ANNIVERSARY

Feature Writers: Karen

Feature Title: ANNIVERSARY

Published: 01.10.2022

Story Codes: Young Ones, NC, Rape, Snuff, Torture, Cannibalism.

Disclaimer: the characters and events depicted in this work are fictional. The author does not condone or promote any unlawful activity such as is depicted in the story. By continuing to read this work you acknowledge that you are an adult who wishes to read works of fantasy and fiction for the purpose only of fantasy. All the characters in this story are adults. They may play different ages for the fictional character that they are depicting but they remain at all times adults / Any who are connected with the creation or delivery of this fictional work in no way supports or subscribes to it’s content nor are they to be considered responsible for purposely trying to offend the conscience of those who continue to read the following material if they find it offensive or objectionable. Please do not alter content or attachments in any way or use for profit.

Warning: This manuscript is for adult consideration only. Do not permit it to children under any conditions. Contents are of an extremely perverse sexual nature and may depict various acts of violence and/or depraved sexual practices including non-consensual bisexual incest, pedophile activity, abortion for sexual pleasure, torture of pregnant women and young children resulting in death and dismemberment for sexual pleasure, etc. If you are opposed to such reading, destroy and dispose of manuscript immediately. If you are unsure and begin reading only to find the subject matter offensive stop and destroy and dispose of manuscript immediately. Any resemblance to past, present or future characters, events, places and situations contained in this fictional work is purely coincidental.

Anniversary

“I am as giddy as a school girl. The kill last night was positively wonderful. I never thought of suffocation and drowning with urine. You are so creative. Although with your love of piss games it doesn’t surprise me that you would have come up with the idea. And I’m sorry I took the child’s life at the very end by placing her face to my cunt. It wasn’t my premeditated intention to steal the kill away from you.

“It’s just that I too wanted to feel her death tremors as they convulsed around your throbbing cock planted so deep in her tight little rectum. I needed to be connected to you in that fashion as she died. Don’t worry my darling, there will be plenty more kills ahead. You will end the life of many by suffocating them with your piss. I will see to that. But now I get to perform specifically for you.

“I hope you will be pleasantly surprised how cold-hearted and cruel your wife can be. Would you please get the alum powder? Thank you darling. Let’s go down to the basement now. This cunt needs to kill (giggle). Yes I have by little bag of tools. Oh … and don’t forget the camera.

“It thrills me to know that we have turned this sweet little country cottage into Hell on Earth for two precious little girls. Precious to their parents as all little girls are. But especially precious to our beautifully dark needs. This cottage of such quaint beauty on the outside now nothing more then a lovely disguise for the hideous atrocities being committed behind its painted veneer. You know more then any other my darling how I love to take beauty as others see beauty and corrupt it to be as we see it. This cute vacation cottage now a mockery of the wholesome beauty it and its surroundings reflect. I just love it. Oops … There I go with my philosophy shit again. Sorry.”

Both of us naked.

My breasts and ass flesh jiggling with each skip down the cellar steps. With your constantly hard cock bouncing, down the stairs we go. It is pitch black in the basement. I flick on the small electric light bulb hanging from the ceiling. It is cold and damp with the smell of stale urine in the air. The little body of Suzy lay at her friend Carolyn’s feet, pliable again. Rigor mortise had passed. Soon she would begin to smell. But we will remove her by then.

Shifting my gaze from dead little Suzy to sweet Carolyn’s young pale body which is slumped down with fatigue from her previous abuse and long lonely sleepless night, I think … One down, one to go. The shackles are cutting deep into her wrists. She appears as though she is in a deep sleep. She is a tough one. Still in pretty good shape. She should be able to last a while. To suffer awhile. You asked me if my fiery auburn hair alluded to my need for blood spilling.

“Not really. Just as with scat I don’t like it particularly messy or like to smear it. It does get a bit bloody gutting a full term pregnant women for her fetus though. And I always wanted to gut a very young female toddler and watch her expire, while masturbating of course. A beheading I think would be wonderful too. Especially if your cock was up the child’s ass and ready to shoot off at the time it’s head was severed. That certainly would be bloody I’m sure. Under those delicious conditions you know I would adapt to the mess. Mostly though, I like twisting and breaking little limbs. Cigarette burning, hat pins, knitting needles, ice picks, a baseball bat. Anything for blunt force trauma. Things like that. I adore suffocation, strangulation, slow drowning, forced choking. As you can see I’m a multifaceted woman. (wicked smile) Anyway … I have work to do and I want you to be comfortable. Please sit over there in the lounge chair, relax and just watch. Stroke if you must. But please save your ejaculation.”

She hasn’t stirred since our arrival. How rude.

“I think it’s time for her to wake and face the day. Don’t you darling?” I say to you as I walk to her.

Gently I place my left hand over her ball gagged mouth and nose. She’s beginning to stir. Then with my right hand clenched in a fist I punch her in the softness of her defenseless abdomen. She woke up then! Her eyes flew open. The vacuum of her breath trying to inhale through her cute little nose against my hand is very pleasant.

“Good morning little one,” I say peering deep into her pale blue adolescent eyes already filled with fear and terror, “How are you this morning? Oh yes, it is morning now dear. A new day. Saturday. I bet your family and the family of your little friend are frantic that you both didn’t return home from school yesterday afternoon. Don’t worry little one. You won’t get into trouble. Because you will never see them again.”

I chuckle. She is trying to say something through her ball gag. She is crying again.

“Alright little one. Just relax. I’ll hear what you wish to say,” you hear me tell her as I remove her gag.

I usually prefer quiet moans and grunts from beneath their gags when I torture the children, but today I wish to hear this child’s screams of agony, for a while anyway.

“Oh please lady! Please! Don’t hurt me! If you let me go I won’t tell! Please! It’s my birthday today. My mom has a party planned for me. I’m eleven years old today. Pleeeze!”

Hearing that my heart skips a beat and my cunt violently quivers. I look over at you.

You are smiling and shaking your head as you chime, “You are such a lucky whore to get one on her birthday.”

“Careful with that darling,” I reply eyeing your very rigid cock being stroked faster by your own hand.

It is glistening in the dim light covered thickly with your precum. I want to come over to you, go to my knees and let you copulate with my mouth. But that must wait for another time.

“If you get off before I am ready for you, you better be able to get it up again,” I laughingly continue.

As a surprise to the child I haul off and punched her in the abdomen again, even harder this time. The breath leaves her in a great whoosh. She mews and grunts.

“You must stop your crying you little bitch. It is upsetting.” I look your way and wink, “I have some questions for you.” I say to her.

Now we learned more of her and her friend’s family backgrounds. I ask the child of her hopes and dreams. Her fears and loves. Of her pet kitty, Fuzzy Cat and the family dog, Rexy. I want to know as much as I can of the child prior to taking her life. At least as much as time would allow. I want for those I sacrifice for our depraved love to be very real to me. I want to do them purposely, deliberately, premeditatedly, with full conscience knowledge of what I am doing. Knowledge of personal and family details will make the slaughter so much more real to me. Not just some nameless young face here then gone. But a real live little person. Suffering and dying slowly at my hands for my pleasure. And for your pleasure my darling husband. It’s time now.

“Time for your wife to torture this child to death … Those words are beautiful to you aren’t they my love?”

First the cigarettes from my little bag. I usually use two. It will take about twenty minutes for this phase. I light the first one. Draw deep to fire the tip to a bright hot red. I don’t inhale. Bad for your health you know (giggle). Now let’s see what kind of reaction we get from little Carolyn as I touch the tip to one adolescent nipple.

“Holy shit … Did you hear her scream?”

Good thing the basement is sound proof. I leave it there until it begins to blister her skin, then char it. The child is in exquisite pain. She twists and squirms. Now the other nipple. Ah yes … scream you little bitch. I lean into her and kiss her screaming mouth. I taste her fresh child’s breath. Fresh even after hanging there all night. I taste her drool and even her snot as she whimpers and cries. Her tears are salty. I kneel and taste her sweet little vagina.

She’s still stands on tiptoe which keeps her legs together. I am able to make some access with my tongue through the split of her pubic mound. My tongue reaches her little clitoris. I taste her stale urine from where she has relieved herself down her legs to the floor during the night. The child is breathing deeply and rapidly now. She sobs uncontrollably. I think to myself.

“Stupid little fuck-toy. Your suffering has only just begun.”

I spread those hairless little puffy lips apart exposing her little clitoris. Taking the lit cigarette I place it close to her clit but do not touch it to the tender pink flesh. Close enough though to burn her painfully. She continues to scream and twist about in her shackles. Her clitoris is now swollen and blistered. I spend the next fifteen to twenty minutes burning the child all over her body. Her legs and arms. Her belly and what used to be her pretty little face.

I, from time to time, punch her in her abdomen which is now showing deep bruises.

“The bluish purple discoloration of her pale delicate skin is beautiful is it not my darling?”

I must kiss her screaming lips again. Mmmm. Her breath rapid as it is mingles with mine. Both cigarettes are now completed. Next phase the hat pins and knitting needles. So long. So sharp. Again from my little bag of tools.

As I walk toward the child I show her the hat pins that I am holding in my hand. Her eyes plead with me, begging me for mercy. I tell the child that I will soon kill her as I did her friend. Only in a way much more horrible. Much more painful. I want to hear her plead with her lips as she continues to do with her eyes.

I step to the child and insert one hat pin through the flesh behind one charred nipple. There is a little resistance at first, then in it pushes through exiting about two inches from where it entered. The child now in excruciating pain blubbers and slobbers as she begs for me to stop.

I tell her, “I’ll stop when it’s time for you to die my dear,” and softly laugh wickedly in her ear.

Now she begins to beg for her life. As her heart breaking pleads issue from her lips I almost violently cum on the spot. To hold it off I concentrate on pushing another hat pin into the child’s soft flesh. This one behind the other nipple. More screams, more begging and more drooling escape her little mouth. And more of my vagina discharge runs down my legs.

Two more hat pins I skewer through the flesh of her abdomen. Then another through each inner thigh. Next the two knitting needles my love. Can you guess where they will go? First one will go through one side of the face through her cheek. Continuing through the tongue and exiting through the cheek on the other side of her face.

I look into the child’s horrified eyes and say, “Jesus Christ Carolyn, that must really hurt.”

I laugh at her helplessness. At her extreme suffering. Then spit directly into her face. One knitting needle to go. I kneel before her and place it in the folds of her little vagina. I position it just under and behind her burnt little clitoris. Then I slowly but steadily push in and up. As it continues to pierce the child we can actually see it just under the flesh travel up toward the child’s navel until out it protrudes for about one half of an inch from her soft abdomen.

The child is wild now. Twisting and kicking. Like a fish out of water desperate to breath. The screams of excruciating pain beyond what we can imagine is music to our ears. Yes … This child is tough. She is strong. Clinging to life through such excruciating pain. I don’t know where she is getting her energy. One thing is for certain … her kicking about must stop. I go through the door to our left which enters your maintenance shop and I bring out a five pound mallet. I waste no time in first breaking one knee then the other. It only takes one hit each to accomplish this end. She will kick no more. She screams out in more unimaginable pain and passes out.

“I am tired of hearing her screams and replace the ball gag. I know you love to hear the screams. This is where we differ some. The screaming gets on my nerves after a while. Oh no darling, it’s not that they soften my heart. I just find them irritating. To me screaming is an outlet or release to some degree for the pain being experienced. To repress it I feel makes our guest’s suffering greater. Watch how I will revive her.”

I take some of the alum powder on the tip of my finger and dab it into the outer corner of each eye. I understand that there can be no greater pain inflicted to the eye then from alum powder. Her eyes again snap open. I have never seen such a look. God … the pain must be indescribable from her abused eyes and shattered knees. Look at her arch against her shackles.

The violence of her movements are causing her broken knee joints to tear through the flesh. The alum powder liquefied by her tears now spread over the total surface of both eyes. I have never seen such beautiful suffering before. To keep from being pushed over the threshold to orgasm by this absolutely wonderful sight I must busy myself again — I deliver additional hard closed fist punches to her stomach and abdomen.

“Between death dealing pain. The knitting needle through her cheeks and tongue immobilizing it to some degree. The ball gagged forced tightly into her mouth. And now my punches to her gut without mercy To say that she is on the brink of suffocation from her own mucus and saliva, not being able to catch her breath, is a bit of an understatement wouldn’t you say husband?”

I come to you now to give her time to regain some composure for the finale. I do not wish that she pass out again. I want her alert for what comes next.

“Look at you darling … You have managed to hold off your ejaculation. Jesus Christ! I have never seen you so fucking hard. Nor so violet in color. It is magnificent! How I wish to sit on it. Or to take into my mouth. But hold off just a little longer. You will find the wait worth your while. We both will. God! Look at it standing. I can see it lurch with every beat of your heart. Don’t touch it baby. Your balls are tight against you. You know what that means. Think of work Monday. Anything to back off from the edge.”

“Speaking of work, look at my work darling. Broken and beaten. A defenseless innocent little girl. Just yesterday heading home after school with her whole life ahead of her. Looking forward to her birthday party today. To get one on her birthday we are so lucky. Are you proud of me? Have I measured up to your expectations? Did you truly realize what I was really capable of?

“So many men think that it is only the male gender which can enjoy such brutality, such disregard for human life and society’s standards. They can’t seem to realize that the female gender can experience the same pleasure from such actions, such atrocities. As you can see my love … we do! I think even more so then males.

“How do you think I feel as a woman who’s gender is responsible for birthing life after growing it in their own bodies? Who are responsible for nurturing and caring for life? Who society has dictated as representing all that is good and wholesome? Of all that is tender and loving? I am not only in the process of taking this child’s life, I am doing so in the most horrific ways one can think of. And as much as I do so for your pleasure my husband I do it for my pleasure as well.

“It elevates me. It empowers me. The fact that it is additionally against my own gender makes my pleasure even greater. Remember yesterday darling? Both girls kept looking to me for first rescue, then mercy. Remember the pleading in their eyes as they looked to me? Oh yes, I know you enjoyed it. But you could not have enjoyed it to the degree that I enjoyed it. It was I who they were looking to. I who they thought would stop your assault.

“The look in their eyes was priceless. They clung to hope right to the end. Yes … so priceless. The surprised look on the children’s faces I will never forget when in their inexperienced immature minds it finally dawned on them that I was not their helper but yours. Then the helplessness in Carolyn’s baby blues after she witnessed her little friend savagely choked to death with your still erect cock shoved down her throat after your ejaculation and pissing down her gullet like a race horse. Watching her friend and playmate spasm and convulse in death throes while I stared wide eyed at the scene masturbating my ass off. The word to describe the look in her eyes can only be …. exquisite! So you see my love, in reality my sin is greater. The greater the sin the grater the pleasure, would you not agree?”

Looking over to Carolyn, I see she has calmed. She is quietly whimpering. On the verge of shock and death. Her energy, her fight, her young spirit broken. I have read that when pain gets to a certain level of intensity the body automatically begins to shut its pain sensors down. I think she has reached that level and more.

I take you by the hand and guide you up from the chair. Your cock still sticking out harder then I have ever seen it before. A symbol to me of my accomplishment for you. The love of my life. My soul mate. God, how tender I feel towards you now my darling. As you stand looking into my eyes you so gently take my face into your hands. You guide my lips to yours. The kiss as always takes my breath away. My lips part to accept your invading tongue. I taste your saliva. Breath in through my nose the breath that you have exhaled from yours. The world stands still if just for only a moment. Oh my darling how I love you so.

“Okay! Okay! Come now,” I say breaking the kiss.

After reaching into my little bag of tools and strapping the gift you gave me after our second kill around my naked upper thigh I lead you to her. As you stand in front of her a foot or so away I take her face in hand and call her name.

“Carolyn! Wake-up slut meat!”

She stirs to greater consciences and begins to sob more heavily again.

“If you will stop your fucking crying I will remove this,” I say tugging on the ball gag.

She looks at me with severely blood shot eyes from all the crying and irritation from the alum powder. Her gaze is pitiful but only heightens my arousal. She trembles visibly as she nods her head to the affirmative. I remove the gag wet and slimy from her oral and nasal secretions.

“My husband is going to make a real women out of you now! Do you understand?” I say to her heatedly.

Through the fog of pain she manages to look at me with question in her eyes. Good … I think to myself. She still has understanding. There is still some life to those eyes even though it may be reflecting weak.

“He’s going to fuck you my dear,” I continued with a noticeable wicked tone.

The questioning look immediately turned to one of dread as she began to shake her head no. Even after all the physical abuse, the agonizing pain, the fear and terror, the fact that my husband was going to have intercourse with this little virgin struck a cord at some level in her which told her that what was now to happen was the greatest sin that could ever be perpetrated on her.

Why this is what a mommy and daddy do to make babies. You have to be married or it is a sin before God to do this or have it done to you the child must be thinking. Acting on the hunch that this is what must be going through her little mind and knowing from the crucifix that she had been wearing that she was probably being raised Catholic, plus knowing some about the Catholic faith I start on her.

“Yes my darling Carolyn … you will die very soon now. And the last thing you will know is my husband fucking you. Making a baby in you. You know you will burn forever in Hell for this, don’t you my sweet? You and the baby my husband is going to make in you. Your little baby. And it will burn and suffer forever in Hell with you because it won’t be baptized. The Devil will torture you worse then we have. You and your little baby too. Your Mommy and Daddy will be in Heaven. Suzy is in Heaven now because she is still a virgin with no baby inside her. Even Fuzzy Cat and Rexy will be in heaven. They will all forget about you Carolyn. You will be alone and in pain forever. I hear that babies in Hell are all born crippled and disfigured. Sometimes with their guts hanging out and everything.”

I finally hit the mental nerve I was hoping for before it would be over for her. She is quite alert now and is frantic from what I told her. The silly little stupid bitch I laughing thought to myself. Her parents had taught her well. Or so they thought. Now all they and their priest had taught her was backfiring. Instead of their teachings bringing hope and comfort to deal with things she may have faced in her future they are acting to horrify her mentally and emotionally beyond anything I could have concocted.

“Are you ready to take your pleasure my darling?” I say looking you directly into your eyes flashing that wicked little smile of mine that you say turns you on so, “Wait baby! I don’t want you to hurt yourself!” I exhort directing your gaze down to the knitting needle still in-bedded under the clitoris of her virgin vagina.

Reaching down to remove it I do so slowly, twisting and turning it in the process. Not yet fully withdrawing it I push it in and out a few times. Oh my! There’s still fire left in the bitch after all. Her body jerks and shutters as I attack her with the knitting needle. Blood is running down my hand. Good! Perfect to lube your entrance. To make the penetration of your steel hard organ more comfortable for you my darling husband. I reinsert the knitting needle to the hilt only this time positioned in front of her clitoris and on a slight angle up into her abdomen so that it won’t protrude and poke you my love.

The sounds she is making are unlike any I have heard before. A crying wailing sound broken by efforts of begging speech. Efforts which are thwarted by the knitting needle through her cheeks and tongue.

“Christ baby! Do you hear her? Have you ever heard such divine music?” I laughing say to you.

“She sounds like a retard. A fucking Mongoloid retard!”

(Mental note to myself … We must certainly do a disabled child. One of those so sparkly and positive by nature. One that everyone always thinks of as such an example of great bravery in the face of their disability. We’ll see how brave it will be in our hands. Hey! At least the little cripple will experience some sex before it’s gone.)

“Look at her my darling. Listen to her. She is not much more then an animal now. Pre dead meat for your enjoyment.”

As I speak I take your cock and pull you closer to her. Her speared nipples now brush your chest. They are swollen and heard. Even a bit crisp from their burned and blistered condition.

I nudge the head of you dripping cock against her virgin slit and whisper softly and wickedly into your ear, “Make a women of her my husband. Make a women of her before I kill her my love.”

Now I stand back and watch my master at work. Your movements are so fluid … so graceful. You reach around and under the child grasping her tight young buttocks and lift her. Her broken knees shift causing her crying to intensify as you place your legs between hers to facilitate the spreading of them.

Aligning your throbbing organ to her small bloodied opening you press slowly but steadily in until you encounter her hymen. Then as it is your practice with little girls you continue to press slowly forward knowing that this will inflict the greatest pain in tearing through her virginity. When you have fully in-bedded you cock deeply into her belly you stop to gain control of your orgasm.

You let the weight of the child relax from your gripping hands so that her body will slide down with greater force on your instrument of impalement. You can feel her pubic bone pressing down tight against the top of your cock where it extends long and hard from your body into hers. As she sobs her body shakes and trembles, the subtle movement intensifying your pleasure.

Added to this she convulses from time to time causing her vaginal muscles to squeeze your lovely fuck tool. Holding her in this fashion while pressing her tight to the wall you turn to me. Your eyes are glazed and bright with an unholy light. Your breathing is steady but deep and labored, drool runs from the corner of your mouth.

I stand on tippy-toes and lean in toward you with my pink wet tongue extended. I lap at your delicious drool then dart my tongue in between your slightly parted lips. The invasion turns into a gentle but passionate kiss. I realize how much effort it is taking you not to unload into the little slut. I break off the kiss with my eyes never leaving yours and take the child’s head in my right hand.

Still with out my eyes breaking contact with yours I tilt her head towards mine bringing my open mouth to hers. As my lips seal to hers I feel her struggle for breath. My probing tongue meets her squirming tongue. I encounter the knitting needle and explore the foreign and obscene feel of it spiked through her battered and bruised once all American clean pretty face.

Now my eyes do shift from yours. Shift from yours to hers, there is not much time left. I must synchronize my actions now with what short time there is. Watching her dimming eyes closely I reach to the device holder I have strapped to my leg and slowly relieve it of its contents. Your gift of a gleaming sharp ice pick with a custom fitted laced leather grip handle.

As I now press my slightly spread thighs against your thigh and also come into contact with her young slender thigh I position the ice pick to the side rear of her left thigh. Slowly I push. As usual there is some resistance at first. But then it begins to puncher her flesh. The feel is slightly gritty as it enters the muscle.

Again there is spark shown in the child’s eyes. New fresh intense pain. I am told there is nothing more painful then a puncture wound. Even more painful if delivered slowly. The child is so weak now and slipping into pre-death shock that her lurching in response to this new pain is minimal. Yet the severity of the pain she is feeling can be felt in the spasms and trembling of her flesh pressed against ours.

I can only imagine the feeling that your hard sensitive cock must be experiencing from the shudders that I am sure are extending to the muscles of her raped little girl hole. Withdrawing the implement of painful torture I puncture her again and again in her thigh and also in her left buttock.

“Not yet darling. Hold just a few more minutes.” I say to you.

I don’t know who suffering more now, you for your need to release your load into the dying child or her need to go to sleep forever. You nod your head yes regarding my request to stay your climax while you gaze deep into her eyes.

Now a puncture stab in the kidneys. She actually tries to twist with this violation to her flesh. Even in the kidneys a puncture wound doesn’t bleed much at all, but the pain is known to be excruciating. Only a young healthy child has the resiliency to take such abuse and last so long. Another reason it is so much fun to take a child for the kill.

“Now darling,” I simply say. Added the words … “I love you so much.”

I place the pick to the left side about center of her rib cage and slowly (always slowly) push to piercing her lung. Leaving the pick embedded momentarily, I rotate it for the purpose of tearing the lung as much as possible. Carolyn now coughs up blood which sprays all over your chest while making the most adorable gargling noises.

I begin to stab her in the lung alternating with her kidney more rapidly now. Again and again. Purposely and deliberately, knowing full well that my intention is painful murder of this innocent fuck toy. I am delirious with the wicked down right evil feelings that are coursing through me. You have gripped her buttocks again but this time with all your strength and are pumping into her like a man possessed.

If she wasn’t strung like a bow from the pain she would have probably appear as a little floppy rag doll pressed tightly between you and the cold block wall. Now the unmistakable death rattle we have come to know so well.

As she wheezes and chokes on her own blood I take her head again in my hand and look directly into her dying little blue eyes and say … “You have a baby now. Tell the devil we said hi. And Carolyn … Happy Birthday!”

With that she exhales for the last time as I again placed my mouth to hers and take her last breath for my own. She tenses even more then goes limp pushing down on your organ with dead weight. You cruelly arch to her and ejaculate as her final shudder milks you of your seed as if performing one last pitiful attempt to cling to what that seed represents … life.

Your climax is glorious. Head thrown back. Teeth gritting. Eyes closed. Grunting and moaning. Your breath coming in short strong bursts. All the muscles in your body drawn tight like one giant sinew. Your beautiful buttocks hollowed on their sides as you strain to discharge every last drop of your love fluid.

Your body is trembling now. Time has stopped for you hasn’t it my dear? As I continue to press against the two of you I feel the energy radiating from you, a contrast to Carolyn’s lifeless body. I press my face to your shoulder. Burying it there, concentrating on your movements and smelling your musk. I have been mildly climaxing through the whole ordeal. Enjoying an ecstatic high from the kill. I will save what I know will be one of the most intense orgasms I have ever had for later this evening. We still have much to do. I love being creative. And it’ll be that time in just a few minutes more.

A beautiful eternity has passed for you. You slowly are coming down from a special high that very few even know exists. As you relax you slightly squat so that the girl’s weight is again supported by her wrist shackles enabling you to withdraw. I slid down the side of your body to my knees for a close up look as you uncouple from her. You cock slides out with a squelching sound dripping blood and semen. It is still magnificently erect. I envelope it in my mouth deep. Then slowly with lips ringed tight slide back sucking and scraping the delicious gruel into my hungry mouth.

Your cock now sticks out from your body clean and wet with my saliva. A contrast to your balls and pubic hair still matted and covered with rape fluids. Now a kiss to Carolyn’s sweet dead slit. I probe with my tongue feeling her burnt blistered burnt crispy clitoris and the head of the buried knitting needle. I notice her body has already began to cool down. I just take a quick taste of her mingled fluids. I don’t want her to appear clean for what comes next. It’s show time! And we must get a move on before rigor mortis sets in on our dear Carolyn.

“Please hand me the camera darling.”

Isn’t technology just great? With digital cameras you can save your pictures to computer. You can adjust color contrasts and brightness. With out being a professional you can have real quality prints. And all in the privacy of your own home. No more worrying about the integrity of some one, even sympathetic to your personal needs of the extreme, developing your very private pictures.

Our show time is for our review when waning nostalgic and also for the parents of our little girls. They are our little girls now because their little lives belong to us. We took them and used them in ways that make us one with them that go way beyond what is normally considered as the joining two bodies. I take various pictures of Carolyn at different angles.

As I study my angle with each picture I can’t help but notice how severely her body is abused. When one is enjoying themselves so much inflicting the abuse they don’t often appreciate until surveying the scene afterwards how much damage they really have inflicted. It appears that I am even better at what I inflicted then I thought.

The damage to the child was thoroughly brutal to say the least. I also concentrated in getting clear quality pictures of her face. She had died with her eyes wide open. Her blank stare though dim reflected the mental, emotional and definite physical agony she experienced at the time of death.

This is very important to me, it intensifies the orgasms I will experience from masturbating over these pictures many times in the future between kills. And not of any less value is the effect such visuals will have on what I have planned for the parents. Especially the mommies. All the love and effort birthing and nurturing their girls … all gone (wicked laugh and a strong tingle in my clitoris).

“Yes darling, the scalpel is in my tool bag.”

You now retrieve the scalpel and step to Carolyn. You are such a master at what comes next. You unceremoniously deeply slice open her chest running the scalpel down between her flat breasts. Then actually punch between her ribs to her heart. Now grasping the still warm organ firmly you pull. There is little blood with out it beating. With a very audible sucking noise and subtle soft snapping sounds of stretched tearing veins and arteries her little chest gives up its prized organ.

“Stick it in her mouth baby,” I instruct.

With this done I snap away. Three, four, five pictures at different angles. Finally after eighteen hours we release her from her shackles. She immediately falls face first on the hard cement floor with a dull thud. Her little head bounced so adorably. (giggle) I noticed for the first time what a pretty ass she has.

“Let’s stick something up her ass for more pictures.”

Looking around I see an empty glass soda type bottle. Perfect I thought. Tapered at one end and hard surfaced for easy entry and wide enough at the bottom to look really obscene. Plus it was clear. At the right angle the inside of her winked little rectum will be visible deeply into her bowels. I liberally wet the bottle with my saliva and slowly push it in deep. As I do so a loud aromatic death fart escapes her rectum.

“Jesus Christ!” I exclaim giggling to you, “What a little pig!”

More pictures and again from various angels.

“You know what’s next, don’t you love?” I ask.

Rolling her over we remove her heart from her mouth but leave the knitting needle still in place. Again for effect when the body is found. I hand you the camera and squat facing her feet with my asshole positioned right over her open mouth. I only had to slightly strain and with a grunt I deposited quite a load into her oral cavity.

You snap away as you compliment me on how sensuous my wide hips look flared out over her face as I squat. I was glad now that I hadn’t got that tattoo on my ass cheek. Best not to have any identifying marks showing in the picture. We are always very careful how we arrange the entire scenario of every kill.

With forensics as they are today with all the higher technology used it becomes very necessary to hone one’s cover up skills. Even when a scare, a tattoo, or mark of any kind is hidden with liquid facial makeup it can be detected in a photo with the right equipment. The exact shape or definition of a mark my not be viewable but the authorities would know there was something there that was covered up.

Anyway … after I had completed my special offering to our dead little guest I relax my urinary muscles and let go with a stream of piss which arched high and landed in the gaping incision where you removed her heart. As it actually pooled there I thought, how cool. How fucking cool. Next you help me wrap duct tape over her mouth and twice around her entire head to keep my offering securely in place.

“I’ll get the hacksaw darling.”

I offer as I again bounce into your shop. Returning I find you holding her heft hand positioning it for the cut.

“May I?” I ask.

“Be my guest,”

You reply with a quirky little smile. Kneeling beside you I begin the cut. Hum, I think. Just like cutting through chicken meat and bone. Really quite easy. The sinews hang up briefly but really don’t interfere with the cut much at all. I pick up the child’s heart from the floor and lay it along with her severed hand on her lower belly. After weaving her crucifix necklace through the fingers of the hand I take more pictures. Pictures which will be priceless to us in the coming years.

“I have a great idea for some pictures for you and Suzy together. Help me lay her out on the table.” We pick little Suzy up and stretch her out on an old kitchen table we have stored in the basement. Her flesh is limp and cold and clammy. It always amazes me how limp a body becomes after the stiffness subsides. I pull her by the shoulders so that her head is dangling off the edge of the table. As you watch I take the scalpel and neatly slice her throat. Again with no beating heart there is just a trace amount of blood. Her little head swings down as if it were hinged. As you watch wondering what I am up to your cock has been lengthening and hardening.

“Come, step over here.” I say to you.

I have you position yourself over her hanging head then take your hard cock in hand. As I guide you to the opening of her partially severed neck you quickly get the idea. Squatting slightly so the alignment will be true I guide your stiff member into the opening. Slowly you enter until you bottom out. Your balls are hanging down over her face.

“Don’t move,” I say, “Let me get some pictures.”

As I snap a variety of pictures you begin to slowly pump in and out.

“How’s it feel?” I ask you.

“Very chilled as you would expect. The throat channel is fairly tight. But the ridges of the esophagus feel great as they kind of ripple across where the head attaches to the shaft as I pump her. Quite a unique sensation I must say. I like it. I like it very much.”

Your buttocks begin that delicious pumping motion that I love so to see. I am very careful with the picture taking not wanting to offer anything in them that could identify you.

To heighten both our arousal after I have finished taking the pictures of you copulating with the neck opening into her adolescent body, I go to the side of the girl and leaning over I spread her legs and take a lick at her little hairless slit. There is a slight odor of sourness from were the body is beginning slightly to decompose. The aroma and the thought of what I am doing sends shivers of intense lust through my entire body. As you watch I spread her little puffy pussy lips apart probing deeper into her cold vagina with my hot wet tongue. The flesh is so deliciously cold. Her slender thighs cold and clammy against my face.

There is moisture deep in her vagina. Not stale urine or even lube mucus. It too is sour. Sour smelling and sour to the taste. Some fluid discharge associated with the beginning of the decomposing process I imagine. God I feel so fucking depraved engaging in such a filthy irreverent act! I raise from by task to see you staring intensely at my actions. My face is glistening with the child’s vaginal death fluid and my own saliva. Your breath now quickens. You lean forward and brace yourself holding the child’s shoulders.

The speed of your stroking increases. Your eyes tell me that the moment has arrived for you. With out hesitation I again bury my face in the dead girl’s clammy pussy and enthusiastically consume the cold sour fluid seeping from her immature sex opening. As I root and snort between the dead child’s legs you orgasm filling the child’s esophagus with your warm semen. Upon hearing you moans and the obscenities you are voicing about how good it feels to be fucking this dead little fuck toy’s sliced throat while your whore wife sucks the death scum from her little cunt, I too orgasm and with out even touching myself as so often happens when engaging in such activities with you.

Boy that was so good! After a short recovery time its back to work. I find and hand you the scalpel. As you remove Suzy’s heart I grab the hack saw and sever her left hand as well. I take note of the charm bracelet she is wearing and leave enough of the wrist attached to the hand so that it will still accommodate the bracelet. I also note that her little finger nails have the type of finger nail polish with the multi colored sparkles.

Leaving the child on the table I place her severed hand with bracelet and her bloodied heart also on her lower belly as I had done with Carolyn and take some more pictures. I make sure to get some showing my husband’s sperm running out of her severed neck opening and running down her cherub like face. Wow! He shoot quite a load. It actually is running over her chin and lips. Into her open staring eyes. Across her forehead and dripping off her tasseled straight hair. Cool!

Next we position the bodies together in various poses. Some implying obscene sexual activity. Some for shock value. Others for nothing more then a record of the beautiful atrocity that we have committed. These will not only serve our pleasures for years to come but will also facilitate something very special in exactly one year from this day. You see I am a very sentimental woman. After all the pleasure the torture and slow death of the children afforded us I think it is only proper etiquette that we should wish the parents who supplied such beautiful children for our needs a happy special anniversary!

At least at the end of the first year. It is then that I will send them not only selected copies of the pictures we took but also the severed hands of their children along with the identifying bracelet and necklace. I will also include a note describing what a pleasure it was to slowly torturing their children to death for nothing more then the extreme sexual gratification it afforded those of us who have such special needs. I will describe how they suffered so very exquisitely and so on.

And how the hearts of their children were fried and then fed to a group of stray dogs which were thrilled to get them if the ravenous way they tore them apart and devoured them was any indication. Yes their children’s precious little hearts were fed to the dogs. Hopefully the healing of the girls’ families will be under way. Then … zip! I will pull the carpet right out from under them so to speak.

Just thinking of what will go through the mother’s minds at that time causes a feeling of intense but warm fuzzy pleasure to course through my very life force. Yes … my life is so wonderful. I wouldn’t trade it for nothing. Even if it means that I will come to some horrible end for my sins. The pleasure of the kill is just too beautiful to ever give up. To ever go with out.

Now we must position the girl’s bodies for transport. We must act before Carolyn becomes to stiff to work with. We won’t have time to wait for the rigor mortis to subside as it had in Suzy’s little body. While you hog-tie them both in tight little dead flesh bundles I’ll get the plastic garbage bags.

“I think we should double bag them. Don’t you agree dear? They deserve at least that much,” (I laugh), “After all, they have given us much pleasure,” (again I laugh), “Oh wait darling. Let’s not forget the Satan touch.”

Quickly I get the electric soldering gun from your handy shop and plug it into an outlet. After a few brief minutes it’s heated to temperature. I unplug it and run over to where you are ready to finish tying up the little bodies. Kneeling down next to them I proceeded to burn the shape of a pentagram into their foreheads.

The smell of burning flesh is starting to get me aroused again (as does everything it seems giggle). We do this figuring it will throw the authorities off a bit. Confuse them into thinking that our sweet guests fell victim to a Satanic cult or the like. This task being completed you proceed to hog tie the girls. While you do this I begin to thoroughly clean the basement of all relating to our little party with them.

When you truss up Carolyn bending her knees to her chest I notice that the bottle I stuck up her ass was beginning to push out. I move to you and with my breasts dangling and swaying provocatively over you I reach down and firmly push it back into her. I push it deep enough this time so that in her bent position it won’t have a tendency to come out again.

To where her sphincter slowly closes around it. Not from any muscle action. Just due to the fact that the bottle is so much larger at its bottom then is her rectal opening which fortunately is still a bit elastic. Of course more pictures should be taken. As the thought about securing more pictures goes through my auburn haired head I realize you have reached up and are tenderly caressing my full hanging breasts momentarily tugging on each of my turgid pink nipples. How sweet you are my love. I notice that your cock is again erect. After a lingering kiss on your lips I position my self so that I am laying across both girls naked dead bodies and gesture you to a position where you are sitting on the floor next to us.

Feeling the girl’s delicious cold flesh against mine I lean over you and smell you throbbing hard cock. The heat from it has caused the aroma of its soiled state to intensify. Oh my darling it smells so delicious. Dried semen and vaginal fluid from Carolyn mixed with the souring secretions from Suzy’s esophagus. And delicious traces of blood and stale urine from Carolyn as well. Yes an ambrosia of delight for a connoisseur for such.

Taking my time I smell deep under the ridge where the glands attach to the shaft. Where I find a cheesy like substance so aromatic just tempting me to taste. And that is exactly what I do. I engulf the head of your swollen organ between my painted lips, then using my tongue I polish it to a saliva washed clean. The taste is subtly foul but so exciting. I bob my head up and down now engaging in the rhythm of a classic blow job. My long tapered fingers with their sculptured nails wrapped around the base of your thick organ appear pale in contrast to its deep purplish red color. My long auburn hair fans out over your muscular thighs.

I no sooner notice that your testicles have drawn tight to your body then your organ gives a mighty throb and ejaculates your glorious seed of life. So warm and creamy. Again and again you discharge into my hungry mouth. I can’t swallow fast enough. Nor do I want to. I want to savor every warm sticky viscous drop. God you have so much. And after ejaculating several times in the past twenty-four hours.

Of course for as long as I have known you, you always were a fountain of liquid male seed. Suddenly you lurch as I suck hard on your cock as if it is a straw to the pool of life itself. In doing so you take me by surprise. I was not prepared for your violent plunge. I gag and blow your semen out of my nose. From dripping down my chin. From the overflow from my lips and from blowing your heavenly seed through my nose, my face is a mess with your sperm. I feel as though I am drowning in your semen. The taste. The feel. The smell. Jesus fucking Christ, I am so fucking hot my darling!

You hold by head firmly between your large strong hands. I couldn’t move my head off you if I wanted to, and I definitely don’t want to! You harshly pump into my mouth as you finish, in effect skull fucking me deep. To stabilize my position over the girl’s bodies with each hand I grab onto a handful of cold dead flesh. I think to my self … There is nothing more beautiful then child killers in love.

When you have finished using me like the filthy slut wife that I am you bend forward and gently kiss me then begin to lick my face clean of your warn liquid offering. You sense that I am at a fever pitch. My breathing is labored and shallow. My eyes glazed. My nipples are hard and protruding a good half an inch. Swollen and as hard as your erection was. My vagina is secreting lube mucous wetting my thighs.

Oh yes my love … I am thoroughly turned on. Being the true lover that you are you push me back over the slaughtered bodies. Spread my long legs high and wide over your shoulders and proceed to orally service me as I had you. Your rugged rough face brushes against the tender delicate pale flesh of my inner thighs. Your thick masculine tongue slithers over the inner lips of my hot wet vagina.

Then circles my clitoris. Now you gently suck on that slightly protruding and inflamed hard piece of gristle flesh. All my senses of pleasure have their beginning and their end at that spot. It is the very center of my being.

“Yes baby. Do me baby. Uhhh! Suck it baby. Suck my clit. Tongue fuck my whore hole.” I moan.

A much needed orgasm of great intensity washes over me now. Not what it will be like later but one that is certainly worth making note of. One that will take the edge off until this evening when we are back home. The feel of the cool dead flesh of the girls against my body aids in the pleasure I am experiencing. I just love killing children. Just fucking love it.

“We better get a move on,” you admonish, “It’s getting late and we still have a lot to do before we leave.”

Hesitantly I part from the feel of the girl’s bodies for the last time. But you are right my dear. We have to get a move on.

You finish packaging the girls while I erase all traces of their visit. We are quite good at this. One must get good, very good, at covering their tracts regarding such play. Forensic technology … remember. When your are finished your chore you open the cellar door which exits directly to the driveway. The morning sun virtually explodes into the darkened basement.

The Indian summer air rushes in cleansing the basement of the smell of stale urine and excrement. The smell of sex and the slight beginning odor of death. There is a soft breeze which blows some bright colored leaves down the cement steps. You grab one package and holding it in both arms to the front of you proceed up those steps to the van. I can’t help but notice the muscles ripple in the back of your thighs and buttocks. as you climb the stairs.

Your legs spread just enough so that I can see your heavy balls sway as you climb. You are such a sensuous man my husband. I decide to follow you outside to open the van’s side door for you. We are not concerned with nudity. Our weekend vacation cottage is so far off the beaten path very few even in the local area know that is here. Still you pause to take a through look around. I stand on the steps right behind you. My face is level with your delicious ass. I can’t help but lean to it and kiss your buttocks wetly with my open mouth. Then probe between them to your rectum with my saliva dripping tongue for a taste.

The coast is clear and you proceed outside robbing me of my snack while you laughingly say, “Don’t you ever get enough Karen? No wonder my ass is always chapped!”

“No,” I respond as I slide open the van door.

“When I’m dead is when I will have had enough … Ops! I better watch what I say about that around you. You murdering bastard,” I respond also laughingly.

With a thud you drop the package on the van floor. You turn to me taking my face between your hands and while looking deep and lovingly into my pale green eyes you press your lips to mine so gently. Like the caress of a butterfly’s wing.

When we break from the kiss you look so serious as you say, “Never you Karen. Never you my darling wife. You are my life. Our souls are as one in darkness. In wickedness. In evil. To end your life would end mine. We are forever the predator together. The slaughter is not for my pleasure alone, nor for your pleasure alone. The slaughter is for our pleasure forever together.”

Again you kiss me ever so gently only this time taking me into your embrace. The Autumn breeze is slightly cool. I close my eyes lost in the warmth of your naked flesh against mine. You are such a romantic man.

As you now go to the basement for the other body I gaze out at the beautiful landscape. It is a gorgeous day. Maybe about 1030AM. The sun is high enough over the mountains to shine warmly. The landscape is as colorful as a painter’s palate. And alive with the foliage dancing in the breeze. It’s so great to be alive. I feel loved and secure. Warm and satisfied. Fulfilled would be a good word to use also. I feel empowered and buzzed from the kills. When I say satisfied I mean with life. With what I am. With what I have done.

With what I share with my darling husband. Sexually I am satisfied to a degree but still I am charged with an under lying current of continuing sexual energy as I look forward to this evening home alone with the man of my life. My wonderful husband.

What happens next is pretty routine. We finish in the basement. I wrap the hearts to take with us and put them at the bottom of a picnic cooler filled with ice and bottles of mountain spring water (who’d ever thought we be paying good money for water?) and herbal iced tea. We will really fry them up and feed them to the dogs. Only our neighbor’s dogs. I also wrap the hands leaving Carolyn’s necklace with hers and Suzy’s bracelet on hers. I wrap them in plain white freezer paper then place them into a common freezer bag labeled pig’s feet for soup. Next they are placed in the freezer with other food items already there until it’s anniversary time (giggle). Next, shower and get dressed. Then close up and secure the cottage.

Okay! Okay! A girl has to let you all know what she’s wearing. Well let’s see … Jeans. Tight of course. Leather sneaks with white short socks. The kind that have a little turn down band of lacy trim at the tops. No panties. But with a panty shield in the crotch of the jeans. I have a tendency to have more then the average vaginal discharge and have been known to wind up with a wet spot on my ass when sitting for a long duration. And the ride home will be about six hours. Two hours to Benline were we plan to drop the girls off by their homes. Then another four hours or so back to our house. Depending on the Sunday evening traffic.

Oh yea … I’m wearing a dark purple slightly loose cashmere sweater tucked in. It has a slight zig-zag print to it. No belt. No bra. I love the feel of cashmere against my naked breasts. A black quilted type sleeveless vest. It’s short cut and very feminine. My long auburn hair in a loose pony tail. Wrist bracelet. Gold of course. No necklace. Let’s see … Earrings. Only two in each ear. One post and one small hoop in each. I don’t want people to think I’m an extremist (giggle). Earrings gold, also, last but not least ,my most cherished wedding and engagement rings. And yes my husband was very careful that they would not show in the pictures of me squatting and relieving myself in Carolyn’s dead little face.

We really are very efficient at what we do. Everything is wiped down including the bodies. We go to great lengths to cover our tracks. I just didn’t go into everything because I find the mechanics of such so boring to write about. Together we appear as the all American successful married couple in our mid thirties with a home in suburbia and two garage kept vehicles. Our very convenient mini van and a mid size four door luxury car. No pets. Too much responsibility right now. And no children. Yet! Of course they may not survive long under their parent’s roof. (low wicket and very serious laugh with a deep throb coursing through my clitoris again)

Well all is ready, so it’s off we go. As we turn from our stoned driveway onto the blacktop I already feel a longing for our little cottage in the mountains. But we will return soon and the adventure of dropping the girls off without being noticed is just beginning. The girl’s bodies really don’t look like the shape of bodies in the plastic garbage bags due to the way you hog tied them. Plus they have a blanket thrown over them and luggage around them. Also the mini van’s side and rear windows are tinted. Limited by what the vehicle laws permit in our state of course. We don’t want to break the law, now do we (big smile with eyes rolled up)? We don’t have a police scanner or even a radar detector. We are true blue on the up and up honest law abiding citizens. (bigger smile with rolled up eyes again)

On our way to the girl’s home in Benline we chat as any couple would. About family and friends. About work and things we want to do on the house. We want to add one of those all glass patio rooms. They appear as though they would be really great to relax in while reading or listening to music. I bet it would be nice to sit in a lounge chair and listen to and watch the rain. Or how about watching the snow at night reflected by the street post lights. Our neighborhood prides itself on it’s quaintness.

The streets are narrow with those nostalgic post type street lights. A really quite lovely neighborhood. And just think of opening the windows on a balmy summers’ night with the light of a full moon bathing the room. Hanging plants and floor potted ferns casting shadows throughout. Lay back on a thick bedding quilt spread out on the floor. Soft and comfortable. Then make long gentle quiet love with your favorite lover. Wonderful thought don’t you think?

On the outskirts of Benland we stop for a late lunch about 1.30 pm at a place called, “Uncle Jack’s.” Nice little place. Very quaint. Very cordial. Just as the town itself is noted for. We chat and laugh with some of the locals. Little do they know of our cargo. That in itself is more then just a little arousing.

And yes my husband steals other vehicle license plates when needed for our special visits to various places. Just in case they are watching for strangers in town. But an attractive couple such as us. In a mini van. Trust me. We don’t fit the profile they’re on the look out for. We don’t resemble the stereotype of Satanists or serial killers. We pull it off right under their noses. It’s so fucking exciting.

Now it’s time for the drop. Into the van and off to West Benline Circle. We know the area very well having cased it on numerous occasions and of course having snatched the girls in that vicinity just two days ago. We knew there would probably be surveillance in the immediate area of the girl’s homes since they had been reported missing.

We just didn’t know how much. Surely the parents were panicked but it usually takes a while longer before the authorities and the community as a whole panics. That’s why when returning children’s bodies to their home area we limit the torture to just a day or parts of two days. The window of opportunity tightens dramatically on the third and especially the fourth day after missing reports have been filed. Sometimes the weekend slows the authorities down in small communities due to less staff at that time. Then again some especially tight communities rally together quickly under any circumstances. Benline seems like a close community. We wonder what the challenges for the drop off will be. Again very exciting. So much fun. I know that my pulse is beginning to race. I have that giddy feeling again.

Since well left, “Uncle Jack’s,” I was driving. You being stronger sweet heart will push the bodies out the side door of the van very quickly as we slow down at the drop point. As we exit the Benline Circle I pick up Dainly Drive straight to Procter Lane where the girl’s houses were located.

Turning onto Procter Lane we notice about four or five blocks ahead a couple of local police cruisers and what appears to be a detective’s car parked in front of the girl’s addresses. The goal of the game is to get the drop as close to their homes as possible. It really pisses the authorities off to know that the killers were right under their noses. It also promotes the anger of the parents and the community against the police for being so inefficient.

About three blocks from the girl’s homes is a line of old oak trees which dwarf the maples further on down. No one seems to be around. A second look around then at each other. We silently agree that this is the best spot. We are as close as we dare get. You have already positioned yourself at the side door and removed the blanket as well as moved the luggage so it won’t interfere or accidentally get pushed out with the bodies.

I slow down and skirt along the curbing as you slide the door open and quickly push the girls out into the gutter. Driving normally even as nervous and excited as I am I pull back into the street and leisurely proceed to the next intersection. Great, a stop street! I had forgotten. Oh well. No matter. I stop, then proceed to make a right going to the end of the block then another right.

A few blocks and we are again at Dainly Drive. Another right on Dainly. Merge with some light traffic. And it’s off we go. I glance over as we pass where Procter intersects and see a family turn the corner heading in the girl’s direction. I wonder to my self if they’ll be the lucky ones to find the bodies. God I hope so. Nothing like fucking the minds of a couple more kids and their goodie goodie parents in the process.

After a half mile or so you climb back into the front seat on the passenger’s side and look at me with a big shit eaten grin, raise your eyebrows and calmly say … “Well my dear, I think we did it again.”

I am trembling so violently. But a good tremble. A climax of relief. The rush is fantastic! Ten maybe fifteen minutes later I have regained my composure. We are quiet for awhile. You drift off to sleep. You have work tomorrow and have had quite an eventful weekend. Of course so have I, but I can sleep in a bit in the morning. After our morning fuck of course. As I drive toward our destination my thoughts wander. I don’t wish to listen to the radio now. No music. The news of our efforts can wait also. Just quiet driving. I watch the early sun set as it reflects on the fall colored trees. Listen to the hum of the tires on the road. I feel so at peace. So purged and content. And so much in love.

About a mile from our house there is a really nice little family owned Italian restaurant. As I pull into the parking lot and stop you drowsily awaken.

“Come on darling. I don’t feel up to cooking tonight. It’ll be my treat.”

You grunt in agreement and in we go. It was a very romantic dinner. Wine, candle light, the whole nine yards as you guys say. It was really nice. After you had fully awakened you were your normal gentlemanly self. No one would ever in a million years suspect what you had been doing over the weekend. What we had been doing. After a cup of coffee to finish the meal appropriately it’s just a couple of minutes drive home now. And is it good to be home! What an exciting day. Now we are both ready for the news. Did our adventure make our local news? If so then it had to make the national news. Oh shit … it’s only 8.15 pm. Too late for early news and too early for late news.

We unload the van paying careful attention to the camera with our treasure of memories and of course the girl’s hearts. Got to get them in the fridge before they spoil or they will smell really bad when I cook them. Tomorrow I’ll cube them and fry them up so after dinner we can take them with us when we visit the neighbors for their two dogs. They’ll look like beef cubes. I’ll tell them that they’re left over from something. They never ask anyway. The dogs will be glad to get the treat. We’ll cream our jeans while we’re there watching the dogs consume the children’s hearts.

Then rush home and make mad passionate love. I’ll load the pics from the camera to the computer then burn them to CD-Rom tomorrow as well. Yes I know to run the hard drive wash / overwrite program after the transfer darling.

By the time we get everything away it’s almost 10.00 pm.

“Early news or early to bed?” I ask.

After you thought for a minute of getting up early to get to the station to catch the high speed train into the city you take me into your arms and say … “Early to bed of course. After all it’s time for your needs my sweet fucker.”

I have grown a bit tense on the short ride home from the restaurant and while we were unpacking. I have been so waiting for this moment. To be with you alone my darling husband. I tremble as a virgin in the arms of her first love. You begin kissing me gently on my face. My lips. My cheeks. My eyes. So tender and loving.

As you do so you begin to undress me as if I were your new bride. Running your hand through my hair you whisper sweet words of love that feel like a caress to my ear. Slowly you remove my cashmere sweater, my breasts spring and bounce free. Again those gentle kisses to one breast while you gently massage the other with your large manly hand.

So gentle. So very gentle. Now you switch to kissing the other breast while your hand messages the first kissed. The feel of the hands of a brutal killer so exciting. A child murderer. I can hardly bare the thrill of your touch it is so intoxicating. My heart is pounding. I feel weak in the knees. My breath is labored and my mouth is dry. But that will soon be relieved.

You pull me tightly to you now and kiss me hard with open mouth. You feed me a large amount of your saliva to wet my dry mouth and quench my lustful thirst. It will be a simple act of intercourse just between a man and a woman. A husband and his wife. But with a meaning to this woman that can not be matched. We have brutally tortured and killed together for our passions. Young defenseless children. We committed unspeakable acts. Filthy despicable acts. Yet in my heart of heart these acts burn bright. A symbol of our everlasting love in the depraved darkness in which our spirits dwell.

You unbutton my jeans now and slowly push them to the floor. Kneeling there for just a moment you hold them in place as I step from them. Before throwing them to the side you peel the saturated panty shield from the crotch. Rising, you bring it to my nose, slowly I smell the heady musk odor of my own sex. It is intoxicating.

My mouth waters for the feel and taste of a strange hot wet vagina. Oh how you tease me so. You slip it into my mouth and as I peer deep into your loving eyes I begin to chew. Squeezing it between my teeth I drew the thick viscous moisture from it. I swallow twice before it is depleted of its strongest taste. Your lips again press and open against mine.

Naked now … as you pull me tight to you I feel the roughness of your clothes. I think of only two things. How filthy you treat me. And how I need to feel your hot naked flesh against mine. As we continue to kiss I reach down to unbuckle your belt. You break off the kiss and stop my action. Without a word you spin me around and pick me up in your arms and carry me towards the stairs. I am reminded of how you carried the bagged dead girl’s bodies to the van in such a fashion not that many hours ago.

Up the stairs to our bedroom you carry me. You pause at the top of the stairs to let me turn out the hall light. I remove the panty shield now void of any further taste from my sucking mouth and throw it to the floor. With the hall light out the house is in total darkness accept for the light of a late September harvest moon.

The Fall season starts early in our area of the country. The air is clear and a bit crisp. The moon shines bright through the windows of our bedroom where you lie me on or marriage bed. How I love the sound of those words. Our marriage bed. How many times have we defiled it with the wetness of other lovers, how many times have we made a mockery of it’s sanctity by copulating on it as we will tonight after a kill. Our marriage bed reeks of filthy perversions and debauchery as none other. Sometimes I orgasm just thinking of such while just laying on it. God how I love it. Although I don’t think God will have anything to do with us.

As I lay there you begin a slow strip. Just as a women strips for the pleasure of a man. You strip for mine. One article at a time until you stand before me naked in all your glorious splendor. You cock stands out from your body hard and throbbing. Even if I see it do so ten billion times it will never fail to make me gasp at its magnificence. The moon light plays shadows across your body. You move sleek and fluid towards me like some creature of the night.

As you lay down next to me our bodies melt into the age old rhythms of love making. Mouths seek out secret places tasting pre-orgasm fluids and nuzzling creases and crevices normally hidden from view. Hands caress sometimes gently, sometimes firmly. Fingers probe hot moist openings then take the taste and scent to passion swollen lips and saliva dripping tongues. To inquisitive sniffing noses desiring to breath in the essence of their lover. Two bodies struggling to be as one working toward a union that only sexual intercourse can realize.

I love when you mount me in the missionary position and use me. Completely take me. Command my body with yours. Ejaculate deep into my belly as you would spit a glob of thick phlegm into a dirty toilet. Use me as nothing more then a receptacle for your discharged fluid. Yes … use me as your toilet. Have you not done so in other more vile ways? Have I not responded with excited enthusiasm to all your perverted desires? But that is not for tonight my darling. Tonight I must be in command. I must control and take my pleasure as I need and at my pace. It is a special night. An after the kill night.

Already knowing this you position yourself sitting on the bed with your back against the headboard. You place a pillow behind you for your comfort. I climb over you now and facing you reach under to guide your baby killing tool into my hot dripping whore hole. As much as I like taking you deep up my ass in this position on these nights you must mate with me in the conventional way. Up my whore hole. As I settle down on you I feel your entrance. I feel so full. Once again you are so hard and thick. So long and probing. Uhhhhhh!

I wrap my arms around your neck and kiss you deep. I feel your large strong hands glide over my back massaging my shoulders. Slowly you work your way down to my ass. Gripping my ass now you let me ride. For twenty minutes or more I ride swooning with the most delicious carnal delight anyone can imagine. Pumping my ass up and down. Grunting and groaning as I grind hard to you in tight then wide circular motions.

My lips are sealed to your neck first sucking a hicky on you like a school girl. Then biting you hard. Real hard. Drawling blood. Lots of blood. Then sucking again like a hungry vampire all the while fucking you. Then while feeding on your warm sticky salty red life fluid my mind kicks in. A delicious review of the weekend’s activities.

A kaleidoscope of remembering the sights and sounds. The tastes and smells. I am so fucking depraved, a fucking murder of innocents. A pig of society. An abomination of humanity. A women who’s soul is so dark, so black, that if found out would be burned alive at the stake. And you darling. And you my husband. You love me for what I am as I love you for what your are. Yes darling. We are killers in love. Killers of helpless children. Destroyers of families. And we will continue as such together as long as there is breath within us. And we will love each other even longer. And I must cum now. Hold me darling. Please hold me tight. With my head buried on your shoulder and while sucking your blood it begins …

How can any female describe an orgasm? Especially one so intense she passes out? I felt as though I was building to a physical explosion. A whooshing sound or like the sound of the ocean as heard in a sea shell rushes in. Flashing lights behind my eyes. Multi colored. Sparks raining down from the sky. A wrenching in my lower belly knotting tighter and tighter. My heart stops or so it feels. Time is suspended it seems forever. I can’t catch my breath. I can’t breath. I can’t fucking breath!

It is so intense I repeatedly convulse as if having seizures. Sometimes I piss myself all over my husband. Sometimes I even shit myself. Heaping it hot and steaming over his balls and between his legs. Tonight I just violently and explosively fart. The smell filling the room. My husband seems to delight in whatever way I lose control of my bodily functions.

It is for my pleasure he exists at this instance. God, I can’t stop! I don’t want to stop! Ever! It’s multiple! It fucking gloriously multiple. Bam! Bam! Bam! Another! And Another! And still more! On and on and on. I can’t fucking stop. Please fuck me baby. Never stop fucking me. And don’t ever stop me from killing. Slashing and gutting. Burning and beating, and killing, and killing, and killing some more! Child after child! Little girls! So many little girls. And some little boys too! After making them suck your cock! After you sodomize them! Jesus Christ … I’m turning inside fucking out!!!

It’s now that I hear your sweet voice as if off in the far distance.

“Karen? Karen darling? Have you ever considered … Have you ever considered tasting them.? You know… eating their flesh? Like maybe we can have the girl’s hearts as a side dish tomorrow evening with dinner?”

Am I hearing you right?! I think to myself. Am I fucking hearing you right?! Just when I think I have reached the pinnacle of my depravity. The peak of a fantastic hedonistic orgasm, you my love of loves offer me such a beautiful thought. My orgasm with those words seem to triple in intensity. Surely it will kill me this time.

I can only respond to you as I left my face from your neck with blood stained lips and with a low lust filled horse whisper, “Oh yes! Oh God yes!” My lips seal to yours and I explode!

The darkness rushes in almost immediately. So deep and pure. So warm and restful. It envelopes me. It caresses me. It is a tender veil of secure escape. Of total satisfaction. A darkness that I will surely awaken from. Not so Carolyn and Suzy. Not so our little playmates. Their darkness is also pure and deep but cold and foreboding. From their darkness they will never awaken. They will rot in their eternal darkness and the smell of such will forever strip them of their dignity. And it is I with you my husband who have brought them to such an end. Ah yes … life is good. And the orgasm … so good. So fucking good! So fucking beautiful.

As I drift off, my last thoughts of the day are … I can’t wait to hear the news in the morning. Oh yes … I am sure that will help to make it a cum … err … fun filled day (giggle). And the children’s hearts? Well they will still be cubed … but not fried. They will be sautéed in a butter and garlic sauce mix then simmered over a slow fire and served with red wine and fresh Italian bread. Yes … and a nice Caesar salad of course. Damn! My clitoris is beginning to tingle again! Goodnight my beautiful killer husband. And thank you darling.

THE END