Posted by Ripper X on July 23, 1999 at 06:02:23:
In Reply to: Thieves of Light (A Story) posted by Ripper X on July 23, 1999 at 05:55:34:
She had picked up the razor and cut off her breast putting it on her dresser, then slitting her tummy
open, she reached inside of her and pulled out every slimy thing that she could get her hands on.
She hated doing it, but she was after all a professional. She even cut off her hand and stuck her own
fingers up inside of her once lovely vagina. When she was done with Therese, she couldn't even tell
that it was a person anymore. After she was done with her grizzly chore, she ran into the bathroom
and threw up a couple of times, before sitting with her back against the wall to catch her breath. She
looked down at her nudity, she wore Therese's blood as if it were a skintight gown. Once she got
herself talked into being stronger again, she sat up and took a long hot shower. It took forever for
the blood to wash away.
As she was in there, she couldn't help but realized what she had just done. Yes she just butchered a
very beautiful and sweet woman, but if she can get rid of the razor, she had just committed the
perfect murder. Once the cops finally pick this guy up, then he will get blamed for the whole thing.
She had to like that.
She looked at her young savior, she didn't trust him anymore. It would have been her luck to run into
the very killer that she had tried to pin the murder on. Besides, she often used the same technique to
lure the men to their deaths. The innocent little kittens' act.
"This is it." She said pointing at the huge apartment building.
He looked back and scratched his head.
"It is a long walk back." He said innocently enough, "Do you think that I couldn't come on in and
warm up a bit."
"Sure." She said walking up the outside steps to the door.
He quickly grabbed the handle and pulled the door open for her. She walked through the threshold,
her heart racing, and her eyes squinted in thought.
Petra's heart wanted to pound out of her chest, she could feel his presence looking over her body,
waiting to strike. Her gun held firmly in her hand, waiting for him to try anything.
"I am glad that you made it home safely." He said taking off his cap, "Man, I have seen those girls
that he got a hold of, he left them mangled up pretty badly."
"You've seen them all?" She said, trying to displace her fear.
"I have been a part of all of them, ma'am." He said as he reached out to touch her.
She swung around and pulled her gun. Its report echoed through the empty hall. Her heart stopped
beating as she watched the bullet enter his stomach, bending him forward, his hand reaching for her.
Bam! Bam!
Both shots hit their mark. One in the heart, and the other in his forehead. She watched as his cute
blue eyes rolled back, and a trickle of blood spilled from his open mouth. He moaned for a while, his
hand still stretching out for her, before falling to his face.
She just backed up against the wall. Her brain was empty, and her eyes wide. She held the gun on
him still, waiting for him to jump up and attack her.
"Oh, my god!" Came a voice from down the hall.
Petra's eyes and pistol met with the man, a tall, handsome fellow, dressed in dark cloths. He began
to run toward her until he noticed that the gun was now pointed at him.
"Could you please put the gun down, before somebody else gets hurt?" He said, stopping from
running yet walking toward them, slowly and cautiously.
"Fuck you!" Screamed Petra, "You'd better fucking stop right there, or else your history you fucker!"
He did, looking down at the body.
"Why did you shoot him, Miss?" He asked smoothly, as if they were drinking tea together and had
been friends for years.
"That son of a bitch is the Ripper!" She screamed, "He tried to fucking kill me!"
"No, he isn't, Miss." He said smiling, "I am the Ripper, he was just a cop."
Her eyes widened, she should shoot him . . . why isn't she shooting him? She could feel her knees
threatening to collapse from under her. The gun pointed at the Ripper, her eyes darting back and
forth from the cop and the killer.
"You need to drop the gun ma'am, you aren't going to hurt me."
"You just shut up!" She screamed, what had she done?
"Just drop the gun." He said slowly inching toward her.
"Stop!" She yelled, knowing that she should shoot him . . . Yet couldn't.
Soon he had the gun in his hand and was pointing the muzzle toward his heart.
"This is your last chance ma'am," He said calmly, "If you want to save yourself, then shoot me. If not,
then give me the gun, and then we can go on inside and have a drink."
Petra just looked at him, his eyes were serious.
She pulled back the trigger ever so lightly, the hammer lifting halfway back. He still stared at her, not
even amused. Her hand trembled and she felt her eyes tear over.
Petra released the grip and sunk down against the wall bawling. He bent over and held her tightly,
she could feel the gun against her back.
"It's okay." He said, patting her on the back, "You will be fine"
She knew that the man holding her was the most vicious and notorious killer of her time, yet
strangely enough, his touch was so warm . . . so comforting.
"Are you going to kill me?"
"What is your name?" The Ripper asked, half pulling away yet still holding her in his right arm. He put
one of his gloved hands under her chin and slowly leveled her mascara, streaked face to look at him
at eye level.
"Petra" she stuttered, she wasn't afraid of him, she couldn't explain what she felt. She remembered
the drink; it was laced with something. It must've been some kind of rape drug because she was
frightened more of the fact that she wanted him so much, then she was of the reality that he was a
serial killer. She wanted to feel his touch, she wanted him to be the last to ever sleep with her, ever.
"Petra." He said smiling, he had such a beautiful smile, and his eyes, they seemed like they could
penetrate the darkness.
"That is a pretty nick name." Grinned the man as he wiped a tear from her cheek, "If that is all you
wish for me to call you then so be it. You are so pretty, why don't we go inside and get you cleaned
up, huh?"
Petra was charmed. She just nodded and let him help her to her feet. She fumbled around with her
pockets until she found her keys. He was guiding her, she was too strong for this, wasn't she . . .
wasn't she?
With shaky hands she tried to put the key in the little hole.
"Here," He said, taking her hand in his as he guided the key through the lock and turned it, "You are
pretty shaken up my dear."
Petra could just look at him.
What in the hell was she doing? She should've shot and killed him, why was she letting him in her
house. He was going to kill her!
Because you want him to. Answered the voice in her head.
He didn't push her inside like she thought that he would, he let her walk in alone.
Petra went straight to her liquor cabinet and grabbed a bottle of brandy and two glasses, carefully
filling them. She looked up and watched as he dragged the dead cop inside and put him in the closet.
"Out of sight, out of mind I always say." The Ripper murmured to himself, with a little smile. He is
going to be getting some shit for this one.
Not only out of area, but also killing a male with a gun. He propped him up against the wall, making
sure that he didn't get any blood on him, and tossed the little handgun on top of him.
Petra downed her glass in a few guzzles and handed him his. He moved so gracefully as he grabbed
the full glass of brandy and sat on her couch without spilling a single drop.
"You know my name." She said, conscious of her terrible appearance. If it wasn't for her natural
beauty, she would be quite horrid, "May I know yours?"
"Well." He said before taking a drink of his brandy, "Why don't you just call me Stacy?"
"Oh . . . " she said, knowing why he had followed her, "I see."
"Don't worry," Stacy said politely, "You did a fine job, it should blend in well with my own handy
work . . . Though you did make her suffer too long. Then again, that really isn't your fault."
She blushed, not knowing what to say, "Ummm, I think that I am going to go change."
She walked into her bathroom and filled the water basin with warm water.
"How did you know?" Petra yelled through the open door, as she tugged off her filthy blue dress.
She was almost upset, until she remembered that she wasn't going to need it anymore.
He surprised her as he stepped into the doorway.
"How did I now that you were going to kill her?" He asked, standing there as comfortable as a
husband watches his wife.
"I didn't, I was sitting at the bar." He said, lifting his eyebrow as he looked at her in only her panties
and ripped pantyhose.
"I was going to kill her myself, but you took my seat right when I got there." Said the Ripper, taking
another swig of his brandy before he went on, "I stayed around, and I waited a few minutes after you
left to follow you, knowing that one of you was going to have to walk alone. It was just a matter of
waiting for you to leave."
"I watched you through the window. The way that you slept with her, you enjoyed her."
" I was surprised that you killed her. To be honest with you, I think that I was more shocked then
she was."
"Well that was my job." She said, before washing the crap off of her face and grabbing a soft
expensive towel to dry her face, "I am an assassin."
"Hmm." He said, drinking his last swig of brandy, "And she was nothing more to you then a target."
She looked into the mirror, and bent close as she applied new mascara to her eyelashes.
By the time that she was done, he was gone. She just shrugged and grabbed her lipstick and
puckered into the mirror.
"How did it feel, Petra?" He asked from the living room, "How did you feel as you killed her? You
cannot even tell me that the girl was just another target that time."
"Your right!" She said, checking her lips and lashes in the mirror, making sure that they were perfect,
"She wasn't just another target. She was something totally different."
He returned with two full glasses of brandy, setting one in front of her on the stand.
"Thanks." Petra said, picking it up and taking a tiny sip. Her touch leaving the ghost prints of her red
lips on the glass, "It is so hard to explain. I felt turned on, by her defenselessness. I was in control
over her. It feels so . . . powerful to actually know that her life waited for me to take it. That she had
lived each and every day, taking care of herself, just so that I could come along and take that all
away."
She checked her rouge, making sure that she didn't put so much on that it overwhelmed her own
beauty, just enough to enhance it.
"Though," She added, "I really didn't enjoy butchering her. I actually got sick from that."
"Tell me about it." He said, with that good looking, debonair smile of his, "At first I thought that it
was truly terrible as well, just something to do so that I didn't have to worry about getting caught."
"What makes you so sure that you won't get caught?" She said as she pulled off her destroyed hose.
"They are looking for a filthy psycho, not me. That is why I do it that way."
"Besides it is kind of interesting to open the surprise." He continued, watching her remove her silk
panties, "The belly does seem to hold many beautiful surprises. It was kind of hard when I first
started, but after a while, it got to be rather erotic in itself."
"I can't believe that you find that attractive." She groaned as she walked past him and opened her
top dresser drawer.
"Well, Petra." He said, watching her naked body float across the room, "I am not as over zealous as
the newspaper makes me out to be. What you did was not attractive, no. I usually don't go that far.
Ordinarily I just cut open the belly and pull out the insides and place them on their breasts,
sometimes wrapping an intestine around her throat. I really don't like to cut off breasts, or do lewd
and morbid things with a severed hand. Though you do possess a more violent nature then I do."
"I guess that you do have a point there." Petra laughed, picking up two teddies, one purple the other
white.
"Which one?" She asked, holding the purple one up to her, and the other to the side.
He just shrugged as he took a drink of his brandy, "They are both very pretty."
"The white one, I think." She said, tossing the purple teddy back in the dresser and brushed past him
as she returned to the bathroom.
"And what by chance did you mean by, you thinking that I let her suffer too much." She said, slipping
it on nice and snugly, then turning her back to him, whipping her hair to the side at the same time.
"There are two reasons really." He said as he put his glass down and moved to lace up the back of
the garment.
"Do tell, please." Petra sang out, half sarcastically, "I do like to know. I am a professional after all."
"That is one of the reasons." He said smoothly as he threaded the strings through the small holes,
pulling them tight as he went.
"You are used to having to be quiet, and sneaky."
"And you're not?" She interrupted.
"No." He said, "I tell them all what is going to happen, I let them know that they are going to die at
my hands. So that they may revel in their last sensations. All of my victims had known exactly what
was going to be done to them. They had time to know, and enjoy there last few seconds on earth."
He tightened up the last lace and tied it taunt. She felt the cloth pressing around her tummy, the
tummy that he would cut open and empty.
"Mmmm." She purred, turning around and wrapping her arms around his neck, gazing lovingly into
his eyes, "That is a point made. How about my other mistake."
"The last wasn't really your fault I don't think." He said, wrapping his hands around her waist and
pulling her closer to him.
"Your fatal cut wasn't deep enough, the razor is sharp, but you also need to put enough pressure so
that you can use the sharpness more to your advantage. Death should be instantaneous, but I believe
that you probably lack the strength to do it properly."
"Lacked strength!" She said, pushing him back and gazed into the mirror again. Turning her full
attention back toward the mirror as she gathering her long dark hair into a ponytail.
"For your information," Petra stated, tolerantly, "If I wanted to, I could have taken her pretty little
head off of her shoulders."
"Up or down?" She asked turning toward him, letting him judge for himself. "Down." He said as he
grabbed his brandy and took a sip.
"Damn! That means that I have to fix it." She complained as she picked up her brush and began to
run it through her hair.
"Maybe I should have showered first." She said, more to herself then to him. "I think that you smell
just fine." He said putting down his glass of brandy. She just looked at him, allowing her eyes and her
smile to thank him.
"Could you be a dear and go grab a bottle of perfume from my dresser?" Petra said, just to taunt
him.
"What kind would you like?" He asked, looking at all of the pretty bottles. He realized that he was
probably looking at close to three hundred pounds.
"It doesn't matter." She said almost finished with her hair, "Pick out your favorite."
He returned with a bottle just when she was finishing with her hair. She squirted her throat and the
exposed crevice between her breasts.
"So?" She said, turning toward him with her arms outstretched, "What do you think? Am I not a
beautiful victim?"
"Stunning." He smiled, advancing to kiss her.
"Ah ah ah!" she said, pushing him back with a playful smile, "No touching me yet. A girl has to be the
final judge of her own beauty, Stacy."
He smiled as she turned to admire herself in the mirror. She fluffed up her hair and rechecked her
makeup job.
"Perfect." She said, knowing that she looked good. She turned to him and opened her arms, inviting
him to embrace her.
He pulled her close to him and looked into her eyes for a brief second, then began kissing her as
hard as she could stand. Petra just about fell over, she could feel her entire body tingle and her mind
go blank for a brief second. He wrapped her arms around him as tight as she could and kissed him
back.
She felt his hand touch her cheek as she released her tongue to him.
Though her eyes were closed, she still heard the audible ring of a razor opening. Petra pushed herself
away from him with a firm look of displeasure, her smile as sharp as his blade.
"If you think that I spent this long getting ready to be snuffed so quickly you are out of your mind."
She said with an evil grin.
He just smiled as he folded up his razor and put it back into his pocket.
"I haven't even had a chance to drink the brandy that you had so lovingly brought me." Petra grinned
as she grabbed her glass and brushed past him.
"Now lets go into the living room and have a nice chat, hmm."
Petra told the Ripper to sit in her favorite oversized leather chair. She freshened up his glass of
brandy and took a seat on her couch. They made small talk as they sat together and drank the bottle
of brandy until it was empty. Even through her drunkenness she could feel his eyes watching her. He
enjoyed watching her breath, the way that her chest bounced when she laughed. She could feel him
staring at her throat, observing the way that it changed with each syllable that she spoke. He
watched as the muscles of her legs tensed as she crossed them, and she loved the way that her
whole body tingled as his eyes seemed to devour her as she poured the drinks.
He enjoyed watching her live. Watching her move. Okay maybe she did sway her hips a little more
then usually, but she wanted to enjoy the tightness of her teddy. She would scratch an itch, and she
could just feel his need to take her right then.
She was enjoying this just as much as he was. She almost felt bad for Therese, for not allowing her
to feel her eyes and know what was going through her mind each time that she would lick her lips.
Petra's eyes could not stop looking at the bottle of brandy, her life's hourglass, until there was but a
swallow left in the bottle.
"Well, Petra." He said, taking his last swig of brandy, "It looks like you have teased me enough."
"Oh, but Stacy." She said, imitating a pout, "I still have a quarter of a glass yet." The Ripper stood up
and reached to her, grabbing her glass. He tilted the glass all the way back, until it was empty.
He ran his finger down her thigh as he put the empty glass on the coffee table. She just watched him,
allowing him to pick her up off of the couch, and carry her into her bedroom. Her lover set her down
lightly to the comfort of expensive white satin sheets. She just pulled herself back and got to her
knees to watch him undress.
He unbuttoned his shirt, as his eyes stared deep into hers. Her breath quickened as he pulled his
razor out of his back pocket and handed it to her. She knew that if she wanted to then she could just
slice his throat and leave unharmed, but that was not what she wanted. That was not what her flesh
was crying for this night. Her skin desired to be cut, her bones wanted to see the light, her organs
wanted to feel the air blowing around them. Petra's entire body begging to be destroyed.
She delicately opened the shiny blade.
Staring at it.
Feeling its sharpness.
She wondered how many lives that it had taken, how many cries that it had stopped. She was
fascinated by it. This was the object of her demise. This small little blade would end everything for
her. Everything that she had ever worked for, every desire that she had ever had. All snuffed in one
passionate moment. Petra felt her juices flowing heavily, saturating the delicate white cloth of her
undergarment.
She saw him slowly walking toward her. His masculine form coming to forever silence her cries.
She hugged her arms around herself and admired the naked body approaching her. She closed her
eyes and imagined that he had cut her throat open, the blood flowing from her as she grew weaker
and weaker, and him stronger and stronger.
She opened her eyes and put the razor down besides her on the bed, crawling toward him at the
bed's edge. She smiled and ran her hand down her arm. His penis was hard as a rock, and his balls
were nice and tight. She grabbed the tip of his cock and stroked it with her other hand smiling up at
him. His eyes slowly closed as he just sighed, taking her inside of him as she had taken Therese
inside of her.
As she looked up at his handsome face, she couldn't help but to think, "This was the man. This was
the man that was going to end her. She had taken life so freely, and he was the avenger."
Petra stopped stroking him and waited for his eyes to open, she was just inches away from his penis.
Her sharp teeth grinning at him as their eyes locked. She licked the tip of him a few times before
taking his hot flesh into the soft comfort of her mouth. She moaned as she rubbed her tongue from
side to side, feeling each contour of his throbbing cock. She reached down and grabbed his razor
that lied half-open upon her bed.
Slowly, she began to move her head as she ran the razor up the insides of his thighs. His eyes closed
as he sighed, she watched his chest rise and fall with pleasure, and smiled as he jumped when he felt
the blade touch his balls. She waited for more of a reaction.
A "Careful that is sharp." Something. But it never came. He just closed his eyes again and enjoyed
her warm mouth.
His ass started to quiver when he pushed her away.
"Not yet, Petra." He told her, trying to focus, "I want to save this."
"Oh, you will cum again." She said, kissing the tip of his penis as if it was her lover's lips, then she
tickled the bottom of the shaft with her long fingernail, ending her kiss, "You are not done with me
quit yet."
His hot cum sprayed from his cock and hit her throat. She tilted her head back and felt the warmth
of the trail run down her neck and between her breasts. She ran her hands down her arms, and
pretended that it was her blood.
The sink began running, she lied down to the bed, arching her back and running her hands from her
legs, up over the garter, feeling the lacy cloth that constricted her belly and breasts so well.
She felt a warm wash cloth touch her throat. Petra pushed into his hand, feeling the strength of him
against such a sensitive place, bowing her throat slightly inward.
He kissed her neck as he washed away his cum from her swelling chest. She felt as if she would
burst if he didn't enter her soon, but the undergarment that she wore could never allow such a quick
answer, unless it was cut off of her.
He kissed her neck as his hand caressed her creamy thighs. She wrapped her arms around him,
feeling his strong back, moaning in pleasure, whining for so much more.
She felt his hand crawl up her thigh, over her tummy and clasp a breast. Their lips met. She could
feel her life seem to drift away as his kiss seemed to numb both her body and mind.
They kissed forever, yet soon Petra felt him reach out for his blade. Her whole body tingled, her
flesh seemed to crawl. She jumped as the cold steel touched her leg.
Squealing and clutching him tighter as the blade harmlessly ran over her soft skin to her teddy.
She felt her clitoris quiver as the blade grazed up under her pretty undergarment and began to cut her
underclothes away. The sharp razor ran up over her belly button and between her breasts, releasing
the pressure with the quiet sound of ripping thread.
He flipped the useless cloth to the side stroking her bare belly, she could feel the knife in his hand,
shaving the little hairs from her ribs as it rubbed against her. Petra knew what he was thinking, he
wanted to cut through her stomach. He wanted to reach inside of her and pull her innards out. She
imagined the warmth wrapping around her as her intestines dripped the slime over her as if expensive
oils.
Her tummy tightened. She didn't know what was happening to her. Her pussy started to burn, and
her whole body began to tremble. She could feel herself begin to cum.
Without thinking she stuck her arm in her mouth and bit down as hard as she could, screaming
through her teeth at the almost painful eruption from between her legs. He pulled her arm from her
mouth and watched her eyes plead with him. Her body still trembling from the shock of her orgasm.
She didn't know how he did it. How he could get her so bothered that she could cum without aid,
she could never know, but she loved him for it. Her body felt so much intense pleasure that she had
to bite herself to counter the effects. Petra's body trembled and she looked up at him in total disbelief
for a while. He did nothing, he just held down her arm and let her adjust, let her body relax.
Finally she closed her eyes and sighed, finally calming down.
"That was so good that I would almost assure you that the neighbors are smoking cigarettes." She
said through closed eyes and a heavy breath, he heard him chuckle.
He was off guard.
She quickly slid her arm out from under his gentle grasp and wrapped around him, pulling him on top
of her. She kissed his throat and his face, her fingernails raked up his back. He groaned and arched
as far away as he could, with a grimace; His cock springing to life.
She must've scared him.
She did like that.
Petra had the upper hand for a brief second when he grabbed both of her arms and swung them
above her head. His large hand held them down, her breasts vulnerable for whatever he wanted to
do.
His lips lightly kissed her nipple, he suckled it with his tongue, nibbled the hardened tip. She wanted
to touch him, to feel him. She squirmed to get free from him, but he was too strong. His lips backed
away of her nipples and she watched as he brought the razor up to her breast. She held perfectly still
as the sharp blade grazed the erect nipple. The sound of the edge running across sensitive skin
threatened to erupt her again. Yet her fear of knowing what would happen kept her from moving.
Closing her eyes, Petra tried to push it off, yet the orgasm only built higher and higher in intensity.
Her toes curled and her legs clamped tight. She could feel the first spray of cum. Then she felt the
blade leave as she screamed again, her cum imploding within her.
Her eyes shot open as he stabbed her soaked pussy with his cock, easily sliding it inside of her. She
hadn't even finished cumming when his large member pushed against the slick walls of her vagina.
She gasped as she felt another orgasm coming, He let her arms go and put the razor right next to her
head.
Petra watched in terror as he set the razor down, he had her. She could do nothing but pull her
hands up into balls and scream in pleasure. Once in a while she could catch enough space to try to
push on his shoulders, she struggled underneath of him. Her pleasure too much for her to handle. She
had to get him off, she was getting exhausted. She had never came so many times in her life.
Finally, in the intensity of his passion, he stopped. Petra felt his penis soften within him. She was
breathless. She just laid there underneath of him, her body totally fatigued. Her lover collapsed on
top of her.
His soft penis felt so good still. It wasn't threatening like before, but soft and warm. She felt so good
with him in her.
Slowly and carefully, Petra wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight to her.
"Is it always like this, Ripper?" She asked quietly into his ear.
He said nothing. His body was so tense, yet she could tell that he refused to calm down.
"I kind of hope that you get caught." Petra whispered, running her fingers through his hair, "That way
I will be the last. That way you will never forget me."
"I promise you Petra," he finally said, beginning to thrust again, she could feel his cock slowly
hardening as his hand extended to the knife.
"I will never forget you."
She stared at the razor and shook her head.
She could feel herself starting to panic. Petra looked at him, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly parted.
She had to feel something, she had to keep her mind busy, and her hands, else she would fight him.
Her hands went to her nipples and began to squeeze them over and over, she tried to calm herself,
but it wasn't working.
"Oh my god Ripper." She said, her voice trembling. Her heart beat so hard, she could feel her terror,
her pussy warming up, her legs kicking ever so lightly, as she nervously pinched her nipples.
Her eyes began to tear as he grabbed a hold of her hair and tilted her head back.
"Oh my god! Oh my god!" Petra cried in peaking terror, closing her eyes as tight as she could.
"NO!"
She felt a little, but not a lot. Her whole body just started to quake violently, she tried to breathe, but
she could only squeak as the razor dug into her throat. Her vagina seemed to just explode in cum.
The orgasm seemed to come from everywhere. From her toes, from her fingers, her breasts, from
her spine. Just when she was in the mists of pleasure . . . she was gone.
The ripper shot his last stream of cum inside of her still thrashing body.
He loved the death throes, his orgasms seemed to last so long. Her vagina tightens up so tight, it felt
like she was going to crush him. Soon Petra's body relaxed and went still, once in awhile a muscle
would twitch. A shoulder would raise, or her leg would give a quick kick, but other then that she
was totally motionless.