Message-ID: <49185asstr$1095246601@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Mail-Format-Warning: No previous line for continuation: Wed Aug 14 16:30:23 2002Return-Path: <chrutli@yahoo.com> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-Original-Message-ID: <20040914214223.13472.qmail@web53704.mail.yahoo.com> From: stephen ambrose <chrutli@yahoo.com> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Tue, 14 Sep 2004 14:42:23 -0700 (PDT) Subject: {ASSM} school film 2, the first sequel (snf MF) Lines: 1426 Date: Wed, 15 Sep 2004 07:10:01 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2004/49185> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: hoisingr, IceAltar __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! Mail - 50x more storage than other providers! http://promotions.yahoo.com/new_mail <1st attachment, "school_film2.txt" begin> There is a popular claim that six million people- nearly all women- were killed in the middle ages. The agency was the Pope and the Catholic church; the means was defined in the papal proclamation called the Maleus Maleficarum, the hammer of witches. This horror of gynocide was supported- or at least ignored- by the whole of European civilization; the witch hunts of the inquisition were indeed monstrous. Of course, if there really were six million women slaughtered by society, that would have been roughly one out of six souls killed, or every third woman alive. Best estimates place the population of Europe at forty to fifty million people. That number- six million- is manifestly wrong. More reliable estimates place the number of women killed at between two- and four-hundred thousand. That's a far cry from millions, but it is still an enormous number of women murdered, with their horrific deaths countenanced by the highest moral authority of Europe. Countenanced? The church engineered the gynocide. The numbers aren't so important as the simple fact that at least once, society culled its own numbers for purely social and moral (?!!) reasons. Suppose, rather than goodness and right, you posit simple pragmatic necessity to justify your universal gynocide. In the Middle Ages, the impact of humanity on the global environment was minimal; the ecosystem healed what people corrupted. In modern times, we are already deeply involved in destroying the very mechanism by which nature heals itself. Industrialization is the superficial culprit; behind that there are simply too many humans for our finite ecosystem to sustain. A past article in Scientific American suggested that 600 million people could be support in our ecosystem, assuming they wanted (as we all do) an American, upper-middle-class lifestyle. We are, if you haven't noticed, way past that now. Are you one the excess population? -Chrutli School Film: the First Sequel Chrutli Mrs. Sanchez, Rita Sanchez, the assistant prinicipal, expelled me. "I'm sorry, James. You're an excellent student. But you helped Ali kill him. Things are all topsy-turvey now, and I- well, I really don't think I'm going to be around to help you much. It's better if you're out of the way." She came around her desk. She was short and voluptuous, with breasts too big for her body. "James, what you did for Ali-" she stopped. "Can I come to you? I expect to get a notice soon." "Mrs. Sanchez, it's not my place. I mean, what about your husband?" After Ali; after my mom and sister, I did think I wanted any more of that. She came just a bit closer. She had dark brown eyes, a little sad, and her lips trembled. "I have piercings, my nipples and my sex. Two and a half carats of diamonds, and you can have them." "But your husband-" "He pierced me. He does other things to my body. He would not be kind. Please. Can I come to you?" I sighed. "Yeah. Of course. I'll do my best." She kissed my palm, her lips warm and lingering, and then shook my hand. "Good. Good. I wish you the best, James." I didn't even look up any friends to say goodbye. There didn't seem to be a lot of point, and I sort of wanted to be alone anyway. Ali was gone. Mom and Laura were gone. I felt empty and sad inside. I was on my own, but there wasn't anything I needed to do. When Dad got killed, everything- the house, the pension, the insurance money (yeah, Dad had insurance. He was a senior engineer where he worked. I said we were pretty well off) all went to me, since women- which is to say Mom- couldn't own property. Women *were* property, like in the old Napoleonic Code. It was a pleasant sunny morning when I left school. I wandered around downtown for a while, went to the library, went to the Rexall and got a coke, and finally went to the bank to see where I stood. I didn't really think they'd let me back in school, so I had to find a job or something. The house was paid off. There was a hundred six thousand in a pension annuity from Dad's death, and and fifty-eight and some in a checking account. It looked like I could live for a real long time on that if I was careful, but I still wanted a job. Downtown was really quiet with everyone in school, and I'd taken care of Mom and Laura yesterday. Mom told me I should forget them and get on with stuff, but I knew I was going to miss them. Finally I went home. I turned on the radio, and spent a couple hours grinding Mom's thighs and rump into hamburger. Or sausage, I guess. Their meat tasted more like pork than beef, at least to me. I wrapped it in pound packages and froze it. With Ali, Laura and Mom in the freezer, there wasn't a whole lot of room left, so the grinding helped there. I threw the bones over the fence to Mr. Wood's dog, who snarfed them right up and carried them under a shady bush to gnaw. From the kitchen window, I could still see the ropes I'd hung Mom and Laura's carcasses from. I felt a little sad, but mostly I felt empty, empty and heavy. Mom and Laura and I had had three days together before they got their notices. Mom was the most amazing cocksucker, but Laura was fresher and more eager. It was only yesterday morning I'd slaughtered them. *** My sister Laura woke me that morning, smiling and stroking my cock. She was cute and fresh and her eyes sparkled. When she threw one slim thigh over my hips and straddled my hips, easing herself down on me, I reached for her hard little breasts and relished her tight wet cunt. Mom had been even better last night; she liked to use her mouth, her body was more voluptuous than Laura's, and she knew how to use it. I didn't even think about Mom not being on the bed with us that morning, but after Laura had come about three times, Mom was in the doorway, naked, a fist-sized rock in her hand. I sort of knew what she was going to do, so I didn't stare at her, but I did start to ache for Laura; she must have seen the pain in my eyes, because she straightened up and settled on my hips, gripping my entire cock inside her, and looked over her shoulder. Mom was right behind her by then, raising the rock. Mom looked at Laura. Laura looked at Mom. The Laura swallowed; I could see the motion in her throat. She turned back to me and started rising and falling on my cock. She looked down at me tenderly, licked her upper lip and shuddered as she came, closing her eyes gently. Her head made a soft hollow sound, glock, when Mom brought the rock against her skull. Laura looked surprised, and sagged down against me. Mom dropped the rock and moaned, falling to her knees. I lifted Laura's bare shoulders. Her eyes were barely slits, looking at nothing. She was dead. Mom drew a deep, strangled breath. "Let's get her outside and finish her before she comes around. I don't want her to wake up again. I don't want her to see-" she groaned and curled up on the floor with a sob. I didn't tell Mom Laura was already dead; Mom had done way more than coldcock her. I took her limp body up and carried her outside, hung her by the wrists from the patio awning, and went to work dressing her body. I was aching worse than ever. I was getting experience at field dressing, though. Laura's nipples were still stiff points and her skin still flushed pink when I finished gutting her slim tanned body. I wished Mom had let me come too, but I could see why she'd done it then. I kissed her dead nipples, then lifted her head and kissed her mouth. Mom was in the kitchen when I went inside. She looked at me, all covered with Laura's blood, then looked at my cock, still hard, then looked in my eyes. "Now me, right?" she said softly. I nodded. She went out to the patio and I followed. She stood stock still and put her hands behind her back for me to tie. I tied them there. Then she laid forward across the picnic table, her thighs parted, her sex glistening and swollen and looked at me over her shoulder. "Please, James? One last time?" I slid into her easily, pushing deep, aching. I don't know what she expected. I don't know how she expected me to kill her, but she made it easy and made it my choice and for a minute, I was furious with her. I wanted her to want to live. I wanted her to fight, to refuse, to do something other than lay herself before me the way she had. In a moment of fury, I picked up a butcher knife and slashed her bound wrists, both of them, and began slam-fucking her in hard deep lunges. Blood squirted out over her back and buttocks from her wrists and it got difficult to see because my eyes were tearing something awful, but I did manage to tug her head back and slash her throat as I fucked her, then I sobbed relentlessly as I grabbed her hips and fucked her hard, fucked her dying body, fucked her until I came in her flopping, shuddering red-gouting body. I sobbed, I came, and Mom gurgled a couple more times and lay still. The rage and the anger were gone. I pulled out of her body and flipped her over, gutting her as she lay half on the card table. I hung her by the neck since her hands were tied behind her, and calmly got out the garden hose to clean their carcasses and chill the meat quicker. I shouldn't have gotten mad, I guess, but now I was alone, and though I was calm again, I felt emptier than I ever had. I guess it wasn't so bad, really. I could have been a lot meaner to Mom. *** The wheel barrow was full of guts, and they were attracting a lot of flies. I dug a hole behind the garage and buried them, deep enough that dogs and stuff wouldn't get them. That, I thought, was that. I went in and took a shower and ate a sandwich, then sat on the back porch looking through the classifieds. I expected I was going to get some kind of job, if only to keep busy. I thought about selling the house, too, because it was worth an awful lot, but empty as it was, it was at least familiar. Debbie Shrader, a long, brown-haired girl in Laura's class was the first. She didn't say anything when she came to the door; she handed me her notice. I let her come in and we went to the kitchen. She was trying to be brave, and doing it badly. I gave her some orange juice and sat down with her at the kitchen table. "You liked her a lot, didn't you? Mrs. Landry?" "A lot," I said. She blinked her blue eyes and shivered. "You want me to take care of you the same way?" I asked. She nodded, not looking at me. "And call my Mom after. I don't want her to worry." "Come here, Deborah," I said softly. She got up and came up to me; I scooted my chair back and pulled her onto my lap. She whimpered when I pulled her hair back from her face, stroked her cheeks. When I kissed her, she stiffened. "Sh," I murmured, "Relax. There's no reason to hurry anything." She nodded, and when I kissed her again, she kissed back awkwardly. I'll bet she never kissed a guy before. I nibbled at her lips, then nuzzled her throat and kissed a soft line to her ear. She shivered hard and sighed. I put my hand on her flat, tense belly. "Can I touch you?" I asked. Deb giggled. "Yeah," she sighed. "Oh, yeah." I slipped my fingers inside her waistband and stroked her belly, right down to her mound, which was smooth and clean. Then I caressed up into her t-shirt, stroking small hard breasts that came to points eagerly. When I kissed her again, her little tongue was lively. I pressed the length of her close and for the first time, her arms went around me. "Are you going to stab me?" she whispered. "That's up to you," I said, stroking her shoulders and back. She felt wonderful. "There's only one thing I want to know right now." "I told my parents. They know I'm here. It's okay." "That's not what I meant." "What?" "Will you make love to me? You're so beautiful." Deborah laughed and squirmed. "That's why I came here. I want you to make love to me." "I"ll do that if you like, Deborah. I'm asking if you will make love to me." She frowned. "What do you mean?" "Undress me. Touch me. Do whatever you like, then make love to me." She laughed again, nervous and excited. "Really?" "Please? Right here, right now." She undressed me impatiently, smiling and eager, glancing up at me often, blushing at my encouragement. She didn't touch my cock until she had all my clothes off, then it was tentative. "It's kinda big, isn't it?" "It's not that big." "Bigger than Billy's Jackson's, that's for sure." She kissed my cock a couple times, tentatively, then scrambled up, straddling my thighs. "Okay," she said, smiling too brightly. "Okay." She rose up and pointed my cock between her thighs, hesitated, then drove herself down. She gave a guttural grunt and her body went hard, half-jerking back off my cock. I took her hips in hand and gently urged myself deeper. Debbie gasped and shuddered and tensed. Finally she drove herelf onto my cock, taut, her breath coming in hard gasps. She was a virgin. Debbie was a virgin. I'd popped her cherry. With a distressed sigh, Debbi relaxed against me. She'd passed out. I wrapped an arm around the small of her back and lifted her shoulder, then eased back into the chair, her long legs and slender arms still limp and dangling. She really was pretty, sprawling back in my arms. Even lolling back like she was, her little white breasts stood high. She shuddered and jerked, and I drew her against me. She groaned, coming around, and I held her quietly for a minute. "I didn't know you were a virgin." "I'm not anymore," she said tightly. "Want me out of you?" "No. Yeah. God." She practically jumped off and then curled against my chest, holding her lower belly. "I thought it would be more fun than that," she whispered, her face twisted with pain. "It's supposed to be." "Bathroom," Debbie said. "I have to go-" she staggered away, naked, one hand cupped over her vulva. My hips and cock were bloody. She could have used the bathroom off the kitchen, but maybe she didn't know it was there. She went upstairs and I heard her slam the door. Just as well; I could wash her virgin blood off me down here. I took my time cleaning up, and waited patiently after that, but after probably fifteen minutes, I started to wonder if Deb was in trouble or scared or if she'd run away. I went up to the bathroom upstairs and knocked. "Debbie?" No answer. I went in. Debbie was sitting slouched forward in the bathtub, her legs in front of her, like some broken doll. She'd slit her wrists, and sat in a pool of bright blood. It made me feel bad, because, well, I don't know. Because she hadn't said a word. I felt sort of like I'd let her down. It took an hour to gut and dress her, then I called her home. *** Mrs. Shrader answered the phone when I called. "James? Is Debbie there?" I paused. "She was. She's gone now." Mrs. Shrader was quiet for so long I wasn't sure she was still there. "She made love to me, Mrs. Shrader. After that, it was very quick. Do you want me to bring her back?" "No. No, would you take care of that?" "Sure. No problem." "Do we owe you anything? Roger couldn't bring himself to- and the processing plant is so impersonal. I'm grateful." "She was a brave girl." "Yes. She was. James, I saw in the paper this morning. Everyone knew you and Ali- well, I'm sorry." Something clenched up inside and I couldn't talk for a minute. "That was her choice, I guess. I couldn't make it not happen. Not after she shot the principal." "We don't have any choice, us women," Mrs. S said bitterly. "Except one. Will you do me? I got my notice too, I just didn't tell Debbie. I'll pay you. Just don't cut my throat like at the plant." I glanced out at the patio where Debbie's slender body was hanging. Was there room in the freezer? "Can I make love to you?" She seemed surprised, maybe, then, "Yeah. Oh, yeah. I'd like that." She had Debbie's eagerness. She gave a little laugh. "You know how to make a woman feel good, don't you?" Her voice went soft. "Don't tell Roger, okay?" "Okay." "I'll be over in a bit. Is that okay? In a bit. I have to take care of a couple things. Shit." She hung up. I was going to start butchering Deb's body so she wouldn't be hanging there when her mom came. Then the cops showed up. They were detectives. The young one had a weird bright look in his eye and he smiled too much, but the older guy just seemed like a regular guy, though maybe a little sad. They asked me about Ali and all that. Mostly what they wanted, though, was to make sure she was properly dead. I took them out to the garage and showed them her head in the freezer. "You can take it with you if you want. I know I'm supposed to turn it in to the popstab people, but I've been kind of busy." "We don't need it. You're not in school?" the older guy asked softly. "I was expelled. I sort of expected it." The younger cop smiled brightly. "Well, if you had gone to school, you'd know that all the women who saw your show are getting notices. I shot two this morning." He went out to the patio, and walked around Debbie's body, admiring or something. He squeezed her boobs and smiled with embarrassment when he saw me watching. The older cop was more sympathetic. "Don't let it make you mean, son," he said. "Like killing women isn't mean as hell? Giving every girl in school a notice isn't mean?" "You know what I'm talking about. I have to kill six-eight women every day. Most of them don't deserve it. I try to surprise them, so they don't get scared; if I can't do that, at least I try to make it quick. Come up behind them, pop in the head, no pain, no fear. Walsh, he was mean. Got what he deserved. Don't be mean like him." "I guess so," I said. "Thanks, sir." Mrs. Shrader was coming down the walk when the cops left. The younger one eyed her with that dishonest smile of his, but she ignored him. "Come on in, Mrs. Shrader. I've been waiting for you." I stared at the young cop when I said that, and he seemed to lose interest in her. She stepped into the foyer and I closed the door. I expect Mrs. Shrader had taken tranquilizers, but maybe it was just the way she was. She was a pretty as Debbie, though her breasts were a lot bigger. She was smiling when I closed the front door. "I feel like I'm being wicked. You're so handsome. I'm cheating on poor sweet Roger. I'm being so bad." "You're awfully pretty," I said. "Prettier than I expected." For a moment her eyes went dark and wild, and I knew she was thinking about dying. I touched her cheek, traced her lips gently, ran my fingers from the corner of her jaw down to the hollow of her throat. She swallowed and shivered. It was strange; I was going to kill her; she was afraid. I didn't want her to be afraid, but her fear aroused me as more than her beauty. She was panting when I kissed her, and her tongue and lips were more sensual, more experienced than her daughter. "Take a bath with me," I murmured. She gave a throaty laugh, then gasped and shivered when I cupped her breasts and lifted them. In the bathroom she was as eager and nervous as a bride. She wasn't passive, either. She had me naked before I had her to her underwear, and we were both in the bathtub before it was half filled. She was middle thirties, barely plump, but firm and lush. She grabbed my cock and sat down on it before I even got her bra off. She was wet and hot, but the water washed some of her lubrication off as she fucked me, and it made the friction- and the sensation- more acute. After the first heady rush of her cunt swallowing my cock, I got control of my pleasure; she didn't. She came twice before I actually got her bra unfastened. Her breasts were full and rounded and slightly pendulous, and her nipples large, pale and coarse. It pleased her I was so taken with them. We went at it like teenagers. She came more times than I can count, grunting, writhing, shivering orgasms. I came twice, surprising myself. After the first time, I found myself wondering what it would be like to cut those rounded breasts from her body; and what it might feel like to carve a hole in one and fuck her there. I'd have to tie her, of course, and gag her so she didn't scream- my cock hardened under her lips at the shameful thoughts. She was already dead, after a fashion, and I could do what I like. I sort of hated the idea, but it filled me with hunger. After the second orgasm, I slowed down. I could stay hard, but I couldn't quite come. She took full advantage, rocking, riding and driving herself down on me. I laid back, enjoying the sensation, and idly fondled her breasts. Her nipples were thimbles amidst wide, flat, bumpy auroelas. I imagined slicing her breast open, nipple to ribs, to see what was inside. It was a brutal thought, but my cock responded. She must have guessed what I was thinking, or near enough. Her eyes went dark and panicked again, and then she had another orgasm, shivering and mewing; because of her imminent death or despite it, I couldn't tell. Finished, she rose off my cock and washed it a bit in the water rising around us. She looked at me with frightened eyes. I reached around and turned off the running water. "We should talk a bit," I said, putting my arms around her and drawing those big breasts close to flatten against my chest. "I don't want to die," she whispered. "I don't want to talk about how you're going to- I want to be surprised by death. I don't want to plan it like a picnic or- or an affair." "Hush," I said, "Don't worry about it. Don't scare yourself. It'll be quick and easy." "Promise?" she asked. "I promise," I said. I took her face between my hands and kissed her deeply. She paused, then responded, fishing my cock out of the water and stroking lightly. "Again?" she asked, smiling sadly. "Again, then I'll be ready." "Again." She threw her thigh over me, straddled, mounted. I took her face between my hands again and kissed her. "You're so pretty," I said. She smiled gratefully, squirmed on my cock, and I slammed her head against the ceramic tiles. Her head made a soft crack and she went limp so suddenly that I checked her throat to make sure I hadn't killed her outright, the way Laura had died. Her eyes were half-closed, but she had a pulse. I got Dad's straight razor, the same one Deborah had used, and slit her wrists, holding them underwater so the blood didn't shoot all over. The water blossomed red. Then her ankles, slashing deep. She slid down in the tub so her breasts and her face floated, and I watched her breath. After a couple minutes, the islands of her breasts tightened and quivered in the water and she gave a harsh grunt. I hooked a finger in her cunt and lifted her hips above the water, and drew the razor firmly up her belly, exposing her insides without cutting them. I was getting a lot better at this field dressing stuff. It was awkward getting her limp carcass out of the tub. Her belly cavity had filled with water, and her foot got tangled in her guts for a moment. I got her free, though, and took her downstairs and hung her next to Debbie. She really was an older, sexier version of Debbie, and I admired her as I hosed her carcass down. Butchering the two of them was going to take a while. I decided to quarter them and freeze the quarters. *** It was late afternoon. I had just finished wrapping and freezing the last of Debbie's mom when the doorbell rang. It was the Leung twins, Syl and Meg, and their mom. Syl and Meg were tall, pretty girls with black hair down the middle of their backs. Their mother, Mariko, was smaller, though not petite; she was pretty in a frumpy, severe way. She wore eyeglasses, baggy trousers, a plain blouse, and a shapeless dirty cardigan. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight shaggy bun, and she looked owlish. She had a big suitcase that nearly reached her hips beside her. The girls looked like regular American teenagers, cute and a little self-involved. The twins weren't very smart, though everyone liked them. They were like long-legged elegant animals, like gazelles or baby giraffes. They seemed even more vacant today than they usually did, smiling a bit and swaying. "We got our notices," Syl said tentatively. "All three of us," Meg added. "We wish to ask a small favor." Mariko lowered her eyes demurely. She had a wide face, a broad nose and brown almond-shaped eyes, eyes made huge by her glasses. She didn't look up. But I was tired. "Mrs. Leung, this is something you should discuss with your husband. It been a long day, and-" "I talk it over with him a few minutes ago. He can't come back for a couple days. He said it was okay if you-" she stopped. "I understand," I said. "It's just that it's late, I'm awfully tired, and I haven't had dinner yet." "If we go home, the meat trucks will be there first thing. May we stay here tonight? Then tomorrow? We can fix you dinner. The girls, they want to share you. If you are willing." "What about you, Mariko? Are you willing to share?" She looked like a potato, but why leave her out? The girls were Americanized clothes horses, nice to look at but kind of shallow. She licked her lips. "I have always been faithful to my husband." "Mom!" Syl protested. "Come on. We're not gonna tell. We'll be dead. And James-" she smiled at me- "He's a gentleman." "I have my honor," Mariko said softly. "Will you please consider to do this thing for us?" I looked at the three of them. Mrs. Leung looked grave and severe, but the twins looked, well, I don't know. They would be nice to screw anyway. I was getting tired of killing girls. Syl gave me a dreamy smile. "Tranquilizers," she said. "Mom gave up some of Dad's tranquilizers. We really would like it if you did us." "Okay. Sure," I said. "Come in. Make yourselves at home. Listen, I need a shower. I'm sorry, but I have to get cleaned up and rest. Can you find everything?" Mariko nodded. "You take shower. We find everything. We fix dinner, make your comfortable." It was a relief, in a way. Three women in the big house; I wouldn't be there alone with the TV. I really was tired, but I hadn't gotten half-undressed in the bathroom before Syl came in and smiled, helping me with my jeans and undressing herself. "I'll wash you," she said, and started undressing. Syl was long legs, long torso, small breasts and little pointed nipples, little loaves of buttocks. She teased in the shower, but wouldn't let me enter her. "Later. When Meg is with us. Okay?" "Okay," I said. I was tired. I was that tired. Mariko made a rump roast, tender and exotically spice, with saffron rice and steamed broccoli. It was good and I ate a lot. The women ate with me, but nobody said much. Mariko seemed to try to disappear, and the twins, well, they were drugged and I guess kind of melancholy. I was just tired. Eating gave me a little more energy, but finished, I was still sleepy. They chased me out of the kitchen and I watched the news lazily for a few minutes. The photo in the news was of Ali's face, looking over my shoulder as we screwed and as she died. I was surprised they showed it, though you couldn't see any skin, really. What you could see was Ali's face; her eyes were gently shut and she had the loveliest, most serene smile. I was happy to see it, sort of; she was smiling. But she was gone, and all I had was the memory of her breasts and belly flattened against me, and her soft voice as she died, "James." The newsman said it was on the internet, but I didn't look. Maybe later, I thought. I felt sad and confused and a little lonely. Syl, slender brown body naked, came in and knelt at my feet. "Can I please you? Or are you too tired?" "I am tired," I admitted. "Then come to bed and I'll give you a massage." A moment later Meg came out, slim, naked, a little shy. "Mom said we have to screw you. You want some pussy?" Syl frowned at her sister. "She didn't say we had to. She said we could if we wanted. If he wanted." "He's going to kill us. He's going to kill our stupid butts." "He doesn't have to. He could make us go to the plant. I want him." She looked up at me. "Do you want me?" "Yeah," I said, smiling at both of them. "I guess so." "I want him first," Meg said petulantly. Syl was sweet and generous with her mouth and hands and cunt. Meg was sweet and selfish. There was an odd gravity to fucking them. They didn't giggle and carry on, but they didn't seem frightened or even terribly sad. Resigned, maybe. They were neither very good lovers, but I came twice just the same, once in each girl. Lean, brown, slim bodies with me amidst them, four brown breasts, two mouths; they were going to die, and the thought inspired me. Maybe inspired is the wrong word, but the thought of slaughtering them excited me past my weariness. I was a little rough when I fucked Meg because she was so full of herself, but she didn't seem to mind. Syl offered me everything, and I took her gently. She cooed and purred and I wished I could have fucked her more. I was tired just the same. I fell asleep with Syl's cunt around my half-hard cock and Meg's trim belly under my head. *** It was before dawn when I woke; I heard movement in the house. The twins were a sleepy naked tangle. I got up carefully so as not to wake them, and went into the kitchen. There was fresh coffee in the pot, and the door to the patio was open. I got a cup and went out. Mariko was sitting on the step in the dark, coffee in hand, her calves drawn up to her thighs. "Can't sleep?" "I die this morning. I didn't want to waste that time in sleep." She gave me a sad smile. "You were very good with the girls. You were gentle and passionate. I'm happy they were with you." "You didn't want to join in?" She laughed shortly, a light musical laughter. "I have been out here for a long time, trying to find the courage to kill myself. I can't do it. I don't think many women can." I didn't say anything, but I sat beside her. She leaned close without touching. "You have a handsome manhood. You are bigger than my husband. I have always been faithful. Always. Do you think it matters now?" "If it does to you, then it matters." It was dark, but she didn't look quite the potato I'd thought. "What are all you boys going to do when all the pretty girls are gone?" I shrugged. "I don't know. It'll stop before then." "Maybe. For every seven dead woman, there are five dead man. True statistic, did you know?" "No, I didn't." "True. Men kill for hate, for jealousy, or like your father, for honor. There is no need to make drawing for men to kill men. Only women." In the gloom, I was just beginning to get an impression of her. Her hair was down, falling to the middle of her back, brushed straight and glossy black. The eyeglasses were gone, and her eyes were lovely. Her legs were bare and shapely. Like Mom, she had disguised her looks. She was beautiful. "You were thinking about killing yourself?" I asked softly. She smiled. "In my bag, I have knives, guns, electric shock thing. I take many deadly things from my husband's collection. But I don't have courage." "You're pretty. When I first saw you, I thought you were shaped like a potato." She laughed, a sweet, delicate laugh. "Kevlar vest. It makes me look plain and also twice somebody try to shoot me. It hurts very much. I have bruises for weeks." I sighed and sipped my coffee. "I wish things were different." She took my hands in hers, kissed them, raised them to her cheeks. "These hands, they kill my daughters. These hands take my life. Why does my heart go fast when you sit here? I want you so much I can almost taste the flavor of your manhood. You like this, do you not? You make love to girl, you kill her. You like this." I considered. "I like the sex." "You like the sex because you know, this little girl, this pretty girl, she die soon. Die by your hand. Sweet nice breasts, you kill them. Nice wet sex, you have and then kill. The killing, that is what makes you so hot. I know. It makes me hot too even if I never cheat on my husband." "Maybe you're right." "I know I am right," Mariko said firmly. Then she sighed, "I am married woman. I should not talk like this. I talk dirty like this, you get excited and force me to love you, you make me do with my mouth and you use my body." She looked at me oddly, and I smiled at her. I wasn't going to force her anything. She was way past pretty, though. "You force me," she said, then looked down. That was all we said for a while. It was an easy silence; something about her appealed to me, even though we'd barely spoken. I was acutely aware of her beside me even though we didn't touch. Then, deliberate or not, her thigh came over and pressed me. I looked over; she didn't look back, so I studied her. The sky was lightening and I could see her form in the easing darkness. She had lips so full the boht of them almost described a circle, a wide, strong jaw, and she was wearing only panties and a shirt, my shirt. I wanted her, a little. It wasn't exactly that I knew I was going to kill her; it was more that I knew I could do anything I wanted with her body, and it didn't matter. "I guess you're right," I said. Her skin was golden and creamy. She was beautiful. "I think it does turn me on." "I know I am right. I feel desire too. My body says make love to this man, make love very much, very quickly before you die. I don't know why. I just feel heat." Her black hair brushed her shoulders. She pulled it back with both hands. "I get call yesterday, Ann Shrader. She say she got notice; she say many many women get notice because of Ali, because of you. She say she come here, she ask you kill her. I think many women will come to you." She paused. "I have money in my purse. You take it." "You don't have to pay me." I felt weird about being paid. "You do job, you get paid." She smiled; she had a sparkling smile. "Besides, you think I will need money?" I shrugged. In the darkness, birds were starting to sing in the trees. Dawn was close. Mariko's voice was soft. "So Ann Shrader call you?" She was asking something else. "She was here." Mariko lowered her eyes, and her voice was even softer. "I know it is not my business. You share with her? You make love with her?" "Yeah. Yes." "Good." Mariko nodded. "Some boy at school make videotape, put it on internet. I see this videotape." "What videotape?" "You and Ali. It is not too good quality, but you can see. After you cut her so much and she bleeds, and then you make love to her. She put legs around you, and you make love so nice to her, and the whole time she smiles. She smiles happy and she smiles serene. Even when death take her and she struggle some she smiles. You don't know that, do you? Her head over your shoulder, you don't see her happiness. "Many women see this, I think. They all think, I want to die like that. I want to be happy and good man make love to me. Me, I want that too, but I must have my honor, because that is all I have left. And many women get notice, because Senator Walsh is angry. Ali kill his brother, so many women around here going to die too. Many, many women." "I wish it was different. I wish it was." "Do you truly?" Her eyes were wide and direct. "Do you?" "I killed my sister and my mom yesterday. My own mom. That's how she wanted it; I mean, instead of the meat plant. So I did, but I was angry. I hated her for letting me, for not fighting back or anything, for not wanting to live." "I don't understand too. I don't understand why we just accept this. I mean, everybody knows there are too many people. Too many people, some got to go. Then I get notice, and I don't want to die. Somebody else die, not me. But I accept. My life is not so happy anyways, so I accept. My daughters, they are a little scared, but they accept. They are different, little bit different. They have no promise to hold. They always know, even very young they know. You grow up, you get notice, you die dead. I was different. When I was young, my parents only worry was find me a good husband. It was how it was, it was a promise. You live as long as you live. Promise to me broken now. I have promise, but it is broken." "Promise?" "To live. That is all. When I was little girl, no popstab, no kill women all over. Promise." "I know what you mean. It sort of doesn't make sense." "We all accept, I don't know why. So many people, you got to fight and fight just to live one day and then another one. So hard to fight, to be afraid all the time. Easier to die." Mariko took her lower lip between her teeth, looking out into the darkness, and for a moment I watched her. There was a light in her eyes that seemed absent in so many others. She saw me looking and smiled, dropping her eyes. "Easier to die from you, too. Will you make love to my body after you kill me?" "No." I shook my head. "No. I don't like that." "No?" Her brown eyes were teasing. "I am pretty naked. You don't want make love to my body?" She shifted, and I caught a glimpse of a breast. It was high, full, golden, perfectly formed. Her nipple was dark, dark red; almost black. The aureola was a jutting, coarse cone, bumpy, and tilting upward was a thick stub of a nipple, deeply cleft. Maybe it was just that she was exotic, but I caught my breath. A thrill went through me; I didn't want to make love to her lifeless body, but before, yes. Mariko drew a shuddering breath herself, straightening her shoulders, and her breast disappeared. "While I die, then. Your manhood inside my belly. Inside me. Yes." She put her hand on my knee, then drew it away quickly, glancing at me. "You force me to take you." I wanted to put my arm around her, to give her that small comfort, to hold her lovely body for a time. Her reticence infected me. Like her, I didn't dare. "Your mother, your sister. And Ali Landry. All gone from you. You don't say much about you. Everything change for you too. How do you feel? Does your heart hurt?" I considered. How did I feel? "I'm numb. I don't feel anything. Ali is gone. Mom, my sister. I feel empty." "Yet you are the one. You kill them yourself." "What could I do? What else could I do? If I didn't, it would have been worse for them." "You make love to them first, your mother, your sister?" I hesitated. "Yes." Mariko sighed and nodded. "Good. I like to think they taste you inside them. I like that." She hesitated, then leaned against me a bit. "How are you going to kill us?" "Any way you like. You decide." "I can't. What I want shames me." She swallowed and shook her head. "You will kill my daughters first. I wish to see this, to know they do not suffer very much." She paused and sat straight. Her shirt- my shirt- wasn't buttoned, and I caught another glimpse of a dark nipple, erect, high on a firm brown breast, tilted sharply upward. "I can't offer you my body. My body cries out to please you, to take pleasure. I cannot do this. But if-" she stopped and swallowed. "If you force yourself on me then my honor is safe. You understand what I say?" "You're beautiful, Mariko. I mean that. It's not just your looks, either." "I cannot offer my body, my sex to you," she said more insistently. "If you want to make love to my body, my beautiful body, you must force me and take me. If you force then my honor is safe. You understand?" She wanted her honor; she wanted sex. "Yeah," I said. "Yeah, I do." "My husband use my mouth and my sex and sometimes in my behind. If you want to use me that way you force me and make me do this. You will do this? You like this?" I flushed, but she didn't see it in the darkness. "You're beautiful. I'd like to love you." She nodded, satisfied. "Then you will punish me for saying these things to you. Punish me to take my shame. You take my shame and you tell my husband nothing, you tell him I honor him." "I don't think you need to be punished, Mariko." "No. You be cruel. You give me pain and be cruel. You hurt me and I beg you, stop, it hurts too much, you don't listen. You be cruel. You be cruel." "I don't think I can. There's pain enough, isn't there? I can't be cruel." Mariko lowered her eyes, long lashes brushing her cheeks, then looked up at the dawn. "My husband has a girlfriend. He comes home, he says, I am slut, I am only good to suck his manhood, I am worthless. He says I give him daughters who are prostitutes and they are worthless. They are not worthless; they are only young and stupid. I tell my daughters, make love to boys because you are young and why not? My husband beats me sometimes because I do this. He has money; he buys protection for young girlfriend. He doesn't buy for wife, for daughters. So we get notice. He is glad because he doesn't love anymore." "I'm sorry." "It is not so bad, except now I got a notice. My daughters, they don't make love very good, do they? They ddon't know how to please a man." "Mariko," I shook my head. "I can't be cruel to you. I can't do that." "Please. You must. You kill me very slow. So slowly. I scream, I say stop, I beg, but you don't stop. You kill me slow and be cruel." I studied Mariko; she was frightened; she didn't want to be tortured, but she wanted her honor. She wanted to die slowly, and I didn't want to kill her at all, and not the way she wished. Maybe I saw the same spirit in her I saw in Ali. I don't know. I almost refused, I wanted to refuse. "Mariko, I want one thing from you." "What is that?" "I'll do what you want. I'll try to be cruel. Until I kill you, I want you to obey me, completely and without question." "Why this? Why? You tie me, you force me. I don't fight so much." "You want me to be cruel. I won't tie you; I'll bind you to your word. Will you obey me willingly? Will you do everything and anything I say?" Mariko's lips parted and she looked at me with dark pools of eyes. "You want me to be slave." "Yes." "You say, Mariko, kill your daughters. I will not kill my daughters. I will not do this. You say, Mariko, make love to me. I have husband. I will not do this. You say other things, okay, I obey. I obey like a slave." "I won't tell you to kill your daughters. I'll do that. But I want you to make love to me. I don't want to force myself on you. I want you to give it to me." "Then you do something to force me to do this. You don't ask me to give you; you take. You make me to be slave. Like chains. Or like a gesture even. Like you tie my hand but not very tight. You make me like that and I have my honor. I want-" her voice caught- "I want so much to fuck your body and feel you inside me. Don't make me to humiliation. Make me to be your slave, don't ask." She looked up at me with eyes that were at once afraid and defiant, lovely eyes, brown eyes. "You have no choice. I am give you no choice. That's all. You have no choice." She shivered and looked out into the shadows. "You are right. I have no choice. Then I will do this," she said. "On your honor?" "On my honor, I will be your slave." "Good." I put my arm around her shoulder and drew her gently against me. She was shivering, and the look she gave me seemed, for the first time, frightened. "I am scared. Now I am scared." "Don't be. It's going to be all right." "It will never be all right. It will never." Mariko straightened her shoulders. "We should take care of my daughters now. Before they wake. Is that okay?" *** I couldn't tell the girls apart in the early morning light; two long slim brown bodies, tangled in sleepy affection, their long black hair going every which way. Mariko stood stock still next to me, watching her pretty daughters sleep. One of them opened her eyes and Mariko stepped forward, pressing a small black object to her neck. She made a little choking sound and slid off the bed, jerking oddly. Mariko followed her down, pressing the black device to her temple. A couple tremors went through her slim body, but nothing really dramatic. Say it was Syl. I really didn't know. Mariko gestured and I picked her up and carried her out back to the picnic table, laying her gently on her back. It was almost routine now. The first cuts- I made them in her ankles- always gouted fast and hard. The other cuts- neck, hips, wrists and so on- bled increasingly less. I cupped Syl's breasts in both hands, watching her eyes. One hip rose, and her belly hardened as her heart struggled to a stop. Then, slowly, she sagged back to the table. Mariko, standing behind me, watched it all with black, inscrutable eyes. Syl had never come awake. It must have been Syl, because when we went back to the bedroom, the other one- Meg, I'm pretty sure- was crouched in the corner, terrified. I talked to her, but she kicked and clawed when I tried to get close. Mariko's eyes were blank, but her mouth expressed her pain. It wasn't how she wanted it. I finally lunged into the corner and got my hands around Meg's throat, squeezing tight. She kicked. She clawed. She fought with everything she had but I didn't let go and the struggle was silent because I had her throat closed. Mariko was frozen behind us. I squeezed and tried to keep Meg from clawing my eyes. When Meg began loosing her strength, when her flailing began to become weak and chaotic, Mariko finally groaned, stepped forward, and zapped her daughter in the chest with her little black stunner. The pain surged through my arms and chest. It hurt like hell and my own muscles threw me off Meg. I'd gotten some of the charge, and I lay dazed for a moment. "Hurry up hurry up," Mariko murmured, her voice soft with misery. "You kill her. Kill her fast. Hurry up." I stood and staggered. Muscles wouldn't work right, but the desperation in Mariko's voice drove me. My hands wouldn't work; they tingled and I couldn't quite close them. Meg, twitching on the floor and half-suffocated, was worse. I couldn't carry her. My hands twitched and wouldn't close. What was I supposed to do? Then Mariko zapped her daughter again and Meg threw her head back. I dropped to one knee, and that one knee was centered on her throat. I felt her throat crush under my weight and I grabbed a breast to keep my balance. Meg drew her legs up and humped her hips in the air, but she couldn't dislodge me; she was as weak and uncoordinated from the shock as I was. I stayed there, one knee in her throat, for several minutes, until Meg's twitching convulsive struggle grew uncoordinated, and then stopped altogether. It was another fifteen minutes before my muscles would work okay, before I could even think about carrying Meg's body out to the patio. The whole time, Mariko knelt over her dead daughter, stroking her black hair. Mariko's face was a mask. Mariko sat back against the wall as I gathered up Meg's body and took it outside. I hung them up by their wrists. It was surprising how much alike they looked, and how both of their faces seemed at peace, as if they'd only fallen asleep for a moment. I hacked at Meg's head to get it off her shoulders, and then Mariko came out, her golden body naked now, and showed me how to do it, cutting Syl's head off with a slice here, a tendon there, twist and cut. Mariko had Syl's head off in a moment, the stump neat and clean, where I'd struggled with Meg. Mariko was grave and quiet, but she seemed to lose some of her tautness when I bagged the girl's heads and put them in the freezer. She was small, but not petite, Mariko. Her sex was freshly shaven and wide, the cleft deep and sexy. Her nipples were erect, coarse and bumpy, almost black and cleft at the tips. I liked her skin; she was pale, but there was a golden cast to it, like bronze polished white. I watched her, still shaking a little from the jolt, and once again astonished at her beauty, at how it affected me. Mariko gave me a dark look, and picked up a knife impatiently. I let her go and watched. Mariko gutted and dressed the dead carcasses of her daughters, her hands quick and sure with a knife. In less than half the time it had taken me, she had both girls neatly gutted, bled and waiting to be butchered. There wasn't any room in the freezer, though. "I call processing plant. They pick up, pay you for meat, so much for pound." "They pay you?" I was a little surprised. "Sure. You get steak, roast at supermarket, you think it is free?" "Okay," I said. "Fine. Call them." "You kill me then? Be cruel so I don't die for a long time?" "I want to make love to you, Mariko. Call them. Call them and then I want to make love to you." She hesitated, then nodded. I heard her call from the kitchen; she was naked still, her daughters' blood smeared over her chest and arms. I was getting out of my own bloody clothes when she came back out. I took a wooden chair from the corner and set it in the middle of the patio, then gestured to her. She came over as I sat. "Sit on my cock. Just sit, okay? Sit and don't move and let me hold you for a while." Her face was still hard. She straddled my thighs and I lifted her hips, lifted her onto my cock. She came down slowly, her thighs trembling as she impaled herself. She was hot, and tight, and so wet that at first I didn't even feel the ridges of her vagina. I pulled her hips down, held her there, and gathered her against my chest, her rigid nipples pressing into me, her hard breasts flattening against me. She started crying then, softly, and we stayed that way for a while, her tears wetting my shoulder and neck. She groaned and came when I started moving, little rocking motions that teased her clit rather than moved my cock within her. She came, groaning, then sobbed, then, softly came again. The popstab guys, two of them wearing bloody overalls, came around the house. It surprised me they came so quickly. Mariko started to climb off me, but I held her hips close. To hell with them; I'd done worse at school. Mariko cringed against me, hiding her face, though, for the sake, I suppose, of her honor. They sort of grinned, but didn't really seem that interested. I told the guys where the freezer was, in the garage, and explained which head was whose and all that stuff, so they'd get the records right. One of them checked things off on a clipboard, then looked up. "This one here, this is Mrs. Leung? You got her daughters, right? We need her, too. Her head, anyway." Mariko came again, her face against me. "She's kind of special deal, guys. I want to have some fun with her before I wack her. Can you get her head tomorrow?" "Supposed to take her now. We can kill her right here once you're done fucking. Won't take a minute." "She's the last one. I want- well, I want to have some fun with her. You know? Please?" They shrugged, sure, I can understand that, she's cute. They tossed the carcasses of Mariko's darughters over their respective shoulders and left. We were alone again in the thin dawn light. I lifted Mariko off my cock and carried her into to the bathroom. I made love to her as we showered, long strong strokes that made her shiver and cry out. I only came once; I don't know how many times she came. It had to be a strange pleasure, fucking the man who had killed her daughters, and who she knew was going to kill her. Strange or not, it was intense for her. Finished in the shower, I carried her, still wet, to the bedroom. "I want to tie your hands. I have to get some things ready." "What things? You don't have to tie." "Torture things, okay? And I want to tie you, at least your hands." Mariko put her wrists behind her and I tied them as loosely as I could without her escaping. I didn't think she'd try, but I still wanted her tied. "It's going to be a while. Stay here. Sleep if you want. It's going to be a while." I left her and went to the living room and sprawled in Dad's lounger. It's funny. I was still tired. But I didn't want to kill Mariko, and I didn't know how to get out of it. I dozed a bit, trying to think of a plan, and I was pretty sure she fell asleep in the bedroom. Neither one of us slept much last night. *** I guess it was mean, but by then I didn't care. I needed the head of an oriental woman. Annie Soo lived about ten blocks away with her dad and her brother. She had been Laura's friend. They and a couple other girls had a kind of secret retreat in the basement of an empty warehouse near the Radcliff projects. They went there a lot of times after school. If she wasn't there, I knew where to find her. Annie was third generation American. She almost looked Italian. She was wearing a lumberjack shirt and jeans when I caught up with her, her auburn hair in pigtails. "Hey, Annie. Can I talk to you?" She was a couple blocks away from their sanctuary, the straps of her backpack making her boobs stand up. "Hey, James." she smiled weakly and waited for me. "I haven't seen Laura lately," she said. "Is there someplace we can talk? It's really important." "What about? Do you know where Laura is?" I hesitated. She drew back a little, her wide eyes growing suspicious. "Where's Laura?" I thought about lying to her, but she was pretty sharp. "She's gone. She got her notice." Annie's rosebud mouth dropped at the corners, and there were abrupt tears in the corners of her eyes. "I thought so." She shook her head and hugged her books to her breasts and sniffed. "You kill her?" she asked. "Yeah." I didn't hesitate; she was already suspicious. I guess I couldn't blame her. "She asked me to." "Yeah, I know. I mean, I know she wanted to screw you. We talked about it." She swallowed and sniffed, then wiped her eyes with the cuff of her flannel shirt. "You screw her?" "She wanted that too." "Did you?" "Yeah." "What do you want to talk about?" "Not here, okay? Somewhere private." "About Laura?" "Sort of." She studied me a moment, then nodded. "Okay. Come on." It was five or six blocks, and we only talked once the whole time. "I heard all the women and girls in school are going to be snuffed. It's because of you and Mrs. Landry. Some mucky muck got pissed." "I heard that too. I hope not." Annie led me into the warehouse, down some stairs, and into a bare concrete room next to the elevator shaft. She went across the small room, leaned agains the wall, then slid down and hugged her knees to her chest. "What did you want to talk about?" Her brown eyes were direct. What was I going to say? I needed to get close to her to use the stunner, but I couldn't make it across the room. Easy, I thought. Walk across the room, casually, then zap her. Easy. I couldn't quite move. Annie rested a cheek on her delicate knee, still watching me with bright eyes. "You're going to kill me, aren't you?" she said. "Why would you think that?" She didn't answer, staring at me intensely. I shrugged. "It's not what you think." That was lame. But I could get some other girl. It didn't have to be Annie. I like Annie; I liked her directness. For a second I really did think I'd let her go, but then I realized I wasn't going to. She was going to die, and I was going to make it happen, and I wanted to fuck her badly because of that. Don't ask me to explain it. You could say I was turning into a crazy pschyopath, and maybe I was, but the rest of the world was pretty much the same. Annie sighed and shrugged. "Okay," she said, raising her head. "Okay what?" "Go ahead and do it. Are you going to shoot me? Or stab me? Just go ahead." She leaned agains the wall, straightening her arms at her side so her shoulders rose. It made her breasts tilt upward and I watched them avidly. "You get your notice?" I asked. She shook her head. "Not yet." Her eyes were bright and unreadable. "Laura loved you, you know. She wanted me to be your girlfriend because she couldn't. Because she was your sister." Her bright eyes saddened for a moment. "You can fuck me if you want. It doesn't matter." She got to me somehow and I looked down on her in confusion. "Annie, look, I'm sorry," I said finally. "I'm not going to do anything to you. I miss Laura. You were her best friend. I thought. I don't know what I thought. I'm leaving." I did. I turned and walked away, leaving Annie sitting against the concrete wall in the half-shadows of that room. I felt weird; it wasn't like I had any qualms about killing Annie, but she knew, and that stopped me. She was cute, though, and I would have liked to fuck her. I sort of wondered if I was turning into some kind of murdering monster, but hadn't I walked away from her? Hadn't I let her live? It was stupid. Annie should never have been my choice. I wasn't home five minutes when Annie knocked on the door. She came in when I opened it, and pushed it shut herself. She didn't have her books with her, and she didn't say anything. I wasn't sure what she wanted. Me? Sex? Did she want to die? I'm not sure she knew herself. I took the little stunner out of my pocket and pressed it to her chest. Her eyes flashed; she gave a hard jerk and then collapsed on the floor. I pulled the shirt off over her head and used it to tie her arms behind her back. She groaned and twitched as I worked. I hadn't knocked her cold, just dazed her, so I worked quickly. She had nice breasts, full and low on her chest, with wide, relaxed nipples that were the palest pink. "James," she groaned as I unfastened her jeans. She kicked a little, and squirmed. I got the stunner out and almost hit her with it again, zapping one of her now-bare breasts. "Don't-" she begged, her voice rising. "Not that, please. It *hurts.*" I hesitated, looking into Annie's eyes. She went limp in my hands, her eyes fearful. "Please, don't," she whimpered. I didn't, but I didn't undress her either. I picked her up and carried her to the kitchen, setting her down on the counter next to the sink. Her head hung over the sink. "I thought you were nice," Annie sobbed as I turned to the knife rack. "Laura told me you were nice." "I'm not, I guess. Not anymore." I got a nice, heavy butcher blade and pressed her head back into the sink, so her slender throat was bared. "I don't want to die," she wailed. That was the last thing she said. I pressed the blade to the base of her throat and cut, sawing the blade back and forth across her throat, working it nearly a third of the way through her neck. Annie jerked and struggled, but not effectively. I cupped my hands under her chin when the red blood gouted, so it wouldn't splash all over the kitchen. Annie gurgled, inhaling her own blood through her throat. She squirmed and twitched, her eyes still intently on me. It surprised me how much blood she had in her. After a couple minutes, she lay still, the blood a trickle from the dark gap under her chin. She'd pissed her jeans, so it was just as well I'd left them on. Once I was sure she wouldn't twitch or jerk off the counter, I left her there and went to the bedroom where I'd left Mariko. I'd only been gone a couple hours. She was asleep. I went to Mom's room. In Mom's jewelry box, I found a nice, big loop earring. Mariko was awake, sleepily staring at the ceiling when I returned. I climbed on the bed, sitting on her belly, then leaned forward, kneeling on her upper arms. Mariko gave a harsh whimper and squirmed, but her arms were still tied and I had her pinned. The earring wasn't sharp, and Mariko's thick, dark nipple was surprisingly tough. I had to twist and push, twist as push, to get the thick gold metal to penetrate and pass through her nipple. Mariko gasped and shuddered as her flesh tore. Once she cried out, but I worked the metal through her nipple. I didn't go through her nipple, but pushed through her aureola, close to the edge, so the ring had to pass through almost two inches of flesh. One time her nipple, slick with her blood, slipped out of my fingers. I squeezed her breast harder, pinched her nipple, and finally the gold popped out of her nipple on the opposite side. I had to get pliers to straighten the ring; I'd bent it pushing it through Mariko's breast. I got up when I had the ring closed and looked down on Mariko, her pained face, her injured and bleeding breast. She was panting, but once she caught her breath, she swallowed wetly and spoke. "Now you kill me? Hurt me very much. Kill me slow. So slow, so much pain." "I told you I agreed to be cruel." "Little nipples small thing. Hurt me much more. Hurt me very much more. Kill me so slow, and if I beg to die or to stop, you don't listen." I went to the bathroom and got a washcloth and peroxide. Mariko shuddered when I began washing her breast and disinfecting her nipple. Her wound- filled now with the thick gold ring- was ragged, but it had stopped bleeding. "Why do you do this?" she asked when I finished. "Why?" "Suppose I don't kill you. What will you do then?" "What do you mean? You kill me. You promise. Kill me slow. You promise cruel." "Slow," I agreed. I took her hip and her shoulders and turned her on her belly. "Cruel, yeah. As cruel as I can be." I cut the ropes from her wrists, took one hand and rubbed her wrist. Mariko sobbed and flipped back over, rubbing her own wrists, wincing at the pain of restored circulation in her hands. "You kill me. You promise." "Cruel, I promised." Fear and desperation filled her eyes. "Please. You kill me. Kill me." "Cruel, I promised. You told me to be cruel, no matter how much you protested." "No. Kill me. Kill me slow. So it hurts." "How much slower can this be? How much more can it hurt?" Mariko glared at me with blank, fierce eyes. "Do you know Annie Soo? I killed her a few minutes ago. I'm going to give popstab her head and say it's yours. You can stay here from now on. Or you can leave." I paused. "I'd like you to stay." I turned and went back to the kitchen. Annie had pretty much stopped bleeding out. I worried her head off with the butcher knife and bagged it; the popstab people wouldn't recognize Annie's head for Mariko's; all they would know was oriental. From the bedroom, I heard a harsh scream of hatred and anguish. I knew she wouldn't kill herself, though. And I wouldn't do it for her. *** "You'll wear the ring until I kill you, or die myself. Do you understand?" Mariko, grave and fifteen years older than me, nodded, looking up at me with dead blank eyes. She knelt beside the bed as I instructed her. I didn't want a slave. Even less did I want to be alone. I commanded her because that was our agreement, not because it pleased me. "Hate me as much as you need to. I don't want you to leave me. You're safe as long as you stay here." "I am safe from all but myself. Why? Why do you do this?" "I saved your life, and I saved myself from loneliness. I bet there was a time when doing stuff like that was the decent thing to do." The hatred in her eyes lost some of its heat; or maybe I just hoped so. "Make love with me," I said, more softly. Mariko stood and lay on her side facing to me. She lifted one silky golden thigh over my hips, slid closer, tilted her pelvis just so. I barely had to shift forward and I was inside her tight, hot cunt and she was rocking against me lightly. She may have hated me, but she came three times, crying out with a feral urgency each time. The fourth time, I joined her. I couldn't say why my eyes kept tearing up. THE END ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ This post has been reformatted by ASSTR's Smart Text Enhancement Processor (STEP) system due to inadequate formatting. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>| | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+