This Material Should Not Be Read by Anyone Under the Age of Eighteen

The following story is a purely fictional account. Any relationship to any real person living or dead is absolutely coincidental. The narrative deals with torture and slaughter of innocent human beings. The author in no way condones or promotes such acts. This is the world of fantasy and fiction where the hidden corners of the psyche may be explored. The author believes that exploring such subject matter in this realm keeps it from ever needing to be explored, and much less fulfilled, in real life. There is violence in all of us. Otherwise there would be no crime, no war, no

destruction. We must acknowledge the beast inside of us if we are to tame it. To ignore it and repress it is to invoke its appearance in our midst.

A special note of caution. Those of you who may consider making such fantasies as are invoked here a reality should certainly seek psychiatric help or counseling.

This material should not be read by anyone under the age of eighteen.

CoriÕs Gift

Prologue

ÒYou said no limits, right? Is that what you said, bitch?Ó

MasterÕs eyes drilled her intently.

She was naked, black leather slave collar around her neck, the chain clipped to the collarÕs ÔoÕ ring dangling down between her small, ring-pierced, pink-nippled, tattooed tits, arms pulled back, her hands cuffed behind her.

ÒI heard you right didnÕt I?Ó

Her cunt drooled - drooled with need, hot and wet for Him.

She nodded tentatively, looked up, her big hoop ear rings dancing, emerald eyes dripping tears down her gaunt cheeks, her face, like her pussy, dewy, moist,

flushed.

ÒYes, Sir.Ó

ÒWe just want to be clear on this, scumbag. We want to be sure you know what the fuck youÕre in for.Ó

Her hair was dyed blonde - a intensely sleazy bleached shade of blonde - it was cut short, to the nape of her long neck and it hung in fine straight strands. The words etched on her chest garishly proclaimed her newly acquired status.

ÔSlutÕ emblazoned garishly over one tit, ÔPigÕ on the other.

She did not look up at Master but hung her stupid bleach-blonde head submissively, red-lipped mouth slightly downturned.

Stupid young bitch, meat for the killers.

The five men stood around her, naked, jerking off with slow languid strokes, in a tight circle.

His friends.

They had short lead-tipped dogwhips in their free hands.

Two of the men wore black hoods. The others had seriously intense faces. One was a bald man with a monstrously huge battering ram cock.

She caught her breath, controlled the urge to sob and spoke deferentially.

ÒI know what it means, Sir. No limits. I belong to you and your friends now.

IÕm here for your pleasure.Ó

ÒOn your knees, scumbag. WeÕre gonna take turns fuckinÕ your dumb face first. Knock yourself out. Show us how much you love us.Ó

The men laughed darkly.

1.

Love.

It would start with love, at least from her perspective, and it would end that way.

ThatÕs how it always was with young dumb cunts like Cori.

He saw it as nothing but opportunity. He was a predator, well schooled in the art of seducing young girls. Choosing the most likely candidates and seducing them. Using them. Breaking them. Killing them. He was an expert. A true bitchmaster. HeÕd been doing it for years, even before medical school. And he knew

heÕd be doing it until he signed out.

Cori was only sixteen.

Small breasted, not very street-smart.

DidnÕt even know how to walk properly in the white high heel sandals she was wearing that first night. But beautiful. Blonde and gorgeous. With a kind of opaque expression on her face - trying hard to be cool though underneath she was as innocent and impressionable as they come.

He knew how to pick Ôem. And how to work Ôem. Just the right shit to say.

He worked her from the minute he met her at Tavern West. Her dangling ear-ring pendants had caught his eye - cheap, tasteless K-Mart trinkets. She wasnÕt supposed to be there. He could see that on her face. She was trying to be naughty but she really wasnÕt very good at it.

Tavern West was a lowlife singles place he sometimes prowled for meat. It was the kind of place that was safely anonymous and it was frequented by a lot of the girls at Dover Wells State College a mile down the road or the high school in town, girls, who, like Cori, liked to be ÔbadÕ now and then, liked to explore what all that was about without their parentsÕ consent. Only Cori wasnÕt gonna get away with it like the others. This little high school junior was going to pay a very high price for her little slumming expedition.

He moved in.

It took him less than an hour of conversation and a couple of shots of tequila,

before his hands were moving up her warm slender thighs under the table, up under her short dress. She smiled, responded sensually to his touch. He stroked her, whispering dirty words in her ear while the club music thundered around them, watching her cheeks blush as she smiled and tried to avoid his eyes, goose pimples coming up on her bare arms and legs - it didnÕt take him long to get the stupid young bitch in one of the stalls in the menÕs bathroom.

Yeah. Cori was a fucking natural.

But heÕd suspected that. He had an eye for it. HeÕd known from the way she moved and spoke, from the short blue dress and white high heels she wore, from the frosty lipstick, and from her cheap girlish perfume, from her short straight hair, and from her blue-glazed finger and toe nails - and unquestionably from those stupid little K-Mart baubles dangling on her ears.

But it was mostly her dark green eyes that gave her away.

She was a little girl trying to act all grown up - a lost little girl.

Hell, she still had babyfat on her cheeks.

He liked lost little girls. He knew just where to lead them. He knew how to talk to them, knew the words they needed to hear. He knew how to touch them, how and where to put his hands on them to guide them toward what he wanted. They were like moist clay for him to mold.

Like a lot of his victims she was probably ignored at home by apathetic or neglectful parents so caught up in themselves they had no clue as to what could be happening in their childÕs life. She was starved for love and attention and driven by the fresh heat of hormones, lulled by the mindless droning of pop music and the glossy fantasy of movies and television.

With a young slut like Cori he knew his approach would not fail and

when he gripped her warm blonde head and slid his cock into her warm silky

mouth her eyes smiled up at him, welcomed him.

ÒOh yeahh,Ó he growled. ÒThatÕs real nice, honey.Ó

She sat on the piss-smeared vynl seat, her chunky handful boobs bobbing in the low cut dress as she tried to choke herself on his meat, leaning forward, her high heels cocked against the sides of the toilet.

It was undeniable that sheÕd had some experience. She definitely knew how to suck cock. She knew all the right moves.

Earlier, at the table, sheÕd told him she loved S&M. Her previous boyfriend had broken her into that, drawn her submissive nature into the open. Paved the

way, so to speak.

ÒI love to be used,Ó sheÕd told him. ÒTo be - uhm - owned.Ó

ÒReally?Ó

His fingers had continued to gently probe under the edges of her panties.

Maybe there was a little more to this puppy than just the average neglect and apathy. A bit of incestuous business maybe. Some childhood trauma. That would make her an even better candidate for his extended exploration.

HeÕd watched her bite her lower lip and smile invitingly.

She has no fucking clue about what sheÕs getting herself into, heÕd thought to himself. But sheÕll learn. He sensed a strength in her. She would bear up well under

a prolonged assault.

Now in the restroom stall he wanted, just for the hell of it, to see just how far the little blonde bitch would be willing to go and he said:

ÒGet on your knees and lick the floor.Ó

She looked up at him breathing fast, his cock dangling in front of her face,

her smile gone, the little silvery hearts on her ear lobes swinging back and forth out of sync with each other. If she didnÕt have what it took this moment would end it. There was only the slightest hesitation and then wordlessly, she sank down to her knees on the dirty linoleum and bent down to do his bidding.

He stroked himself and watched her lap at the smears and pissdrips in front of the bowl and he made her lick the bowl itself, all around the rim guiding her head by her hair.

ÒThatÕs right, sweetheart - good girl - all the way around for me. Get it nice and shiny.Ó

When she started to gag he made her rub her pretty face on the ground in front of the toilet between his hiking boots enjoying her abject submission.

The little whore was amazing. One of the best heÕd come across. As she pushed her cheek to the floor she looked up at him as if seeking approval.

Eventually he pulled her up by her hair back to his cock and he fucked her smudged-up face for a while, rubbed his cock on her dirty cheeks and smeared her lipstick and mascara then he pushed deep down her throat throttling her and pinching her nose shut.

She drew her hands against her sides and did not fight him.

He liked that. Submission was definitely on this little pigÕs program card. She was his kind of girl alright. His kind of girl all the way.

She had a row of tiny rings pierced through the upper half of the shell of her right ear. They twinkled as he face-fucked her and the little silver heart pendants danced against her shoulders.

Men shuffled in and out of the restroom and he soon realized that, given the

speedy developments between him and this trashy young pig, he was going to require more privacy.

ÒYouÕre coming home with me right now,Ó he told her, his cock still in her

throat, his fingers still pinching her cute nose. With his other hand he tugged on one dangling heart earring playfully. She looked up at him redfaced, her eyes already blank and servile. She was ready to begin her journey. There was no sense in drawing out her initial seduction any further.

Slowly he withdrew his frosted-lipstick-coated prick and stuffed it back in his pants.

ÒYes, sir,Ó she gasped as he released her.

He sneered contemptuously and walked out into the club.

She followed. She drew curious looks from other men as she stepped out of the john wiping her face with the back of her hand and moving meekly through the crowded bar out to the parking lot staying a step or two behind him, her hair and makeup in disarray, a tiny stream of drool oozing down her chin.

Oh yeah. Cori was one fucking amazing natural alright. Ready and eager.

He was gonna have lots of fun with this little Tavern West neophyte. He was going to take her as far as she could go.

ÒTake your panties off,Ó he told her as he leaned against the driver side door of his BMW.

ÒHere?Ó she asked.

ÒYou heard me.Ó

She obeyed matter-of-factly leaning down awkwardly to do as he asked. The little heart earrings caught a glimmer of nearby streetlights.

ÒTurn around,Ó he ordered.

He took the police handcuffs from his jacket pocket and pinned her wrists behind her, trapping them in the metal rings, taking the soft garment sheÕd just peeled down her legs from her small long-nailed hand.

ÒAm I under arrest?Ó she joked. The little slut was fearless.

ÒShut up, smartass,Ó he said tersely. ÒDonÕt speak unless spoken to.Ó

He walked her around to the back of the car and unlocked the trunk. He pushed her toward it.

ÒGet in there,Ó he whispered hoarsely.

She teetered on her white high heel sandals - looked stupidly back and forth from him to the open trunk as if expecting him to change his mind - then silently turned, swung one leg into the dark space and slid clumsily into the car.

What was the expression Ted Bundy had used about the women heÕd killed?

Baggage. Used baggage.

ThatÕs all this sixteen year old cunt was. ThatÕs all she would ever be.

Used fuckinÕ baggage.

ÒGood girl,Ó he said softly as she lay in the narrow space on top of the spare

tire, her short blue dress hiked up to her hips and off one shoulder. He reached

down and probed her young pussy finding her hot and moist, her shaved bare muff smooth to the touch.

ÒWhatÕs your fuckinÕ name again, bitch?Ó

ÒCori,Ó she moaned. ÒCori Massey.Ó

ÒYouÕre in for the night of your fuckinÕ life, Cori Massey,Ó he told her and he pushed the silky panties sheÕd given him right into her pretty mouth.

ÒGhhmm,Ó she moaned.

Headlights swung by. He heard voices nearby in the parking lot. Laughter.

But no one saw. No one noticed. No one around the sleazy club ever did.

And after a few moments he slammed the trunk lid shut and drove away with her.

~

She still had her panties stuffed between her lips as she stood naked in his carport, under the buzzing fluorescent lamp still in her white high heels, so pretty, handcuffed, arms pulled behind her, her blue dress on the floor around her ankles. HeÕd hauled her out of the trunk after the garage door had slid shut and heÕd unclasped then unzipped the skimpy garment letting it slide off her.

When he slapped her the first thing he saw in her eyes was anger. That was natural. It was the expected reaction.

ÒNo, no, no,Ó he told her firmly. ÒI donÕt want to see that when I hit you.

Understand?Ó

She glared at him. He stared back coldly until her expression softened.

ÒI want to see acceptance,Ó he told her. ÒAcceptance, you hear me?Ó

She nodded, huffing for breath, nostrils flaring. The little silver heart pendants

danced. The tiny rings glinted.

ÒThatÕs what this is all about, sweetie - acceptance. I give. You take. Get it? Otherwise IÕll send you home right now.Ó

She nodded tersely. He knew damned well she didnÕt want to go home. Deep inside she wanted what he had for her.

ÒIÕm gonna hit you again now. Are you ready for it?Ó

She nodded again, still looking at him, confusion in her eyes, not ready at all.

He reached into her mouth and slowly pulled out the spit-soaked, cunt-scented panties.

Then he slapped her again and harder.

ÒOww!Ó she cried.

For a brief moment there was anger again but then it was gone.

So pretty, he thought. So goddamn pretty.

But so incredibly vacant.

He smiled. This girl was a vacancy in need of filling. And he was gonna fill her all the way.

In the dim glow of the single bulb her young blue eyes glimmered wetly then

locked longingly with his.

ÒDo you like to hit me?Ó she asked softly.

ÒYes, bitch. I do.Ó

ÒThen - hit me again. Please.Ó

Not bad, he thought.

He didnÕt hesitate to comply.

The blow swung her face to one side but when she turned back there was

nothing in her teary eyes but what he wanted from her.

ÒThatÕs better,Ó he snarled. ÒMuch better you stupid cunt.Ó

And he slapped her again - still harder - getting a choked whimper from her before stuffing the panties back into her mouth and pulling her by one wrist up the steps to the doorway that led into the house.

~

ÒFirst thing youÕre gonna learn is that I own you. YouÕre my meat. I am

your God. Nothing else in your life matters. Only my pleasure.Ó

He had her in the kitchen kneeling on two chairs. HeÕd placed the chairs

apart and made her climb up on them, one knee on each chair seat. Then

heÕd pulled the chairs even further apart so that she teettered on them spread-legged, panty-gagged, still wearing her white high heels, her arms still handcuffed behind her,

She had a beautiful ass, full and creamy and he wanted to mark it - to establish immediate ownership over it.

Marking his teenage whores was always the first urgent priority for him.

He unbuckled his belt and slipped it off.

She heard the slither of leather against cloth and looked back over her shoulder.

ÒNo need to eyeball me, slut. I wonÕt be far away. Keep your fuckinÕ face forward. Keep your eyes on the floor in front of you.Ó