little Christian cunt accepted an eternity of torment, perpetuity of agonizing pain and fear.

I reached into her mouth with my left hand and pulled down on her lower jaw. With the heel of my right hand, I pressed up on her upper jaw. I gritted my teeth, and split the girl’s mouth open. Her cheeks split toward her ears, and her mouth instantly filled with blood. I reached for the knife and buried it into her neck once, twice, a dozen times. Her eyes finally stopped twitching, and the blood in her throat stopped gurgling. I buried the blade into her lifeless right eye, splashing my hand with blood and clear ocular fluid.

I rolled off the girl, exhausted but excruciatingly erect. I grabbed a handful of her intestine, folded it over the knife, and sliced up through it like a butcher cutting twine. A foul smell filled the room as I sheathed my penis into the exposed tract of her intestine. I used the girl’s digestive tract as a crude sort of Fleshlight. For a few minutes I stroked, the dead girl’s body beginning to cool next to me.

I hoped that Hell was real. I hoped to eventually see all the girls I’d sent there boiling in vats of liquid feces. Their flesh rotting and peeling away from their splintered bones. “Remember me, cunts!” I’d say taking my rightful seat at the throne, becoming the king of all suffering.

The fantasy broke as I began to shoot off into the dead teen. I pumped my hand harder, gritting through the pain.

My body finally went limp.

I stared up at my ceiling, the girls severed tits dangling a few feet away in my periphery. My mouth was dry, my body ached, and my cock burned with the girl’s digestive juices. I closed my eyes, and listened to Autumn’s blood as it dripped and splashed down the drain.

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