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Disclaimer: This story contains rape and snuff. Do not read it if you don't enjoy this kind of thing. Also, DO NOT MISTAKE THIS FOR REALITY. IF YOU ARE THINKING OF DOING SOMETHING LIKE THIS IN REAL LIFE, THINK AGAIN. SEX-OFFENDERS ARE NOT WELL TREATED IN PRISON
THE BOYS GET LUCKY
Scott and Bruce had been in the van for the better part of two months, always on the road, on the hunt. They were finicky, though, and cautious, and most nights they slept unsatisfied. They tried bars all across the country, trendy upscale bars and whitetrash bars alike, dance clubs, they even tried high schools.
But the situation was never right. Either there were no attractive girls (no two attractive girls, for they didn't like the idea of sharing), or no opportunity to isolate them. Eventually, however, their patience paid off in the most unexpected way. Driving on a back road in the rural Southwest, looking for a good place to have lunch, they passed a broken down pickup on the other side of the road.
Bruce considered driving past, but thought better of it. "You never know," he said, pulling onto the shoulder.
Scott shrugged, "Worth a look, I guess."
Bruce opened his door and stepped out, looking back at the stalled truck. "I'll check it out and signal you if there's anything of interest." As he crossed the road and approached the truck from behind he could see two figures behind the rear windshield looking back at him, although neither of them stepped out and he couldn't make out their faces. He noted with hope that there was a pink bumper-sticker reading "princess" on the glass.
As he approached the driver side door the driver rolled down the window. A feminine voice from within said something about "car trouble." He looked in and his heart skipped a beat. The driver was a beautiful young brunette in her early to mid twenties, her passenger a lovely blonde girl who probably couldn't legally drink yet. They were both dressed in the fashionably casual southwest look, short skirts and sleeveless tops. Bruce resisted the urge to call Scott right away. He would have to play it smart.
"Car trouble you say?" he asked. "Any idea what's wrong with it?"
The brunette said that it had started to decelerate until she had to pull over and now it wouldn't start.
"Have you called a for a tow?"
This time the blonde answered, saying that they couldn't get a cell signal.
"Huh," Bruce said, trying to suppress the rising excitement in his voice. He had to make a decision. On the one hand, he hadn't seen another vehicle, other than the stalled truck, in over half an hour. On the other hand, it would only take one passing motorist to turn things into a disaster. He looked as far as he could see in both directions, then, after another moment of consideration, he spoke up.
"My friend is a mechanic," he said, waving Scott over, "you want him to take a look at it?"
The girls looked at each other and then thanked him. They were already beginning to get uneasy though, especially the brunette. She smiled tightly, nervously. Spooked by the scent of predators on the wind. Bruce smiled tightly back.
Momentarily, Scott arrived with his toolbox. "You girls wanna flip the hood?" he asked casually.
Standing behind the hood, shielded from view, Scott opened his toolbox. Inside were two ball gags, two pair of handcuffs and two tasers. The rest of their gear was in the van. Bruce joined him.
"Do you think you can fix it?" Bruce asked bemusedly.
Handing him one of the tasers, Scott replied, "I think so." Then they looked at each other for a second, psyching themselves up, and finally Bruce went back to the driver's side window and the brunette.
"Go ahead and crank it," he said.
When she did, he tasered her on the arm, sending her into spasms. Reaching in, he unlocked the door and opened it. Now the blonde screamed and opened her door. Scott had her tasered as soon as she was outside. The boys worked quickly now, knowing that every passing minute they spent here from this point on was a risk. They quickly gagged the girls, then cuffed their hands behind their backs, all while they were still stunned from the tasers. Then they got the girls to their feet and pushed them toward the van.
The blonde was panicking and had to be tasered again and then carried. The brunette wept but was compliant. Once inside the van Scott hogtied the girls while Bruce got them back on the road. Satisfied with his knot work, Scott allowed himself to admire the girls for the first time. They were a fine catch, all legs and lips and breasts and eyes. Absently, he rubbed the blonde's thigh and asked Bruce, "Where are we taking them?"
"I was thinking the place in Kiniston," was the reply.
"Kiniston?" Scott repeated. The blonde drew away from his touch with a whimper and he tasered her between the legs. "Isn't that old dump in Orcutt closer?" he asked.
"Kiniston is more isolated and not much farther," Bruce replied as Scott moved into the front of the van and took the passenger seat. The barely audible sound of crying could be heard from the rear.
"Nice call on stopping, by the way," said Scott. They smiled and touched fists together.
The location at Kiniston was indeed ideal for what they had in mind. It was one of dozens of wooded areas spread out across the southwest that they had agreed upon for its remoteness. As they grew close, they pulled off the gravel road they had been taking for the last fifteen minutes and parked the van behind a large boulder.
"Time for a hike, girls," Scott said, untying their legs while Bruce opened the back of the van.
"Don't try to run," he warned, while loading his Walther. "You won't get far and you will be punished. Are you ready, Bruce?"
Bruce lowered a ramp from the van, then emerged pushing a wheelbarrow filled with two shovels, a 50lb bag of lye, and some other supplies. "Let's go," he smiled.
The walk took the better part of 45 minutes, but it was well worth it. By the time they stopped they were so far into the woods that they could un-gag the girls if they wished to, no one would hear them if they screamed. The men were a little winded so they rested for a few minutes before beginning. The girls sat and waited nervously.
Finally the men were ready. They had the girls stand up. Bruce took a garbage bag from the wheelbarrow while Scott covered the girls with the Walther. Bruce then walked behind the girls (making them understandably nervous) and unlocked their cuffs. He then handed the bag to the brunette and walked back to Scott. "Strip, ladies," he ordered. "And put everything in the bag."
They hesitated. The blonde started to sob loudly.
"He won't ask again," warned Scott.
Reluctantly they began to undress, the blonde weeping, the brunette shaking uncontrollably. First, the brunette removed her sandals and dropped them into the bag. The blond followed suit, slipping out of her heel-less keds and putting them carefully in the bag. The men leered in anticipation as the girls began to remove their blouses. The blonde had big, full breasts, while the brunette's were smaller but perfectly shaped. They both had smooth young stomachs. The men were enthralled as the brunette pushed her skirt down to her ankles and stepped out of it, while simultaneously the blonde wriggled, still crying, out of her cut-off Abercrombies. As the brunette pulled her panties down Bruce began to rub himself through his jeans.
"Jewelry too," he said. They both removed their earrings and the Brunette removed her necklace, adding them to the growing collection in the bag.
"Good. Now you," he said to the blonde, "put these on." He threw her a pair of cuffs, which she dropped, then picked up.
"Behind your back," he instructed. "You do the same," he said, tossing the other pair to the brunette. The girls began to secure themselves. It was awkward and took a few minutes.
"Couldn't we cuff them ourselves?" asked Scott.
"They might struggle," Bruce replied. "Fingernail scratches on our arms and faces could help a DA."
"Yeah, but nobody's ever going to find the bodies." At this the brunette fell to her knees, weeping and shaking her head, her eyes pleading out to her captors.
"It can't hurt to take precautions," said Bruce. "Shall we begin?"
Bruce went for the blonde, who made a feeble attempt to run but was easily caught. He looked her in the eyes. "You're going to die with my cock buried in your cunt. I know you don't want that to happen, but it's going to." He hit her, knocking her to the ground, then grabbed her by the hair and began to drag her away to a more private kill spot.
Scott watched them until they were out of sight, then turned his attention to the brunette, who was huddled against a tree. She didn't move, perhaps frozen with fear, as he approached. He stood for a moment looking down at her, pondering how best to enjoy her. Finally he smiled and began to remove his belt.
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The blonde was in hysterics as Bruce dragged her roughly across the forest floor. He enjoyed the thought of those smooth young legs and ass being scratched by countless twigs and rocks, and he enjoyed the girl's terror. Finally he stopped, dropping her head with a thud. The girl tried to roll away, but Bruce brought his foot down hard into her stomach, taking the wind out of her. He continued to press his foot against her heaving abdomen as he hastily pulled his pants down, freeing a considerable erection. He then sat on the girl's chest and eagerly nestled his penis between her plump breasts.
"You've got about twenty minutes of life left, sweetie," he said. "So let's make it interesting." He cupped her young breasts, pushing them together to give himself more friction. Gently at first, then with real violence, he mashed them together in a circular motion, digging his fingers deep into the soft tissue. He used his fingernails to scrape away thin layers of skin, leaving red welts on the otherwise smooth white mounds.
By now the girl's screams of terror had blended with screams of pain. With her hands secured behind her back she couldn't offer up even the meekest of resistance, all she could do was scream and squirm about, which only increased Bruce's pleasure. He took her nipple between his fingers and twisted clockwise as hard as he could, eliciting still more screams, all the while fucking her breasts. He twisted again, this time counterclockwise. Ah, delicious! Just then he felt the moment of passion taking hold of him. Grabbing both nipples and twisting them as hard as he could, he erupted on the girl, coating her breasts and face with his cum.
He looked at his watch. There was still time, but he would need to hurry. Strangling the girl would take too long, and the Walther was back at the wheelbarrow. Scanning the underbrush for a makeshift weapon, he spotted a rock about a foot long and six inches thick. He picked it up, testing its weight.
"This'll do," he muttered. He carried the rock over to the girl, who tried to get to her feet to run but was hampered by not being able to use her arms. She slipped and only managed to push herself a few feet away. Bruce easily caught up to her. He kicked her in the face, causing her head to snap back sharply and hit the ground. He sat on her, straddling her ribcage, and raised the rock. The girl shook her head frantically, bawling. He dropped the rock to the right of her head, just missing her but causing her to scream.
"Almost time," he said. "Just give me a minute to prepare." It had been months since his last snuff, and Bruce's cock was so starved that it recovered quickly from its first excursion. He stroked it, slapped it against the girl's face, and soon he was ready to go. He got off of the girl and slid his hands between her legs. She started to squirm and clench her legs together, but it was no use. Taking a hold of her knees, he soon had her spread. He entered her in one violent motion, his shaft sinking to the hilt, and began to piston himself slowly but firmly into her. The girl was an excellent fuck, though she didn't mean to be. Her young pussy was as firm and succulent as the rest of her. For the first five minutes Bruce merely fucked her, then he decided it was time to start killing her.
He picked up the rock, still probing the farthest reaches of the girl's pussy with his cock, and slammed it down hard on her chest. She cried out, and he brought it down again, this time breaking a rib and eliciting more desperate screams. Again and again he drove the rock against the girl's chest until she spit up blood. He took a moment to admire his work. Her ribcage was expanding and contracting quickly now as she gasped for air, each breath causing her pain. He ran his fingers along the fractured bones with pleasure, poking his fingers between two ruined ribs and being rewarded with a yelp of pain.
"This is it, bitch," he said, feeling that it was time to finish the girl. He raised the rock again but this time he drove it down against her temple. She was dazed, and could only grunt incoherently. Again he smashed her skull, and this time he heard and felt a crack. He got into a nice rhythm, thrusting his dick and slamming down the rock in perfect synchronicity. By the time he finally coated her insides with his semen, the rock was covered in girl-brains.
"Ooh, that was good," he said as he finally slipped out of her. He looked at his watch. It was clean-up time. He urinated, then headed back to the wheelbarrow to get a shovel.
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Scott admired his belt. It was thick brown leather with a heavy buckle, a real cowboy belt, and it was going to serve him well today. He grabbed the brunette by the ankle and started to pull her toward him, but she kicked and thrashed and Scott finally had to drop her legs and come in from another angle. This time he approached her from the side and grabbed her by the hips.
Hardly hearing the girl's cries, he quickly flipped her onto her stomach and jammed his knee into her lower back, right above where the handcuffs secured her wrists. Now he had her completely at his mercy. For a couple of minutes he just let her flail about, admiring her lean, coltish, legs as she tried to kick him.
Eventually, however, he tired of this. As the girl's right foot swung within reach, he lashed out at it with the belt, hitting her square on the sole. She kept kicking though, and when her left foot came within reach he grabbed it by the ankle and raked her toes with the belt. This made her scream, so he did it again, and then again. He raised the belt to strike again, then paused. The girl had a toe ring that they had missed. He made a note of it.
Dropping the girl's ankle, he began to swat her ass with the belt. First he used the leather end, but he quickly switched to the buckle end. It made a loud slapping sound as it bounced off the girl's smooth young skin, a sound that was inevitably followed, like an echo, by a high-pitched shriek.
The belt struck again and again, lashing out almost on its own accord, independent of its owner. Like a striking snake it bit deep into the girl's flesh, leaving red gashes in the otherwise beautifully tanned skin. Apparently it craved still sweater meat because every sixth stroke or so Scott would direct it between the girl's legs, where it would slap enticingly off of her tender pussy. This would draw the most wonderful screams yet.
There was only so much pleasure to be had in whipping, though, and he decided it was time to move on. He remained sitting on the girl, who was now softly crying, pondering how to proceed. He looked at the back of her head, her face obscured by her hair. Very gently, he brushed the hair to the side to get a better view of her. She turned her face away, but Scott turned it back, forcing her to endure his scrutiny. She had beautiful brown eyes. He knew that he would end the evening watching those eyes as they died. But he wasn't quite ready for that yet. His eyes moved to the girl's slender, graceful neck.
Wrapping the ends of his belt around his hands, he then slid it under her chin and wrapped it once around her neck. He pulled sharply upward and backward, jerking her head back and causing her to make choking sounds. He squeezed the belt as tight as he could for ten seconds, then relaxed his grip. The girl's head fell back to the ground and she gasped for air.
Holding the belt around her neck with one hand, Scott lowered his trousers with the other. He let her regain her breath, then nudged his cock between her ass cheeks and started to tighten his grip. The girl started to cry more desperately, making pleading sounds that Scott couldn't understand. With a mighty thrust he entered her rectum, pulling back hard on the belt at the same time. The girl's head was jerked back and immediately she was fighting for air. This time he didn't let her breath again right away, and her legs started kicking out in desperation. It was then that Scott heard the crackle of approaching footsteps. It was Bruce.
"You're still going at it?" Bruce asked, carrying a shovel and the bag of lye. "I've already got mine in the ground and you're not even done fucking yours yet?"
The girl turned to look at Bruce, tears welling. Bruce planted the spade in the ground and dropped the lye by her head.
"Give me another fifteen minutes. I want to do her right."
Bruce sighed. "Alright, but I'm not helping you dig." He scrutinized the girl for a moment, frowning, then approached her. "You missed this," he said, grabbing the girl's foot and indicating the toe ring.
"I know, leave it for now. I'll get it when I'm done."
"Don't forget." With that Bruce walked away, back toward the van.
Scott looked at the girl, who was crying yet again.
"Well, it looks like I have to be going," he said, "which means so do you." He rolled the girl onto her back and pushed her legs apart. His erection still strong, he penetrated her. Then he wrapped the belt around her throat for the last time. He thought he heard her say something like, "no, please," but he paid no attention. Pulling the belt tight, he began to fuck her.
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Back at the van Bruce had been waiting for twenty minutes. He wanted to get out of the state as soon as possible, and he was contemplating going back for Scott to hurry him along. Just as he was deciding to go back, Scott emerged from the woods, pushing the wheelbarrow, the two shovels, and the empty bag of lye.
"Do you have the garbage bag?" Scott asked.
"It's in the back."
"Could you drop these in it?" He handed Bruce two pieces of jewelry, one was the toe ring, the other was a tiny silver ball covered in saliva. "She had a tongue stud too," explained Scott.
“Once we get far enough away,” said Bruce, “we’ll have to find a nice discreet pawn shop.”
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